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razorblade180 · 3 years

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Interdimensional Moms: part 1

Intro <-

Yang:So how we doin this? Drawing straws or... well we actually don’t have straws here so-

Weiss:It’s obvious that you wanna go first.

Blake:Extremely obvious.

Ruby:All over your face.

Yang:Hey now, don’t call me out like that! We all have so much to sort out here. I don’t even know where to begin. Differences could start and stop anywhere for all we really know.

Blake:From what it seems, Beacon itself would have one or two minor changes, but the real changes start after the fall. At least, for you three that is.

Weiss:You saying you’re different?

Blake:Unless you three started going on dates with Jaune at Beacon, then yes, I’m different.

RWY:(They’ve been together that long!?)

Yang:Okay, starting from Beacon...nothing really stands out too much. Jaune and I were just friends. *cringes* Back then, a certain faunus caught my eye.

Blake:Ah...right. I guess that tracks in practically every universe.

RW:Oh yeah it does. You two are joined at the hip.

Yang:Haha, really? Glad to hear it. My Blake and I are best buds! Remnant has never seen such a dynamic duo! Can’t say it didn’t take a lot of time effort after a rough patch. We actually dated in my world.

Blake:Same.

Yang:What!? How long?

Blake:I don’t know, it was pretty on again off again.

Yang:Well for me it was after Haven. Both of us had gotten pretty serious. All the growing we’ve done together and apart had brought us closer. However, Adam unintentionally put a wedge between us. His attempt to change and the problems that came with it were-

Yang stopped midway and saw the confused faces of her otherworldly teammates. They were shocked, confused even. Especially Blake, who looked the most shocked of all.

Yang:Umm did I say something odd?

Blake:Adam, he...isn’t dead?

Yang:Oh, well I guess that’s the start of the major changes then. Blake and I fought Adam at Argus. Stabbed him through the chest and watched him fall down rocks into a river.

Ruby:That lines you with my world. Dude died that day. Like any normal person should.

Yang:Well Adam is anything but fucking normal. Man has the craziest luck. A young women, the winter maiden in fact, she saved his life. She’s not exactly normal either. The maiden, Jacquelyn, ended up sticking by him to see if she could change his ways. This naturally meant we’d run into them again. And that’s how things fell apart.

Blake:What do you mean?

Yang:You were fully committed to seeing if Adam could actually change. I wasn’t, so we constantly butted heads in any situation involving him. Then we would fight about things that had nothing to do with at all. Eventually, we broke it off. We remained on decent terms but I was pretty heartbroken about the disconnect. Enter our lovable blonde idiot. Jaune did everything in his power to cheer me up.

Weiss:Sounds like him. Always such a bleeding heart. That boy just can’t help himself. Let me guess, his kindness and concern made you feel all warm and fuzzy?

Yang:Hehe, guilty. It was more of his willingness to laugh at my puns. Jaune’s always been interesting to talk to. He tries to act cool and calm even though he’s terrible at it, then comes clean right after. Before I knew it I was telling him things I hadn’t talked about with people before. I could tell he looked at me like most guys do, but also genuinely wanted to listen to me. Talk about playing unfair; he got defenseless. Suddenly I was smiling again. Anytime with him was time well spent. Then one day, I kissed him.

Ruby:Happily ever after?

Yang:Not even close! Hahaha!

Weiss:Why do you sound proud?

Yang:It’s funny looking back at it to a certain degree. Gods, I was such a brat. More than a few fights are on me. Between Blake, Raven, and other experiences, my insecurities flared up in ugly ways over nothing. It even got us to break up too. I was officially done with dating. My Ruby was out in an uncomfortable position.

Ruby:I bet! I’d never want you two fighting. Especially in my world. Picking between the person I love and my sister!? I don’t know what will happen.

Yang:I kinda do. *sets up* You’d start dating Jaune because you’ve looked at him since Beacon. The two of you would confide in each other and share a special kind of love, but it would be bittersweet. All because your sister still pines for him and never met to make him leave, and Jaune never says it, but he hates how things fell apart. He’s faithful to you and would never do you wrong, a guy to truly cherish. So... you let him go. Watch him walk back to your sister like you asked, because my happiness was worth that much to you.

Ruby:....

Yang: In my world at least. Honestly it’s still the most amazing thing I’ve seen you do. We must’ve cried over that conversation for hours. I felt so guilty and you only smiled, hugging me tight. Jaune and I had a few more stumbles. Nothing serious though. Eventually we moved in together when the world was saved. You and Oscar got together officially which made me happy. Even made our weddings a competition of who’d make dad bawl his eyes out the most. You won by the way; Raven came back into our family and into dad’s arms. Last but not least I had a baby. Yujin Xiao Long, my fucking pride and joy from above.

Weiss:Wow, that’s a lot.

Blake:What am I doing? Did I marry Sun?

Yang:Yep. You and blondes Blake, I tell ya.

Weiss:Hold the phone! Who am I with!?

Yang:Pretty sure you’re technically single. Buuuut, Neo and your have gotten pretty friendly from what I managed to interrogate out of you.

Weiss:That’s, highly unexpected. For a number of reasons.

Yang:Better believe it. Besides Cinder, a few crazies, and Salem, a few people made something of themselves. Dying sucks after all.

Ruby:You have a dead Cinder?

WBY: You don’t?

Ruby:*crosses arms* Hmph, I’ll wait my turn. Yang, you said you’re the only mother from our team. If Blake and I have been married for quite some time then what, we don’t want kids?

The joyful sunshine from Yang slipped into grayer skies. Her smile faded and it increasingly got harder to look at this Ruby without thinking of her own.

Yang:Are you sure that’s something you wanna know? I’ll tell you, but I didn’t want to bring down the mood with the problems where I from.

Blake:Problems? How big of a problem.

Yang:The biggest we’ve faced. It’s...a lot.

Ruby:Well we’ve listened this far. *takes hand* Lay it on us.

Yang:Pfft, oh boy. So...umm...another secret war came up. One that caused us to leave our friends and family for over a decade.

Weiss:A decade!?

Blake:What gets worse after Salem!? Who tries anything after a grimm queen!?

Yang:So a majority of Remnant was still unaware of her, but a fight like that can only be kept under wraps so tightly. Plenty of people still learned fractions of the truth. A few of those people weren’t exactly nice guys. They idolized her efforts and became her followers that wanted to keep her will alive, starting with taking revenge on the people who defeated her. We were so unaware. So caught up in normalcy. They ambushed us, and I mean everyone. We...we didn’t come out unscathed. Ren was crippled badly. Weiss, you almost your brother. Jaune’s family got hit but thankfully lived. The real casualties were aimed to hurt Ruby.

Ruby:Oh, of course. S-So, either you’re about to say I had no time to start a family, or...

Yang:...

Yang:When I tell you the look you made when you learned what happened to Oscar, to Qrow... that’s the moment it felt like my little sister left forever. Till this day you don’t smile like you used to. Very recently, now that it’s finally over, you’ve started looking better, but those ten years were hell. We choose to go out and fight again, avoiding contact with family. I haven’t had a real opportunity to be in my daughters life.

Ruby:How old is she?

Yang:Sixteen soon. Left her when she was four so you know. *tearing up* I missed everything. Just about anyways. Ironically it was Raven and Adam that helped her through the years with Jaune and Dad. Eventually we came back and ooohh boy was Yujin not thrilled in the slightest. Hehehe. Her right hook is really strong. I only had about a week with her before things got complicated again. *wipes eyes* But it’s okay. We left on good term. Something I definitely don’t feel like I deserve.

Blake:I can’t believe a thing like that would be possible.

Yang:Cults are a huge problem in Remnant now. You’re definitely aware of that. You actually oversee a little group from the shadows to deal with them in secret. An idea you got from experience. Adam works for you and everything. Hate to admit, but he’s become the guy you wanted him to be. Even has a family. I’m grateful to him. He personally kept my girl safe.

Blake:To think I’d hear you say that. Now I know this isn’t my world.

Yang:Don’t get me wrong, I still will hit him if given the chance. My life hasn’t been charmed and sacrifices too great were happening way too many times but it finally has gotten to a point where everyone feels like we’re taking steps towards a better future.

Weiss:Moving forward?

Yang:Yes, I was trying to avoid the phrase but yes Weiss, we’re moving forward. Still... *looks at Ruby*....

Ruby:W-What?

Yang:It’s unreal seeing you like this. My Ruby has become so strong and endured but hasn’t really picked herself up completely. All her tragedy stemmed from the loss of Oscar and Qrow; her last talk with Oscar was fight about kids too. That’s the entire reason she went off alone in the first place. Looking at you I can’t help but question my own choices. If...I just let her stay with Jaune, then maybe-

Ruby:Nope.

Yang:Huh?

Ruby:Look, if I know anything about your world, then it’s gonna be me and I can tell you without a doubt your Ruby doesn’t blame or would consider her own happiness without you. She loved you enough to take the chance to find love again. You really think there’s anything you could’ve done differently at that point. That girl is as stubborn as they come! *smiles* So buck up cowgirl. You deserve it.

A sense of warmth came over Yang as she heard those words. This other Ruby smiled at her with the same love as her own; completely caring about Yang’s feeling before her own. Yang felt so...unburdened. She couldn’t help but cry a little, laughing softly as she did. Who would’ve thought love could transcend worlds? It was so vindicating, therapeutic even.

Yang:Ruby, you’re something else entirely, you know that?

Ruby:It’s my curse. All I ever wanted was normal knees but the world said “no, special eyes!”

Yang:Well I guess I should thank the world then?

Weiss:You said your Ruby is getting better? That’s good. Still, it must be pretty weird looking at Jaune. Can’t imagine how lonely it must feel losing a love twice.

Blake:It never numbs.

Yang:Geez you two, lighten up. We can’t all be depressed. Ruby also didn’t lose Jaune. Actually....there may or may not have been an interesting...arrangement for a brief period of time.

Ruby:Ehhh what?

Yang:Hehehe well, hahaha, ummmm a decade is a very long time without feeling any kind of pleasure in a bleak situation. And you know me, I have to share things with you all my life.

Ruby:OH MY GOD!!!

Blake:*grinning* Yooooo! You loaned out Jaune!?

Weiss:That’s....accurate; in a lot of ways.

Ruby:That’s so scandalous! How could you!?

Yang:I didn’t force it! I gave the option, you said no, then you changed your mind because things got real stressful. Like come on, a decade of death and loneliness.

Ruby:Sigh...yeah. I can see it. Still, it’s so filthy. He’s a married man. What, so I’d just look at you and say “Yang I’m gonna sleep with Jaune, don’t come in the room.”

Yang:....

Ruby:What?

Yang:....Nothing.

Ruby:Bullshit! What is it!?

Yang:*scratches head* Well, I was lonely too, and a week is only so long-

Weiss:Oh so it was a group thing!!?

Ruby:WHAT!?

Yang:Only sometimes!

Ruby:SOMETIMES!?

Blake:HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! THAT IS AMAZING!

Ruby:Why are you laughing!?

Blake:Because that’s just so extreme, and not, all at the same time. I could totally see that happening.

Weiss:Same. Dang, Jaune slept with sisters. That’s dangerously close to being like your dad.

Ruby:That’s different!

Blake:Is it though?

Yang:Eh, I don’t see the problem. We’re all grown and make choices. Plus I’m the one who guided you through awkward teenage changes. It not like we didn’t share a room for years.

Ruby:That doesn’t make it okay.

Yang:Eh debatable.

Ruby:*red* It isn’t though! How could I do something so bold!? So taboo!?

Weiss:It isn’t like you’re the one who did it. Just a version of you.

Ruby:Not better!

Yang:Awwww it’s okay Ruby. Let’s hug it out. Hehehe *opens arms*

Ruby:Don’t touch me!

Weiss and Blake laugh until their sides hurt as Ruby tries escaping the bear hug that terrorized her. Yang’s world found interesting for sure. Weiss finally decides to help Ruby out.

Weiss:Got a picture of Yujin?

Yang’s eyes lit up and pulled out her scroll. Her team huddled around her and collectively cooed like that parents they are at the sight of a blonde young girl with gorgeous blue eyes with a black combat school graduation cap and gown and a certificate proudly raised up high. If it wasn’t for those eyes and shoulders length hair, they might’ve mistaken her for Yang.

Yang:She’s going to Beacon early because she’s fucking awesome like her mom.

Ruby:I think you mean her aunt?

Yang:I know what I said.

Weiss:I bet she’s just as hardheaded.

Blake:What do you think your kid is up to right now?

Yang: Well...*smiles*

xxxx

The girl in question sat at a work bench with oil on her face and her hands busy tinkering with gauntlets. She looked over at blueprints in a journal. If they were right, then she was definitely doing something wrong. How her mother made something so complex was crazy!

Yujin:Come on Yujin. You can fix a car, making gauntlets into a sword that don’t break should be easy!

Footsteps came up from behind her and a plate stacked with sandwiches. She looked up and smiled at her dad that gave her a wink, then kissed her forehead.

Jaune:Haveing fun, you grease monkey.

Yujin:Jokes on you, I like monkeys. Just a few more attempts and I’ll have the coolest weapon in Remnant. That entrance exam is as good as aced.

Jaune:Not if you don’t have a landing strategy. Tomorrow we’re going on a trip.

Yujin:Does it happen to be near a cliff?

Jaune:Who can say? Rule one of being a huntsman, be prepared for everything.

He ruffled her hair and left, laughing evilly. Yujin could tell he’s been waiting for this day. She pulled out her scroll and searched through a collection of videos labeled “mom” and found a super early one. She hit play and watched her mother give a peace sign to the camera as trees increasingly got closer from below.

Yang:Beacon rules!!!! Wooohooo!

The camera flipped and focused on a familiar blonde flailing through the air like a doll in the distance.

Yang:Oof, hate to be that guy! Wait, that’s vomit boy! Hahah, hope he survives. He owes me shoes. Poor dude. I guess he needs more training in flirting and landing. Wait, eugh I think he barfed again! Hahaha!

Jaune:Stop watching that one!!!!

Yujin:Hahaha but it’s the best one. The ending is priceless.

Jaune: *walks back down*

Yang:Well if he survives this I guess I can off him at least I can offer him mints and company. Fake it to ya make Jaune. Between me and Ruby, at least you’ll look like a player. Heh, nah, I don’t think I can support a bunny onesie.

Yujin and Jaune:*grinning* And then she did! *high-fives* Arc charm, baby!

#rwby #rwby au #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #rwby dragonslayer #yujin xiao long #rwby lasting embers

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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If you write more for the NM/LW/WWX fic I would lose my entire mind

part 1, part 2

“You know that I was joking, right?” Nie Mingjue asked his younger brother, feeling a little bemused.

He’d only meant to tease a little: it hadn’t taken much time in Wei Wuxian’s presence to realize that the man was inclined towards physical contact with others that often blurred (or simply ignored) the line of propriety, so finding him having clambered into Lan Wangji’s lap to win an argument hadn’t been really a surprise – and neither was Lan Wangji’s reaction, which was to act as though Nie Mingjue had walked in on the two of them engaged in adultery.

Ah, the Lan sect and their rules.

Nie Mingjue was very bad at teasing, actually, a fact Nie Huaisang never failed to mock him over; he had very early on in life perfected an expression that revealed nothing and had somewhere along the line forgotten how to do anything else with his face, and so people invariably took him to have no sense of humor at all when that wasn’t the case at all.

He wasn’t sure if this counted as another instance of that.

Wei Wuxian was so enthusiastic about the idea, too – talking about how convenient it would be (for what?), the political benefits they would derive (never specified), and how it solved all the problems (there had been problems?) – and Lan Wangji was just bright red all the time, stealing glances underneath his lashes, and –

To be perfectly honest, Nie Mingjue had no idea how this had all happened.

Oh, the beginning had been clear enough. Nie Mingjue had never actually seriously considered the question of marriage, having always planned to leave the sect to his younger brother – no matter how Nie Huaisang protested, Nie Mingjue was determined that it would go to him in time, and to his children thereafter, and perhaps at last his ancestor’s line would no longer be afflicted with their hereditary rage which was only in part due to their cultivation style.

Since he didn’t intend to have children, he didn’t intend to marry – his choices were his own, and not something he would impose on a woman – and that had been that, at least until Jiang Cheng had burst in through his door with an ancient contract in hand.

A cutsleeve marriage hadn’t ever occurred to him as an option, but Jiang Cheng had been desperate, all but throwing himself down on his knees to ask that Nie Mingjue consider the proposal as the only means to save his shixiong and his sect, plus a political bargain besides.

It had seemed as decent an option as any. The love match between the Jin heir and the Jiang daughter was extremely convenient for the Jin sect; this would be a good way to balance things out, and keep the inexperienced and still healing Jiang sect from becoming mere weapons in the hands of Lanling Jin.

After thinking it over, Nie Mingjue had expressed his consent, agreed to handle all the arrangements, and then gone to tell Nie Huaisang about it.

“Are you sure about this?” Nie Huaisang had asked, oddly solemn and intense. “What about – the other parts of marriage?”

“Sex, you mean?” he’d replied. He’d faced up years ago to the fact that Nie Huaisang was an unusually avid collector (and a purveyor, at this point) of erotic art, and who even knew where he’d gotten the taste for it; it was easier to just be blunt and straightforward about this sort of thing than try to dance around the subject. “I’m willing to follow his lead. Sect Leader Jiang said he was agreeable, but that could be just to the political aspect; if he prefers not to be in my bed, I can find relief elsewhere.”

“And if he does want to be in your bed?”

“Then I’ll bed him,” Nie Mingjue had said, not really seeing the issue. His tastes had always been as straightforward as he was, without discrimination by gender or even overly much by appearance; if they liked him, and he liked them, it was good enough for him – why bother thinking it over any more than that? “He seemed lively enough.”

Nie Huaisang had sighed. “Yes, he’s lively all right; more importantly, he’s competent, and that’s been your thing since forever. But that’s not – a marriage isn’t just sex. I know what you’re like, da-ge, better than anyone: when you’re sincere, you’re sincere, and nothing can be done about it. I’d even assumed, once, that you would end up marrying – well, never mind. The question remains: even if you’re indifferent now, what happens if you fall in love?”

“Then I’d be in love with my husband?” Nie Mingjue had hazarded. “That doesn’t seem like a problem?”

Nie Huaisang had groaned, declared Nie Mingjue ‘a useless good-for-nothing when it comes to romance’, and agreed to handle all aspects of the marriage going forward.

And now –

“Oh, yes, I know you were joking when you said that,” Nie Huaisang said, tapping his fan to his lips the way he did when he was scheming something. It was usually something stupid (how to get out of responsibilities, how to get something he wanted, how to pull a truly amazing prank on someone he disliked) but in all actuality Nie Mingjue’s brother was incredibly smart, endlessly stubborn, and highly capable, no matter how he tried to hide his light under a bushel. There was a reason Nie Mingjue wanted their sect to go to him. “But the question is – are you?”

Nie Mingjue stared at him. “What?”

“You don’t have to be joking,” Nie Huaisang said. “You could marry them both. It’s not as if our treasury couldn’t afford the dowries, especially after all our victories in the war.”

“But there isn’t any reason for it. We already have a connection to the Lan sect – I’m sworn brothers with their sect leader!”

“Yes,” Nie Huaisang said patiently. “There is no political benefit to it whatsoever. You could still do it.”

Nie Mingjue opened his mouth, then closed it, and then finally shot Nie Huaisang a look that asked him to explain.

“Wei-xiong and Lan-er-gongzi are both extremely desirable,” Nie Huaisang said. “They’re brilliant cultivators, incredibly smart, incredibly powerful, highly principled – Wei-xiong had the integrity to stand up for the Wen remnants even against the entire cultivation world, Lan-er-gongzi has always acted for the greater good without any doubt or reservation. There’s a reason they’re ranked so highly in the list of young masters.”

He leaned back in his seat, shifting over and starting to idly fan himself.

“Take Lan-er-gongzi: he’s one of the most technically skilled cultivators of my generation, whether in music, sword, archery, or otherwise; there’s isn’t one of the six arts in which he’s lacking, and he’s already known for always being where the chaos is, no matter how little fame it may bring him. Wei-xiong, in turn, is among the most creative cultivators alive, inventing not only an entire new path of cultivation but a myriad of inventions that have proven helpful to all– the spirit attraction flag, the compass of evil, just to name two – and he’s shared them openly, without the slightest inclination to keep them back for his own sect over others. In short, both of them have qualities you greatly admire in people.”

Nie Mingjue nodded. There was nothing wrong with Nie Huaisang’s analysis, excepting only his omission that they had both been fierce advocates of his war against the Wens, both having made significant contributions both on their own merits and through their advocacy – without the two of them, the war might not yet have been won.

For Nie Mingjue, whose filial duty to his father demanded Wen blood, that was a strong mark in their favor.

“Based on what you’re telling me,” Nie Huaisang continued, “for whatever reason, both of them seem to be interested in you. You’re one of the few people who can reliably read Lan expressions: if you tell me Lan Wangji isn’t opposed to the idea, it’s all but saying that he’s fiercely in favor of it. Wei Wuxian hasn’t been even remotely shy about how much he likes the concept. So that brings me to my question: do you want them?”

Nie Mingjue opened his mouth, only to find a fan on his lips, silencing him.

“I want you to think about this seriously, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said. “If you’re really determined for me to be the next Sect Leader Nie, you’ll eventually have to listen to me, so start now. For once in your life, don’t think about the sect. Don’t think about me. Don’t think about anything. No considerations, no benefits and disadvantages, nothing at all. Just close your eyes, think about the two of them, think about the fact that you can have them if you want them, and then tell me – do you want them?”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #my fic #my fics #pasttime with good company #wangxian #nie mingjue/wei wuxian/lan wangji #there are a few more prompts for this one as well #frogoclock

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dawn-of-tomorrow · 3 years

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PGR COMMANDANT Q & A

FINALLY TOOK THE TIME TO ANSWER THIS-- ssdsjdlksd

link to OG post here! (made by @punishing-gray-raven-ocs)

1) How do you feel about being a Commandant? Are you proud of your job? Terrified of failing at your job?

Higetsu: Honestly speaking, it's nothing new compared to what I went through in the past-- just that now I've become an authority figure that has to lead people. ...Truthfully, however, a little unnerving, but it has to be done, and I knew what I was getting into when I decided to become one.

Yoko: Mhhmm... it's tough, I'm not gonna lie. Sometimes I have to make decisions I personally don't like but the situation demands it, and it ends up not sitting right with me. ...That's why an occasional loophole exploitation here and there is fine in spare amounts, ain't it~?

(Higetsu: Who the hell taught you to think like that-- you know what, never mind, I'd be shooting myself in the foot if I finished that sentence. // Yoko: *giggles, does a victory pose*)

2) Why did you become Commandant in the first place? How did you become a Commandant?

Yoko: Brother and I decided to become a Commandant to honor mom's memory. It sounds kinda childish to have that as a reason to take up a career as dangerous as this, but, at least to me (though I'm sure brother shares the same sentiment as I do), mom was everything to us, so we wanted to experience what she did, see the sights she did-- all the good and bad.

Higetsu: "That person", huh... Speaking of which, the relatively-fresh flowers at that grave--... No, it's nothing. In any case, "that person" took us in as her children after finding us in the remnants of our old home, bringing us back to Babylonia, to her home and husband. Well, things went as you can see, no?

3) How do your Constructs feel about your leadership skills? Are they comfortable with you? Do they fear you?

Higetsu: There's no issues at the moment with either Strike Hawk or Gray Raven. After all, if there was any problem, either Chrome or Lucia would've told me. ...Leading isn't my strongest skill, though, and sometimes they worry me. Actually, scratch that, not sometimes, FREQUENTLY. Haaaahh.

Yoko: Hrmm~... honestly, I'm not entirely too confident with my leadership skills, and the others often say that I'm a bit too lenient when it comes to dealing with Gray Raven, but... they're still people, you know? I don't want them to get hurt too much, but they don't seem to value their own lives as much as I'd wish they do...

4) Do you think the war against the Corrupted will ever come to an end?

Yoko: It will certainly come, I know it. As long as everyone continues to fight for a future, a future where we can all live in peace, then I believe that this war will come to an end. Be it in our lifetime, or the next generation.

Higetsu: ... Honestly speaking, I'm not as optimistic as Yoko. This war has been going on for a century at this point, and we are still barely scratching the surface of our objectives; that and it would seem like a bunch of rats managed to infiltrate the higher-ups. ...In any case, while I do think that the odds are stacked against us, it doesn't mean I don't believe that, one day, this entire hell will come to an end.

5) Are you in love with anyone? What drew you to them?

Higetsu: ....No comment.

Yoko: Brother~~!! It's no fun if you don't answer a harmless question like this~~!! Or do you want me to talk about your ex-penpal--

Higetsu: I evoke my right to remain silent, and DON'T YOU DARE- LIKE I KEEP SAYING, WE WERE ONLY FRIENDS-- Don't make me not let you come to the Oasis with me next time.

Yoko: Hrrmph...! Fiiine~. In any case, I'll answer here right now. I--

Higetsu: It's Lee. We all know it, you're way too obvious in your affections for him.

Yoko: Ehehe... E-Ehem--! I-In any case~~ the things I like about Lee, gosh, there's so many I might not be able to tell everything (and it would take too long)--!

Higetsu: Then just list off the top 3 things you like about him (to shorten the exposition).

Yoko: Hmmm, top 3 things about Lee, huh.... well, for starters, I like his caring nature; it's not that obvious at first glance, but he really does care about the people around him, so much so that while he may gripe and verbally snark at others, in the end he chooses to do good by them and will protect them. Secondly, I like his focus and determination; he's a man of his word, and he doesn't make promises lightly, seeing them as something that must be upheld in sincerity-- ehe, his face whenever he's working on his tools and machinery is something I can't ever not look at. Thirdly, I like him; he's equally easily flustered and annoyed by a lot of things, but at the same time, he's also very serious and earnest in what he sets out to do; he's not honest with himself, but his actions speak for itself. ....That got long, didn't it?

Higetsu: Very much so.

Yoko: Ehe~.

6) If you had to choose between saving your squad, or saving yourself to make sure you would fight on in their honor, which would you choose?

Yoko: Both. I would save myself and my squad. I won't accept any other option; rather, if there's no other option, then I WILL force that third option in!

Higetsu: Logically speaking, both of my squads would tell me to survive and live another day, and I would agree with that. ...However, such a thing doesn't sit well with me. Even if there's only the tiniest sliver of a possibility that I could save them, no matter how reckless or dangerous it may be, then I'd save the Strike Hawks and Gray Ravens.

7) You have to make a difficult choice that will affect your squad and another squad. Which squad do you prioritize? Why?

Higetsu: We can't always save people from out of our reach, so it's best to protect the ones closest to you.

Yoko: But if there's a chance that we could help them, then--

Higetsu: ...I know. ...In the end, it's your choice to do what you think is right, Yoko.

Yoko: ...Yeah. I get it. Brother wants to protect me, Gray Raven, and Strike Hawk, even at the cost of other's lives.... that's why I wish to save the others too.

8) Who is your least favorite Construct/person to be around? Why?

Higetsu: Nanami.

Yoko: EEEHHH!??! Why?! Nanami's fun to be around!!

Higetsu: Shall I list off the reasons?

Yoko: ....Ok you have a point, but she's not at all that bad--!!

Higetsu: True, but the amount of headaches she causes us is just... haaaah.

Yoko: Ah, you're starting to sound like Watanabe. Is Brother becoming an uncle now? (laughs)

Higetsu: ...I'm leaving.

Yoko: Wait I was just kidding-- brother-- BROTHER--!!! (We're not even finished with answering the questions yet~!!)

Higetsu: Just kidding.

Yoko: Really--!! (pout)

Higetsu: (amused chuckle) What about you, Yoko?

Yoko: Eh? Me? Hmm.... I suppose... it would have to be Gabriel. It's a first that I'm saying this but, I really do hate him.

Higetsu: ... Don't worry, I can say the same thing.

9) What other Commandants would you like to meet? (a clear invitation for you to involve any of my Commandants lol, because I'm always up for interacting with others)

Yoko: I'm always happy to meet other Commandants~. It's always nice to meet your colleagues whenever, especially during off-work hours.

Higetsu: Except Vanessa though. I'd rather not deal with her again.

Yoko: Ehehe... Brother, you're making a scary face right now~. In any case, I've always wanted to meet Qiu, Ash, Xiao, Kyrie, and Noir!

Higetsu: Aaaah, them. They're interesting people, not gonna lie.

10) What will you do once the war is over? Will you miss leading your squad, or will you be happy that the war is over?

