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#youre supposed to be the hero that will save us. our world hangs in the balance and you are the one who tips the scales.
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smth smth about 'the thing that the character did that you thought was rly rly funny in the moment is actually linked to a terrible trauma that lies within said character.' or wahtever.
#jrwi show#jrwi fanart#jrwi riptide#gillion tidestrider#made this within a short span of wahtever bc i gotta go up to the mountains for my stupid gay job tonight n im trying#nnot to frrRREAAAK THE FUCK OUUTTTTTTi dont wanna work but. get that bread we fuckin shall i guess#ONWARDS TO THE FISH TORMENT!! sometimes flowers feel pain when you trim them before their blossoming. atleast i imagine so#i used to draw gillion with loooong hair tied into a big ol braid. and then it was confirmed that he had short hair when he was little.#AT FIRST I WAS SAD. but then i realized the duality of. when they were little. gill had short hair. edyn had long hair.#AND NOW THEYRE OLDER. and gillion has long hair. and edyn has short hair#both mirroring eachother. looking up to eachother. subconsciously or not. they most certainly care. and most certainly miss eachother.#GILLION ALWAYS LOVED HOW LONG HAIR LOOKs. atleast i imagine so. he hasnt cut it since he left the undersea. sure he wanted to go back home#but even at the very start. he knew he was free in some way now. free to grow out his hair. an adventure would await him before he returns.#he knew it would be a while. so he cant let this go. he cant let this sought-after hair-length get cut away from him again#not yet. not yet. i like to think he loved music too. I SAW SOMETHING INTERESTING A BIT AGO#i see alot of ppl commenting on my baby gill comics like;'i wouldFIGHT this teacher i wanna KILL EM i want them DESTROYED#all very good and nice sentiments! i LOVE the energy here! and it would be nice. to have that catharsis#but the story of young tidestrider is not a story of catharsis. it is a story of agony and being so so small and so special and also so dum#and sucking so bad. and just being a kid and doing the things that a little kid does and so many tired tired people reacting badly to it#youre supposed to be the hero that will save us. our world hangs in the balance and you are the one who tips the scales.#YOU are supposed to SAVE US!! you NEED to SAVE US! CAN YOU PLEASE STOP SQUIRMING IN YOUR STUPID CHAIR!!#you'd think that young tidestrider ought to prevail. and be tucked someplace all safe and sound.#elders gone missing and rotting in a jail. their cultists nowhere around. but theres no happy endings. not here not now.#this tale is all sorrows n woes. you may dream that justice n peace win the day. but thats not how this story goes#BIG ideas for this lil baby gillion series. if anything i make ever gets disproven im killing myself in a well as to poison a water supply
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timemachineyeah · 2 years
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I think it’s interesting that we learn Philip and Caleb became witch hunters to fit in to the existing culture of Gravesfield.
Because the thing about witch hunts is, there’s a lot of zealotry and tattling involved. If they weren’t a pair of traveling radicals, but rather two side characters in an ongoing town furor? That changes things.
Up until now I’ve been a little curious about the dynamic of having Philip be the younger brother. We are more used to stories where the older person has authority over the younger in a way that allows them to be despotic. Basically when you have two siblings in fiction and one is evil, it’s usually the older one. But Caleb seemed pretty chill? People with chill authority figures usually don’t grow up to do genocide? But Philip is really committed to genocide? And jealousy over your older brother getting a girlfriend is a weird thing to genocide over?
But now we learn, that’s not really the story. Or not the whole story.
This is a JoJo Rabbit situation. This is a Hitler Youth situation.
In a town that’s in a fervor to find the hidden secret evil citizens among them, kids are potentially dangerous. The children you love and care for are also the most likely to be unsavvy and get you killed. Sometimes older relatives under those circumstances have to, or at least feel like they have to, let their younger family members be indoctrinated without openly opposing it, even pretending to support it, because, well. Children talk. Often without filter. Maybe it would be okay, but
Is it worth risking one or both of you being hung in the square to test that theory?
So they get to this town. This town will hang or burn you if you aren’t pious enough. And this town defines piety by its hatred of The Devil. We are all trying to prove we hate the devil the most. And Caleb, older brother, is like, okay then. That’s what’ll keep us fed. That’s what’ll keep us safe. He’s not a zealot so much as he’s just trying to keep him and his kid brother alive and win the town’s favor. Maybe the zealotry even freaks him out a bit, but not enough. Not until he meets Evelyn.
But Philip? Philip believes. Of course he does. His brother has never made any indication to him that there’s room for doubt. No one has ever done that. At least no one whose execution he didn’t later watch with his entire community cheering it on. Because they were dangerous. Everyone knows how this neighbor got sick, how witches caused that terrible accident, how Satan tries to keep us from our eternal salvation. This is literal. This is real. This is eternal souls and cosmic reality. He’s a kid, at first. He gets indoctrinated young. He believes this.
And then they find the actual realm of demons. Actual hell. The source of all evil in the universe. Fucking obviously it is his divine calling to destroy it once and for all. Wouldn’t you? If you could end all suffering? Save everyone for eternity? Surely that is noble. Righteous. Sacred.
And how is he supposed to believe anything else? What is easier to believe: the whole world is a lie and he has been watching innocent people killed for entertainment since he was a child - which goes against everything he was ever taught and also feels fucking bad. Or: the witches used their evil magic to convince my brother they aren’t evil, which proves how evil they are. That lines up perfectly with everything I know, everything everyone around me has always said, and makes it okay that I participated in those public executions, and also gives me some good righteous anger to fuel me on a genocidal rampage for as long as I continue to exist.
In Philip’s head, he’s the center of his dramatic fantasy epic. He’s the lone hero up against the big bad. He’s going to take on the Devil himself.
Idk, I just think it’s cool that The Owl House was like, “hey, Satanic panics, fascism, and genocide are allied ideologies, perhaps even the same ideology, and it’s Bad”
Also, “societal pressure to conform enables and even encourages people to hurt those they love”. Camila tried to send Luz to camp because she didn’t want Luz to be bullied the way she had been, because Luz’s principal told her she had to. It was a gesture born out of a desire to protect her, but one that would ultimately hurt. Caleb let Philip grow up more pious than he was because it seemed safest, to protect him. Philip grew up believing in eternal damnation and righteous cruelty, something that has clearly ultimately hurt him I mean look at what he is now. Philip, meanwhile, hurt Caleb and continues to hurt his family because he thinks there’s a Right and Wrong way to exist. To be. The ultimate call for conformity. For hegemony. But he didn’t spontaneously generate this belief. It was reinforced from a young age from a society that wanted to make sure no one was deviating too much. To centralize and maintain power through manipulation, exploitation, and force.
Anyway I cannot fucking wait for Camila and Eda to meet oh my fucking god
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nutzgunray-lvt · 8 months
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How Horikoshi Fails To Portray The Underdog Narrative
(All of this is just my opinion, don't take it at face value as I'm obviously not a writer)
I read an interesting article today, and it made me think of our green haired boi and some of the problems that's been noticed in his characterization:
Izuku is supposed to be the classic underdog that we see rise above all odds and become the number one hero, and I'm not saying that the road there is supposed to be perfect and conflict free. I don't want Izuku to be a Gary Stu that gets a good life handed to him on a silver platter (there's already one in the story).
The problem actually comes from two places; the first one being that Horikoshi has gone on record admitting to liking other characters (the abformentioned Gary Stu) more than Izuku, his MAIN CHARACTER. The second one, I believe comes from a beautiful ask that @theloganator101 submitted to @doodlegirl1998 that said something along the lines of: "I have never seen an author portray their main character as such a loser as Izuku is portrayed in the narrative."
There's a difference between giving your character natural conflict to overcome (i.e. an ACTUAL underdog narrative) and making him a flatout buttmonkey and slapping the 'underdog' label on it. Other animes have done a much better job at this; such as Naruto gradually winning over Konoha with his perseverance and Luffy going from someone on a little row boat to captain of one of the most notorious pirate crews in the world.
The article says that there's seven steps to making an underdog narrative, and I will say that Horikoshi did do a good job at step one: make a character the audience will root for. Izuku is incredibly kind and selfless and also happened to be born Quirkless. He faced relentless bullying for +10 years due to this and wants to become a hero so no one else will suffer like he did growing up.
Step two: portraying the disempowerment, is where things fall apart.
I actually don't mind that Izuku was given One For All by All Might, but I do mind how his past Quirklessness is never properly addressed after this. We don't see him wondering if his new friends would actually be his friends if he were still Quirkless. We don't see him aknowledging that despite receiving a Quirk, the bullying he's gone through hasn't stopped. We don't even see him wondering if he still would have been bullied had he always had a Quirk. We don't see his low self-esteem and imposter syndrome properly addressed. We don't see him noticing that even the teachers at UA are letting him be bullied despite having a Quirk now.
This also leads into the opposite problem: we see TOO MUCH disempowerment.
Izuku is struggling to properly use One For All, as it maims him every time he tries to use it. Instead of receiving any proper help for him, he gets criticized for hurting himself, is singled out and has expulsion hanging over his head on the first day of school, and even has the threat of being barred from medical treatment unless he learns how to master One For All without hurting himself. Not once do ANY of these people try giving him any advice or comfort (the only one who does is criticized in narrative for this), but it takes him being on a week long internship to finally learn how to do it.
Does he get any form of acknowledgment for this by those who criticized him and supposedly have his best interests at heart? No. Do they continue to criticize him ever time he slips up? Yes.
The third step: showing the underlying strength of the character, is another one that Horikoshi does a good job at. It's a joke that Izuku's determination should be a Quirk in and itself, and he repeatedly goes the extra mile to make sure that those around him are safe. He tries saving Bakugou from the Sludge Villain. He saves Kota's life from Muscular, helps Ida and Todoroki protect Native from Stain, and makes sure that Eri has a memorable and fun experience at the School Festival.
However, this leads into the problem with how step two is portrayed: this effort is seldom ever praised and only criticized. The Pro-Heroes berate him for trying to save Bakugou (despite them sitting back and doing nothing). He gets in trouble with Hosu's police, despite the fact that Native and Ida would have died had he and Todoroki not intervened. He's threatened with explusion and called a problem child for going to save Bakugou despite the fact that a) the mission was a success and they didn't engage in combat, and b) the mission wasn't even Izuku's idea to begin with. He gets in trouble for fighting Gentle Criminal and La Brava, and his classmates criticize him for "causing trouble" when he abruptly runs off to get candy apple ingredients for Eri (the fourth light novel). No one ever properly sits him down and tells him "you don't have to go the extra mile at your expense. Your kindness is enough." In fact, the only character who praises him for this level of kindness is criticized in and out of universe for it. Any time this red-flag is brought up in universe, it's either ignored, played for laughs, or the blame is unfairly shoved onto someone (usually, the one person in Izuku's corner).
There really is no step four: design a series of challenges and try/fail cycles, because even when Izuku has a 'win', he still gets some sort of set back in order to keep him "humble". There's those I mentioned above, but there's also his Provisional Hero License exam. He passes, but gets suspended from school the VERY SAME DAY because of his fight with Bakugou.
I guess step five: the turning point, would be Izuku learning Full Cowling and Shoot Style, and it does lead him to pass his Provisional License Exam (as well as his attitude). Mastering Black Whip would also be another one.
Step six is the worst one of the bunch in my opinion: show the darkest moment. Izuku leaving UA to protect his classmates and loved ones from All For One and Shigaraki had the potential to be an amazing arc... but it all falls incredibly flat. It tries and fails to properly address Izuku's deteriorating mental and physical state as these Pro-Heroes let him try and draw out All For One and Shigaraki, only to go all Surprised Pikachu Face when he starts pushing himself too hard (All Might at least tried keeping him regularly fed and tried intervening when Izuku struck out away from them).
Class 1A vs Izuku is where this darkest moment makes no sense for me.
Izuku tells them that All For One and Shigaraki are targeting him due to his Quirk. He doesn't want to leave, but he has to for their own protection. All For One now has Ragdoll's Quirk, meaning that he has eyes on Izuku 24/7 now. What's their solution to this? Sending some other teacher or Pro-Hero to try and talk him down? Send his closest friends to try and convince him to come back?
Nope, the entire class rallies behind his bully and literally beats him into submission. They sit by as his bully accuses him of arrogantly trying to be an 'All Might wannabe' (that same bully also tries shoving the blame for Izuku's self sacrificing tendancies onto ALL MIGHT), try guilting him into coming back, and don't once take his point of view into consideration (Ida does have a nice moment with him). On top of all of this, Izuku is later proven RIGHT that they can't keep up with him in this fight. Bakugou's dead, Uraraka is seriously wounded, Tokoyami is seriously wounded, and Jirou has one of her ears cut off. Then everything is solved by an incredibly manipulative "apology" from his bully and a bath! For that matter, the "apology" doesn't even stick!
There's also many minor incidents as well that I couldn't really fit anywhere else: his Quirk Analysis notebooks and mumbling are seen as "creepy" in universe (Endeavor's the only one who takes it seriously), not having any sort of talent or other hobbies outside of being an All Might fanboy.
The story isn't finished, so step seven has yet to be seen, but TL;DR is that Izuku is way more of a punching bag than an underdog, and many of his fans are fed up. Izuku deserves so much more than what he's been given.
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silver-wield · 10 months
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Ffxvi ending spoilers
I'll tag this too, but this is your warning, I'm about to rant about the ending.
Because I didn't like it.
Lemme preface by saying I loved the game! Love Clive, Jill and everyone else in the cast, except Annabel, she's a bitch and deserves to die. Main story is great, sidequests great, combat is fun and it's great. Except the ending.
It's one thing to pepper hints throughout the story when you have a hero who maybe hasn't done as much to earn the definitive ending you, as a player, expect, and wind up with some ambiguity as to their fate.
It's totally okay to have secondary characters' fates left up in the air and wondering what became of them because they are not your primary hero.
It is not fucking okay to throw out not one, not two, but four ambiguous ending hooks when a hero such as Clive has literally done everything humanly possible to earn the kind of ending you see in ffix, with our hero returning home to his loved ones.
Onto the actual ending. Last chance to dip.
No pics except at the end, but I will be describing what happened.
Last chance fr
Can't say I didn't warn yall.
After Clive defeats Ultima and destroys the crystal, we pull back to see it crumble. Now, if you were going for an ambiguous ending, at this point you would leave Clive there and not return. It's a stupidly high drop and it would leave his fate literally up in the air.
Nope. We see he survives the thousands of feet fall into the ocean and makes it to shore.
We rejoice, believing he'll be okay and keep his promise to Jill to return and actually save himself along with everyone else like she's been begging him this whole time.
Haha, you thought.
Clive attempts to use magic, only for his hand to petrify. He smiles, knowing he's succeeded for definite. And then come some last words as he stares at the star he recalls Jill making a wish on, and his hand falls to the sand in the typical symbolism for death, which we've seen multiple times not only in this game but across FF.
Cut to Jill, staring at the star, which winks out of existence. She bursts into tears and runs to the deck, fearful it means Clive's dead. Torgal howls, mourning his master, and that should be clue enough that Clive is dead because Torgal never gave up looking for Clive all the years they were apart.
Then, comes the pathetic trope of the "light of hope" as the sun rises, and we see Jill's tears stop as she looks at the horizon.
I saw someone say they spent a stupid amount of time looking for a boat and claiming Clive is rowing back to her, but you have to look reaaaaaaally hard to see it. That's because there is no boat. There is no boat.
Jill is recalling her own words and hoping Clive will return to her just like the sun rises, and that's what we're supposed to cling to. Her words, along with all the other "hints" left along the way about Clive saving himself, how he should hang up his sword and pick up a quill (and I'll get to that in a second) and all the plans he makes for a life once things are over are meant to make us hopeful he's alive, despite the previous scene of deathly symbolism.
Then come the credits. No, we didn't see anybody else at the Hideaway besides a short moment with Gav, Mid and Edda, so literally everyone's fate across the realm is left open ended, which is so fucking unsatisfying. As unsatisfying as the ending to ffxv when we see empty landscapes because most of the fucking population across the planet is dead bar a few pathetic survivors huddled in Lestalum, who we don't even see enjoying the "new light of hope" because apparently a view of a barren landscape is meant to be good enough (and then came the dlc with one alt ending and a novel with a "definitive" ending that erases the original canon one because they fucked up so much they couldn't even work out how to end the damn game. Showing a mostly dead world with a "hopeful sunrise" ain't it. Nobody's alive to enjoy the fucking hope!)
Anyway, this is not a ffxv rant, so moving on. After the credits is a short scene of a beautiful cottage surrounded by greenery and flowers with two boys and a smol dog. The elder boy has Clive's dark hair and the younger has Joshua's hair colour. They're doing chores without magic and lamenting that magic and eikons are fairytales and Clive's favourite play makes a reference as well.
We end on a book written by Joshua Rosfield that depicts the war of eikons that the boys are pretending to play out in the garden.
And that's our fourth "did he live?" moment, using Harpocrates words about picking up a quill, and taking on his dead brother's name so it might always be remembered the way he took Cid's name on, Clive writes about his people's deeds. But did he? Or was it one of the Undying who penned it and listed Joshua, their lord, as the author?
But you know what? I don't give a fuck about some distant future where Clive's efforts pay off and the world is free and safe. It was a fucking given that would work out.
What I cared about and wanted to see was the characters I cared about being free and safe.
Throwing some NPC children with Clive and Joshua's hair colours at us as some consolation prize while Clive finished either dead or unconscious alone on a beach and Jill is sobbing is not the ending any of us laboured for. We have no attachment to these children, and the weird fucking hint about reincarnation or whatever that was, is fucking stupid and undermines everything about them living and dying on their own terms. The idea that Clive and Joshua, having been imbued with the power of the phoenix will rise again in some distant and free land, undermines everything they did in destroying magic and eikons and crystals. It's not a good enough ending when it comes off the back of the absolute fuck all that came before the credits and reincarnations were never introduced as a concept in the entire game.
Maybe if they showed Clive alive and reunited with his loved ones it would be a further heartwarming moment to see his and Joshua's souls together in another life. Their bond is such a huge part of what makes the story so damn good, but as it is, it feels cheap and flatter than a pancake to end like this.
It's clear the devs teams eyes are on future dlc to pick up where this "ending" left off and hopefully provide the fulfillment we expected, but to have the canon ending at this point of their next gen mainline FF game be so disappointing and low note just isn't good enough.
And people can say there's hints all over and we just need to look, but after everything Clive went through, we deserved a little more certainty of his survival.
All we needed was a boat on the horizon.
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matau-the-228th · 14 days
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Bionicle Mahiano AU Interlude: Teatime
Rahaga Vakama poured me a cup of tea without asking.
"So, Historian, what do you want to talk about today?"
I waited until the stream of hot water stops before I spoke. "Takua, I suppose."
The Rahaga paused for a brief moment before moving to pour his own cup. "He told me you yelled at him the other day."
Oh.
"I... I shouldn't have done that." I had look away from the Rahaga's eyes. I couldn't take seeing the pity in them. Not again. "I was... frustrated. And I lost control of my anger."
"...I know all too well about that, and certainly cannot blame you for losing control of it once or twice. But it can become a struggle to keep such a thing in check. No harm was done this time. In fact, I think Takua wants to be your assistant now more than ever."
Vakama waved a hand dismissively. "But let us not dwell on that. How is he doing? There is some room for improvement, of course, but I think he will get the hang of being the Chronicler. He's even gotten you to leave the Hall of Records."
I tensed up, feeling some sort of further implication behind his words. But I drank some of the tea and let the bitterness and fruity aroma cover the feeling. It was probably just my own self-doubt trying to claw its way into the front of my mind again.
"He's doing... fine, I guess." I clenched the cup in my hand. "Are you... sure it's wise for me to tell him the whole history? Not the abridged version you- we tell the rest of the Matoran?"
"Well, he is the Chronicler. How better for him to learn how to record and tell stories than by recounting our own?"
"Your own." I reflexively corrected out loud. No, that isn't right. Not really. "Sorry. It's just... how much of this is really... relevant to how we came to be on Mata Nui? Shouldn't we... cut out parts of the story?"
He frowned, an all-too familiar expression. I could even hear his words before he says them. "You were there too. Just because you are a Matoran does not mean you do not have a part to play in the history that has been and will be- no matter if it was in the past or will be the future, you are important!"
That's not what I meant. But I couldn't take the time to elaborate my thoughts before my feelings took over.
"Yeah, I got captured. Now I write down things that have already happened. End of story. Great big world-saving hero-quest."
"That's not the only thing you did."
"What, do you mean being a small nuisance to Dume's Vahki when you needed it most? Or do you mean when I caused some sort of crisis of faith in that Toa of Stone?"
The words came more freely now, uncorked after being bottled up for so long. "That somehow, just by existing, I made him 'see the light' and rebel against Tuyet? The very same thing that killed him? That part to play?"
Vakama's eyes widened, if only for a moment. Then he just... sighed.
"I see. So this is what you have been angry about."
"You and I are the only ones who saw what he did, what happened to him! Manas bones, Vakama! There's no body to entomb! Not even a mask to hang in the Mausoleum! Every single second of his last moments had to have been agony!"
"He would have stopped if he felt it was the right thing to do."
"And are you sure it was? That we couldn't have continued to fight?"
"...No. But there was nothing to be done! He put on the mask and used it, and ended the battle then and there. None of what he did is your fault. It was his decision. His sacrifice."
"But I spent so much time being dragged around the city by him! Spent so much time being protected by him! And not once did I stop to ask him why. How can you say that I couldn't have done-"
There was the sound of splintering as Vakama's hand crushed the bamboo cup he was holding, splattering the tea across the table.
"Because you could not have done anything!" His breath was ragged, trying to keep it tempered; Forcing himself to sound calm, even as small wisps of smoke puffed through is mouth. "I had the mask. I am the one who gave it to him. I am the only one who could have saved him. And even then...!"
Vakama grimaced, slowly speaking his thoughts like they burned his tongue. "Even then, I don't think he wanted to be saved."
His words hung in the air.
"I know it's... tempting. To try to be like him. To think that you have to sacrifice yourself in some way to honor him. I know that's why you've been hiding in the Hall of Records, or at least part of it. But don't. Don't be like him. Don't try to become a Toa. Because..."
He stopped, looking down at the crushed bamboo in his hand.
"...Because I'm not him." I said tentatively.
Vakama looked at me with an even more pained expression. He exhaled, doing his best to look me in the eyes, but his gaze seemed to keep slipping away.
