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everythingsinred · 3 years

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Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 15)

I'm posting this on time! Yay! I'll try to be timely tomorrow as well. Be patient with me if I can't ;-;

This will be the final part of the New Year's Arc. Natsume and his friends reunite and fight to save Aoi. Unfortunately, this fight will take a victim, and for once it's not Natsume.

Chapter Sixty-Six

We see Natsume again, still in a stand-off with Yakumo. Things change, however, when Nobara “wakes up” in a trance. All thoughts of getting Natsume out of the dungeon are gone from her mind now. She’s just another of Persona’s weapons, ready to fulfill her orders without any pesky hesitation or guilt.

And even later, when Mikan rejoins the group, we can see that Natsume is guarding his friends with his alice while Nobara’s rages on. He suggests he and Mikan work together to stop Nobara. He can use his alice to protect them from the ice, and she can use hers to stop Nobara’s alice completely. It’s interesting that Natsume has gotten to such a nonviolent point. He doesn’t even like Nobara, since she’s a teacher’s pet and he doesn’t trust her at all. But he knows she doesn’t mean any ill will and it’s not her fault that she’s attacking them now. He could think first of trying to attack her, but it would be much safer for her if Mikan simply nullified her instead.

He’s come such a long way, from attacking Hotaru and Iinchou so Mikan would spill her alice to now choosing a less violent approach to tackling a person who should be an ally. Now, he won’t be nonviolent in every regard, and there’s little reason he should be, but moments like this are noteworthy. Even more, he’s the one to suggest to Mikan that they work together. They could be a team, like she’d wanted in the Z Arc. They could work together to beat Nobara, and Natsume is willing to admit he won’t be able to do it alone. Ultimately, he’s asking for help, and Natsume never does that.

"Let's do it together," because he can finally ask for help.

But really, for Mikan, it doesn’t take much effort at all. In fact, Mikan uses her nullification to get Nobara entirely out of the trance in no time at all. Nobara runs away, ashamed, and Persona emerges from the woodwork, irritated that he has to do all the work himself.

Mikan breaks Nobara out of it without any help, all on her own. It's foreshadowing for all Mikan will do by herself in the rest of this fight. Natsume wants to work together, but he would never want her to take on everything by herself.

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Persona’s presence has only inspired anger. Natsume attempts to attack him, but he’s no match against Persona when he’s carrying Nobara’s alice stone as protection. Persona then informs Natsume that he’s lost the deal. After all, Rui and Hayate weren’t defeated by him, rather by the people who followed after him. Therefore, Natsume won’t be allowed to leave the dungeon or ever see his sister again.

Despite all his best efforts, he's failed. All these risks he's taken in the past two days have been for nothing, have even caused more of a mess. And if he's stuck in a dungeon, not only will he truly never be able to save Aoi, but he won't be able to see Mikan or Ruka either. It's not like Persona doesn't have the power to do this, either. This is a genuine threat, and if he and his friends lose here, then Natsume will be screwed for good.

Mikan stands up for Natsume, but Persona attacks her, only stopped by one of Ruka’s mice, who quickly demonstrates what happens when someone is caught by Persona’s alice, the touch of death or corrosion alice. Only Natsume (and we, the readers) knew what his alice was prior to this, and it creates a new atmosphere of danger. Getting hit could get you killed. Any misstep could be deadly.

Something interrupts the fight, though. Aoi is shuffling down the hall, gripping the walls since she is blind.

She calls out to Persona, to Mikan, to the very few people she’s had in her life for the past two and a half years.

This is the first time Natsume has seen her in just as long, and he calls out to her. He wasn't supposed to see her. This was a trap, after all, and he'd been told he'd never see her again. To be able to see her despite that is excellent luck (and because of Mikan's help). He nearly can't believe that it's really happening. What follows should be a dramatic and emotional reunion. Sadly, that's not the way it goes.

Natsume failed Aoi so much. Look what he's done. She's blind and has amnesia all because of him.

He approaches, but before he can reach her, she asks nervously who he is. She's blind, so there's no way she'd recognize his face, but she can't place his voice either. It's like a sucker-punch, not being remembered at all by one of the most important people in his life. It's not just that she's blind--that's shocking news too--or that she's been held captive in a dungeon for years. She also can't remember him at all. To make matters even worse, Aoi asks instead for Persona. Natsume is immediately shocked. He’s been putting himself on the line tirelessly for years, and she has forgotten him. It’s just another way in which he’s failed to protect her, since she doesn’t even remember her life anymore. And for his role in her life to be filled instead by Persona is even more cruel.

Persona has been abusing Natsume for years while manipulating Aoi into feeling pity for him. One moment, he seems to treat Aoi with kindness, and the next he goes to Natsume and threatens her safety if he doesn’t obey. It’s enough to make anyone’s blood boil, and Natsume is understandably hurt.

Mikan, who has met Aoi already, tries to remind her that Natsume is her real brother, but Persona is eager to get back to business, so he dispatches Yakumo to immobilize Ruka, Hotaru, and Mikan.

Persona goes right back to manipulating Aoi, lying to her and telling her that Natsume is responsible for her loss of sight and memories. But Natsume doesn’t care about being hated or loved, he only cares about protecting. He stands in front of Aoi and tells her to run. This time, no matter what, he will protect her. He won’t ever let her be hurt again.

Natsume has been blaming himself for what happened to Aoi for years. The job of protecting her was put on his shoulders since he was little. It’s always been his duty to keep her safe, so if she is unsafe, it means he failed. He’s just a little kid. He may have a powerful alice, but he is ultimately powerless. He’s up against government controlled entities and adults with influence. He couldn’t do any more to protect Aoi than he already did, but he’s been living with the guilt of not doing the impossible, because he was told that was his duty. Natsume feels like a failure whenever he can’t properly protect someone because he thinks that’s all he’s good for. He will take the hits for everyone else, will take responsibility for everyone, put himself in the face of danger and death to keep everyone but himself safe.

To be hated or loved or entirely forgotten has nothing to do with his life's mission anyway. Natsume gives unconditionally. He doesn't want anything in return, because it's not an exchange to begin with. The people around him are precious, and their happiness and safety is important. They should have long, pleasant lives. He's just a soldier in comparison. His life was always going to be short anyway, so why shouldn't be dedicate himself entirely to preserving the happiness of others? Protect, protect, protect. Sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice. It's all he knows. How other people feel about him doesn't change his purpose at all. Whether he does it openly or in secret, he exists only to protect.

Aoi was his biggest failure, in his mind. He won’t allow anything to stop him from protecting her this time, to make up for the time he failed. His determination and promise of protection triggers memories in Aoi. She knew her brother very well, knew all his nuances and quirks. She's the one who first explained to Ruka that he's endlessly selfless, always protecting. If Natsume is anything, he's a martyr. He will make a bold proclamation of protection, or stand in front of somebody to guard them, or take a hit in somebody's stead. She can't help but recognize it, his most outstanding character trait. Nobody in the world is quite like Natsume in this way. She says his name, shocking and distracting him. He hadn’t meant to have her recall him. He was just doing his job as her older brother to protect her. Again, Natsume is resigned to being hated, disliked, and even forgotten, so long as he can do his job of protecting people. Of course it surprises him when it’s exactly that loyalty and protection that reminds Aoi who her most important person is.

Natsume just needed to be as much himself as he could and it triggered Aoi remembering him. If only this sort of thing could work every time.

But Persona isn’t as touched as the rest of them are. Aoi has lost her utility. She remembered Natsume and can no longer be effectively manipulated. Before he can turn his alice on her, though, Mikan saves the Hyuuga siblings. It's Natsume who initially told her in the Z Arc that she has to be vigilant, always watchful, when you're in a dangerous situation after all. If Natsume is distracted, and can't be vigilant, then Mikan will be in his stead. The danger persists, and despite Natsume's readiness to protect his sister, it's Mikan once again who tackles him, nullifying him, but also knocking his alice restraining mask off his face.

Now that Mikan has touched Persona directly without his mask on, she’s certain to die.

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Even Yakumo is put off by Persona’s actions. He obviously never expected to actually be involved in the murder of a little girl. Persona shrugs it off, calling it nothing more than an accident, but that sets Natsume off.

Mikan got in the way to protect him and his sister, and now she will die.

He was willing to work as a team, but he is not willing to watch her completely take on his duty as the resident martyr.

Natsume doesn't like being protected. It's his job, after all. His life is meaningless in comparison to everyone else's. Not only is it destined to be short anyway (so who cares if it ends earlier than later?) but being protected by somebody else means he failed. Somebody is hurt because of him. Natsume is angry at Persona more than anything, but he's also disappointed in himself. Mikan should never have to take an attack for him. She got hit because he was distracted and because he didn't stay vigilant. She's hurt because he didn't do his job correctly.

He goes berserk, his fire alice raging on, despite the barrier. He screams at Persona, but it’s not enough. He hunches over in pain and gasps. Keeping up his alice like this with the barrier is difficult, and even in his anger he can’t keep it up for long.

When Hotaru tries to attack Persona, he moves to get her instead, and Mikan, already struck by his alice, decides to hit him again. Natsume is horrified. He can yell at Persona all he wants, and could even kill him, and it wouldn’t undo the damage Mikan has just now taken for her friends. She’s done for already, but each hit of Persona’s alice has her that much closer to death.

This must feel awful, Natsume. Watching somebody hurt themselves ceaselessly to protect others and not being able to do anything to help. It's a good thing you'd never put anybody in that position, especially after experiencing it for yourself, right? RIGHT?

Mikan bravely declares that she will take all of his hits, to do anything to protect her friends. She tells them to run for it and leave her to face Persona, but Aoi rushes to confront Persona. She still mistakenly thinks there’s a bond between them, that maybe she can get through to him, but he quickly proves her wrong, telling her that he won’t hesitate to use his alice on her as well if she doesn’t move aside.

He’s about to attack her, but Mikan gets in the way, not keen on her sacrifice being for nothing. She protects Aoi, perhaps in Natsume’s stead. In her final sacrifice, she is able to crack his earring, which protects him from “looking like a monster”, and now he looks on the outside the way he does on the inside, entirely corrupted by his own alice.

Now Persona is no longer a threat, as he has run away, but there remains the problem of Mikan, who has been directly hit by his alice and doesn’t stand a chance of surviving.

This whole thing is quite interesting. Natsume is practically useless here. He doesn't protect anybody: not Mikan, not Aoi, not anybody. In fact, he's the one who has to be protected. Mikan did in one day what Natsume has been doing his whole life, and she's paying for it with her life, which is what happens when somebody always chooses the happiness of others over their own.

He's so physically unwell that even his anger and rage can't assist the situation. He can't do anything. Mikan gets hit over and over and over again and all he can do is watch helplessly. You'd think an experience like this would perhaps inspire some understanding in him. Watching somebody die for you is horrible, especially when you feel so powerless as it happens. You cannot stop it from happening. You just watch as they die. But Natsume does not come away from this, thinking about the potential consequences for his martyr complex. Instead, he will do everything he can to make sure nobody ever hurts themselves to protect him again. He will protect everyone even more, to save them from the death that awaits them if they have to protect him.

If they protect him, after all, it's his fault for not being as observant, for not doing a better job. He's the soldier, the martyr. He's the one who should die for others.

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Natsume went into the dungeon, willing to give up his life, fully aware that he might never see his friends again, because it was worthwhile to him as long as he could save his sister. Despite his determination, Natsume couldn’t protect anybody. Mikan protected him, protected Hotaru, protected Aoi. The girl he loves is going to die now, and it’s his fault, because he couldn’t actually protect anybody and in turn had to be protected.

Mikan was also saying very Natsume-esque things, like “it doesn’t matter what happens to me, as long as the people I care about are safe”, and willing to give up her future for the sake of Natsume and Aoi’s futures together. He’d never wanted to be on the receiving end of selflessness. That’s his job. He’s supposed to be the one sacrificing and dying for everyone else.

In this moment, he’s powerless, because for all his talk, Aoi is free because of Mikan, and now Mikan will die, and he can’t do anything about it.

Because of this, when they all rush to Subaru and Sakurano to get Mikan immediate medical help, Natsume speaks up and takes responsibility. He promises to take Aoi and leave the academy so nobody else will suffer because of him anymore. Besides, he won’t be allowed to live normally at the school anymore anyway (he'd be in a dungeon), and it’s best for everyone, in his mind, to have him out of their hair.

His determination crumbles when Mikan wakes up just enough to sadly ask him if he’s really leaving. She looks upset at the thought of him gone, and all his resolve falls apart.

He was supposed to be protecting her and he failed. She had to take it all on because he messed up, and now she's dying. And on top of that, he's hurting her, telling her he's going to leave her. He put her in this situation and now he's just gonna leave? What kind of monster is he?

Well, he was going to but how is he supposed to do it now when you look so sad?

He can't ever leave her.

But the upperclassmen rebuke his plan anyway as unrealistic and unsound. Natsume is physically distressed and Aoi is blind, so escape will not be so easy. Besides, there’s no guarantee that Natsume taking all the blame will mean anything to the ESP, who will simply punish everyone else involved in his stead. His plan was idealistic.

But Ruka brings up a good point: why should Aoi be forced to stay in the academy when she isn’t even an alice anymore? This leads to a better plan: cause a much bigger scandal around the academy than what happened in the Hana Hime den dungeon. They’d force the school’s hand and possibly be able to get out of the situation largely unscathed.

He stands by Aoi's side. He's going to protect her and save her, because he couldn't do it before. More than that, he knows he can't leave. He'll do what he can to prove to Aoi how much she matters because he won't be coming with her and she might not see him for quite some time, if ever again. If Aoi is safe, he can focus more energy on protecting others, especially Mikan, who will need all the protecting she can get now that she's upset the academy higher ups.

For now, what matters is that they start a scandal around Aoi being held captive and abused by the academy for years.

As a result, a riot breaks out, with people either outraged that a non-alice was allowed in their midst for long or because the Hyuuga siblings suffered so much so that Natsume could become a child soldier. Thus the ESP is distracted with trying to suppress that, though he does still blame Mikan for the whole thing.

Chapter Seventy

While Mikan recuperates, strangely saved by her mysterious stealing alice, Natsume has been causing mayhem with his sister. The school is unhappy and there will be serious consequences to come, but at least he won’t be trapped in a dungeon, and Mikan won’t die.

In fact, because this scandal has exposed the truth about Natsume's situation, on the surface, the school will have to put an end to the abuse they put him through. No more beatings. No more missions. It's all about PR, and apparently people don't like seeing that kids are abused by their school. For a moment, it might really seem like things will be looking up for him. Unfortunately, nothing is quite so simple.

It is time to say good-bye to Aoi, because she cannot be forced to stay with all the scandal surrounding her. Many kids are there, which Natsume points out since it was supposed to be a secret send-off.

So many people came because they wanted to meet Aoi and because they have come to the conclusion that because Aoi is leaving, Natsume has no reason to stay either. After all, he only came to the school to keep his sister safe. Now that she won’t be held over his head anymore, why would he stick around?

Yes, he stayed for Mikan and all that, but Natsume is somehow still somewhat surprised that so many other kids in Class B care about him and don't want to see him go.

And then we see a flashback, where Aoi begs Natsume to leave the school with her, even pleading that he doesn’t leave her on her own anymore. But Natsume doesn’t have a choice. Like Sakurano and Subaru said, even if it was feasible for him to leave the school, leaving would only put the rest of them in danger. They would be held responsible for what happened in his stead and they’d be punished for his sake. And Aoi was not the only person being held over his head to begin with. Ruka and Mikan and even Yo-chan are incredibly important to him, and they have also been used as blackmail for Natsume to perform on missions.

And more than anything, Mikan almost died to protect him. He failed and she got hurt, and he can't ever allow something like that to happen again. He will do anything he can to keep her safe going forward, and that will involve a great deal of sacrifice in the future. But he's always been the protector, so he is willing to throw himself into the role of being Mikan's guardian angel. From now on, it's all about her. He simply won't allow himself to fail her again.

He tells Aoi that he can’t leave. His friends are here. But he promises to see her again, when he leaves the academy. Aoi understands, and she’s happy for her brother that he has so many people he cares about who care about him too. She used to be the only one who really understood him, how selfless he was and how many burdens he was carrying. But now he’s properly understood by so many people. She can count on them to look after him.

Natsume grew up with the idea that he has to look after other people. Aoi tells his friends to look after him, letting it be known that Natsume needs to be protected sometimes too, and that he can’t be allowed to sacrifice himself forever.

Then, Natsume is able to see his father again, for the first time since he told the driver to speed up. His dad hugs Aoi, and the gate is closed, but Natsume still goes to hug them both through the gate. The moment is touching, as it’s the first time Natsume has been able to contact his family at all in more than two years, but it’s cut short. He can’t stand by the gate forever, after all.

Listen I tried my best but this picture got me bursting into tears.

This whole moment in time is just like the family visit: too short. It should be enough that we can see Natsume happy, right? He will get everything he wants for one split second, and then he will go right back to suffering, because that's how he was always meant to be. Eternally suffering for the sake of everybody else.

Mikan is then reminded that they all have to be on their best behavior going forward or they’ll risk losing stars, but losing any stars for Mikan would send her right back to being a no-star again. In response to her panic, Ruka tosses his stars. It’s only symbolic. He’s still a triple, of course. But tossing them is supposed to represent solidarity with Mikan, and understanding from Natsume. Those stars symbolized Natsume’s suffering and endless trauma. By throwing them, Ruka is telling him that he understands what Natsume went through for them, and that he’s okay with a no-star status if Natsume is less burdened. After all, Natsume shouldn't be going on missions anymore. If Ruka's star rank is lowered, it's worth it, because Natsume will be safe and happy in exchange.

Ruka is now intent on helping to protect Mikan’s smile, no matter the cost. He then thinks, “You’ve been ready to do that for a long time, haven’t you, Natsume?”

Natsume is very smiley for a kid whose gonna go "volunteer" to suffer endlessly for his friends and the love of his life.

After all, Natsume is staying, more or less, to protect his friends, namely Mikan, who almost died to protect him. He won’t let her give any more up for his sake. That’s his job, and he’ll go back to serving it with no hesitation. His missions are supposed to stop. Coercing him will no longer be about holding Aoi over his head. The school instead will shape it like it's his idea, his choice. He can stop, if he wants, but if he chooses to continue, very good things will happen for his friends.

His suffering in the DA class is about to get a lot worse.

Conclusion

Natsume put his life on the line, risking everything to save Aoi, but in the end Mikan is the one who paid the price. Instead of viewing Mikan's sacrifice as affectionate or touching, he's angry with himself for having put her in the situation to begin with. He will never allow her to be in danger again. No matter what happens, he will be there to protect her. It has just become his life's mission. Though Aoi is safe and his missions and abuse under the school should end, they have really only just begun.

Like I was saying, Natsume doesn't do very much at the end of this arc, which is kind of the point, but it also leaves some chapters' analysis somewhat threadbare. I apologize for that.

Going forward, we'll see that Natsume has a new attitude. The illusion of choice regarding the abuse he faces from the school has given him some semblance of peace, because he's content with his duty of protecting Mikan. Every smile from her means he's doing his job right.

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#gakuen alice #alice academy #hyuuga natsume #natsume hyuuga #natsumikan #sakura mikan #mikan sakura #my meta #ga #mine #ga meta #ga meta: nm #ga meta: manga #ga meta: manga nm #let's talk about natsumikan #let's talk about natsumikan: natsume #honestly how dare mikan try to take over natsumes job. THATS HOW HE MAKES A LIVING MIKAN #im joking #sometimes i look at natsume and wonder if hes so used to sacrificing himself for others that he sometimes PUTS himsef #in dangerous situations unconsciously #hes very reckless at times #the other times him being so willing to die for everyone else rly makes it seem like he actually has a death wish #but he rly cant stand being on the receiving end of it #it drives him crazy #sacrifice as the ultimate show of love.....#but only when he does it!!!!!!#if somebody else does it then he FUCKED UP #editing these tags to drop a song rec #times infinity by mexicolas #its from the movie keith which i have strong feelings abt

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a-square-minus-one · 3 years

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Honey 10

Thank you for those who have stuck to this progressing story. Here is the new chapter. You can find the whole story on AO3 and fanfic.