Higetsu: What will I do after the war is over? ...I haven't actually put any thought into what I would do after this is all over. What about you, Yoko?

Yoko: Hmmm... honestly, I wanna join the Association of Arts, specifically the Archaeological team! Because, you know, by then, there would be no more worry of the Punishing attacking, and we could finally be able to recover in peace the remnants of the Golden Age. I want to see it all-- what other stuff left have we not unearthed from the sands of time, what potential wonders are there left from the past. ...And of course, I wanna settle down with Lee someday too, ehe.

Higetsu: I see. You've really thought about this through, huh.

Yoko: Only a little, and just fairly recently. ...Not gonna lie, I'm gonna end up missing these days; where we're all together, even through pain and suffering, because there are still a lot of good moments to cherish.

Higetsu: But it doesn't mean that you have to cut off your connections, now does it. So long as you still value them wholeheartedly and sincerely, those bonds you hold close to you will never die out.

Yoko: Aaawww, brother, you're being finally honest~! (pokes)

Higetsu: ....Shut it. (pout)

Yoko: What about you, brother? What're you gonna do after the war ends?

Higetsu: Like I said, I don't know, since I haven't thought of it yet. ...But, I suppose quietly settling down somewhere would be nice.

Yoko: Oh, right, speaking of which-- didn't Watanabe extend an offer for us to join the Oasis? ...Don't tell me, brother is thinking--

Higetsu: No, I am not.

Yoko: But you ARE thinking about it, yes?

Higetsu: ....

Yoko: Hehe~. To be fair, the Oasis isn't so bad. The people there are really nice and warm. They really do seem to be people just trying to live and get by, helping and supporting each other.

#punishing gray raven #pgr #战双帕弥什 #パニシング #戰雙帕彌什 #パニシンググレイレイヴン #ocs #pgr ocs #pgr yoko #pgr higetsu #pgr commandant #oc asks

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Midnight”

Happy Saturday, everyone! I’d like to extend a formal congratulations to every Cinder fan in the community. Criticisms of the writing aside, you all struck gold with twelve whole minutes devoted to your fave and I’m absolutely thrilled for you.

We again start with a dark screen and some audio, in this case Cinder’s scrubbing. This technique—along with closeups on eyes—is a real favorite of RWBY’s this volume, to the point where I think they’re a little too enamored with it. But at least this is just a preference, not something that actively harms the storytelling in any way, so it’s welcome to stay. This time, unlike our premiere, we stay on Cinder as her life is summed up with three events intercut with one another: scrubbing floors, getting taunted by boys, and the sound of heels making their way towards her. It’s clear that Cinder leads a poor, miserable life, if her dirty clothes and stronger guys throwing her around is any indication, but all that changes when the rich woman says “I’ll take her” and Cinder is transported to a better life in a wealthy hotel.

At least supposedly.

Here’s my problem with the worldbuilding. This moment has Witcher vibes and Witcher, in turn, built itself off of a trope seen a hundred times before: A young woman is treated terribly by her family, is whisked away by a wealthy/powerful caretaker, and though her life has arguably improved, she quickly learns that the new world she’s entered is just as dangerous and harsh as the one she left. In Witcher’s case, Yennefer is a disabled woman abused by her family, bought by Tissaia, and taken to Aretuza where the other girls hate her and the curriculum is potentially deadly. Cinder is a poor woman arguably abused by her family (scrubbing)/the locals (fights), is taken by an unnamed woman, and whisked away to the swanky hotel where the daughters hate her and the work is potentially deadly due to shock collars. The difference between these two setups is that Tissaia bought Yennefer because of her magical potential. Why does our hotel lady take Cinder?

I mean yeah, obviously she wants a slave, but it’s a little weird isn’t it? Usually when a young woman falls headfirst into a new and questionable life, there’s a solid reason for her entry. This woman—whose lack of a name also says something about the worldbuilding—could have hired anyone she pleased to abuse. As we saw in regards to Atlas and Mantle in the past, every city has its poor and downtrodden. So what made her go out to some random farm and snatch Cinder up? It just, as always, feels a little too convenient. Cinder didn’t enter this life because something about her characterization or origin justified it, the plot simply ensured that she, out of everyone possible, and with very little reason, was the one chosen to follow The Plot™ .

It also messes with the Cinderella parallels. Originally (or “originally,” going off of Disney here which is likely what RWBY is using as a template too) it’s her step-family that abuses her and yes, we recreate that via the hiring (“hiring”—I doubt she was paid), but Cinder was already scrubbing floors back home. Her status as the servant already existed. So why change locations? Why not just keep Cinder as an abused farm girl, or have her a part of the hotel family right from the start? Part of the reason why Cinderella resonates is because of the contrast between the happy life with her father and the new, horrific life she falls into once he dies. Which is then further contrasted by the rest of the outside world. Fairy Godmother, Prince, and party-goers alike are all presented as kind, decent people. They represent the “real” world that Cinderella can escape to. By making Cinder’s original life horrible, her new life worse, and everyone connected with that life cruel and/or indifferent (with the exception of this one, special huntsmen)… you paint a very different picture of the world as a whole. Which is something RWBY has been vocal about trying to accomplish—it’s not a fairy tale—the only problem is with how these moments are undermined the second the story wants Ruby to ~Believe in People~. Cinderella is a story about enduring and eventually overcoming temporary hardship. Cinder’s story is about endless hardship that creates villains. A dark and fascinating story… but how does that fit into last week’s episode where Ruby told the whole world about Salem, expecting them to band together in peace and harmony? This is how Remnant’s world treats people when there’s not a global crisis, and Cinder isn’t even a faunus.

Which, I want to make clear going into the rest of this recap, does not excuse Cinder for her actions. At all. I think there are some complicated acknowledgements to be made in terms of her abuse and the Huntsmen’s responsibility in it continuing, but that does not give Cinder a blanket pass for all the horrific shit she has pulled over the years. Cinder didn’t just defend herself from abusers, she became one. More on that in a minute.

First though… is the Huntsmen’s name Rhodes? Did we hear that in the episode? If we did, I totally missed it because I have a note here about the one important character not getting a name. So yeah, idk. If we got this from more supplemental info, bad RWBY. If I missed it, bad Clyde. Either way, I’ll use that name going forward.

Back to the plot at hand. The hotel is, as said, populated by indifferent and shallow people and there’s no desert nearby, so I presume we’re supposed to be in Atlas? (Why did this woman buy a girl from another Kingdom?) There are customers getting drunk, flirting, and generally just enjoying their wealth, which harkens back to Weiss’ comment in Volume 4 about all their problems being superficial. We’re introduced to the owner’s two daughters who are, as expected, quintessential Mean Girls.

They love ordering Cinder around, not just with hotel chores, but personal ones as well like, “rub my feet”… despite the fact that this place is massive and must have an equally massive staff to stay in business. Why aren’t the girls terrorizing anyone else? Again, it makes sense for Cinder(ella) to be the focus of their abuse when she’s in a single household, but transplanting that to a hotel raises a lot of questions that RWBY hasn’t bothered to examine. You can’t move a story like that and not think about what further changes that would evoke.

See, RWBY could have done something interesting here by considering some of those other changes. Like having one or both step-sisters be the one to help free Cinder from her abuse, playing the villain before becoming the fairy godmother. Up until she turns villain instead of hero, this is just Cinderella’s story copy and pasted into RWBY. It’s moments like this that should make us wary of using fairy tale allusions as evidence for our readings and theories. Whether RWBY is deconstructing or upholding a story varies wildly, and we never know what we’ll get until we actually see it on screen. Even then we can’t count on a choice remaining consistent, as we saw with Ironwood’s deconstruction being tossed out the window in Volume 7.

Cinder is originally just as meek as her fairy tale counterpart too. We don’t hear her speak until the owner is about to leave when she simply goes, “Food?” The sisters laugh at her and a roll is thrown to the floor with the comment that she should get busy because it “looks filthy.” I quite like that moment. Your job is to ensure the floors are clean enough to eat off of—literally.

We see a montage of Cinder doing just that, lots of chores, with a new song listing all the tasks she’s now responsible for. During this, Rhodes is seen in the background and witnesses when Cinder (presumably) first uses her semblance by heating up the brush and chucking it at the sisters, creating a massive cloud of steam.

It’s that moment which “earns” her a shock session with her necklace and I’m staring at the screen, a little open-mouthed. I mean, that’s the second child torture we’ve seen this volume (with Cinder being ten here). Again, I’m not making a specific accusation, just going, “Really?”

Also, note the anti-faunus sign. Nothing like continually showing us racist establishments rather than actually writing a story that deals with the racism needless put into the story world. I’d like to remind everyone of my previous comments this Volume about how the story works hard to paint Mantle as sympathetic, but refuses to show anything that does the same for Atlas citizens, people who are in just as much danger with Salem as an equalizer. A whole city is not actually made up of shallow racists, the show is just showing us only those people to create a simplistic “They’re all bad” reading that encourages us to reject Atlas and, by extension, Ironwood. Weiss is walking proof that Atlas citizens are both complex individuals and capable of bettering themselves. If we can come to adore the Schnee heiress, we should be questioning why nearly every other citizen is painted as an abuser, too wealthy to care, or has conveniently left the story (Rhodes dead, Klein gone, Whitley rejected, etc.).

As Cinder is being tortured, we see that she’s forced to say, “Without you, I am nothing.” Now see, this is excellent... in theory. This is the kind of line we needed to hear with some consistency over the last seven years (if RWBY still insisted on waiting that long for a backstory), setting up that this line is clearly engrained in Cinder and she repeats it on instinct. Instead—to my recollection, anyway—we only get it this Volume, in two episodes. If it appeared before then it wasn’t notable enough to remember. I commented on this before, but it wasn’t a, “Ah, this line must be important” reaction, it was a “Lol why is RWBY using the same line twice? That’s weird.” By only giving it to us twice before the backstory and in such a short timeframe, the impact of this reveal is lost. We’re only now realizing that the line is important, rather than coming to realize why.

Our writers know just enough to recognize what techniques work, but not enough to have figured out what makes them tick. They get that providing a RWBY-vised version of Cinderella is cool, but not how to adapt that 100% successfully. They know that repeated lines have power, but not how to create good setup for the reveal. They know the camera should use closeups, but not what moments are important enough to warrant that. RWBY, eight years on, still feels like a newbie writer copying what the great stories are doing without yet understanding why those aspects work and, thus, how to recreate them.

I mean, Cinder’s backstory appearing now attests to that most obviously. I waved at the Cinder fans before, but the reality is that most viewers don’t care, either because Cinder herself is so bland, and/or because the story waited too long to make her a little more interesting. This entire flashback was handled badly simply by virtue of it arriving over seven years past the character’s introduction.

So after this torture session Cinder steals Rhode’s sword. We hear some dialogue in the background of him getting pissed that it’s missing and the sisters promising to find it, implying that Cinder will have this tool at her disposal for a while. Instead, seconds later he’s found her hideout and confronts her. I don’t know if I’m impressed with Rhode’s skills, or rolling my eyes at how contrived this all is. Chuck in the question of whether Cinder was talented enough to steal the sword out from under him, or if Rhodes was stupid enough to leave it lying around, and I’m edging towards the eye rolling.

He dodges Cinder’s attack, rolls her more weapons to prove he’s not here to hurt her, and acknowledges that she’s not getting “the most fair treatment.” Okay, here’s where things start to get complicated. Rhodes tells Cinder she shouldn’t run away because then she’ll be running her whole life (don’t really agree with that). He likewise (rightly imo) tells her not to straight up murder them because look, no matter how much of a shit stain someone is, I can’t condone slamming a sword through their chest on an individual’s say-so (especially when two of those people are also kids growing up under an abuser, like Whitely). So what’s left? Rhodes says Cinder can train to become a huntress. At ten years old, she has seven years to prepare for the exam.

But she has to stay with her abusive family until then.

My problem is far less with the claim that this “has” to happen and far more with the writing’s failure to tell us why. Cinder could have begged to come with Rhodes and he says she can’t because… idk. Make up a reason. He doesn’t make enough to feed the both of them. It would be too dangerous out on missions without training and he doesn’t have a permanent place to stay (hence using the hotel all the time). He could even go the “They’re your legal guardians” route with more explanation because it’s arguable that Rhodes had no idea about the collar. Doesn’t mean Cinder’s treatment isn’t “that bad” in his eyes, just that he might not have known the extent and thus thought it was preferable for Cinder to put up with “just” being insulted and overworked until she’s 17. That this life that he only has a partial picture of is preferable to the life she’d have at his side. Something to explain the stakes here, the risks, and why he took this stance.

And/or give us a reason why Cinder doesn’t try to run, a suggestion I make very cautiously because it’s not my intention to put the responsibility solely on her. This isn’t meant to be a “Just save yourself! It’s easy!” claim. Rather, it’s an acknowledgement that young, barely trained kids go out into the world all the time in this show—Ruby, Oscar—and it’s an acknowledgement that Cinder tugged off her collar easy-peasy. The point is, practically speaking, Cinder could have left and braved the streets like Emerald did… so give us a reason why she decided to stay. Maybe she’s scared of living on the streets, acknowledging that a little food and a place to sleep is better than nothing. Maybe she’s scared that if she doesn’t have a direct connection to the hotel (convenience), Rhodes won’t train her anymore. Maybe, as an abuse victim, she can’t articulate why she won’t leave, she just can’t. Something to acknowledge these gaps because, right now, we just have the fandom going, “See? This is why the huntsmen are all evil cops. Rhodes took the lawful route and look where it got Cinder! He’s the responsible adult in this situation, so it’s all his fault.” Problem is, this take ignores:

The fact that our heroes are also huntsmen and were pretending to be huntsmen before they had those lawful licenses. So what does that make them? We can’t continually criticize these professional roles without criticizing our heroes’ use of them as well. Ruby just ensured the world would take her message seriously by introducing herself as a huntress. We can’t condemn these laws and privileges while likewise letting Ruby continue to use them however she please. It’s okay if she’s a part of the system, because Ruby is inherently good! That’s not how this works. I’ve just described every American cop show that tumblr is currently turning against: The system is corrupt and needs to be overhauled, but our protagonists are different.

The story fails to tell us why Rhodes won’t do more outside of a single line about Cinder being of legal age. That just acknowledges that age has some bearing on his decision, not whether it outweighs other considerations (can Cinder survive if she leaves?), or whether Rhodes even has a full picture of what’s happening to her (the collar). The takeaway is that we don’t know what his though process was because RWBY didn’t show it to us, not that his thought process is automatically awful.

Rhodes, as a literal stranger entering her life, is not 100% responsible for what happens to Cinder. I know people don’t want to acknowledge that because leaving a child in that situation is absolutely horrific, but if RWBY wants to be ~realistic~ (and it does) then we need to acknowledge that reality too. If you saw a child employee getting yelled at in a hotel and then found her with your sword, would you rip the collar off her neck and be like, “Congratulations, you’re my child now”? Nice as that trope is, probably not! Or hell, maybe a lot of you would upend your life and risk legal action to whisk them away, but a lot of other people wouldn’t... and they're not the devil for doing what they can within the bounds of the law. The idea that because Rhodes unexpectedly had one (1) encounter with Cinder means he’s now responsible for her life and outcome is, well, crazy. “But, Clyde, you can’t just see that kind of horror and not do something about it.” You’re right. You know what you do? Tell the authorities. But does Remnant have the equivalent of social workers? We don’t know! Which means we can’t assume that Rhodes didn’t call them just because he’s a bad person. Or maybe they exist and the fandom considers them too corrupt to be useful, like so many other authorities in this show. So… what else is there for him to do? There doesn’t seem to be anyone above Rhodes that he can turn to, he doesn’t (for whatever reason) want to essentially kidnap Cinder and start a new life with her, so what’s left? Try to give Cinder a healthy relationship and a way to escape in the long run, which is precisely what Rhodes did.

Honestly, I’m kind of salty that this guy went out of his way to help her, he saw what everyone else saw and was the only one who would help her, but because he didn’t do more—because he didn’t entirely upend his life and/or risk arrest to take her away to this hypothetically better situation—the fandom is acting like it’s his fault Cinder killed her abusers. It’s not. Cinder made that choice.

At the end of the day, blaming Rhodes reveals the expectation that it’s his responsibility to solve this massive problem purely because he had the bad luck to be the one Cinder stole from. That’s like telling a teacher who learns about abuse from a paper that following the lawful channels and going out of his way to assist the child in other ways is responsible when the kid murders their family one day. “Why didn’t you just barge into the house and take the kid?!” Because there are a hundred reasons why that would go incredibly badly? Rhodes can’t help Cinder if he’s in jail. Rhodes can’t help Cinder if she ends up dead on a mission while following him. Rhodes can’t help Cinder if their attempt at escape fails and she bears the punishment.

The only thing I think Rhodes did absolutely wrong was giving Cinder the sword while she was still under the owner’s thumb. Stupid, but not cruel. And again, stupid does not equal blanket responsibility. I’m likewise seeing, “Rhodes gave her the sword and thus it’s his fault that Cinder got in trouble. It’s his fault they died. What was Cinder supposed to do, not defend herself?” Are people forgetting that Cinder stole the sword herself in the beginning and then readily accepted it again? She had agency in obtaining weaponry and what she wanted it for. Are people forgetting that, in accepting it, she likewise accepted the risk of keeping it hidden in the hotel? Are people forgetting that the time skip shows this happening years later and that Rhodes clearly thought Cinder was past her murderous streak? Are people forgetting that Cinder killed the owner by snapping her neck and resisting the shock collar, no sword required? She could have killed them any time she pleased based on the crime scene, whether Rhodes had given her a weapon or not. The weapon was just the catalyst that, truthfully, could have been caused by anything else. Cinder snaps when they find the sword and she’s tortured. Cinder snaps when she drops another tray and she’s tortured. She had planned to kill her abusers and never completely let go of that.

Honestly, I’m just annoyed that we have another good hearted, takes action, does his best and makes some mistakes character getting blamed for everything another character chose to do, erasing their agency in the process. Rhodes did not abuse Cinder. Rhodes did not force her to kill her actual abusers. And Rhodes is certainly not responsible for what Cinder later becomes. Could Rhodes have done more? Of course, but every character could always do more.

The tl;dr is that this complex situation needed far better setup in the show and the fandom needs to stop using that lack of setup as “proof” that characters are horrible people when they fail to magically fix said complicated, badly explained problems. Cinder chose to murder three people. Whether that was justified in the face of her abuse is up to you to decide, but it was still her choice. Please stop blaming the adult male characters for the choices the teenage girls in this show make. RWBY is too convoluted and attempting to tackle too many complex issues to reduce that to, “Every man here is the evil, responsible party and ever girl is a #queen. Even when they go on to murder Pyrrha ^_^” As a woman who would very much like to be rooting for the mostly-woman cast more than I now do, this isn’t the feminist take people want it to be.

But I’ve jumped waaaay ahead. Let’s backtrack a bit.

That first interaction between Rhodes and Cinder is super weird because the camera keeps covering Rhodes’ face and I don’t know why.

We segue into that montage of him training her for presumably years (Cinder’s hair changes) until we see him giving her the sword in what’s meant to be a moment of pride and trust. Soon after, Rhodes (randomly) comes back to the hotel when everyone else is asleep and hears noises in the back. Moving to check them out, he discovers that Cinder has murdered the two sisters and is in the process of murdering the owner, throwing back the line, “Without you, I am nothing, but because of you, I am everything.” Again, much more impactful if this had been a line we’ve associated with Cinder for years now, not a couple of episodes.

After she breaks the owner’s neck (damn, strong hand!) she tells Rhodes she doesn’t have to run anymore. Cinder clearly expects him to be happy for her and is shocked when he takes out his weapons.

I’m sorry, this is not a “betrayal.” Could Rhodes have just let Cinder go? Sure. Should he have? Given what she becomes, that’s very debatable! Rhodes clearly thought he’d helped her grow into someone who was not inclined towards murder (giving her the sword) and thus is probably going to be a little rattled when he walks in to find her killing three people. Again, there are obvious differences given the level of abuse Cinder seems to have suffered in comparison, but imagine that Glynda, after teaching Weiss for years, walked in on her killing Jacques and Whitley in revenge. Is she supposed to just ignore that? Shrug her shoulders and wish her well? I know a lot of people consider that the “fair” outcome given the inclusion of abuse, but that’s because we’ve had an omniscient view of Cinder’s history and insight into her emotional state. Rhodes doesn’t have that. All he has is his oath as a huntsmen to prevent things like, you know, murder sprees. I’m not going to delve into the overall ethics of a judicial system, either in RWBY or the real world, and thus I’m not going to make any naive claims about it being fair—it’s fucking not—but I don’t think the answer to these systematic problems is, “Why wouldn’t you just let the teenager murder three bad people and then go on her way? She totally deserved it!” Rhodes is not in a position to decide that, which is the entire point of having a judicial system in the first place.

So Rhodes wants to bring Cinder in. Kind of like how Clover wanted to bring Qrow in once he had an arrest warrant. I can’t emphasize enough that wanting to start a legal process rather than letting clearly guilty/potentially guilty people go because they WANT to is not a “betrayal.” Regardless of what teen dramas may have taught us, you don’t have to potentially throw your own freedom and your morals away because you found out a friend is wanted by the authorities. Or you walk in on them currently snapping someone’s neck. There are options other than, “Believe your friend is right without question and help them hide the bodies” (looking at you, Maria, Pietro). Whitely is not insane for going, “Hey, can you not make me an accomplice to a crime by forcing your way in here with a bunch of fugitives?” I’m constantly surprised by the number of fans who can, in one breath, condemn characters for not throwing a middle finger up at the law and in the next praise Jacques’ arrest. Do we want to benefit from this system or not? If yes, that means you have to weigh which laws can be broken (such as in a protest), which should be obeyed (bring murderers and wanted men in), all while working to change the laws that are prejudice and aren’t working.

Anyway, they fight. It’s short and sweet, backdropped by the large clock striking midnight, hence our title. I’m incredibly suspicious of Cinder breaking Rhode’s aura first, given that she’s still the student in training, but here we can more persuasively say he wasn’t fighting seriously, given that he then stupidly rushes towards her without a weapon. Still, that would be the second time now that RWBY has relied on elite fighters “holding back” to explain how the kids in training beat them, the first instance, of course, being with the Ace Ops.

Rhodes does rush Cinder though when she hits the wall and breaks her own aura, clearly concerned. She uses the moment to stab him with both swords. He uses his last breaths to put a hand on her head, conveying that he doesn’t blame her for how this all turned out.

Then Cinder pulls off her collar with a single snap and looks up at the broken moon, crying her single tear.

I’m dragging the flashback for multiple reasons, but I want to emphasize that I think this episode is leagues better from what we got last week. Absolute night and day. It’s just that, as always, improvements are incredibly comparative in RWBY. It’s not really good for numerous reasons… it’s just better than what we’ve gotten before. It’s “great” provided you go in with standards buried in the ground.

We then return to the present as Cinder wakes up in Salem’s whale. This scene gives us a great shot of her grimm arm, so cosplayers take note!

Emerald arrives soon after and immediately rushes to her side, expressing how worried she was. She grabs Cinder’s grimm hand without hesitation. Honestly, I don’t care much about either character… but this single frame activated some sort of ship button in my brain.

Not fully because I’m personally not drawn to toxic relationships in fiction (which, as I’m about to explain, would absolutely be the case here), but just the tinniest bit. Because I’m a sucker for monstrous people being loved despite their monstrous nature, so having Emerald take that hand over the other is like a ship speed run for me.

I’m predictable, folks.

But we need to talk about less happy things for a moment. I mentioned above Cinder becoming an abuser herself. I hope I don’t need to lay out the laundry list of murders, attempted murders, sabotage, and general taking-over-the-world-ness she’s engaged in since Episode One. Don’t let a sad backstory erase all that. Hell, for all we know the hotel owner had a horrific backstory too! Doesn’t justify how she treated Cinder. The point though is beyond her clear status as a villain, we now know that Cinder treats Emerald just like the owner once treated her.

Cinder was “rescued” from her life on the farm by the owner. Emerald is “rescued” from her life on the streets by Cinder.

Both realize over time that the situation they’re now in is actually worse.

Both reiterate that they “owe” the other “everything,” with Cinder having that shocked into her and Emerald seeming to willingly believe it.

The owner treats Cinder as a slave. Cinder treats Emerald as a slave. “Both of you, get out. I’ll let you know when you’re needed.” The only difference is that Cinder’s orders were things like “Scrub floors” and Emerald’s are “Convince an audience this girl attacked our ally.”

Both use threats to keep the other in line: the owner with her shock collar and Cinder with her Maiden powers. Cinder doesn’t need to resort to violence (yet) because Emerald adores her, but the threat is always there.

There are even visual similarities this episode, such as kneeling and gem necklaces, though I acknowledge fully that those are just interesting details as opposed to anything like persuasive proof.

The point is that Cinder became exactly what she hated, she just turned the dial up to eleven by going after the whole world instead of a single child. “But Cinder never had a chance to be anything else.” Sure she did. Blake and Weiss are proof of that. Even if we believe that Cinder was doomed to be a villain due to the extent of her abuse, what does that say about the hotel’s owner? We don’t know anything about her history, so what if she was abused too? Does that mean she was always “doomed” to treat Cinder that way? Does that excuse everything she did to her because she supposedly never stood a chance of becoming anything else? Of course not.

Though very iffily done, this is a commentary on the cycle of abuse. Each case is horrific, but it doesn’t excuse what comes later. Every abuser was once an innocent child and every innocent child has the capability of becoming the next abuser. Cinder’s life up until now was beyond awful and yes, she lacked a lot of privileges that others had to help them head down a better path, like Weiss’ wealth. On the other hand, she lacks other difficulties that would make that path harder for others, like Blake’s status as a faunus. Everyone has a choice to make: Will you treat others the way you were treated because that’s “fair,” or will you decide to treat others better than what you were dealt? There are lots of aspects that factor into the likelihood of someone choosing the latter—which is why I really like Rhode’s hand on Cinder’s head, acknowledging his understanding that she’s an abused kid taking the only path she thinks is available to her—but individual agency is by no means removed from the equation. Cinder escaped her situation and decided she’d never be powerless again. What does that mean to her, perhaps becoming a community member who works to prevent abuse like the kind she suffered? No, it means grinding the entire world under her heel until she’s the only one with power left.

This GIF continues to be the only one I need.

(No, the fact that it comes from a cop show and I’m using it for such an anti-law, anti-establishment story/fandom isn’t lost on me.)

(Also, if anyone is curious, this is why I love Ozpin. Out of everyone in this cast, HE has suffered the most, tenfold, and yet he still chooses to be kinder to those than they’ve been to him.)

Anyway, I should really stick to the plot lol. Cinder realizes that her waking up means that they’ve lost, which I still think is BS. Cinder needed a win to come across as a formidable villain again and the likes of Neo, Emerald, and a Maiden with years of practice under her belt should have wiped the floor with a scientist, retirement grandma, and a girl who got the powers an hour ago. But I again digress.

Mercury reveals that he will no longer be following Cinder’s orders because Salem has a special job for him. They’ve all been told to meet on the bridge.

Then we cut to Ozpin and Oscar.

My poor boy is a mess and Ozpin is in the process of begging Oscar to take a “break.” “I would like to express again that this is my burden to bear, not yours.” Take note, fandom. In a few moments Hazel will accuse Ozpin of being a “coward” because “All this time, it could have been you, but you let him suffer.” I just know a bunch of people will be going, “Yeah! Ozpin just let a kid get tortured instead of him. WTF??” Okay 1. We should always be suspicious of agreeing with the takes villains have and 2. Oscar just refused to let Ozpin do that. It is—again—his choice because he thinks that Hazel is “holding back” with him. Oscar is being a brave and logical dude trying to make the best of this situation for both of them. Don’t take that away from him just to make Ozpin look bad. What would we even want him to do? Take control back? The fandom has been yelling at Ozpin for that since Volume 5.

So they’re going back and forth when Oscar suddenly announces that they “can’t leave yet. This is our chance.”

Ozpin even says he thinks Oscar must have taken one too many hits because… yeah. What? Long story short, Oscar recognizes that they’ll never be this close to Salem’s subordinates again and that they should try to undermine her from the inside out, just like she’s done with the world since she knows she can’t take on everyone at once. I love Oscar taking charge here, I love them speaking in unison, I even love the hope of achieving something epic while in captivity despite my own belief that Oscar should break and reveal the Lamp’s password. What I don’t love is:

Another messy, unexpected belief that Salem made her choices because she “knows” she can’t win any other way. Except that—like Ruby’s line in the recording—Salem’s current attack blows that idea out of the water. She IS taking on the whole world. Granted, Ozpin and Oscar presumably don’t know that the whole world literally knows of her existence now, or that Salem was smiling about it, but they do know that she’s attacking Atlas head on. What else is that except a declaration of war with all of Remnant?