"You are the only Matoran we truly saved, when we were Toa. Has... has that ever occurred to you? No one else is the same person they were before. Not really. They still live, but... all those connections to each other- to us- are just... gone. It was our duty... my duty, and..."
I didn't respond. Vakama looked so tired, so old. Old before his time.
That's right, I remember. I was built two cycles before he was. I'm older. Even if it's not by much.
The silence persisted, only the occasional sound of tea being sipped and poured breaking the oppressive noiselessness.
We sat in silence for a while, Vakama using the quiet to get another bamboo cup and pour himself more tea.
The Lhikan bell tolled, signaling that the sun has fully set, and that night had arrived in Ta-Koro.
"...Where did you leave off in your recounting of the past with Takua?"
"Rahaga... Toa Nuju had just finished his investigation of the Grand Temple of Tekoa, and he's learned a little out about Toa Nhidiki."
"So it would be Nokama's discovery of the artificial island in the Water Sector next, chronologically."
I shrug. "I think Takua wants to know how you six went from being Toa to Rahaga more, not this boring 'finding out the right way to be a Toa' stuff," I laughed a little, "No offense."
He smiled, giving own chuckle that sounded more like a ghekula toad croaking. "None taken. Though I would be willing to wager he's also wondering why you've been referring to yourself in the third person when telling the story!"
I leaned forward, smiling as well. "It's a bad habit I picked up from some story-telling Rahaga, I'm afraid."
And we both laughed and talked as we had not in ages long into the night.
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itsclydebitches · 1 year
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Fans use flat arcs as a shield against criticism from the title team. Iroh from ATLA has a flat character arc he serves as a catalyst for the main characters' arcs. Likewise, the girls do influence the world and characters around them but these aspects never stick around long enough for us to see that change. Penny is still dead. Nora is still with Ren. Atlas is still incapacitated. The CCT is still down. The academies are still inactive. The status of the WF and SDC is still unknown, etc.
Iroh is a fantastic example of how to do a flat character arc well (and I love that this arrived in my inbox today because I'm currently crocheting an Appa key-chain lol). Despite the majority of his own journey taking place off screen, the viewer still gets to experience two things. 1. Iroh's off-screen development has a strong impact on the world and our main characters' development, particularly Zuko, and 2. We don't know at the start of the series that his will be a flat arc, so everything we learn about him is new and surprising, despite it not being new to Iroh. It takes the viewer a long time to realize that he's not just a lazy, oblivious, well-meaning but ultimately kinda useless uncle. The slow reveal of Iroh's skills and true loyalty can feel like an arc even though, technically speaking, he's been that way since Episode 1 - we just didn't have the context to see it.
Now, compare someone like Iroh to Oscar. He's not someone who went on a journey to find unity with Ozpin and become a powerful wizard in his own right prior to the series, so the fact that what little development he gets in that regard happens off screen is a problem. There's no surprising reveal for the viewer, no on-screen arc (there are nods to the conflict, but we consistently don't see the resolutions), and Oscar does not successfully help our main cast - from a narrative perspective, I mean. He literally helps them by blowing up Salem, but as a story beat that feels unsatisfying because there was no buildup to that moment, it's riddled with inconsistencies, denies our title team the chance to defeat Salem for the first time themselves, and takes out the Big Bad with a Deus Ex Machina rather than giving the characters an earned victory. Though I'll always reiterate that I love my farm boy, the fact is that his presence in RWBY has only harmed the mains' journey. His presence introduces huge character flaws that are never properly resolved: attacking kids, Jaune's paranoia, the hypocrisy about lying, being totally fine with an ally serving them until he's doomed to disappear. As said, giving Oscar magic undermines a moment that should have been a huge stepping-stone in Ruby's journey (with the threat hanging over us now that it may undermine more, or else raise the question of why his magic isn't coming to the rescue every time it's needed) and, as discussed elsewhere, his very presence interferes with Ruby's emotional arc. This is seen pretty clearly in Volume 9 where Ruby is struggling with being the young hero destined to save the world from Salem, forced to solve an impossible task... even though she is none of these things. OSCAR is the young hero forced into this war via reincarnation, destined to solve the Salem problem if he wants to break his own curse. He is not the helpful uncle serving the hero, he's the protagonist disguised as a side character. Which, for obvious reasons, causes problems when your story is titled RWBY and Ruby Rose is supposed to be the one on his journey.
As for the girls, they're certainly having an impact on the world, but nothing that's reflecting back on them for development. Nothing sums that up quite so well as Weiss' "I'm so sick of leaving places in ashes" as she willingly leaves another place to burn instead of doing something to help. The shield I see against criticism the most is, "But they couldn't have done the thing that would have forwarded their development because [insert headcanon here and/or a stupid in-world claim that never had to be there]!" Why did the girls leave the market? Because a stranger - a total stranger they didn't recognize then as the Knight or Jaune - told them to run. That's it. Complete stranger gave them an order and they did it, despite being perfectly capable of taking on more of Neo's clones/helping the civilians. Even if that wasn't a flimsy excuse to keep them from developing, the issue is always, "Why would RT write it this way?" rather than "Why would you ignore our in-world explanation for this? Clearly you're not paying attention/approaching RWBY in bad faith." The explanation is the problem, either because it doesn't hold up under scrutiny or because it's existence shouldn't be upheld over the chance for good, strong, forward-moving writing. RWBY is Volumes worth of the Supergirl problem: "Uh, she has to dress like that because she gets her power from the sun. Duh 🙄" You're missing the larger point that the writers chose to create a scenario in which they could dress their supehero in scantily-clad clothing, excuse it through lore they also made up, and then have fans like you defend it like these choices stem from the Sacred Texts of Absolute Truth and Historical Accuracy rather than a fictional story that someone made up at every turn. Team RWBY isn't developing because the writers aren't writing that, but many fans act as if they're real girls in a real world who are bound by those realities. "You can't expect a bunch of teenagers to go fight when they're exhausted and their friend is injured!" Of course I can because they're fictional characters whose entire purpose is to tell a good story. Sitting in a mansion while the city is swarmed with monsters, after a Volume of taking the moral high ground over protecting civilians, and while the B Team confronts the villain instead of our protagonist does not a good story make.
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gardenofcamellias · 9 months
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gonna begin dumping all the short scenes that will probably never (but never say never) get put into a full fic cause my time management is horrible 😭
anyways here's a hiiai scene cause you already know i love hiiai ♠️♥️
context: au where fairies overlook and protect the human world because there is a prophecy that one day a human, nicknamed "the Savior," is supposed protect and save the world from a group of magicians (here i called them "the Guild") who terrorize the land with their magic in order to rule over all the non-magic wielding humans. only the Savior can use and control a special amulet that can stop the Guild. in the prophecy, the fairy that guides and protects the Savior is supposed to sacrifice themself so that the Savior can do their duty.
guess who is the fairy and who is the Savior :,)
right before this scene, the Guild blackmailed Hiiro into trading Aira for the amulet Hiiro can control. if Hiiro did not agree, Aira would be killed. you can probably guess what Hiiro did *winky face*
{scene start under cut}
“Sacrificing you to get the amulet back was probably the best chance we had to stop the Guild and save our world. I knew that. Deep down, I knew that. I knew that your death would save the hundreds, no, thousands of people that would be hurt while the amulet was in the possession of the Guild.”
Aira tightened his grip on Hiiro’s jacket, barely trying to conceal his sobs anymore. “Then why—!”
“—because I heard you crying. When they were torturing you, and you started crying from the pain they were putting you through, I couldn’t handle it. Not when it’s you,” Hiiro confessed. “It was at that moment, I realized it wasn’t worth it. If getting back the amulet and letting you die was the only way to save our world, it wasn’t worth it.”
At this point, Aira was barely hanging on, his sobs rocked his body. Hiiro rested a gentle hand on Aira’s arm that was still holding him, a sad but content smile on his face. That only pissed off Aira more. “What do you mean?! Are you crazy?! That’s the only reason I’m here, Hiro.” Aira looked over at his right hand and saw he was gripping the part of clothes that was above Hiiro’s heart. “The only reason I was born was because I’m supposed to protect you. That’s what fairies do. I’m supposed to sacrifice myself so you can go on to save our world…”
“...our world isn’t worth saving if you aren’t in it.”
Aira felt his heart stop. No... It can't be... there was no way Hiro would feel this way about me.
Aira shook his head. He felt the dryness of his throat creeping in his voice, but he continued. "Hiro... Do you even know what you are saying?"
"I do," Hiiro said confidently. He moved his hands so now they were resting on both sides of Aira's face. "In fact, I don't I did anything wrong. I am supposed to save the world, so that's what I did."
Hiiro places a gentle kiss on Aira's lips. It's fleeting, but Aira cherished it all the same.
"Aira, you are my world."
•••
Aira came to the conclusion that there was no way he was the fairy in the prophecy. Those types of fairies foretold in scriptures always had grand ideas and noble ambitions. But, the only thing Aira wanted to do was rest in Hiiro's embrace forever.
Let some other fairy be the brave hero that would save the world. Aira was just fine where he was. From now on, he would still protect Hiiro. But, he would never leave his side. No matter what trials and tribulations they would encounter, they would face them together. When they both grow old together, they can find a beautiful house to live in, where their only responsibility to the world was to take care of each other, until death does them part.
if you read this: thank you 🥹🙇‍♀️🫶 hiiai soulmates so true
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ikarisenpai · 7 months
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My Stories So Far...
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⋆⁺₊⋆ Hawks⋆⁺₊⋆
What are Friends For?: Hawks had been away on a mission and Mirko finally got you to leave the house..
⋆��₊⋆ KiriBaku⋆⁺₊⋆
The Snow Didn’t Bother Him Anyway…: The reader is worried about Bakugo being out in the cold. It was snowing a lot more than normal and hoped that their boyfriend would make it home to them safely
The Nightmares: You had another nightmare, but this time it was death you were afraid of…
He Has to Come Home: Things aren’t looking good for the students and heroes.. will they win their fight against Shigaraki or will the world crumble because Shigaraki got his way… only time will tell
Decorating Contest: You and the Bakusquad decide to have a Christmas tree decorating contest!
And The Truth Comes Out: (Request): Can you do kiribaku x male (if not gn is fine) reader where they all are pro heroes and in on interview?
Your Allowed to be Happy: You and your lovers have a small argument. One of them isn’t happy and the other is trying to make sure the other stays happy…
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⋆⁺₊⋆ Junkrat⋆⁺₊⋆
Ghost Pains: Junkrat is having ghost pains and doesn’t want to take his medication…
Showering Just for You: Junkrat wanted to shower because you had asked Roadhog where he had been. What Junkrat didn’t know was that after burning himself in the shower, you were the one to save him..
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⋆⁺₊⋆ Octane⋆⁺₊⋆
Your Doing This Now??: (Request): Helloooooo!! Can you write a one shot about Octane from apex proposing to the reader please I realized there’s no fanfics abt it. Can it also be a fem reader? Thanks man!
I Wanted to be Like You!: (Request): Pathfinder, Octane, reacting to a gender neutral reader who copies people's personalities or something, but they're this shy reader, and does this to them cuz they like them or something maybe?
⋆⁺₊⋆Mirage⋆⁺₊⋆
Just The Two of Us: You and Elliott had finally gotten a weekend off together and all you wanted to do was stay home and enjoy each other’s company
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⋆⁺₊⋆ Jin ⋆⁺₊⋆
Enlistment Horrors: You and Jin write letters back and forth while he is away, but what happens when life overwhelms you and you end up in a bad place… what happened when a letter you get could end it all..
⋆⁺₊⋆ Yoongi ⋆⁺₊⋆ ➸ Coming soon!
⋆⁺₊⋆ Hoseok ⋆⁺₊⋆ I Kept our Promise: You and your ex-boyfriend had made a promise. Every time he went out with the boys that if he needed a ride home, because he was drunk or couldn’t hang out with the guys no more, he should call someone. Well, tonight he called someone… and that someone was you…
⋆⁺₊⋆ Namjoon ⋆⁺₊⋆
Never Forget: Its been over a year since your break up and things looked okay. You thought you were over him and he you, but what happened at the summer pool bash... may have brought up some memories.. and now your second guessing yourself, did you really get over your ex Kim Namjoon?
⋆⁺₊⋆ Jimin ⋆⁺₊⋆
I've Always Loved you: You haven't seen Park Jimin in over three years and now your walking into his house to celebrate the spooky season of Halloween. Your feelings mixed as you try to avoid him, but find out he's everywhere. Will you admit your feelings or leave with rejection, find out in this Halloween special!
⋆⁺₊⋆ Taehyung ⋆⁺₊⋆
I promise: Your work is having a small dance on Friday and you forgot that you were suppose to hang out with Taehyung that same day. Will he join you at this work dance or will you go alone? Fine out in “I Promise”
⋆⁺₊⋆ Jungkook ⋆⁺₊⋆
Always There for You: Jungkook is worried about ARMY when he leaves for the military. He hopes when him and the rest of his band mates come back ARMY will be there for them and show that no matter how far apart they are will always be there for them.
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makeste · 3 years
Text
BnHA Chapter 325: Deku VS the Outside of U.A. ~Conclusion~
Previously on BnHA: Ochako was all “dear bloodthirsty mob, this kid you see standing before you has fought harder than anyone and put his life on the line to protect you all, so please chill the fuck out, jesus christ. like, putting aside that he’s humanity’s best hope and so it’s very much in your best interests to let him rest and recover someplace safe so that he can keep fighting for us, are y’all seriously going to turn away an injured and exhausted child in front of his sobbing mother?? seriously?? come on now.” I’m paraphrasing here but that’s basically how it went down. Anyway so then the mob was all, “...” and Deku collapsed to his knees in tears, and Gigantic Fox Lady and Kouta ran over to give him a hug but then the chapter ended.
Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “FINE, YOU CAN HUG HIM”, which, was that so hard?? The U.A. Clown Mob is all “come to think of it, we’ve kind of been taking the heroes for granted this entire time, maybe we should be less passive in the future. anyway so Deku if it’s not too much to ask, can you please save everyone and fix everything.” Deku is all “I sure can, and by the way I forgive you for swarming around all menacingly two minutes ago and trying to deny me basic shelter and stuff.” Ectoplasm is all, “hey Todogang get a load of this. [walks in a circle].” Hawks is all, “that’s literally the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.” Rat Principal is all, “anyway so that’s what your students did today, hope you’re enjoying your new *~*ROBOT LEG*~*, Aizawa.” Aizawa is all “[lots of exposition about Kurogiri and for some reason, Toga, while being all brooding and sexy].” All Might is all “[standing here right outside of U.A. doing absolutely nothing and being foreboding AF]” and that immediately sucked away all of the warm fuzzy feelings from the hugs, goddammit.
each new week has become a waiting game of “when will Deku finally get to take a bath so people will actually be willing to go near him and give him the hugs he deserves.” the stakes have never been so compelling. I’ve almost forgotten about AFO entirely
lmaoooooo
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me: for the love of god will someone please give Deku a hug before I die of old age
Mineta: YOU GOT IT!! --
Iida: [SWIFTLY CUTS HIM OFF] NOT YOU
fucking losing it at Mineta’s crying face. he really wanted to hug him. I legit feel bad but this is also the funniest thing I have seen all week, omg
somehow Kouta, who last week was only a hand’s breadth away from touching Deku’s head, is now twenty miles away from him in this new chapter
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can I make a Loki reference here. is this recap a good place to insert a joke about someone using a TVA time-rewinding device to fuck with my poor boy Kouta over here. well anyway there it is
AND NOW HE’S BACK ALL OF A SUDDEN OMG
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(ETA: since when is he “niichan” omg?? can’t handle this cuteness.)
BUT THEY’RE STILL NOT HUGGING HIM FFFFKFFFFF. WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO. WHO DO I HAVE TO BRIBE AND/OR BLACKMAIL
OH NO KOUTA IS CRYING THAT’S IT I’M DONE FOR
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“when I heard that lady I knew that I had to go, but then stop again within inches of actually touching you because you smell like week-old rotten onions.” listen Kouta, I’m not saying I don’t get it, but you all can’t keep doing this to me. it’s the way you guys keep teasing it. like, if you’re gonna hug him, hug him. don’t just stand there with your arms held rigidly out in front of you like a molded action figure
OH MY GOSH BUT HE SAID THE THING
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KOUTA SWOOPING IN AT THE LAST MINUTE TO TAKE ALL THE CREDIT FOR FIXING DEKU LIKE THAT ONE KID IN THE GROUP PROJECT WHO DOES ABSOLUTELY NOTHING BUT STILL TAGS HIS NAME ONTO THE REPORT ANYWAY, WHAT A KNAVE
GASP
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(  ´͈ ᗨ `͈ )
SHE PICKED HIM UP LIKE A LITTLE BABY OMG?? she just leaned right over and lifted this child like he was a small animal. like a lil baby futon that she was about to hang up to dry. oh my god
-- HEY WHAT
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(: well that’s extremely fucked up. though sadly not too surprising given what we just saw these past couple chapters
incidentally, I hope that anyone who was legitimately defending the civilians’ perspective earlier takes note here of how quickly that line of thinking -- “we’re just trying to keep our families safe” and all that-- can lead to straight up bigotry. if you’re willing to deny a child shelter and protection simply because he’s not YOUR child, and because you’ve decided based on Internet rumors (no real-world parallels there, I’m sure) that he might present a threat, it’s really not that much further of a leap to discriminating against entire groups of people simply because you perceive those groups as being dangerous. I’m sure the people who turned Gigantic Fox Lady away also told themselves afterwards that they did it to protect their families. “better safe than sorry.” “she’ll be fine, someone will take her in, but as for us, we can’t afford to take that risk.” people can come up with all kinds of justifications for treating other people as less than human, and the really scary thing about it is how fucking easy it is
one last quick side note, which is that Horikoshi does a great job here of showing how scapegoating works, given that AFO is the one who’s really to blame and who presents the actual threat, and yet Deku is the one who ultimately winds up being the target of the mob’s fear and outrage despite him being as much of a victim as they are. gotta love that irony, which unfortunately plays out far too often in the real world as well.
anyway I’ll get off my soapbox now, sorry about that. let us continue
YES, FINALLY OH MY GOD!!!!
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AND THAT’S THE STORY OF HOW GIGANTIC FOX LADY BECAME THE GREATEST HERO. PACK IT ALL UP, WE’RE DONE HERE KIDS
holy shit. the real MVP right there. thanks for getting it done champ
jesus christ I have had it up to here with these people
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literally the bar is set so low at this point that I’ll go ahead and take it. helping him because it offers them a tactical advantage is at least one step up from not helping him at all
“WHY NOT SHIKETSU” MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD
-- thank you!!
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okay this one guy with the antennae hair is having himself a character development speedrun here
-- okay, but this part?? fucking this part, right here??
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can we repeat that again?? the part where this guy acknowledges that the problems of hero society were caused not just by said heroes, but also by said society?? the part where he acknowledges that they treated the heroes like celebrities who were putting on a show for them?? the part where he acknowledges that when push came to shove, the vast majority of those heroes, when faced with a situation that offered no reward, were nonetheless willing to put their lives on the line to protect the very same people who then turned around and blamed them rather than thanking them?? are the civilians of BnHA even allowed to have actual deep thoughts about this stuff. holy shit
bro!!
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ANTENNAE HAIR GUY SHOVING KOUTA AND GIGANTIC FOX LADY OUT OF THE WAY TO SLAP HIS NAME ONTO THE END CREDITS AS EXECUTIVE PRODUCER. CONGRATULATIONS SON YOU FIGURED OUT THE CORE PHILOSOPHICAL QUESTION AT THE VERY HEART OF THE MANGA. WAY TO GO BUD
meanwhile, on today’s episode of “one more chapter to go till the big volume cliffhanger, how else can I drag things out let’s see”
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it’s a panel. of people’s feet. just a bunch of normal feet. with sneakers and shit
this All Might shirt guy is getting more screentime in this arc than 90% of the class 1-A kids
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I guess I’m supposed to feel sorry for this dude now that he’s all “if we let you stay here do you promise to somehow magically fix every single problem that we are now currently facing?” those are some ridiculously exacting standards my dude. come on now
KACCHAN SIGHTING
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thank fuck I’m not the only one who’s thoroughly unimpressed by absolutely all of this lol. I feel better now. meanwhile Iida and Kouda and Kiri are ready to run over there and hug them all. you guys are way too forgiving. damn you and your pure hearts
anyway so Deku’s like “yeah, definitely”
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(ETA: almost forgot to comment on the “I’m no longer alone” part – he basically corrects the guy and says “sorry, but you’ll need to direct that question towards all of us, not just me, because moving forward we’re a team.” good stuff.)
you know what though, all joking aside... fuck yeah. because perfect victory, right. the strongest guys don’t settle for anything less. so I guess Deku has pretty exacting standards himself
also can you all just take a look at this fucking kid who’s got so much light in his eyes now that I’m gonna need eclipse goggles. hot damn. “you’re welcome” says All Might Shirt Guy as he is frantically interviewed by several local news networks asking him how he daringly managed to save Deku all by himself. “well I guess I’ve just never been the kind of guy who can sit back and let a bunch of rabble-rousers blame a little kid for all of humanity’s problems. someone had to step in and take action, you know?”
oH MY GOD THE SCENE IS FINALLY ENDING
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don’t let the door hit you on your way out All Might Shirt Guy
but meanwhile, sudden Tododrama action??
oh shit
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there are honestly so many ways in which Ochako’s very moving speech could have wildly backfired that I genuinely have no clue where this is headed lol. how exciting!!
so now Horikoshi is once again stalling for time with random filler panels, but this one is 10x better than the shoes lol omg
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(1) was Ectoplasm’s jacket always this oversized. (2) did you guys know that if you go back to chapter 319 you can see that Horikoshi gave us a sneak peak at Enji’s Sad Detective disguise and I in fact made a joke about it in the 319 recap not realizing it was actually the stone cold truth. (3) did Shouto deliberately speed up out of impatience because Hawks was walking so fucking slow and he couldn’t take it any longer. (4) and what, I ask you, is up with these dramatic speedlines. so many mysteries here. what a masterpiece
everyone is acting all shocked about something ahh what’s going on
wait what
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what the heck. did they just loop around behind everyone. what was the point of that lol. “anyway, so this is what they look like from the back” well okay, thanks for that Ectoplasm
(ETA: so it seems like they were actually hanging out someplace else away from the crowd this whole time, I guess? here I thought they had more faith in Enji’s disguise. I guess Shouto and Hawks don’t particularly want to attract this crowd’s attention themselves right now either, though.)