I killed him.

Raven wakes up long before the team realizes she has. She can’t even register the itchy hospital bed sheets on top of her; her limbs are glued to the cot. Her chest expands as she breathes but she’d struggle less breathing underwater.

Malchior was a disgusting being. Intent to create chaos wherever he went. His only goal was to wreak havoc because he could and because no one could stop him. His life’s work was figuring out ways he could outdo his last destructive feat. His eyes only twinkled when he was asserting his dominance over something.

And she had killed him.

Or at least, separated his consciousness from its physical manifestation.

Or can you even separate that?

She made his limbs stop working.

His mouth would no longer form incantations.

Where would his thoughts go?

Would he be able to sort them or even hear them?

Or were they just whispers on another plane of existence?

Nausea makes Raven sit abruptly, the IV tugging painfully in her arm. She feels more than tastes the vomit fly out of her mouth. Chunks of yellow bits propel out onto the floor next to her, right by Starfire’s purple boots. Starfire is quick to move Raven’s hair out of the way, despite the fact that doing so sinks her boots right into the undigested food. A few tears escape Raven’s eyes.

“Star…” she groans, making a feeble attempt to push Starfire out the way but the alien just shushes her and rubs her hand over Raven’s back. A green hand extends a plastic cup of water towards her.

“Small sips,” Gar reminds her. She takes the cup out of his hands and raises it to her lips. Raven stiffens when he moves closer, replacing Starfire’s hands with his own. She stares over the rim of the cup at his torso, feeling her eyebrows crinkling. He picks up the hair from her neck. She hears a snap and feels her hair moving left to right. Then he’s at a reasonable distance again. She places a hand on her warm, now bare, neck.

“You-” she clears her throat. “-you can tie a ponytail?”

“Can’t you?” Garfield asks, looking incredibly amused. She feels her face heat up as she places the water on the tray next to her and lays back on the cot. She looks to Star’s boots and then to her face.

“I’m so-”

“Shh I will be hearing none of that friend,” Starfire says, handing Raven a wipe. Raven wipes off one side of her lips. Her hand pauses when she gets to the other side.

“How many civilians?” Raven asks, her fingers trembling behind the tissue. Garfield immediately straightens out his relaxed shoulders. His jaw tightens. Starfire looks down to her feet. Raven turns to Cyborg.

“Two.”

Two fingers touch her lips as the contents of her stomach turn again. Her eyes well up as she swallows around the undigested food rising in her esophagus.

“Ages?” she asks in an almost imperceptible voice.

No one answers.

She clenches her fingers around the wipe and presses it to her forehead.

“Ages?” she pleads.

“54 and 65,” Cyborg says; his rage is like a hot iron in her side. Raven feels Starfire’s despair pelting her on the other side like an open waterfall. Garfield’s emotions are all sharp corners and metal bristles. She can’t even bear to approach the edges of it for fear that she’ll pop and everything will come pouring out of her. She sinks back into her cot trying to tighten her core under the pressure of all their emotions. She almost finds balance in the current until she senses something, like seaweed twisting on her toes when she’s swimming in the ocean.

“You’re not telling me something,” she says, eyeing Garfield who hasn’t looked her way since tying up her hair. She almost didn’t want to ask considering how tenuous her hold on herself is.

“There was a six year old boy,” Nightwing says, entering the room with arms crossed over his chest. He leans against the doorframe of the med bay. Raven lets out a long breath. She spends a lot of her life thinking about how she breathes. Breathing is the first step to meditation. Right now she wonders what it would be like to be trapped at the end of a long exhale.

“He-”

“Is in ICU,” Nightwing finishes. She brings knees to her chest and sinks her head into them, gripping the fitted sheet on the cot. Her throat is one fire.

“We have to visit the family,” she says, looking at her team members. Everyone pauses.

“We did,” Garfield says, scratching the back of his neck the way he does when he’s pensive or nervous. Raven squints her eyes. She lays her legs flat on the cot.

“I have to visit the families,” she says, shifting to get up. Garfield quickly puts his hands on her shins and she almost kicks him off in surprise.

“You can’t,” Garfield says.

“Why not?”

“The public doesn’t love us right now,” Nightwing says, moving from his position at the door.

Then she feels it, pressing against her. Fire, all around her, filling the gaps between her fingertips, licking up the back of her knees. She almost gasps at the intensity of it.

“You’re angry,” she says, quickly looking up at Nightwing. A few strands of her hair have escaped the ponytail Garfield made for her. Starfire steps forward.

“We all are,” she says. Raven doesn’t look her way, keeping her eyes locked on the immobile Nightwing. This is a different anger. Nightwing knows she knows; their bond hasn’t faded in the years since she went into his mind.

“Where’s Malchior, Raven? Nightwing asks, his index finger twitching against his bicep. The fire around her stops all together. Something cool, fragile, and thin settles over them like a layer of frost on water. Then Raven makes the mistake of looking down. A fireball hits her in the chest like a cannon, she tumbles backwards on the cot.

“Damnit Raven!” Nightwing says. She looks up at his face, now red underneath his mask.

“Yo dude, chill out. She just woke up,” Garfield says. Nightwing whips towards him, his index finger inches away from Garfield’s chest. Raven is ashamed that she feels immediate relief at Garfield’s expense.

“How about instead of worrying about Raven you explain to me where the hell all the animosity for me came from?” Nightwing says, leaning much too far into Garfield’s personal bubble. Garfield leans back and tilts his head.

“Dude, clearly that wasn’t me.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’re not you when you transform into other animals?” Nightwing poses this as a question but the fact that each word is coming out like hisses between his clenched teeth makes it seem like he has already decided his answer.

“You know this isn’t just one of my other animal forms and could you check your tone?” Garfield asks. Raven feels his irritation like pricks from a cactus. She wiggles her fingers.

“Everytime the Beast has been present, I have been targeted,” Nightwing’s tone is even when he says this but punctuated in a manner that suggests he has ruminated on this and has already come to his own conclusions. His words sound rehearsed.

“That’s just not true and either way I’ve shown you for years that I’ve been able to control my powers as much as everyone else on the team, if not better.”

“You weren’t able to two days ago.”

“We don’t fight magical dragons everyday,” Garfield bites out and Nightwing swivels towards Raven again.

“And apparently we never will again!” Spit flies out of Nightwing’s mouth as he leans over the end of Raven’s cot. She sits up straight even though Nightwing’s words land heavy like a punch to her stomach.

“Almost sounds like you’re going to miss him,” Raven hisses back. Nightwing’s face is so red that Raven is sure it will explode off of his body.

“How can you be so desensitized to the loss of a life?”

“Jesus Nightwing relax! It isn’t like she hunted this man down, which is more than I can say about you and Slade...every six months...like clockwork!”

“And yet he’s still alive.” The muscles on Nightwing’s neck are straining as he turns towards Garfield, bumping his chest a little. Any other man would have taken a step back and on any other occasion Garfield would too but right then, he doesn’t.

“Is that because you haven’t tried or because you’ve never gotten close enough,” Garfield says, jutting his own chest outwards so it bumps Nightwing’s.

“Much closer than you did when he turned Terra into stone.”

“Dude what in the actual fuck?” Garfield growls.

“That is quite enough!” Starfire yells, wedging herself between the pair. “You have both done the crossing of the line! Friend Raven is barely recovered!”

Neither man stands down, glaring at each other over Starfire’s shoulders. “Are you going to arrest me Richard?” Raven asks, chin tilted upwards. Nightwing turns away from Starfire and removes his hand from his utility belt.

“He will do no such thing-” Starfire starts.

“You’re not being fair,” he says. Raven tilts her chin higher and arches an eyebrow.

“If you are not going to arrest me then we have more important things to talk about right now than any morally ambiguous decisions I made that there is no way I can undo,” Raven mumbles. “Even if I really wanted to.”

Nightwing runs a hand through his hair then drops both of his hands on his hips. He’s looking her in the eyes. Anyone else wouldn’t be able to tell because of his mask but she knows he is. He’s trying to consolidate all his anger into a concentrated cube. She respects the effort. Garfield, who is hunched over like his spine is ready to break through the skin of his back, clearly does not.

“We have two of your brothers in custody. Lust and Gluttony. I will be handling interrogations. You can watch from another room. ”

Raven sucks in her bottom lip. She knows her brothers better than Nightwing but she’s on thin ice with him as is. She’d have to let him cool down a little before she can get anywhere near that room.

“If you’re going in alone, I need to heavily armor you.”

Nightwing shrugs stiffly. She nods.

Behind Nightwing, Garfield takes his exit; his anger is radiating off of him like an electric heater. Nightwing looks after him, his lips in a straight line but doesn’t try to stop him.

“How much of a dick was I?” Nightwing asks once Garfield has left the room.

“12/10 bro,” Cyborg says, rubbing his forehead. Nightwing cringes.

“I’m going to go talk to him,” Raven says, looking at Cyborg and then towards her IV. Cyborg looks hesitant at first but eventually sighs and does as he’s told.

...........................................................................

“This is very carnivalesque.” Raven says as she sits next to Garfield on the roof. Garfield raises an eyebrow at her “Usually you’re the one who comes to see me on the roof.”

“What?” Garfield asks.

“Nothing,” Raven says, looking down at her feet. She’s not as good as he is at this.

“You should be in the med bay for observations.”

“With all the healing it would be very hard to kill me,” she says. She feels a few fat drops of rain smack her cheek but Garfield doesn’t flinch so she stays put. Raven looks up at the thick clouds moving in the sky.

“Do you think you’ll die like the rest of us?” Garfield asks. Random. Raven hums. “I mean your father...sorry I know it’s a touchy subject-”

“No, go ahead,” Raven says, keeping her eyes on the sky. A warmth spreads in her chest like when she drinks hot tea. It’s been nice for her to see how delicate Garfield is with her boundaries in the last couple of years.

“Trigon is immortal. Does that make you immortal too?” he asks.

“I really hope not,” Raven mumbles immediately. “I’m not a god.”

Her mind immediately goes to Malchior’s lifeless body beneath her.

“Don’t lose any sleep over him,” Garfield says. Raven hums again. “Malchior. That’s who you’re thinking about, right?”

Raven looks away from the sky. Garfield’s lashes are dark and long. He’s green almost everywhere but around his pupils there is a rim of orange that she’s always been fascinated by.

“I took his life away,” she says, curling up her bare toes. “I-I’m afraid…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Garfield interrupts softly. She feels the warmths curl through her insides again. She has to break eye contact.

“I don’t know if I made the right choice. It kind of feels...heavy? If that makes sense.”

“It makes sense.”

It grows quiet again.

“Nightwing was more angry at me than he was at you,” she says. Silence.

A few drops of water land on her thighs. She’s getting a little cold now. She had only come out in the oversized t-shirt she was wearing in the med bay. She thinks it’s Cyborg’s. It fits her like a dress.

“I think he might be right.”

Raven looks up at him, ready to protest. The protests die on her lips when she makes eye contact.

“I keep banking on the fact that I can control the Beast but it kind of sucks. He’s pulling at me all the time.”

“He doesn’t like Nightwing?”

“...He doesn’t like Nightwing’s power over me. Doesn’t like that he’s the one who calls the shots. Which is the complete opposite of me. Usually Nightwing and Cyborg are the ones measuring their dicks to see who gets to be boss.”

Raven snorts.

“Would it be so bad to let him out every once and a while? What else could he want?” Raven asks. Garfield presses his lips together. And his silence stretches like cheese. Just when she thinks it's about the tear, it stretches some more. For much longer than it should. She can’t pinpoint exactly what changes but she is suddenly hyper aware of how long she’s been looking into his eyes. She isn’t about to let on that she noticed the shift though because that would mean that it actually happened.

But maybe she should move?

Or look down?

Why isn’t he saying anything?

Did he lean forward?

Breathe Raven.

She inhales sharply.

There is a flash of lighting in her peripheral vision.

He doesn’t break eye contact.

“Can I see the scar The Beast left?” he finally whispers, keeping eye contact. Oh, that’s what he was thinking about.

She can’t think straight. What did I think he was thinking about? She pulls up her shirt without a second thought, looking down with him...

Then screams internally when she remembers she isn’t wearing any pants.

She freezes. Thunder rumbles.

He doesn’t say anything. She wonders if she’d hear him anyway over the long ‘AGHH!’ reverberating in her head.

She looks up at him; he hasn’t said anything about her lack of pants. Instead he’s staring intently at her side, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip wedged between his teeth.

Breathe. The team has changed in front of each other before. No big deal.

She wishes she can get a clear read on his emotions but she can barely get a hold on hers.

Then he reaches out his fingertips and slowly runs over the ridges of the three bumpy stripes on her side.

This time she actually shrieks out loud, dropping her shirt immediately. A few rocks on the shore explode into a million little fragments. He pulls his hands away like he just accidentally touched a stove.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry! Jesus, I don’t know why I did that,” he squeals immediately, running a hand through his hair roughly.

Aghhhhhh

“No! It’s... um...fine.Your fingers were just cold.”

The skin around her scars is burning.

Aghhhh .

He shuts his eyes so tightly that she can see little wrinkles at the edges of them. It looks like he wants to turn into a mosquito and fly away. She stays quiet. He places a hand over his eyes.

“Listen...I...I’m sorry about that. The touching,” his voice squeaks. He clears his throat. “But also giving you the scar in the first place.”

He reluctantly moves his hands away and looks at her again.

“I’m serious. I don’t want to hurt Nightwing. I don’t want to ever hurt you,” Garfield says, his skin changing from brown to green as his blush fades.

Agggghhhhh.

She hums.

Not the right response.

He sucks his lips into his mouth, face getting incredibly brown just as it was resuming its original shade.

“I-” he starts.

She looks at him.

He looks at her.

He flies away.

#bbrae

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secretbondsandloveconfessions · 3 years

Text

All Bastards Are Brothers

Just a series of kinda fluffy, kinda angsty one-shots about the brotherly bond between Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel. Stories are not connected.

Ao3:

Part 1: Knowin’ My Fate Is To Be With You

Azriel shows up to dinner one night with a hickey, leaving the Inner Circle full of questions. Rhys and Azriel have a heart to heart.

“Az, what's that?"

Mor asked. He traced her glance back to the crook of his neck where, after a moment of thought, he remembered the dark purple bruise given to him only a few hours before. He quickly covered it up with a wisp of shadow and feigned innocence.

"What's what?"

"On your neck there." She pointed at the shadow. "Was that a bruise?"

"There's nothing there."

"Bullshit, move your shadows."

"I don't think I need to, there's nothing there."

"What's going on down here?" Cassian turned to face them. This could only go downhill from here.

"Azriel has a hickey," Mor said, her voice chipper and mocking.

"I do not."

"Then why won't you show me your neck?"

"Why won't you believe me?" He shot back. He was always ready to accept a challenge, and as Mor stuck her tongue out at him, he did the same.

Cassian watched the two curiously before clearing his throat. "You know, Az, before you go all defensive, you should know you're blushing." Shit. That wasn't good. He could feel his face heat up faster than he anticipated. He didn't dare look at Elain, but he felt her heavy gaze. Her very own blush was likely brushing down her pale skin as she watched him get berated for the mark that she left.

"Fine." Azriel removed his shadows and hissed. "It's a hickey."

"I knew it!" Mor cheered loudly, gaining the rest of the attention of the table. He faced Cassian again, who had a feline smirk. "Who?"

He kept his mouth shut. Any name would be a lie—one that Mor would be able to sense—and he wasn't about to bring Elain down with him.

"Second one this week," Cassian said. "I think Azriel has a side piece."

"Second one?" Mor raised an eyebrow at him, and Azriel wanted to cringe at the memory of the training earlier this week. His face felt hot. If he had blushing before, he had to be scarlet by now, especially after Cassian walked over and pointed to the place between Azriel's wings, causing Mor to squeal with delight.

Azriel had chugged the rest of his wine by the time Cassian sat down again and cursed the Mother for his luck.

"Neck and the wings? I didn't know you had it in you, Azzie," Cassian teased. Azriel weaved the shadows around him further, wondering if he should just winnow away at this point.

"How long has this been going on? Do we know her?" Mor asked. "OH! Is it the female who hit on you at Rita's?"

Azriel kept silent, refusing to answer either of his friends' remarks. Though that only seemed to spur them on more.

"Azzie, she was a hot one, no wonder you kept her for yourself," Cassian followed, and Azriel braced himself as the blonde opened her mouth again, but it never came.

"Alright, leave him alone," Rhys intervened. "He's one snigger away from disappearing into the shadows forever."

Cassian and Mor protested, but he only raised another hand.

"You never stop them from mocking me," Cassian mumbled. "That's all I'm saying."

"You make yourself a target, boy." Amren chimed in.

Mor laughed loudly at that, before pouring both of them another glass. Azriel was thankful for the subconscious reaction and the change of subject.

However, he only got a few moments of peace before he felt Rhys's warm presence ask to enter his mind, and despite his better judgment, Azriel let him in.

I'm impressed. Rhys purred into his brain from the other side of the table.

Fuck you.

More like fuck you if we're going with the evidence.

What do you want?

Let's chat tonight. Rhys vacated his mind, though not without leaving in his mind a picture of Azriel's own face, thoroughly red and sheepish, and a mocking laugh. He knew Rhys wouldn't be his savior tonight.

———

Azriel would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous, so as he knocked on the open door of the study, he pressed his lips together and grimaced.

"You wanted to talk?" Azriel asked.

Rhys nodded, leaning against his desk. "I did, and I do."

Feyre sat next to him, absorbed in a pile of paperwork, and if Azriel was about to have the conversation he thought he was going to have, then he definitely didn't want her there. He sent a pleading look to Rhysand, who, much to his credit, understood. "We'll go out to the balcony."

With a kiss to Feyre's head, his High Lord led him out to the private deck, and the anxiety in Azriel's stomach soared, his shadows swirling around him.

"I'm assuming this is about earlier."

"You're seeing someone," He stated, watching as Azriel nodded. "And I had no idea. You didn't tell any of us, which makes me think that Amren's assessment was true."

"What did Amren say?"

"She muttered something to me about you being the only male she can stand because you hide every aspect of your romances. She was wrong, Az. You've kept them out of the spotlight, but you've never lied about being with them, not like you did tonight. It made me wonder, what makes this one different?" Azriel remained silent, unwilling to answer his brother's question. Luckily, Rhys answered it for him. "I can only think of three reasons why you'd keep the identity of your lover secret."

"I see you've put a lot of thought into this."

"It's not often that you take extra measures with a lover." A valid point. "I want you to be happy, brother, truly, so please don't hide yourself from me—you have a record of doing that, you know. Will you promise me that you won't lie about anything?"

"Will you promise not to tell the others?" Azriel asked him, quietly. "You can tell Feyre, I wouldn't ask you to keep something like this from your mate."

"I swear it on the graves of my mother and sister."

"I won't lie to you then." A fond smile crossed Rhys's face.

"Good, well, I want to make sure this person is worth it, so I'll start by asking, is this secret lover worth putting the strain forward?"

"Yes," was all he could think to say. He didn't trust himself to say anymore. Rhysand's smile got bigger, spilling over into his violet eyes, and Azriel felt himself blush a little once more. Rhys was always the most sentimental out of the three.

"Good. I'm glad they're worth it. Now, I have questions. Number one, you're ashamed of this person."