The idea of undermining Salem from the inside via Hazel. For anyone who reads my other metas, I just said that this idea wouldn’t work because Emerald isn’t the one torturing him, the one character who has consistently demonstrated hesitation (or, now, Neo). Hazel despises Ozpin so much that he would never listen to him. He despises him so much he doesn’t even see Oscar as his own person… at least he didn’t before. That’s been retconned now with Hazel going “easy” Oscar and having an actual conversation with Ozpin. Whereas before, he was slamming Oscar into walls and screaming about how he’s going to kill the “murderer” of his sister. They basically softened his character to make this plan possible.

The fact that this scene came about without Oscar and Ozpin ever getting to reconcile their problems. Last we saw them, Oscar was saying how he hated that Ozpin came back and refusing to acknowledge their merge. Now, they’re working together like they’ve always been solid allies. I get that the danger they’re in helps to put it all into perspective, but why can’t we get a few lines of them hashing this out? Or at least putting things aside until they’re out of Salem’s clutches? If you don’t need to re-write Hazel’s character with “he’s going easy on me” lines, you can use that space to deal with the conflict we’ve already established. Especially given the strange choice to have Oscar refuse to give up control and be the one coming up with this plan... but then Ozpin does take control and (maybe, see below) enacts it? I feel like we’ve missed huge chunks of this story. As it is, I wonder if RWBY will bother coming back to this. The questions of if/how Oscar will accept Ozpin and if/how he’ll reveal this secret to the group feels like they’re being swept under the rug and it will likely go unnoticed by a lot of viewers simply due to how intense the kidnapping plot is.

So things are a little messy, but otherwise enjoyable, and they’re about to get downright confusing. For me, anyway. See, Hazel reveals that he follows Salem because she can’t be beaten (cue my continued worry about Ruby telling the whole WORLD). She “can’t be stopped. She’s a force of nature,” and Ozpin is fighting a “cause with no victory, no end.” He yells back that “Someone has to try!”—bless this man—and then looks down at the ground going, “Salem can be fought. Unless… she brings the Relics together, if that happens…” and mentions summoning the Gods.

So here’s my confusion. The scene makes it feel like Ozpin is planting some sort of seed in Hazel’s head. He and Oscar JUST got done agreeing to try and undermine her from the inside out, then we get this line that feels like him “accidentally” dropping a secret that will turn Hazel against her. Except… Ozpin doesn’t lie here? The line isn’t useful to them as far as I can tell. They are screwed if Salem gets the Relics. …Right? Because if not, why the hell have the heroes been working so hard to keep them out of her hands? So I can’t decide if:

A) This scene is just written badly and none of this is part of the plan to undermine Salem.

B) Ozpin is going, “NO. Don’t collect the RELICS. That would be the WORST THING EVER /s” in an attempt to trick Hazel into doing it anyway and this is somehow supposed to hurt Salem, despite being presented since Volume 5 as the worst outcome for our heroes?

C) Ozpin specifically wants Salem to make the mistake of summoning the Gods because he thinks he’s completed his task? Or something? But what in the world would make him think that—especially without seeing Ruby’s message (not to mention the lack of unity that mess should cause)—or what makes him think the Gods would just destroy Salem regardless of what he’s achieved? If summoning the Gods was ever a defeat Salem option, why hasn’t he done it before?

I’m leaning towards A just because it makes the most sense by far, but that would also mean we had Ozpin and Oscar decide on this plan, have a chance to start this plan… and then didn’t actually do anything. Yelling at Hazel for following Salem isn’t a new strategy, they were doing that before, so what’s new? Or has the new strategy not been revealed yet? Idk, as happy as I am to see them being BAMF together, I’m slightly unsure about how it all hangs together. I’d much rather have an internally consistent and clear outcome that’s predictable (Oscar breaks or just holds out until rescue) rather than what appears like a super cool, badass, unexpected plot on the surface… but crumbles once you poke at the foundation a bit.

So whether Oscar and Ozpin started this plan or not, they’re dragged into the throne room where they’re forced to kneel before Salem. Yikes. She sits on her throne with the Hound, who I’m only now realizing could be read as a messed up Toto

We learn that Tyrian heard from Watts about his incarceration and hacking Penny. What? Okay, I took the time to go back through “Amity” just to find this screenshot.

That’s not a working Scroll! Idk what I thought Watts might do with it at the end of last week, but it wasn’t send a full, uninterrupted message to Salem that updates her on everything that’s gone down in Atlas. This thing is toast! Moments like this make me question how much communication there really is between the writers and the animators, despite last Volume’s disaster with Oscar telegraphing his punch like whoa. Are we still getting that level of miscommunication?

Salem then punishes Cinder for disobeying her by hurting her grimm arm. See, this here (for me, anyway) is the mark of a newbie writer. When the moment first started I went, “Oh nice. Just like the shock collar!” Then the scene made that abundantly clear by cutting to flashbacks of Cinder in her collar. That’s too heavy-handed. We already got the parallel, but then the show went, “Do you get it??” It shows that the writers are too scared that the viewers won’t get it, that their nuance will be lost, so they scramble to make it as obvious as possible, rather than trusting in their own writing.

And if you’re like, “So you want RWBY to be more clear and also… less clear?” the answer is, sadly, yes lol. The things that are already confusing due to retconning and inconsistent themes need to be made explicit, whereas the details that are already strong don’t need an in-your-face, “Okay, but did you really get the parallel here? We’re just making sure.” It’s like launching into explaining why a joke is funny when it’s already landed vs. telling a nonsensical joke and then waiting for the laugh that will never come. RWBY struggles in both areas.

Salem delves into this speech about how this is actually all her fault and she should let Cinder spread her wings or something. AKA, go free Watts and track down Penny. Then you can have your precious Maiden powers.

There’s a massive earthquake across Mantle and we watch a + medical symbol go out. Again, heavy-handed. We don’t need that in order to understand that the whole city shaking while the grimm look happily up to the sky is a bad thing.

We cut to Winter listening to the Ace Ops complain about Penny. She tells them to act like the elite they are, likely because she hates how they refer to Penny as “junk.” Still being set up to betray Ironwood, I bet. During this scene we learn that they have “confirmed visual of her leaving Amity. She appeared to be malfunctioning.” So Penny is alive? Also, they have eyes on Amity Tower and were able to see Penny leaving, but didn’t see any of our trio coming to launch it in the first place? Did Ironwood want it to launch? Did they see Cinder? I just don’t know.

Before they can get there though a message from Jaune comes through. Serious kudos to Team JNY for asking that “anyone” respond/taking the personal risk of calling for help in the first place. They’re finally putting—as Harriet says—they’re own selfishness aside in favor of the greater good. Yang obviously hates that it’s “you guys” they ended up with, but she’s not outright attacking the Ace Ops or anything. I’m like,

Excellent job, Yang.

Jaune is a little harsh in his panic. He said in his message that a “large mass of grimm” is heading towards Mantle and then when Harriet leads with asking about Penny, wants to know what’s wrong with her. Why are you asking about Penny when lives are in danger and “it’s” (the grimm) are “right there”? Except he, uh… points at nothing. There’s the chasm with (I presume) the weird grimm goo down it? Not sure based on the shot, but the Ace Ops expected a “mass of grimm” and then land to see no grimm anywhere nearby. So yeah, they’re more focused on the missing Maiden than the seemingly imaginary enemy Jaune is freaking out about.

They only get on board when the river launches itself at Atlas.

So the goo is, like, sentient before it becomes individual grimm? Or Salem is controlling it from her whale? Either way it’s BAD.

I want to briefly gripe about how the hell everyone is watching this. What, is there a camera conveniently trained on this one random part of Atlas’ underside and everyone’s scrolls tuned into that the second the attack started? It seems far-fetched, to put it mildly. In RWBY’s favor though, I want to acknowledge that we finally have appropriate expressions for the situation! This is good!!

I’m going to level with you all. My notifications have known no peace since I made the mistake of criticizing the adored trio that is Ruby, Weiss, and Blake. I thought supporting Ironwood would get me heat. Nope. Not supporting the main girls is what did it and honestly? I shouldn’t have been surprised. Last week I pointed out that having them smile and, in Ruby’s case, coo during a moment of horror is not good animation and implies some pretty uncomfortable things about their overall sympathy level. The image in question:

It doesn’t set a good tone, especially when we add in what we’ve gotten for Ruby’s group across the rest of this volume. The counters of, “They need and deserve a break. Why won’t you let them be happy?” fall flat when we ignore that this group has been animated as consistently goofing off post-premiere. Sneaking into the guarded military base of a former friend? Tube shenanigans! Need to find your way around? Funny Penny moment! Semblance reveal? Cutesy chibi explanation! Need to do more sneaking? Silly coffee plan! Nora gets electrocuted? Joke about how awesome that was! Even Wiess telling Whitley to go to his room reads as funny to the audience.

Ruby in particular has been a problem, given that she’s our main character and the others’ leader. We take our emotional cues primarily from her. Alongside being a part of all these fun and games, her animation during more serious moments has been less than stellar. This is Penny when Nora goes down.

This is Ruby, Weiss, and Blake. No worry, just focused on the fight.

This is Penny when the fight is over.

This is Ruby, Weiss, and Blake. No worry, just chatting about suspicious activity.

This is Penny in the airship, worrying about Nora and the situation they’re in. This is also Ruby in the airship, apparently not worried at all.

This is Ruby when she learns her uncle is in jail. Is there shock? Fear? Horror that he might be in serious trouble? No, she just maintains the same emotion she had before: fury at Harriet.

So when we reach them watching the recording and they look like this:

No, I’m not convinced that this trio is taking the situation seriously, or that they really care about the people involved. I know they’re supposed to care, they all obviously care from a meta perspective, but the “obviousness” of that only exists in our personal understanding of the characters if we don’t see it on screen. I completely believe that Penny is worried about Nora because she’s animated expressing that worry. I completely believe that JRY are in the middle of a warzone because they’re (mostly) animated as fearful and angry. The rest of Ruby’s team has a scared line from Blake and Weiss holding Nora’s hand, whereas the majority of the emotion across this adventure has been indifference or playfulness. That’s a problem given how horrible the events of this Volume have been, most of which the group is aware of.

All of which is an incredibly long-winded way of saying that this

finally feels appropriate. Well done, RWBY.

Alright, this recap is already over 7k long so I want to return to our plot with the summarized: IRONWOOD WAS RIGHT. He said they couldn’t withstand a head on attack by Salem and he was right. It literally took seconds for her grimm to burrow into Atlas, knock out a tower, and disable the shield. Everyone still claiming that leaving is useless because it’s oh so obvious Salem’s grimm could fly however high it wants (when did we learn that?) are ignoring that leaving was at least a plan with some kind of hope attached to it. And, given her focus on the Staff, may have saved Mantle by drawing Salem’s attention away from the city. The point is we don’t know. All we do know is that Ironwood tried to do something in the face of hopeless odds, Ruby’s team stopped him, and now look, everything is awful. No one could have possibly seen that coming.

Salem: “It’s time.”

I’m very pleased that Salem is finally using the tools at her disposal. Upon reflection, I still don’t buy why she had to wait. “Well, she was waiting for the grimm goo.” She couldn’t have used flying grimm to take out the tower? Take a burrowing grimm and give it wings? She couldn’t have used the goo that was apparently inside her whale the whole time?

It’s all very convenient. In the sense that we’re drawing out the volume by having the villain inexplicably hang back, despite not having a good reason to. In the sense that—unless Ruby’s message comes back to bite her—the villain’s passivity also conveniently let the heroes accomplish the one goal they were desperate to achieve. All of that’s still not good, but at least the Volume seems to be moving out of the “not good” category and into the “slightly better” territory.

Although, as I just acknowledged to a friend, RWBY seems to alternate for me. Every time I have an episode where I think, “Okay, there are still massive problems here, but I can see a glimmer of hope” the next episode is inevitably the pits.

Still, grabbing onto that hope with both hands: Atlas should be decimated, folks! Grimm are swarming, our idiot heroes herded everyone directly under the city, the world should be panicking, and the cold should still be killing people if the story remembers that it exists. At this point my only question is wtf our heroes are supposed to do next, but regardless of what the plot gives us, it’s going to be wild. You all know what’s coming. Next week is our final episode before a two month hiatus, which means we’re going to witness all kinds of awful and then end on a six week cliffhanger. It’s inevitable, so best to emotionally prep for that now lol.

I don’t believe we have any Bingo updates, with the exception of edging towards a few: “Winter betrays Ironwood,” “Army of grimm conveniently doesn’t kill any civilians,” “Atlas somehow survives,” and “Ironwood dies” being the most notable. We’ll have to see what, if anything, gets checked off next Saturday.

As always, thank you so much for reading (I feel like I don’t say that enough :D) and I’ll see you next week! 💜

[Ko-Fi]

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #rwby recaps #rwby midnight #mymetas

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hopeaterart · 3 years

Text

Evil Ozpin AU: Dinner with a bird

Context: Ozpin and Salem more or less swap place, it's a bit complicated. This fic is here to explain how it happened by way of Ozpin monologuing to a (still on Salem's side at the time) Qrow. There's some hints of Ozqrow in there. Like, you're definitely supposed get Vibes. For those unaware: here's my Evil/Swap!Ozpin.

"So... You're Salem's latest pawn." Qrow scowled, eyes narrowing at the monster sitting from across him. How he'd ended up sitting at the same table as Ozpin, also widely known as 'the Wizard', was a blur in his memory, and granted, not that great a story.

Went on a mission for Salem to find his base of operation, with the only info being that it was somewhere in the forests of Sanus. Had to go alone because Tai and Raven had their hands full with Yang and a pregnant Summer. Got caught by Ozpin's latest apprentice- a blond woman about his age with the ironic name of 'Goodwitch'. Letting himself be captured in order to get taken to Ozpin.

One trip to an old monastery latter, he was now separated from Harbringer, had Aura-suppressing manacles on his wrists (thankfully with no chains), and was sitting in front of the Wizard himself. They were on some kind of balcony with only a small table between themselves, and there was a plate on the table with bread on it that neither were touching.

"And you're the guy who's trying to burn down Remnant." He bit back. Ozpin sighed, silver eyelashes fluttering as he narrowed his eyes.

"Is that what my traitorous ex-wife told you?" Ozpin asks, smiling like a predator about to eat it's prey when Qrow's eyes widened in confusion. "I mean- she's not wrong, but Salem isn't exactly the hero of our tale."

"Wh- your ex-wife!?" Qrow exclaimed, before gritting his teeth. "You're lying." He accused Ozpin, who didn't even flinch at the accusation.

"So she didn't tell you." He observed. "Oh, what am I talking about? Of course she'd keep that hidden, that self-righteous hag." Ozpin hissed as he took one of the small bread. "Doesn't want to acknowledge me being a thing is her fault, after all." He opened his mouth, momentarily exposing too-sharp canines as he bit the bread in half. He stared in Qrow's eyes as he chewed, before swallowing. "It's garlic bread. An entrée before the main dish, if you will. I'm not going to poison you, erm... Qrow Branwen, is it?"

Qrow grit his teeth. "And I should believe you, because?"

"Sheer pragmatism on my part, really. We're eating the same food, and I am not interested in poisoning myself." Ozpin explained, shrugging as he finished eating the bread he had in hand. "'Poison damage' is not really the kind of pain I like."

Qrow raised an eyebrow at that. He'd heard stories of Ozpin letting anything and everything hurt him with ecstasy written all over his face, but hearing what seemed like confirmation was a bit... much. "Uh... so what's the deal? Why are you having me eat here with you instead of- oh, I dunno, locking me in some kind of torture dungeon?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, pretty bird?" Qrow averts his eyes at that, his gaze landing on the plate of bread as his cheeks warm up. He hesitantly took one of the bread, shoving it in his mouth and chewing quickly.

He took another one, eating slower and actually savoring it this time as Ozpin turns to look at the scenery. The forest stretches beyond the horizon, any traces of Grimm hidden from sight. Qrow's not fooled, he knows the monastery probably hides a few nasty surprises. The marble-skinned weirdo in front of him is proof enough.

Credit where credit is due, whoever cooked this is a damn good cook. "Who made this?" He asks as he takes another bread. "Didn't expect you to have a five-star chief."

It was Ozpin's turn to be caught off-guard. "I'm... glad you like my cooking." What. Qrow stared at his third half-eaten bread. "Oh, don't be a baby. I have literal centuries of experience behind me, and my cycle of immortality is different from Salem's. Since I need sustenance, might as well be good at it."

"Still not entirely convinced you're not poisoning me." Qrow noted.

Ozpin groaned in exasperation. "If I wanted to kill you, there's a myriad of ways that would be easier and less-headache inducing than this." Ozpin snapped as he got up and started walking away. Qrow turned to look at him as he went behind his chair, before going rigid as cold fingers dug into his shoulders. "Stay there. I'm getting the side and main courses."

Ozpin left the balcony in a puff of smoke, and Qrow let out a breath he didn't knew he was holding. He reached inside his jacket, relieved to see his Scroll was still there. Only for his mood to immediately crash when he realized that this part of Vale didn't get reception.

"Trying to call for help, are you?" Qrow whirled around, scowling when he saw Goodwitch. "I'm telling you now, it's not gonna work. Ozpin has taken precautions."

"What, precautions against modern tech!?" Qrow snapped, getting up as his chair rattled. He didn't care if Goodwitch had one of the most powerful Semblances he'd ever seen while he couldn't even activate his Aura right now. He brought misfortune wherever he went, made sense his shit Semblance would turn against him one day. "Does the guy think we still live in the Dark Ages?"

Goodwitch bristled. "Why, you insufferable- Ozpin is trying to offer you a chance to redeem yourself from working with Salem, and you're squandering it for-"

"Glynda." Both stilled as Ozpin came into view. There was a disappointed frown on his face. "That's no way to treat guests."

"But sir-"

"No buts, young lady." Ozpin reprimanded, waving his fingers as floating plates, glasses and a bottle of something came into view. "Help me with putting on the table, will you?" He asked Glynda, who nodded and took the two plates with food on them to put on the table. "Sit back down, Qrow."

"Don't call me that." The huntsman hissed even as he sat back down. He glared at his plate, which had fish and some kind of salad and... something else in it. He raised his head slightly as the bottle landed on the table, Ozpin dismissing Glynda with a 'thank you' before sitting back down. He pointed at the weird stuff. "What is that?"

"Oysters." Ozpin told him. "I opened them earlier, they're all good. Do you know how to eat them?" Qrow shook his head. "Alright, so first you need to loosen them up..." Qrow followed Ozpin's instructions, pulling a face after eating his first one. Ozpin frowned. "Don't like it?"

"Texture's weird." Ozpin hummed, before taking the bottle and popping the cork off and pouring Qrow a glass.

"It's champagne. Laurent-Poirier. Goes well with oysters, use it to wash them down." Qrow nodded, taking the flute and taking a small sip. "Not a fan of alcohol?"

"Opposite, actually." He started, remembering how his father got after too many bears. "Runs in the family." Ozpin thankfully didn't push the subject, simply turning toward his own plate and taking a bite of his salad.

The two ate in silence for a while. Ozpin opened his mouth again as Qrow tried his second oyster. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Does it matter if I say no?"

"No, but you don't have to answer it." Qrow nodded. "How did you end up working for Salem? I thought the Branwen were a bandit tribe from Mistral?"

Qrow hissed in between his teeth. "I... me and Raven, we... Our parents, they- urgh. Look, all that matters is: we're not going back, and we're never going back."

"Raven..." Ozpin seemed deep in thoughts, as if he was trying to remember something. "That's your sister, right?"

"Yeah." Something occurred to Qrow. "Say, the whole reincarnating wizard thing. You used to be, like, a regular, not-Grimm person, right?"

"That's one way of putting it, but yes." Ozpin answered. "I used to be mortal."

"Did you have siblings? Before the whole..." Qrow made a vague gesture in the other's general direction. Ozpin stilled at that, a faraway look on his face.

"No, none by blood. I grew up in the mountains with only my parents before obtaining my powers." He answered. "I... did have someone I considered my sister, but I was already well into becoming what I am now when I met her." The look on Ozpin's face was absolutely miserable. "Salem killing her pushed me over the edge."

"... Ah." Qrow took a sip of his champagne. "That sucks. Sorry for your loss."

Ozpin waved a hand. "I- it's fine. You're not the one who blasted her with magic for the crime of trying to help me stay me." He quickly ate an oyster, seemingly cheering up. "Anyway, my turn to ask you a question!"

Qrow snorted despite himself. "What is this, 21 questions?"

"My crush is no one, if you're wondering." Ozpin joked, before straightening in his chair. "What did Salem tell you about me?"

Qrow shrugged as he cut some of his fish. "You want to burn down Remnant. You can do magic. Whoever you reincarnate in dies the moment you come into the picture. You started the whole thing with Salem. And she doesn't know how to stop your cycle."

Ozpin hummed. "I see. Your turn."

"How... much of what I told you do you agree with?" Between the ex-wife comment and the very real grief he had when talking about his sister, it was clear had a different version of the events. Besides, the monster Salem had described to him wouldn't simply sit him down to talk.

Ozpin hummed, a piece of fish on his fork as he waved it in the air. "I do want to do some burning, but it's more 'everything Salem ever worked for' than Remnant. Come on, Qrow, I live here. And I'm stuck here." He ate his fish. "If I really wanted to destroy Remnant, I'd simply use the Relics."

He hummed. "Yeah, that's fair- wait. You know where the Relics are!?" The amount of people that were on wild goose chases to find them... And this whole time, Salem's sworn enemy could get to them the moment he decided to stop playing around.

"Of course I know where they are. I'm the one who hid them in the first place." Ozpin noted. "Can't have Salem blowing up my body with the Sword again... urgh, retrieving it and the Lamp was such a pain!" Qrow numbly nodded. "Anyway, you wanted to know about my magic?"

"Uh-" Ozpin snapped his fingers, whisps of green and gold rising from them as pitch black eyes burst into green flames. Like a Maiden's. "Oh shit!"

Ozpin smiled as the magic faded, Qrow numbly realizing there were brown irises somewhere in those pools of tar. "I can. And unlike Salem, I'm willing to share."

"You- you're the guy who created the Maidens!?" The fairytale explaining their origin spoke of an old, cruel magician, who took four sisters under his wing and taught them how to use magic.

"Ah, yes." Ozpin spoke with fondness. "The first Maidens. They reminded me of the first daughters I had, and they were so very loyal to me... loyalty deserves to be rewarded, don't you think?"

Qrow frowned. "Is that why they keep turning against Salem when she finds them first? Something to do with your magic?"

"What- no!" Ozpin exclaimed, clearly offended. He then frowned in confusion. "I think. If it is a thing, then it wasn't intentional." A pause as Ozpin downs his flute, before pouring himself more champagne. "Anyway, my reincarnations..."

Qrow raised an eyebrow as Ozpin downed more champagne. "Sensitive point?"

"More angry about Salem being right on this one. Or..." He chuckled. "Was right. I proved her wrong, in this life. Ozma isn't in control anymore."

"There's literally nothing in what you just said that's reassuring." Qrow noted, Ozpin smiling at him as he finished his salad. "Who's Ozma?"

"The name of the first soul in the cycle." Ozpin told him. "He used to absorb whoever he reincarnated in into himself the moment he was in their bodies, but his soul weakened over time, and it took more and more time and efforts to absorb them. By the time he reached me, it him almost twenty years for our souls to fuse, and then..."

"... you're the one who absorbed him." Qrow finished. He frowned. If Ozma's soul was driven by anger at being betrayed by the woman he loved, then... "Holy shit, what did Salem do for you to hate her that much!?"

"What would you do," Ozpin started. "If you wanted to live, but someone wanted you dead? Because you know of something you couldn't care less about that could destroy her life? What would you think if someone thought of you as nothing less than the latest stain on her self-inflated ego? Proof that she's just human, if not worse than that?"

Qrow frowned at that. Was that how Ozpin saw the conflict? But nevertheless, he knew the answer to that question. It wasn't one he was happy with, but... "I'd kill her before she killed me."

"Good answer. And the answer to who started our conflict: as far as I'm concerned, it's all. Her. Fault." The two finished their plates in silence after that, Ozpin first and spending the next few minutes watching Qrow.

They stared at each other for a while. "Uh. All that fancy stuff, and no dessert?" Qrow joked. The tiniest bit of relief struck him as the corners of Ozpin's eyes crinkled.

"Now, you're speaking my language!" The pale-skinned man clapped his hand, and Qrow nearly jumped out of his skin when a Grimm came out of the shadows.

It was unlike any Qrow had seen before. A glossy sphere with bone shards on it's lower half, floating with an array of thin tentacles trailing under it. There was an ominous light coming from into the sphere, even if it wasn't really visible in this light.

It was also green instead of red, which meant Ozpin had created the fucking thing. Black smoke rose up from under the plates at a wave of the Wizard's hands, handing them to the Grimm. "Bring these to the kitchen, and bring back the dessert. It's on the pastry cart." The Grimm simply took the pile of plates and floated back in the darkness of the inside.

Qrow inhaled sharply. "What the fuck was that-"

"Seer Grimm. I've put enchantments all over the place so we don't end up getting detected by the CCT, but I need a way to communicate with my followers when they're away." Ozpin explained with a shrug of his shoulders as he poured himself yet another glass of champagne. Qrow stared at him. "Oh, don't look at me like that. I'm pretty sure most of my bodily fluids have been replaced by Grimm sludge, it takes an insane amount of alcohol for me to get drunk."

"Yikes." That word alone could describe at least half of what Qrow had learned about Ozpin today.

"Want a refill?" Qrow looked at what Ozpin was pointing at. His own flute, now empty. He nodded, letting the wizard pour him a second glass. Ozpin got up from the table after that, his glass in hand as he leaned on the balcony, back to the Huntsman. "Anyway, there's still one part of your question I haven't answered yet."

Qrow frowned, before remembering. "Is there a way to stop your cycle of reincarnation?"

If he had seen the manic smile on Ozpin's face, Qrow would've been scared for life. "Nope~. There was, but Salem would've had to die, and she was unwilling to. And now, the only way to get rid of me has been made useless."

"What do you mean by that...?"

Before Qrow could get his answer, the Seer Grimm was back, pushing a tray with a plate that had a mountain of what looked like chocolate truffles on it. Ozpin turned around, snapping his fingers as he did so. The Seer rotated, floating toward Ozpin as the wizard reached a hand out, caressing the smooth surface. He looked at the Grimm warmly, before turning those same eyes on Qrow, making something in his chest flutter. "Slit my throat open."

One of the Grimm's tentacle morphed into a blade, and faster than Qrow could see, Ozpin's throat was opened with a gush of tar-like blood. Ozpin gurgled, more of the black sludge coming out of his mouth as he took a few steps back, before falling backwards over the edge of the balcony. Qrow's better nature took the better of him as he rushed out of his chair, rushing to try and catch the wizard. "OZPIN!"

... Only for the man to raise into the air, eyes ablaze as a gentle breeze carried him. Ozpin laughed awkwardly as the other man stared at him in shock. "Were you scared for me?" Qrow took a step back as what he realized was a nothing less than a living god touched down on the balustrade. "Don't worry, there's no need to! I know it's always a bit scary when I take risks like that, but I assure you: there's no need to, since I-"

"Can't die." Qrow finished, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. "You can't die."

Ozpin frowned sympathetically at him as he sat down on the balustrade, looking up at Qrow. "She didn't tell you, did she?"

His answer came in the way Qrow crumpled to the ground, breathing harshly as if he was trying to refrain himself from crying. "No one wanted me-" He started in between gasps, Ozpin frowning as he came to kneel down next to him. "I gave my life to her because she gave me a place where- where I belonged-" He continued, letting the other man manhandle him into a hug. "I thought I was finally- finally-"

"Doing some good?" Ozpin finished for him. That opened the floodgates, Qrow burying his face in Ozpin's chest as he sobbed. Ozpin gently carded a hand through his hair, resting is lips on the top of his head. "You poor thing..." He muttered. "I'm afraid meeting Salem was the worst luck of your life."

Qrow continued crying, not noticing Ozpin manhandling him further until he was sitting in Ozpin's former chair. The wizard had his back turned to him, taking the plate with the truffles. "What are you...?"

Ozpin turned toward him, a kind smile on his face. "After everything you learned today, you must be exhausted. I just want to make you feel a bit better, is all." He came to sit on the table, plate next to him. He picked the truffle at the top, bringing it to Qrow's mouth. "Open."