I am so fucking confused lmao
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speaking of All Might WHERE THE FUCK IS HE lol. but yes, good, OFA brings everyone together, and Hawks is very deeply moved about this out of the blue all of a sudden. you know how it is
aw heck yeah now this is another filler panel I can get behind
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Mineta really wants that hug, good lord. I genuinely love this actually. Mineta if you could just stay little and cute and keep crying about how much you love your classmates in a non-gross way for the rest of the series I would be so appreciative. you’re doing great
IIDA IS HOLDING DEKU’S HAND THIS IS NOT A DRILL. ONE TIME WASN’T ENOUGH FOR MY MAN HE’S ADDICTED NOW
what did I tell you. Kiri wants to get all of the mob’s autographs now. Kiri you’re a peach
Shouji having a conversation with another mutant type is a very nice touch! we really need to get to his backstory soon. I feel like that casual remark from GFL earlier was kind of hinting at more to come
is this the first time we’ve ever seen the Yaoyorictionary in action?? never forget that Viz tried to call it the “Yaoyorozu Reference Book” because they hate fun
last but not least, KAMIBAKU IS BACK ON THE MENU, FUCK YEAH. Kaminari trying to spice things up and introduce a little bit of controversy by smacking Kacchan on the back of the head for god knows what. I will be deeply disappointed after this if I can’t find at least one person unironically declaring that KamiBaku is now toxic and abusive
lfkdlWLWK TODODRAMA??
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oh my god. Shouto’s face. Enji’s face. the back to “oyaji” again. the blunt, not-taking-no-for-an-answer, “I don’t know how much louder the universe can scream at you that doing things alone is not it, so hopefully you got the point” directness of it. fffdlkslj I’m so ready for this Horikoshi please don’t fuck it up my expectations are so high
HOLY FUCK
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I SCROLLED DOWN AND HE WAS ALL “( ❛‿❛)” AND I JUST WASN’T FUCKING EXPECTING THAT OKAY. JESUS CHRIST. GIVE ME A SEC
lol okay moment over and now Enji’s pulling his hat down all dramatically like a world-weary Cowboy
OH MY GOD WERE YOU FACETIMING??
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AHHHHHHHHH
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(ETA: not to put Iida down or anything, but it’s kind of strange that Aizawa is all “the class rep sure did great” when Ochako is the one that was giving that whole big speech for like twenty minutes just now lol.)
(ETA 2: “thank god Iida stepped in just in the nick of time to keep Mineta from hugging Deku.” sorry Mineta I really do like you lately but it’s still low-hanging fruit lol.)
HE LOOKS SO SAD??! HE LOOKS LIKE HEARTBREAK ITSELF??! I AM BESOUGHT WITH THE URGE TO REACH INTO MY SCREEN AND PULL HIM INTO THE SAFETY OF MY ARMS??? MY GOD, AND I THOUGHT DEKU NEEDED HUGS
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH okay I was gonna just hold down the letter H for a full minute and count it out loud but within about ten seconds I realized I needed to chill lol
-- but then again NO, I DON’T NEED TO CHILL, I HAVE ZERO CHILL, ACTUALLY, BECAUSE IT’S AIZAWA WITH A ROBOT LEG AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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COMPLETE WITH ROBOT TOES FOR THAT EXTRA TOUCH OF AUTHENTICITY!! I LIKE HOW HORIKOSHI PUT ALL THIS EXTRA “!!!” EMPHASIS AROUND IT IN CASE WE COULD SOMEHOW POSSIBLY FAIL TO TAKE NOTICE. “REMEMBER, EVERYONE?” SAYS HORIKOSHI HELPFULLY. “REMEMBER THAT TIME AIZAWA CHOPPED OFF HIS OWN LEG?” oh wow now that you mention it we somehow forgot all about that. like who do you take us for
OH NO NOT THE SAD BOYFRIEND ANGST THAT I WAS SECRETLY LOOKING FORWARD TO WITH GLEE
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well at least he’s not M.I.A. or back with the villains again like I thought he might be. still, that’s gotta be brutal to know your friend is in there somewhere, but to not be able to reach him again no matter how hard you try. that’s the kind of angst that pays off in final battles just when you most expect it. such is my hope, at any rate
what’s this now??
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trying to decide if this is Horikoshi’s way of saying don’t worry about that, or his way of saying definitely worry about that lol
anyway so Aizawa is out here being all irresponsibly handsome once again. when is someone going to do something about him
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here for Sexy Robot Leg Eyepatch Aizawa clenching his fists and making speeches about revenge. pretty sure we’re all here for that
WELL, WELL, WELL
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IT’S ABOUT FUCKING TIME
I’M VERY GLAD YOU’RE ALIVE AND SEEMINGLY WELL, THOUGH!
BUT WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK THOUGH, ALL MIGHT
ffff. bracing myself for that cliffhanger next week. you’d better not touch one hair on this man’s head Horikoshi. I’m watching you 
238 notes · View notes
nitewrighter · 3 years
Note
for the teen Titans ficlet thing, I don’t suppose you could do “there was only one bed” for robin and starfire?
*slams fist down on table* STARFIRE IS THE BIG SPOON.
----
"I think you are overacting," Starfire said, her arms folded across her garish tye-dyed nightshirt.
"Overreacting," Robin corrected, adjusting the waistband on his sweats as he stepped out of the bathroom, "And--I'm not. I've slept in lean-tos in the Alaskan hinterland and in literal trees in the Virunga mountains. I can handle a hotel floor."
Starfire scoffed. "You are being ridiculous! It is a bed! There is room for two! Plenty of my people sleep in Tesh'li!"
"Er..." Robin gave her a blank look and Starfire seemed to realize that that word hadn't translated over.
"Uhm..." Starfire's brow furrowed for a few seconds as she struggled for the closest english equivalent, "Tesh'li are like... clusters? P-piles? It is very common for families."
"...Tamaraneans sleep in piles?" Robin's brow crinkled at the mental image.
" Tesh'li. 'Piles' implies gravity is a strong factor in the composition of bodies," said Starfire.
"...right, floating..." Robin said quietly.
"The whole team had a big Tesh'li in that cave when we had that mission in Markovia!" Starfire said, clearly frustrated, "Beast Boy turned into a grizzly bear and Cyborg turned off his cooling systems to share body heat! You and Raven even shared your capes! Why is this worse? Am I worse?"
"It's not worse--I mean obviously you're not worse-- it's just---when it's just two people--" Robin drew in a tense breath through his teeth before slumping his shoulders, defeated. "It's like... an earth... thing."
"I am aware that earth has many things," said Starfire, clearly not satisfied with this answer.
Robin sighed.
"Oh!" Starfire perked up, "It is one of your earth intimacy hangups! Because large portions of your population spent several centuries convincing yourselves that your natural instinct to be close and reproduce were affronts to your creator deities! And that still lingers in your cultural practices!"
"Uh..." Robin didn't really have a response to that.
"I have been reading the Earth histories," said Starfire, a little smugly.
"That's great," said Robin, meekly.
“Well it is not like any of ‘the funny business’ will be happening,” said Starfire, using the finger quotes around the words ‘funny business.’ Robin really regretted letting Beast Boy teach her how to make air quotes with her fingers and that she had only been getting better at figuring out when to use them. “But I will respect your cultural practice and let you sleep on the floor, even though that is dumb and a little gross and you will wake up with the aching back.”
"You sure are a diplomat, huh?" said Robin, drily.
“Mm-hmm!” Starfire nodded.
This was supposed to be a victory in the argument for Robin--since Starfire was recognizing the boundaries he was laying out, but who was he laying them out for if she didn’t care about them? Himself? Alfred had made a point of bringing him up to be ‘proper’ and ‘gentlemanly’ (perhaps to make up for some shortcomings with Bruce) but Robin’s own childhood in the Circus was closer to what Starfire was describing--the performers spent so much time traveling and setting up and breaking down the circus that they had to catch sleep when they could, sleeping in piles, often with little regard for gender or age. He remembered sleeping splayed across his parents’ laps when he was small, or with his cheek smushed against Samson the Strongman’s bicep, or even in the pile of poodles, borzois, and border collies that made up the act of ‘Rivka’s Fabulous Tumbling Dogs.’ Sometimes he would even wake up with white greasepaint smudged in his hair from sleeping on one of the clowns’ shoulders. But now here he was, feeling like a bit of an idiot as Starfire pulled some sheets off the bed and the extra pillow and handed them over to him, before plopping down cross-legged on the bed herself and turning on the hotel room TV. 
“Did you want to watch something?” Starfire glanced at him.
“I’m fine with whatever you want to watch,” Robin shrugged.
Robin took the uncomfortable wooden chair next to the too-small hotel table where their mostly-eaten one-half pepperoni one half pineapple-anchovy pizza sat. Starfire quickly flicked through the channels until reaching a public access channel where a reindeer bellowed on the screen.
“The noble caribou,” the narrator spoke, “A proud fixture of the tundras of the north that have roamed these grass-covered polar deserts for thousands of years.”
Robin gave a glance over to Starfire who was lying on her stomach on the bed and kicking her feet back and forth, her chin in her hands like any preppy teenaged earth girl watching her favorite low-budget cringeworthy high school drama starring 29-year-olds.
“But this is not a story of the caribou, no we will focus on a friend who has been here even longer,” the camera panned down to a caribou gnawing some knotty, netted-looking substance from the ground, “That industrious, unsung hero: The lichen. This is... Life of Lichen.” 
“What happened to ‘World of Fungus?’” Robin tilted his head.
“You remembered?” Starfire perked up.
“I mean it’s your favorite,” Robin shrugged, “Or I guess this is your new favorite?”
“Life of Lichen is the sequel!” Starfire said excitedly, “Technically it is the third sequel. The first was ‘Our Friend the Algae,’ the second was, ‘World of Fungus’ and now it is ‘Life of Lichen!’ Because you need both algae and fungus to create it,” She paused a bit, “I can... change it if you prefer something else though.”
“Nah I kind of like it. It’s calming,” said Robin, “I used to only research stuff for like... missions and investigations... it’s nice to just... be interested in things.” He craned in his seat a little to see better.
“There is room,” said Starfire, scooting herself over, “You can see better here.”
Robin paused for a few seconds, then got up and took a seat on the bed, propping some pillows up against the headboard for himself to lean against. 
“While lichen bears superficial similarity to moss, there are many differences, the first starting with composition. Mosses, of course, are plants, while lichens are composite organisms, there are over 20,000 known species...” The documentary narrator continued talking as the camera panned across a rainbow of lichens on the side of a rock and Robin found his eyelids drooping, 
He could have sworn he only rested his eyes for a few minutes when he suddenly startled awake. Most of the hotel room lights were off, save for the bedside lamp, the credits were running on the TV and the previews were next week’s episode were promising to delve into the exciting world of lichens growing on trees, as opposed to this episode which mainly featured lichens growing on rocks.
“Starfire?” Robin said, his voice hoarse with sleepiness.
“Mm?” Starfire was already turning around and fluffing up her pillow, the faint green glow of her eyes creating a low spooky light in the room.
“The floor’s kinda gross,” said Robin.
“The floor is indeed gross,” said Starfire.
“Is it cool if--”
“It is very cool,” said Starfire. She reached and got the pillow he had on the floor next to the bed and passed it over to him.
“Alright,” Robin got under the sheets. Maybe he would have found more energy to be flustered about the action if he hadn’t been lulled by an hour of a husky British accent talking about lichens. Starfire seemed to be respecting his ‘earth intimacy hangups’ and slept on her side with her back to him.
“G’night,” said Robin.
“Sleep well,” Starfire’s voice was half muffled into her pillow as he turned off the bedside lamp.
It didn’t take too long for Starfire’s breathing to go slow and rhythmic, but Robin was still staring at the ceiling. 
God, I made that weird, he thought, Why did I have to make such a big deal about sleeping on the floor? I mean I literally was repeatedly saying it’s not a big deal and it wasn’t but now it’s a whole thing. What if she thinks I don’t like her? What if she knows I like her but she’s really pushing the alien thing so we don’t have to address it? No that’s awful, she wouldn’t do that--earth means too much to her to do that. That was shitty of me to think. ‘Earth Intimacy hangups.’ I don’t have earth intimacy hangups. I should probably let her know that it’s probably not cool to tell people they have ‘earth intimacy hangups’ right to their face. I’m cool with it though. Because I don’t make big deals of things. I mean it wouldn’t be a big deal to sleep on the floor. Oh god I’m obsessing over this. 
He turned on his side so that he was facing her back in the bed. He stared at her, watching her shoulders slowly shift with her breath. He tried to match the pace of his breath to hers. 
Tesh’li, huh? he thought, and he felt his eyelids get heavy. He imagined a distant world with high-ceilinged palaces, and a family sleeping in a pile on a heap of luxurious cushions and circular futons, one of their two daughters hovering upside-down just above them. His eyelids slowly slid shut, Doesn’t sound so bad...
He woke up at 2 in the morning drowning in hair.
Starfire was hovering about a half foot off the bed, half the blankets hanging off of her, still in that same ‘lying on her side’ position, though now angled so that the majority of her hair was piled directly on Robin’s face. Robin sputtered quietly, pushing hair out of his eyes and mouth and flinching hard as he realized Starfire was floating.
“Star-pft-fire?” he whispered hoarsely, still pushing hair from his face.
“Robinnn... Kan’ah peq lor-faon eshdarm...” Starfire murmured in Tamaranean.
“...What?” Robin said blankly before she dropped back down onto the bed with a bounce and a loud creak of mattress springs, still dead asleep. A cat-like snore escaped her as she readjusted herself in the blankets. Robin breathed in a steadying breath, coming to terms with what he had just seen and how it was all perfectly normal what with Starfire being an alien. Then he repeated that last mental sentence back to himself and wondered how long ago this work had claimed his sanity like it had claimed Bruce’s. He didn’t have long to dwell on that thought, however, as Starfire turned over in her sleep, wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him close, her alien strength moving him with the same ease as she might grab a stuffed animal.
“Star?” Robin whispered again as her arm snaked over his chest. He felt her body pressing into him from behind. His face was burning. 
“Hmm... Wurul tai horqarr, Silkie...” she mumbled, squeezing Robin close.
“Er.. Star--I’m not--Ggk!” Robin winced a little at the tight squeeze, wondering for a few seconds if he was going to get a broken rib,  but then Starfire seemed to nuzzle her cheek against his hair and her grip relaxed with a slight sigh.
Her hair was still enveloping him in a river of orange. She was warm--warmer than any human he could remember, and being in her arms felt like that almost- too-warm that’s perfect for dozing off while reading on summer afternoons. She smelled like ozone, and Lapsang-Souchong tea, and fresh-cut citrus. He wondered how he smelled to her. If he smelled like a memory of another planet. He listened to her breathing for a few minutes longer, as the warmth of her sank into him. He felt the exhaustion he always felt like he was barely outrunning catch up to him again, but here he was willing to let it overtake him.
Maybe I should wake her up? I mean... alien strength... don’t want to get crushed if she has a weird dream or something. Probably the smart thing to do, he thought.
“Zontar-ha peq lor-yuur’vyn...”  Starfire murmured in her sleep and readjusted herself against him again, her body curving around him. 
Eh. There are worse ways to go, he thought as he closed his eyes.
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liz-allyn · 3 years
Text
shudder; part 6/6 [agent mobius x reader]
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Series Summary: Pre-Loki series. You are one of the most dangerous variants the TVA has ever recovered, but Mobius knows what makes you tick. Five times he made you shudder, and the one time you returned the favor.
Words: 4.4k
Chapter Warnings/Tags: smut, language, soft daddy kink, sex in otherwise unsanitary conditions, writer's horribly pathetic attempt at dirty talk
A/N: Here it is guys. I struggled with this chapter a lot, also mad respect for gn!writers. I don't think I succeeded in keeping it neutral (welcoming feedback on how I can improve) so I removed that tag.
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You watched a small fire crackle in the darkness of an elevator shaft, being used as a chimney. Rain spilled down the walls, running over old steel and concrete, but at least you were no longer in it.
Once you had had the strength to move off the beach, you found a footpath scaling up the face of the cliff which led to an abandoned mining post.
The population of Olympus-V had steady decline for decades, either by migration, poverty, or famine. The planet had been practically barren for years, save for some mining operations to squeeze the last of the planet’s natural resources.
It was in one of those posts where you were now taking refuge with Mobius. You sat on the ground near the elevator shaft, your clothes still soaked, while Mobius fiddled around with building a fire. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself and tried to keep your teeth from chattering.
“You know how many centuries it took early man on Earth to figure out fire?” Mobius mused as he tended to the flames. “I mean, it’s not a competition or anything, but other civilizations had it down in like a few decades, max.”
You rolled your eyes miserably. “I got him killed, you know,” you replied, not having the energy to follow Mobius into another one of his “fun-facts-about-history” rabbit holes. You’d been quiet for a while, with Mobius having to hold both ends of the conversation. The grim tone in your voice gave him pause.
“The new guy,” you clarified, your tone flat as you spoke of your deceased partner. The last time you and Mobius had spoken, he had sang his praises. “It was only our fourth mission together and he’s dead. Because of me.”
Mobius sighed and turned away from you, “That’s one interpretation.” He dropped another piece of coal into the flame and came to a stand. “Or,” he added, “you could say he was a great analyst who made rational, competent choices and was working with the best data he had. The fact that he trusted you doesn’t make him any less responsible for the outcome.”
He idly wiped his hands on his pants, carrying on and providing no harbor for your self-pity, “I probably would’ve done the same thing.”
“No. You wouldn’t.” Your tone was icy. “Because you weren’t there.” You glared at him from across the smallish room you were huddled in, bitterness souring your voice. “You sent me away, remember?”
He let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his head slightly. “I had no other choice,” he parroted the same old response.
That wasn’t an answer that satisfied you. At all.
“Why?” you bit back with a mocking tone, coming to a quick stand. You pulled no punches. “Because the TVA told you to? Because if the Time Lords—”
“—Time Keepers—”
“—Time Fascists,” you hissed, “think that I have a crush on you, they'll zap me out of my useless existence?”
He glanced over at you, smirking with his head tilted slightly. He replied with a voice as sweet as caramel, “Are you saying you have a crush on me?”
Your shoulders dropped. “You’re insufferable.” You turned away, wishing you could find a different mine.
“Hey, considering my recent valiant and heroic efforts to rescue you,” he replied, “you’d think you’d be a little nicer to me.” You let out an exhausted sigh, but he kept going - cool as a cucumber. “I thought we had a thing going there. I mean - first, you kiss me—”
You spun on your heel. “Kiss you!?” you scoffed.
“Yeah,” he drawled. “On the beach.”
“I was resuscitating you!” you argued. “You call that a kiss?”
He shrugged innocently, a sparkle in his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything,” he responded matter-of-factly. “But, uh, yeah - it was a little underwhelming.”
He grinned slyly. You wanted to simultaneously melt into him and burn him alive. You scoffed, shaking your head incredulously.
“What was the point?” you exclaimed. “What’s the point of rescuing me if I’m nothing but a - a tool? A blunt hammer for the TVA to snuff out anyone that steps out of line?”
The pain in your voice was unmistakable, and Mobius dropped his playful banter.
“You think I’ve enjoyed spending the last - however long it's been - hopping around the timeline hunting people who are no different than me?” Your heart ached with every word, “You think I enjoy killing?”
“No,” he answered, weighed with guilt, “I don’t.”
Your rage flared. “Then why won’t you just let me go!?”
“I can’t,” he quietly explained, eyes cast down. He wouldn’t even look at you.
Fuck this infuriatingly charming, cowardly little TVA sheep-whore.
You felt the venom pooling on your tongue. “God! You’re such a company man, aren’t y—”
“I can’t!” he raised his voice in a way that you’d never heard before, stunning you into silence. He lifted his gaze and looked at you solemnly, his expression filled with regret. His words were weak, broken - barely above a whisper. “...Let you go.”
You stared blankly at him, reading the tragedy written on his features. With his defenses down, you could clearly see every word: I don’t want to let you go. I need you, forever. You are mine and I am yours and nothing else makes sense beyond that. I’d do anything to keep you safe.
Were those his thoughts, or yours? You didn’t know anymore.
Mobius reached up quickly and loosened his tie, before deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt.
You were staring like a deer in the headlights. “Wha-Wai-what are you doing?” you blurted uncomfortably with a furrowed brow.
He rolled his eyes. “Not catching hypothermia, if that’s alright with you,” he snarkily said as he pulled off his jacket and shirt, revealing a soaked white undershirt beneath. You remembered that you both were freezing and wet. “I’m drying my clothes by the fire. We still have 10 hours and 23 minutes until we hit the radiation peak.”
Ah yes, you had almost forgotten.
Ten hours until the end of the world, or at least of Olympus-V. And because Mobius’ TempPad was unbelievably conveniently out of juice, and unable to open another Time Door, you were pretty sure you had about the same amount of time left to exist.
Mobius confidently felt otherwise. He rattled on some jargon about needing a massive source of energy to power the TempPad - something about electromagnetic waves, solar bursts, radiation of a dying star, the “sweet spot” between a steady charge and a gruesome death. You honestly stopped listening back at the beach.
You were too busy questioning his motives and your own. Were you happy that Mobius was trapped with you, about to be swallowed by the sun? Or were you furious that he idiotically ran right into an apocalypse and now you both were going to die.
He quipped that at least that technically made him a hero; maybe he’d get a plaque in the TVA cafeteria. You would’ve made some kind of cheeky comeback, but you were already dying inside at that devastating thought.
“Not to be too forward, but you should probably do the same,” Mobius added, bringing you back to the present situation where he was undressing in front of you. “You’re shaking like a chihuahua right now.”
You were about to question the puzzling thought of him being in a place in time to observe a chihuahua, but then he pulled his wet t-shirt over his head. You turned your gaze away reflexively as soon as you spotted human flesh.
Here you were - former soldier, mercenary, and spy, and fearsome hunter of the Time Variance Authority - blushing like a shrinking violet. It’s not that he didn’t have a point, it was just--fuck, he’s undoing his belt— is this real life right now?
“Don’t worry,” he scoffed flippantly. “I’ll even turn my back to preserve your innocence and sanctity.”