Azriel looked up in alarm. "Why would I be ashamed?" Cauldron, he would scream it to the entire Night Court that he loved Elain Archeron. The entirety of Prythian if he had to.

"I thought that maybe you had gotten tangled up with someone you shouldn't, like a Spring Court Lady, or a human, or I thought for a long moment, that maybe she wasn't a she after all..." Azriel raised his eyebrow at the last one.

"What?"

"Well, it occurred to me that I didn't know if you took males in bed, and then I started thinking, that if you really hadn't wanted us to know, you could and would hide it very well. I'm not here to judge, but if you say yes, then I feel like this chat will get a little more heartfelt than intended." Rhys rambled on, scratching the back of his neck. Azriel almost pitied him.

"I've never taken a man to bed, Rhys, and I do not plan too."

"Okay, good because I was lousy at talking to Mor about that."

"...and she's not lesser fae either."

"All right then, number two: is this a protective 'She's my mate' scenario?"

"No, I don't think we're mates."

"Are you sure?"

"Most people don't find their mates, Rhys," Azriel reminded him, masking the annoyance in his voice. Just because both he and Cassian found their mates didn't mean they all would.

"True. Number three: she's someone we know. In that case, my only question is how sweet, flower growing Elain is able to bruise an Illyrian."

Azriel gaped at him, demanding. "How?"

"The only person redder than you at dinner, which, by the way, was the highlight of this decade, was dear sweet Elain. Feyre told me that she thought Elain too innocent to hear it. I didn't quite think so."

"Are you going to have this little chat with her also?"

"Oh, I think she'll suffer enough from her own embarrassment than to have me do it again. Besides, you're more fun to torture."

"Can't you go tease Cassian?"

"We both know why I can't do that..." Rhys said candidly, and Azriel didn't dare to be hopeful that Rhys would drop the subject. Rhys's small frown turned into another smile soon after, and Azriel swallowed. "You hardly ever have anything for me to talk about anyway. I need to utilize this situation to its full potential. In fact, after you inform my mate of my win, I'm going to ask her to paint your lovely face...you remember the one?"

Rhys sent the same picture of Azriel's blushed face. Azriel rolled his eyes and spoke. "Shut it, Rhys."

To his surprise, Rhys did, choosing instead to turn towards the railing and look over the glittering lights of Velaris. Azriel did the same and took another sip of his wine.

"When do you think you'll tell everyone else?" Rhys said after a moment.

"Oh, I don't know, I'd rather have tonight fade from their minds before I say anything, though I suppose that's rather optimistic of me."

"I don't think Cassian and Mor will let that go, brother, but you can deal with them."

"Well, then there's always Nesta...And I'd rather not have my cock ripped off of my body."

Rhys cringed. "She's going to be a hard one to convince, my sympathies lie with you."

"My only hope is that she and Cassian can distract each other."

"Again, optimistic."

"True," he said cordially before quickly adding, "But I suppose it's up to Elain, really. She's much more conservative in these matters."

Rhys scoffed, "The irony in that statement. You two are made for each other."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't bullshit me. You do the same exact thing."

"I do not," Azriel insisted, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

"Az, when's the last time you had a quick fuck?"

"Wh—?" Azriel sputtered. "That's none of your concern."

Rhysand gave him a long look before he turned it into a sickening grin. Azriel wanted to slap it off his face. "You were saying?"

"Go fuck yourself," he laughed.

#a court of thorns and roses #fanfiction #rhysand #elriel fanfiction #humor #azriel #elain archeron #bat bros #elriel #feysand #rhys #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #elriel fic

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florenceandthemachine · 4 years

Text

that original lifeline

chapter 4 / 5 - “you deserve what you are given” - 2.2k

in which Eddie has a chance at some closure—but not in the way you might think.

note the update to the chapter count—it didn't feel right wrapping up everything in one last chapter. the beautiful, wonderful @buckleydiazs inspired a totally new ending with one of her recent works and honestly you should all be reading everything she’s ever written.

that all said and done, I won't keep you waiting too long. the last chapter will be up tomorrow, and I love all of you forever and ever.

read on AO3

For all intents and purposes, Eddie Diaz felt like a dead man walking.

He had been swallowed up by the Earth and spit back out, in once piece, but that didn’t mean that he was whole.

For the first month, he seemed to fluctuate wildly between the first three stages of grief, but honestly, he attributed a good portion of that to the mandatory leave of absence he had been given from the 118. He had already lost an eternal being, so sure, absolutely, losing the one routine he had going for him was great!

As ashamed as he was to admit it, his denial spiked the highest whenever he was around Christopher. His son was so good, so fucking kind, and sweet, and it just didn’t feel fair for Eddie to do anything other than smile with him and support him in any way that he could. He had to admit, that was the only shred of silver lining he could see in his mandatory leave—he got to wake up with Chris every morning, he got to take him to school and pick him up after, and he got to give Carla a very, very well deserved vacation.

If he spent the hours that Chris was out of the house begging to a God that he figured hated him, well, that was his own business.

When he did get angry, Eddie made damn sure to do it on his own time, in his own house, in his own state of being—he would sooner jump back under an exploding fire truck than allow any of his anger leak through to Chris, and besides, the only person that he was really angry with was himself. He still didn’t know why he had volunteered to go down in the first place—Chim would have been the much more logical choice, he was smaller, he was lighter, and he could move faster, all of that proven when Chim had successfully pulled the kid out of the muddy hole in record time. Unfortunately, there was one thing he didn’t have—the heaps of fucked up brainpower that Eddie seemed to tap into whenever he was out on a call that involved a kid.

Somewhere around the six week mark, Eddie’s brain had finally given up on bouncing back and forth between denial, bargaining, and anger, and instead slipped right into stage four—a deep, comfortable, whole body depression—one that felt impossible to shake, one that felt like a thick, weighted blanket, wrapped around his body, layering guilt, sadness, shame….

…well. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone that he wasn’t in a great place. But what the hell else was he supposed to do, go to therapy?

“Hi, I’m Eddie, I’m sad because my guardian angel died. I haven’t been able to sleep in weeks without nightmares about being buried alive. Why yes, I am still on active duty as a firefighter.”

Yeah, that was going to go over so well.

One of the many fucked up surprises this newer, nihilistic state of being brought him were the rare moments when he managed to break out of the shell he used to call a personality. He would snort with a sudden spike of laughter at something a comic on television said, or feel a pulse of genuine sadness when he was reading Chris his bedtime story. The moments were few and far between, and they were never more than a few seconds long.

So, the surge of resignation he felt when he saw red and blue lights erupt in his rearview mirror came as something of a surprise, in and of itself… and then he realized he was going ten over the limit, and resigned this entire day to another page in the Eddie Diaz book.

It was one of his rare days off—rare, because he had been picking up every extra shift he could to help keep his mind busy—and Chris had been overjoyed at the idea of spending a day with Abuela, a rare treat for both of them once Carla entered their lives. Eddie had swung by after work, had an early dinner with his family, kissed Abuela and Pepa goodbye while dodging all of their questions about what was wrong, and why he looked so sad, and if you would just talk to us, Eddito. He had ignored it all, skillfully loaded Chris into the back of his truck, pretended not to feel a little envious when his son passed out within minutes, and—

—and now he was getting pulled over for speeding.

Eddie allowed himself all of five seconds to rest his head against the steering wheel, the urge to scream only lessened by the knowledge that Chris was asleep in the back of his truck, before he pulled out his wallet and fished his license and registration out. He rolled his window down as the officer started to walk toward the truck, unable to even entertain the idea that he was going to drive away with less than a ticket for whatever it was he had done wrong.

“You can go ahead and put those away.”

Eddie blinked in confusion as the officer approached his window, his hand hesitating awkwardly before he slowly pulled his arm back inside his truck, the cards tossed absentmindedly onto the passengers seat of the truck.

“I don’t need your license to know who you are, Edmundo. It’s good to finally meet you. I’m sorry it had to be like this, but I had to ensure we wouldn’t be interrupted.”

Typically, an announcement like that usually would have set off every siren in Eddie’s head, but he hadn’t had the energy for something like that for weeks now. Instead, he shifted in his seat, not quite leaning out the window but definitely getting a better look at the officer standing just outside his truck, the lights from her squad car still blinking in his side view mirror.

“How do you know who I am?”

She smiled, expression sharp and calculating, and Eddie didn’t need her to take off her sunglasses to know that she was looking him over, staring right through him. He didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt desperate that she would approve of whatever it was that she saw.

“My name is Athena.”

Suddenly, things clicked in his brain, and it wasn’t just in the sharp smile of the officer—or, not officer—standing in front of him. He was knocked back, almost violently, sitting outside of a shitty shake shack with Buck, ankles knocked together under the table, laughing about whatever.

He almost choked as a surge of emotion shot through him, rattling the very shell of his empty being, a sadness and a guilt so strong, so overwhelming, that it threatened to spill out of him in a moments notice. He gripped the steering wheel so hard he wouldn’t have been surprised if he bent it, face going through a flurry of emotions, not trusting himself to speak when he couldn’t even breathe.

Fuck, here Eddie was supposed to be strong, for his kid, for his teammates, and four words had him blinking back tears in the drivers seat of his truck. “Athena, I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what he was going to do, I wouldn’t have let him, I promise, this is all my—“

“Hey, hey, stop that.” She took a small step forward as Eddie felt his jaw click shut, tucking her sunglasses into her uniform pocket. “I don’t blame you for anything, and you shouldn’t be blaming yourself. Buck told you about our relationship with free will, right? Well, he had it, too. Everything he did was by choice. His energy was his own to give, and you can’t beat yourself up for him choosing to use it on you. He wouldn’t want that.”

Her smile had softened into something more genuine, something more understanding, and as much as Eddie wanted to let it calm him down, wanted to trust it, he… couldn’t.

Eddie felt another wave of emotion surge forward, dangerously close to the edge—anger this time, hot and sticky in the back of his throat. Here this perfect stranger was telling him what to think, what to believe, what Buck would want, and the worst part of it all was that Eddie had no reason to doubt her. All in all, he really, really didn’t know Buck—not as well as he thought he did, certainly. But maybe not even at all.

No sooner did that thought enter his mind did his anger die down, leaving him feeling nauseous, guilty, and as gross as it was to admit it—a little pleased. He hadn’t felt genuine emotion in so long, he had been beginning to think he couldn’t anymore.

Eddie let out a rattling breath as he leaned forward to rest his head on the steering wheel once again, only now, Athena looked mostly sympathetic, arms loosely at her sides, thumbs tucked into her utility belt as she waited for Eddie to get his bearings again.

“I miss him.”

Athena let out a little laugh as she nodded her head, her smile wide again, looking at Eddie with something between fondness and exasperation. It was a look he had grown very used to, spending more time with Abuela.

“I know, Eddie. I do too.”

They shared another moment of silence while Eddie counted his breaths, interrupted only when Athena cleared her throat and looked down, kicking at the ground near Eddie’s front tire.

“I’m not going to stand here and try to placate you with promises, or niceties, because this world is already unstable enough, and I am not going to waste either of our time. I’m here to offer you a choice, Eddie. I’m here to offer you a chance of… closure, of sorts.”

Eddie felt his pulse start to quicken as she spoke, not because of the words she said, but because Eddie could already feel it—the same warmth, the energy that used to dance around Buck, was already beginning to swirl around Athena’s narrow frame, making Eddie homesick for a place he didn’t think he would ever be able to return to.

“What, um…” He had to swallow, taking a moment to look at Chris in the rear view mirror, still conked out against his doorframe. “What exactly are you offering me?”

Athena’s jaw was squared again, slowly lifting her hand up from her belt, fingers splayed before her. If it was a little darker out—if Eddie closed his eyes—he could almost swear they were luminous.

“Buck was under my care, he was my responsibility, and that means you were too, even if it was in an indirect way. Eddie, I didn’t know what was going to happen, before or after you went down that hole, but I hope you believe me when I tell you how sorry I am that you had to go through that. No human should ever have to deal with… with a loss of that magnitude.”

And there it was, the unbreakable truth that Athena had been dancing around since she pulled him over. Loss. It was a loss, Buck really was gone. Not an angel, not a guardian, not anymore. Eddie had to swallow again.

“I can’t lessen that pain. Only time can do that, and to what extent, even I don’t know. But what I can do is take it away from you, make you forget. Your life will still be your own, but the moments where Buck shone through will be altered, so you’ll have seen the situations just like any other human would have.”

Eddie took in a deep breath, letting it out between loose lips, taking in a few more before he could speak. “So it’ll be like I never saw him in the first place. Like I never knew what was protecting me.”

Athena nodded her head, moving her fingers slowly, focusing on them as much as she was on him. “It’s important to me that you understand I won’t force you to do anything here—this is all your choice. And I’m sorry to say it’s a choice you have to make relatively quickly, I’m already breaking enough protocols being here right now.”

Eddie laughed—he couldn’t help himself, the sound pulled from his throat without him expecting it. “So I guess you’re where Buck got his strict adherence to the rules, huh?”

Athena clicked her tongue and leaned in to smack his arm with her free hand, but the smile on her face was genuine, the touch feather light compared to what Eddie knew she could do.

“His presence has been a bright spot in your life, and I’m glad for that, but I know it can get awful dark without that light. So, it’s up to you. Do you want to keep living, having had this experience, but knowing that no one can relate to it, can help you past it now that it’s over? Or do you want to forget you ever saw his light, to be able to move forward without this darkness weighing on your heart?”

For the first time in months, Eddie was able to sleep through the night.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #911 #guardianangel!buck #guardian angel #AU #closure #hurt/comfort #this chapter and my entire heart dedicated to cailee who single handedly unintentionally changed the whole direction of the ending

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mrneighbourlove · 3 years

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Band of Pirates: Ch 3. Working the Grind

Adda walked with Corsaire to this inn, not exactly looking forward to it, but swallowing her pride non the less.

"So... how did you like meeting her 'baby'?" Corsaire asked with a wide grin. "Can't say you didn't ask." He opened the door to the Hatchling's Nest, a boarding house for women. A Lorleidian woman by the name of Sayen ran the place, and had a baby dragon sitting on her shoulder. "Hello, Sayen, I assume Queen Zarazu mentioned the band of women coming to stay with here?"

"Yes! We have them all rooms ready, two to a room, and a shower to share." The Munja was bubbly. "Breakfast is served at six in the morning for the staff and starts at seven for the customers over at the Farmer's Daughter."

“Farmer’s Daughter.... that’s a terrible name.” Adda muttered to herself. “You’re positive I can’t work a docking job?”

"Only unless you rather be elbow deep in fish guts making chum." Corsaire gestured to Sayen. "Take the waitressing job. They provide babysitting; docking doesn't."

“I- goddamn it...” Adda couldn’t argue. Turning her attention to Sayen, she gave a half-hearted grin. “Better get used to a lot of hardened sailors’ sweetheart. Cause Gerudo can be a hardy bunch.”

"Oh, don't worry about that, my girl Ghrilda gave a customer a black eye for touching her backside the other day. We have a sign that clearly states you can enjoy the view, but if you touch, you're guaranteed a touch back." Sayen assured Adda with a most mischievous smile. "The first month is free; our queen graciously paid for you and your ladies to board her as well as your childcare. However, when the second month hits, rent is due on the first. It is fifty rupees a month, utilities included, and part of the fee goes toward the childcare, maintenance, and general upkeep for the building and outside gardens. Is this agreeable?"

“Agreeable. And thanks. Cause I’d just pop the next fucker with one of these if they tried that. We’re all kind of wired.” Adda placed a revolver on the desk. “No bloodshed obviously, but what’s your policy on keeping our weapons?”

"You may leave weapons in your room, but none are allowed in the restaurant." Sayen told Adda. "The name is terrible, I agree, but it is a very upscale restaurant; formal parties and a specific state of dress for both customer and waitresses. If you're lucky, you can make over 300 rupees a night!"

“That’s... a start.” Adda tried to be optimistic. She turned to Freddy and handed her the weapons she carried. “Take this to my room. I have a manager to win over.” “Yes Captain.”

"... Adda, you do realize you already have the job." Corsaire asked her. "You and all your girls. You just have to walk in and ask for your hours."

“Oh. My reputation proceeds me. Can I start today?”

"I'll ask if there's a shift open for dinner, that's usually our busiest time." Sayen then reminded Adda. "You'll have to learn the menu quickly though. There's a different menu for each shift; breakfast, lunch and dinner."

“I’ll read some if you have any.”

"Of course," Sayen handed Adda the all of the menus, each written in the most elaborate cursive of the Hylian language. "Though first, please settle into your rooms and if you don't mind, write your names on the board provided on the door. That way, I know who is rooming with who in case someone calls for you."

Adda looked at the crew and waved them to move out with a head nod. “Wait a second. Nine, ten- where’s Scarlet?”

With Revy to her nipple, Scarlet sighed. “What got you so angry at the meeting Rat?”

Rat was trying to figure out the difference between loyalty and brainwashing. How to tell the two apart? He reasoned Corsaire was his friend and he was loyal to him. Yet, Corsaire did not demand, did not order, he asked. His captain asked if Rat wanted to be part of his crew. He asked him to help on the ship. He asked him if he wanted a different job, to have his own family one day. It was a friendship. Adda, on the other hand, barked orders like she ruled the place. If she ordered one of her sisters to fall on their own weapon, the girls would probably do it. "... Adda ain't your focus anymore, Scarlet."

“She’s just trying to keep our spirits up Rat.”

"By calling you into battle when you have a baby?!"

“She said now wasn’t the time to attack. But to gather our strength for the future. That’s her way of expressing she knows when we’re beat for now, but that we’ll strike back when the time is good and ready. You don’t know her like I do.”

"I know her enough that she'd turn tail and run, leaving you's if it meant saving her own skin." There was no way that Rat would be convinced. "Me knows people like that, Scarlet, been there, done that, ain't living through it again."

“Rat. I’m going to tell you this once. You’re dead wrong about that.”

"She ran from that Onslaught, what's to say she won't run again, even if it means you're the one left hanging?"

Rat was lucky that Scarlet was feeding Revy, because the look that she gave him was one of scorn. Her voice didn’t raise in volume, but her tone became frightfully dark. “You shut your goddamn mouth. She tried to save as many of us as she could. You weren’t fucking there.”

Scarlet never swore, so that hurt came out strong. She looked away from Rat, ashamed to look at him for a moment. “Don’t... don’t buy into rumours or assume things you weren’t there for.”

"It doesn't matter if I was a-there or not, it's what I know now! What I know, is she put you and Reveka in danger." Rat was not ashamed by his words at all. He had seen slave masters and their cruelty, how gladiators sold out their so-called friends, and fellow slaves fighting over a scrap of bread. "I don't want you going off on some quest for revenge when you have a wee one to care for; now or later. Revy will need you, I will need you alive."

“Well, maybe I want those monsters to pay too. For my own personal means. You ever have to see one of your brothers die Rat? Try over a hundred siblings to me. Children, comrades, and mentors. And the worse part is I don’t even know if they are still alive.”

"Me's lost me fair share too, Scarlet, but the difference between you and I is I don't dwell on it." Rat told her sternly. "Yes, I mourned me brother, still miss him. I don't know where he is, if he's alive. Though I can't live me life on a-what ifs. This isn't about you, Adda, or even me for this matter. It's about her." He gently stroked Revy's head with a finger. "Would you be willing to put her in danger, Scarlet? For some quest of revenge?"

“You kill the one who took your brother from you?”

"No. I never found him."

“Well I know who killed my sisters. And even if I don’t kill them myself, I’ll work hard in getting someone else to do it.” She gripped Rat’s hand, squeezing tight. “I’m not going anywhere. But I’m not going to forget. And I’m not going to do nothing either. I’ll put what effort I can in helping acquire justice for my sisters.”

"... me's not against you getting justice, Scarlet. I just don't want you doing it, you in danger."