Qrow nodded, opening his mouth and letting Ozpin handfeed him sweets, the wizard occasionally cradling his face or petting his hair. Ozpin smiled, picking up Qrow's discarded glass of champagne and sipping on it as the other leaned in his hand.

I win this time, dear~

#writing #my writing #ozpin #rwby ozpin #professor ozpin #qrow branwen #rwby qrow #evil ozpin #evil ozpin au #alcohol #tw blood #food #glynda goodwitch #rwby glynda #rwby au #rwby

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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years

Text

νοσταλγία (Chapter 3)

(Gif credit to @whenimaunicorn)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader (eventual)

Summary: This is a retelling/romantization of the Greek myth of Persephone’s abduction with Ivar as Hades and you as Persephone. The Reader character is a Byzantine woman, follower of the Greek Pantheon/Religion, and a devoted follower of Persephone. This takes place after 5A, but the universe of this is a little changed in relation with the series, of course. Thank you for giving it a chance, hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: The usual :)

A/N: Words cannot express how much it means to hear back and to know people actually like this mess I’m writing. Thank you so so so much! I hope you all enjoy, and again, thank you.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius (Thank you so fucking much for your support and your comments btw, it means the world. You’re amazing!)

“So, Priestess.” You hear behind you, jumping back with a yelp and almost dropping the scroll you held in your hands.

You turn around to find the Viking King standing by your doorway, leaning heavily on his crutch and looking at you with a small smug smile on his face.

“A gentleman would knock.” You say around a small smile of your own, and leave the rolled-up map on a nearby end table before motioning for a chair and sitting in one nearby. It shouldn’t be so easy, so familiar, letting him into your space.

“You should know better.”

“I didn’t expect to see you again.” You confess without hesitation, looking into his pale eyes that reflect the stubborn light of the candles in the room around you.

“I have nothing but my brother and Christians to talk to in this city,” He dismisses easily, a gesture of his hand as he takes a seat near you. Your eyes, curious, follow the agile movements of his left hand as he maneuvers the crutch on his side to rest nearby. “You are far better company.”

“Thank you, I think,” You say, biting your lip to keep your stupid mouth from smiling and the foolish bashfulness from showing on your expression. Apparently, it does regardless, judging by the pleased look on the Viking’s face. Clearing your throat, you steal a glance to the closed door and state, “You do know you are scandalizing half a city right now, don’t you?”

“I am?” Based on his smug look, he knows, but you speak anyways.

“I am already called a witch,” You explain, “Do you know what it will do to my reputation if they are to see a Viking enter my home?”

“And you care for your reputation?”

“Any lady would care about her reputation!” You pretend to be scandalized, before rolling your eyes at yourself. You delight yourself in the small huff that leaves the man’s lips, what could be a laugh if given just enough room to breathe.

“The Saxons,” He starts, leaning the side of his body on the table, “You said they call you a witch.”

“A woman that worships the Gods of the Dead is usually labeled such a thing,” You offer with a small shrug. After a breath of hesitation, you dare tease, “Are you one to believe Stithulf’s tales that I can bewitch men to their deaths? Blind them and have them follow my every whim?”

He keeps pale eyes on you, studying you quietly for a few moments before rescinding, closing his eyes in a slow blink and murmuring,

"Not through magic,” Before you have a chance to ask what he means by that, he motions for a place behind you and asks, “What is that?”

You twist on your seat to where he points and see he means the scroll you…borrowed from Leofric. Stretching on your seat, you grab onto the old paper and open it on the table.

The colors are faded, and to what you understand is not very accurate, but you have been growing restless here and you wanted to at least learn something other than defeat here.

“What do you need a map for?” The Viking frowns, rough fingers placed over the edges of the map you cannot hold and helping you smooth it over the table.

You know if he were to think of you as a Greek Anassa before anything else, he would be on his guard about you by now, because after all, it is a foreign leader looking to know the outline of his homeland. But he isn’t.

Because that’s what you agreed upon, right? No names and no identities past this door, no future or present outside of this disgusting little hut. But your people need to leave this village, they need to be away from Stithulf’s ambitious hands, from Leofric’s egotistical God.

Stealing a hand back to put a lock of hair behind your ear, you offer, “Knowing where on this earth the Gods have taken us?” You grimace at your own words. As if the Gods would want this. Regardless, you swallow past the bitterness of the soft lie and continue explaining, “I…don’t know where I am. I mean, I know there’s no point in knowing, but I don’t…”

He silences you with a point of his finger, eyes inquisitive and always demanding when they look over your face but still quiet, offering you the location and name of the city with a point of his finger.

Your eyes look over the seas and rivers drawn there, and even if it all feels so fucking foreign and strange and unforgiving, at least knowing where in this world the last of the Attics have perished, what hills and what rivers bury their unfortunate bodies; brings you a little peace.

For a moment there’s a flare of a thought, an errant idea, of how maybe, just maybe, this strange man turned King, in all his faults and fame; could be easily played with. You lured a Greek Strategus into laying an army at your feet, surely you could get something out of the Viking before your life reached its untimely end.

The few Attics that have survived the hell of these last weeks could benefit from whatever aid you can get the King to-…

No.

You shake those thoughts off quickly enough. You have regretted your lies before, you have promise to be honest and be true because you cannot stomach the mere possibility that one day you will look at your reflection and not recognize who you are past all the lies and the masks.

So, you look into the Varangian’s pale blue eyes, and offer sincerely, “Thank you.”

He ignores your words, you don’t know whether because he has no interest in your gratitude or because he does not know how to answer to it.

Instead, he asks, “How do you know how to read a map?”

“You ask me that and not how I speak your language? Or know of your Gods?” You reply, eyebrows raised. The Viking shrugs, conceding, but his eyes remain with the same inquisitive glint, demanding his answers. With a sigh, you offer, “There’s…Varangians where I am from. When my mother was killed, what you call a shieldmaiden took me in and raised me as her own.”

“What was her name?”

“Is,” You correct with a small frown, “Sieghild is very much alive.”

“Would I know of her?” He asks, and you narrow your eyes at him. The Viking explains, “A shieldmaiden that lived all the way in the Mediterranean, surely she has her own share of fame.”

“That’s her story to tell, not mine.”

And the candles burn on, and you two continue talking about whatever comes to mind. You don’t ask about what happens in this city, he doesn’t ask -much- about what brought you and your people here. He doesn’t ask your name again, and you make a point of avoiding saying his.

Somehow, you made the mistake of telling him about Keres, and their fame as angels of violent deaths that scour the battlefields; and now the Viking won’t stop insisting that they are just Valkyries with different names.

“But you know of the Valkyries.” He insists, a frown in his brow and his nose.

“I do.”

“Then why do you call them with a different name?”

“Keres are not Valkyries.”

“They sound very alike, Priestess,” His mouth curves downwards in an exaggerated gesture and he shrugs his shoulders. “It sounds to me that you Greeks just like changing the names of things.”

Even if you should be offended all you do is smile, “What?”

“Barangoi,” He offers, a tilt of his head. “You could just say Viking.”

“And you could just say Keres instead of Valkyries.”

“Ah!” He points a finger at you, “So you admit they are one and the same.”

“I don’t follow your Gods, Barangoi,” You remind him, but he just tilts his head to the side and looks away. Before you can help yourself, you point out, “Your Greek is horrible, by the way.”

“Well, I haven’t had time to find a teacher.”

____

“I will leave this sad excuse for a city, just for a few days,” Sieghild promises that night, her eyes on the fire but you can see her soul reaching for her shield.

“Do you think it is safe?”

“Who should I fear? The few Saxons smart enough to train like Arabs? The last remnants of the once mighty Great Heathen Army?” She scoffs, her words intending to dismiss your fear even if she has just listed the reasons you worry for her life when she leaves.

“Neither would have any qualms about killing you.” You point out dryly.

The shieldmaiden rolls her shoulders, something akin to bloodthirst in her smile, “Let them try.”

“And I’m the foolish one.” You mutter around a roll of your eyes.

The woman chuckles quietly, “I told you I have some questions I need answered. You are not the only one with ties to the Gods, little one.”

“Never said that I was. Based on your tales, the sons of one of the most famous Völvas are at the gates, mother.” You quip dryly, reaching for the goblet of water and wishing you could call upon the Christian God and turn it into wine.

“The gates, little one?” Sieghild muses, and you frown at her in confusion over the rim of your cup. With a shrug, she explains, “I have seen a son of Aslaug going in and out of your little hut multiple times now.”

Shit. You cough abruptly when the water goes the wrong way, but play it off and look again at the flames.

“I have no idea who you are talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” She teases, a strange weight in her voice. She stands up, reaching for her trusted shield and putting it at her back as she grabs one of the fur cloaks by you. You keep your eyes ahead, but feel her presence at your back, and hear her lighthearted voice, “Sometimes, I sit by myself and think how your mother must be screaming her head off at me from her Elysium.”

You laugh, and it feels light and free, craning your head back to look at the shieldmaiden. She places a heavy hand on your hair, rough fingers attempting to run through it; the gesture so reminiscent of your childhood.

“Why?”

“She had this beautiful little girl, blessed by the Gods, noble in blood and in heart,” She recalls, “And I turned that child into the mad woman that likes spending her evenings with Ivar the Boneless.”

You shake your head at her words, closing your eyes and resting the back of your head on her stomach.

“Of all the things I have done, you truly believe talking to a Varangian King would be what my mother would take issue with?” You ask her, and the shieldmaiden grumbles an agreement, remaining silent for a short while.

“I will be back soon. Be careful, yes?” You nod. Sieghild traces around the wound in your forehead and sighs, “Your Gods and mine keep you, little one.”

“Your Gods and mine, mother.” You answer with a small smile, the exchange as old as goodbye.

She leaves you to your thoughts with a firm kiss pressed to the crown of your head, and you stay there, by the fire, wondering what will happen when the Varangians leave.

But turns out you don’t have to think much about what will happen when the Vikings collect their prizes, when the Saxons retreat back to England, when you will be left with three hundred Greeks and nowhere to go and nothing to do but wait for death; for the talks are exceedingly long, and almost a week has passed and still the Vikings make camp in this city, still Stithulf meets with Varangians daily, still the Viking King makes his way with his crutch and his uneven steps to your door.

The King himself is a vexing contradiction. Cruel, arrogant, and explosive; like seldom you have seen, even if most of the time his vitriol is not directed at you. Yet dedicated, intelligent, and, at least sometimes, hinting at someone that wants to give but does not know how to.

He manages to make you despise him as easily as he makes you admire him, hate presence in your mind and find yourself missing his voice or his expressive eyes when he’s not there.

You were never one to bite your tongue, and even if pain clogs your throat your memories leave your lips with ease, but Ivar…Ivar gives pieces of himself away like crumbs that fall from his so tightly-clasped hands. It is as if he couldn’t stop himself from giving away those little pieces, but at the same time dismisses the truths and cracks in the armor as soon as you make a slight mention of them.

He tells you about his mother, of her love and because happiness cannot be remembered without the biting sting of pain, of her absence. He tells you of his vow to kill his mother’s killer, and the look in his Greek Fire-like eyes when he does gives you a more certain prophecy than the Gods’ at to what destiny holds for the shieldmaiden. He tells you of the boatbuilder, of the man that did so much to make him who he is today, and if nostalgia paints the tales he weaves you say nothing.

Ivar now knows a lot about you as well, because when you meet daily with a stubborn man with no restrictions in his questions, you are bound to give away a lot of yourself. You tell him about the Christians of Attica, of their flames lapping at your legs and back, and if he understands a little more of your darkness then so be it. You tell him of Sieghild and her ways, of years at her side, of being taught how to wage and stop war, of her tales of this land so far away from where you were it seemed like a different realm. You tell him of life under the sigil of Persephone, you tell him secrets you have not dared tell a soul before, of the woman in the red veil and her warm darkness.

When you see him wince for the third time since he has sat down today, and hear the barely-there grunt of pain, you hope he doesn’t take this as offense -your times near Kiev when you were growing up reminds you strikingly of how particular Varangians are when it comes to pain- and reach for a marked leather pouch in one of your bags.

Grabbing onto a reasonable piece of willow bark, you turn back to the Viking and extend your hand. His eyes go from your hand to your face, but surprisingly enough you are not that bothered by the cold distrust as you thought you should be.

“Chewing on it helps with pain.” Is all you tell him in answer to his silent question.

He takes it with the mistrust, the annoyed hesitation, that are in such a way his that you fear you would never be able to see the somewhat-narrowed eyes, the movement of the head, the piercing glare, without thinking of him any longer.

It takes a moment, and an exasperated lift of your eyebrows for the warrior to finally bite into the softened bark. After a moment, because of course he would, the Viking asks, “How did you know?”

“I have to be attuned to others’ pain to be a healer, Viking,” You answer simply, settling back in your seat and draping the cloak over your legs. “You have healers where you are from.”

“Usually they are Völur.”

You shake your head with a small chuckle, “I am not a seeress.”

“But your Gods speak to you.”

You frown, “Scarcely of the future. The sight I have is regarding…the past, or sometimes present. Related to death, as per my Gods’ realm.”

In all his stubbornness, there’s a hint of fearlessness, more than a hint of courage; that almost whisper to you what he will ask for way before the words are to leave his lips.

The Viking stands up with a small grimace, and leaning on his crutch stands before you, “Prove it.”

“Are you certain?” You ask, again already aware of the answer he will give. When he nods, you take a deep breath and toe off your simple sandals. If the Viking takes note of the strange choice to have your bare feet on the cold ground, he does not mention it.

You stand as well, for a moment feeling Eleusis’ warm grasslands underneath your feet instead of the cold wood of a Scandinavian home, and face the Viking.

He holds himself still, so much so that you may for a moment confuse him with a marble statue. One that you can choose to admire or to break with a single push.

With the closeness, looking up at the cruel and handsome visage of Kattegat’s King, you realize what the pull of darkness you noticed surrounding him when you first saw him was.

Past the bloodthirst, past the cruelty and the vitriol; you catch a glimpse of something else.

A whisper not unlike the one that so long ago, when Sieghild offered to take you to the Danes, told you to await a few days in Sicily. That same night the news on the Saracen warriors threatening Athens with an onslaught of raids reached your ears, and instead of sailing North you returned to Greece.

Your eyes meet his, and a strange familiarity reaches you like a memory, like the phantom caress of a worn piece of silk over cold skin.

“You died, not long ago. You crossed into the realm of death and came back, and not only then, even in the womb the Gods debated your survival. Chosen by Hades.” The last words leave your lips in Greek, realization settling within you as you speak. You force your tongue back to his language when you continue, “You survived all those times because the Gods were not done with you and you know this, but you are not certain what the purpose they spared your life for is.

Without thinking, you move even closer, your head tilted back to stare at his pale eyes.

Your voice is a whisper in itself when you promise, “Your Gods have heard you beg to know the reason behind your pain, Ivar.”

There’s a flare of anger in his eyes, a snarl forming in his lips and they are the only warnings you have before the Viking’s hand closes around your throat.

You are dragged closer, rough fingers clawing at your neck and you cannot keep your mouth from opening in a gasp, your hand uselessly tugging at the King’s arm.

But you can still breathe, you notice past your panicked breaths. You feel your mouth dry, your heart quicken, but you do not fight back, even if your scared mind begs you to.

“Sieghild.” You whisper. You are not certain why you speak so lowly, but something tells you that you should.

The woman turns to you, and when her footsteps stop as she realizes what you wanted her to see, it seems the whole forest freezes. The wind doesn’t rustle the leaves, the birds do not sing, the distant stream stops its course.

It all seems to hold its breath alongside you, waiting for the injured beast’s move.

“Do not move,” Sieghild advises, “Do not cower or it will attack.”

You tighten your hand around the bow and stare back at the lynx’s wild eyes with a courage you do not have.

When the King leans even closer, you feel like a young girl holding a bow and praying the beast does not attack. Praying it mistakes your relentlessness with ruthlessness, and thinks twice about harming you.

“You will keep your visions to yourself, Priestess.”

And it’s the arrogance, the pride, the command, what gets the blood under your skin to a boil. You may not be able to overpower him, but the very Underworld may welcome you home before you bow down to a brute.

Your hand finds his wrist, nails digging lightly at the skin as you meet his gaze with the defiance not even the constricting rules of Attica could extinguish.

You reply to his threat with narrowed eyes. “You will get your hand off me, Viking.”

Surprisingly enough, he does, but keeps his burning eyes on yours and still towers above you.

“You asked.” You remind him. Because you have to swallow down other words, other reminders. You obeyed.

“How are you so sure it’s not the Norns telling you this? How does this not make you a Völva?” He asks, and past the venom and the volatility there’s a genuine question, you like to think.

“Maybe they are, maybe both our Gods are one and the same, but take different names,” You offer, “But I am not one of your seeresses, Viking. I am Hiereia.”

___

Hi! Thank you so much for reading! I’m sorry I wasn’t very regular, but now I’m gonna be. Probably Saturdays or Sundays are gonna be the days I post, btw.

I know I’m taking my sweet ass time getting to the abduction part of the abduction myth lol, but I hav my reasons. Or maybe I just like to ramble, and my stories do the same, who knows.

Anyways, just wanted to say I appreciate you all so much for reading! It really means a lot to know that people are reading this and liking it.

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar x reader #vikings imagine #vikings #νοσταλγία masterlist #νοσταλγία

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come-on-shitty-boys · 4 years

Text

//lunch date memories. sakusa kiyoomi//

Request: c-can I ask for some Omi fluff or anything actually🥺 Up to you- my brain diededed- lmfao hahhaa It's just fully shut down hue- ily Maddi 🥺

Warnings: None bby ;-; just pure unadulterated fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

Notes: Me: ah yes. Let’s do some nice, short fluff.

Me, 6 pages later: 0-0

“Omi, did we really have to come all the way up here for a picnic?” You pant, struggling to climb the steep slope of the trail. You were far behind your boyfriend who seemed less than bothered at the hike. Yet, you had sweat dripping down your face, knees weak from the constant attempt to keep up with Sakusa’s long strides.

“It’ll be worth it, I promise,” he says, turning to give you the faintest hint of a smile. He stopped, letting you catch up to him before slowing down his pace, helping you not-so-elegantly scramble over some of the particularly large rocks blocking the hiking trail that proved to not be a setback for Sakusa’s incredibly long legs, letting him easily step up and over any of nature’s obstacles.

And you know what? He was right. It was worth it. The view from the top was the most beautiful thing you had seen in a long time. Trees surrounded you, letting the sunlight filter through layers of leaves, stippling the ground with tiny golden beads of light. Clumps of wild flowers settled around the edges of the clearing, swaying daintily in the warm summer breeze.

As you catch your breath, wiping sweat from your chin, Sakusa lays the blanket down on the ground, smoothing down the fabric. In the least graceful fashion possible, you both flop down. You lay back, chest still heaving with ragged breaths. Your boyfriend only hums, looking down at you as he sets out to unpack the bag that carried the bentos he had prepared that morning.

“How are you not even the slightest bit exhausted?” You whine, rolling over onto your stomach, untying the soft purple cloth around your bento as Kiyoomi set two water bottles between you.

“It helps that I’m not a shortie,” he claims, tweaking your nose softly between his fingers.

“Hey!” You huff, holding your nose and shooting him a soft glare. He says nothing, just opens his own lunch and begins eating in silence. For many moments, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, letting the soft gusts of wind tousle your hair in every which way as it brings the sweet scent of flowers towards you.

Sakusa’s eyes are soft as he examines you. You’re lost in your meal, lazily scrolling through social media, every now and then lips shifting up in a little smile at a silly meme. Strands of hair flitting gently as the sun’s rays shined against your skin, casting a warm glow on your delicate features. It looked like a scene straight from a cheesy rom-com, but it’s not like Sakusa complaining. He’d happily be the lead in any movie if you were right there with him. It was beautiful.

You were beautiful.

If someone had told Sakusa when he was in high school that he’d be in love, he would’ve laughed in their faces. It’s not like he never wanted to be, sure, he had crushes, but most of them were just fleeting interests, lasting only a short amount of time and never really going further than a crush. Yet, here he was, five years later, sitting across from you. The first person he had ever truly fallen in love with. And hopefully, the last.

It was here, three years earlier, that he kissed you for the first time, holding your soft cheeks between his hands, letting his lips move over yours. It was awkward and clumsy, noses colliding more than once, and not at all what he had imagined a kiss being like, but it was nice and your lips felt so warm against his. He never wanted to pull away and if it weren’t for his lungs screaming for oxygen, he never would’ve.

He had been panting, face flushed, eyelids refusing to open in fear that this was all just some fervent dream. But, you had softly spoken his name and he had opened his eyes to stare down into yours. Eyes so full of life and love. Love for him. He had to move his thumbs across your skin, just to make sure one last time that this wasn’t a dream. The feeling of your face underneath his worn fingers brought a smile to his lips.

He had brought you here for a picnic, just like the one he had set up for today. But, you had made the lunches that day, promising that you washed everything properly while preparing them. Sakusa had noticed your small sigh of relief when he willingly took second, third, fourth bites until it was inevitably gone. Conversation had been much like it was now, nearly non-existent, preferring to revel in one another’s company than having meaningless discussions about things like the weather or the view.

If Sakusa Kiyoomi had been told in high school that in five years, he would be getting engaged, he wouldn’t have believed it. He would have just rolled his eyes, walking off, unamused by the conversation. But, now, there’s a small weight in his pocket and hundreds of pounds of pressure weighing down on his shoulders. Yet, the thought of it kept bringing a soft smile to his face, the mental image of you smiling down at him as he put the little diamond on your finger brought the familiar warmth to his heart. It was a warmth that he felt every single time he looked at you, thought about you when you were apart.

Bentos had long been pushed aside, crumbs being the only remnants. You had moved so that your head was laying against his thigh, every now and then poking his chin to get his attention to show him something that you thought he would enjoy. Kiyoomi’s long fingers were threaded in your hair, reaching for the right thing to say. He was sure that if you had a clear view of his face, you would be asking a million questions, trying to get inside his head and figure out what was with the weird look on his face.

“Hey,” he started, looking down at you.

You lock your phone, putting it down beside you, smiling up at him. “Hey.”

“Can I show you something?” When you just nod, he just shakes his head and tweaks your nose again. “You have to get up, shortie.”

Your lips settle into a cute pout at the nickname, but you sat up anyway, letting him pull you up from the blanket. He tugged you towards the edge of the clearing where the sun shone through the canopy in the breathtaking way. Kiyoomi wasn’t really sure what he was pointing at, but he led your gaze to something in the distance. Yet, even if there was nothing to look at, you still pretended to be mesmerized, whispering softly, “Oh, Kiyoomi. This is incredible.”

Sakusa pulled the little silver band from his pocket. He had been waiting for just the right moment for weeks now and it was here. He had every ounce of courage possible coursing through his body.

While you were distracted by nothing, Sakusa Kiyoomi sank down to a single knee. The happiness of just being here with you, ready to move your relationship forward, pushed any of those annoying thoughts about the filthiness of the dirt to the back of his mind. He didn’t care. You were the only thing that mattered to him right now.

It was the lack of his presence that made you turn your head side to side, looking around wildly for him. You stepped backwards, eyes wide in shock as you looked down into his deep brown eyes. Your boyfriend reached out his hand, taking yours so he could pull you closer towards him.

When he hadn’t even said a word and saw the tears streaming down your face, he was convinced that he had done something wrong. He was already getting up to wipe your cheeks, but you just shook your head, pushing him back to the ground. “No- No, I’m sorry. I’m just- I’m really happy, Omi. You can go ahead. I promise, I’m fine,” you say, smiling wide as you try to dry your eyes.

“Are you sure?” He asks, sinking back down, concern swimming all over his features.

“Yes, baby. I promise.”

He just nods, taking a deep breath. “I’m not really the best at words, but you’ve probably realized that by now. I didn’t really prepare a speech or anything, so this is likely not going to be the proposal you envisioned. The thing is, I have never felt like this with anyone else before. Every time I see you or think about you, I just get so stupidly happy and it took me a really long time to figure out what I was feeling. But, I realized that what I was feeling was love. I was in love with you and I don’t want to be in love with anyone ever again.” He pauses, brows furrowed tightly together as he breaks eye contact with you. “Wait- that sounded bad, didn’t it?”

You shyly shrug as if to politely say yes, but even he can’t miss the breathy laugh escaping your lips.

“Let me try that again- I don’t want to fall in love with anyone else. Was that better?” Sakusa quickly waves those thoughts away. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I love you. I love you so incredibly much. I love every moment that we get to spend together and I want more of those moments. I don’t know if you remember, but we had our first date here. I kissed you right here in this clearing for the first time. It- It really only felt natural to do this here, where everything started all those years ago. I want to marry you and I hope that you’ll have me as your husband, so that we can share more moments like this. Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Of course, Kiyoomi. I would love that more than anything,” you say, smiling down at him, holding his face in your hands. “Or, should I say, shortie,” you tease, pinching his own nose in retaliation.

Your boyfriend, or rather, your fiancé slowly got back to his feet, looking down at you from his incredible height. “What were you saying, shortie?” There’s a gentle smile on his face as he takes your left hand, placing the ring on your finger. “I love you, honestly,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I love you more, Omi.”

And just as it had begun, this chapter of your life ended with lips connected. But this time, less awkward and significantly more graceful. There was no clumsy bumps of noses, but even after all these years, Sakusa Kiyoomi found himself unwilling to pull away.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi #omi #imagine #x reader #fluff

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jadekitty777 · 3 years

Text

On Your Six, Chapter 1

Okay first of all, did we all coincide the Taiqrow Week with Father’s Day... accidentally? Because that’s secretly genius.

Secondly, whoops we’re also meshing with Qrowin week - hope y’all are okay to share!

Finally, let’s get down to business. Hi y’all, hope you haven’t missed me too much. Hopefully I can make up for my silence with this absolute beast of a fanfic. This is going to be a single, interconnected story matching the prompts of the entire week. I hope those of you who choose to read it, will enjoy it!

Day 1: Tattoos for @taiqrowweek

Rating: T for this chapter, M for overrall

Words: 2.3k

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: On Your Marks

The day Taiyang walked into his shop, before even a single word was spoken, he knew.

It wasn’t from any particular mannerism. Everyone’s body language was different. A chattering mouth. Averted eyes. A tapping foot. A drooped posture. In the short time Qrow had been doing this, he’d learned no single action could encapsulate the variety in which people expressed their shame.

Yet, not a single one could escape the stench. It was a foul thing. Sharp and smokey, like a tire fire on a junkyard, it lacquered over an omega’s scent so completely that it was near impossible to catch a whiff of the true smell that was originally there.

Even now, as Qrow inspected the damage upon his former friend’s bare back, mere inches away from the man’s scent glands, he couldn’t pick out a hint of the sunflowers and fresh soil that was Tai. Nothing left except the reek of burnt rubber and dishonor.

He didn’t call attention to it, just like he didn’t call attention to the shake in his friend’s shoulders as he placed a hand over the first mark. “This is extensive.”

“I know. But, I didn’t know who else to turn to.” Even as he turned his head to look at him, Tai hunched over a bit, and the brand seared across his shoulder blades stretched with the movement. “You’ll help me, right?”

Qrow’s eyes flitted between watery eyes and stained skin where the word SLUT, all in caps like some mockery of a grand declaration, taunted his every decision since their falling out and left the taste of bile on his tongue.

“Of course.” He promised.

It was widely thought that it was a farmer that first came up with branding back during the Early Modern period. Having been “inspired” by the tagging of the cattle which kept them in order, the alpha decided to do the same to omegas, ascertained the same outcome would follow. The practice was later adopted by prisons and other corrective facilities. Back then, it was merely a way of keeping track of those who had been in and out of the system by searing the skin with an iron that had the center’s insignia on it.

Advancements to the printing press and mail systems did away with that particular need, but while the jails abolished the practice, reformatories did not, releasing studies that claimed the procedure resulted in more ‘proper’ and ‘desired’ behaviors in omegas and were absolutely critical to full rehabilitation. Despite newer evidence showing these original claims were likely falsified simply for convenience and often actually had a devastating effect on an omega’s psyche, the three-century long old policy had yet to be abolished from the system.

The most the outcries had done the past few decades was change the method on which the ‘brand’ was applied. Instead of an iron, it was done with a tattoo needle and instead of an insignia, it became a single word that was like a permanent reminder of what landed the omega in the facility to begin with. The stench was caused by the use of the chemically enhanced ink that made it impossible for laser technology to fully remove.