He was being facetious but it made you wonder if he had any idea how un-sanctified you were. Your eyes widened at the thought: Did he watch that on the highlight reel too?
Now he was pulling his slacks off, and you were tracking in real time again. He kept his promise and had his back to you, allowing you the privacy to undress. And you did.
You peaked over your shoulder to see him lay his clothes out in front of the flames. He dragged over an old canvas tarp he’d found - pieces of which he’d stripped off for kindling - and moved it to a safe proximity from the fire. He sat down in the middle of the tarp, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around him.
And he kept his underwear on - boxer briefs, you’d called it - not that you were trying to look below his waist or anything.
Once he was at rest, he rubbed his hands over his bare arms to create friction. You mirrored his steps one-by-one, until you were also sitting in your underwear on the canvas with your bare backs inches apart.
You both were quiet for a long time, facing opposite directions, surrounded by the cold darkness, and the sound of trickling water. You could still hear the waves thrashing and the rain bartering on the rocks outside. The crackle of the fire - the way the flame danced and dimly lit your surroundings, brought you a sense of peace. It was almost... romantic. Even if it was the end of the world.
“I know this is my fault,” Mobius declared, breaking the silence. You could hear struggle in his voice. “I know I was supposed to stay within my lane. My purpose is to preserve and protect the timeline, and that’s it, it’s just....” He sighed, and you listened carefully, hanging on his words. Was this doubt?
It sounded like he was trying to understand himself. “Something’s different now,” he explained, with a little bit of wonder and fear. “When we’re together, I feel… like I’m someone else. And I’m not who I was before. Before you.”
You quietly listened, thinking about how much you identified with what he was saying.
“My head is telling me it’s all wrong,” he said, “that I’m making a mistake. That I’m playing with fire.” His next thoughts brought the tiniest grin to his otherwise grim voice. “When I’m with you… I feel like a dope… Reckless.” The smile faded as his thoughts sobered him. “Dangerous.”
In the silence that followed, you wondered again whose thoughts you were hearing - his or yours.
“How can something that feels so right be wrong?” he mused openly - for you, the Time Keepers, and all the Sacred Timeline - to hear.
The question that hung heavy in the air had such a clear answer, of which you were certain. Your mind raced trying to think of how to respond, how to explain. You simply couldn’t find the words.
So you turned your body towards him. You reached over Mobius’ shoulder gently to cup the side of his face, and pulled him into a kiss.
It was slow and chaste, projecting every intention and emotion that you lacked the words to describe. Each time you moved your lips, you took another breath; you wrote another line of your love letter to him. He sank deeper into your kiss, as your souls tangled and caught fire.
And then you felt it.
You were positioned behind him, with his back to your chest when a burst of lightning crawled up his spine. A desperate shudder racked his body. He pulled away from you breathlessly, his eyes closed, as you both panted and glowed with the heat of the moment.
“If I didn’t know any better,” your lips curled into a sultry smile, “I’d say I was making you nervous.”
He opened his dark bronze eyes at that, drinking you in. He couldn’t help but mirror your mischievous smirk. In an instant, he snatched you up and pulled you onto his lap. You kissed him hungrily, straddling him, as his hands glided over your body.
Your mind went foggy, as any composure you had in the situation was evaporating. His lustful kisses scorched your skin as they traveled down your neck. He lifted you higher so that he could drink more of you in. You gasped and sighed at how your body reacted to him, your fingers digging into his scalp. He groaned with pleasure as he found your open mouth again, your tongue a welcoming partner.
He pulled you in tighter, your hips grinding further into him. You felt his want, hard against your body, and you felt the last of your innocence pooling between your legs. The friction made you let out an un-sanctified moan, breaking away from his kiss. The sound of your voice intoxicated him.
You were in a controlled descent backwards as he lowered you to your back.
When did you start trembling? Has it really been that long since your last time?
Your hands danced across his chest, triggering goosebumps. Even his skin wanted you. You writhed beneath him as he positioned himself between your legs. You were bursting like a firecracker with anxious need. Your hands groped him, nails gently grazing - traveling down his torso and beneath the waistband of his boxers.
He gasped as your fingers wrapped around his organ, fluttering his eyes shut at your touch. You were on autopilot, your physical need in command of your body, as you attempted to pull his stiff erection from his boxers.
Mobius snatched your hands and you froze. He pulled your arms up, grasping your hands tightly, and pinned your wrists to the floor on either side of your head. You were hit with a wave of confusion, followed by shame.
Maybe you’d read this wrong. You looked up at him, half-expecting to read an expression of disgust.
What you found was the opposite.
His eyes— gentle, dark, and focused intently on you— telegraphed a message for you to read carefully:
You were not the one in control here.
You felt the wind of butterflies deep in your core as you realized he had clear goals for you in mind. He was asking you - imploring you - for command of your body. For the record, he already had it - whether or not either of you were conscious of it.
You lay still, save for your chest’s gentle movements, as his eyes unravelled the layers of your being. Trapped in his gaze, you were stripped bare in more than just flesh.
You were time travelling again - years into the past. The pages of your chapters fell away, until you felt like a pupil again, watching your master navigating the geography of your body.
His grip softened, giving your palms an affectionate squeeze before he released your hands. His leering gaze was already gliding down your valleys, and his hands followed, letting his fingertips brush the delicate flesh of your forearms as they travelled.
All your mind could do to focus was count your every breath as his touch and kisses grazed your skin. You wondered how long it had been for him. You quivered at the thought of him planning this moment.
He took time tasting you with each kiss - down your chest, your belly, the crest of your hips. You lifted your core with his encouragement, allowing him to pull away your last remaining piece of clothing. You were finally unveiled before him. He sighed softly, mind buzzing, as he delicately spread your legs apart.
He moved so slowly with intention, relishing each moment. You were on the verge of losing it and he had yet to touch your most sensitive areas. He could feel your hips squirm with anticipation.
“I want you,” he pacified you, “more than anything.” He tenderly kissed the inside of your thigh. “But I need to know that you want this too. Without a doubt in your mind.”
You were desperate by this point, way past “willing.” Regardless, he met your eyes, waiting patiently for your consent.
You were consumed with lust. “Please,” you stuttered in passionate exhilaration. You could barely recognize your own voice, “You can do anything you want to me.”
His face twitched into a sinful smirk. “I know.” There was that confidence again. “But that’s not what I asked.” He steadied his composure and fixed himself in your sights once again. You gazed at him with a more sobered expression, giving this moment the respect he wanted.
He watched your lips now that he had your attention. “Tell me you want me to make you feel good,” he seductively implored. “Tell me you want me to take you, here and now. I need to hear you say yes.”
The way he asked for your consent could’ve put you over the edge by itself.
“Yes,” you practically moaned under your breath. It was a sinful, thirsty plea. “God, yes, please. I want you to touch me.”
That ignited his fuse.
He lowered to his elbows, positioning his arms beneath your legs. His mouth was on you, leaving you aghast at the force. It was like he wanted more than just to please you - he relished in devouring you, like a frozen dessert on a hot summer day. You jolted and gasped, more from surprise than pain. He took note anyway, and steadied his animalistic pace.
It wasn’t long until your eyes were rolled in the back of your head. You were thunderstruck, arching your body and moaning with ecstasy.
The way his name sounded each time it sprang from your lips made him drunk. Every time you uttered it, you felt him tense and groan. It was a perpetual cycle. Your hips would reflexively buck from the intense pleasure and he would just hold on tighter. He forced your thighs apart as you encouraged him to unleash more rapture on your body.
This was not a particularly new position for you, but it was good. You weren’t sure where he got the experience, but he was really, really good.
And if “Sacred-you”— “NC-17-rated,” “parental-advisory-warning-labelled” badass-you—could just see yourself now: writhing on the floor while being laid out by an older man, one whom you’d rarely seen out of a brown suit and tie. You didn’t think this man knew how to fire a gun before, but you were practically mewling for him like a kitten.
And god, he really seemed to enjoy it.
You warned him that you couldn’t last much longer. You felt the tension building inside. You wanted desperately to satisfy him, to feel him inside of you, to have him enraptured with you. But unless he slowed down, you were going to lose it right here with his mouth on you. You knew he had needs, and you began to plead with him to let you fulfill them.
You pushed down on his shoulders, begging him to let you have a turn. He pulled away, pausing only briefly.
“Uh uh,” he chastised you with a wicked grin. “I’m not finished with you yet.”
He was back on you before you could reply, this time reaching two of his fingers into your core.
Your head dropped backwards at the sensation, and now you were obscenely begging him for more. You’d happily given up any attempt at controlling what happened next, focusing solely on the nuclear fission in your body.
You blossomed for him as his fingertips pulsed on the most sensitive flesh inside inside you. Muscles you didn’t even remember you had repeatedly contracted. He impurely hummed and he lapped greedily at the fruit of his labor.
You were gasping for air, beaded with sweat, as you came down from your high. He leaned over you to witness the sunset of your orgasm. Eyes full of lust, he pulled himself free of his boxers and discarded them as he watched you.
When you glanced down to see the stunning sight of his stimulation, it re-electrified you. You pulled yourself into a sitting position on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your legs straddled him eagerly as he lifted your hips over his member.
The erotic sound you both made as you slid down his shaft was sinful enough to cast you both into hell. You kissed him, open-mouthed, and tasted yourself on his tongue. Now that you were on top of him, wrapped around him, he seemed more frantic and less calculated with his movement.
He was gazing up at you like a lustful teenage boy, letting himself be taken by passion. “God...” he whispered, suddenly less skilled with words. “You feel so... ah!... s-so beautiful...”
“You’re so hard…stretching me so tight,” you groaned into his mouth, and he growled in agreement, nodding his head.
He broke away from the kiss, “God - yes, ah, you’re s-so tight, baby...” You grinned excitedly as you climbed and descended his length. You moaned like a porn star as you rode him.
“I can call you that, can’t I?” he said through his own breathless moans. You glanced at him in confusion. He looked concerned. His hands braced your hips as you continued your movement. “Is that okay?”
“Wha-what?”
“The pet name,“ he explained through sighs, “B-Baby? I-I don’t want it to sound de-demeaning, or... patronizing—”
Okay. Now he was overthinking it.
“It’s fine,” you urged him to move on, growing more frustrated, but now he was babbling nervously.
“I could call you something else—”
“—don’t care—”
“—’s’important to me that you know I respect you, and I’d never—”
“I don’t care, I—You can call me whatever you want. Please, daddy… Just— fuck me…”
You crashed your lips on his, but felt his breath hitch as he tensed you immediately. You either said something very right, or very wrong. The sex had all but come to a screeching halt, as you reluctantly met his eyes.
He gazed at you thoughtfully, gears turning.
Timidly, you searched his face for judgment, for any sign of disapproval, but instead, there was a look of almost— awe.
You watched the change in him as the devil overtook him. His eyes turned three shades darker, pooling with lust. His expression of wonder melted into a devious smile. Your dirty talk awakened something in him, like he was remembering a long-forgotten visceral part of himself.
He scooped you up and laid you on your back again, pulling himself out of your body. You only had a brief time to revolt, until he sat up on his knees and he lifted one of your thighs up, pulling your leg over his shoulder. You watched curiously trying to figure out what he was doing, until he gripped your hips and pulled you downward— over his shaft.
You let out a painfully delicious cry as he bottomed out inside of you. He hungrily watched your expressions and relished in the sound of your moans.
His hand braced the inside of your other thigh, holding your legs open so that you were spread at the right angle for him. As soon as he began to thrust, you were done for.
You groaned with ecstasy. “That’s... it..,” he praised you, eliciting more cries from you.
There were no more performances. There was no more pageantry. No more room for pretending to be anyone other than who you are.
You were coming undone for him, and he watched every moment. Every dirty thought and fantasy you ever had might as well have been written on your body. He studied each line.
“Oh god, Mobius—yes,” you babbled as you squirmed.
“Yeah?” he breathed, teasingly. “Does that feel good?” You nodded frantically.
Sweat beaded down his chest as his hands roamed to find your sweet spot, and another desperate wave of ‘yes’s flooded out from your lips.
“What did you call me?” he enticed, his mouth watering for your response. “What name did you call me before?” You were struggling with words, but he wouldn’t stop until he coaxed the right one from you.
“Say it.”
You tangled your fingers in your scalp, turning your head away. He thrust into your hips a little deeper, and you cried out obscenely.
“Say it,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “I wanna hear you say it again. I wanna watch you say it to me.”
More lewd noises dropped out of your mouth, as you propped yourself up on your elbows. “Yes, please, I love what’re… doing t’ me… I need it, daddy…”
He groaned with a lecherous smile, biting his lip. “You are so good for me.”
Lust was dripping from each word as he drew them out. His honeyed, Southern accent had returned. His eyes were blown black as he cooed with praise, “You make me wanna be so bad.”
You were gone after that. Your head tilted back, crying out through another climax. He could hear his own voice—that’s it that’s it—moaning in the distance somewhere, but he was enthralled with your little pleas. The tones of your voice washed over him; he used them to quell the blaze inside.
He knew everything he wanted to do to you, and everything you wanted him to do. And he couldn’t get past the feeling, as he buried himself deeper inside of you, that this was all... familiar.
This picture of you, spread out gloriously beneath him, was impossibly familiar. He imagined a bed that wasn’t his own, and light blue cotton sheets that couldn’t have been his, and the sunlight peeking from a sheer curtain, and falling across the ecstasy-filled face of his lover that he couldn’t have ever married...
That was....you.
Your voice was echoing in Mobius’ head. You whined and whimpered, glowing with passion, signaling that you were moments away from your climax. And then he was here - on Olympus-V with you, and he felt you tighten and flutter around him.
The sight of you, writhing beneath him as you reached orgasm, pulled a deep moan from his chest. White hot light flooded his vision. His body jerked and reacted in unison, filling you with his seed.
For someone for whom time had little meaning, he was now obsessed - trying to catch and hold back each fleeting moment. He leaned forward, his body spent, and you pulled his chin down into a longing kiss.
His mind was spinning. His lungs were still taking deep breaths. He pulled away slowly and rested his forehead on yours, his eyes closed as he struggled to make sense of what was real and what was a dream.
“I could never let you go,” he declared, deep in contemplation. You didn’t quite understand the connection in the present moment. You didn’t remember.
“Then stay with me,” was your gentle reply.
He gazed once again into your eyes with a knowing smile. “Always.”
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A/N: And I'm leaving it there. For now. Please reblog with feedback, or send me a message on your thoughts. This is my first attempt at writing in a long, long time. Also it's my first attempt at smut so be nice with your feedback :-)
THANK YOU to all of you for your wonderful comments. Please reblog for support!
@generalhugzzz @isaxbella749 @yodaboo @aloyssia @simsiddy @coloursforyourportrait
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Text
Nightmare
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Avenger Reader Word Count: 3,431 Summary: Your best friend finally comes to visit the compound after you join the Avengers. What starts out as a fun night out, quickly turns dire for you and Bucky. Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Feelings, Mentions of Alcohol and Drugs, PTSD/Nightmares, swearing
“AHHHH Y/N!!” You hear her before you see your best friend running towards you, not a care in the world that your entire team has also turned around to watch you two galavant towards each other like long lost sisters.
You catch Sarah in your arms and spin her around.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re FINALLY HERE! And you’re early! Holy shit like I can’t believe you’re finally here in New York!! Let me introduce you to the team!” You grab her arm after she starts to show hesitance in meeting the Avengers all at once.
“Are you sure they have time? I don’t want to be a bother,” she says sheepishly.
“Oh my god Sarah, I talk about you all the time! They’re just as excited to meet you, come on.” You both walk towards the team still staring at you both near the entrance to the compound doing a quick debrief of a not-so-successful mission the day before.
“Guys, this is Sarah. Sarah this is-“ she cuts you off. “I know who you guys all are. It’s so nice to meet you! I’ll stay out of the way, I promise.” Everyone grins and introduces themselves to your best friend.
Nat smiles at you both, “On the contrary, you’re coming out with us tonight! No if’s, and’s or but’s”
Sarah seems to suddenly catch a second wind from her long flight and lets out a squeal of excitement.
You’re the newest to the “official” team, even though Steve and Fury had been trying to recruit you for years. You didn’t like the idea of the world knowing about your skill set and preferred to live a quiet life back in California. Ever since moving here, you’ve felt like maybe you weren’t home yet. Everyone was so nice and welcoming, but you missed your little house hidden in the outskirts of the National Parks in California. You missed the sun, the familiar smell of your patch of paradise and the general sense of room back home. Most importantly, you missed Sarah.
You were reluctant to invite her out to New York at first, but now that things seemed to be going smoothly, you sent for her via a car and private jet thanks to one Mr. Tony Stark. He was more than happy to help you out given your fresh and maybe sometimes bumpy arrival to the Avengers.
As everyone filed inside to break away before the evening festivities, Bucky caught your arm.
After holding you back for a second he said, “Hey, I can totally hang back tonight if you’d rather just be with Sarah and the team.”
You realize what he’s getting at. He also has some lack of feeling settled at the compound. It was something you bonded over when you first arrived. You both had similar pasts, even though they were at the same time lightyears apart.
“Buck, no. I think we’re all going out to Bleaker’s tonight! What’s a better way to get to know the team than bowling, beer, smoking inside, beer, old arcade games, more beer and maybe dancing?!”
Bucky gives you a quick glare out the corner of his eye before wrapping his metal arm around your shoulders to lead you inside after everyone.
“Fiiiiiiine, but I can’t promise I’ll behave.” You giggle, but suddenly feel a couple sets of eyes on you.
“And what do we have here?,” Tony asks with a smirk across his mouth. Sarah seems to be in the middle of an engaging conversation with Steve, so you don’t seem to have an easy out of this encounter. Bucky quickly drops his arm and steps a foot away from you.
“Uh, nothing. Y/N just seemed like maybe she wasn’t feeling well.”
“But I’m fine so here we are - have you seen Sam? Nat? Wanda? I told them we should be ready in a few hours and I jus-“
“Oh for Christ’s sake guys, your secret is safe with me,” Tony winks at you knowingly. You decide to take that as the end of the conversation and rush over to join Sarah.
“So! You have muscles.” Sarah says clearly at a loss of words looking at Steve in a tight shirt.
You and Bucky share a giggle, but pull Sarah away and save her from further embarrassment.
“What the fuck did I just say?” Sarah is about as red as a tomato as you drag her upstairs away from the awkward encounter. Steve looked a little flustered as well, which you file away in the back of your brain.
“Who cares! Let’s catch up and get ready for tonight.” Sarah is your best friend for a reason. Even though it had been 6 months since you last saw each other, it was like it was yesterday. You two spend the next few hours catching up, gossiping about each other’s families, friends, ex-boyfriends, etc.
“So! How are we doing in the boi department?” You turn around and face Sarah at the inquisitive tone in her question.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m good, I’m… I’m doing great, I mean yeah I’m good. WHY?” You’re stuttering and you don’t even care it’s obvious you’re blushing.
“Oh, you know. I mean, I’ve only recently met a few super soldiers, but I do think I can tell the there’s a spark between one and someone else.” Sarah so wants you to spill the tea but you promised Bucky you’d keep it quiet.
“Let’s just say things are developing and whatever you’d like to take from that you may.” You both launch into a giggle fit of her guessing and you denying certain aspects of Bucky Barnes.
When Wanda wanders into your room a few hours later, she starts laughing at what she sees. “You know you two are wearing like the same thing, right?” Exchanging confused looks at each other, you reply with a “AND?!”
Sam follows in with a smirk of his own. You’re bracing for his jokes but instead says “damn, OKAY! Everyone’s looking sharp tonight. Y/N, have you seen our bionic man around? Is he coming? He better come out tonight or I swear to…”
After Sam leaves to go find Bucky, the three of you wander down to find Nat and start the evening off with a shot or two. You aren’t much of a drinker, so one is enough for you. You much rather enjoy the company of your friend Mary Jane.
The team is getting silly with each other in the kitchen and quickly the room is filled with people yelling at each other to pregame harder, laughing when Nat’s little sister challenges Sam to a chugging contest and wins.
You feel a large hand at the small of your back. You can smell his cologne and know who it is immediately.
“Well don’t you look dashing tonight Sargent Barnes.” You lean in on impulse but stop yourself just as the girls turn around to see who you’re talking to.
“I was just going to say the same thing to you, sweets.” He mumbles in your ear before removing his hand and walking over to Sam.
The alcohol decides to hit you then, leaving you feeling empty that he’s not standing next to you anymore. Neither of you had wanted to have the “conversation” but you knew you were head over heels for him.
“CABS ARE HERE” screams Sam.
“Sam. For the love of God, stop watching Jersey Shore.” Natasha jokes to him.
At the same time Steve screams, “I understood that reference!” Eye rolls are exchanged as you all make your way outside.
The atmosphere is buzzing and you’re so excited to not just be out with your team, but to also have the only bit of family you had with you as well. You finally felt at home, at peace, and were ready for a fun night out.
Bleaker’s is one of those hole-in-the-wall dive bars that from the outside seems like a hard pass, but once you’re in, there’s no other place you’d rather spend a Saturday night. It’s true it started as a bowling alley in the 60’s. That still remains. What’s newer is the arcade in the back, where the old salon used to be. Jimmy bought the space next door, blew out the wall and filled it with arcade games that sometimes work and sometimes eat your money.
After years of being regular patrons, he knows your team well. The minute you walk in, he starts up all your favorite drinks.
“Ah! My best customers! I had a feeling I’d be seeing Earth’s mightiest heroes tonight.” You line up at the bar for whatever Jimmy decides you’re drinking tonight.
“Ah yes, two vodka on the rocks for my little Russian assassins. Sam here’s your vodka red bull which I don’t think you need, but here we are. Steve! Your drink of choice: an Old Style. Wanda, a cosmo for my favorite witch. And who do we have here, Y/N?”
You’re already both in hysterics at the old man behind the bar giving everybody a hard time. “Jimmy, this is my best friend Sarah. She’s visiting from California for a few days.”
“And whatever the lady wants can be put on my tab…” Steve butts in. Sarah immediately turns red but says “well in that case I’ll have vodka soda with lime please!”
Bucky has come up behind you and now you’re both laughing and watching the two of them stare at each other like no one else is in the room.
“Oh no, what did you do Y/N?”
“Let it play out, he’s not completely tripping over his words yet, maybe he’ll finally land a good girl.” You hush to Bucky.
Jimmy stares as well in amusement. “And you two? Your usual?”