“I won’t. I’m not going to be on the front lines. I’m an officer Rat. I command.”

"I don't want you in the lines at all, Scarlet. Me used to fight, but me doesn't anymore, not unless I have to." Rat begged her. "Please... for Revy's sake, no more fighting. What would I do without you here to raise her?"

“Rat. I can’t make promises like that. The world is uncertain and dangerous. I can only promise to navigate around the danger instead of going through it.”

"... then promise me you won't go fighting unless it's to protect Revy from immediate harm."

“I promise.”

A knock came at the door, and when Rat answered it, like a boogeyman stepping out of the closet, Klinge strode in. “Afternoon.”

"...? Klinge?" Rat was surprised. "I's surprised to see you a-here of all places. Something wrong?"

“I’m here to see the woman.”

Scarlet flinched, unnerved by the presence of the black armoured man. Didn’t help she felt vulnerable while breast feeding.

Rat stood in front of Scarlet and Revy, just in case Klinge had ill intentions. "For what?"

Klinge looked past Rat and at his lover. “What is your name and the child’s?”

“My name is Scarlet. This is our daughter, Revy.”

“You’re an Iron Knuckle, aren’t you? I saw your armour configuration.”

“How- how do you know that?”

“Because I’m Gerudo myself.” Klinge spoke dryly, turning his direction to Rat. “What occupation has Corsaire assigned her?”

"Smith. Blacksmith. She's to work with the Tablitha family who makes the queen's weapons." Rat told Klinge, still not too trusting, making sure to keep in-between Klinge and Scarlet. "She did so as a favor to me."

“Good. Additionally, she’ll hold another task. Effectively immediately, you work for me.”

Scarlet stepped back, holding Revy close. “To do what?”

“I have need of a powerful warrior like yourself in my ranks. Your training will be most beneficial being taught to new generations. And if you’re a smith, I can use your skills for my personal benefit.”

"She has a wee one, she ain't doing no training for rookies." Rat scowled. "And who's you to question the order of the queen?"

“Because I am the Supreme Commander of Hyrule. My word is the only word that concerns you. Because while Ganondorf is still King, Gerudo matters fall to me. Scarlet here is both an officer and Gerudo Warrior. Her knowledge is a treasure I can afford.” Klinge grasped a bag at his side and threw down a bag of five hundred rupees. “This amount. For every day you work for me.”

"Why should I want me lover around you?" Rat held Scarlet around her shoulders, still glaring at the man. "You may be the queen's bodyguard, but you's still give me the creepies. I sense death around you. What could convince me that you's ain't going to put her in danger?"

“My word can be changed at a will. The reason she shall not be put in danger is because she’s an asset to me and the kingdom.”

"An asset. A thing." Rat still did not believe Klinge. "... me's not so sure about you. Tis Scarlet's decision, but if she agrees, and gets hurt because of you, I'll drag your ass to the bottom of the black sea."

"It is a lot more money then I would have been making before Rat. It's more than enough for us and to help the girls at the lodge."

"It's more than enough to save for us, Scarlet. Revy needs a home, not a lodge or a room at an inn." Rat told his lover in earnest. "Maybe we can find something on the outskirts of town. It doesn't have to be huge, but it could be a place for us to grow, where Revy can grow up into a fine young lady. Safe."

"I don't want it to seem like I'm just abandoning my sisters."

"You aren't, Scarlet. Do you think Corsaire has abandoned me because we don't work together anymore? Don't see each other everyday?"

Klinge nodded. "Your sisters will be fine. So will you. Do we have a deal?"

Scarlet watched Klinge extend his hand. After a moment of thinking, she nodded, shaking his hand. "You have a deal."

Corsaire was waiting downstairs for Adda, when a shriek shook the house. He wasn't allowed to go up, but after ten minutes, Adda walked down to the waiting lounge. Wearing a skimpy corset that showed off the goods, she was fuming. "What kind of uniform is this?"

"Pffffftttt..." Corsaire had to turn around, trying to contain a laugh, failing to do so. "You know it's called the Farmer's Daughter for a reason, right? Hyrule women wear those fancy corsets."

"It's so goddamn small and tight!"

Other members of her crew gave her a thumbs up, heading to their own jobs. "Looking good Captain."

"Well, they think you look good, so I'd quit belly aching and let me escort you there before I have to head out to work me self." Corsaire put his hat on, the age-old same hat he had from when he met Orana. He refused to change it. "Come on, now, put on your big girl boots, and let's go."

Adda put on her own hat, taking his arm. "After you sweetheart."

"So, you're the newest addition, yeah? You'll do fine, I'll show you the ropes and Mikayah will show your sister." She held out her hand. "I'm Ellie. I'm the head waitress here and I usually do all the training. Since we're short-staffed, you're going to have to learn quick. Tonight, you're going to follow me, memorize the menus, and since I'm feeling generous, I'll let you take a fourth of the tips I make to get you some groceries."

"Work her hard, Ellie." Corsaire snickered as he bid farewell. "Save me some chowder if there's any leftover." "I doubt it, everyone loves Erling's chowder."

"I already started memorizing the menu, so that shouldn't be an issue."

"Great! So, now follow me, I'm going to show you where we get the food first." Ellie motioned for Adda to step quickly. "Our head chef is Big Bertie, our sous chef is Maxine, and we have Robert, Dean, Izzie, and Wayne as our line chefs. Number one rule in the kitchen is don't get in their way. Make yourself sparse in there, just come to the window to get the food." She grabbed a heavy tray full of food. "Watch a pro, and then you can try. Always serve from the guest's left side and oh! I almost forgot! Erling is our guest chef. Used to work here as a sous chef until the castle recruited him, but he comes back on weekend for extra money. Just be careful and don't spook the poor guy." She put the tray on her shoulder. "I still don't know how he does it. He's blind as a bat and still makes the best chowder on this side of the city." She yelled into the kitchen. "Erling!!! Save some chowder for that handsome admiral of yours!"

"How many times do I have to tell you? Tell him to come buy it!" Seer was there in the kitchen, adding ingredients to his famous clam chowder. "He's trying to freeload off you just cause you're cute."

"Yeah, yeah, like that will work. And thanks for the compliment, sweetie."

Adda eyes blinked in puzzlement for a moment, and her initial reaction betrayed her. "Seer?" Immediately, she regretted letting him know her presence.

"...? Adda?" Seer actually stopped stirring his homemade soup. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here now. I didn't know you would be working here too."

"I don't during the week, but I do on the weekends." Seer looked surprised. "You work here now? I thought you didn't want the job."

"Well, there is wants in this life. Then there are needs. This is a need to support my daughters."

"Let me guess. Corsaire didn't want you near his new ships, did he?"

"No. Even though my professional skill set is one a ship. Misogyny at work I tell you."

"More like he's a touch afraid you're going to make off with one and doesn't want Missy Orana's parents breathing down his neck since he literally stuck it out to give you ladies a chance---"

"Talk later, work now." Ellie pulled Adda with her. "Save Corsaire a bowl!"

"Fine, fine."

Adda turned her attention to some of the ladies at work, studying them intensely. Eye contact, correct posture, charming demeaner, listening skills, balance. She could do this. Waiting for her turn, she grabbed some menus and made her way forward with a charming smile. "Hello there. My name is Adda and I'll be your waiter today. How can I help you?"

Ellie was nearby, watching how Adda carried out her task. Good posture, polite smile, engaging conversation... seems like she did have the makings.

"We'll all require a class of water, and we'll take a bottle of your finest Chardonnay."

"Please bring it out on ice, we like it to stay chilled."

"Of course."

Adda did put the order up, waited for the Chardonnay, stuffed it in an ice bucket, and delivered it with the water. This was just like serving her officers not too long ago. "Here you are. These are our menus. I'll give you five minutes to look it over, then check on you. Enjoy your beverages in the mean time."

"Thank you, and when you're back by, we'd like another basket of the sourdough bread." As soon as Adda walked away, the merchants were speaking of how lovely she was... and how nice her ass was.

Talk about her ass was ok. A little embarrassing to be sure, but encouraging. As long as they didn't touch her. Adda put in the order for the bread and took her five minutes to examine the menus a little more and the layout of the tavern. Once she was ready, she thanked the chief and returned to the couple. Seeing the water was empty she refilled it with her jug. "Here is your bread. Any choices for a main course, or would you like some more time to consider?"

"We're all ready to order."

"I'll take the filet course."

"I'd like the fresh catch of the day."

"Clam chowder soup and salad."

The orders were placed and all of the business men handed Adda the menus. One was feeling a bit more so bold with the wine in his system. "I don't suppose I could treat you to a glass later?"

In the background, Ellie was making a slit throat motion, warning Adda not to accept. The guy was a known womanizer.

Adda took note of it, but decided to take advantage. "Depends on how well you tip. I can consider it." With a wink, she took their menus and filled out her menus with the cooks. "Clam chowder soup with a salad as well as one filet course!" She even surprised herself with how much control she felt.

Dinner was a crazy rush but at the end of the night, every table was satisfied and the tips were hefty. Counting out the rupees she made, Ellie then handed Adda a small bag. "Not bad for your first night. Here's 150 rupees." Ellie then groaned under her breath when she saw the lecher merchant. "... great. You got Yusfar waiting on you."

"What's your policy if one of the waitresses gets manhandled?"

"Remember the sign by the door?" Ellie pointed out the golden, plated plaque that so elegantly read: "You are free to look as much as you like, but remember if you try to touch, the ladies might 'touch' back."

"Got you."

Adda put her rupees in her pocket, grabbed her hat, and headed to the door. "Need me tomorrow?"

"You're scheduled for dinner on weekends, and for lunch Monday through Wednesday. You got Thursday and Friday off, unless you want an extra shift on the breakfast schedule."

"Nah. I like those shifts. Oy Seer. You done back there?"

"Yes, I'm done." Seer had just finished packing up a bowl of chowder for Corsaire and had a doggie bag to take with him. "You escorting me home?"

"Hell yeah. Think you can keep up?"

"Maybe not running, but definitely if you link arms with me." Seer then added. "Could give old pervie there the idea to back off."

Adda did so, smiling lightly at him. With Seer in her arms, she walked past Yusfar. "Order yourself a glass of water sweety."

"Hey, I paid for dinner, and you agreed to my company afterwards." Yusfar blocked the door. "Move along, cripple. You're wasted compassion."

Seer frowned at the man's insult. "At least I'm not a perverted asshole like you." Seer growled. "The lady doesn't want your company. Go away and mind your own business."

"I told you nothing but the truth. I'd consider it. I have, and I decided that perhaps we can do so another night. I'm walking my friend home now."

"You're coming with me now." Yusfar demanded of Adda. "I paid good money here and you owe it to me!"

"She doesn't owe you a damn thing, leave her al---" Seer had stepped in front of Adda to try to shield her from view, but ended up taking a punch to the nose, knocking him flat on his backside.

"I'm not a hooker." When the punch was thrown at Seer, Adda's charm and loose attitude was lost in an instant. Grabbing the man by crotch and throat, she drove Yusfar into the floor with a slam. Straddling him in his daze, she gripped him by the collar with her left hand, then wailed on him with her right fist. With ten solid, nose shattering punches she broke his nose, his jaw, and collapsed an eye shut. With the last punch, she shook the blood off, and felt his pulse. "Alive." Getting up, she grabbed him by his legs, and dragged him at the door. With a light kick she let him fall down the stairs to the tavern, and spat on his back as he wheezed a weak cry. "Prick." When she saw her co-workers both horrified and amazed, she shrugged it off. Seer was her concern. Gently patting his back, she smiled. "You ok?"

"Urgh..." Seer was dazed and bleeding heavily from his nose. He did not do very well when his senses were attacked. It was like the whole world shifted underneath his feet. "This is... the second time my nose is broken because of you." He said in a very dry, although slightly pained, voice.

"I'll make it up to you." Adda waved goodbye to her co-workers, picking Seer up bridal style and carrying him out. She even stepped on Yusfar to take him back to her lodging.

"You can put me down, you know, I can walk even though I can't see." Seer remarked in a sense of good humor.

"Naw. I think I like carrying you. Let's me flex my muscles." Adda finally got to the inn, smiling at the grounds keep. "Hey, can we bring men upstairs?"

"You're... not really supposed to." Ellie looked at Seer's bloody nose. "But I'll make an exception since he seems to be hurt. And blind." "I know. I can't see anything."

"I'm just going to patch him up." Adda took him to her room, setting Seer gently down on her bed. "How you feeling?"

"I feel like my nose is going to fall off, but considering I was just tossed around like a rag doll with that guy, a little embarrassed as well." Seer sighed. "I'm not very good at being a protector, am I?"

"Well, that's what I'm for." Adda twisted his nose in place with a nudge, getting a loud yelp from Seer. "Sorry."

Seer's blind eyes were watering from the pain, but he was trying to keep a straight face. "It really sucks not being able to see anymore."

"I'm sorry I can't do anything to fix that." Adda softly smoothed the side of his face, giving him a light kiss.

Even though the two of them had shared a bed before, Seer still blushed like a virgin. "Hrm... not sure if that really helped. Might need another one on this side too, just to be sure." He tapped the other cheek with a small grin.

Adda gave him a kiss on the other side. "You know, I'd love to have you stay the night, but I'm going to respect Saven’s rules."

"I understand." Seer felt around in his belt for his walking cane, unfolding it. "You'll be at work again tomorrow?"

"Yeah... Do you want me to come back to your place?"

"If you'd like." Seer then told her. "It's... not much. But it's cozy. I'm renting it for now. It's a house with rooms for all of us; Rat, Acrobat, and Bomba. Though, I believe they're all asleep now."

"Think we'd wake them up?"

"No, they have rooms on the top floor. I'm on the bottom." Seer chuckled. "Stairs and I do not get along well."

"Alright handsome. Let me check on the girls, then you can lead your knight in shining armour the way."

After making sure Liz and Lex were healthy and happy with some feeding, Adda followed Seer into his bedroom. Before he could really talk, she was already taking off his belt. "Can't suck on a bottle, but I can still suck on this~"

"W-Wait, wait, just a moment!" Seer was turning red once again in the face, gently grabbing Adda's hands. "I um... we don't have to do anything; I don't expect it. I mean... I'm just... well, surprised."

"Why? I like you. Do you just want to cuddle up naked or something? That's the slowest I can go."

"No! I mean, yes, I mean... damn it." Seer rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess what I'm trying to ask is... I'm just not sure I understand why you're interested in me."

"Because you're adorable, handsome... and kind. And I don't come from a world of kindness, so you're special to me." Adda slowly fumbled her fingers with his.

"I'm not adorable... am I?" Seer pouted lightly, thinking this meant he was too sweet or too weak one. Yet, it still did not scare Adda off yet. "I don't like being mean. I don't want to be mean unless I have to. I... initially thought you only bedded me because of pity, but... I couldn't stop thinking about how good you smelled. How soft you felt."

"I smell good?" That unique comment made Adda blush incredibly hard. "I'm... soft?"

"You smell like a touch of brimstone mixed with salt and lavender. It might just be your shampoo or your perfume with the lavender tent, but... the smell of salt, of sea salt, it's different. Not like the usual smell, but that of the ocean. It's comforting." Seer explained and then admitted. "Yes, soft. Not like you don't have muscle, but soft as in tender hearted it seems, when you want to be."

"I don't want to lose that smell." Adda pressed her head against his chest. "I feel comfortable with you Seer... truth be told, I'm scared to be. I don't want to be hurt again."

"I... don't want to hurt you." Seer carefully put his arms around Adda to hug her. "I know what it is like to be hurt. Physically, mentally, emotionally... take your pick. I don't wish it on someone else. You're safe here."

Adda hugged him back, not wanting to let go. "No one ever hugs me."

"Then just let me hold you for a minute."

Adda did so, trying not to cry. She just let him hold her for five minutes in silence. When he let go, Adda cleared her throat, trying to bring back her usual bravado, but instead only bringing back a quarter of it. "So stud, I was thinking about going on a sex bender, but, um, if you decide to stop bedding all the woman you obviously bring over every night, I'll do the same. That way, we can just be a couple with you as my boyfriend, and I'll be your girlfriend?"

"You know, you don't have to put on the face of bravado around me constantly, Adda." Seer chuckled softly, gently running his fingers through her hair. His calloused fingers were marked with several scars from accidently cutting or burning himself over the years. "I've... never had a romantic interest before, so I apologize in advance if I let you down. Though, if you want me to stay around, I won't object to your company."

"Tell you what, if you stay around long enough, I'll decide to drop my guard. A bit." With a grin, she kissed his cheek again. "Do you want to cuddle? Or do you want something more?"

"I'll leave that up to you." Seer told Adda. "It sounds like you had a long day and... you need a bit of comfort."

"Then just hold me naked?"

"Sure, but... do you need to check on the twins first?"

"Freddy has them on babysitting duty for the night. I think they'll be ok." Seer felt the warm press of her now naked body against him. She must have been very quiet in getting undressed. “I like how concerned you are about my girls.”

"If you're sure." Seer patted his bed. "Go ahead and get comfortable. I'll undress."

Outside, having happen stance to walk by, Scarlet was fangirling over the fact that Adda was warming up in a positive manner to Seer. Pulling Rat to the side to whisper her joy; her face was beaming. "Mousa! They're going to be a couple! They look so sweet together!"

"Me doesn't know what to think, Scarlet." Rat seemed a touch hesitant. Seer was a kind soul and he did not want his brother being a doormat for Adda. The ex-gladiator said, "As long as Seer is happy, and as long as Adda isn't mean to him, then I's content."

“Good. That’s all I can hope for. Mark my words. We’re all going to have happier lives.”

________________________________________________________________

New AU with @ridersoftheapocalypse! Comments are amazing to have!

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/633413002943758336/band-of-pirates-ch-2-game-plan

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/633791750679527424/band-of-pirates-ch-4-a-smiths-work

#AU #crossover #ridersoftheapocalypse #Captain Adda #Corsaire #Seer #Rat #Scarlet #Klinge

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dylinski · 5 years

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Trick or Treat

Request/Prompt: Anon - Hey , i have two Halloween prompt ideas . 1/ Reader and Stiles are trapped in a haunted house . 2/ Reader is going to a Halloween party , Posting a Pic of her sexy costume , Derek seeing that,decide to go there to tell her how He feels . Hope youre gonna Like it

Warnings: make out, light smut?, possessive, mild language, angst (because we all know i can’t write something without it)

Relationships: Derek Hale/Reader

Word Count: 2067

Author: @dylan-obrien-fanblog

A/N: part two of a double request from anon. this is the first non-dylan fic i’ve written, so sorry if it’s trash (like most of my trash 😅) hope it’s what you wanted. and still working on part one.

Trick or Treat

You couldn’t believe how sexy you felt in the Halloween costume you were wearing. Being friends with Stilinski had its benefits, and he was sneaky enough to get you a deputy’s outfit from the station. You made some modifications of course. You replaced the pants with a black skirt that clung to your ass, barely covering it. You wore the shirt, but had the bottom half tied in a knot, showing your stomach. Most of the buttons were undone, showing your cleavage. Stiles even managed to get you a utility belt with everything but the gun. You slipped on your heels, making you 6 inches taller, then took a mirror selfie. You posted the picture on Instagram, only to antagonize a single person. You have had the biggest crush on Derek Hale for the last year, but he wasn’t one to show or even see emotion. You flirted with him, but he seemed impervious. You had begged him to come with you to the party, but he rolled his eyes and told you no. You really wanted to spend time with him, but honestly you wanted him to see you in your outfit. This was the first time you had ever worn something like that. Well, if he wasn’t going to be therein person, he can see what he’s missing.