In short, if an omega wanted the mark gone, their only choice was to cut out their own skin. Most, like his mother, accidentally killed themselves trying.

Which led to where Qrow was today, trying to shake things up in the only way he knew how. So, he jumped off society’s grid, took up a needle and his drawing skills, and turned the marks into works of art. More importantly, he gave the omegas who came to his door a way to recover and take back their lives.

He just never thought Tai would be one of them.

Once he’d taken the pictures he needed and Tai’s shirt was back on, things were relaxed enough he could brew some tea. As he handed the other man his cup, Qrow finally asked, “So, how’d you find me?”

“Wasn’t that hard.” He replied, fingers wrapping around the porcelain. “The omegas back at the reformatory would whisper before bed. It didn’t take me long to figure out they were talking about you.”

Qrow froze, trying to hide his trepidation. “Oh? They say my name?”

Tai snorted. “Not your name, but a name.” His expression turned cheeky. “Don’t worry though. Only someone who knows Harbinger used to be your Relics & Wyverns character could put the pieces together.”

“Ah, can it!” He barked as a flush worked its way up his neck. Still, tension drained from him. While there were no laws that specifically stated what an omega was required to do with their mark after their rehabilitation was complete, if he was caught tampering with it for them, he knew the courts could claim he was willfully interfering with a person’s emotional stability. Might even get him on a few counts of practicing mental health care without a license too.

Still, he didn’t particularly want to be sent to the slammer, which was why he worked so hard to keep to the underground. Never told anyone his name. Moved often. Kept minimal contact with clients. Whatever it took to make sure only the people who needed to find him could.

“I’m glad that you’re doing alright for yourself.” Tai said, giving a cursory glance to the shoddy working space that doubled as his apartment. Beyond his tattoo kit, he rarely took much with him when he relocated. Sometimes he got lucky on the accommodations and the place would already be partially furnished, other times he had to make do with what he could afford from the nearest thrift store.

This place was one of those latter times. He had a mattress on the torn up box spring with a chipped nightstand beside it, a circular, rickey table with two chairs for the dining room, a fairly barren kitchen area, and a slightly beat-up leather recliner for the clients.

It wasn’t hard to see Tai was really reaching as he said, “Your place is… nice?”

It was Qrow’s turn to snort. “At least be honest and tell me I live in a shithole.”

“I was not going to – okay, yeah it is kind of a shithole. But, you’re eating okay and everything, right?”

What an omega. “Yes mom, I’m getting my three squares a day and I’m even brushing my teeth before bed.” He lent back, the plastic chair creaking underneath as he did so. “But you didn’t exactly come here to critique my living conditions. Think there’s a lot more important stuff to talk about, don’t you?”

Suddenly, the tea was much more interesting than his face. “Yeah. Right. Um, guess there’s a lot to catch you up on, huh? You don’t even know about-”

“Whoa, hold up a sec.” He quickly interrupted. “Let’s get one thing straight: I don’t ask for any of my clients’ stories unless they feel like sharing. Some do, some don’t. But my help doesn’t come with any strings attached.” He met his gaze, stressing the next part carefully, “Even if they’re friends, okay?”

Tai still seemed to hesitate. “But, don’t you want to know about Yang?”

Of course, he did. He had about a thousand and one questions whirling through his head. But that didn’t matter right now. “You ready to talk about her?”

For the second time that day, tears shimmered in Tai’s eyes. He looked away quickly, saying nothing.

Yeah. He figured as much.

“Then no.” Qrow cleared his throat some. “Besides, I’m still a total disaster when it comes to handling people when they cry.”

That one, at least, earned him a weak chuckle.

“Some things never change?” Tai said with a sniff, rubbing the corner of his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“If it ain’t broke…” He shrugged. “Anyways, what I meant was, how do you want to change up that lil’ blemish a’yours?”

“I, uh, I don’t know. What do you normally do?”

“Turn it into a single design. But, I’ve never had to work on one so large before. That thing’s taking up about half of your back. Still doable, just… more difficult.” It was easy to busy his designs enough the word got lost under all the rest. Working on a scale of this size though, there weren’t many things he could think of that would both look nice and cover up the word. “Not to mention, we’ll have to take a lot of breaks, so your skin can heal.”

“How long do you think it would take?”

“Well, with three weeks between each session and the scale and details… probably nine to twelve months?”

Tai’s face fell. “Oh.”

“Something wrong?”

“Oh, no I mean…” He sighed. “I was just, kind of hoping it would be done before October, is all. Before the kids come home.”

Kids?!

As in plural?!

Qrow had to bite his tongue to physically stop himself from breaking his own rule. Took a deep, steadying breath.

Okay. That was six months away. There was no way. Unless…

“Well, we could make it four separate designs. One for each letter. That way I could work on one side and then the other while it’s healing. If we meet every week, should be doable. Gonna be some long hours under the needle for you though.”

Tai lit up just like the sun he was named after. “I can handle it. I’ll do anything. Oh-! We could even make it four dragons, couldn’t we?”

Qrow barked out a laugh. “I mean yeah, if that’s what you want. Give me your scroll deets. I’ll work up some designs over the next few days and send them to you.” As he pulled out his device to input the information, he added, “We gotta work out a schedule too. What days are RO?”

“She visits on Tuesdays and Saturdays right now. It’ll go down to once a week pretty soon. I’m also TA-ing at Sanctum Middle, so weekdays are pretty full.”

It was all par for the course. Even after doing time at the reformatory, omegas still had to have frequent visits from their rehabilitation officer, to make sure they were keeping a steady job and homelife. That meant good evaluations from his superiors and a living space that looked like not even a speck of dust had had a chance to touch down. This was especially important for omegas like Tai, who would have to fight for every top mark he got. If he failed to, the RO would claim he was still unfit to raise his own children and keep them in the fostering system.

Qrow knew that was the reason for the six-month time limit. He had no doubt that once Tai was out of parole and had his pups back, he’d be hightailing it out of the kingdom. But for the RO to still be visiting at that frequency… “Did you come looking for me right after you got out?”

“I-” The tea had become interesting again. And cold. “Yeah. I knew you were working out of Mistral, and Atlas allows for transfers to Argus.”

At this rate, his tongue was probably going to have indents from his incisors. Once he knew he wasn’t going to start prying or, worse yet, shouting at Tai - because really how stupid could he be?! – he opened his mouth and said, “So, Sundays then?”

For the first time in nearly six years, Tai smiled at him. “Sounds perfect.”

For the next few days, Qrow did nothing but draw. Whether it was with a buzzing needle or a pencil, his hand was rarely empty. Even as he downed his morning coffee or spun his suppertime noodles onto his fork, his other hand was moving over a sheet of paper, his muse on overdrive as he tried to pick out the perfect designs for each letter. By nightfall, he was sending at least half a dozen pages full of sketches to Tai, then checking his phone every five minutes as he impatiently anticipated his reply.

It didn’t actually matter where they started, because once they decided on which letter was going first, Qrow’s focus would narrow to the second one over. The tricky thing was, Tai had always been the type who was simple to please – well before a reformatory could ever drill that lesson into him. Even when they were young, whether it was a question of what game they wanted to play or what food they wanted to eat, Tai would almost always just grin and say ‘whatever you want’. Which meant, every sketch was perfect and Qrow had to work twice as hard to actually find something he truly fell in love with.

He knew he finally struck gold for S when Tai figured out how to use the circling tool on his scroll and sent the shot back with an exuberantly loud ‘THIS ONE’, followed by a horrendous amount of exclamation points.

Qrow had never felt prouder.

It was a small effort to resketch the piece in full and line it. Adding color was more challenging, as he had to balance what looked nice with the limitations of his inks. But leaving it without was absolutely not an option. Not for someone who used to decorate his walls with paintings of tropical beaches and autumn-locked forests and had had a Crayola box spectrum of begonias sitting on his windowsill in his childhood room. Tai was a man who radiated a rainbow both in his life and in his heart. To try to dull that by leaving him in nothing but blacks and grays was a crime Qrow wasn’t willing to commit.

Besides, the design wouldn’t translate well without it.

So, he kept working at it until he knew it was just right. When the omega’s excitement only seemed to grow, he knew his labor was over.

#qrow branwen #taiyang xiao long #Taiqrow #taiqrowweek #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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darlingsdevil · 4 years

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Of The Valley (Joel x Reader)

Chapter 3: Slipping Back

Summary: Life in Jackson is never easy. Consoling angsty teenagers, wading through the mysterious waters of Joel’s romance language and with a child of your own on the way? Life

Chapter summary: A concert. Stew. Back to the old routine.

Of The Valley Masterlist

RDR2 Masterlist

Taglist (please comment to be added or removed): @sidepuff @joelsheartache @fangirl-inthe-us @cowboyfrazer @scarletpines

A/N: This chapter is.. more of a filler. It just got so long, I didn’t want to rush next chapter. Which is.. a big one.

•••

You were reading a magazine when Ellie, Joel and Tommy got back. Something about fashion trends in the 80’s, you weren’t too interested though. You had finished your candy bar ages ago, wondering just how much candy Mark had hidden here.

Their loud arrival caused you to jump, you were so caught up in your magazine you briefly forgot where you were. Ellie was the first one through the door, you went up to greet them.

“Ellie, it’s been awhile,” You smiled at her, bringing her in for a hug. Ellie looked older, you were surprised, you had thought she stopped growing. That little girl was getting too old for your liking.

“It has been. I have some new tricks I want to show you on the guitar,” Ellie said. You looked to Joel. You knew they were having problems before, Joel never really mentioned why, teenagers were a complicated bunch regardless. You remembered all the teenage angst from your years too, it seems the apocalypse hadn’t taken that trope out of the remnants of society though.

“Any new songs you’ve learned?” You asked. Tommy and Joel walked to the kitchen, leaving you with Ellie by the door.

“Yeah. I’ve written a few actually,” Ellie said sheepishly.

“Played them for Cat yet?” You winked at her with a smug look on your face, talking quietly so Joel would not hear. Ellie blushed and looked down.

“No.” She shook her head, trying to hide her blushing face.

“Well come on, I want to hear some new songs you’ve learned,” You said, leading her to the couch. You sat down and waited for her to get her guitar. It was becoming easier and easier to forget that you were outside of Jackson. You were still shook up, but it was easy to pretend you weren’t. Fake it till you make it, right?

She sat across from you on the armchair and picked up her guitar. Tommy and Joel were talking about something in the kitchen, but you couldn’t quite make it out.

“How many songs have you written since I’ve last seen you?” You leaned back into the chair, waiting for her to begin playing.

Ellie shrugged, “Three or so? I don’t write very often. I write lyrics a lot, but I don’t really write music for it.”

“Okay, well, play me the song you like the best, newly learned or original.”

Ellie nodded and rested her hands on the guitar, waiting to play.

“I know you’ve heard this song. Maybe it will even be better than the original.” Ellie looked at you before she began playing.

“It’s always better acoustic.”

“I’m sure I’ll woo you with my melodic voice then, and my guitar skills,” Ellie joked with a twinkle in her eye. It had been a long time since you’ve seen the spark in that girl’s eye. You remembered when she was younger, a fresh new face at Jackson and a wild thing. There was a lot to catch up on with her. Guilt struck you as you realized you had not only abandoned Joel, but Ellie too.

Ellie began playing a song, you immediately recognized it.

“Ain't no sunshine when she's gone,” Ellie sang, focusing on the chords. You leaned forward, resting your head on your hand, watching her intently. Ellie was a good singer. You always looked forward to her mini concerts.

“It's not warm when she's away

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

And she's always gone too long

Anytime she goes away.” She continued playing. You smiled at her as she looked up, encouraging her to continue.

It was a song you always enjoyed. You had a Bill Withers record at your house. Mark loved Bill Withers, he used to play that record nonstop. Even used to beg the party organizers at the seasonal dances to play it for him.

When Ellie finally finished, you clapped for her, a bittersweet smile through it all.

“That’s a really good song. Mark really likes it,” You told her.

“Yeah, he’s played that record for me a few times.”

“I actually have a few records to give you. Mark decided he didn’t want them anymore,” You said.

Ellie’s eyes immediately lit up, “Which ones?”

“I’ll let you pick out a few once we get back to Jackson,” You promised.

“Anyone I want?” She questioned, making sure you weren’t lying.

“Anyone you want. Except for Bill Withers, Mark would probably chop your head off,” You repeated back.

“And Mark’s okay with me taking his stuff?” Ellie raised her brow.

You nodded, Ellie smiled.

“That’s awesome. Mark’s got a big collection,” Ellie replied, setting her guitar to rest on the couch. She leaned back onto the couch.

You looked over your shoulder to Joel and Tommy. Tommy was gathering things from the refrigerator to make a stew.

“You’re not touching this stew, Joel, pretty sure you would manage to burn water.” You heard Tommy say, you looked over at Ellie and she confirmed Tommy’s comment. It was true, Joel was an awful cook.

“Which is why I’m leaving it up to you,” Joel said to Tommy. You got up and walked over to them.

“What type of stew are you making, Tommy?” You asked him. If they were making stew, it meant you would most likely be staying the night here — or at least for dinner.

“Vegetable. Nobody brought meat up here,” Joel replied. There was rarely ever food in the lookouts, even as big as this one was. There were supposed to be supplies brought up monthly to each lookout, either someone ate all of it or it was never brought up.

“Ah, good old vegetable stew,” You said sarcastically.

“Something wrong with it?” Tommy quipped.

“No, just wish I was back at the bar eating a sandwich right about now.” You shook your head.

“Can’t go wrong with a sandwich,” Ellie called out, flipping through the magazine you were reading earlier. Joel laughed lightly. Ellie and Joel were growing farther and farther apart, it was normal for a father and daughter to have a rocky relationship, especially at her age, you just hoped it didn’t last into her adulthood. Joel mentioned it to you once. You had been meaning to ask Ellie about it, but you got sidetracked.

••

Time passed quickly, soon enough you had forgotten all about what had happened in the morning, that was until Tommy asked if you wanted to go out again to finish off the rest of the infected. It was easy to get caught up in the normalcy of your friends, especially while in the comfort of a lookout, but outside there was a raging storm of pain and suffering, and you were caught in the midst of it all.

You were reluctant to leave the lookout, it was a good idea to face your fears in theory, but terrifying when actually going through with it. Tommy assured you everything would be fine, but you weren’t entirely convinced.

“I don’t know, Tommy,” You sighed while you threw away the rest of Mark’s stash that you had brought out for Tommy, Joel and Ellie to enjoy. There was a confectioner in town who made chocolates, Mark was always there buying candy. You found three candy bars, a box of caramels, chocolate covered pretzels and some peanut butter fudge. You wondered how it had managed to not spoil, but more so wondering how Mark had bought that much candy and hid it from you.

“It’ll be easy. Joel will go out with you,” Tommy assured.

“I don’t know, Tommy,” You said quietly, glancing over to Joel with Ellie. Joel was showing Ellie some trick on the guitar.

“I already told him to back off a little, he should be fine,” Tommy replied. Joel was angry, upset, you weren’t sure he would be as understanding.

“Why can’t you just go with me?”

“You haven’t talked to Joel in three months, I think you two need to do something catching up.”

You sighed. That was true. There was a lot to discuss, you just weren’t sure where to start on any of it.

“You guys better not start eating without us, Tommy,” You said, walking towards Joel. The stew would be done soon.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Y/N.”

•••

You knew the spot where the infected were at. They were usually up there this time of the year, it was about a ten minute walk from the lookout. The walk on the way there was silent, but you could tell Joel was waiting to say something.

“What is it Joel?” You finally ask, looking over your shoulder at him. He held his rifle tightly to his chest.

“Nothing.”

“You’re not acting like it’s nothing.”

Joel sighed before speaking, “I just want to know why you have been avoiding me, avoiding everyone for the past three months.”

“I wasn’t deliberately avoiding you. I just.. I got busy,” You said quietly with a sigh. Today was just one big headache.

“Okay. Can you tell me why you wanted me to come out here?” Joel replied softly. He was being suspiciously comforting.

“I need someone I trust up here.” It was a vague answer. In case things went south, you would much rather be comforted by Joel like he had so many times for you before, then Tommy or Ellie. Tommy and Ellie were like family, but they did not compare in the way that Joel did.

“I guess that is fair.” You knew he had questions, you would answer them when you were ready.

You continued walking for a little while. It was hard to imagine yourself ever shooting a gun normally again. It would be a constant reminder of what had happened. You knew what you needed to do, you knew you had to do it, to put it simply, it was a job that needed to be done regardless of your stance on it. It was still a question as to why you were needed for a simple job like this, you would have to get it out of Tommy later. Maybe Ellie knew something too, you suspected the least.

Joel was off your case, for at least a little while it seemed. You knew he was confused, you knew he had questions. It was all one step at a time, and now you were out here facing your fears that had crippled you for months. It was insane to say the least.

The small area devoid of trees came into view. It overlooked a group of houses and a gas station. You took out your binoculars as you came closer to the ledge, looking out towards the buildings. There were a group of infected, just like you had thought. Fifteen or so. It would only take you a short while to pick them all off, that was if the job went on without a hitch.

You could feel your hands shaking even as you slung the rifle off your shoulder. Heart pounding so loud you were sure Joel could hear it too.

“Now this is a one person job,” You laugh nervously. Joel eyed you cautiously as he leaned against the tree behind the ledge.

It was now or never. As much as you wanted to throw the rifle off the cliff edge, run straight back home with your tail between your legs, you knew you couldn’t. You owed Maria. You owed her more than one simple job. You had to do it.

You swallowed your fears, telling yourself to just fuck it and shoot the damn things like you always used to. But ‘fuck it’ wasn’t going to cut it this time. It would take more than that.

“Joel?” You asked, facing the cliff edge, overlooking the terrain where nature had reclaimed the earth.

Joel hummed in response.

“If I do this, can we go out to the lake again?” You looked at him, your eyes saying everything that needed to be said.

Joel nodded, a small smile on his lips. Joel was beginning to piece it all together, there was a reason you were so shook up by being out here. Avoiding him for three months, something had definitely happened like Tommy had said. Besides, Joel owed you a trip back to the lake regardless. He didn’t mind taking you out for the day, he just hoped Mark wouldn’t be around when he did.

You bit your lip, and swiveled around to face the group of infected below. Taking a deep breath, you pulled your rifle up to your shoulder and put a bullet into the chamber.

You blinked away any intruding thoughts and focused on the task at hand. If you did this, you had a date with Joel, a chance to repair any relationship you had with him prior to the incident. It was easy, you had done this a million times before, you reassured yourself.

Hesitatingly, you looked out into the scope, raising your rifle so your bullet would hit its mark. You focused on a clicker next to a building. It was standing still, an easy shot. You pushed the air out of your lungs and pulled the trigger. The bang went off and your mind went into a frenzied panic, as if your brain was screaming out and only you could hear it, but you weren’t listening to this time. The recoil was barely noticeable.

You repeated the action. It was easier than the first. You slipped into that role of a seasoned sniper quicker than you thought you would have. It was muscle memory now. The runner you took down fell with a bullet between its eyes. Even Joel let out an impressed whistle. That memory was an inkling in the back of your mind now.

Then you shot another, and another, and another until there was all but one. A runner, newly infected by the looks. Not quite battered or bloodied as the others and the clothes looked fresher. At least a month or two before it had been turned. You wondered who the person was before they became infected, what their story was. But it didn’t matter, you were here to protect your town and put the infected out of its misery.

You loaded your gun and aimed at the infected. The infected head twitched in unnatural ways a few times before it looked your way, seemingly staring at you for a split second until you shot it. It’s body fell to the ground, blood pouring out of the wound, you aimed for the head, but only shot the stomach. Cursing yourself, you loaded another bullet.

This time, the infected look straight up at you again. Your breath hitched in your throat, you knew it wasn’t truly looking, it just happened to look your way. You wanted to put it out of its suffering as quickly as possible.

But god, did it look like him. It laid the same way he did. This time though, you hesitated, perhaps it would die on its own. You waited a few seconds as it twitched and thrashed on the ground, realizing it wouldn’t die too easily. The bullet hit its mark and the infected became a lifeless body.

You grimaced at the sight of the carnage below. At least it was over. You were getting better at controlling your panic, earlier today was a mistake, a slip up. But truth be told, you felt like the life had been sucked out of you at the sight of the runner.

“Goodjob,” Joel said, patting you on the back, pulling you back into reality. You immediately jumped at the feeling.

“Jesus, Joel, you scared the shit out of me,” You pant out.

“You knew I was there,” Joel replied slowly.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just scared me, that's all.”

Joel nodded, “Okay, well let’s head back, I’m sure the stew is done.”

“Sure thing.”

You couldn’t help but remember how that runner stared at you. Perhaps it remembered for a brief moment who it was, begging you to shoot it. Maybe there was still a person inside, waiting for the moment to be freed while the disease ran rampant outside, controlling its every movement. The look it gave you reminded you of someone you knew. The reason you were so scared to be out here in the first place.

•••

#tlou fanfic #joel tlou #joel x reader #tlou 2 spoilers #tlou #the last of us #the lasg of us pt ii #the last of us part ii #the last of us pt 2 #the last of us part 2 #the last of us part ii spoilers #the last of us pt ii spoilers #the last of us part 2 spoilers #the last of us pt 2 spoilers #tlou x reader #tlou 2 x reader

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razorblade180 · 4 years

Text

interdimensional Dads 4

Jaune:Who’s Next?

Jaune:Pick a number from one to a thousand.

Jaune:Since you married Yang it’s either 69

Jaune:Or 420, but because it you I’m gonna with 7

Jaune:Purple gets to go.

Jaune:....Oh did you- oh I see. That’s stupid. I like how he got the answer but it’s stupid.

Jaune:Hate to break it to you all but I can already tell that I’m probably the least interesting here. My Remnant doesn’t have anything crazy going on.

Jaune: Lucky you. We just wanna relax.

Jaune:Hehe, anyways I started dating Blake when we were at Beacon. Well I guess technically we didn’t date but we went on a lot of dates because we liked similar things. Music, tea, some books.

Jaune:Filth!

Jaune:*red* It’s been called that, yes. It’s something nice to bond over.

Jaune:Bond over, or bind over?

Jaune:I’m surprised you didn’t say bondage over.

Jaune:So scandalous. How grown of you.

Jaune:What would your dear parents think? Oh the shock!

Jaune:Why am I the one getting picked on!? You guys would literally find a similar interest in it!

Jaune:We know, it’s just funny seeing you red. Please continue.

Jaune:I can’t imagine the trip around the world was dramatically different. Reuniting with Blake was super comforting. We finally started officially dating after she scared me half to death at Argus. After beating Salem I decided to go with her back home after visiting my folks. Her parents were stunned to see yet another blonde-

Jaune:Sun or Yang?

Jaune:Both...you see, they new Sun for obvious reasons. Yang was a little more....how to put it?

Jaune:....She was in love with her too, wasn’t she?

A strange feeling of guilt and sadness filled the air.

Jaune:Yang and Blake were always pretty close, more so than with me in certain aspects. They were partners so of course it would be like amd with all the stuff that happened between them since Beacon, Yang falling in love with her was so easy to see. It wasn’t like it was one sided either, but those aspects, the knitty gritty hardships they shared? Sometimes sharing all that history makes it hard to have a normal relationship. So Yang took it pretty rough when we officially got together.

Jaune:That must’ve been a rough pill to swallow.

Jaune:It definitely was awkward at first l and a little bit of animosity. But eventually overtime it got better, until it didn’t... Blake and I had a kid. Our quiet little Lucas. Yang never out right said anything but having him and seeing us, me have a life with Blake brought sadness along with whatever happiness she did have for us. So she barely visits; she’s still kind when does though but it’s hard not to see that she would rather be somewhere else.

Jaune:Damn that’s....that’s rough. I couldn’t imagine my life without Yang. She’s practically my best friend at this point; always there to pick me up.

Jaune:Yeah she’s been a real life saver for me too.

Jaune:She’s my wife so it goes without saying that a world where she doesn’t want to be around me or Blake for that matter is pretty crazy. Do you at least have Ruby, Weiss, Ren and Nora?

Jaune:Yeah they’re around doing their own thing and we take turns visiting. Ruby tried to act like a bridge between us and Yang and it works for the most part. It’s rough but not as rough as it sounds. But any who, I guess I should talk about Lucas now.

Jaune:Before that, I couldn’t help but notice that you sound a little more...proper than the rest of us.

Jaune:*red* I’m always running into some important faunus that meets with Blake about equal rights stuff. It’s very weird being the only human around sometimes so I try extra hard not to say anything dumb. Don’t you have to meet with wealthy people a bunch?

Jaune:Yeah. They no better than to give me a hard time, or Weiss will kill them. They are very aware of the name ice queen.

Jaune:Ah.....Weiss. *smiles*

Jaune:So joe is your kid? I bet he’s as driven as his mother!

Jaune:*puts head on table* That boy has zero motivation! If you don’t bother him then he’ll lay around all day and sleep like a....well like a cat!

Jaune:Yikes...

Jaune:To be fair, I understand why. His semblance shows him various glimpses of the future that he’s never been able to complete control. Sometimes it activates without warning so it’s not uncommon for him to know something coming up. Poor guy can’t even finish a book sometimes without seeing his future self reading the ending.

Jaune:No wonder he has not motivation. The spice of life is being spoiled for him!

Jaune:Lucas is such a bright kid, a little bit awkward at times but he’s kind too. It’s a real bummer to see him in this constant slump. It’s not small things that get spot either. There are times he’s seen accidents happen and could do nothing to stop it, or the vision was so vague he didn’t know what was going on until it was too late. The world becomes pretty anxiety inducing if all you see is potential accidents.

Jaune:Potential?

Jaune:Yeah, it’s possible to avoid his visions. They aren’t set in stone by any means. He’s seen me beat him up in sparring and then didn’t show up. He’s walked out into the ocean before out of nowhere and speared a barracuda that he says “would’ve been bothersome later.” A family went swimming later on in that area. Still wish he went outside just to smell the roses though.

Jaune:Sounds frustrating, I feel for him. I don’t think my mind could function.

Jaune: I don’t think his is if he’s becoming a shut in. Maybe therapy or something? What does Blake think about all of this?

Jaune:Blake can convince him more than I can to move around more consistently. She’s always checking in out of nowhere and making sure both of us are doing well. This girl video chatted one time just to see if anything done anything fun, then forced us to find something fun to do if we haven’t. She knows if we’re left alone then we start stewing in our own thoughts way too much.

Jaune:That’s actually really sweet.

Jaune:I know! I can’t believe that’s my wife! We call her to make sure she takes a break from work or else she’ll work through lunch. We are basically tripping and picking each other up, it’s such a weird mess hehehe. That’s family though. It gets a little tense but nothing we can’t handle. Especially Lucas, I got a feeling his slump is about to turn into a rollercoaster.

Jaune:What makes you say that?

Jaune:Well....

xxxx

On a sunny day in menagerie a beautiful young girl looks up at the sky with complete serenity and wonder. It’s so blue, so simple, yet so fulfilling.

“You ever look at the sky and just wish you could touch it?” Her gaze drops to in front of her to see a very unamused Lucas.

“No, no I don’t.”

“That’s too bad. Are you more of a deep blue see guy or...”

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to know my bodyguard.”

“Still not your bodyguard.” He groaned. “Can you focus on not moving. I have three shots at this.”

“I bet you’ll get it right first try, no pressure.”

Lucas’s eye twitched as the girl gave him a big smile in her frayed harness, fifty feet from the ground. The boy angled his feet on the unsecured steel beam just enough to distribute his weight evenly.

“You and I have very different viewpoints on tense situations...” He slowly leaned forward with his hands stretched out. “Grab my hands at the same time.”

“Is it bad I wanna know what happens if I don’t?”

Her question was meant with stressful silence and anxious looks that only made her smile. “Just kidding, I can’t grab your hands at the same time when they’re trembling. Lighten up a little.”

“You do know this is your life right now?”

“Yeah I know. Hey, you single?”

That came out of nowhere. He folded his ears, flustered and confused. “What does that have to do with-”

The girl suddenly grabbed his hands. “Boom, you stopped trembling. That’s what I call team-” the harness snapped. The feeling of complete weightlessness took her for a moment before gravity came to pull her down. It was in that second Lucas yanked her close, her body in his arms.

He slowly slid backwards onto sturdy ground and then felt a strong breeze that was more than enough to sever the beam from the rest. The girl gasped.

“The workers!”

“Don’t worry.” He looked over the edge to see all of them far away and the beam falling right into their massive pile of dirt he told them to put down. Lucas let out a long sigh before looking at the girl.

She raised her eyebrow. “You haven’t answered my question yet.”