“Yes’sir!” You shout over the growing music. Jimmy hands you each a jack and Diet Coke. You tell yourself it’s okay because it’s diet, but you know that’s a bunch of bullshit.
The other great thing about Bleaker’s? The dance floor downstairs. You always joke around that it seems like a nightclub that never closes in Amsterdam or something, but you’re serious. It could be 3 pm and sunny and you’d never know. It’s in the basement, it's always dark and the music is almost always too loud.
Usually that would gross you all out, but the energy tonight is pushing you all downstairs.
You reach back and grab Bucky’s hand not really caring who sees. It’s been months of sneaking around and either everyone knows and is playing it off like they don't or you’re really good at hiding it. Regardless, you’re over hiding. Maybe showing a little PDA tonight will get him out of his shell.
Sarah and Steve are no where in sight, assuming they’re ahead of you, you follow the team downstairs.
Minutes turn into hours. Everyone is dancing, laughing, sweating, screaming the lyrics to every song, and for a little while you can forget you’re a group of superheroes, and can just be normal 30-something year-olds.
You mostly dance with Bucky and quickly realize he’s a better dancer than you thought he would be. Those moves from the 1940’s must still be relevant in some way today, because the way he's grinding up on you and not caring if anyone sees just does something to you.
You work the room, finding Sarah, Wanda, Nat, even Steve for a song before you realize you don't see Bucky. You give it a few minutes thinking maybe he is in the bathroom. After 15 minutes though, you grab Steve’s attention and motion for him to check the bathroom while you check outside.
You race to the alley where you find Jimmy on a smoke break. “Hey Jimmy, have you seen Bucky? I can’t find him.”
“Oh yeah, doll, he took off in a cab about a half hour ago. Looked real flustered, but I didn’t want to press.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You thought you felt his mood shift about an hour ago, he was becoming stiff and quiet. You thought maybe he was just drinking a lot but now you’re realizing the loud music, strobe lights and base must have been triggering him.
“Ugh I’m such a bitch,” you huff as you send Steve a S.O.S text.
You: Hey, Jimmy said he just left. I'm sure he's heading home. I'm going to go find him.
Sire Captain Rogers: Go ahead. I think Sarah and I can find something to do while you find Buck. ;)
You: Yeah I’m sure you can.
You: BEHAVE. She’s my best friend.
Sire Captain Rogers: I know Y/N, don’t worry about us. Let me know when you find him.
You lock your phone and hop in a cab back to the compound.
No one is up or around when you enter through the front. The kitchen has been cleaned up, the dishes done. Probably thanks to THURSDAY, Tony’s beta bot for “cleaning up after you assholes trash the place.”
You smirk and head for the elevators. Heading straight to Bucky’s room, you can tell his light is on but something seems off. You don’t like to use your powers on friends or in the compound, but you close your eyes and reach out with your mind to find his aura. Your eyes snap open. You don’t sense him, you just see red.
Taking this as a good excuse to break into a friend’s room, you burst into the room to find it in disarray. Everything is toppled over, broken glass is on the floor, the bathroom light is on, but all you can see is his blood on the door and the floor. You’re panicked, trying to piece together what happened.
Again, you close your eyes and reach out for the familiar energy of Bucky. You find him in your room on the floor.
“What the fuck?,” you mumble and sprint up the stairs to your apartment. You shoot Steve a text on your way up.
You: Found him, looks like a bad one. I’ll let you know if I need you.
Sir Captain Rogers: Thanks Y/N. I’m just a call away, let me know if you need anything. Night.
Upon entering, you sense he’s in distress. His heart rate is elevated, he’s incredibly sweaty and is panting like a dog.
“Bucky? Buck, it’s me, it’s Y/N.”
Bucky stirs and jumps into a defensive standing position quicker than you can blink. You flip the lights on with a “BABE. Baaabe, it’s me. It’s okay, you’re safe. We’re in the compound. You had a nightmare.”
Bucky’s eyes are wide and alarmed, but you can tell the moment he recognizes you.
Rushing over to you, he takes you into a big hug. “Oh my god. What happened? Are you okay, did I hurt you?”
“No Bucky, no I just found you a minute ago. You had another bad one, what do you need me to do right now for you?”
Bucky stands back and rubs his swollen eyes. “I need to shower, can you help me?”
Typically, this is where it gets exciting, but you knew what he means. Water grounds him. He doesn’t feel like he’s falling in water. It helps him visualize the stress washing off of him.
You help him strip and get in the shower, but before you can even take his jeans off, he jumps in and pulls you in with him. You realize how desperate he is for whatever he’s feeling to pass and your heart sinks.
You’re both standing there, almost fully clothed holding each other. This is the worst you’ve seen him in a long time.
“I’m so sorry if I ruined your night, Y/N. The base sounded like the train, the lights looked like the machine they used on me, what the fuck.”
You aren’t sure what to do so you decide to sit on the ground and pull him down with you. You position yourself behind him so his back is in your chest. Even though he’s so much larger than you, he sinks down enough for you to reach over his shoulders and hold him.
“It’s okay Barnes, just breathe with me. You’re safe. You’re with me, and we’re home. Nobody is going to touch you. I’ve got you, you won’t fall.”
You take in deep breaths so he can match your breathing.
After about 45 minutes, the hot water is out in the tank. Bucky sits forward and turns towards you. You want him to lead right now, so you don’t say anything. Neither does he, but the look in his eyes are telling you something about tonight is different.
With a soft smile on your lips, you cup his cheek until he is really looking at you. “Hun, let’s go lay down, ya? Let me help get you dried off.” Bucky hates when you fuss over him, so when he doesn’t argue, you know to be extra gentle with him.
After getting him up and out of the shower, you think skin-to-skin contact doesn’t seem sexual right now, it feels intimate in a grounding sense, and you know that’s exactly what he needs right now. Bucky seems dazed, almost like he got hit too hard in the head. You yourself are of course a tad over-served, and are quickly realizing the adrenaline of this entire situation is rubbing off.
You get Bucky into bed and turn to make sure his phone is plugged in and that he has a glass of water, but he grabs your wrist before you can move away. “Just leave it, it’s fine.”
“Buck, just let me-“ he grabs your wrist harder.
“Y/N. Please just stay here. Please.”
The entire time you’ve been together, he’s done a lot of things but begging you for anything is not one of them. Suddenly the phone and whatever hell else you were doing doesn’t seem important anymore.
You climb into your usual spot next to him and decide maybe you’ll try to get him to open up. The moment the back of your head hits the pillow, Bucky is facing you. His pleading eyes seem like they want to tell you everything that’s going on in his head, but you know pushing him to talk will just make the nightmares come flooding back too soon.
Instead, you decide to lay on your back and pull him to lay on your chest.
“Just listen to my heart beat, Bucky.” You hear him take a deep breath and settle into your chest.
You start and stop yourself from trying to say something comforting. You’re terrified to say the wrong thing at such a crucial moment. Typically these bad episodes are reserved for a Steve house call. You realize as he’s settling into a comfortable position that he hasn’t asked you to call Steve yet. Bucky trusts you in a way you didn’t realize until now.
You don’t know when, but you start humming the first calming song that comes in your head.
I’ll be seeing you In all the old familiar places That this heart of mine embraces All day through
Bucky picks his head up to look at you. Oh fuck.
“Where did you hear that song?,” he says to you with shiny eyes.
“You sing it all the time when you’re concentrating. I looked it up and added it to my ‘bath time/relax’ playlist. I didn't know Billie Holliday was a favorite of yours."
Bucky was looking at you like maybe this was the first time he saw you, like really saw you. “My mom used to sing that around the house when she was missing my dad.”
“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I can hum a diff-“ you’re cut off with the most searing kiss Bucky has ever given you. He’s crying when he pulls back to look at you again. “Will you keep singing it?”
In that small cafe The park across the way The children's carousel That chestnut tree, the wishing well
By the time you finish the second verse, he has physically relaxed in your arms. You continue rubbing your hand up and down his back and shoulder, stopping to play with his long hair every once in a while.
I'll be seeing you In every lovely summer's day In every thing that's light and gay I'll always think of you that way
“I forgot how much I love hearing this song sung around me.” Bucky whispers so quietly you almost miss it.
I'll find you in the morning sun And when the night is new I'll be looking at the moon But I'll be seeing you…
You stop your caressing when you feel him sit up on one arm.
He leans down to kiss you but stops short to whisper “I love you Y/N.” You kiss him back and wrap your arms around his shoulders, and when you say “I love you too, Bucky,” you’ve never been more sure of something in your life.
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bokettochild · 3 years
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The Worries and Woes of Heroic Hair
Y'all were busting out hair headcannons before I left, so I saved a few and wrote a fic for them.
Featuring:
Pre-maturely grey Twilight
Curly haired Legend
Long haired Four
(As well as a reference to long hair Sky)
Warriors had gained the unfortunate title of ‘pretty boy’.
In a group of beautiful men and boys that literally sent women swooning, no matter what world they were in, he’d somehow been labeled the “pretty” one. Never mind he was more mature looking than half of their number. Never mind that Legend and Hyrule looked like a pair of porcelain dolls hand painted by a master artist. Never mind that Wild literally had half of his world falling heels over head for him. No matter how many women in the War of Ages had gushed about the adult Hero of Time (much to Mask’s annoyance). And sure, let’s just forget that Wars had heard not one, but two princess’s complimenting Twilight’s ass.
Yeah, okay, he was the pretty boy, sure.
Maybe that was because he was the only one in the group that actually had any understanding of a little thing called personal hygiene! Honestly! Had no one introduced the vet to a bathtub when he was younger? Or Wild to a hairbrush? And Hyrule... oh Hyrule...
Honestly, it was a pain, trying to not say something to his brothers that might be taken as rude or offensive. At least his own two boys were a bit better. During the war he’d pounded some sense into their heads after scrubbing their ears clean enough that they could actually hear him when he spoke, and Time and Wind both showed some (although not much more than the others) level of personal grooming, even if it was the basic wash and brush that Wars had required of all of his soldiers.
The others though? He had been beginning to think they might be hopeless, but then he’d had a chance to do something about it.
“Wars?”
“Hmm?” Bright blue darted up from the journal Warriors had been writing in, meeting Wind’s pout with a soft chuckle at his baby-faced brother. One day, Wind would be as grizzled and scruffy as his grandfather (would be his grandfather) but for now he would take him time teasing the kid for his baby-face. After all, it wasn’t like he’d be getting another chance to get revenge on the man who’d teased him up to his wedding day for his “lack of masculine charm”.
“My hair is knotted. In the back.” Wind didn’t even bother waiting for a signal, instead just plopping down in the captain's lap and dropping a brush by his knee. And really, with how the war had gone, Warriors should have expected that.
Any injury that impeded movement meant Wars was helping his two boys with whatever was needed during the war, and near the top of that list had been brushing hair. Broken arm or sprained wrist or whatever Hyrule had diagnosed it as (he’d been a bit too wrapped up in helping hold Wild still so he and Legend could treat the kid’s crushed hand to hear the healer’s final word), he was always happy to help the younger hero sort out his problems.
At least Wind let him help, instead of sending him scandalized looks and rude signs at the mere mention of a bath, like Legend did, or simply darting away like Hyrule.
“Wind,” Sky frowned slightly. “You didn’t have to disturb Wars, any of us would have been willing to help.”
The sailor cocked a brow, leaning back into his touch as he worked over the knot with nimble fingers well accustomed to working through tangled golden curls. “Says the Hero of Eternal Bedhead.”
Crystal blue eyes darted up to messy bangs. “Is it really that bad?”
“Yes.” Sailor and captain deadpanned together, matching grins on their faces as they stared at the Skyloftian.
“Oh feathers.” Sky huffed, running his hands through his hair and looking at the two expectantly. “Is that better?”
Wind snorted. “Sky, you need a hairbrush for your bird’s nest.”
“But,” Sky cocked his head like a confused puppy. “I don’t have a bird’s nest?”
“He means that your hair is a mess.” He chuckled, pausing in his work to pat the ground at his side. “Here, I’ll do you next, ‘kay?” And bless Sky for being a patient and reasonable person, because at the very least the Skyloftian just sauntered over easily and sat hot-cross-buns on the ground beside him, watching lazily as he worked at the sailor’s messy hair.
“It’s not that bad,” The Sailor huffed. “You can’t honestly be taking this long.” The kid wasn’t fooling him though, Wind was leaning into the touch, almost slumped against his chest in a boneless pile of teenager.
“You’re dry as a desert.” He scolded softly in response, rubbing some of the bristly hair between his fingers. “I’ve told you salt water dries your hair out, you need to take care of it or it’ll never grow out properly.”
Wind shifted awkwardly. “I didn’t have time. I did try, I mean it! It just... We’re always so busy and...”
His hands were already reaching for his pack. “You’re lucky mine dries out too. I’ll need to get more in the next town, but I think this oil can last us both long enough to get you some again.”
“Oil?” Sky frowned thoughtfully. “What for?”
“Split ends and dry hair.” Came the practiced answer as he rubbed the substance in question over his hands and began to card it through the sailor’s parched curls. “I suppose you could say it’s like with birds. They have to oil their feathers to stay healthy, right?”
“Oh! Okay, yeah, that makes sense.” The Skyloftian mulled over the concept for a moment. “We need to do that to our hair?”
Long fingers stopped mid stroke, royal blue blinking slowly in the clueless sky child’s direction. “Oh, you poor, clueless bird-boy you, your hair must be parched!”
Wind’s giggles shook them both, but Sky simply looked hurt. “I try. How was I supposed to know?”
Fingers slick with hair oil curled to point at the other hero. “I am massaging this stuff into your thirsty scalp right now. Wind, move.”
The sailor tumbled, giggling from Wars’ lap, leaving Sky to stare down at the captain’s crossed legs. “I’m- Warriors I am not sitting in your lap.”
“I don’t expect you to.” Brush in one hand and bottle of hair oil in the other, Warriors moved to stand behind the Skyloftain. “Just stay right there and let me work, and I swear if someone else tells me to my face that they’re not taking care of themselves- Sky! Look at this!”
The Skyloftian shifted, trying to look for only a moment before huffing. “Warriors, I can’t see the top of my own-”
“When’s the last time you trimmed this?” Brittle tips crinkled under his fingers as he stared at the mess that was Sky’s hair. “Your split ends are horrible!”
“Crimson usually trims it for me.” Came the softly mumbled response, and Wars had to hold back an affronted squawk at the words.
“You’re entrusting the care of your hair to a bird? Sky, my lovely, my dear friend, my brother, what the actual Ladies?”
“He does a good job!”
“If you call this rat’s nest a good job! Honestly, it’s no wonder Legend finally agreed to let you cuddle him, he must feel right at home with this mess!”
“Ouch.” Sky huffed, crossing his arms loosely and pouting.
“That aside,” He began working the first knot out, fluffing Sky’s hair lightly in his fingers. “It’s a good color, nice volume too. Have you ever considered growing it out? Without the split ends?”
“Huh?”
Caramel hair parted easily in his hands, springy and soft despite the brittle ends. “You’d look fetching with long hair, Chosen One. My, imagine what Sun would say if she saw you!” Sky stiffened as the soldier ducked down, voice lowering and eyes glinting with mischief as he whispered in his friend’s ear. “If she wasn’t already swooning at seeing you again, she’d be dizzy at the sheer beauty.”
“Wars!” Long ears twitched, tellingly red as the Skyloftian battled a fierce blush.
But the captain was already lost in his rant, taking pleasure in making Wind continue to giggle as Sky whined softly in protest at his teasing. “I can see it now! You arrive fresh out of battle, sword in hand and hair whipping in the wind, cape swirling like the wings of the goddess herself! She sees you. Your eyes meet. You shoot her one of your dashing smiles and she stumbles back, breathless, and you have to dart forwards to catch her before she swoons away altogether, so bedazzled she is by your handsome visage!” He flourished with a smile, letting oiled locks fall over Sky’s eyes with a laugh as the Skyloftian blushed brighter, not bothering to shift his bangs and instead hiding behind them, trying and failing to hide a pleased smile.
Wind didn’t stop giggling until Sky had had to punch the captain in the leg to make him finally cease the teasing.
“Smithy,” Twilight’s laughter rung through camp as he brushed long bangs out of the smithy’s eyes, the younger hero still smushed against the rancher's side sleepily, headband askew and half hanging in his eyes. The boy’s hair curtained his face, falling back into place the moment Twilight lifted his hand again, producing rumbling laughter form the farm-hand. “Four, you- when in Ordonia’s name did you last trim your hair?”
“’s not that long.” Came the murmured reply as Four pressed his face further into Twilight’s side, nestling closer with an irritable huff. “Leave ‘lone, Twi.”
The smithy might have denied it but... his hair really had grown out.
It wasn’t really that apparent with the headband keeping it back, and Four was decent enough at keeping his hair out of his face. But headbands, no matter how trusty, didn’t stay up forever, and when one was as active as a Hero of Courage, it wasn’t uncommon to find one’s self with their hair swinging loose in battle. Not that most of them minded, Wild kept his hair tied carefully and Legend tucked all of his under a hat, meanwhile the others all had shorter locks that, other than the swishing of their bangs, mostly stayed out of their faces.
Four on the other hand...
Four’s headband had fallen loose into a mud puddle, and until he was able to clean it the smithy had been walking around like a sheepdog, bangs fluffing into his eyes and making the shortest hero huff in an annoyed manner as he kept swiping his bangs aside. Unfortunately, they weren’t long enough to tuck behind his ears, only to hang in his face and send him stumbling over and into all sorts of things with sharp yelps and soft swears as the hero closest to him would have to offer a hand or scoop up the small smithy again.
Wars didn’t say anything, but when Four finally approached him one evening, eyes flickering icy blue as he dashed his bangs out of the way and tugged at the scarf draped around the captain’s neck (the others’ favorite way of getting his attention he had found).
“Hey there, smithy, what’s up?”
“Cut them.” Four huffed, pushing the loose hair back again only to have them drift back over his glinting eyes, and then, as if an afterthought, he tacked on ‘Please?’.
Royal blue darted up to Sky, who smiled on the edge of the campfire, a knowing look in his eyes. “Did Sky tell you I could help?”
“No. I figured that out myself. He just... pushed me.”
Laughter bubbled up in his chest. “Ah.”
“So, can you help? Or do I need to wander around looking like a Mogma?” Sky could be heard muttering across the camp at that, and Four’s ears twitched as he huffed, clearly having taken offense at whatever had been said.
He nodded, a bit unsure why Four glared across the fire at Sky, but willing to help. Oh goddesses, was he willing to help; Four’s hair bugged him nearly as much as Wild’s did, and he had been dying to fix it for the smithy. He wasn’t sure what Sky had said, but he was thankful for the other knight’s willingness to aid him in his battle against poor hygiene, and if he could turn another hero with the power of a good haircut, well! “Anything you have in mind? Just what you had before, or...?”
“Bangs.” Four dropped down hot-cross-buns, just like Sky had the other day, in front of him, arms crossed and expectant as he huffed at his long bangs.
“Right.” His brush and scissors were already sitting at the ready as he reached out to gently push the hair out of his friend’s eyes. “You good?”
“Annoyed.” Four sulked. “I can’t see anything and Twilight has been called me a sheep-dog.” Accurate. “I just want my hair short again, but the last time I cut it, it looked like I was attacked by a cat.” The smithy shivered, clutching at his sleeves as he shook his head, hair falling back into his eyes as he did so. “I just let it grow after that, but the bangs bother me if I can’t push them back.”
“Noted.”
Four’s hair was a bit silkier than the others’, but similarly brittle, although that was likely due to the heat of the forge rather than sea salt and extended time in the sky. He didn’t even bother asking about oiling the locks as he worked, brushing out all of Four’s hair with care and sectioning out the bangs with the same amount of agonizing detail Legend put into his paintings or Wild put into his cooking.
“Hair cut?” Twilight called from across camp.
“You could use one too,” Four huffed, unmoving save for his eyes darted to glance over his shoulder. “Your hair is beginning to look like wolf ears, rancher. Wolfie might take offense that you’re stealing his look and come maul you.”
Chuckles sounded around the camp, Legend wheezing lightly while Time and Wild shared a look. Wars didn’t know what that was about, but he smiled as he worked, humming lightly under his breath as he clipped a bit here and a touch there, releasing the hair to stare at it, adjusting it a bit, taking another section in hand and snipping it, and repeating the whole process.
Four was still as a statue the whole time, occasionally humming along to whatever tune happened to be on Warriors’ mind at the moment, but otherwise as poised and picturesque as a statue as the captain worked over the smithy’s blond locks.
This close up, Warriors was beginning to wonder why they never met any lovely admirers of the smithy, Four was certainly not lacking in the looks department, and had the kid lived in his time he’d find himself having to beat off girls with a stick. Honestly, how was he the pretty boy here?
“Nearly done?” Came the patient hum, and he snapped himself back to reality as he brushed Four’s bangs back into place, trimmed and tidy, along with the rest of his short hair.
“Yep.” The scissors finally came to rest in his lap as he whisked away the cloak that he’d used to catch the trimmed hairs. “My, my, smithy, you almost look as if you were going courting! Legend, lend a man your shield for a tick, would you? Four needs to see his new cut.”
The veteran rolled his eyes, but the shield was offered readily enough when Four trotted his way over, and while the smithy looked a bit surprised that Wars had bothered to braid most of his hair out of the way during the cut, he didn’t look at all displeased.
Wars counted that as a win.
He’d run out of oil a few days ago, and already his hair was beginning to frizz in this thrice-forsaken heat.
Being born with curly hair was nothing of the blessing his mother had made it out to be, no matter how she liked playing with her ‘baby boy’s’ hair. Of course, his beloved liked it too, but he was going to chalk that up to being a woman thing, curls were a pain if they weren’t on kids, especially if they were eon him.
Thank Hylia that Lilith had taught him to straighten it all out, he would have been driven half out of his mind if he hadn’t been able to control it on his way through basic, and the teasing would have been so much worse than it actually had been.
As was, the captain was only too happy when they next came to his Castletown, and after he’d made sure the others were settled in the castle with his cousin, he’d gracefully made his exit and headed out to the town. Getting through the streets was a pain, his armor and scarf giving him away as the hero and practically inviting the whole market to start competing for his attention, along with the hundreds of shoppers who surged close with questions and thanks and admiration. Not for the first time, Warriors found himself thankful that he handled crowds better than many of his fellow soldiers, and even if all the attention was a bit much, he wasn’t overwhelmed like poor Wild would have been.