Lydia texted you as you posted the picture, letting you know she had just arrived to pick you up. You grabbed your bag, took one last look in the mirror to make sure everything looked good, then headed outside to meet her. When Lyds saw you, her jaw dropped. “Daaaaaaaamn girl!” She howled as you opened the door. You couldn’t help but blush as you thanked her, sliding into the seat as best you could with the short skirt. Lydia turned on some dance music, pumping you both up for the party. When you arrived she made you take a selfie with her, both of you making kissy faces at the camera. She took a couple others, both of you making cute and sexy expressions. When you entered the party it was already flooded with bodies, moving to the beat of the music. All your confidence suddenly melted away and you felt doubt seep in as you found yourself lost in the sea of people. Being alone in your room, wearing this outfit, was one thing, but in front of a hundred people was something else. Hopefully, once you got some liquid courage in you, you’d be fine. You headed to where they were serving the alcohol with Lydia.

After a couple drinks, both of you felt relaxed and let the night take over as you danced to the pounding of the speakers. Lydia kept taking pictures of you and the other people you had just met. She liked to ‘document’ everything and was always posting online. Typically you would be against this, but you were too drunk to care. “Hey! Lydia! I’m gonna her another drink!” You shouted over the blaring noise, but she didn’t hear you. You could barely hear yourself. Unsure of what you said, she still nodded. You headed to the bar when strong hands grabbed you from behind by your hips. They pulled you tight, crashing you into a muscular body and almost tumbling you to the floor, but their grip kept you upright. “What the..?” You mumbled under your breath. The lights were flashing and there were too many bodies, making it difficult to make out who it was. The blurry vision didn’t help either. The hands were now holding your arms and pulling you through the crowd. “Ow. You’re hurting me.” Your arm was starting to throb where the grip was, signaling your brain of the pain.

You were pulled through a door that led into an alley. The cold brisk midnight air raised goosebumps on your skin, clashing against the warmth and heat of the party. “Let go of me!” You shouted as you yanked your arm from the hand as it’s tightness loosened. The hands grabbed your shoulders and pulled you to face a familiar and grumpy face. “Aww. You’re grumpy. You’re cute when you’re mad.” Your antagonizing only made him furrow his thick brows deeper, almost cementing them into a single brow.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He growled at you through his teeth, eyes watching you fiercely as he held you in place.

“I’m partying. At the party.” If it weren’t for Derek’s arms holding you up, you thought you might keel over. You were seeing double and starting to feel sick. Your eyes widened as you felt your stomach churning. Derek’s face immediately relaxed and changed to worry. Thankfully, his quick reflexes were able to bring you over to the wall before you puked on him. You held your weight against the wall as he held your hair and rubbed your back up and down. Oh God. That’s when it hit you. Sobering up, you realized you looked like a complete mess. No, you were a complete mess and it was all on display for Derek to see. Your makeup was smeared and created dark circles around your eyes. You were pale and clammy from throwing up and feeling just as bad as you looked didn’t help.

You turned, leaning your back against the wall as Derek gave you a sympathetic half smile. He offered you a piece of gum that you took graciously, still irritated by his empathetic expression. “What?” He just shrugged and crossed his arms across his toned chest, causing his biceps to flex. Thankfully you were already flushed. “Don’t look at me like that!”

“Like what, Y/N?”

“Like I look the same as I feel.” You couldn’t look him in the eyes for more than a couple seconds at a time, embarrassed by your current state.

“And how do you feel?” His question was antagonizing and almost sarcastic. You show him a hard look, shooting daggers at him. You quickly looked back down to the ground, counting the pebbles to distract you as you answered.

“Like shit.” Derek walked to you blocking you in between him and the wall, his hands resting on your arms.

“You don’t look like shit.” His voice was soft and his look genuine, something you had never seen him wear before. You cocked your head to the side with intrigue until his words registered and red rushed to your cheeks.

“Thanks.” You were breathless as he inched in closer, causing you to inch back, his body almost pinning you to the wall now. “Um. Derek?”

“Yeah?” He breathed, his air hitting your lips as he spoke, your faces only inches apart.

“Why...why are you here?” Your question triggered something in the man. He immediately released his hands and took multiple steps back, putting a good three feet between the two of you. You stayed, leaning against the wall, afraid to move.

“I saw the pictures.” He looked at the ground when he answered. His voice was hard and deep, almost like he was ashamed of his words.

“Pictures?” You stepped forward, pushing off the wall, but he mimicked the movement, stepping back. His arms were crossed and his eyebrows pulled together, wearing his never changing brooding expression. He refused to look at you. You took another step towards him. He flinched, but didn’t move this time. You took a few more steps until you could place your palm on his cheek. He turned his head away, but didn’t fight your touch. Your fingers trailed down to his chin, moving it so you could see his eyes. His face may have been contorted and full of anger, but his eyes were sad. “Derek, what is it?”

He stepped back, pulling from your grasp as he threw his hands up, bursting with fury. “You can’t just do that!” Confusion covered your face as you looked at him like he was ranting and raving over nothing. What had you done to him? If anything, you should be complaining about him. In response to your expression, he widened his eyes and jerked his head as he threw his hands up in your direction. “You! This! You can’t just wear something like that! Especially where everyone can see!”

“Excuse me?” Your confusion turned to rage. Who the hell did he think he was, telling you what you can and can’t wear? “What gives you the right to say something like that? You can’t just come here out of the blue after I asked you to, and you said no by the way, then tell me I'm ‘not allowed to wear this’.” He didn’t appreciate the quotation marks, evident by his scoff. “Look, I’m not one of your little werewolves, okay? You’re not my alpha. I’m my own goddamn alpha!” You shoved his shoulder, furious at him now. How dare he treat you like some sort of property. He gritted his teeth, his jaw hurting out behind his tight lips.

When he didn’t say anything, you pushed him again, and harder, causing him to shift his balance. He glared at you and without hesitation pushed you back up to the wall, caging you in with his arms. His hot breath panting and washing over your face. Terror flooded you and Derek saw. He dropped his arms to his side and looked disappointed in himself. “It’s not like that.” His voice was soft again. “I don’t want you dressing like this because I don’t want...I don’t want other guys looking at you.” You couldn’t help but open your mouth in shock. What was he saying? Did he mean what you thought he meant? Was he trying to tell you he-

Your thoughts were cut off when he pressed his lips to yours, taking advantage of them being parted and pushing his tongue past without hesitation. You pushed back against the wall, railing yourself up on your toes. He pulled his lips back, your foreheads still connected, and you both gasped for breath. You stared at his lips, processing what just happened. After only a couple seconds, you grabbed his face with both hands, pulling his lips back to yours in a deep kiss. Your mouths were open wide, teeth clashing and tongues swirling as you wanted as much of him as you could get. He cupped his hands at the top of your thighs and pulled up, prompting you to jump as you wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

He pushed you against the wall as his lips moved from yours down your jawline until they met your neck. This summoned a moan as he nipped and sucked at the skin, erupting a growl from him. His hand slid up your skirt, gripping your ass tight. You could feel the fire building inside you, craving every inch of him, but you dropped to your feet. He looked at you in confusion. “Not here.” All you could manage was a whisper from your dry throat, panting for breath as your desire raged inside. “Believe me, I want nothing more than to jump your bones right here and now, but I doubt our first time together should be in the middle of an alley...next to my puke.” He laughed and nodded in agreement.

He grabbed your wrist with deep dark eyes, full of lust and pulled you to his SUV. Thank God he only lived 10 minutes away. As you got into the car, you went to buckle your seat-belt. “Oh. You think we’re waiting to get back to the loft?” His words were menacing and hungry. He leaned over and kissed you again, holding your cheek in his hand, picking up where you left off in the alley. You were rudely interrupted by some drunk college kids cackling outside the club a couple feet away, oblivious to the two of you. It was still annoying though. You shot Derek a look and he didn’t seem to care they were there.

“Just drive you idiot.” He laughed and turned over the engine, taking you back to the loft to finish what he had started. He took your hand, squeezing as he drove, you squeezed back and gave him a smile. “Trick or treat?” He looked at you with his wolf eyes, red and full of fire as he smiled devilishly at your question.

“Treat.”

#derek hale #derek hale x reader #halloween #trick or treat #my writing

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annelixa · 4 years

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Trust Chapter 22

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Can also be read on AO3

Summary: Cassandra seeks Varian shortly after she stole the Moonstone so that she can use his intellectual gifts. Lucky for her, no one seems to be telling him what happened at the Dark Kingdom and he still sees her as the wise and trusted person he always knew. Utilizing that image of herself, she takes him for herself while under the guise of protection.

Fandom: Tangled the Series

Quirin was wrapped up in Rapunzel’s hair, snarling as he fought to escape. Taking the opportunity, Cassandra struck him with the Shadowblade. Since he was Varian’s father, she didn’t want to seriously harm him but he had to be stopped. None of them were confident about what was causing the pair to swear destruction on Corona, but they had to find out and help them remember who they were.

The blow knocked him across the room and he slammed into a wall. Dazed, he swayed as he rose to his feet and charged at the women again. Not backing down, the warrior swung at him once more, catching him in the side. Blood spilled down his shirt and he yelled in anger. Rapunzel wrapped his hair around his ankles, sending him crashing to the floor. Dizzy and losing blood, he fell easily. He didn’t get up again as he smashed his head into the hard marble floor, knocking him unconscious.

Not wasting a moment, the pair turned to the other mesmerized man in the room. Stalking forward, the Dark King backed Eugene into a corner. The man tried to think quickly, the man before him was an incredibly skilled fighter, having done little else with his time for over two decades. Not to mention, he was also his father, if he believed the somewhat insane, old man. He would need to be smart and careful to attack him without hurting himself or his father. A crash caused them all to jump and turn to see the arms of a massive automaton had destroyed the wall into the throne room. Spotting an opening, the captain swung his sword at his father’s chest and ducked around him as he stumbled away.

“Run!” he shouted, the other two quickly following him out of the room. They dashed to the nearby library which was still intact. Shoving his sword through the door handles, Eugene collapsed the thick, oak doors as he panted. “We…we need a plan…”

The princess dropped into a chair, trying to think as she caught her breath. Around them, the castle continued to shake and chunks of stone fell as the automaton's arms continued smashing into the walls. Taking a position by the window, Cassandra tried to assess the situation. From her vantage point, she could see Adira and Hector viciously attacking any that attempted to enter or exit the castle. They would not be able to go that way unless they wanted another fight that they would be outmatched in; the two vastly skilled fighters. Dozens of unfamiliar people were attacking the citizens of Corona. Blood and bodies littered the courtyard from what she could see between the smoke released from Varian’s chemical compounds. A face she easily recognized caught her attention as it hurried away from the battle.

“Andrew,” she growled under her breath. The traitor crawled into the automaton that was obliterating the castle around them. “We need to get into that machine,” she declared, facing the pair. “Varian made it and if he was anywhere, it would be inside that monstrosity. My mentor would want him protected and in a position where he can maintain that beast.”

Joining the warrior, Rapunzel gently touched her arm.

“You didn’t tell us who your mentor was,” she whispered. “It would be helpful to know who it is and how to defeat them.”

With a sigh, Cassandra met the blonde’s eyes. She didn’t want to tell her the harsh truth that she had been avoiding herself.

“I don’t actually know,” the warrior admitted. “She never told me her name and no one else could see her. She was the one who informed me of my ‘destiny’ and led me toward it.” She scoffed and looked back out the window, avoiding the eyes of the other two. “We didn’t agree in the end. She didn’t approve of how I was treating Varian.”

Worried, Rapunzel’s grip tightened on her arm.

“Cass, please tell me you didn’t hurt him…”

“I didn’t touch him.” Worry lifted from the princess’ heart for only a moment. “But Andrew did…” A hard look entered her eyes. “I paid him back for that.” She shook her head. “That doesn’t matter now. We need to get to Varian and stop all this.”

“But how?”

“I’ll create a distraction,” Eugene called, drawing the attention of the women. “You get in there and get Goggles back.” Crossing to his side, Rapunzel hugged her boyfriend tightly. “Go get him, Sunshine.” He pulled back, meeting her eyes and cupping her cheek. “And if he’s hurt, give them hell.”

Rapunzel smiled at him and kissed his cheek before he retrieved his sword and ran back into the battle. Using his sacrifice, Cassandra grabbed a decorative lance from a nearby suit of armor as the pair darted back toward the throne room. Leaping into the air, the warrior jammed the lance into the automaton’s arm and used it to propel herself onto the back of the great machine. Moments later Rapunzel landed lightly beside her and they approached a small hatch. Pulling it open, Cassandra dropped down first. Not seeing anyone, she signaled the other could join her. The pair peered through the darkness. They knew Andrew at least was inside but they didn’t spot him anywhere so they headed toward the controls at the front of the machine.

“I’m glad you decided to return, Cassandra,” a voice called, making both jump in surprise. “I knew you would rejoin the correct side.”

Clenching her fists, the warrior fought the urge to listen obediently.

“Where’s Varian?” she demanded instead, watching her mentor step forward. “We came here for him!”

“You sound like the Sundrop,” the girl replied, rolling her eyes. “Didn’t she say the exact same thing to you twice before yet still left empty handed both times?”

“I’m not leaving without him! Nothing will stop me!”

Shocked, Cassandra turned to her.

“You can see her?”

No one else had been able to see her before, only Cassandra. Why could Rapunzel see her now? What was going on?

“Well of course she can, Cassandra. She helped me regain my physical form. You both did actually.” Noticing their confusion, she smiled. “Your fight back at the tower,” she explained. “It released me and allowed me to return to this world so I can destroy Corona.”

“Who…who are you…?” the warrior asked, wary of the answer.

“You should already know that by now. You have met many of my previous disciples after all.”

Gasping, the woman stumbled away from her. How had she not noticed? How could she have let a demon control her?

“Zhan Tiri…” she whispered, eyes wide and fearful.

The other woman wasn’t swayed, her worry for Varian’s safety outweighed her terror of the demon in front of her.

“Where’s Varian?” She repeated the warrior’s question.

“Why, Sundrop, he’s been right here the entire time.”

Grinning, she yanked a cloth off of a lump in the corner revealing a beaten and bloody alchemist. The chain around his neck seemed to be the only thing keeping him upright as he tried to determine where exactly the voices were coming. His eyes and mouth were still covered with the scraps of cloth, keeping from joining the conversation.

“Varian!” both women cried, moving toward him. “Release him!”

The sheet was tossed to the floor, the demon uncaring about where it landed.

“Why ever would I do that?” she asked, curious. “He had a great time working for Cassandra and myself, Rapunzel. You know that he can’t stay away from evil. He’s a villain. He is drawn to chaos and confusion. He craves it, the challenge, the power. We simply let him have it.”

Varian tried to defend himself, muffled yells echoing around the room.

“If he was so willing, so eager to help you, then why is he chained now? He should be out, fighting against me himself.” The princess stepped closer, reaching out to the demon. “This isn’t his battle. Let us take him home. Please, Zhan Tiri.”

The demon laughed loudly, wiping her eyes with a gloved hand.

“Not his battle? Sundrop, have you even seen the glorious war that is waging outside this machine? Have you even noticed who made the very machine you are currently standing in? Your dear alchemist crafted all the weapons that are being used against your citizens at this very moment! He became a key part of this war months ago when he started creating these weapons believing they were for you!” Ashamed of himself, Varian shouted his apologies but they were too stifled to be understood by either of his would be rescuers. Clucking sympathetically, the demon ran her knuckle down his ruined cheek which he pulled away from violently. The action caused a weak whimper to escape his mouth and the two women seethed. “I know, sweet boy. Your friends lied to you and used you so you had no choice, did you?” Her tone was honeyed and quiet, but it only made the other inhabitants more uncomfortable. The alchemist whimpered again and anger bubbled in the stomachs of both Cassandra and Rapunzel. “You only did what you thought was right but once again, your good deeds caused people to get hurt.”

The cloth around his eyes grew wet as he began to cry, choking on the identical strip covering his mouth.

“Take that off of him!” Rapunzel yelled, fury at the demon and terror for her friend battling in her chest. “He can’t breathe!”

Reaching forward, the demon pulled the cloth loose and allowed it to fall onto the rock collar around his neck. Finally realizing what it was, the rage the princess was barely containing spilled over.

“How dare you put that on him?! Remove it this instant!”

The demon wasn’t fazed.

“Sorry, Sundrop. I didn’t collar him.” She grinned again, a cruel reminder of her true nature. “Your dear friend Cassandra did.”

Shocked, she turned to the woman who had joined her to save the boy.

“Cass! How could you?!”

Fumbling to explain herself, she forced out, “I only put it on for his safety! I was going to take it off but he was taken before I could!”

A scream interrupted Rapunzel’s reply and glancing at Varian she realized it came from him. Fresh blood was running down his face from three deep scratches extending from the gash on his cheek. Standing at his side, uninjured hand harshly squeezing his shoulder was a man they both recognized.

“Hello ladies.”

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tatiletotesamaze · 4 years

Text

Don’t @ me.

I touched very briefly on the need for a virtue system a while ago, a brief summary being 'societies exist as a natural part of the species, societies need a level of trust to function'. In that post I talked about ethics within a social contract, and I might well have actually been pointing myself toward contractarianism without knowing the word for it, however these are typically deontological systems and the Empire strikes me as more likely to really adhere to a rule consequentialist system (the consequence being what's best for the Empire, not really Bentham's utility). But, as we've seen with popular criticisms of (negative) utilitarianism it's better if there's something else to go along with it. Deontology, consequentialism, and virtue ethics should hang out more.

In part what I felt needed to be reconciled is the Sith ideology and the needs of a society to function. This is approached in the community-centric, self-centric post. One of the key interpretations of the Sith Code is 'might makes right' (and while one might take a more charitable interpretation, like those for the Will to Power, the Empire as a whole does not leave itself open to charitable interpretations) and this, as one can imagine, does not necessarily sit well with the necessity of Law and Order within any functioning society, much less one quite so hell bent on law and order as the Empire. Its law and its order true but law and order none-the-less.

And while it might be nice to have a unifying moral system for the Empire, I don't think it really needs one and, perhaps, having such a core aspect of a society and culture being fundamentally split better reflects the fractious nature of the Empire as a whole. (Funny aside I keep typing 'empure'.) So, what are the virtues for and to whom do they apply? I did write out a class structure but this is not the division we'll be examining. This is a "one for mine, one for thine" system. That is, there is one moral system for the Sith, based around (an interpretation of) The Sith Code and another moral system for... everyone else. For brevity we'll call them Citizens.

Virtues of the Citizen: Pride (in the empire and ones achievements) Courage Wisdom Temperance of action and feeling (self discipline) Orderliness *at once keeping stuff in order, but also understanding one's place in the Empire Excellence *the best me and the best I can do makes the empire better as a whole or the best I can do for the empire is the best me cleanliness *don't smell Unity *not necessarily friendliness, but not rocking the boat as it were "In all one's actions and duties to uphold the standards of the Empire” Timely - to know when best to be serious and to be jovial. Also, be on fucking time Respectfulness Charity toward children

Pride is important because one cannot uphold the Empire without being proud of it. Pride in this case acts as a kind of patriotism. It is not just believing that the Empire can be good, but that the Empire is good. That its actions are just and reasonable, for the progress and existence of itself, and because it is good and just and reasonable, everyone should partake in it. That's the kind of pride that is the "ideal" within the Empire: a heart-warming, chest-swelling belief that This Is Correct. It goes into the everyday as well, to the idea that "In all one's actions and duties uphold the standards of the Empire". To have pride in one's work and place within the Empire is to do your job well and to do it the best of your ability and push it further. Pride feeds into the concept of excellence: the best "me" and the best I can do makes the Empire better as a whole, or the best I can do for the Empire is the best "me". Alternatively, if one is ashamed of the Empire, one is at odds with the Empire, because the Empire is the embodiment of itself - it is the best at being what it is and it continually gets better at being itself by perfecting the aspects of it and refining them: getting rid of the chaff and the fat, all the unnecessary things, like the detractors, those who might call for a reining in of military spending or border expansion. Because if the Empire is the best (and it is) it is just that everyone should be part of the Empire or removed.