He groaned again. Go for a walk they said. It would do you some good they said. Now I’m dealing with this.

“I’m single.”

“Cool, I’m not.” She giggled.

“.....” He slowly nodded. “I should drop you.”

“But you won’t.”

“Sadly....”

Part 3

#rwby #the void #jaune arc #rwby au #rwby knightshade #rwby dragonslayer #rwby lancaster #rwby whiteknight #lucas belladonna

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bladekindeyewear · 3 years

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-12-25

I’m not going to spend time BLOGGING an upd8 on Christmas morning!

...yes I am who the fuck am I kidding. (Bonus stuff and Hiveswap are still well on hold though.)

So are we gonna follow up on the main ship? Probably not, right, with that perfect Karkat point to cut away, right? We’re just going to leave Roxy’s question hanging, as well as makeouts etiquette, and leave while having seen a COUPLE FRAMES of non-possessed canon Jade with only whatever fun fanart was inspired across the internet by the moment to tide us over????

Yeah, probably.

Ugh, more Dirk. I guess it’s overdue. :(

> CHAPTER 16. Welcome to my Secret Lair

Oh huh, I guess not? So... Jane’s, or Rose and Kanaya’s?

Karkat stays for longer than John thought he would. They talk a bit, but mostly they are quiet. Eventually, Karkat gets called away on yet more important war business, leaving John with one final touch on the shoulder. John leans into it in response, though he’s a bit ashamed of chasing down a sliver of physical affection so soon after obliterating Karkat’s evening like he had.

Pretty much, yeah. Can’t blame either of them.

When Karkat is finally gone, John still doesn’t move. It isn’t as though he has nowhere else to go, since there are quite a few places he might attempt to make himself useful, for better or for worse.

You’re still abandoning the task that was explicitly yours to protect your literal kid and his friends, but, oh well. Low-point. Dave dead, house dead, broke news, I get it.

He just doesn’t feel ready for that yet. The remnants of his house are still smoldering, and he can’t stop staring at them. It would make sense, he thinks, to want to root around through the rubble for anything that’s still intact; some half-charred keepsake to claim as the last thing left that’s still his. But he doesn’t want to do it, and he doesn’t want to think about it. And he still can’t move.

Can’t move. No Breath huh? What’s going to get him to, then?

> (==>)

Oh boy, that might help. XD She’s pretty good at that.

> (==>)

Still with the waistline gap. And was his phone always yellow like his God-Tier shoes?

ROXY: hey john can u do me a quick solid ROXY: actly idk how quick itll be but its definitely solid ROXY: harry anderson says i just missed u being here but could u skip back on over?

Nice, huh! No judgment, just a hey-any-chance-you-could-swing-back. He sort of needs to be needed right now, in a simple, almost everyday non-judgmental way I guess. (That’s what he NEEDED anyway-- whether he deserved it though is up for debate.)

ROXY: i need help w/smth and yr darling boy is holed up in his room working on some fuckin craft project or other and cant be bothered

YES SEW JOHN A BETTER FITTING FUCKING OUTFIT

ROXY: and now that me and u are freshly on speakin terms again i might as well take advantage of that olive branch and put u to work ROXY: assumin you havent died in an air raid, that is ROXY: which id also be interested in knowin about so if u wld be so kind as to reply instead of leavin me hangin

Heheheh. Gosh Roxy is always the best.

JOHN: yea yea sorry im here. JOHN: i just had a hard time getting my phone out of these fucking tiny pants.

Hah.

JOHN: and also my house is bombed out so i'm kinda grappling with that. JOHN: but i honestly am not sure how much longer i need to sit around staring at it. trying to align my memories of my youth with whatever is happening right now so JOHN: short version is no i’m not dead, and yeah i can come back over there and help you out. ROXY: oh sweet yr alive and down to do manual labor its a win/win JOHN: see you soon.

Yep! Pulled away from all the metaphorical, ultra-meaningful bullshit, back to some brass tacks with some easy humor. Definitely something Roxy can do well.~

> (==>)

EXCUSE ME. What is that outfit and pose. Did you--

ROXY: sup ROXY: follow me ROXY: well were just going to my room so i guess technically u know the way JOHN: haha ok.

Did you invite him over for the manual labor of banging you while your son is sewing in the other room

Or maybe the labor is making him a new sibling. JFC

Is this plan part of why we got the sudden content warning that was mocked or was that mainly for Hiveswap

John follows, trying to shake the ominous feeling he got from what she’d just said. He’d been in and out of this house a lot in the past few days. Why should this be any different?

I DUNNO JOHN DOES THIS SEEM DIFFERENT TO YOU

> (==>)

Yea this seems like a fucc room.

JOHN: it’s not like i could forget! ROXY: ya i guess u only really saw the living room when you were here the other day but i have changed some stuff up ROXY: done a lil redecoratin here n there

So it’s MORE of a fucc room than previously >__>”

ROXY: may have to do a smidge more if my old bff decides im next on the list for bombing out ROXY: but so far so good

Ah geez.

ROXY: just a coupla exploded cars in the yard from some shenanigans our dear son and his friends were in but u kno it is what it is!!!

Well, that’ll buff out easy.

ROXY: can i get u anything? ROXY: just made some coffee JOHN: no, uh, i’m good.

Of course she has a fancy handled winecoffeeglass (and the handle does look ridiculous but it’d be too hot to hold otherwise)

Roxy shrugs and swirls her own coffee around in her novelty mug. John looks around. A lot about the room is the same. The family photos, the rug. There’s a lot more cat stuff in there now, though. The bed is new. John feels like he’s about to take a test he hasn’t studied for. He makes himself focus on what she’s saying.

That would be the feeling.

> (==>)

MY GOD. Roxy is so fucking good at this holy shit

She KNOWS she’s making him squirm and she loves it

JOHN: so uh anyway. JOHN: what was this favor? ROXY: yo why dont u just come rest yr tush for a bit ROXY: take a lil relax next 2 me here JOHN: haha uh. JOHN: roxy i uh. JOHN: im flattered, but i don’t know if that’s really the right step right now. JOHN: don’t get me wrong, everything seems so fucked up right now that when i try to think about what might actually BE the right step, it feels like a huge cartoon question mark might physically manifest over my head. JOHN: but I’m not sure if um rekindling our physical relationship is really the best--

So is Roxy trolling him, about to reveal she wasn’t thinking of sex and was just making things seem sultry? Or just had “lol jk” as an option-select, maybe.

> (==>)

ROXY: r u kiddin me rn egbert JOHN: i’m not? unless you were, in which case yeah lets say i was also kidding. JOHN: oh my god, i’m sorry, i don’t know why this making me freak out.

OH NOOO NOT THE DISDAAAAIN - CRITICAL HIT D:

ROXY: i remember our past boot knockin with fondness but that is a situation im not interested in revisiting

boot knockin XD

ROXY: look john ROXY: i was trying to be polite about it ROXY: offering u sustenance n rest n all ROXY: but you look like shit ROXY: i just wanted to catch up on the whole heinous war situation were in and maybe check in on e/o before leaping strait to the real n actual nonsexual manual labor favor i have in mind for u JOHN: oh.

Hey, she can’t help looking sexy she’s too good at it.

Is the manual labor moving the crashed cars? Can’t Roxy pull that off on her own, or... banish the cars to the void or something? (Oh, but WOULD she want to do it on her own when she can rope in John and bring him down to earth by giving him a useful task? And admittedly his strength and wallet would make things easier.)

John feels his shoulders unbunch. Of course. Yeah. He’s almost embarrassed by how relieved he feels. So what if his ex wife wanted to hook up? Shouldn’t that be a situation he could navigate? Don’t people like to find solace in human physical connection during dire times? Why did the idea of it make his mind white out in panic more than, say, any number of the traumas he just experienced?

Probably some gender stuff mixed up in there too, June.

He doesn’t know, but he believes Roxy that he must look pretty haggard. He probably feels haggard? Maybe sitting down will feel better.

Just put your feet up yeah

> (==>)

WHAT A CUTE IMAGE

JOHN: sorry. like i said, my "how to react to stuff" meter is completely fucked right now. ROXY: thats fair bud

she’s used to being patient with you don’t worry otherwise you never would’ve gotten this far

ROXY: real fast i do need to do a quick takeback of all that shit i said last time we talked about janey not being literally the most evil person we knew or whatever ROXY: i guess i was hopped up on arguin or somethin since that was before we hit our conversational vibe bc of course u were right and i shoulda listened

Ouch. Yeah, we saw just lately just how far off the deep end she was. (Where was that funny upd8 reaction art summarizing the bit where Kanaya was holding Tavros hostage and Jane was transparently debating “hmm do I let my son die?” and Kanaya and Tavros were just looking at each-other flat-mouthed nervous? I REALLY wanted to share that but I don’t usually want to reblog or put most stuff HS^2 not under a read-more, for spoiler purposes, usually.)

ROXY: im just glad ur ok ROXY: or like alive JOHN: yeah, jury's still out on "ok" but, you know. ROXY: ya ROXY: u said ur house is gone?? JOHN: yep. JOHN: completely. ROXY: jeez ROXY: i would ask how ur feelin but like the answer 2 that has got 2b "prtty bad"

Talk it ouuuut~~ get those feels out there and articulated john

JOHN: yeah. JOHN: i mean. JOHN: no? JOHN: it’s weird. JOHN: it feels like it should be a bigger deal, I guess? JOHN: like it’s my HOUSE. JOHN: but mostly it always felt like my dad’s house? JOHN: and when i started living there after i moved out of here, it was like i crammed myself back into whatever was left of my kid self? JOHN: and it didn’t feel good, but it at least was familiar, you know? JOHN: like living there let me feel closer to my dad, trying to be like the way i remember him, or like how i remember him wanting me to be, or something? JOHN: and i didn’t realize how much i hated doing that until i saw it all go up in flames. JOHN: so i guess i could have used my powers to stop the fire and save whatever was left of the place, but i couldn’t bring myself to do it. JOHN: like some fucked up part of me was glad i got there too late? JOHN: so i just sat there, watching, trying to figure out why watching my house burn down felt like i was being released from prison. JOHN: and even now i keep trying to explain it away, as though it’s because of how fucked up everything else is that it made me feel good. JOHN: but that’s just bullshit. JOHN: it DID feel good. JOHN: i DO feel free. JOHN: sorry.

I was kind of saying some Breath/Blood stuff at the time of him losing his last tie to his stubborn sticking-to-his-kid-self bit? Except now we’re mixing it in with June Egbert and his gender-identity questions too.

ROXY: no need 2 apologize ROXY: we just delved in2 my whole gender thing last time so it seems fine for u to have a turn JOHN: i didn’t say it was a gender thing.

Oh shit

ROXY: well no i just meant like i did some sharing ROXY: like referrin 2 the topic i brought up when we chatted last ROXY: but like now that u mention it ROXY: *meaningful pause* JOHN: … JOHN: i JOHN: ROXY: lol well we can move on 2 the favor part if youd rather ROXY: stick a lil pin in that topic n come back 2 it when u have had sleep

Are you just INCREDIBLY incisive Roxy or have you and John talked about this before?

ROXY: like i said the other day its not like this shits figureoutable in 1 sitting anyways JOHN: yeah... ROXY: sooooooo ROXY: movin on

It’s just fine for Roxy to slow-roll this yeah, if she’s going to pry open that door a little

ROXY: dont be mad but theres a part of the house u didnt know abt the whole time u lived here JOHN: what? ROXY: yea ROXY: i got a secret lair ROXY: for my sciences

OH FUCK YES SCIENCE LAB, of COURSE Roxy would want a cool science lab basement because she always wants a cool science lab basement

ROXY: and i get to it via a transportalizer underneath our bed ROXY: which is 2 heavy 2 move by my lonesome so i just needed to borrow some o your aforementioned powers of wind

Okay no. Wait. What the fuck?

First of all, as funny and MSPaintAdventures-y as furniture being in the way of things is, why would you block it with a bed too heavy to move, but,

Second of all, more importantly, how is a GOD-TIER ROXY not strong enough to lift a heavy bed?!?!?!? Either she’s lying to get John involved in things or this is a gendered cop-out because these characters are superheroes at the TOP of their echeladders, given obnoxiously powerful video-game strength and athletics only to then have ascended into DEITIES. God-Tier Roxy could probably have lifted a bed like that when she was SEVENTEEN! And now she’s an ADULT, out-of-shape or otherwise! If this were a whole CAR I might be willing to handwave it, but just a heavy BED?!? And none of the GUYS are going to have this much trouble lifting a bed like this, are they?? This just feels like following classic cartoony gender tropes in the complete absence of these characters’ super powers, what the fuck, and also Roxy if you didn’t make it Transportalizer-only access you could have given it an entrance you could phase through with your fancy powers to get to. FUCK.

This feels stupid.

ROXY: so if u dont mind woosh away JOHN: uh ok, well... JOHN: a secret science lair, sure, i can deal with that. JOHN: why not! JOHN: it doesn’t work out great when i do the windy thing indoors, though. ROXY: aight then no wind bending just use your mangrit

Roxy flexes, the corner of her mouth pulled up into a familiar grin. John feels his guts, so recently calmed, twist up into knots again. Her eyebrows shoot up and the smile loosens. He must have shown something on his face.

You’re already THIS sensitive about gendertalk?

ROXY: ok or just like push when i push ROXY: we both got sick muscles ROXY: no other adjectives necessary JOHN: yeah ok. ROXY: on 3?

Please, please reinforce the idea that they both have sick strength, because they fucking do and the idea that Roxy actually a hundred percent NEEDED John to do this is BS.

> (==>)

JOHN: holy shit? ROXY: sorry to lop yet another huge scoop onto ur lil brains ice cream revelation sundae JOHN: so wait, if this thing's always been under the bed, how’d you get down here before without me? ROXY: well thats neither here nor there john JOHN: i mean it is kinda. Here. ROXY: fine ok checkmate ROXY: i dont ACTUALLY need ur nerdgrit for this escapade ROXY: like im sorry but i said it ROXY: i mostly just wanted to see you and show u wats down here

THANK FUCKING CHRIST.

If that wasn’t actually just a lie to get him involved I was going to stay SO mad. Of COURSE Roxy can move a fucking BED no matter how heavy it is. OF COURSE.

ROXY: and also uve been ~sent for~ JOHN: ok but like ROXY: john i am inviting u 2 my inner sanctum ROXY: i am literally bringing out the word "sanctum" in case u werent already clued in 2 how cool this is ROXY: so do u wanna go into my secret lair or wat JOHN: yeah!? JOHN: yes? i guess? ROXY: aight good

Yes John of course you want to stop fighting it

ROXY: then as they told me in the hospital before lil h a was born ROXY: just push

eyeroll, but yeah, of course

> (==>)

Oh cool, sprite form version of her loungewear.

> (==>)

Sorry for my compulsion to post every full-frame image of Roxy in this awesome outfi-WERE YOU KEEPING CALLIOPE UNDER YOUR BED THIS WHOLE TIME?!?????

That’s like... almost a fucking metaphor isn’t it???? For the relationship you preferred in the other timeline and possibly THIS one TOO or

ROXY: hey callieee i got him ROXY: o damn john sorry i shoulda also told u callies here weve been hangin out again ROXY: 1 more freak for ur bean

Oh huh, so this isn’t an always thing. And these two can get close in more than one timeline where it would’ve worked out nicely. :)

JOHN: oh it's ok, my bean feels pretty well adjusted to freakage at this point so keep them coming if you like! ROXY: k cool i will JOHN: do i get to know what that big thing under the sheet is? ROXY: hmmmmmm no JOHN: oh ok. JOHN: are you sure? i mean, it seems like a pretty prominent feature of the room. JOHN: space. JOHN: wherever we are. ROXY: and a totally mysterious n COMPLETELY inconspicuous feature it will have to remain for now ROXY: we r kinda in a hurry here fyi ROXY: and by that i mean ROXY: we are in precisely the amount of hurry that means im excused from having to a that specific q rn JOHN: right, sorry. JOHN: i will pay no attention to the object behind the curtain. ROXY: u catch on fast egbert ROXY: anyway theres more cool info coming so just follow me

I don’t have any big theories. Is it just the Hiveswap device or something? If Calliope helped with it it’d help explain the Cherubic theme.

> (==>)

JOHN: so... this is all downstairs? JOHN: it seems like you had a lot of work done. ROXY: well no not x actly ROXY: were in the old meteor JOHN: under the house??? ROXY: ok so ROXY: in hindsight it may have been a bit misleading 2 say like ROXY: "downstairs" ROXY: in reference to a place which is hells of buried underground and may not actually be literally under the house ROXY: but there is no time to explain all that rn john so instead im going to refer u to my adorable little green friend here CALLIOPE: #U_U# ROXY: (hehe) CALLIOPE: *AHEM* CALLIOPE: hi john! CALLIOPE: long time no see. ^u^

Cherubs just really like dark cavelike places full of weird tech don’t they.

> (==>)

THEY’RE SO CUTE

JOHN: oh, uh. hey callie! JOHN: it sure has been a while huh. JOHN: now that i think about it, the last time the three of us hung out like this... CALLIOPE: was when i was aggressively third wheeling yoUr prenUptial coUrtship? CALLIOPE: if yoU dont mind, john, i'd rather not rehash that period of oUr lives. CALLIOPE: it was more than a little painfUl for me. JOHN: oh. JOHN: god, jeez, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to-- CALLIOPE: hee hee john i am only pUlling yoUr leg, don't worry. CALLIOPE: if anything i was personally a little thrilled with how things shook oUt in that respect. CALLIOPE: imagine, if yoU will, a yoUng cherUb raised in solitUde, whose only solace was the convolUted and tUmUltUoUs romantic schemata she projected onto her only friends from another Universe. CALLIOPE: and then fUrther imagine that this yoUng cherUb, throUgh varioUs even *more* convolUted contrivances, ended Up in the company of those selfsafe friends as an eqUal participant in their sphere of social discoUrse! CALLIOPE: it is a joy the like of which yoU possibly cannot fathom. u_u

Reinforcing that things turning out this way was in fact the FANTASY that Calliope was writing over in the Canon timeline. Just, heavily, HEAVILY implied that the Candy timeline is -- or at least originated as -- Calliope’s fanfiction as a Muse of Space, and its competition for audience interest with canon is the essential conflict between alt!Calliope and Dirk (or Dirk and Andrew Hussie).

CALLIOPE: so to pUt it simply, getting to experience sUch emotional drama myself was an impossibly enriching experience. CALLIOPE: possibly a first for my species! CALLIOPE: it's actUally qUite interesting, if yoU ROXY: *nudge* CALLIOPE: oh, right. yes. i'm getting a little carried away, haha. CALLIOPE: argh, i'm sorry, this is not how i planned to begin this vital conversation.

Vital conversation? What sorta truth-bombs are coming?

CALLIOPE: but to sUmmarise, what i was trying to say is: CALLIOPE: don't beat yourself Up aboUt it john. CALLIOPE: besides, hUman divorces are even more fascinating than i had ever imagined, and being able to witness yoUrs in motion was an honoUr. CALLIOPE: so i consider Us aboUt even at this point. JOHN: hahaha!!! JOHN: okay, well that's good to know! CALLIOPE: ^u^

Holy SHIT that was savage! And we’ll NEVER know whether or not she really intended it so savagely, either.~

JOHN: so um... JOHN: i hear that there's this big secret thing you wanna tell me about? CALLIOPE: oh right, yes of course! CALLIOPE: let me jUst say first of all how thrilled i am that yoU're on board. CALLIOPE: i wasn't sUre if yoUr natUral inclinations woUld have preclUded yoUr coming to such a place as this, and yet here yoU are. CALLIOPE: this whole endeavoUr will be *so* mUch easier with yoUr help.

Uh oh.

Hopefully babies aren’t involved.

JOHN: oh! well, shucks. JOHN: not really sure what that means but i'm just glad to be of use somewhere, haha. JOHN: which, speaking of somewhere, CALLIOPE: ah right, right. yoU're probably a little cUrioUs as to where the dickens we are. CALLIOPE: how much do yoU know aboUt black holes? JOHN: um... like, the big space things? CALLIOPE: they aren't always big actUally, and in fact their relative smallness is practically their defining qUality. JOHN: oh. CALLIOPE: bUt okay i think we are on the same page. CALLIOPE: so, what if i told yoU that we are inside of a black hole right now.

Oh dear, we’re getting into the canon/noncanon divide?

JOHN: um... JOHN: like, HERE? JOHN: we just transportalized into a black hole? CALLIOPE: no, i mean, what if oUr whole WORLD was inside a black hole. JOHN: ok.

Yeah, that’s gonna be John’s reaction. “ok.” Pretty much inevitable.

CALLIOPE: earth c, or at least oUr version of it, has, from the moment we crossed the victory threshold, been inside a black hole. JOHN: ok. CALLIOPE: and not just any black hole, bUt the very black hole in which the green sUn Ultimately met its demise, allowing oUr victory in the first instance! JOHN: huh! ROXY: ("huh!") ROXY: (rofl my fucking ao egbert) JOHN: (shhhh!)

And Roxy enjoys his non-reaction reactions as much as we do, hehe.

CALLIOPE: bUt, paradoxically, the critical moment which determined its capture within the black hole happened *after* that point. CALLIOPE: i refer of coUrse to yoUr decision not to retUrn to the mediUm and fight my brother. JOHN: wait, wait. JOHN: you mean, the meat and candy thing? JOHN: oh my god. JOHN: you mean i actually DID make a mistake that day. CALLIOPE: well, that's not exactly what that-- JOHN: ugh, i fucking KNEW it! JOHN: i'm so sorry. JOHN: i'm so sorry that i put the earth inside a black hole everyone. ): ROXY: john ROXY: listen ROXY: u have got to get out of this mindset i am begging you JOHN: ):

Yeah shake him out of this shit.

ROXY: your choice literally didnt matter ROXY: the whole thing was symbolic in the first place ROXY: literally symbolic in the case of the picnic i mean come on ROXY: it was just some steak and a plate of candy suckers JOHN: oh. CALLIOPE: i mean, i wouldn't go so far as to say that the meal we shared was unimportant, given the sacred significance of the two options i presented. CALLIOPE: but yes, yoUr choice of snack was infinitely less important than the choice which it presaged. CALLIOPE: and even then, calling it a choice woUld be sorely misleading. CALLIOPE: think of it like a coin flip. CALLIOPE: the series of events that led to Us being trapped beyond the event horizon of an Ubermassive black hole could be considered "tails", while the events which would have occUrred otherwise could be considered "heads". CALLIOPE: since both were possible, and paradox space is the way it is, they actUally both happened. and we jUst "happened" (hee hee) to get tails instead of heads. JOHN: you mean we ended up with the bad possibility. CALLIOPE: not at all! since both possibilities depend on one another's existence, it really doesn't make sense to call them "right" or "wrong". they both just "are". JOHN: o...kay... CALLIOPE: u_u

Yeah, it’s going to take a bit more than that to convince him he didn’t make the “wrong decision”.

CALLIOPE: i realise that this may be a lot to process. CALLIOPE: it's easy to forget that this wasn't obvioUs to everyone from the beginning. CALLIOPE: anyway, the reason i went on this tangent in the first place was to explain that the space we are standing in right now has a special significance, in that it is the location which corresponds to the black hole's singUlarity. JOHN: oh, wow. JOHN: um. JOHN: ok so, sorry if this is a dumb question to ask suddenly, but what does being inside of a black hole actually... mean for us? JOHN: is that bad? JOHN: is it like in movie, um, JOHN: shoot. JOHN: roxy what was that matthew mcconaughey movie from your earth that we watched? ROXY: u mean interstellar JOHN: RIGHT. JOHN: the one with the organ. JOHN: man. i cried at that movie so much. ROXY: lol u can say that again ROXY: iirc at least part of y u got so weepy was the fact that u couldnt believe a version of earth existed where ppl got 2 watch more mcconaughey films than you JOHN: listen. JOHN: i simply don't think you all appreciated the gift you were given. CALLIOPE: i don't believe i'm familiar with this particular film ^u^;; ROXY: oh dont worry cal you didnt miss much JOHN: (gasp)

This is all gold

ROXY: but the important point is that no its not really an interstellar type situation here egbert ROXY: ur not gonna enter a weird time vortex and change the trajectory of a little girls life with the power of love JOHN: aw.

Dammit, now we have to be on the lookout for that possibility. Or it did sort of already happen more than once to John. ...Whatever.

CALLIOPE: to go back to your original question, john. CALLIOPE: it's not strictly speaking "bad" for Us to be inside of a black hole, mUch thoUgh that contradicts most of what anyone knows about them. CALLIOPE: of coUrse, if we had fallen into it, that woUld be a whole other kettle of fish. CALLIOPE: the tidal forces woUld have stretched Us all into spaghetti and then ripped us apart! CALLIOPE: bUt the natUre of oUr arrival was more akin to simply "being" here, sUddenly. one moment we were not, and the next moment we were, and somehow always had been. CALLIOPE: in everyday, practical terms, being inside of a black hole has very little bearing on Us. CALLIOPE: i mean, the natUre of space and time is a little finicky in here, bUt for the most part it doesn't seem to be anything too oUt of the ordinary. CALLIOPE: bUt beyond that, it means that we are sealed away from the rest of existence. CALLIOPE: oUr sphere of inflUence is limited to the sphere of the black hole's bounding horizon. CALLIOPE: as far as everyone else is concerned, we might as well not even exist! JOHN: is there no way we could let anyone know that we're in here...? CALLIOPE: almost certainly not!

No? So this doesn’t have to do with the divide?

CALLIOPE: there are very few ways for anything to escape the kind of predicament that we are in right now. one of them is to be an all-powerfUl being with control over the very fabric of space, with the energy of two Universes at yoUr disposal. CALLIOPE: in which case, escape woUld become rather trivial, if a little Unscientific. JOHN: ok. i am going to assume that we can't just do that. CALLIOPE: yoU've hit the nail on the head, UnfortUnately. U_U CALLIOPE: the method i described was the one employed by my alternate self, who yoU may recall crashed through the event horizon in the body that once belonged to jade harley. CALLIOPE: she departed through a pUnctUre she created in the black hole's surface shortly after consUming my brother, a deed which provided her with the necessary "oomph", and which was frankly rather breathtaking to watch. =u= CALLIOPE: bUt Upon her departUre, the rift closed for good. as far as i can see, there's simply no way for Us to commUnicate with the world oUtside the black hole.

What the heck? Calliope SAW all this? Is this her Muse powers at work, letting her observe these things, or was she there? And John certainly did NOT see ANY of what Calliope just said happen.

CALLIOPE: i woUld certainly be very sUrprised to find oUt that anyone had managed sUch a thing!

So we’re going to find that out if we haven’t already. Maybe something to do with the way Vrissy just conks out narcoleptically?

JOHN: ...right. JOHN: so... let me just get this straight. JOHN: knowing that we're inside of a black hole... does that actually change anything? JOHN: like, can't we just go on living like normal? CALLIOPE: oh absolUtely not. CALLIOPE: i don't know if yoU've noticed john bUt this world is on the brink of a total cataclysm. JOHN: oh.

Um, what?

CALLIOPE: oUr exclUsion from the overarching coUrse of events which governs all reality means that oUr existence here is liable to dramatic and violent Upheaval. CALLIOPE: to pUt it another way, becaUse nothing in here "matters", we are likely to be sUbjected to things which are a bit bats in the belfry, for no reason other than it's totally insignificant to the wider canon of reality. CALLIOPE: and mUch thoUgh i am personally titillated by some of the conseqUences of this predicament, it is a degrading way for Us to live. u_u JOHN: that's... certainly one way to put it, yeah...

No plot-armor for your entire timeline, I guess, yep. Outside of canon, we can imagine and write about ANYTHING happening to the characters, or just drop their existence entirely, much like a doomed offshoot timeline. It’s a plot stability that depended heavily on the threat of Lord English and being trapped in a story, and without it things are bound to see a BIT chaotic (or “degrading” if you view it as subjected to the whims of fanfic writers, certainly).

CALLIOPE: at first, i believed that this was simply necessary. Us playing tails to oUr coUnterparts' heads, the black to their white, and so forth. CALLIOPE: bUt over the years i have come to the conclUsion that this is simply not kosher. ROXY: its total bs is what it is CALLIOPE: right, yes. CALLIOPE: a steaming pile of bUllshite. CALLIOPE: and so we have decided that something needs to be done aboUt it.

Ah fuck. You’re going to regulate non-canon? “Canonize” it? Is the fact that you eventually succeed at whatever it is you’re trying to do part of why we have the story presented to us in this bifurcated structure?