Oh heavens, the day they finally figured out how to explain the portals and heroes nonsense to the public to excuse the sudden aging of the Hyrulian Hero’s child, Wild was likely going to have to start wearing a hood or something when they went into town.
The dye shop was a way into the market, and it had taken quite the bit of fancy footwork to avoid stepping on anyone as he’d answered questions and received thanks from the enthusiastic, if not slightly push, people of Hyrule. If he closed the door of the shop after him with a sigh of relief though, that was between him and Gyssel, the shopkeeper.
“Back again, Link? Same materials as the last time?”
“If you please.” He nodded with a smile. “Though I might have a bit of a glance around, I’ve a friend in need of a few things.”
The old woman nodded with a chuckle. “Right then. Oh, and if you see those two lovely gents who popped in here earlier, would you be willing to lend ‘em a hand? Poor dears looked lost as two minish in a fairy pond when they stumbled in here, but I’ve been batting a thousand with the customers all day and haven’t had a chance to pop over and offer help. You know the shop same as I do, so, if you have a moment, could you check in on them while I wrap your things?”
“Of course.” He nodded, smiling his best as he moved towards the back wall.
The other voices in the shop were mostly those of tittering ladies and mischief making pranksters, all too young and too high to belong to the ‘lovely gents’ that Gyssel had been speaking of, and it wasn’t hard to trail the rumble of a man’s voice to the back of the store where the hair dyes were. He grinned as he rounded the corner, but froze when he found himself face to face with a startled, and maybe somewhat abashed rancher.
“Twilight?”
“Warriors?”
“Shit, Wars is here?”
Royal blue darted down to meet the snapping violet of the veteran. “Legend? What are the two of you doing in here of all places? Are you lost?”
“No.” Legend huffed, foot tapping agitatedly at the floor as he gnawed his bottom lip, a sure sign of awkwardness if one knew the vet.
“What are you doing- oh.” Twilight’s face faded from confusion to understanding. “You’re the city boy, of course you shop in joints like this.”
He cocked a brow, hands coming to rest on his hips as he stared down the two other heroes. “Says the guy who’s been wandering around looking for something long enough the owners worried. Honestly, what could the two of you even need?”
Midnight and violet glanced warily at each other, and to his surprise, twin flushed lighted his friend’s faces as Legend had crossed his arms and Twi had rubbed at his neck.
“Hair dye.” The rancher admitted softly.
“And shampoo.” Legend had tacked on.
Warriors let his eyes blow wide an overdramatic gasp sounding in the small corner of the shop as he rested a hand on his collar. “Why, vet, you don’t mean to tell me you’re planning on actually taking a bath, are you! My heavens, what next? Will Hyrule somehow produce a wedding cake in time for Time and Malon to announce they’re having a baby?”
“They’re what!?!” Twilight yelped, sounding, ridiculously, like a dog that has just been kicked.
“I’m teasing, rancher.” He chortled. “Trust me, if Time knew of such a thing, he wouldn’t have shut up about it. Miss Malon’s still trim and terrifying as last we saw her; I have little doubt.” At the rancher’s breath of relief, he shook his head. “Honestly though, soap? Vet, last I checked-”
“It’s hot.” Legend interrupted, avoiding meeting his gaze by rolling his eyes.
“And?”
“And in case you didn’t know, our resident vet is a-”
“Don’t say it!” Legend huffed, glaring at Twilight and tugging his blue cap tighter over his head.
Come to think of it, Legend hadn’t taken the baby-blue cap off in ages...
“Is a what?”
Twilight looked down warily at the seething veteran, face twisted up between a playful grin and a wary frown, as if he didn’t yet know whether he wanted to tease and face the vet’s wrath or hold his tongue and avoid making a scene.
“Look,” Warriors sighed, glancing between the two country boys with a sigh. “I won’t tease at all, alright? But the sooner you own up to whatever nonsense you did to yourself, the sooner we can find you what you need and get ourselves out of here.”
The flush on Legend’s face darkened, eyes darting down as the vet shuffled his feet, and Wars found himself being reminded that for all the vet’s snark and sass, he really was as much of a kid as Wild and Wind were, just more accustomed at having to act otherwise.
Thin fingers rubbed at the rings on the vet’s pale hands. “Well, you see- that is- augh!”
Something inside him blossomed with warmth, a smile stretching across his face. Golden Three, Legend really was just an awkward teenager, wasn’t he? He even stumbled over his words when he was embarrassed, just like Time used to. Of course, Time had been twelve and Legend was nineteen, but that was beside the point.
“So-” The vet was nearly pouting as he struggled with his words, fingers rubbing steadily at his rings as he avoided Wars’ gaze. “You know how Ravio has curly hair?”
“Yes.”
“And you know how Ravio and I are- uh, each other's- reflect-”
A laugh bubbled out of his throat unexpectedly as he reached out to ruffle what could be seen of the vet’s frizzy bangs. “You’re a curly top! Why didn’t you say sooner?” Legend glared at him with a huff, but violet didn’t shift to indigo, so he knew it was all just an act. “Wind and I are too, I was actually in here to get some things for the two of us, and Sky too. I can help you as well if you don’t mind, just let me-” He motioned to the blue cap that was pulled snig down to Legend’s ears.
The vet huffed, but reached up to finger the blue fabric. “You won’t laugh, right?” Stern eyes met his own.
“Of course.” He smiled reassuringly.
Legend’s gaze searched his face for a moment, wary, but open, and even if it made him uncomfortable (the odd glint of gold at the edges of the vet’s eyes was a bit unsettling) he withstood it until Legend nodded, seemingly to himself, and pulled off his cap.
Pink curls spilled down to the vet’s shoulders as a bright blush colored pale cheeks. Twilight didn’t make it any better by reaching over to ruffle the vet’s head, chuckling soft and warm and surprisingly fond as Legend hissed back at him.
“Can I- that is- do you mind if I touch? I can help you find what you want better if I know what you need.”
A stiff nod.
The pink hair was just like fairy-floss, but less sticky (still dirty though) and he had to remind himself what he was doing once he got his fingers in it. A quick check at the texture and ends of Legend’s hair, as long as a quick check of the scalp and roots told him all he needed.
“Whatever dye you used to do this messed you up, vet. Honestly, I don’t know what you were thinking, but you’re dry as a mulduga’s arse. Did you bleach your hair before dying it or something?” There was a murmur in reply, but not anything he could really make out. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I said that’s me natural color.” Legend huffed, tensing under his hands. “I bleached it blonde a few months back, but no, I didn’t dye this shit, it just happened.”
Twilight, very unhelpfully, giggled.
Warriors blinked. “You have pink hair?”
“Yes.”
He fought the chuckle that built up in his chest, but it did little good as he ruffles the frizzy curls and let Legend replace his hat. “Alright then! Well, I’d avoid bleaching again if I was you. The pinks out and it’s healthier if you give it a rest between dyes. I have to admit though,” He settled his hands on his hips and looked between the two other heroes with a smirk. “I never took either of you two as the sort to dye your hair.”
“Throws off the guards.” Legend huffed, tugging his cap back over his hair and making Warriors wince. Ah yes, Legend’s Hyrule’s guards.
“Fair enough. I can find you something to help with the drying out and dye damage. Twi though...” He frowned, stroking his chin in thought. “Why do you even need hair dye? Trying something new?”
Now it was the rancher’s turn to look embarrassed, rubbing at his neck and ruffling his hair. “No, actually. I jist need- rather- want? I guess? I-”
Legend huffed, patting the rancher’s arm in a rare show of compassion. “He’s been greying early and it’s making him self-conscious. I told him we could look for a dye to hide it, since he didn’t want to go about stealing Time’s position as the resident Old Man.”
Oh. Well, that made sense. “Right! Fair enough. So, you want your natural shade, yes?” At the rancher's nod he pressed on, clapping his hands as he listed what they needed. “So, hair oil, some dye, and shampoo for Legend, preferably meant for damaged and curly hair. Anything else?”
Even though the two shook their heads, they all walked out with a bit more than what Warriors had listed, but despite the fact that Legend complained about it all, no one seemed to mind too much when he pulled the three of them together after the others had gone to bed and helped show them had to use the various toiletries without making too very much of a mess. It cost a pretty penny to get them all sorted, but Legend was clean, Twilight was a brunette again (the silver streaks were rather fetching though, and he’d made sure to make sure Twilight knew that before they dyed it all away) and Wind and Sky had what they needed to prevent their hair drying out again.
And even if it made a sizable dent in his wallet, he’d refused to be paid back. It was worth it anyway, since now he and Legend both had straight hair again (and the vet had actually washed!).
He could see now why Wild and Hyrule liked playing with their respective mentors’ hair though, it was almost addictive.
Time took one look at the three youngest and groaned, and Warriors almost echoed the action.
“What were you three even doing?” His now-eldest huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh as he tried not to look at the three teens, all of which were covered in mud and grass stains, and only looking slightly remorseful, despite their horrid clothing and scraped faces.
Had it been anyone but Wild and Wind, Wars would have sat back and watched as karma paid her long overdue visit to the mischievous mask-loving hero, but since it was his kids that caught up in paying back the silver in his own hair, Wars had to stand with Time and try his very hardest not to chuckle at the sight before him.
It took no trouble at all to picture Mask sitting, unrepentant, amid the other youngsters, a challenging look on his face as he dared the captain to even try and ground him for running off again.
“We were exploring.” Hyrule grinned sheepishly, rubbing at the mud that had dried on the side of his neck. “We um-”
“We fell in a swamp.” Wild snorted, wrinkling his nose and shaking some gunk from his hands with a pout. “Even I think we stink.”
Time’s lips twitched, brows struggling to remain in a scowl as he answered, voice wavering with a hint of laughter that made Wars smile to himself. “Is that so, Cub?”
“We smell like boko guts.”
“Or boko crap!” Wind cackled, the only one not soaked in swamp goo but instead spattered with ordinary mud that came from likely tripping and falling in the dirt from laughing too hard.
“Bathe.” Time chuffed, shaking his head fondly. “All three of you. Rivers there and I’m sure Wars has soap aplenty to help.” Hang on, what? Time’s eye met his own, blinking- winking? with a bright and shit eating grin. “Have fun with you sons, dad.”
Oh Ladies, Karma messed up again, didn’t she?
“Mask, I swear-” He growled, glaring at his- was Time his eldest now? His middle child still? The youngest since he’d been the last to join the family?
“Don’t, you’ll set a bad example.” The overgrown forest gremlin chuckled, walking away with a condescending pat of the shoulder.
Some things really never changed, huh?
“Right then.” the captain turned to glare stillness back into the three youngsters, two of which were already trying to sneak away, and the third- of thank Hylia for Wind, the kid was standing at perfect attention with a smirk on his face that screamed ‘I’m the eldest and I’m about to watch my little brothers get scolded and I’m going to enjoy every second of it’, snotty little salt-bathed brat. “Jump in or I punt you.”
Hyrule and Wild exchanged a look, a sure sign of danger, and both sprinted in opposite directions.
He huffed a laugh. Amateurs. Mask and Wind had run him ragged during the war, but once you’ve fought to pre-teens on the daily, there's nothing a pair of teenagers can pull on you that will truly surprise you or throw you off. It was the work of moments to have Wild slung under one arm (wolf pups, honestly, Mask was the same way) and Hyrule by the back of his collar (Wind’s customary position).
“H-how?” Both boys stammered.
“Experience, mud moblins.”
“Do I weight anything to you?” Wild stammered, staring up at him with wide blue eyes.
The grin on his face was easier than usual in situations like these, but then again both teens had given up fighting against him sooner than the last two had ever done. “Hardly. You’ve always been a lightweight.” And with those words he promptly administered a light kick to Hyrule’s lower back, knocking the kid floundering into the stream, and following up with a well-practiced toss that send Wild rocketing in after.
Wind, already stripped down to his shorts and standing waist deep in the water, raised his hands with a shit eating grin. “Six out of Ten, Wild.” The little sea monster called to a spluttering Wild as the kid surfaced, only his face peeking above the surface as he treaded water with a pout. “You need to work on your form, but otherwise- ack!”
A wave splashed up from Hyrule’s direction and Wild sent an appreciative grin the other boy’s way while Wind’s grin melted into a playful one, eyes glinting dangerously.
“Oh, that’s it! You’re just asking for trouble now! Never start a water battle with a pirate, you two, you won’t like how it ends!”
Another, mischief filled, glance was exchanged and both feral heroes descended on the young sailor. It was like watching cucco’s descend on a bokoblin, and Warriors watched with laughter bubbling in his chest as he stripped off his gunk-stained tunic, courtesy of the mud-covered boys he’d wisely decided to pick up, and moved on to his chainmail. The sound of the three youngest heroes' shrieking and shouting sweet music to his ears as Time and the other older heroes made camp just off of the riverbank, teasing each other and generally messing around.
“Wars, why are you- are you joining us?” Wild cocked his dripping head with a curious look as he watched him.
The undershirt slipped off easily as he waded into the stream’s center. “Of course, you two got me muddy too after all, and it’s not like I trust y’all to actually clean up by-” At the slowly spreading grins on the faces of the three, the captain realizes his mistake. “I don’t trust you all to clean up properly, so I’m-”
“Warriors said ‘y’all’!” Wind chortled, eyes glinting madly as a grin stretched over his face. “Oh boy! Just wait ‘till I-”
“Slip of the tongue.” He clipped back, hands settling on his hips as he stared down the three teens. “You tell Twilight about this and I will personally wash your mouth out with soap.”
“You’re the one who said it!” Hyrule pointed out.
“And whoever tells the rancher is committing a verbal atrocity that will only lead to far more in the future.” He huffed. “No one tells, you hear me?”
Wild looked between the others, brows furrowed and lips pursed as he took in Wind’s triumphant grin and Warriors’ scowl. “What’s wrong with saying ‘y’all’?”
The captain staggered back dramatically, hand on his chest and a horrified expression on his face as he stared at his son. “No! Never say that word! That word is an abomination!”
“What word?” Hyrule cocked his head, eyes glinting knowingly, but the captain failed to recognize it in time.
“’Y’all’!” He spat with contempt. “We do not say ‘y’all’ in this house! ‘Y’all’ is a cursed word and the next person who says it is-” - ‘Is on Mask watching duty’ was his go to consequence, but that wouldn’t exactly work right now; Time was a bit old to actually need a supervisor- “is on clothes washing duty with Legend.” He settled on at last, choosing the chore that everyone except, surprisingly, the veteran minded.
“Say the man who just said it four times in a row.” Wind teased, darting out of his grasp with a wide grin.
“Wind! I was trying to see how many times I could make him say it!” Hyrule huffed, pouting at his brother adorably.
“I still don’t get it.” Wild grumbled. “It’s a word? There’s nothing wrong with it as far as I know, ‘y’a-” The captain’s hand was clamped around the kid’s mouth before he could finish his sentence.
“Let's just not.” Warriors huffed; he was beginning to mourn Twilight’s mentor position at the moment. Fortunately, Wild was willing enough to still in is hands and not push the topic, unlike the other two who just egged each other on with ever widening grins. “Right.” He rolled his eyes. “First one with a clean face gets the strawberry scented soap; go.”
Silence fell as nothing save splashing rang over the stream as faces ducked beneath the water, all three boys falling for his favorite trick of all time. Heck, even the old man would probably still cave to the offer of strawberry soap, even now that he was an adult, and Wars couldn’t blame him at all; strawberry scented bubbles were the best bubbles and Twilight and his goat-milk soap could go sniff a skunk if they wanted to contest that.
It took hardly any time at all for all three to emerge, fresh faces and glowing, three sets of eyes al sparkling up at him as a warm chuckle blossomed in his throat. Naturally, he gave the promised soap to all three, citing the ‘I can’t tell who finished first so you all win’ excuse that Grandfather had taught him ages ago.
Wind dutifully set about scrubbing himself clean, and in the meantime, he guided the less experienced duo. “Take so much,” He dolloped a generous potion into Hyrule’s cupped hands. “And rub your hands together, yes, just like that, work it up to a nice lather and just scrub it all over. Take care you get the smelliest bits first so you don’t run out of soap before you get there, yeah?” Both forest children nodded, dutifully following his instructions as he moved to help scrub the traveler’s sopping curls.
It was an easy pattern to fall into, scrubbing the two heads with especial care to remove any sticks and twigs he found along the way. Hyrule was the easier of the two, but Wild held still better while he worked, almost melting under his fingers as he messaged suds into his son’s long locks, a light smile playing over both their faces as he worked, content to sit in the cooling water of the stream as the sun began to set, hands buried in his kid’s long hair as he worked out mud and filth and who knows what else.
Rinsing the sweet-scented bubbles started out innocently enough, but Wars was given a front row seat to watching an accidental splash descend into a full-on war on the water as he scrubbed his own hair clean, and well, if he joined in once he was finished, well, someone had to show Wind that he wasn’t the only hero with some experience on the water.
Wars sighed as he watched Time stirring quietly on his bedroll.
Honestly, his middle kid (he’d finally settled on letting Wind retain his position on oldest, since there was no way Time could be the eldest brother with his gremlin behavior) was something of an idiot. Oh, he loved all three of his boys dearly, but Time was an ass and everyone who knew him well knew it (except maybe Twilight, but that guy was an ass too).
Time hadn’t been sleeping recently, and it was easy to see in the dark bags around his eyes and the almost drifting expression on his face at nights. It was for lack of trying either, the kid- man? - the hero would settle down on his bedroll every night same as the others, but even with sharp eyes shut tight and blanket pulled to his ears, the ‘Old Man’ couldn’t lie still for more than thirty minutes, constantly shifting and fidgeting on his bedroll even as the other heroes steadily dropped off to sleep.
It was just the two of them now, the captain on watch and their leader trying to pretend he was asleep with a scowl on his face.
He was scratching again.
“Alright, that’s enough of that.” war clapped his hands against his knees and pushed himself p, staling over to stand over the largest of the bedrolls and staring down at the lump within. “What’s up, Sprout? You normally snore like a hinox all night long, what’s eating you?”
A single blue eye stared up at him wearily. “If I knew, I would have killed it by now.”
Oof, bad night then. “Do you have any idea what it could be?” He was already settling down next to the group leader’s head, hands reaching to grasp Time’s own and bring them down from where he was, likely unconsciously, clawing at the sides of his face.
“No.” Came the frustrated huff.
“Missing Miss Malon?” He suggested, running his fingers through short blonde hair thoughtfully, mind miles away in a two-story house at castle town as he fell into the all too familiar trap of playing with one of his boys’ hair.
“I thought so at first, and while I do, it doesn’t usually stop me from sleeping.” Time grumbled, staring up at the night sky with pursed lips. “It’s not nightmares or visions either, if anything my dreams have been normal for once.”
“Anxiety perhaps? Are you worrying about the others? Twilight, maybe? Wild?” At the questioning glance he received he shrugged. “Kept me up enough nights, even if you two were there. A bad thing happens once and you're not likely to forget it.”
“Hmm.” Time hummed, leaning unconsciously into his hands and settling on his bed-roll, shoulders falling lax as his single good eyes fluttered softly. “Maybe.”
Whatever it was, it wasn’t bad enough that War’s fingers didn’t put it to rest, and time was asleep in mere minutes, soft snores rumbling over the camp as the captain continued his ministrations, eyes and ears sharp and alert for any disturbance near in within the camp, but body relaxed as he kept the steady rhythm of his fingers through short and silky hair.
When his watch was over though, and it was time to wake the veteran to take his, Wars found himself stuck. Time's fingers were curled tightly in his blue scarf, the man’s head resting easy against his thigh, and any motion small of subtle, would likely send majestic blue fluttering open again with an exhausted air.
Ah well, time to be creative.
Legend grumbled, as usual, at being woken by having his feet touched, and the captain echoed his discomfort as he wrings is sore and likely sprained hand. Time was still asleep though, so there was that at least. Now just to figure out how best to position himself so he could sleep.
Soldier’s experience won over logic, and Wars was asleep in seconds, leaving the camp under Legend’s watch and Time snoozing blissfully at his side.
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aspoonofsugar · 3 years
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Ironwood and Cinder: The Final Word
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Cinder: And that’s… checkmate.
The Final Word of the volume is Cinder’s and it is meaningful she says it to Ironwood.
As a matter of fact Ironwood and Cinder are two sides of the same coin on many levels. This is conveyed also structurally.
Volume 7 is mostly about Ironwood’s tragic spiral. We are shown him struggle with his flaw throughout the whole volume, but in the end he loses to it and becomes just as dangerous as Salem:
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Oscar: Then you're as dangerous as she is, James.
Not only does volume 8 close with Cinder instead, but it also opens with her:
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And it even gives us her backstory:
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Why does it happen? And why is Cinder’s final line so important when it comes to her foiling with Ironwood?
GRAVITY
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It is not by chance that Watts calls both Ironwood and Cinder out before the climax of respectively volume 7 (Ironwood) and volume 8 (Cinder). This is because, as stated above, volume 7 is Ironwood’s volume, while volume 8 is Cinder’s. So they both are confronted with a truth about themselves and their reaction to it influences their stories in the Atlas arc.
In a sense, even if Watts is the one dangerously hanging over an abyss... it is actually Ironwood and Cinder who are on the brink. They are deciding Watts’s survival, but they are also deciding their own destiny.
They are choosing if to fall because of gravity or if to fly in the sky victorious.
At the same time, the two scenes with Watts show how Cinder and Ironwood are both similar and opposites.
AS ABOVE, SO BELOW
Ironwood and Cinder are nothing, but two products of Atlas’s society.
Ironwood was born at the very top:
Watts: You just stood atop it and called yourself a giant!
Cinder existed at the very bottom:
Watts: You think you're entitled to everything just because you've suffered, but suffering isn't enough! You can't just be strong, you have to be smart! You can't just be deserving, you have to be worthy! But all you have ever been, is a BLOODY MIGRAINE!
Watts is in the middle and he represents the worst traits of both.
He wants everything, just like Cinder:
Ironwood: I gave you everything you could have wanted!
But differently from Cinder it was no true he had nothing. He was successful, had food, clothes and respect. Still, he was never satisfied and ended up disgracing himself in the search of something more.
He also disregards feelings in favor of rationality, just like Ironwood:
Watts: Our tin soldier’s heart has cost him his mind.
And he sees people under him as inherently inferior:
Watts: Yes, yes, please keep your posse in check.
This is why his death is fitting:
Cinder: I merely added more flames to the fires of Atlas.