Courage is needed within the Empire and its Citizens for a multitude of reasons, but primarily it's perceived to be necessary within the context of the military, both in offensive actions and in defence of the Empire and its territories. To add some context, if we consider Aristotle's approach to virtues, he holds (held?) that practising one in excess or being deficient in it results in "a sin". With regard to courage specifically (being a classical virtue he did actually talk about this one specifically), courage in excess becomes 'rashness' and in deficiency 'cowardice', courage itself is the mean. With this in mind, courage as encouraged by the Empire - not explicitly but more implicitly within the culture and what is celebrated in literature - is a lot closer to rashness than one might expect. Risk-reward calculation errs toward the greater reward (hinging on it the reward being useful or progressive for the Empire), often regardless of the risk. As a result promotion will favour those who achieve these rewards. Longevity always favours those who can reduce the risks.

Wisdom should be fairly straightforward: it covers both lived experience and knowledge from a robust and continuous education. It is needed to temper courage to not become abject recklessness.

Temperance in this case is not merely the control of physical appetites and impulses but more generally the control of one's emotions. This in a way is an inheritance from the Sith. A Citizen will not be led about by anger or jealousy, nor will they wallow in regret or sadness (terms and conditions may apply). Of course, as it does derive itself from the Sith, it might be more apt to say that one ought not show one's emotions in a way that might cast one in a negative light. Ideally you'd be a master of your emotions, in reality much like the Sith these are fuel. Anger or jealousy can be used to drive one to excel against a rival. In practice that might be too hard and instead you undermine them and have them stationed somewhere awful, like Balmorra. It shares a domain with Timeliness - when it is best to show emotion, or what emotion it is best to show.

Orderliness and unity share aspects. Unity is at once getting along with one's fellows as well as being mentally and spiritually in check with the Empire. In part this stems from the order of the Empire - yes "class movement" is possible* but one should excel in and understand one's place first. There is also the concept of not "rocking the boat" as it were. Back to the concept of the Empire as a meritocracy, if someone is above you in the hierarchy it is just (they are more "Imperial" than you) and to go against them is to go against the set order. As you can probably well imagine this does lend itself to horrible abuses of power. One of the other interpretations of order in a more general sense is the rigid class system and the duty to uphold it. *actual results may vary

The ideal Citizen not only embodies each of these virtues, they excel in them and push themselves, and by extension the Empire, to greater heights. Fundamentally the perfect execution of all virtues of the Citizens is not possible as they are opposed to each with regard to how they are represented in Imperial culture.

Virtues of the Sith: Cunning Wisdom Living authentically (the existential ideal), you will often see this as self-actualization. Being able to make decisions for oneself without necessarily being bound to the wills and needs of others. Strength Will to power Justice (upholding Imperial laws and ideals) Magnificence

Cunning is, naturally, the purview of the Sith. To live within such a cut-throat environment as the halls of Sith academia, politics, or even administration, is to deal with other Sith and their own ends. In conjunction with other aspects such as strength and the previously mentioned interpretations of the 'will to power', means are used to achieve those ends, and those means are likely to be other people who can be bent to a Sith's will, including other Sith. So cunning is not only the ability to twist and connive through the Sith interactions and through the necessity that is Imperial bureaucracy, but to see when others are doing the same; to predict their ends and what means they will use to achieve them. Cunning here is not merely the conventional definition but is also quick witted-ness and having a keen mind. Sometimes deceit is not conducive to progress so you can't always rely on it. Sometimes honesty is best. If you can tell the truth and get one over on someone who is lying better than if you yourself were lying, tell the truth. The Empire does have the idea that the truth will out, so if the truth is already out it shouldn't be used to harm you.

Wisdom, of course, is needed for cunning to be useful. It also lays out the boundaries of one's experiences and one's abilities. A wise and cunning Sith can best one who is merely strong in the Force. There are plays and operas about this very premise, as it becomes a greater strength. Sith are also learned in far more spheres than Imperial Civilians. They have a greater access to literature, including philosophy and politics. A high-born Sith will have - if they so choose - a full education in philosophy and politics. Certain Imperial Civilians may also be educated in such matters but this is generally more restricted, either in subject matter, breadth, and depth or simply who is permitted to learn such matters (hint: not the lower classes, they might learn something).

Living authentically isn't so much a virtue as it is its own philosophy. Put very simply, authenticity is making decisions - both moral and social - that reflect one's own true self rather than decisions based (solely) on external influences or structures. It does base itself on the principle of knowing oneself, though in order to discover it you kind of have to start living authentically. Like devoting entire evenings to writing out essays on hypothetical ethics structures for fictional societies that aren't even yours. In the case of the Sith, this is again an example of their freedom and their place within Imperial society. However, if we take the lists to be in descending order of importance, it again ranks above

Strength, in that if you can't make your own decisions, or be true to yourself, or truly know yourself or be aware of your own true self, you won't have true strength in the view of the Sith. Cunning and wisdom feed into living the authentic life for the Sith, as they are methods by which this authenticity can be achieved, for - make no mistake - if your authenticity expresses or comes across as weakness, then other Sith will take advantage of that. Social standing within Sith society is limited and is only doled out to a few. It is by necessity a measure of co-operation, the Empire and Sith religion wouldn't persevere otherwise, but that cooperation can be, and is, strained. Which brings us to Strength. This is not simply physical power or the connection to the Force, though those are the most obvious and fastest routes to power and strength, but internal strength. Resilience of the mind and body to attacks both internal and external.

Justice is a lot of things to a lot of people. We talk of restorative or retributive justice in a legal or social sense but in a way all of our ideas of justice are inextricably linked to some sort of moral or ethical idea or ideal we have. Or maybe they aren't. Either way Sith are generally expected to deal in retributive justice when called upon to do so; both in determining the crime and enacting the sentence, they are beholden to the Imperial standard and Code of Conduct, and that does sometimes lead to lightsabers in chests. However part of the expectation is that they would defer to the Sphere of Law and Justice unless circumstances make swift action necessary. Of course this is the legal aspect of it, which is arguably separate from the ethical aspect of justice. If we take Plato's interpretation of what it is to be just, if a Sith acts in accordance with all their prescribed virtues (being that the virtues are inherently 'good' by Sith culture because they lead to the Best Sith and the Best Sith are Good Sith), then justice should arise naturally out of their actions, but the basis of that logic seemed kind of shaky to me, so this is where we will actually call in Contractarianism to an extent. Coupling the (presumed) Imperial codices of law - which is arguably a codified version of the Imperial Consequentialist ethical system, rule consequentialism - with Imperial Consequentialism and ideas such as disinterestedness and impartiality (similar but not quite the same) which we put together to come up with a rudimentary concept of fairness; if a Sith can act in such a way that is in harmony with those ideas, to the pursuit of the Good of the Empire (and the Sith, plural), then that is what we can call justice in the sense of a Sith virtue. We are not necessarily dealing with universal truths here but something more subjective for the purposes of this exercise.

Magnificence. Be bitchin' at all times.

The Sith might also be expected to perform the virtues of the citizens listed above, particularly those of being timely, orderly and clean. When in the presence of Sith of higher standing, or of Citizens of high standing particularly those of the military or intelligence, then such actions will also be expected. Temperance (self discipline) - the Sith rule and control their emotions. Though one might become powerful through unbridled rage, one might lose oneself to it and lose one's mental faculties including (ironically) the will to power, making one un-Sith-like.

As the people and the Empire are seen as being one-in-the-same ('people' here referring to all who live under the Empire (slaves excluded unless they've up-moved) but generally Citizens see themselves as being more the Empire than the Sith, this expanded below), anything that is perceived as being good for the Empire is good for the people and vice versa.

And, above all of these is a single virtue of paramount import: Loyalty to the Empire. As ever, these virtues are not to be practised in excess nor be shied from. Life in the Empire is a balancing act.

In addition to the aforementioned class structure, there are three Classes (four if we count slaves): The Sith, Citizens and de facto citizens. Citizens, which one could class all as for they all live within the Empire, but Citizens are those who are born to Imperial families, typically within core Imperial worlds. They have the force of longevity behind them, their presence and purpose within the Empire is inherent. They have the tried and true Imperial education, in mathematics, warfare, literature, and the sciences. They all hold in some form a military position. A teacher can be called upon to fire a gun, as a baker can be expected to fix a tank. Full time military service is performed by all citizens for four years, and after that they either continue within the military system or return to perform other vital roles within the Empire.

De facto citizens are those living on planets the Empire has conquered, by war or through the Treaty of Coruscant. Formal expectations of them are the same, however Citizens oft treat them not necessarily with contempt but not with high expectations. Citizens see their lack of Imperial education (something being rectified but sorely lacking in the adult generations) as a fault that prevents them from performing the best they can for the Empire (see the virtues). This disregard for their own experiences, talents, and cultures does, to put it mildly, chafe the De Facto citizens.

The Sith, of course.

---

If we posit that each Citizen is a microcosm of the Empire, this being an extension of the idea "Where there is an Imperial, there is the Empire", any imbalance of the above can be perceived as a reflection to what imbalance in society would be. And a society which is fundamentally unbalanced is an "unhealthy" one, so an unhealthy society is an unbalanced one. By the logic of this metaphor, an unbalanced (in terms of virtues and vices) Imperial is an unhealthy one, and an unhealthy Imperial is an unbalanced one. Now, on a meta level this is awful logic. In world it's also awful logic, it barely tracks even without external factors, it falls into one of the early fallacies that if A predicates B, A must equal B and therefore B=A. It kind of feels true, so there's an inclination to accept it as true (I like to call this the aesthetic of reason) without thinking too hard about it. The nice thing about the fiction I'm building here is the feelings don't have to care about the facts, so the general society of the Empire can take this poor logical statement as written and as a result not have to think too hard about why someone might not fit in with the system, or be at odds with it, or even why their physical or mental health is not ideal. It's because they're "bad Imperials". The crisis of faith experienced by a soldier who's seen their friends and comrades killed in a meat grinder on some bass-ackwards planet for barely any reward because of some higher-up's bruised ego isn't because there's something inherently wrong with the Empire, there must be something inherently wrong with the soldier because they can't grasp why the bass-ackwards planet and the higher-up's ego are more important to the Empire than the lives of their friends and comrades, because it is the duty of the Citizen to be the Empire and to defend the Empire. If you can't defend the Empire you can't be the Empire. The sacrifices are great because the gains are great. And all sacrifices are for the gains of the Empire. So yes if we take the microcosm metaphor at the beginning of this passage and bring it here, to this conclusion, you have a constant sacrifice of the Empire for itself, or more realistically with the example given, the sacrifice of the Empire for some middle manager's power trip. From there I can segue sharply into how the Sith are at the forefront of the cultural schism because of their infighting and how their own virtue system and Code put them at odds with the Empire at large and the idea of Citizens specifically. We can look at Force Sensitivity as something like a divine right in politics. The Emperor is a Sith, the entire Dark Council are Sith. We have the elevation of power and ability via a meritocracy (power is merit) and, in a way, the connection of the Force, to the universe, to the individual, is as if to have a fundamental connection to the universe or to a higher plane of existence, however you want to look at it. Couple this right to rule with a driving need to not be seen as weak and a converse amount of freedom and the right within the culture to "live authentically" and you will have a conflict. The need not to be seen as weak is different from being perceived as strong, but not very different, and this is somewhat at odds with the idea of freedom as the Sith have it. They are free to do pretty much as they will but they're also constrained by the ruthless power structure of their society. (Sith society is of course intertwined but largely separate from the Citizen's.) There is the emphasis on emotion, but that does not give you the freedom to be sad, because what makes you sad can be a tool to use against you. The same with happiness. Any emotion, positive or negative, can be used as a tool of manipulation against the Sith, as equally as they can be used as fuel for their own power. It is simply that certain emotions, like anger specifically, are more easily turned to one's own use than others.

The very basis of having a connection to the Force gives a connection to the Universe at large. It is a fundamental oneness to life and existence that those who are Force Blind don't have and, arguably, gives insight that those without it will never be able to grasp. (Theoretically.) Of course, this insight does not necessarily make those who have it infallible, much as they may wish it would. This fallibility paired with a secretive knowledge that is inaccessible to many is the reason for a lot of questioning and strife between the Sith and Imperial Citizen. Under the order of the Empire it should not be - remember the virtues of upholding order and unity - but if one must have the means of acquiring knowledge to be able to understand the knowledge and that means of acquisition is an innate faculty, then the veracity and reality of said knowledge is not something easily verified. "Trust me" isn't good enough when you literally cannot tell if someone is lying.

Another cause of the schism within Imperial culture is the want of Sith to see the Empire and Its people as tools for their own ends. This can come as a result of seeing the good of the Empire as being the same as the good of the Sith, or sometimes even the good of the Self. That is not necessarily true in all cases, though, as while their is an expectation to act moderately selflessly with regard to the Empire, Sith are still afforded a great enough degree of freedom and power that one could argue it's more of a social nicety than a hard rule. See Lord Grathan's estate debacle for a possible interpretation: his walling off and going against the Dark Council was a political and social faux pas but it didn't seem to turn him into an ethical pariah (correct me if I'm wrong, I haven't played in yonks).

I feel I ought to end with the rather obvious note that none of this is really achievable in an idealised sense. Any contradictory nature in the virtues listed above is entirely intentional as sometimes it feel like the entirety of Imperial society is several angry rocks lashed together with bungee cord and, while it strains to be coherent and does function on macro scale, the actual day-to-day life of the individual is fraught either with the meaninglessness of their existence within a vast machine that wishes for a useful life and useful death of its cogs or loomed over with ever present dread that someone with more power or influence than you might be annoyed enough to make your life a literal living hell at any moment.

Further reading: Crash Course's Philosophy: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL8dPuuaLjXtNgK6MZucdYldNkMybYIHKR James Tullos' The f@cism of military sci-fi: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vph_cDjcgEE Hello Future Me On Worldbuilding: How do Empires Work?: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51MWp0Hgo90 (this is a three part series, followed by The Rise of an Empire? and How an Empire Falls?) Stanford's Nietzsche article, specifically the Will To Power section: https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/nietzsche/#SomeNietValu Stanford, Authenticity: https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/authenticity/ Plato, The Republic (can you tell?) Contractarianism: https://www.philosophybasics.com/branch_contractarianism.html Fallacy (logic and reasoning), examples: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fallacy#Common_examples The Golden Mean, which you might recognise as the Buddhist Middle Way: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_mean_(philosophy)

Class hierarchy: https://tatiletotesamaze.tumblr.com/post/171101223086/im-going-to-do-it-properly-now-how-i-approach Community-centric, self-centric: https://tatiletotesamaze.tumblr.com/post/169745967921/imperial-life-things-two-archetypes-for Imperial Social Contract: https://tatiletotesamaze.tumblr.com/post/171174833921/ok-so-the-premise-is-basically-a-social-contact Health Care: https://tatiletotesamaze.tumblr.com/post/172526303826/i-wanna-talk-about-health-care-in-the-empire Where there is an Imperial: https://tatiletotesamaze.tumblr.com/post/170236577656/tatiletotesamaze-as-the-sith-occupy-a-strange

#swtor #long #headcanon #imperiallife

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raptortext · 5 years

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@knightadora asked: 40. Against a wall kiss - Zack/Cloud - FFVII

(ao3 link)

2,041 words, some kind of au, Reno’s here

“Man...this is really where Reno wanted to meet us, huh?” Zack muses.

Cloud is too miserable to let Zack know he couldn’t make out a damn word he said. It’s too loud in this club. It’s crowded. The only lights are colored and moving while they flash. The music is already pounding but to Cloud it’s an earthquake ripping into his head.

This fucking sucks.

Zack doesn’t seem too bothered by any of this; he’s always been immune to the stuff that gets to Cloud the most. Cloud is kicking himself over not thinking to bring those ear plugs Tifa got him. He knows exactly where they are and yet he left them behind like an idiot. He’s going to strangle Reno.

“Let’s get this over with,” Cloud says to himself, refusing to even try projecting anything he says to Zack.

“Let’s get this over with!” Zack yells down at Cloud who grimaces. Cloud nods and follows Zack closely, barely processing anything that’s going on around him.

He can vaguely hear Zack asking dancing people if they know who Reno is. When the answer is affirmative, which is most of the time, he asks if they’ve seen Reno around. Everyone says no.

“What a guy!” Zack shouts in Cloud’s direction and the tone is completely lost. “So private that he won’t come to you, not so private that everyone knows him, but then so private that no one knows where he is!”

Cloud does not give a shit anymore. This is a nightmare. This is too damn much just to get whatever Reno wants delivered. Why did he agree to pick it up from him? Why does he do anything for Reno anymore? When did Reno even get his personal cell phone number?

At some point—it feels like hours to Cloud—Zack realizes that Cloud isn’t all there. He grabs Cloud’s hand and starts leading him through the swarm of sweating, twisting bodies. Cloud is floating along, he barely feels the heat anymore and can only process the music as mind-numbing vibrations; lights aren’t supposed to be purple and blue and they sure as hell aren’t supposed to move. Maybe Reno tricked him into entering an alternate reality.

Suddenly he’s thrust into a small room lit with white light. He flinches and shuts his eyes tight. There’s no more deafening thunder and no more hordes but the light is too bright for a while.

“Hey...sorry buddy, I was trying to get us in and out and didn’t check on you. You alright?”

Cloud takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah...yeah, now I am. Forgot my ear plugs.”

Zack rubs Cloud’s back until Cloud opens his eyes. Cloud looks around. They’re in a bathroom—a well kept one, at that. He’s not the biggest fan of white light but anything’s better than colorful strobe lights penetrating the darkness. He sighs and leans back against the wall.

“Is Reno trying to kill me…?” he groans. Zack chuckles.

“Just think of it this way: if he did, he wouldn’t have anyone to deliver his stuff.”

Cloud snorts. “I guess so.”

He holds his head for a moment and then looks up at Zack. Zack gets closer, places one hand on the wall and the other squeezing Cloud’s upper arm for comfort. “Need more time?”

“...Yeah.”

Zack nods. His eyes are so enchanting, beautiful. Cloud may only be half-present but he’s fully attracted to his best friend. He gets called “buddy” and he’s split between wanting to be with Zack more and trying to force the crush to stop. It’s been a few years and struggling to stop being into Zack hasn’t worked at all.

“Anything else I can do for you?” Zack offers.

Cloud sighs and shuts his eyes again.

“Be nice if you kissed me,” he murmurs, his lapse in presence making him briefly forget that Zack, who is in very close proximity, can hear him in this quiet bathroom. It takes him until Zack says something to realize what he did.

“Do you...really want to?” Zack asks for clarification. Cloud freezes up. This is...bad. He didn’t actually plan on this. He was ready to wait until the most tension-heavy moment to do or say anything, fully prepared for that opportunity to never arise.

But here he is. Stuck between Zack and a hard place being asked if he really wants to kiss Zack.

Great.

Cloud stammers for a moment, loses his cool. Zack is being patient and not giving any drastic reactions. He hasn’t moved away and hasn’t stopped applying pressure to Cloud’s arm. Cloud swallows. This is too much.

“...Yeah,” he admits, averting his gaze. “That wasn’t how I wanted to bring it up.”

Zack grins. “What? Were you gonna wait until we couldn’t take it anymore?”

Cloud pouts and Zack laughs. Zack knows him too well.

“I’m sure we have a little time to ourselves...unless Reno comes through that door in the next minute,” Zack suggests with a wink. Cloud rolls his eyes.

“Don’t summon him. Please.”