ROXY: this is finally where u come in jegbert ROXY: we gots quests for yous CALLIOPE: hee hee, yes. CALLIOPE: or *a* quest, to be specific. JOHN: oh boy! ROXY: (this fkin nerd i s2g)

Roxy and Calliope setting him on this quest as a Rogue of Void and a Muse of Space feels fitting.

JOHN: i'm not sure how i can go about freeing us from a hellish space prison, but i'm up for giving it a try i guess? JOHN: i have... literally nothing better to be doing at this point. except for maybe hanging out with harry anderson. ROXY: nice save lol

YEAH WE’RE STILL GLOSSING OVER HOW YOU LEFT HIM UNPROTECTED, JERK

ROXY: but u dont need to worry abt busting us outta space jail tbh ROXY: thats not ur problem to fix JOHN: oh. JOHN: i'm... not sure i follow, then. ROXY: i mean yeah ur gonna obvs facilitate it in a sense ROXY: but only by going and busting the person who can actually help us outta normal earth jail CALLIOPE: we need yoU to free vriska from the clUtches of oUr misgUided friend jane, and bring her here, to the singUlarity. ROXY: weve been calling it the plot point CALLIOPE: yes, the plot point is a key part of oUr plan. CALLIOPE: as far as we have been able to sUrmise, the only remaining method for escaping oUr grim confinement depends on leveraging the UniqUe properties of this location to create an event of sUch catalcysmic proportions that it simply cannot be contained within the black hole any more. CALLIOPE: something SO dramatic, so hyper-relevant, that it becomes ontologically impossible for anyone to ignore it. CALLIOPE: for that, we need an individUal of sUfficient narrative cloUt, so to speak. CALLIOPE: and to liberate her, who better than the embodiment of the aspect of freedom itself? CALLIOPE: ... CALLIOPE: phew. okay, i'm finished. CALLIOPE: CALLIOPE: sorry, that took longer than i expected to go throUgh.

..............................

OOooooh, kay.

Whatever this is, it’s going to be really weird and PROBABLY infuriating and/or shippy, and I’m probably not going to like it. Plus it seems like it’s some sort of inverse belated canonization of some other black-hole-rescue theories I went on about at some point. Although, related to that link, “aspect of freedom” if anyone wasn’t paying attention! That’s a (sorta-)canon mention of the purpose of it!

They’re going to attention-wh-- attention-hog themselves out of the black hole so that they’re “considered canon” too, or close enough. Huh.

ROXY: what r u talking about cals that was great ROXY: i could listen 2 u plotsplain for years CALLIOPE: oh you >u< ROXY: fyi this was why i wanted u to get a move on eggbread ROXY: so callie could have more time 2 infodump ROXY: thats love bitchhhhhh JOHN: hahaha. JOHN: ok, well, i think i understood all that?

Love with who? Callie, John, both?

In reality, John isn’t sure what most of this means. But on balance, it feels okay? He’s gone back and forth about a hundred times in the last week about where his place in everything is, so he might as well ride this out. Plus, the last time a Lalonde kind of told him to do something, he thinks that he chose not to, and look where that got him. And it’s not like he has other plans. He may as well do this! It’s at least going to get him involved in things again, if nothing else. He turns to go, and then hears a sound. It’s the sound of feet and knocking on doors, echoed through stone and digital static.

Oh shit. Is Andrew trapped behind some fourth walls behind the curtains.

> (==>)

Oh RIGHT also that DEVICE is where they want to bring Vriska. Are they going to overturn part of canon itself with a super-retcon thus making this timeline unbelievably relevant or--? Maybe make all the PESTERQUESTS canon or something?! I don’t know. Maybe they’re INTENTIONALLY starting the game like Vriska wanted to??????

Guh, this is something so big that I don’t WANT to theorize about it, do I.

JOHN: did you hear that? ROXY: wha ROXY: oh yeah uh ROXY: i may have messaged rose and kan and jade to check on them too ROXY: so its prob onea them showin up ROXY: they don’t need to know bout all this tho ROXY: we got time to chat with them b4 u go get vriska

No, even if it’s a knock at the somehow-top-level-house-even-under-buried-- oh, right, maybe it’s covering in part a monitoring system that looks up there. But still, part of that sound was DOUBTLESS these two hiding something, all standing in front of the curtain like that.

JOHN: i’ll go stall em. ROXY: thx babe ROXY: oh is it 2 soon for that joke or JOHN: no, weirdly enough, that one’s fine. ROXY: oh good ok see u up there soon!

How is calling your significant other “babe” not cool REGARDLESS of gender?! Like wasn’t that always cool? --Oh wait is it because they’re not together or... but... guh, I don’t know.

Anyway, see y’all after the holidays at least.

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #spoiler #spoilers #Roxy Lalonde #John Egbert #Calliope

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myherowritings · 5 years

Text

slip of the tongue

— overview: during a charity interview with the top three heroes, deku and shouto “accidentally” give away ground zero’s crush on you. you’re asked about bakugou in an interview of your own and, during a fit of excitement, accidentally let your crush on him slip.

— pairing: pro hero!bakugou katsuki x [fem]pro hero!reader

— word count: 2.2k

— genre: pro hero au, celebrity crush au vibes, fluff

— author’s note: [y/h/n = your hero name] this is literally so self-indulgent i’m sorry but this was so much fun to write lolol. i hope you give in and enjoy this fic with me ;)

“Being a Pro Hero can call for a taxing lifestyle. You work day in and day out and, even during your vacations, it’s hard to catch a real break.” The interviewer waited for the three of them to nod before continuing, “Do you have any advice for young, aspiring heroes on how to balance work and personal wellbeing?”

“That’s a tough one,” Midoriya replied, tilting his head to the side as he thought of his answer. “Being a hero requires a lot of time and sacrifice, and sometimes it’s difficult to remember to take care of yourself in such a high stress environment. But if Aizawa-sensei taught us anything during our years at U.A., it’s that…”

Deku continued to talk on and on and Bakugou found himself counting the number of threads present on the arm of the sofa.

For the majority of the interview, Katsuki sat near the edge of the couch ready to bolt out of his seat. His manager claimed the special “Top Three” interview was a good way to raise money for charity, but he was almost certain it was simply a thinly veiled publicity stunt and an extra way for the crew to bring cash to their own pockets.

“To be honest, I’m still trying to figure that out myself,” said Todoroki after a long pause, inciting loud cheers and deep sighs from the audience.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes. That fucker could say he ate nail clippings for breakfast and the response would be the same.

So far, the interview had consisted of Deku blabbing on until the host directed the conversation elsewhere, Shouto piping in with a stupid comment in a low drawl that made the entire audience swoon, and Ground Zero almost bursting with annoyance at the vain questions asked.

(The question the host asked Midoriya was probably the most--if not only--question of substance. The rest were about who was dating who, how long did it take to develop such toned muscles, and other bullshit he didn’t care for.)

He found himself zoning out until Todoroki nudged him on the side.

With a blink, Bakugou turned to the interviewer who cleared his throat with a nervous chuckle.

“As I was saying…” started the host, trying to find his words. “You guys are the Top Three everyone is striving to become, but are there any heroes that inspire you? An individual who stands out as someone you trust to keep Japan safe?”

Midoriya nodded fervently, a sparkle lighting up his eye as he began to speak. “Plenty! It’s not possible to choose just one. There are so many heroes I’ve met along the way that helped make me the person I am today--”

And that’s when Bakugou stopped paying attention.

Not for lack of interest, per se, but simply because he’s heard Deku say this millions of times before. Everyone other time he opens his damn mouth, it’s to shout praises of any quirk someone possesses.

“...but ever since our U.A. years, I’ve always had a good feeling about Y/H/N.”

And that’s when Bakugou started paying attention again.

His neck snapped towards Izuku at the mention of your name and Todoroki stifled an amused snort.

You met them as a student in U.A., exactly two grades below theirs. Like Half-and-Half, you got accepted through recommendations and easily blew everyone in your class away during the Sports Festival.

Bakguou didn’t give a single fuck about you back then. He thought you were a spoiled princess who had her life handed to her on a silver platter, but as long as you didn’t get in his way, you weren’t important enough to worry about. But years have passed and, through a variety of encounters during hero training and internships, he began to realize maybe you weren’t all that bad.

In fact, you were rather...admirable.

He grimaced at the thought.

“I’m quite fond of her as well,” said Shouto, a small smile on his face as he met the audience’s captivated gaze. “She makes the best cold soba. And the control she has over her quirk is impressive.”

Katsuki snorted. “Glad to know your priorities are in check.”

“Making good soba is a noteworthy talent,” defended the interviewer, head halfway up Icy Hot’s ass. “And what about you, Ground Zero. We only have a few minutes left together, but are there any young heroes who caught your eye?”

He shrugged. “There’s--”

“He’s mentioned Y/H/N before, too,” Todoroki answered for him, sharing a look with Midoriya. “In the break room earlier, the news channel was on and Ground Zero had his eyes glued to the screen when she appeared.”

Izuku hummed in agreement. “And he wouldn’t stop talking about how powerful and pretty she looked during her debut as a Pro--”

“For fuck’s sake, I told you not to tell--”

“Sir, language! This is a live recording.”

Bakugou glared at the host for interrupting, then gave an even harsher glare to Deku and Icy Hot for opening their big mouths. Shouto quirked his head to the side, peering at him with an oblivious look that Katsuki wanted to punch off his face. Izuku simply avoided his gaze, taking a sip from his glass of water.

Todoroki blinked. “The more I think about it, the more it seems Ground Zero might actually like Y/H/N.”

Midoriya spluttered out the remnants of the drink in his mouth, coughing uncontrollably as his face reddened. He glanced nervously at Bakugou to check his reaction and gulped. Katsuki’s left eye was twitching and the crackling noise of the nitroglycerin on his hands igniting grew louder.

“Ah, S-Shouto?” Deku said with a forced chuckle, trying to take control the situation. He turned to the audience. “I-I think what he means to say is that Ground Zero likes Y/H/N...as a person. Right?”

Todoroki looked confused. “No? I meant that he likes her and wants to--”

Izuku clamped a hand over Shouto’s mouth and Bakugou jumped up from his seat, sparks flying off of his forearms. So much for being stupid enough to trust these idiots with his personal feelings ever again.

“ARE YOU A FUCKING MORON OR--?!”

“And that’s all we have time for today, folks!” the interviewer interrupted, desperately trying to take the attention away from the chaos unfolding in front of him. Midoriya placed himself between Bakugou and Bakugou’s newfound target, and the audience had their phones at the ready. The host let out a strangled cry. “A big thank you to Deku, Shouto, and Ground Zero for all that they do for Japan. Now, please-- Just leave! And tune in next time on JNN!”

- - - - -

“We’ve had an amazing time tonight with you here,” the host paused, smiling as the audience cheered, “but before our time comes to an end, there is one last thing I think we’re all dying to know.”

“Of course!” you said with a smile, crossing one leg over the other as you leaned towards him intently. “I’m all ears.”

You could’ve sworn his cheeks turned pink with a swoon before continuing. “Ahem. A few days ago, we had the Top Three heroes visit the studio for an exclusive interview.”

At the mention of the Top Three, you almost bounced out of your seat in excitement. You had known them since high school, yet you continued to be starstruck at the intelligence and talent they brought to the field. Just hearing about their accomplishments pushed you to strive to become a better hero.

“I heard! I haven’t watched it yet, but I really need to,” you exclaimed, a bright smile on your face. “I look up to them all so much and they’re such a joy to be around. The interview must’ve been so fun!”

The host muttered, “Fun… That’s a way to put it.”

You let out an awkward chuckle.

As if just now remembering the camera was rolling, he cleared his throat and straightened in his seat. “Yes, they were certainly a joy to be around. There was never a dull moment with them, to say the least.”

“Right…”

“And when they were here, they told us which talented young heroes they admired.” He gave you a pleasant smile. “Your name just so happened to be at the top of their lists.”

Your eyes felt like they were going to bulge out of their sockets. The Top Three admired you? “R-Really?”

“Yes, really. Deku said he had a good feeling you were going to make it big, ever since U.A. Shouto even said he liked the cold soba you made him,” the interviewer said and you flushed.

You were a big fan of Todoroki’s ever since his Sport’s Festival performance during his first year. Of course you had to make him his favorite food any chance you could. And Midoriya-- There were no words to describe how much you looked up to someone so powerful yet so… good. There was simply no one else quite like him.

“But what was even more interesting was what we heard from Ground Zero.”

Now, while you looked up to and loved Deku and Shouto, Ground Zero had a special place in your heart.

You looked up to him as well, there was no denying that, but lately your feelings felt like something more than admiration. The more encounters you had with Bakugou, the less you viewed him as the same arrogant (and annoyingly powerful) kid from U.A. No-- He was different now. Big-headed at times? Yes. But there was a kindness and warmth deep inside him you never quite noticed until recently.

“What did he say?” you asked, hoping your voice wasn’t as jittery as you felt.

“Well, he really admires your talent and strength, as well as the hard work and effort you put into being a Pro Hero.” The host drummed his fingertips along the desk as he sang your praises. Leaning closer to you, he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “And--just between you and me--Shouto and Deku let it slip that he wouldn’t stop talking about you after your debut as a Pro, either. Ground Zero seems to be absolutely entranced by your presence on screen.”

Every logical part of you knew this man was exaggerating for the sake of show business, but you were too ecstatic to really care.

This was Bakugou fucking Katsuki he was talking about. Ground Zero himself!

You could hardly contain your excitement as you practically bounced in your seat. “He admires me?” You shook your head. “That can’t be possible! He’s one of the best heroes the world has! Deku may be ranked number one--and he absolutely deserves it--but Ground Zero has always been a personal favorite of mine.”

Your interviewer raised his eyebrows at your admission. “Is that so?”

“Most definitely!” you said with a zealous nod. “He’s always so determined and passionate in everything he does. Ground Zero’s a natural born hero, but that doesn’t stop him from pushing himself everyday to be the very best he could possibly be. He…inspires me, really.”

“That sounds like a little more than inspiration to me,” replied the host with a thinly veiled smirk.

You felt your cheeks heat up and, if you had Bakugou’s quirk, you knew you’d be popping off some nitroglycerin at the embarrassment. The interviewer couldn’t possibly expose you for having a crush on a certain Pro Hero, right?

“I… Ah-- What do you mean?” you coughed out.

“Oh, nothing,” he said simply, enjoying the doe-eyed expression on your face a little too much. “Well, I hate to end such an amazing interview, but that’s all the time we have for today! Thank you so much, Y/H/N, and tune in next time on JNN!”

- - - - -

“So, I heard you might have a small crush on me.”

“Tch.”

“Or did the interviewer totally blow it out of proportion and now I’m just making a fool of myself?”

“Pfft.”

“Oh, my God, I’d be mortified if--”

“Is now really the time to talk about this?!” Bakugou grunted in a strained voice. His ears were a bright red as you continued to move closer to him.

You blinked up at him innocently. “What do you mean?”

There was a crashing noise behind you as Ground Zero took down a dismembered, yet fully mobile, appendage of the Storm Villain, Karmegan. When another came up behind you, he stretched his hands out to do his famous AP Shot and you almost swooned on the spot when he aimed the perfect circle.

“I mean maybe we can talk about us after we defeat all these loser mutants?”

“Loser?!” the villain roared shooting off another army of appendage-sized mutants in your direction.

Easily dodging his attack, you retaliated with your long range specialty move and looked at Bakugou with a smile.

“So, what I’m hearing is there is an ‘us’?”

“Are you trying to flirt with me while we save Musutafu?” he asked. When you nodded sheepishly, he snorted in begrudging amusement. “That’s some nerve you’ve got there, pipsqueak.”

Bakugou punched Karmegan, who came up from your back, and gave you a slight smirk.

“How about after we survive this attack, I take you out on a date?”

The grin on your face was almost uncontrollable as you took out an enemy behind him. Katsuki ducked right as you kicked, in perfect synchronization.

“Sounds like a plan, Ground Zero.”

“We better end this quickly then, Y/H/N,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Now I’m looking forward to our date.”

4K notes · View notes

liquorisce · 4 years

Text

... tell me i’m beautiful?

pairing: royai, roy mustang x riza hawkeye

fandom: Full Metal Alchemist (Brotherhood/Manga)

summary: on some nights Riza is delicate. and Roy is possessive. (warning: unhealthy amounts of pining.) (also havoc is a good friend) 3677 words.

a/n: i saw on my tumblr feed that it’s fma day (3.10) (the day when the greatest angst of our generation was born), and i was hit with major feels for full metal alchemist. it truly is one of the greatest stories of our generation. anyway, here is some old royai from my wip notes that i had to dust the cobwebs off of (that my anxious ass never had the balls to post). my writing style has changed over the years, but my heart is still so full for these two, so it was fun to rewrite.

The buzz around the Eastern Headquarters is that one of the Top ranks is getting hitched and that it’s going to be a fancy affair, traditional with a masquerade ball.

When Roy sees an invite in his post, he’s rather surprised. But the wedding is in Central and it’s an excuse to see his best friend, so it doesn’t seem so bad after all.

“Lieutenant,” he asks, just as she is about to leave for the day, “what’s all this I hear about a ball at the General’s wedding?”

“It seems we must be accompanied with a date, Sir. You received the invitation four weeks ago.” He detects some annoyance in her words, but he lets it pass, because his brain has begun to imagine Hawkeye in a dress, especially one of those grand, frilly ones.

“Then you will accompany me.”

It was acceptable, the way he states it like it’s the obvious course of action, because he is her superior after all. But it also ticks her off, that he expects it, without even bothering to ask. She may be his subordinate but there are times when she wishes he would just see her as a woman.

“That won’t be possible, Sir.”

She is just as shocked with her own coldness as he is, his eyebrows twitching in question.

“I’m afraid I’ve already promised Havoc I would go as his date.”

His eyes narrow and she sees a flicker of emotion awash in the dark of his eyes and she almost feels as if she’s done something wrong.

But she hasn’t, and she will not apologise. She clenches her fist.

“Ah,” he drawls, not missing a beat, “have you decided what to wear yet?”

That wasn’t the question she was expecting and it throws her off balance.

“I,” she pauses for a moment, to regain her composure, “I haven’t thought about it yet.”

She doesn’t want to engage in his banter anymore, because there are feelings involved - mostly hers, and they are irrational, she thinks - and expectations, expectations that have no basis but are yet difficult to do away with. So she hastens to the door.

He’s quiet for a minute, but because he can’t help himself, he murmurs, “… You should wear green. It suits you."

…

She ends up wearing a dress, it’s slinky, tighter than the clothes she’s used to, slipping past her knees. Somehow she finds herself in heels, black strapped ones she’s borrowed from a friend that she clearly cannot walk in. It lacks the comfort of her boots but she deals with it, because apparently this is the price that comes along with looking pretty.

The dress is borrowed too, but she doesn’t miss the fact that out of all the dresses Rebecca paraded as options, she reached for the dark green one. … Apparently it suited her.

At least that is what she is assured of when Havoc comes to pick her up, his eyes popping in surprise when he sees her.

"Wow,” he let’s out a loose whistle, “you clean up real good, don’t you?"

She blushes and it’s another rare sight. "The Hawkeye blushing?” He teases, “I’ve got to be dreaming."

They make their way to the wedding and Havoc dives headfirst to the bar. She isn’t surprised. She looks around, her eyes seeking whom she had stubbornly decided not to care about and she sees him with a woman - obviously - hanging onto his every word.

An officer of sorts, she guesses, but not from their division, because Roy has unleashed his charm, his eyes twinkling flirtatiously.

She averts her eyes to the bar and to her date, who despite his melancholy has ordered an extra drink for her, a cocktail which he swears is the best he’s ever had. The thought of alcohol seems far more appealing than watching her superior with yet another woman.

…

"Did you want to dance, Lieutenant?"��

She’s a few drinks down, he’s had even more and his words are beginning to slur.

"I’m sorry,” he says and he sounds genuinely remorseful. “I just… I can’t get her out of my head."

She pats his head comfortingly and he slumps a little on the counter. "You loved her that much?"

He nods gloomily and Riza pretends to ignore the glisten of his eyes. Havoc’s eyes rest on the newly married couple, a little envious of the ingenuity of their smiles.

"You know, I actually thought we would make it there."

He doesn’t have to say it but Riza knows he’s talking about the altar, of dreams of marriage that he harboured for his ex-girlfriend. He was painful to watch these past few weeks, ever since Rebecca ended things with him, and when he asked her to the wedding, she couldn’t help but agree.

Besides, she had made sure Roy had seen the invitation days ago and if he hadn’t asked her by then, it was quite likely he never would.

"I’m sure you’ll find someone else,” she says comfortingly. “Even we soldiers are allowed to be happy eventually.” She isn’t sure she believes it, but for someone as pure as Havoc, surely fate can be kinder.

He tries his best to put on a smile, nodding with the optimism in her words. “Well hopefully I find happiness before my hair turns grey,” he jokes, making her giggle.

It feels nice, letting her hair down with a friend, even though she would rather let her hair and a lot of other things down with a certain someone else, but she tries not to think of it.

When she turns, the smile is wiped clean off her face, because her gaze catches the eyes of that same someone else, eyes dark as night, hair even darker, swept back to show off the handsome angles of his face. He is with someone else, a pretty brunette with her back bare and his hand splayed on it, and they are moving to the music but his eyes are on her, intense, questioning… reprimanding her almost.

For what? She thinks heatedly, he has no right to look at her like that, like he’s displeased with her, when she cannot even express just how unhappy she is with him.

“But seriously, Lieutenant,” Havoc says, hesitating for a moment, but choosing honesty, “you look amazing tonight. I must be the envy of every man in here."

She lets herself bask in his appreciative gaze and her cheeks heat up. "You really think so?"

He nods, smiling at her. "You sound surprised. A woman like you must be used to such compliments, isn’t it?”

She laughs ruefully. Compliments? She couldn’t remember the last time a man had ever called her pretty. At least not since she entered the military. “You’re the first, Havoc."

His mouth almost gaped open in surprise.

She went on, her frustration further driven by the alcohol in her blood. "No one’s ever even asked me out,” she says, helplessly. “Sure, there had been a few men who seemed interested, but even they never tried to take things further."

The Lieutenant didn’t date, everyone knew that. But listening to her open up about it, doubting herself, he felt for her.

Because he was one of those men too, a long, long time ago.

He remembers when he first joined the unit, newly assigned to Eastern, full of smiles.

The place really was swarming with beautiful women, just as he had heard. He figured he would get on here just fine.

And when he first entered the office of the Major Roy Mustang whom he was assigned to, he thought his heart was going to stop.

He had never seen anyone like her, young, strong, leaning over the table and giving the Major a piece of her mind. She scolded him like she had the authority to, and he listened, even though there was a formal apology attached to her rant in the end.

He was stunned, unable to do anything but watch when she turned around and stalked out of the room, because the view from the front was even better than behind, a round heart-shaped face framed in short blonde hair, deep brown eyes and a body that would make anyone’s thoughts stain the darkest shade of impurity.

Life, of course, had very different plans for them, even though they got closer, just like he wished. One afternoon, Rebecca walked into the office and threw her arms around Riza, and Havoc soon learnt that love was far more nuanced than admiration at first sight.

"At first I thought it was the uniform,” she confesses, “I thought maybe I was just scaring the men away."

You have no idea, he thinks, sighing. Riza Hawkeye was made of fire, and it turned men on even if they were afraid of being burnt by it.

"But my friend Jessica had absolutely no problem when it came to this sort of thing."

She casts her eyes lower, twirling the remnants of her whiskey. "Maybe there’s just something wrong with me."

Her lips lift up in a sardonic grin. "I’m a pretty pathetic Lieutenant, huh?” She rests her forehead against the counter. “I can’t believe I’m here at a wedding, crying over men.” Sighing, she murmurs, “I suppose these feelings are par for course when you have couples dancing all around you."

He rests his hand over the back of her head, ruffling the softness of her locks. "It isn’t pathetic,” he murmurs comfortingly, “You’re only human, after all. We’re all just idiots who want nothing more than to be loved."

He leaves out the part where he willingly offers himself up for the job, spurred a little by his already broken heart and embers of a decade-old attraction that never went away. He could make her feel special, take her out on all the dates she feels she missed out on, tell her she’s beautiful till she never doubts it ever again. It would be a selfish distraction, but Havoc is a romantic, and maybe, just maybe, it would lead them down a different path to happiness.

But he remembers what made him give up that mission in the first place, all those years ago, cold, blazing eyes that delivered a threat far worse than his words.

"There will be no fraternisation within this unit,” he had stated calmly before even Havoc had gotten a chance to admit to it himself. “If I find out you’ve laid a hand on her, I will have you transferred out of Eastern before you know it."

Back then he didn’t know if Major Roy Mustang even had that sort of power. But something else told him that if he didn’t listen it would be his burnt corpse they would be carrying out of Eastern.

Even now Havoc knows it’s useless, that he cannot even comfort her the way he really wants to, because he knows his eyes are here, they don’t leave her, always watching from the corner, staking claim.

"Thanks Havoc,” she says, trying for warm but still sounding miserable, lacing her fingers with his for a brief second in appreciation of his effort to make her feel better.

He sighs. “Would you mind if I went outside for a smoke?” They didn’t allow smoking in the ballroom, and his cravings had kicked in three drinks ago.

“Sure,” she says, “I’ll come with you."

He looks surprised because the Lieutenant has never approved of his smoking, but he thinks maybe she would prefer it to her own company tonight.

But when she tries to stand it’s like the blood has drained from her head, and she falters. Gingerly, she rubs a hand to her forehead.

"On second thought, I think I’ll stay here.” She gets back onto her seat, “I’ve had too much to drink."

"Will you be alright?” He asks, and it is more out of courtesy than anything else because he knows that if she isn’t, he will be by her side in seconds to take care of her.

She assures him she’s fine, that a drink of water will make everything better, even though fine is far from what she feels. Having let out her feelings, she doesn’t feel the light headedness that most claim, just empty and dejected because it is more than just never being told she’s pretty or going out on dates. If only her sorrows were as commonplace as wishing for love. If only she didn’t desire a very specific love. A love she will never have.

“Excuse me,” she mumbles to the waiter,“ could I have a glass of water please?"

He hurries away to get it and she rests her head against the counter. As she closes her eyes, she wonders how they do it, all those women he talks to, all the willing females he engages with. Is it all the giggling?

Does Roy like it if his women show a lot of skin? She remembers the woman from earlier, pale pink fabric shimmering off her dainty frame. Or maybe he likes the petite ones.

She sighs dejectedly. At 5'5”, she had curves that filled out every inch of her uniform and a full chest that had been a major cause of discomfort during military school. She was anything but petite.

In the end what bothers her most is that it probably doesn’t matter if she isn’t skinny or she doesn’t wear clothes that dip to the small of her back. Military rules state they couldn’t be together and it seems Roy wasn’t the least bit tempted to break them.

“I’m afraid all the dancing has made my head spin,” he tells her. “It was really lovely to have the pleasure of your company…” He pauses at the end, awkward because he just spent the last 40 minutes dancing her in circles but he can’t, for the love of God, remember her name.

“It’s Elizabeth,” she purrs, laughing, “You’re just like the rumours say, Colonel! So terrible with names."

She comes closer, her breath damp on the shell of his ear, "And so incredibly handsome."

"I’m flattered,” he says, untangling himself from her, smiling the way he knows is probably misleading, but in this situation it’s polite.

He can’t quite explain it but he is struck by this inexplicable urge to see his own Elizabeth, a sharp contrast to this one’s dark hair and light eyes, her beauty stemming from self-respect that is sorely lacking in most of the women that threw themselves at him.

He can’t pretend that he’s a saint and that there haven’t been a few that have followed him into bed, but there is nothing more than frustration at play here, a compromise of sorts where he can make believe that the girl in front of him is one with pale hair that shimmers and eyes that would always show him the light.

Where he can dream that the lips he kisses are the same bow shaped ones that admonish him at work.

Looking over at the bar counter, he sees that she’s still there, this time with Havoc nowhere to be seen. There’s a small, selfish part of him that rejoices in this fact, because their intimacy and hand-holding had him seeing red a little while ago.

It isn’t fair that he wants her like this, so irrationally and so selfishly, he knows it, but he can’t stop himself from this desire and he knows it often scares men away from her.

He knows there have been times when he has deliberately scared men off of her. He wonders how she would react if she learns of it. Would she have preferred their affections?

When he comes closer he sees that her head is resting on the counter, eyes closed. “Lieutenant,” he calls, but she doesn’t stir. Roy is known to be a little paranoid when it comes to his aide and the tension creeps onto his face, furrowing it’s way between his eyebrows.