He burns with Atlas aka the city he wants to destroy, but also a symbol of who he is deep down.
What is more, his death happens specifically because he blindly follows his wishes:
Watts: Oh, believe me, this is everything I've ever wanted.
And because he is outsmarted and manipulated by Cinder:
Cinder: You deserve this, Arthur. We'll be back.
He is proud of his genius and rationality, but in the end he dies because of his feelings of pettiness.
In short, Watts, Cinder and Ironwood represent three social classes of Atlas and how the system corrupts people at every level. In general, all three want to be at the very top, but disreguard and mistreat the ones below.
-This is why Ironwood seeks control even in situations where he is not in charge, like the Vytal Festival. He also challenges Ozpin’s authority and leadership because he is not used not to be the one deciding. At the same time, he is shown ready to discard Mantle in multiple occasions.
-This is why Watts can call out Ironwood’s arrogance without seeing he is exactly the same as him.
-Finally, this is why Cinder lashes out at people she sees as Atlas elites (the Schnees, Ironwood, Watts), but treats those below her just like she was treated:
Emerald: We don't need him! Everything was going fine! (a slap is heard, and she cries out in pain)
Cinder: Do not mistake your place.
Mercury: Oh yeah? Tell that to--
Cinder: Quiet.
THE ENEMIES OF TRUST
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Both Ironwood and Cinder’s left arms are artificial. Ironwood’s is mechanical, while Cinder’s is Grimm.
Their respective arms convey opposite approaches to things.
On a more general level, they are respectively linked to Creation (Ironwood’s mechanical arm) and to Destruction (Cinder’s Grimm arm). As a matter of fact a robotic arm is a human creation, while Grimms are nothing, but the symbol of destruction.
On a personal level, their arms hint at the two characters’ opposite personalities.
Ironwood’s arm can’t feel pain.
Cinder’s is instead linked to pain and feelings in different ways:
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Raven: Aura can't protect your arm, it's Grimm.
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Salem: You chose to disobey my specific instructions just to fail again.
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Cinder: She’s back…
Cinder feels great pain whenever her Shadow Hand is cut because she can’t protect it with aura. At the same time, it is used by Salem to torture her. Finally, it links her to Salem to the point that she knows when her Master is back.
In other words, Cinder’s arm lets her feel more, while Ironwood’s lets him feel less.
This difference is mirrored by both the ways Ironwood and Cinder respectively attack Watts and by their semblances:
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Ironwood’s Mettle lets Ironwood suppress his own feelings, so that he can pursue any objective, no matter how cruel or immoral it is. It makes him “superhuman”, but in a very negative sense.
Cinder’s Scorching Caress represents Cinder’s explosive emotions. It is a form of self-expression, which is both destructive and self-destructive.
Ironwood’s semblance is about repression, while Cinder’s is about lashing out.
Similarly, Ironwood goes after Watts at the cost of his arm and he ignores the pain he feels:
Watts: I wouldn't do that if I were you. I mean, unless you're hoping to add more metal to that body of yours.
Cinder instead goes after Watts to vent her anger:
Cinder: What do you mean, she'll destroy herself? How am I supposed to take her power if she's dead?!
Both are extremes and both are wrong, as Winter explains:
Winter: But yes Penny, we must still acknowledge our personal feelings, wrestle with them. It ensures us that we’re on the right path. It’s what makes us human.
Ironwood and Cinder should aknowledge their own feelings not to be consumed by them.  It is also the only way for them to truly be humans, not machines or monsters, but simply people.
Both characters almost succeed just before the climax of their respective volumes.
Ironwood tries to open up to others:
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And Cinder shows vulnerability:
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However, none of them is able to capitalize on this chance for development. This is ironically because of each other:
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Cinder messes with Ironwood’s insecurities, while Ironwood’s ultimatum gives Cinder the perfect chance to ignore hers.
The result is that Ironwood goes back to control, while Cinder goes back to manipulation. Both do so because they are unable to trust.
Interestingly, they take after their respective mentors in this.
Ironwood takes after Ozpin:
Ironwood: Did you really think you were the only one who got to work on a new plan after Beacon? WIth Ozpin gone, I needed my own team of people I could trust.
Oscar: General? Earlier, you asked for my advice.
Ironwood: I wanted Ozpin's advice.
Oscar: And his advice probably would've been to keep your secrets.
Cinder takes after Salem:
Salem: When I chose you as my vessel for the Maidens, I put my trust in you. So, I trust that you wouldn’t possibly return to me empty-handed.
Ironwood’s whole struggle in volume 7 is his search for a “new approach”. He wants to be like Ozpin, but better. This is why he founds his own group, but wants to trust the world with the truth about Salem. However, he confuses trust with control.
Cinder instead wants to become just like Salem and suffers when she sees she is not. This is why she collects assets, just like her master. This is also why she does not trust anyone, but manipulates others.
That said, what is the difference between Ironwood’s control and Cinder’s manipulation? It has once again to do with feelings.
Ironwood’s attempt to manipulate others is about suppressing feelings. He uses Atlas’s military hierarchy and social structures to ask for his subordinates’ blind loyalty.
Cinder’s method to control people lies instead in making use of others’ feelings. She uses both wishes and fears to her advantage.
In short, control and manipulation are nothing, but the same inability to trust declined in opposite ways. They are both “enemies of trust”.
This is why both Ironwood and Cinder find a strong enemy and a foil in the character, who embodies friendship in these volumes:
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Deep down, Ironwood and Cinder not trusting others is because they fear betrayal:
Cinder: I won’t have to run now.
Rhodes: That’s all you’ll ever do.
Ironwood: I've chased a lot of shadows over the years, always expecting betrayal. But never once did I think it would ever come from you.
However, Penny too is betrayed and mistreated by others:
Penny: I do not like it when friends fight.
Ruby: I know. Yang and I may not agree on how best to save Mantle but-
Penny: No. I mean Winter. The general. They were our friends. But then the Ace Ops attacked you. And the general, he said people were going to die, because of me.
 However, she does not give up on the ideal of a genuine bond:
Attached but not By strings
Still, if Penny is a positive foil to both Ironwood and Cinder, why does she die?
RISK
Weiss: Trust is a risk.  
Yang: Ruby, they’re not called sure things, they’re called risks.
These two lines taken together are why at the end of volume 8 Penny dies, our heroes fall and the manipulative Cinder wins.
It happens to show the main theme of the two Atlas volumes. Trust is not a “sure thing”. It is a risk and it does not always work. Still, it is necessary to trust as it is necessary to take risks:
Yang: You were being optimistic. Look, blind optimism isn’t great, but no optimism means we already lost. We need hope. We need to take risks.
Giving up on trust and risks means giving up on hope. It means to give in to fear.
Still, this does not mean your trust will always be paid back. And it does not mean that the risks you take will always work, even if you come up with a wonderful plan:
Cinder: I knew your plan would be bold, but I never could have predicted all of this...
Sometimes people will betray you:
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Sometimes your risk will end up in a fall:
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However, it is still worth to trust, even when you have no guarantee it will work:
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And sometimes It is even worth to risk the fall because it may lead to people being saved:
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This same idea is conveyed also through Penny’s final choice:
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Penny: Trust me.
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Winter: Thank you for trusting me with this.
Penny dies tragically, but she still manages to pass the Maiden’s power to a person she trusts.
This is especially meaningful because the Winter Maiden power, just like Penny herself, has been subjected to both control and manipulation.
Ironwood does all he can to make sure the power ends up to Winter. At the same time, he is the one most responsible for Penny feeling as nothing, but a robot:
Ironwood: As the official report stated, that footage was doctored. Penny is completely under my control.
Cinder tries to steal the power three times. She also manipulates Penny’s feelings towards her friends:
Cinder: I was hoping your friends would be here. But it looks like they left you to do all the work. You’re just a tool to be used!
In the end, Ironwood treating Penny as a machine (control) and Cinder using Penny’s love for her friends against her (manipulation) are among the psychological factors that lead Penny to be mortally wounded by Cinder.
Still, while dying Penny negates both Ironwood and Cinder and frees the power and herself from both control and manipulation.
The fact she chooses Winter works well to illustrate this.
Winter is the person Ironwood wants as the next Maiden. However, Winter becomes a Maiden not because of Ironwood’s control, but because of Penny’s trust:
Ironwood: So… the destiny I chose for you has arrived.
Winter: You chose nothing. This...was a gift.
Winter is a Schnee, so she represents both what Cinder hates and what she herself wants to be:
Cinder to Winter: You Atlas elites are all the same! You think hoarding power means you’ll have it forever, but it just makes the rest of us hungrier.
Winter is a symbol of Atlas and so she is a reminder to Cinder that Atlas is not really destroyed:
Robyn: What do you think a kingdom is? The people, or just the chunk of land they live on?
Just like Cinder’s past isn’t.
WORTHY
Cinder wants to be worthy. Ironwood wants to be a hero.
Deep down, Ironwood and Cinder want the same thing. They want to be above others. They want to be more than humans.
However, they go at it in opposite ways:
Ironwood: I have sacrificed everything!
Cinder: I want it all...
Ironwood thinks that victory lies in sacrificing everything, while Cinder sees it as taking it all.
These opposite viewpoints mirror their respective social stances.
Ironwood can say he wants to sacrifice everything because he has everything.
Cinder thinks happiness lies in everything because she has nothing:
Cinder: You’re right. Without you I am nothing. But because of you, I am everything.
In the end, Ironwood and Cinder are each other’s true enemies, but they fail to see it and lash out against the wrong people:
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Ironwood and Cinder’s respective fight against Winter and Weiss is exactly this.
Ironwood fights a Maiden he sees as an enemy of Atlas, while another Maiden is attacking the people he swore to protect.
Cinder lashes out at Weiss because of her origins, while Weiss has decided to leave her status and money behind to make the right thing.
Still, Ironwood and Cinder are too hypocritical to see the truth. This is why they attack people, who could have helped them, if they were given the chance.
This is also why they receive a warning:
Winter: No, you have sacrificed everyone else!
Winter: You… are going to pay… for everything you’ve done!
Ironwood claims he is ready to sacrifice everything. However, he never sacrifices himself:
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In the end, he is unable to sacrifice his life to fight Salem.
Let’s highlight he has nothing to lose by this point. He is falling with Atlas anyway. In his final moments, he is given the chance to prove true to his words:
I would die Without regret, I’d offer up my life With zero reservations I would fly Into the sun If that would keep our dream alive
Instead, he gives up. He has been shooting his allies until the very end, but freezes in front of his enemy.
Cinder thinks she is closer to her final victory, but in the end she has accomplished nothing of what she truly wants.
She wants to kill RWBY, but they are alive. She wants the Maiden powers, but she fails.
At the same time, Cinder is still far away from what she truly needs:
Cinder: You have everything you need?
Watts: Oh, believe me, this is everything I've ever wanted.
She is given a perfect mirror of herself in Watts. Still, instead of seeing it, Cinder uses his flaw, which is her same flaw, to kill him. Watts’ wants lead to his death and the same thing might happen to Cinder if she does not stop herself in time.
Finally, there is this:
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Salem: This game is not yours to win, Cinder, it’s mine. Just because you’re more valuable to me than a pawn, does not make you a player. Everything is already in motion. All you need concern yourself with is your ability to act when I tell you to.
Ironwood and Cinder share a chess motif.
Ironwood thinks of himself as a player and specifically as Salem’s opponent.
Cinder is instead told she is no player.
However, in the end, Ironwood becomes a mere pawn to the point that all Watts has to do is to open his cell to be sure he is going to unwillingly aid in Cinder’s plan.
What is more, he is so fixated on Salem that he fails to aknowledge the people below him. This is why his true opponent is a slave that Atlas exploited.
Cinder frames herself as a player instead. She is the one who truly makes the first move against Ironwood and ultimately she is the one who defeats both him and our protagonists. Finally, she is the one who calls checkmate.
Still, is she really playing her own game?
In the end, the one who gets what she wants is not Cinder, but Salem:
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And all she has to do to obtain it is one small move:
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Salem: And I’ve realized, it’s all my fault. You’ve fought your whole life unwaveringly for what you want and here I am holding you back instead of lifting you up.
While Cinder is once again letting her talent be exploited by those above her. She is choosing to be Salem’s Queen instead than a player of her own life.
She is the Black Queen defeating the White King, but nothing more.
253 notes · View notes
sergeantsporks · 3 years
Text
Another Shot at Life
Rating: General Audiences, Gen
TW: Child abuse, emotional manipulation
Ao3
Hunter accidentally makes his way into the human realm and can't get back home. But he's discovering that might not be such a bad thing.
Ch 7/7: Home
Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6
Vee trudged up towards the old abandoned house. She’d started checking it every single day since Hunter had been taken, hoping he’d be there.
He never was.
She pushed open the door, and stopped, dead in her tracks. “L-Luz? Red?!”
Red was shrieking like its little heart was being torn in two, fluttering around where the portal had always appeared.
Vee rushed forward, panic building in her chest. “Hey—are you okay?!”
Luz was turning a key over and over in her hands, poking at it. “I need to go back,” she said dazedly, “I need to rescue him.”
“How long have you been here?!”
“I—I don’t know. A couple of hours? I can’t… get the key to work. But I have to go back, I left Hunter behind, and Belos has him, and—” She struggled to her feet, then immediately fell.
Vee caught her, slinging one of her arms over her shoulder. “You need to go back home. You look awful.”
“But Hunter—”
Vee took the key from her. “I’ll go back for him,” she promised, and a sort of steely calm settled over her. Yes. She would figure this out, she would rescue Hunter.
“Mom will never let you—”
Vee bit her lip. Of all the things to take a leaf out of Hunter’s book for. “We won’t tell her.” She tucked the key into her hoodie pocket, half-carrying, half-dragging Luz back home. “Camila!” she called, “Come quick!”
Camila poked her head out of the kitchen, then shrieked, rushing forward and taking Luz from Vee. “Mi carina! Luz, baby, what happened?!”
“Mama,” Luz half-sobbed, “Mama, I left Hunter—he helped me get away from Belos, he—”
Vee slipped out, wandering back to the old house. Red was sitting on the floor, staring at the spot where the portal had been. Vee gently scooped up the bird. “We’ll get him back. I promise.”
Red chirped sadly, hopping back down out of her hands to sit on the ground again.
Vee tugged the training wand Hunter had given her out of her pocket. It glowed blue, and she sucked the magic out of it. She hadn’t needed it to hide from Belos. But she could use it to save Hunter.
Now there was just one more person she needed.
Xxx
Vee strode into the museum. “Hey!”
Jacob jumped. “What are you doing here?” He glanced behind her. “Your—your friend isn’t here, is he?”
Vee felt tears prick at her eyes, but she blinked them back. “He’s… not here right now. I need your help.”
“My help? Why would you need my help?”
Because you’re stupid, and loud, and prideful and the perfect distraction.
“Because you’re right. Because witches are planning an invasion of your world, and I’m a rebel against them, but I need someone to help me take down their leader, and you’re perfect.”
Jacob stared at her, his mouth hanging slightly open. “You’re… you’re a rebel?”
“Yes. Against the beings that want to conquer your planet.” Vee swung the key back and forth on its string. “I can get you inside the witch emperor’s castle. All you have to do is kill him. Protect your planet.”
Jacob made a grab for the key, and she swung it up, catching it and holding it tightly. “Uh-uh. I control the portal.”
“Why?”
“Because you need someone on this side to keep it open,” Vee lied, “Now, are you going to be a hero and defend your home, or do I have to find someone else?”
Jacob shook his head. “I’m coming! I’m coming.”
“Good. Meet me at the abandoned house you were watching, and I’ll open the portal. The fate of your world rests on your shoulders, Jacob.”
Vee strode purposefully out of the museum, making sure she was out of Jacob’s range of hearing before sighing. “Now I just have to figure out how to open the portal.”
She jogged back to the old house, where Red was still waiting, and held up the key. “Hey. Any chance you know how to use this?”
Red fluttered up and pecked at the eye.
“Hey! Don’t break it!” Vee examined the key. “Now how do I…” she pressed gently on the eye of the key, but nothing happened.
Vee stepped to the place where the door had been.
And was met with resistance.
“Huh?”
Vee clicked the key, and the resistance disappeared. She clicked it again. There was that strange wall again.
Or maybe not a wall. Maybe a door.
Vee put her hands on the solid area, feeling for a knob. “Come on,” she muttered, “You have to be around here somewhere!”
Red fluttered up onto her shoulder, chirping. Its eyes glowed, and suddenly, there it was.
The door.
It looked like the sketches Hunter had left behind, but instead of huge eye on the top, there was a keyhole.
Vee gasped. “Oh! You need a palisman to get in! So no one but a witch could get in from this side! That’s clever!”
She heard clanking, and turned around to see Jacob, in all of his armor. Wow, he really looked ridiculous.
“Where’s the portal?” he demanded.
Vee reached up and inserted the key into the lock, twisting it with a quiet click. A doorframe filled with a golden curtain of light appeared, the key at the top of the doorframe. She gestured to it. “The emperor wears a golden mask with deer horns. You’ll know him when you see him.”
Jacob gulped, then plunged through. Vee briefly considered that she should feel guilty about sending him in to face Belos with absolutely no idea what he was up against.
Eh.
Red tried to dive into the portal after Jacob, but Vee held a hand up, blocking the bird. “I know you want to see Hunter, but I need you to stay here and watch the portal, okay? Make sure no one comes for the key. I’ll bring him back. I promise.”
Red ruffled its feathers unhappily, but perched atop the doorframe.
Vee pulled on the magic she’d absorbed from the wand, shifting to match the look of a coven guard. Then she crept through. She could hear Jacob yelling and clanging his way down the hallway, and the sounds of other coven guards chasing after. Perfect.
Vee slipped unnoticed through the hallways, her nerves spiking. Everything about this place was just one bad memory after another. She spotted a singular guard outside of a door, and sidled up to him.
“Um—” she squeaked, “hello? I, uh. I’m a bit lost, I just transferred here. I’m… I’m supposed to go on guard duty for… the golden guard?”
The guard heaved a sigh. “Finally. I thought I would never go off-duty. It’s just so boring, you know? It’s not like he can escape.”
“Oh. Yes. T-totally.”
“Right. See ya, new guy!”
The guard waved and strode off. Vee shuddered. He seemed so… normal. Like his job wasn’t locking up and hurting innocent teens.
She waited for him to disappear down the hallway, then turned the knob of the door, pushing it open. The room was well lit, surprisingly.
Vee almost wished it weren’t.
Hunter was buried all the way up to the nose in a mountain of some kind of… slime that shifted and moved. His eyes were blank—no pupils, no irises, just eerily glowing white.
“Hunter?” she whispered.
He didn’t respond.
Vee crept forward, poking the slime with one finger.
It glowed blue, and Vee gasped. The whole thing was magic. “Hang on, Hunter, I’ll get you out of here.”
Vee wrinkled her nose and put her hands on the slime. It glowed, and she inhaled, sucking up the magic. She almost immediately gagged. There was something wrong with this magic. It tasted rotten.
But the mountain had gotten just a little bit smaller, so she braced herself, and started eating the magic again, suppressing her gag reflex.
The mountain shrank smaller and smaller, and the slime receded from Hunter’s face. He fell forward, and Vee lunged to catch him, her stomach writhing like she’d just eaten live snakes. “Hunter?”
The eerie glow faded from his eyes, replaced with his usual magenta eyes.
“Hunter!”
He just stared blankly up at her, shivering violently. Vee hefted him in her arms, glancing both ways out into the hallway before starting down the hallway. Maybe it was the huge size of the coven guard she’d shifted into, but he seemed smaller than he ever had back home.
And then there were his eyes. They were so… bleak. Hopeless. It was like he couldn’t even see her.
Vee made her way back to the room with the door, occasionally ducking into other rooms or behind statues to hide Hunter.
She heard a clank, clank, clank behind her, and Jacob came tearing back, screaming. Wow, he could run fast, even in all of that armor.
The meaning of why he would be running like that hit her, and she sprinted after him, bolting through the doors to the room.
Only for several guards to be standing in front of her way out. Jacob was nowhere in sight—they must have let him through the portal. Vee skidded to a stop. “Oh. Hey. Uhhhhhhhh…”
“We have a traitor!”
“That’s no traitor,” Belos’ voice hissed behind her, “That’s a dangerous creature, masquerading as one of our own.”
Vee’s veins turned to ice, and every bad memory from her time locked in the dungeon flashed through her mind at lightning speed.
She didn’t see him move, but suddenly Belos was right in her face. “I’ll be taking Hunter back, now. You don’t know what he needs.”
Xxx
“Mom—I’m okay. Really. It was just a fall off of a wall, and a little bit of light torture, and a blow to the head, and a fall from the sky—I’m fine, really.”
Camila finished applying band-aids to all of Luz’s scratches, her chest tight. “A blow to the head? I’m going to call a doctor.”
“I’m okay, Mom! Really! Hunter gave me these painkiller things, and they really worked, but I think they’ve worn off now, and I know I promised I’d stay here, I know, but we have to go back for him!”
Camila sat down next to her daughter. “Okay.”
Luz stopped, mid-rant. “Wh-what?”
“Okay. I’m going to get Hunter. You stay here and rest. How do I get there?”
“I…” Luz’s eyes teared up. “I don’t know! I couldn’t get the portal open from this side, and Mom, it would be too dangerous for you to go!”
“If it’s too dangerous for me, do you think I’d send my little girl in? I failed Hunter—I let Belos take him. So I’m going to get him back.” If we can get the portal working, if he’s even still alive. Camila shook her head, trying to chase away the niggling doubts in her head. No. She was going to rescue Hunter. No matter how far she had to go.
“He was so miserable, Mom,” Luz whispered, “But he’d just… given up.”
Camila’s heart seemed to tear itself in two. He’d gone back to protect them—and had given up on seeing them again. Camila glanced around the room. “Where’d Vee go?”
Luz clammed up.
“Luz? Do you know where she went?”
“I’m… not supposed to tell you?”
A bolt of panic shot through Camila, and she jumped to her feet. “She opened the portal, didn’t she?!”
“I don’t know—I know she was going to try.”
Camila raced for her purse, throwing a few things in. “I’m going to find her, and maybe Hunter if she’s managed to open the portal. Luz, you stay here. You’re not in any state for a rescue mission, kay? Just trust me to bring him back.”
Luz nodded. “I trust you.”
Camila ran out the door, racing up the path towards the old house.