Zack smirks. “I think we’d have to say his name three time in the mirror or something, what do you think?”

Cloud shrugs. He looks into Zack’s eyes and relaxes his jaw; he didn’t know he was clenching it in the first place. “I think you should stop talking about Reno and kiss me,” he answers. Zack nods.

“You got it.”

There’s a moment before Zack kisses Cloud that feels like an eternity. Cloud closes his eyes and waits for that whole flash of time for Zack to kiss him. He’s struck with relief when Zack’s lips land gently on his own, when they pucker for a bit then lay on more pressure. Kisses are shorter than Cloud expected and he feels like Zack is backing up too soon.

Unable to stop himself and eyes still closed, Cloud gasps, “Wait.”

“Don’t worry,” Zack chuckles. “I just wanted to get a good look at you.”

Cloud rolls his eyes even though they’re still shut.

Zack comes back with a more intense kiss that gives Cloud the chills. It almost feels as if Zack has been holding back, too. Cloud starts to kiss back, utilizing his jaw to get Zack’s lower lip between his--he might have bitten him a little. He repeats sliding off and latching back on over and over. Cloud isn’t sure who’s producing the small breathy grunts or if it’s both of them; he feels like he’s breathing too much through his nose, but it’s not like his mouth is unoccupied.

Just as Zack puts a hand behind Cloud’s neck the bathroom door slams open.

“Okay, who the hell is—oh. Woooooow, really guys?”

Zack pulls off Cloud and steps away, deeply red in the face. Cloud suspects the warmth taking him over is from certain feelings from the kiss but then being immediately overridden by annoyance from being interrupted, particularly by who.

“Reno,” Cloud chides as if nothing happened. “If you were going to make us come out here then why weren’t you—”

“Woah woah woah!” Reno interjects, thrusting a finger at Cloud. “Don’t come at me when you two were getting chummy in the only bathroom! Jeez, people have to piss, you know.”

Cloud is too frustrated to feel embarrassed or ashamed. “Can you at least close the door? It’s too loud.”

Reno squints at him while he does so. “It’s a club, what did you expect?”

“I expected you to be easy to find so I could pick up your package,” Cloud responds, pushing himself off the wall. “Do you have it?”

Reno sighs dramatically and produces a thick, letter-sized envelope from somewhere in his sports jacket. Cloud finally takes a closer look at Reno’s appearance, namely his fully opened button-up shirt, clearly tailored to fashionably hang open and never close. Everything else looks normal—fancy jacket, slacks, boots, pointless goggles—but the open display of his upper body is new. Cloud is sure that if he took a wet wipe to Reno’s torso he’d erase a good amount of, honestly unnecessary, ab contouring.

He snatches the envelope from Reno. “Just drop off your packages like everyone else next time.”

Reno shrugs and smirks. “Nah, I can’t be seen in the public eye like that.”

Zack snorts. “Uh huh, says the guy everyone in the club knows by name,” he chimes in, hands on his hips. Reno, taken aback, grumbles to himself and dismissively waves his hand at the two.

“Okay, okay, whatever. Why don’t you two go home and get a room, we kinda need this bathroom for the guests.”

“Why did you make a club with one bathroom?” Cloud deadpans.

Reno makes a show of groaning. “Man, everybody’s a critic, huh?” When he notices Cloud’s expression he straightens back up and clears his throat. “Okay, know what? For all your trouble I’ll hire a courier next time to bring the goods to you, how’s that sound?”

Cloud tucks the envelope under his arm. “So you’ll send Rude.”

“That obvious?” Reno snorts. “Anyway, call me about postage and I’ll get that to you later.”

Cloud can at least trust Reno to do as he promises; he’s never botched a transaction, at least not on purpose. “Sure.”

Reno opens the bathroom door and lets it swing wide open. “Alright, get out.”

“Gladly.”

Zack follows Cloud close behind as they use the wall to guide themselves out of the club. Cloud manages to escape the building without going into a near-shutdown state again. Once they breach into the outside world Cloud feels much better than he has in the past however long they were trapped in Reno’s stupid club. He takes the envelope and turns it around a few times.

“Another fake name, probably,” Cloud mutters, examining the to/from information. Zack chuckles, pitched higher from disbelief.

“You sure know some characters, huh?” he comments. Cloud looks tired.

“They find me,” he replies, annoyed. “And they refuse to un-find me.”

Cloud retrieves his keys out of his pocket and puts Reno’s envelope in the compartment under his bike’s back seat. He grabs two helmets from the same place and tosses one to Zack. Zack struggles—as he usually does—to get his on while Cloud mounts, secures his own helmet, and starts Fenrir.

Zack hops on behind Cloud and gets noticeably closer than every time before. “Y’know, it’s nice to actually hold onto you like this without feeling like I’m coming onto you,” he remarks and Cloud blushes. Zack would usually either hold onto the back seat or awkwardly hold onto Cloud’s hips—but that was for safety reasons. Now, Zack has his arms wrapped around Cloud’s waist for more than safety reasons.

“Good. Now I won’t have to worry about you flying off the back.”

The ride is mostly quiet and Cloud gets to enjoy Zack pressed up against his back the entire time. When Cloud drops Zack off, Zack gestures for him to take off his helmet. He does and is caught a little off guard when Zack kisses him. It’s quick, nothing like in the club bathroom, but it feels nice all the same.

“Talk about a fun get-together story, huh?” Zack says, clearly lingering. Cloud nods.

“I would rather not have had Reno there but what’s done is done,” he confirms. Zack ruffles Cloud’s hair and kisses his forehead.

“Shoot me a text when you’re done with deliveries tomorrow,” he requests, “we could pick up where we left off.” Zack winks and Cloud smiles a little.

“Sounds like a date,” he suggests.

Zack grins. “Know what? Pick a place or a thing to do and I’ll take you out on a real date.”

“No clubs.”

“Yes sir, no clubs.”

Cloud puts his helmet back on and revs his engine. “I’ll think about it. I don’t usually go out anywhere.”

“As long as you’ll be okay with something, I’m down for anything.”

“My bathroom is pretty nice, actually.”

Zack laughs. “Alright, alright, go home, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Cloud nods and drives off into the night. He has a lot to tell Tifa, including to prepare for Rude to be a mess around her sometime in the near future.

#knightadora #kiss fic prompts #clack #ffvii

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tenjouu · 5 years

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revolvere (2/?)

facetious plot summary: Lancelot loses his magic upon traveling back in time to the day of Alice the Second’s arrival. How will he save the world equipped with only his winning looks and charisma? Read on to find out! lmao!

1 | 2 : delegations

This time around, Lancelot learns to delegate.

No wonder he couldn’t come up with any good plans once he’d entered office. He was overwhelmed with the work and never could ignore the impending doom of his world, so it affected his productivity in some ways. Work smarter, not harder.

His officers reluctantly write yesterday off as an ‘off-day’. He’s back to his aloof persona, which gets them off his case, but he hires two aides to deal with the sheer mountain of paperwork on his desk, which gets them kind of back on his case, but they can’t really say anything about it since they know how busy Lancelot is.

It’s not unreasonable to buckle under the pressure. And with the war brewing, his work literally increases tenfold. Lancelot doesn’t have anything to prove about being able to do all of it himself.

(“What?” Kyle would probably say, if you asked him about it. “He’s obviously an impostor. The real Lance would never pass up the chance to be unreasonable about his workload.”)

But Lancelot begrudgingly admits being king wouldn’t take nearly as long if he didn’t have to read all this shit. The glorious part about kingship is really nothing. Sometimes, he has inspections, meetings with foreign dignitaries, trips to the Civic Center, but those are few and far between.

His daily work is more like managing the salt directed at Hearts Quarter from the Diamonds (claiming political favoritism), charters for new institutions by nobles who have money, grievances and civil cases to be scheduled for later dates, his pet project of reforming the criminal system, marriage proposals from wealthy families within and outside of Cradle, requests for funding, requests for money, requests for more land, requests for a peace treaty—

Necessary, but some of these things are not quite like the others. The problem is that Lancelot never knows which ones he can throw out on first glance because no one reviews the documents before he does. But Lancelot doesn’t really have to address all of these himself.

(He repurposes an unused chamber room into a new office.

“Reject all of the marriage proposals but diplomatically,” he tells his new aides. “If the charters are for a good cause, accept them. I will give you a list of my scheduled council meetings, so arrange court dates as necessary. I don’t care for the time, but not after dinner. Assuage Diamonds Quarter that there’s no favoritism here; I have no patience for either faction and therefore cannot discriminate on principle.” He pauses. “Maybe don’t put it quite like that. If someone asks for an audience with the king, determine for yourself whether it’s of importance and respond. If you have any documents you’re unsure of, place them on my desk, or just ask me.”

The two of them stare at him with wide eyes. The woman looks a little stunned. The man is positively flabbergasted. He must’ve wrecked their impression of him irreparably.

Once again, zero fucks.

Lancelot turns to survey the massive towers on his desk.

“And utilize paper organizers,” he adds as an afterthought. “Label the bins so I know what is what.”)

All in a day’s work. Now that he doesn’t have to read all of those papers himself, he easily has time to join his officers for dinner.

So he does. He never particularly was good at fitting in during social functions, and he might have been too ashamed to do anything about it once before, but he finds himself no longer caring.

Among other things that he says to them, one of them is: “I’m ordering you all to hire aides if you need them.”

Apparently, that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back, because Jonah finally confronts him after dinner.

“King Lancelot, forgive my forwardness, but recently…” He grits his teeth, clenching his fist in the hallway. Lancelot looks down, impassive. “…Have you been well? My understanding is that you have decided to hold off on annexing the Black Army, but you’ve changed…your usual modus operandi.”

Lancelot claps Jonah on the shoulder, and Jonah jerks from the contact. “I appreciate your concern, Jonah. But this isn’t a worse way to do things. What good is it for a single man to make all of the decisions? It’s good to have fresh, young opinions in the state. It’s the only way we can evolve.”

“Then, about the girl, Alice…?”

“I want her company, even if for just one day,” Lancelot says simply.

Jonah is rendered speechless.

“Now,” Lancelot reminds him gently, “hire an aide. And tell Edgar to as well. Or I’ll punish you two for direct disobedience.”

— . . . —

“I could retrieve Alice for you,” Edgar offers him, like how he had the first time.

Lancelot shakes his head. “You’re busy as is,” he says. “I trust that Sirius Oswald will follow through.” He turns a critical gaze to Edgar. “You heard from Jonah, I assume?”

Edgar is amused about the whole thing. “Well, if my king orders me to, then I can’t disobey,” he says amicably.

— . . . —

Kyle clearly thinks the whole thing is out of character, but he shrugs. “I don’t know what changed, but good for you, Lance,” he says supportively.

Zero hums in agreement.

— . . . —

So the whole magic thing is a bit of a problem.

He had some kind of guarantee of holding his own against Amon, figuring he would use the power vested in him to beat the hell out of that deluded, infantile megalomaniac, but now he’s as magically conductive as a plain rock. And that plan evidently didn’t turn out so well considering he regretfully took his final breath in Harr’s sturdy arms.

Everyone still thinks he can use magic, so he’ll let them think that. Amon’s due to check in on him in a few days, but Lancelot isn’t worried about the timing.

Sirius doesn’t disappoint. Not even a week after the Central Quarter confrontation, and Lancelot wants to laugh when he finds the Black Army’s Ace and Alice being escorted down the hallway by Zero. He keeps himself composed though as he offers Alice a cool smile. Sirius must’ve thought the offer was too good to pass up—and he must have realized that it was a show of trust. That Lancelot was testing him.

“He seriously never does that,” Godspeed mutters to her. “Stay on your guard.”

Alice looks uncertain, nods to her guard, and follows Lancelot into his office.

He closes the door behind him, unfazed by Godspeed’s challenging glare.

“Please sit,” he gestures to the chair before his desk. “I’ve already poured tea. And I’ve prepared your favorite desserts.”

Alice blinks down at the tray in surprise upon registering that the pastries are indeed her favorite. It’s not as if Lancelot was unobservant during her time in Red Headquarters. Edgar was always busying about, finding ways to smuggle in her favorite things. He’d offer to let Lancelot have some too.

“Thank you,” Alice says, tense as Lancelot takes the seat in front of her.

“Relax,” Lancelot says. “You’re here as a guest. You will not be harmed.”

Easier said than done, he thinks wryly as Alice tries and utterly fails to loosen up. He can understand maybe why—he wonders just exactly how Sirius convinced her to come. What was it he said? ‘I would like to get to know her better’?

“I like baking,” she blurts, tracing the rim of her tea cup.

“I know,” Lancelot hums. He definitely knows. She’s damn good at it too.

Alice makes a face, opening her mouth to no doubt follow up with something else out of the blue, in a misguided attempt to let Lancelot ‘know her better’, but Lancelot holds a hand up.

“I actually already know you quite well, Alice,” he says. She doesn’t look reassured—in fact, possibly even more apprehensive than before. “Maybe I should tell you more about myself instead.”

“Please do, King Lancelot,” she says, smiling stiffly, finally looking up.

Lancelot resists the urge to smile at the humor in this situation. She must have a direly wrong impression.

Well, here goes.

“Do you know of the Magic Tower?” he asks. She nods. That saves him the explanation then. “I plan to overthrow a man who is currently looking down from a very high place in there. I’d like your help in passing messages along to the Black Army. The peace treaty needs to be kept under wraps so that this man doesn’t suspect anything.”

“Oh, thank god,” Alice breathes. That’s her first instinctive reaction. Her second is to blush, delightfully red, when she remembers where she is. “Oh, that was terribly rude of me! I apologize—“

Lancelot laughs. “You did well to be wary of strange men,” he commends her, “but you’ll find that there are stranger men out there.”

Alice doesn’t look like she disagrees. But her eyes narrow thoughtfully.

“Forgive me for my forwardness, but...why should I believe you?”

“There’s something that I need to protect,” he says with iron resolve. “I cannot give up on the future of this country. Even if it costs my life, I will protect the people. In another world, I would have tried to go it alone.”

In another world, he did.

“But I think it would’ve turned out differently if I had been honest from the start. I’ve decided to place my faith in the strength of others.”

He inclines his head.

“I cannot make you believe me. I can only ask you to trust me.”

She has always been a good judge of character. She was so good for Edgar. Lancelot finds himself strangely relieved when she finally nods, eyes shining with determination. She believes him.

“I’m telling Ray and the others,” she says. “They’re the ones who can make an informed decision about this.”

“I expect no less,” he replies. “But you must keep the details of our deal from any spies. I’m sure there are bugs planted in Blackwell’s army, just as there are in mine. For now, only tell him and Sirius.”

Alice acknowledges his command and takes a sip from her tea. Peering over the rim of the cup, she asks curiously, “Why are you telling me all of this, King Lancelot? You asked me to trust you, but it seems you’ve risked quite a lot to trust me.”

“I have nothing to lose by telling you,” he responded. “Either the Black Army chooses to believe you or they dismiss your words as ludicrous and baseless. The master of the tower thinks I’m completely under his control, and I’ve built up quite the reputation for belligerence.”

“But you know Sirius will believe you, and Ray believes Sirius,” she muses.

He knew she was clever. He wishes more than ever she’d stay in Red Headquarters. Now that he thinks about it, before death, he was so busy preparing for the final confrontation that the amount of time he had was impossibly little.

He hadn’t seen her for four days then. Now that he thinks about it, he missed the Alice of his world. And if his officers—Jonah, Edgar, Zero, Kyle—were here, they would miss the brightness that Alice brought with her everywhere too. As it stands, he’s the only one in the Red Army who remembers and knows to mourn the loss of her company.

“And I’ve told you already,” Lancelot interjects, amused. “I know you quite well. I knew I could trust you. I even know your birthday.”

“I was going to ask about that, actually,” she gasps. “How do you know everything? Are you psychic? Does magic make you psychic?”

“If you want to think of it that way.”

Her eyes are wide with wonder when he brings up the next topic.

“You will be in even more danger now that I’ve brought you into the fold,” he warns. “We’ll need a believable story, and I already have someone in mind who will protect you from the tower since they’ve certainly caught wind of your existence.”

Knowing better than to disagree about needing protection, she simply accepts it with a nod.

“So I’m to play...the Red King’s lover, who is a ward of the Black Army?” she says slowly.

“It need not be reciprocated by you.” Lancelot has no intention, after all, of actually making a move on Alice. He won’t be stepping over his retainer’s toes in the matter. “Given the public perception of me, it would be laughable for you to fall in love with me. So instead, I suppose I’ll have to fall for you.”

Strangely, her face looks troubled. “King Lancelot, you don’t give yourself enough credit,” she says earnestly.

“Says the woman who came in dreading my declaration of undying love,” he shoots back.

She flushes. “That was before I got to know you better! No one in their right mind would agree immediately, no matter how beautiful the other person is!”

“Thank you, Alice,” he says, dry as sand. “I’m not against pretending that the infatuation is mutual. But it’s better for my reputation if these tea parties appear to be against your will.”

“Isn’t it worse for your reputation?”

“Don’t worry about that,” he replies, unconcerned. “I don’t care for bettering my reputation in the good way. Now, if Blackwell’s Ace asks what happened in here, tell him that you were absolutely disgusted by my arrogance and domineering personality.”

“King Lancelot,” she sighs at him in farewell. He notes that she’s taking the tray of pastries with her.

“Be sure to play your part,” he says, letting slip a trace of fondness.

“I will!” she says, pretending defiance when she opens the door.

“I’ll send for you,” he calls calmly as she closes it.

One of his favorite people, going.

He didn’t realize this is what it’s like to watch the back of a person who is leaving you before you can leave them.

It’s bittersweet.

Godspeed’s repulsed scowl is sour icing on the cake.

— . . . —

The guard that Lancelot has in mind is someone that he knows is powerful. Now that Lancelot actually has time after dinner on week days, he goes to the cat alley in Central Quarter and lies in wait.

Loki shows up without fail.

“Oh,” he says, surprised but also unimpressed. “The King of Hearts.”

His love for cats trumps his wariness of Lancelot, because he doesn’t flee on the spot. He lowers his basket of goodies and the felines swarm him.

A stray cat, enjoying the warmth of Lancelot’s lap and the gentle scritch-scratch of Lancelot’s fingers, is the only one who stays back.

“Didn’t know you liked cats, o’ king,” Loki adds, trying to draw a reaction, when Lancelot doesn’t say anything.

A king befitting Lancelot’s reputation might’ve spouted some pompous line like, ‘They’re elegant, clever little creatures.’

Lancelot opens his mouth and what comes out is, “They’re nice and soft.”

Loki makes no effort to conceal his jaw dropping. “Excuse me?”

He doesn’t take it back. “I like cats,” he says. “I didn’t think it was mutually exclusive with kingship.”

Loki shakes his head. “It isn’t. The Black—oh,” he cuts himself off emphatically, realizing what he was about to divulge.

“How’s Harr?” Lancelot prompts suddenly.

Loki narrows his eyes. “Fine,” he huffs, tetchy, and ignores Lancelot for the rest of the hour.

—

Lancelot kind of has a schedule though. He said he’d send for Alice in a few days to give her time to convince the other two, so he simply can’t wait for Sirius to put him in contact with Harr when the truce hasn’t even been officialized in secret yet.

Without magic, he can’t see past Harr’s invisibility barriers, and therefore he can’t possibly hope to navigate the forbidden forest and find him that way.

So he comes back to the alley two days in a row. This time, he’s the one bearing gifts. Food waste after dinner in the barracks is a big problem, after all. Another thing he’ll have to fix when he topples Amon’s reign in the shadows.

“Cheshire Cat,” he says. “I need to speak with Harr. Tell me where he is.”

“I don’t know,” Loki says, eyeing Lancelot’s payload. “You could check Central Quarter. Can’t you sense him with your magic?”