He tries calling her again, this time placing his hand on her shoulder and shaking her gently. Her head turns to the side and he can see that her mouth is parted slightly and her breaths are even.

Has she… Passed out?! Laughing to himself, he occupies the seat beside her, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes and tucks it behind her ear. He could happily stay like this forever, wrapped up in the softness of her hair and skin, watching her without interruption as she sleeps. There’s a mole just under her ear, a tiny black little thing and he wonders if he could reach down and kiss it. It would be quick, no one would ever know it.

He could press his lips to her skin, touch his tongue to her earlobe, take it between his teeth maybe, the way he’s always wanted to when they are alone in his office and he is tempted to misuse his rank.

He gives in to this sweet compulsion and bends down, lips pressing ever so lightly against the mark.

She smells sweet, of the lavender she’s been partial to ever since she was a teenager, wrapped in this very same fragrance when she would finish her shower.

Roy knows this because every time she would be anywhere nearby his attention as an apprentice would falter, often earning him rebukes from her father.

He had promised himself just one, but it’s a promise ill-kept because his lips inch further along her jawline, featherlight brushes of temptation going against everything he has worked for.

But what good is his ambition when all it brings him is turmoil, and this cruel deprivation of her? When all he feels every day when he looks at her is longing, immense and painful, to the point of desperation.

Reason loses it’s shine further when he can feel her pulse flutter, and the softest murmur of his name brushes his ear.

“Roy,” she mumbles and it’s so maddening, the effect his name on her lips has, he considers giving her orders to never address him Colonel ever again, “I wore green. Just like you told me to.”

His eyes widen, remembering the day he’d asked her to accompany him. She had this look in her eyes, disappointment, frustration - or was it disgust - and he dared to hope she’d go with it anyway, but she didn’t. And the feeling of rejection, of being rejected by Riza, isn’t one he can shake so easily.

“What?” She had asked confused, when the statement he hadn’t intended to say out loud - he liked her in green, and that was something he kept secret, it brought out her eyes - had clearly been heard. “It suits you,” he’d said simply, and her temper had flared. Narrowing her eyes, she had said, “What I choose to wear is none of your business, Sir."

She’d emphasized the last word with as much sarcasm as one could possibly fit into one syllable.

He had laughed that day… a frustrated laugh, but now seeing that she actually listened to him, he thinks maybe what he thought mattered much more than what she let on.

"I even wore heels,” she whispers, still drunk, slurring the s’s.

“You did,” he says slowly, because he noticed, just like he notices everything, the way it made her legs look endless, the way it made her hips sway when she walked in with Havoc. He runs an idle finger across her cheek.

“Do I look pretty, Colonel?"

When she speaks these words, he hears the uncertainty behind the pink lips that she licks, barely inches from his.

He could tell her that yes, she’s pretty, but he’d rather show her. With kisses sweeping all over her body, and caresses earning soft sighs from her full mouth.

He could.

And he almost does.

He almost kisses her, full on the mouth, tongue flicking across hers, telling her that pretty is an understatement and that the first time he saw her, he was already mesmerised.

But he is mindful of their surroundings, not wanting to cause her any further disrespect by acting out the increasingly lewd fantasies churning in his mind. Because he doubts a kiss would stay just that, a kiss and nothing more, not when it is Riza underneath him, lips pliant and sweet, testing his restraint.

"Havoc,” he says harshly when he comes to realise the looming figure behind him, keeping his distance but well within hearing radius. “Take her home."

He’s surprised at first, because he was sure he had witnessed something deeper, more intimate between those two tonight. Havoc had seen the Colonel flush, and stroke her skin tenderly, the Lieutenant’s eyes dazed and gazing at him with blatant desire.

"Sir, sh-shouldn’t you?” He stutters, clearly asking something inappropriate and out of turn but he can’t help it. There is no one in the entire hall who could have missed the palpable chemistry between the two of them.

But he doesn’t say anything, just shakes his head, his eyes dark and stormy, and tells him to make sure she has a glass of water before she’s put to bed.

When Havoc walks her out, one hand around her waist and the other firmly holding her arm around his shoulder he realises that he’s a bit irritated with this years-old game of hide-and-seek. His broken heart was urging him to slap some sense into the Colonel and yell, because people who’ve found love - the real kind - have no business denying it.

“I think it should be fairly clear by now why you so rarely get propositioned by men,” he says dryly.

She makes a noise, questioning, barely able to take in his sarcasm or even his words for that matter, as her eyes droop shut.

He takes in the rare sight of a defenseless Hawkeye clinging to his arm and his mouth turns up with the hint of a smile.

“… It isn’t that no one’s interested,” he whispers, “just that everybody knows they wouldn’t stand a chance. Not against him.”

- fin -

#royai #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #full metal alchemist: brotherhood #full metal alchemist #liquorisce fanfiction #fmab

30 notes · View notes

purelyfiction · 3 years

Text

Title: The Return of A Royal

Summary: Din had agreed to take a break from the boundless jumping from planet to planet, and so the group gathers what they need to stake out for a few days, figure out a way to find the information they needed without wasting so much fuel. When they land on their chosen destination Mari finds wonder in the planet, taking her time to relax, finding that the Mandalorian doesn't seem to know the meaning of the word. She decides to return the favor of bike lessons by teaching him how to find calm and to clear his mind for once.

Word Count: 5,328 (I DON’T KNOW HOW I DID IT EITHER SO DON’T ASK)

TW: this chapter is honestly my favorite so far there’s so much !! important stuff !! in it !! i think the length is based off of the fact i drew concept art for the chapter and then fell in love sooooo yep. completely PG chapter but it is beyond wholesome so !! enjoy !

Chapter 8: Made to Fall

The afternoon sunshine fell on the sands of Tatooine with ease, leaving Mari to sit in front of the Crest on a mat, watching the suns begin to sink behind the mountains of granules of sand. Mando watches over them, knowing that she's more than capable of watching over Grogu, and steps off the ship to look at the two of them before giving a nod. "I wanted to run into town to see if they had some more food and supplies that we'll need before we leave. Are you going to be ok with him alone?" He questions, Mari's face moving so quickly that the bangs across her forehead flitter with the movement.

"Yeah. You're not gonna be long. Besides, by the time the suns set he'll probably be ready to sleep for a bit." She nods, pulling him to her lap slowly, hoping to offer more reassurance that she'll protect him. The Mandalorian seems content with her and starts off back towards town, giving a second glance when he sees the woman pointing to something flying by. The smile that's on his face is guarded by the helmet and for once... he wishes it wasn't there.

Din makes his way to town, finding the nearest shop and entering with ease. An older woman draped in shades of brown stands at the back of the store, broom in her hand. "You're lucky I decided not to close up early tonight! What can I do for you?"

The armored body moves forward before he speaks. "I was looking to see if you had food supplies. And.. perhaps sleeping accessories." He offers, the woman setting the broom against the wall before she takes clumping steps to a rack.

"Sleeping accessories. We have blankets, pillows, some quilts -"

"A cot. A folding one preferably." The elderly woman nods slowly.

"Ah, yes. However, it is not a standard cot. It fits two persons. I've found that there is not nearly the same demand for such a thing - many travelers like yourself come alone and see no need for it." The Mandalorian's helmet reflects the suns rays coming in from the open doorway, flashing over to a wall, letting him spot a thick yellow quilt tucked in the corner.

"Do you have comforters?" He asks, his stride moving to the quilt and picking it up, unfurling it to see an intricate pattern of different shades to the patchwork. Some type of design alternated on each square, and it looked large enough to cover more than one person. He folds it once more looking at the woman as she brings over a heavy brown blanket, filled with some form of polymer to make it rather comfortable.

"This is the last one I have. You've picked some of the heaviest things. Going somewhere chilly?" She asks, beginning to pick out food items, mainly canned goods - they were on a desert planet afterall.

"Not at the moment. I just don't have enough material for my crew." He explains, stacking the yellow quilt onto the comforter and moving to the counter. The woman moves to the counter, box of food in her arms before a hand falls to the quilt, admiring it and smiling softly.

"The woman who made this quilt dropped it off, didn't ask for any payment before I sold it. She said she'd made it for someone she'd not been expecting to come into her life. And just as soon as she had completed it - they were gone." The white haired woman sighs, only to begin totaling the purchases. "It never got any use to it. She'd spent such a great deal of her time on it. I do hope you are able to get use out of it."

"We will." Din pulls the required credits out of his pocket when he recognizes that she hadn't calculated the cot into the numbers. "I'm taking the cot." With surprise, the woman gives a smile and nods.

"Alright then. Thank you for taking it off my hands." He simply nods, following her to where she'd pointed to and gathering the device.

He'd ended up renting a cruiser to take him back to the Crest, knowing he'd never be able to carry the items at a fast enough pace to get back before it was completely pitch black out. He arrives seeing a glow come from the inside of the craft, the suns now below the sands, an orange glow creating a thin line in the distance. More credits to hands, before he's pulling his purchases onto the ship. Mari's made a comfortable seat in the corner, using a pile of blankets that the two shared to lean into the metal wall comfortably, a manual from the Crest in her lap. Blue eyes look up when Din enters the ship, a small smile on her face. "Welcome back. Need help?" She asks, slamming the book shut and moving to stand up, the Mandalorian raising a hand to tell her to stop. She returns to her relaxed spot before a clunk of weight falls to the floor.

"I've got it. Just need to put things away and then we'll start off." He explains, grabbing the box of goods and moving to his makeshift pantries beside the small kitchenette in the ship. Despite his words, Mari stands, moving to the pile and seeing more blankets - her eyes particularly trained on one of the items in the pile.

"Did you buy another cot?" She asks, starting to tug on the metal frame in front of her. She pulls until the device is removed from the weight of the other items, seeing it clearly. "This thing is huge, where are you supposed to put it?"

"Against the wall. I'll fashion something to help tie it down for when we're in motion." The reply is rather quick, clearly wanting to focus on the task at hand, so Mari keeps quiet. She refolds the blankets he'd purchased, setting them on the cot neatly for sleeping later, taking a moment to appreciate the craftsmanship of the quilt in front of her. The yellow is vibrant and looks like the dye was chosen very specifically for someone. She's distracted from the woven fabric at a small cry, both Mando and herself moving to look to the creature, who was looking at the two of them with tired eyes.

"I guess someone is ready for bed." She speaks, making quick paces to meet Grogu and help him into his hammock. Once he's there, she tucks him in with the small blanket remnant Mando had split down to give the child some insulation for when he sleeps. When a soft snore comes from him, Mari finally backs up, and shuts the door to the chamber, turning to where the male had been standing not even four minutes prior. When he's not there, she climbs up the ladder, her head popping up and pausing when she meets his brown boots, looking up to him looming over her. "You've got to quit doing that, it's freaky." She complains, only for Mando's hand to extend and help her up again, Mari leaning into the action with familiarity.

The two sit in the cockpit as The Mandalorian navigates to their next destination - one he's being highly secretive about. They'd been in hyperdrive for nearly three hours, and Mari's starting to get tired. "Is there a reason you won't let me see the nav screen?" She asks, holding her knees to her chest, boots below her on the floor, slightly shivering again. She's still in just the black tank and stretchy pants, leggings maybe, and the cold metal of the ship wasn't much for insulation.

"I picked out the planet, it's good for trying to escape for a bit. Seeing as you have this uncanny ability to know so much about the systems and ships, I wanted to see if you could figure it out." He offers the explanation, moving the chair to turn to her. Mari lets her head tilt slightly, giving a nod.

"Interesting. It'll give me something to do then, huh?" She teases, Din snickering the slightest bit.

"Yes. Now, if you're going to get any rest tonight, you're best off heading down now. We have a few hours before we land, and even then I'm sure it'll be some time before the sun rises after we get there." He explains, and Mari gives a nod, this time a yawn coming from her.

"Ok, ok, I'm going. You want the new cot or the old one?" She asks, standing and leaning on the back of his chair since he now faces the front of the ship.

"Don't care." Short, but expected.

"Alright. Actually try to get some sleep, will you?" She speaks before heading to the ladder, humming a goodnight before dropping to the hull.

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The Razor Crest made decent time as they arrived to the lush planet, still encased in mainly darkness with the exception of small glimmers of light from small creatures along the meadows. Din wasn't on the planet much, if ever, and he found that there was a bit of excitement for Mari to discover where they were. He'd remembered in passing her mention of her home planet being that of a desert planet, similar to the one they'd just departed.

He's left the cockpit now, and maneuvers around the hull, starting to remove armor slowly, stacking each peace by the cot before moving the one comforter on the device to lay it out, noticing that it's missing a pillow. He shrugs it off, and climbs onto it with ease, pulling the blanket over him with a contented sigh. His head sits uncomfortably in the confines of the helmet, and he shift to make it a little more bearable. He finds himself staring at the ceiling, counting the bolt marks and tracing the lines in the metal before arguing with himself. Just take it off, you'll sleep better. She's not going to be awake for a while. And with that rationale, he does, setting the casing on the floor beside him and rolling into the awkwardly large surface. It was somewhat cold without another body present on it, but he pushes past it.

Just as Din's dozing off, the cot chamber door opens and Mari slinks out of the area, uncovered feet hitting cold metal below her. Her feet move her to the refresher, eyes barely open, mere slits to get to the room. She flicks on the fluorescent light, turning to shut the door and she does - but not without seeing a flash of brown resting on the new cot in the hull. The door is shut fully now, and Mari's much more awake. The shade she'd seen was not a familiar color. Whatsoever. Sure, most of Mando's clothes were brown or black - but this brown... wasn't it. She pulls herself onto the sink, slightly regretting it when she realizes the cold metal is on her somewhat bare behind. She's got a thing about sleeping with pants on - it's never been an issue, until now that is. The whole damn ship was a icecube when they were in cold conditions. She figures that the ship hadn't regulated temperature to the planet's just yet. Despite that, she takes a minute. She'd seen his hair. That had to have been what it was. Mari tries her best to erase the thought, knowing that if she were to accidentally reveal the new information - she might lose any trust he's gained in the past two days. After finishing her time in the refresher, she makes sure the light is off before walking out, moving back to the compartment. She stops when the new memory flashes again. He didn't have a pillow. His neck is going to kill him. She can't leave him like that, she knows how uncomfortable she'd been sleeping in the cockpit, it wouldn't be fair for him.

So she does the next best thing. She grabs one of the pillows littered in the cabin, and moves in Mando's direction, eyes closed. She's shuffling slowly, moving from memory. When her shin hits the cot, she lets out a restrained hiss, before crouching and carefully finding his head, beginning to lift his head and maneuvering the pillow - only to be stopped by a firm grip on her wrist. Her breath catches, and she speaks almost too quickly. "My eyes are closed. They're closed." She whispers, his hand still not moving. Maybe this was a bad idea. Yeah, this wasn't smart. She should've just went to bed. There's no doubt that he's going to yell at her, tell her to go to bed, continue the scolding in the morning. Except it doesn't come. Instead, his head shifts up, giving her space to push the pillow under his head. His grip softens once it's secure under him, his voice groggy, as though she'd actually woken him up by trying to give him a pillow.

"Is your leg okay." She's... caught off guard by his question. It's not what she'd expected but she manages an answer.

"Yeah. Yeah it's fine." His fingers are still wrapped around her wrist, but they're far more gentle now.

"Good. Go to bed, Mari." He returns a command, before his hand slips from hers, the large figure in front of her shifting, rolling over. She's glad the dark is encasing the two of them, because he can't see her reaction, which is a small smile as she stands and immediately turns around so she can open her eyes and do her best to navigate in the dark. Once she's back to the cabin, curled under the yellow quilt from Tatooine, she hears his voice again. "Thank you."

Mari wakes to the door of the sleeping chamber sliding open, Mando standing at her feet. She groans, pulling the blanket over her to hide the light. "C'mon, we've got a day ahead of us." He comments, Grogu moving in his hammock with a content coo as his father moves to pick him up.

"I could've been naked." She complains, finally sitting up and rubbing at her eyes, hair a mess from tossing and turning the prior night.

"Not that it would have mattered." He reminds her, causing her to scowl at him. With the child on his hip, a slight chuckle leaves him when he sees her expression. "Let's go, princess."

Mari watches as he falls out of her view, sitting still as her heart recovers from the beat it had skipped at the word. She'd not used the word in almost 15 years, and it used to be commonplace in her life. It was her title, everyone she knew had called her by it. Princess Mari. And yet, when he said it... it wasn't the same. It wasn't a position, a requirement or a standing. It made her heart malfunction, her stomach turn and goosebumps raise on her skin. She pushes herself from her spot, getting out of the comfort of warm blankets and to where her closest was.

"You figure out where we are?" His voice is louder, coming from above her, in the cockpit clearly. She'd not actually thought about it til then, and takes a minute to do so as she pulls a grey t-shirt from the pile.

"Um, no. I fell asleep before I could do the math." She offers, quickly switching out the shirts before grabbing a pair of pants. They were a deep blue, and the color combination wasn't... awful, but nowhere near ideal. Despite that, she pulls them on rapidly before Mando comes back to the hull. A pair of wool socks are being tugged on as he finally joins her again. She's quiet in thought, the man moving about to gather things. He pulls the yellow quilt from the sleeping quarters, putting it in a bag with some food and water. Sat on the metal floor, Mari is tying her boots when she finally looks up to him. Her brows are furrowed as she does so and Din's own raise as he waits for her guess. "We came from Tatooine... and we have to go to Coruscant next... but you weren't in hyperspeed for more than five hours, right?" Din gives a shake of his head, sitting on the floor across from her, one leg relaxed, the other propped up with a boot flat on the floor as Grogu shuffles about the ship in excitement. Finally, her eyes light up and he lets a smile fill his face as she shoots up. "We're on Naboo! Mando, I've only read about this place." She offers as he gives a grunt standing up, pressing a button on his vambrace, letting the side hatch begin to open, Mari moving to the door as sunlight floods the interior of the ship.

Once the ramp has extended fully, she's slowly stepping out, looking at her surroundings. A wide open field, surrounded by trees, mountains in the distance... and so... much... green. A breath moves through her, in complete awe as she slowly starts into the terrain, taking in the blue skies, the dark green trees, the tall grass shifting as a breeze passes through. It's warm, and pairs with the sunshine beautifully. Mari moves to rake her hands through her hair, awestruck. "I never thought I'd leave Esno... when I did it was all so similar. None of it felt... like what I'd pictured. There were shops, buildings, and it was all so..."

"Brown?" Finally Din's voice comes from behind her and she looks to him. It's his turn for his breath to be knocked out of him. The way she looks to him, with so much joy. He'd imagined it, thought about it the entire way there... but he'd underestimated. She looked so content, and her eyes seem to melt into the skyline, yet shine so much more brightly. He's certain he's never seen her like this, so... carefree. She's been on highwatch for so much of her life, being surrounded by others, never truly having free reign. Now she has it. A smile fills her features before she turns to the landscape around her once again.

"Yeah... brown." At this point, the child has started following Mari through the grass, following in her footsteps to avoid blades of grass to his face. Din finally lets his feet move, letting her start off in whatever direction she wishes, simply letting her explore. She's not even begun to pick out each of the sounds that fill the air around them, the rustling of the trees through the gusts of air that pass by, the accompaniment of birds and other creatures, the wisping sound of the grass as each step falls onto them. And in the distance, a loud roar. "What is that?" She finally asks, her head tilting back to the fellow bounty hunter, trying to place it with other things she'd heard.

"What's what?" Din asks, not really following her thought process. He simply was letting the two roam, knowing that the new experience would keep them amused for some time.

"That sound. It sounds like some sort of... Maker there's nothing I can compare it to. Wait-" She raises a hand, making all three of them stop and just listen for a few moments before Mando finally snickers.

"Follow me."

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The hike to their location is filled with the two walking side by side, listening to the sounds the planet had to offer, Grogu tied to Mari's back with a piece of fabric she'd found on the ship. As they seem to descend into a slight valley, the noise grows louder when his footsteps pause, and Mari finally sees what was creating the roaring noise. A dozen or so waterfalls are carved into the cliffside in front of them, water cascading to a pool below them and into a river that ran the length of the valley. "Holy kriff." It's so soft he nearly misses it, the two of them standing uniformly and watching as the water free falls in a grand motion. The outline of the city of Theed sits on top of the falls in the far distance, a mere blip in the skyline. The Mandalorian begins to move again, leading the way down to the valley in the safest manner, Mari having a hard time keeping her eyes off the body of water.

They walk nearly silently, coos coming from the child on her back as they inch closer and closer. Eventually they reach the shores of the water, as close as they can become without entering the water. "The hike is worth it, don't you think?" Mando questions, looking at the woman who's now drenched in sweat, but despite it, holds the brightest smile.

"Every minute of it." She sighs, watching quietly as he moves to the bag he brought, pulling out the canteen and handing it to her. She takes it with a quiet 'thank you', twisting the cap off and looking as he moves to a spot a little off the shore. The quilt he'd snatched comes from the bag, and is tossed to the ground. She's quick to catch on and moves to his side, picking up the fabric and unfurling it in the air so it's spread across the ground. Once it's out, Din lets the bag fall to the yellow material, and then speaking.

"Let me get him off your back, and then we can settle in." Mari turns her body away from him, feeling as he unties Grogu from his makeshift carrier and the weight is off her back. The kid is set to the ground to explore leaving her to finally sit among the white flowers that are littered in the area, something she'd not noticed until she reaches the ground. The Mandalorian finally slouches down beside her, a slight huff coming from him. She finally turns to him, realizing that if she's hot, he must be boiling.

"Why don't you take off your armor? You'd probably be less hot." She suggests, the man's head moving in her direction. He's about to retort something, but... he can't find a good reason not to follow her suggestion. So he does, starting the process and letting each piece stack up into the black bag beside them. Eventually, all the beskar rests in a neat pile - except the one above his shoulders. "Better?" Din nods, letting his arms reach behind him and leaning onto them to look around at the visual that they'd found. Mari moves her body so her back is against his right shoulder, watching the water travel so elegantly, eyes deterring to find the child, seeing him running around after some sort of butterfly. Blue eyes return to the falls and she sits in the natural silence. The deep blues pop with each thrush wave of white that is created off the rocks below. The entire area was something out of a dream to her. She's so overjoyed in the moment. Safe, secure, and surrounded by such beauty. So why does her mind wander...

"Your helmet... it has a sound processor doesn't it?" The question is so sudden that Din nearly jolts, having found comfort in the quiet.

"Yes." The response is an answer she already knew, so she's unsure why her heart sinks a little. He's not hearing the same thing as she is. He's probably not seeing the same thing either. He doesn't get to feel the blades of grass that her fingers have been fiddling with as she gazed. Doesn't get to smell the cleanest breath of air she's ever had. So she sits up and shifts to face away from the falls, shuffling her legs around. "What are you doing?" He's matching her movements, sitting up himself. Mari's legs move to cross over his, shifting til she's completely in his lap, and leans into him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, her chin resting on his left shoulder blade.

"Take off your gloves." Her voice is soft, nearly drowned out by the rushing falls behind them.

"Mari-"

"Please? My eyes are closed, I promise." A mere whisper before he's reaching behind her, fingers tugging on the leather on his hands before he drops them to the quilt in front of them. Once they're off his hands fall to her lap. Before she speaks, she holds on a little tighter. "Your helmet."

"Mari, I'm not doing that." He scoffs, nearly pushing her away before she stops him with a squeeze of her hand on his arm.

"I'm not going to look. I want you to hear this. I want you to see what I'm seeing. Not a computer screen or a speaker. I want you to experience it. Not ... render it." He stays still, her words starting to do a lap in his mind. She says it so cautiously... as though he'll yell at her for even speaking. His hands finally move from her thighs, and he reaches up, pulling the helmet as softly as he can, the softest release noise accompanying the action. He lets the beskar shift to his left hand, his right moving around Mari's back in a gentle holding motion as he sets the helmet down at his side. Mari finds a more comfortable position, her cheek against his shoulder, facing his neck as his other hand wraps around her again. "Now listen. Look."

And he does so. His head moves to the water, the smell of the flowers and the moisture of the air finding his skin. It's so peaceful. The sound of the falls, the breeze drifting across his exposed skin and rustling through his hair. He's not felt that since he was a boy... and what a relief it was. Mari lets herself relax in his arms, listening to the water calmly as she counts his breaths, her body moving slightly as his own breaths make his chest rise and fall. Each one of her own breaths brings a familiar scent. Cool mint, soft lavender... and that one she can't quite place. The same scent from that third night. It was him. His shirt lingered his scent that night. And she'd slept in it every night since. The smell had faded now... but now she knew the source.

They sit there for what feels like hours, but really couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes. She can feel him shift, a hand moving from her side to move to his helmet. "Wait." She stops him, letting her head return to it's upright position, her hands moving to the sides of his face. The familiar abrasive touch of the hair on his chin is met with her hands, causing a small smile. Her fingers then pull his head down slightly so that she can press her lips to his temple. Mari lingers for a moment, his hand returning to her side, a gentle motion to tell her to let go. She does, letting him pull the helmet on once again.

"Open." She does, and the image of what she had imagined in her head is pushed away when the familiar glint of silver reaches her eyes. She gives a meek smile, her hands resting on his arms.

"I couldn't let you miss that." She offers, a thumb running along the fabric of his sleeve. She notices he's in no rush to put his gloves back on, fingers making small shapes along her side.

"I appreciate that. Truly." Despite the modulation of his voice, she can tell he means it.

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They spend most of the day on that quilt, in the middle of nowhere on a planet neither of them are familiar with. Mari had sat watching clouds roll by as Din sat in a seemingly content meditation. Grogu had fallen asleep not long ago, so the two were debating if they wanted to start to head back. "I think I'd be content if I never left." Mari voices, the other looking to her.

"If only we could." He volunteers, a sigh tagging along with it. He's right. The two of them couldn't stay here. Someone was bound to notice a bright shiny spaceship in the middle of nowhere. She reluctantly gets up looking to the gleaming water once more. "You think the water's cold?" She asks abruptly, Mando following her eyeline to the water. He sits on the idea for a minute before standing up, walking to the water with no inclination of what he's doing."Mando? What are you doing?" He says nothing, causing her to have to get up from the spot they'd not left most of the morning in. He's crouched at the front of the water, ungloved hand dipping into the flowing blue.

"Checking the temperature." He replies, standing up before his foot is pulled up, and his hands move to meet it, untying the laces on his boot and pulling it off. He's not actually...

"You're not actually thinking about it are you?" She asks, arms crossing across her chest. Soon enough, both boots are off and he's got both clothed feet in the water. What on Tatooine is he doing?

"Nope. I'm doing it, there's a difference." He turns to face her, now knee deep in the water before he falls backwards, sinking into the water until he's chest deep.

"You're going to get your helmet wet, Mando." She scolds, moving to sit at the shoreline.

"Impermeable. One of the benefits of beskar." He's got a response for everything, doesn't he? "Come in. Answer your own question."

She looks at him with her legs crossed under her. She swallows harshly before looking to the top of the falls, and then to the man mingling in the water. It's a beautiful location, she's beyond grateful for the experience but...

"I don't want to be wet on the walk back."

"Is that what's stopping you?" Her eyes move away from him as he moves to swim towards the shore, starting to climb out of the water. When she turns back to look at him, water is dripping from him, and what once were bagging clothes were now clinging to every part they could. Her stomach does a somersault at the sight, jumping when he speaks again. "Mari." She quickly scrambles to her feet, arms moving back to her chest with a grunt.

"I can't swim." She grumbles, and Din suddenly has a moment of clarity. She grew up on a desert planet. There were hundreds of moisture farms to make up for the lack of water. Of course she's never learned to swim, she wasn't expected to have to face such a thing. He's now on the shore and looking at her. Blue eyes look to the slit in the visor with hesitation. "There was no point to learn on Esno." He's quiet, only before an overly smart response comes from him.

"So why were you on Trask?" Mari nearly snickers at his question, a smirk on her lips.

"You gonna look for a princess who can't swim on a planet that's mostly water?" His eyebrows rise at her question, and he gives a nod.

"Smart girl." He takes a step and then holds out a bare hand to her. "Unfortunately, you're around me now. You should know the basics, in case of an emergency." Din can see the fear that sparks at the idea of getting into the water. She's only ever known showers and ultrasonic varieties. Not being submerged in it.

"Mando... I..." She's holding herself tighter, and he slowly moves to take her hand, pulling it away from her body. Fingers wrap around her own with reassurance.

"I'm not going to let you drown. Your head will never go under the water. I promise." As she gives a reluctant nod, she notices the thread that's slowly being woven. It's built with letters, and wraps around them with colors of trust intertwining them.

I promise.

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