Please be okay.
Xxx
Vee clutched Hunter tightly, his body quivering so hard she thought she might drop him. A surge of anger rushed through her. “What he needs?! He doesn’t need this!”
Belos shrugged. “He got to be too much of a hassle to keep awake. It was simpler for everyone if he just went to sleep until I needed him. Less painful for him as well—but apparently, you just want him to suffer needlessly. Now, little basilisk, give him to me and I might consider letting you go.”
Vee backed up. “No!”
“HEY!”
Vee jumped as she heard Camila’s voice. She whirled around to see her adoptive mother standing over two unconscious coven guards, holding Luz’s baseball bat. “Camila!”
Camila glared at Belos. “Get. Away. From my. Kids.”
Belos disappeared, reappearing next to Camila and plucking the baseball bat out of her hands. “Oh? How interesting. Are you going to make good on that threat to end me, little human?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Camila whipped out a can of hairspray and a lighter. “Adios, Belos.” She held the lighter up to the hairspray, and clicked them at the same time. A jet of flame shot out, lighting Belos’ robes on fire. The emperor stumbled back with a shriek, and Camila pushed past him, grabbing Vee’s arm. “Let’s go!”
Vee shot through the portal, Camila not far behind. Vee reached up and twisted the key back out of the portal. The curtain of light closed on Belos’ howl of rage.
Camila whistled. “I cannot believe I just did that!”
“That was—it was scary, but it was amazing, and…” Vee glanced down at Hunter, and the euphoria died away. He was still shaking, still blank-eyed. Red fluttered down to his shoulder, nudging his face and warbling softly. Hunter didn’t respond.
Camila put a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s get him home,” she said softly.
Vee trudged back up the path to her own home, struggling to squeeze through the door. She gently sat Hunter on the couch, shifting back to her usual form. Eating that cursed prison might have been disgusting, but it had given her a huge backup magic reserve—she’d be good on magic for a while yet.
“You’re back!” Luz limped down the stairs, freezing when she saw Hunter. “Oh—oh, no. Hunter?”
He didn’t respond, just kept staring ahead with those dull eyes. Camila wrapped a blanket around his shivering shoulders, taking his hand in hers and giving it a squeeze. “Oh, Hunter. What happened to you?”
“He—he looks kind of like Matholomew did when he got out of detention,” Luz said softly, “Vee, what—”
Vee twisted her hands. “I—there was this cursed mud, and it made his eyes go all creepy—maybe I shouldn’t have taken him out? Maybe it was supposed to run its course and I made it worse by taking him out early?”
Camila squeezed her shoulder. “You did what you thought was best,” she said softly, “We have him back, and that’s—that’s what matters. We can fix this. He’ll wake up.”
Vee blinked back tears. “But—what if he doesn’t?”
What if I was too late?
Xxx
“H-hey, I’m gonna… gonna put on some Stephen Universe? Hunter? Remember, you liked that?” Vee rubbed her arms. Rain had been gently pattering on the windowpane, but it was starting to pick up. “You did. We watched it together, and I liked Amethyst, and you couldn’t pick your favorite character, remember?”
Hunter still just stared forward, wrapped up in his blanket like a burrito, and Vee sat next to him with a sigh. Red hadn’t moved from his shoulder since they’d gotten him back two days ago—and Hunter himself hadn’t budged, either—he didn’t eat anything, he didn’t sleep, as far as Vee could tell, he just sat there, staring into space. Red chirped softly, nuzzling Hunter’s face, and then hopped over to Vee, giving her big, worried eyes.
Vee cupped the palisman in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “I don’t know how to get him back. I don’t know if he’s just in shock, or if this is something that the curse does, or…”
The rain was picking up, wind howling against the window. Vee slid off the couch, setting Red on the floor and digging out birdseed for the palisman. She sat back down on the floor next to the cardinal. “You’ve got to eat something, right?”
Red warbled sadly, and fluttered back up to Hunter.
“I know. I miss him, too.”
Lightning flashed, followed by a crack of thunder, and Vee yelped, putting her hands over her ears.
She heard a rustle and a little whump, and then something warm settled over her. Hunter’s chin rested on her head, his arms flopped over her shoulders so that they were sharing the blanket. Red chirped happily, and Vee froze, her heart thumping hopefully in her chest.
“Hunter? Camila! Camila, Luz, I think he’s waking up!”
Another peal of thunder crashed, and Hunter hugged her just a little tighter. Camila came thumping down, Luz not far behind. Vee didn’t move, holding her breath, worried that if she moved and disturbed him, he’d go back to the way he’d been, barely daring to hope...
xxx
Camila rushed into the living room, where Hunter was flopped over Vee, wrapping her in his blanket. He was still blank-eyed, but his brow was furrowed, like he was trying to remember something. Camila gently cupped his face in her hands.
“Hunter?” She asked softly, “Mijo?”
He blinked, hard, like he’d just woken up. “C-Camila?” His eyes filled with tears, and he fell back, letting go of Vee. The basilisk tackled him in a hug.
“Hunter!”
Camila wrapped her arms around both of them, squeezing them both tight. “Oh!”
His shoulders started to shake. “It was s-so dark,” he whispered.
Camila squeezed just a little harder. “I’ve got you,” she promised. She let the two of them go, and Vee wriggled under the blanket, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with him as the thunder cracked. Luz sat down next to Camila.
“Hey,” she said softly to Hunter, “Thanks.”
He sat bolt upright, making Vee yelp. “The key! Belos!”
Vee held up the portal key. “Oh, you mean this? Don’t worry, Belos can’t get to us.”
“Vee managed to open the portal,” Luz supplied, “She went in after you!”
“And then Camila came for both of us,” Vee finished, “She lit Belos on fire, it was awesome!”
Hunter looked up at Camila, his lip quivering. “You… you fought for me?”
“Of course I did. I said I would, didn’t I?”
Tears rolled down his face, and Camila wrapped him up in a hug. “Hey. Heeey. You’re okay now.”
“I kept—I kept making him mad—and it—and I—”
Camila rocked him back and forth. “Okay. Ooookay. I’ve got you.”
“I couldn’t get out—it was all dark, and blank, and I just kept sinking, and I couldn’t do anything, and I was drowning, and—” Hunter buried his face in her shoulder.
Camila cradled his head in her hand. She could feel a lump on the back of his head, like he’d hit it, and she hadn’t failed to notice the bruises that hadn’t been there when he’d left. A tide of anger swept over her, and she started regretting leaving the Boiling Isles quite so soon. “You’re safe now, Hunter. I promise. Belos can’t hurt you anymore. And if he even thinks about it… well, I have no qualms lighting him on fire again.”
Hunter slumped against her, and she scooped him up, Red fluttering around the two of them. “Okay. You need some sleep.”
“He can take my bed,” Vee offered, “I’m too wired to go to sleep, anyway.”
Camila gave her a grateful nod and carried Hunter up the stairs. He was already asleep by the time they got to Luz’s room, his breath coming in soft little puffs. She nestled him in the bed, pulling the covers over him.
“Good night, Hunter.”
Xxx
Hunter was woken up by the sun.
The sun.
How had he slept this long?!
He bolted upright, nearly scraping his head on the ceiling. Wait. What?
Everything that had happened, came back to him in a rush, and he flopped backwards, running his hands through his hair. “Oh.”
Lying here, in the Noceda house, he could almost imagine that going back to Belos had been nothing but a bad dream.
But it hadn’t been. He had some very real bruises to prove it.
He shuddered, remembering the cold, acidic feel of Belos’ curse.
But then Red soared right into him, singing brightly, and he could almost forget it had ever happened.
Almost.
Hunter’s hand closed around the pin on his cloak. He ripped it off, tossing the cape to the floor, followed by his armor. He didn’t have to wear it anymore. Ever. Belos had no way to get back to him.
Belos had no way to get back to him.
The enormity of the statement caught up to him, and he ran his hand through his hair again. “He can’t come back for me,” he whispered, “I—I don’t ever have to see him again!”
Red chirped in agreement, and a bewildered laugh escaped Hunter’s mouth.
No more running errands for Belos.
No more worrying about what would happen to Red.
No more fear that an attack would hit, and he’d get hurt.
Just Camila and Vee and Luz.
Hunter shuffled down the stairs into the kitchen. “Good morning!”
“You’re cheerful.” Vee grinned. “Afternoon, actually.”
“Really?”
Luz nodded. “Mom said we should let you sleep. Speaking of my mom, she said something about how she shouldn’t have forced me to promise not to go back to the Isles—she doesn’t want me to keep trying to use that key, because it’s too dangerous to get into the keep, but she hasn’t outright said I can’t go back if I can find another way.” Luz glanced around. “I miiiiight ask to borrow Red at some point. If that’s okay with the two of you. I need to let Eda know I’m okay.”
“Luz, are you plotting something behind my back?” Camila came bumping down the stairs, holding a brightly wrapped parcel. “Oh, hey! You’re up!” She thrust the parcel at him. “That’s for you! I actually got it before… but that doesn’t matter, you’re here, I have it, everything’s great.”
Hunter gingerly took the package. “What… is it?”
“It’s a present,” Vee explained wisely, “It’s a surprise. You open it up.”
“Did it… come like this?”
“Nope, Camila wrapped it.”
Hunter squinted at the package. “But… now I’m just supposed to open it?”
Vee nodded. “Yep.”
“Then what was the point of wrapping it up?”
Luz nudged his shoulder. “It’s fun!” Her face dropped. “Oh my gosh, you’ve never gotten a present before, this is so sad. Okay. Just trust us, it’s fun.”
Hunter stuck his tongue out at her, and pulled gently at the paper, trying to unstick the tape.
“Rip it!” Luz demanded, “Tear it open!”
Hunter glanced back at Camila. “But you worked so hard to—”
She laughed. “You’re supposed to rip it, mijo. Go ahead.”
Hunter tore at the paper. It was… oddly exciting.
The wrapping had contained a set of clothing, jeans that actually looked his size, a t-shirt, and a hoodie that looked just a little too big—therefore, exactly the right size.
Hunter turned the fabric over in his hands, tears bubbling to his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Vee pushed him towards the stairs. “Go see if it fits!”
Hunter scooted up the stairs, closing the door behind him and switching clothes. The rest of his uniform joined the armor and cloak in a pile, and he tugged the hood of his new sweater up, retracting his hands into the sleeves. It was soft, and comfy, and he felt like he could just melt into a puddle right here.
He shuffled back downstairs, and Camila clapped her hands. “Ooo, good, it fits! Look at you!” She grabbed her keys. “Okay, Hunter, Luz, in the car, both of you are coming with me to the doctor’s office, I want both of you checked out for concussions.”
“Mooooooom,” Luz groaned, “I’m fiiiiiiine!”
Hunter let Camila shoo him into the car, stepping out into the bright sunlight (hadn’t it been raining last night?). Warmth spread all through him, banishing the last of the lingering coldness Belos had left behind.
Camila looked back at him as she turned the car on. “Everything good?”
Hunter took in a deep breath, burying his face in his new hoodie. He was back home—this time to stay. “Everything is perfect.”
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jmoriarty-221b · 3 years
Text
Ok so this idea was inspired by AUs where Tim Drake is a member of the Addams family and thus this cute idea was born
Ok so, Tim’s parents still travel a lot but instead of leaving him alone in a big empty manor they leave him with his aunt and uncle Morticia and Gomez Addams
And Tim is a weird little kid who grows up without fear of the dark figures at night because the boogeyman is actually a pretty nice fellow who was very touched when Tiny Tim gave them a drawing of themselves, the monster in the closet actually gives great fashion advice as well as providing the perfect clothes for playing dress up, and the monsters under his bed are great storytellers and the shadow man gives Tim great advice on how to hide and use shadows to his advantage, etc.
The point is that Timmy grows up under the care of the Addams when his parents have to leave on long business trips or excavation sites and as such, is exposed to Gomez’s great appreciation of swordsmanship and fencing, and the haunted suits of armors are always great at comparing which kind of swords are the best in which kind of combat as well as the the importance of craftsmanship when in relation to having a reliable sword
And then one day Timmy watches the movie ‘The Legend of Zorro’ and becomes absolutely obsessed with learning how to use a sword and fight with it in the way only little kids can become obsessed with something they find completely cool, and Gomez is so excited to be teaching Tim everything he knows and they work together to craft Timmy his very own mini rapier for learning how to fence (swords are heavier so Tim learns those from Gomez when he’s older and can parry more weight)
And Tim becomes very Focused and Serious on learning how to fence and he’s very excited when he manages to finally best his uncle in a fencing duel (not as excited as Gomez tho, “MY CHILD SHALL BECOME THE BEST SWORDSMAN YET MY LOVE, DID YOU SEE HIS TECHNIQUE, HAD I BEEN SLOWER HE WOULD’VE RIPPED OPEN MY THROAT IN ONE SWIPE, I’M SO PROUD” “Our child dear”)
And then the movie ‘Count of Monte Cristo’ comes out and both Tim and Gomez are super fans (as a whole the family’s favorite movies are this one as well as the Legend of Zorro because 1. Revenge is achieved to the improvement of the main character’s well being and 2. The Aesthetic) and Tim just focuses on getting the hang of swords now with Gomez being more than happy to help his darling nephew
So years pass and Tim’s parents have finished one of their most taxing excavation digs so they return to Gotham and Tim has to return too (for the purposes of this AU Janet and Jack actually do give a fuck about their son so they would call him every other night when they’re away and if they can’t then at the very least they would call Tim once a week; they also call Morticia and Gomez at least once a week to check on how Tim is doing and they were also very happy to know that Tim has taken a liking to swords so they try to bring new types of weapons or literature related to weapons from the culture of their latest excavation so Tim can learn how different types of swords are wielded all around the world)
But anyway, Tim is going back to Gotham so he and Gomez work on creating a new sword for him with the family motto carved on the blade “Sic Gorgiamus Allos Subjectatos Nunc” which translates to “We Gladly Feast on Those Who Would Subdue Us” which is metal as fuck so yeah, and this sword is super durable and strong, inspired by a katana’s durability and a rapier’s gracefulness with a blade that is such a dark purple that it looks black like obsidian and the inscription of the family motto is carved in letters that are ruby red with a black hilt where an image of a drake is engraved in the same ruby red as the family motto (basically it is a Very Deadly Sword that is also Very Pretty with a dark aesthetic)
So Tim gets back to Gotham and one day he’s watching the news and sees The Batman saving the day and what not and sees Robin do a quadruple back flip and figures out their identities and decides that he wants to meet them at some point while on his nightly photography sessions of Gotham architecture; and if he manages to snap a couple of shots of Gotham’s heroes sometimes then that’s a bonus but Tim is mostly focused on capturing the essence of Gotham city (at this point in time when Tim moves back to Gotham he physically looks like 10-12 year old; he did meet Dick at the circus when he looked like he was 4 years old but for the purposes of the timeline Tim, as an Addams, can choose to remain at any age he desires for as long as he wants so while he did appear to be 4 years old at the circus, he had been alive for a couple of years more at this point, this also explains how he can master swords and fencing while physically looking like a 10 year old because he has been practicing for years as well as why he remembers Dick from that night at the circus)
So the timeline continues with Tim figuring out that the Bats are actually his neighbors but instead of staying away from the Waynes, he decides to go ask his parents if he can stay with the neighbors whenever they have to stay later than usual at the company or have to take a short business travel and they talk with Bruce about it and he agrees to take care of Tim, so now Tim has an in to befriend the Waynes and helps smooth out the edges of Dick and Bruce’s relationship so Bruce doesn’t fire Dick from Robin, but rather they talk about their feelings for once and Dick decides he wants to create his own superhero identity and Bruce supports his decision (Tim may or may not have had to talk about how his family happened to be very open about their feelings and worry for one another and how much closer they are due to talking to each other and resolving conflict; Alfred may or may not have been 100% behind Tim every time he made such a conversation) also, Tim is basically a trial run for Dick on becoming a big brother for when Jason arrives
One time Tim asks Dick if he knows how to fence which Dick can’t really answer because technically he knows how to fight with a sword but that’s for vigilante purposes which his civilian self isn’t supposed to know so Dick says that he doesn’t and asks Tim why he wanted to know, Tim proceeds to talk about how his favorite masked hero uses a sword to fight injustice and he has a black cape and a black horse and Bruce comes into the living room they’re in in the middle of Tim’s rambling about his favorite hero using a sword and is Concerned for a hot minute until Tim finishes the rant by saying “. . . and that’s why I like his movie so much, have you seen the Legend of Zorro?” (Cue relief for both Dick and Bruce because for all that they scrambled to put a name to the hero Tim was describing they couldn’t come up with one and were considering the possibility of a new player in the vigilante scene) so then Tim asks Mr. Bruce if he knows how to fence and Bruce says yes and asks if Tim would like to learn cue the “Oh, my uncle taught me how to fence a few years ago and when I lived with them we had a duel at least once a week, it was very fun so I was just wondering if you knew so we could practice if you want to Mr. Bruce”
Dick is 100% on board with this because the idea of Tiny Tim and 6’1” Bruce fencing is hilarious in his mind, Alfred is there to supervise and both Tim and Bruce are provided with the appropriate fencing equipment and protection; Bruce starts off slow and is surprised when Tim manages to beat him before starting to enjoy fencing with someone who can surprisingly keep up with him (Dick is taking pictures because the height difference is just too cute to be ignored and Tiny Tim is adorable in his own mini fencing equipment)
Whenever his parents do have to leave for extended periods of time (any company trip that takes more than 3-5 days qualifies as this) Tim stays with his aunt and uncle, thus starting a fun tradition of having spontaneous fencing duels with his uncle Gomez, basically if one of them is in the library then the other will shout ‘En-garde’ while throwing a sabre towards the other person and engaging in a quick duel; basically, if Tim is reading about the latest poisonous plants produced by Poison Ivy and annotating his research in order to get an idea of what would be a nice gift for his aunt Morticia and Gomez walks into the library then Gomez will grab two of the sabres they have on the wall for this exact purpose while shouting ‘en-garde’ before throwing a sabre at Tim and engaging in a duel, same goes for Tim, it’s almost instinct to the point that Tim has to hold himself back from doing exactly this whenever he sees Bruce in the library of Wayne Manor
Later on, when Jason is already adopted into the Wayne family, Tim still comes over and makes it his sacred mission to teach Jason the art of swords so he has another fencing buddy because “Mr. Bruce isn’t always here and I have decided that we will be friends and you’re pretty cool but knowing how to fight with a sword just ups your coolness level ya know?” So now Jason has smol Tim teaching him how to fence and it’s pretty fun to be able to do a taxing physical activity outside of being Robin with a friend, when Jason gets the hang of fencing Tim decides that he must now advance to the next level: sword fighting (Alfred is always there to supervise and give tips and pointers because he also knows how to fence but chooses to stay in the sidelines and let the young masters have their fun)
The problem with this is that, while the Waynes do have sabres for fencing, they don’t have swords, at least not in their civilian selves, so Tim decides to bring his own swords to teach Jason how to sword fight, Alfred is the first to see Tim’s very own special sword and is both impressed at the craftsmanship and concerned as to why a child has a sword, Jason thinks Tim’s sword is the coolest he has ever seen and Tim is happy to talk about how he made it himself with his uncle’s help when he finally learned all about sword fighting and promises Jason that they can make him his own cool sword when he learns how to sword fight too, Dick also thinks that the sword is a little concerning for a kid to have but he also wants his own cool sword and so now he insists Bruce has to teach him how to sword fight because Tim said he’s not allowed to have his own sword until he learns how to sword fight, Bruce is baffled as to why Tim has a sword, impressed at Tim’s skills in craftsmanship, and a little Concerned as to why Tim’s sword has that Latin inscription on the blade (no Tim, knowing that “we feast in those who would subdue us” is your family motto doesn’t calm me down yet it explains a lot about your mother)
By the time Damian comes along to the family he is very interested in where Jason and Dick got their Very Cool swords from, his father also has one and he wants to have his own Very Cool Sword too, thank you very much, and Tim visits them when Damian is still settling in and asks his customary question of if he knows how to use fence and gets an affirmative answer he asks Bruce if it would be ok for him and Damian to have a fencing duel, Bruce explains the rules to Damian and makes sure that Alfred, Dick, Jason and him are present in order to keep Damian from maiming/killing Tim
The duel does get a little out of hand as Damian gauges that Tim is more skilled than he previously thought so he stops holding back, Tim is positively grinning at this since he always has to hold back with the Waynes in a way that he doesn’t with Uncle Gomez because while an Addams won’t die from a stab to the heart, the same can’t be said for anyone else; the duel ends with Tim winning because he has more experience than Damian but he is positive beaming at how awesome Damian was and how these duels could become a weekly thing before they transition to swords and once Dames graduates from swords he can design his very own sword with Tim’s help as a sort of graduation present for learning how to sword fight and he’s sure that it won’t take too long for Damian to master swordsmanship because he’s basically a natural already and very skilled and this duel was so much fun Damian we have to do this again sometime oh my gosh I want to teach you everything I know it’s gonna be so much fun
And Damian, a poor baby, was mad at having lost to Tim but then Tim hits him with all this excitement and smiles and it’s the promise of getting his own Very Cool Sword is what gets him to agree to learn from Tim, it’s not that he feels warm at getting compliments from someone who also likes swords and knows what he’s doing in a fight, he definitely doesn’t find Tim cool at all, he’s just making use of a resource and he will learn everything Tim has to offer and become better than both Grayson and Todd, that’s all (that’s not all because it turns out that Damian is the younger brother Tim never had and he takes Dami under his wing and helps him adjust to a life outside the League of Assassins and how to find hobbies to enjoy; Damian won’t admit it but he is also Very Attached in to Timothy and feels like he won’t be judged for his past with him and he is also a fellow sword enthusiast so yeah)
Tim decides to do the same thing to Damian and initiating a quick fencing duel whenever he sees that Damian is in the gardens (no fencing inside the Manor on pain of Alfred’s eyebrow of disappointment); this helps Damian with the transition of learning to have fun and also learn to realize that not everybody is an enemy, it also helps keep up his training and burn some energy whenever he gets restless and helps him bond with Tim more
The idea was that Tim and Uncle Gomez would surprise each other with spontaneous fencing duels by shouting ‘en-garde’ at the other person whenever they find one another in the library, and now it turned into a fluff AU where Tim isn’t Robin but he’s still a family friend to the Waynes and an Addams and helps bring the family closer through his love of swords because yes
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