They both know if Harr doesn’t want to be found, then he won’t be. Lancelot wonders if he can lure Harr out somehow. He has no illusions that Loki is a cunning young man who could just as easily turn the tables on Lancelot. The sooner he’s put into contact with Harr the better.

So he leans close and says casually, “I no longer have magic. And save some of that for Harr.”

“I—I was planning to,” Loki snaps, his face transparent with shock.

— . . . —

He’s a genius.

Harr confronts him two days later.

#ft #ikerev fanfic #lancelot loves his friends #fic: lance changes the world #i'm on a roll!!!!#please enjoy lol #alice & lancelot solidarity #it's canon that lancelot was fond of alice in edgar's route #i guess i'm kind of basing this off of edgar's route then?#but i've literally said 'to hell with pacing' with this one post #harr will soon make his entrance as a hilariously comprehensively lost wizard who's trying to make heads or tails of his old friend lancelot #ready yourself for the harlance you know i only have one thing on my agenda #lancelot: the efficient worker

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lwoorl · 5 years

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The Day Laika Came Back

Link to ao3

Note: This is an experiment to see if posting my fanfictions in both tumblr and ao3 is worth it. If this publication gets to at least 50 notes (not counting self-reblogs) in the following 3 weeks I will start posting my future fics in tumblr, otherwise I will stick to only publishing in ao3.

Summary: Jon Kent comes back from space, years older and unable to believe he made it home. But coming back to the life he left won’t go as smoothly as he wished it did.

Jon can’t help it, he has to stare. Everything is so new and nostalgic at the same time, like a dream he’s had every single night for years and years and only now can clearly remember. It doesn’t feel real, the trees, the sky, as if someone took the string of memories he barely could hold, those precious, faded images he was starting to doubt if ever even happened and knitted a world out of it, colorful and lovely and solid. The final sentences from a poem he could barely recall, suddenly coming together into something he can hold.

It’s too good to be true and it makes the back of his neck ache, hurt and burn with that sense of dread crawling all over his shoulders, like subconsciously he knows any moment now the universe will pull him by the hair and throw him back into the darkness of space like a rag doll, like it all will dissolve if he so much as reaches to pick up a flower and he will be forced to admit what he’s been fearing for a long time now, that this never existed and the infinite void and the rocky prison is his only real place, that he appeared there and will roam there and will die there and all there is is there and there and there and nothing else than there and all those memories he holds so dear are just a bad joke, a carrot dangling in front of a horse to keep it walking; A plastic carrot.

But right now, he isn’t there. He’s here. And it’s real and true and alive and he can’t help but to look at everything with very round wide eyes like a baby who was just born. Drinking all around him like a man who’s been in the desert a decade and a half and will die if he doesn’t drink all the water in the world.

It happens all too quickly, the arrival, the fighting, confusion, questions, answers, kind words, harsh words, words, words, words all around, all in English, not kryptonian or other alien language but his mom’s tongue. He keeps it together through all that and puts a brave face on, and then when no one but his parents are watching and it’s all over he cries on his dad’s shoulder and his mom’s arms are around him and Jon shakes and chokes and laughs.

Time passes, seconds, hours, it’s not even been four days when a lot of people congregate around him. They ask more questions and he gives more answers and they demand proves and tests and argue and discuss and through all that he can’t help but to pass his eyes over their faces and almost gasp when he sees anything vaguely familiar. Dad’s friends, dad’s coworkers, that one’s wonder woman, that one’s a green lantern, that one’s this, this one’s that, that, those, these, and then his eyes rest on someone he thought he would never see again and if he thought his eyes couldn’t widen more, well, he was wrong.

He’s shorter than Jon remembers and he also got a bit wrong the length of the hair, but the costume, that’sexactly as he pictured it in his mind all these years, from the boots to the cape to the utility belt, he got it all right.

Damian has his eyes very open just like Jon, he can notice it even with the mask, and suddenly he really wishes he could take it off, to see his eyes. He can’t remember if they were green or blue.

He’s stuck there, being hit once again with the amazing, ecstatic thisisrealimherenotthere feeling, just going over his friend’s features, burning the image in his mind, and then Damian bites his lips and looks away like someone slapped him and it comes crashing down.

…Ah.

His dad will always be his dad, and his mom his mom, but he never… Well, he did, but not really, not seriously, he never… Actually thought how it would be for everything else.

Because, well, it makes sense, he's… He isn’t the same as when he left, he took too long coming back and now. And- And probably if he had taken one or two, maybe even three years that wouldn’t be much of a difference, maybe, but he's… He probably doesn’t look at all like his younger self.

And… It hasn’t been that long here. And now he thinks about what it must be like, what it would be like for him as a kid, and he realizes a lot of people probably won’t see him as himself. Won't… It will be more like this eleven years old just dissipated in thin air and a randomadult that just so happens to share his name appeared in his place and those two only have the most tiniest of connections and that one time when he met that older version of Damian and himself he didn’t actually think of them as them , did he? Not as…

He keeps looking at the ground for the rest of the Justice League meeting, and when everyone starts to leave he doesn’t notice Damian walking towards him until he speaks.

“Jon.”

He feels like jumping out of his own skin. He looks up, and then down, because Damian is short and a kid. And Jon isn’t, not anymore, and then Damian starts to open his mouth to say something but Jon doesn’t want to hear it, he doesn’t, because if there’s another thing he remembers of his best friend is that he’s mean, good intentioned and warm, a really good person once you know him, but also oh so damn harsh, and he usually could deal with that and see the real meaning lurking under his words but right now he’s tired, beaten and in the middle of a life crisis and can’t, doesn’t want to and won’t deal with it. So he bails. He just walks out and leaves him there, half a word out of his lips, he then goes back to his dad’s side and absconds from the encounter.

Some time passes, he settles, and doesn’t get in contact with anyone. Because it would hurt, right? He already proved he can’t face Damian; Kathy would either cry or smile and act like it’s fine, but he doubts she will see him as her friend and not a shadow of someone she knew; And he can’t actually tell any of his school friends… He’s ashamed to admit, he doesn’t really remember half of them.

So he stays in Metropolis and thinks what to do. He can’t just retake school where he left it, he will most likely have to work on getting a GED. He can’t hang out with people he knew, not now that he’s so different. He doesn’t think he will leave to do anything in space as long as he lives. And he doesn’t feel like looking for a job. So he stays with his parents dear Rao he missed them and throws himself into fighting crime, perfectly and completely, until it’s almost like he doesn’t have a civilian identity anymore. It makes for a good distraction, but there’s the risk of running into people he knows.

He thinks Damian is doing it on porpoise, working near Metropolis, sometimes in Metropolis, be it alone or with his Teen Titans team. He runs into him a couple of times, Damian’s heart beats real fast when it happens, and then he always tries to force him into talking when the fight is over, but Jon just keeps looking to the ground and running away. It must make him look like a jerk, hell, he feels like a jerk, but he can’t face it, the ‘you aren’t my Jonathan Kent’ he just knows is coming.

He’s walking through the city, pulling at his civilian shirt as he runs an errand for his mom. It feels like a costume, he wonders if normal clothes ever felt this fake as a kid, he can’t remember.

Suddenly, there’s a heartbeat in the crowd, a fast one he recognizes, moving right at him.

He tries to escape like the coward he is, but he can’t show his powers in public, and he doesn’t want to just walk over someone. Jon tries finding a place hidden from sight so he can take flight and disappear like always, but just as he’s entering an alley there’s a little hand firmly around his wrist and judging by how much force he’s applying there’s no real way he can get rid of Damian without tearing one of his fingers off.

It must look funny, the image of this young adult all but cornered by a tiny runt, looking like he’s going to pass out as he avoids looking at his face. It doesn’t feel funny, but, Jon thinks, it probably looks funny for someone else.

“Why are you ignoring me?!” Damian yells, his fingers hard enough against Jon’s skin that his nails turn white. “No, not only ignoring! Why are you avoiding me?!”

The accusation makes Jon flinch because, well, because it’s completely true. He forces himself to look at Damian’s face. His eyes are teal, so he was half right.

“Why do you think?” Is all he can say. Because really, it should be obvious, right? He isn’t the same person, barely remembers who he used to be. If he met a younger version of himself today, Jon’s afraid he couldn’t prove him they’re the same person.

The moment they talk for more than ten seconds Damian will realize he isn’t who he remembers and will lose all interest in him, maybe will even blame him for his loss, like he personally murdered the kid to occupy his place. No one shows it, but they’re just thinking of him as a bad copy, aren’t they?

“Tt.” Damian’s jaw tenses and his heartbeat skips a beat. “Of course.” He frowns really hard and then lets Jon’s wrist go. He doesn’t waste much time into flying away.

He doesn’t see him for a while. Damian stops invading his city and he doesn’t even hear of Robin for two or three months. Jon tries not to feel sad about it, but truth is the attention felt nice.

Around four months later there’s an alien invasion. The whole league joins to fight it and Jon helps too.

He’s fighting in the front lines, punching alien after alien after alien, when he hears a familiar scream and turns his head right on time to see Robin get hit and fall to the ground. The one who attacked has their weapon pointed at him.

Jon is there in less than a second, his eyes red as he stands between Damian and the other guy. Jon isn’t sure why, maybe it’s because he just recovered all this life and is still half expecting to lose it, maybe it’s because he hasn’t had someone he cares about actually being in danger in forever, or maybe realizing he’s the older one now is getting to him more than he first thought, but there’s just this surge of protectiveness running through his veins that builds up and comes out in a “Don’t touch him!” That resembles more an animalistic growl than human speech.

It’s over quickly, a leap and a well aimed hit is all it takes. He’s next to Damian before he even realizes. He offers to help him stand up but Damian slaps his hand away.

“I don’t need your help, don’t treat me like a kid.”

“Stop being so fucking stubborn, you could have died!” Damian’s heart jumps at that, for a moment Jon doesn’t know why, and then realized it’s because he isn’t used to hearing him swear.

The feelings of the last couple months come back but he pushes that aside, the middle of a war zone is not the time to worry about his interpersonal drama.

Damian tries to get up and then trips, Jon’s there to catch him and then looks what’s the problem with his X-RAY vision. He’s got a broken leg, a bruised rib and some injuries on the left arm. He probably won’t be able to walk unassisted right away.

“Here, let me…” He moves to pick him up and Robin, surprisingly, doesn’t put up any resistance. Jon doesn’t even need to use more than one arm to fit him, Damian’s so damn tiny.

“Put me down.”

“No.”

He looks around. The battle’s almost over, but there’s still people fighting and shots firing up nearby. Jon trusts the others to hold up without him for a while and starts flying towards safety.

“Just let me down, I can wait until Father comes for me.”

“Yeah, no. I’m not taking any risks.”

“You shouldn’t be wasting time with this, you and Superman are our biggest hitters.”

“You’re important too.”

“…Why?”

The word comes soft and broken, and it makes Jon pause mid air. He looks down, at the boy in his arms. Damian isn’t looking at him as he holds a handful of his red cape.

“Because you’re my best friend.” The words come easier than he would have thought, like they were just waiting to leave his mouth. Damian lets go of the fabric and then looks at him, his face a mirror of the expression he had when Jon just came back.

“But I thought…” He trails off. Jon resumes moving and after a while Damian speaks again, barely a whisper “Then why have you been avoiding me? I… Thought you didn’t want to see me.”

“I guess that’s a normal conclusion to get to.” He mutters, because, well, it is. Why is he so damn clumsy with people? Sometimes it’s as if his mere existence was hurting those around him. “But, no, that’s not why.”

“Then why?!”

This is the point on the conversation that Jon would chicken out and disappear, but he can’t do that while carrying the person he’s talking to. So he takes a deep breath and conjures all the guts he can get. “I didn’t think you would like the person I’m now.”

A beat of silence, a pang of anxiety, and then “You’re really an idiot if you thought that.”

Jon laughs, there’s no other answer he can give to that, he laughs and ever so slightly holds Damian a bit closer. They stay in silence the rest of the trip, and soon he’s leaving his friend at the safe edge of the battle field.

He starts turning around, ready to go back, when he feels those little fingers around his arm.

“Jon.” Damian’s voice is calm and steady, but his heart is going fast and filled with adrenaline. “You haven’t changed at all.”

It’s the first time Jon’s heard that. It’s been months since he made it home, and it’s the first time he hears that sentence. Those words go to stab him right on the chest, and he has to look away and bring a hand to his face to clean the tears that are peeking from his eyes.

“Yeah.” He nods, not sure what he’s agreeing to. Damian smiles and his fingers release him. “After this… Can we hang out?”

“Do you really need to ask?!” Damian huffs, and then, softer. “We have a lot of catch up to do.”

“You have no idea.” He laughs again, Jon thinks this is the most he’s laughed ever since that reunion with his parents.

As he leaves to re-enter the battle, he hears behind him a “Come to the manor later, we can play video games and you can see Titus and Alfred again!” He stops just long enough to wave, and then flies into the war zone.

Jon thinks, for the first time in a long while… That things are going to work out just fine.

#jon kent #damian wayne #super sons #superman #superboy #robin #fanfiction #my writing #my fic #adult jon kent #canon compliant

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littlemisssquiggles · 6 years

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RWBY Musings #51: Oscar-Worthy. A Squiggle Meister’s Views on Oscar’s Transformation from Farm Boy to Huntsman.

Remember the time back in RWBY V1 when we got a two part episode that focused primarily on Jaune Arc and his character development? Remember Jaundice Part 1 & 2?

Imagine…something much similar for Oscar Pine but instead of a simple two-parter, the rest of Oscar’s story is written as a full narrative expanded over an entire season; marking the final chapter in his hero’s journey with Ozpin.

Disclaimer: This is another long one boys and girls. Fear not, it’s NOT 20+ pages long or anything to that length, if that’s what you’re thinking. Besides, if you’re a fellow Pinehead like me, I think this post will either make you really happy or hit you directly in the feels depending on where I take your imagination. One of those things.

I had originally planned on making a musing post describing my ideas for what I would consider a perfect, Oscar-worthy character arc. However with all the commotion surrounding our veteran farm boy stirred up by the official V6 volume poster art and trailer, I can already tell that the CRWBY Writers are setting up us fans; particularly the Pineheads like myself, for a very Oscar-worthy season. And naturally, I am super excited for that.

Considering that Oscar is technically the new underdog amongst the hero team, even if V6 doesn’t focus on Oscar (and essentially Ozpin) entirely this season, I still hope that we get at least more than one episode with Oscar being the character fully driving the story forward.

And what would be cool is if one of those episodes was titled “Oscar worthy” as it focuses on Oscar’s feelings regarding his place within the group and how he feels about himself in general given everything he’s been through since V4.

Part of the reason why I’ve been hoping that Ozpin isn’t present much for V6 is not just so that Oscar can hold the spotlight for a change (though you all know I wouldn’t be against that at all) but mostly so that we can get more insight into Oscar’s mind and how he thinks without Ozpin.

I can already interpret from the trailer that there is going to be a bit of a toggle war between Oscar and Ozpin this rounds, especially coming out of the events of V5. And toss in the prospect of Salem becoming another unwelcomed voice inside the precious freckled pinecone’s head, words cannot begin to describe my excitement over how all of this is going to go down for Oscar.

You guys know how much this squiggle meister has been advocating for more progress with Oscar’s story since V5. I’m gonna be real with you guys. I honestly don’t mind what the CRWBY Writers decide to do for V6 so long as they do Oscar’s character justice. I am not ashamed to admit that Oscar’s storyline for V6 is what I’m looking forward to the most this season. Above Team RWBY kicking ass as a unit again, above the inevitable confrontation between Adam, Blake and Yang, above everything else this season plans on offering me, I’m more excited to just see Oscar and to see how they flesh out his character more this volume.

That being said, if V6 is finally going to give me that Oscar-worthy season I’ve been craving, they gotta do this right. This squiggle meister is going to need V6 to do a few things for me regarding Oscar. They’re not much but they do highlight a couple of things that were, let’s say, neglected from his progress in V5. So for what it’s worth, I’m hoping they get touched on. Not necessarily in the same manner I describe it but in some shape or form.

So without further ado, here are some of my ideas for things I’d like to see in an Oscar-worthy season:

All Aboard!

I want Oscar to talk to his aunt.

Since us Pineheads clearly won’t be getting the opportunity to actually meet Auntie Pine this season in the flesh, I’m still hoping that V6 at least mentions some more information regarding Oscar and his previous home life.

I understand I should probably just give up knowing more about Oscar’s backstory with his Aunt and family, seeing as there was no indication of us learning anything about her or Oscar’s past from the trailer. Nevertheless, I’m a stubborn little squiggle meister.

I am still hoping for something small---even if it’s just a brief scene of Oscar talking to his aunt over the phone or something. Can I at least get a short scene at the start of V6 where Oscar gets to say goodbye to his aunt again on screen? The boy is literally leaving for another kingdom in another continent on the other side of Remnant. They won’t be in Mistral anymore. Leaving home for the city was one thing but another kingdom! You cannot tell me that Oscar wouldn’t want to at least mention this news to his aunt on screen. Come on!

I will take a phone call. A hand-written letter. A small mention of Oscar informing his aunt of everything and having to hear how she feels about it. I am so desperate for this small child to have some form of better onscreen closure with his family that I will even take a mention. Give me something at least to that extent CRWBY Writers!

Perhaps… this scene of Ruby speeding through the train station using her semblance is what RWBY Youtuber EruptionFang said in his breakdown video on the V6 trailer.

According to him, the reason we’re seeing Ruby zipping through the train station is light-hearted since it’s probably her being late for the train and her semblance was the quickest means to make it in time. Yeah, that makes sense. But I’ll do one better.

Here’s what I think. Let’s say… Ruby noticed that Oscar wasn’t with everybody because he went off on his own to the nearest telephone booth or Mistralian telecommunication thingamabobble to make a small phone call to his Auntie Pine back home. However, by that time, it had been more than a few minutes since he’d left and while everyone else was present, Oscar was nowhere to be seen and the train that was supposed to take them to Argus was starting to let on passengers.

While the rest of the heroes boarded the train, Ruby volunteered to go find Oscar and utilizes her semblance to easily manoeuvre through the place. So this shot here is probably her doing that.

When Ruby finally finds our titular freckled farm boy, he’s standing near a Mistralian telecommunication thingamabobble with his back turned; presumably on the phone with someone. Upon closer inspection, Ruby realizes that Oscar was still talking to his aunt.

Okay, now the idea I have here is that there is a bit of unresolved tension between Oscar and Auntie Pine. Since we never actually got to see Oscar say goodbye to his aunt, I’m going to assume that his sudden departure from home wasn’t taken too well with his family.

I’m imagining that Oscar just wanted to give his aunt a quick call. Maybe we can even have a little insert meta joke of him saying he wanted to call to give his aunt a better goodbye than he did last time.

Let’s say Oscar had just wanted to call and let Auntie Pine know how things had gone with him in Mistral and inform her about Argus and Atlas. It was after a month but…still at least he called so she wouldn’t have to worry about him. As Ruby approached Oscar, she could hear a bit of the conversation between him and Aunt Pine. In my imagination, I picture it going something like this:

Oscar: I know you’re still kinda mad about me leaving before but---

Auntie Pine (voice over): Mad doesn’t begin to describe how I feel right now young man! And what you’re telling me now about going to Argus with a bunch of strangers you’ve been staying with in Mistral for over a month, that doesn’t make me feel less worried. Who even are these people? Why are you even hanging out with huntsmen of all people? You never even wanted to be a huntsman.

Oscar: Well maybe I want to be one now. Besides, the huntsmen I’m with…they’re good people Aunt [insert Oscar’s aunt’s official name here] so like I said, you don’t have to worry, okay?

Auntie Pine (voice over): I’m long past worried. Sweetie I’m scared…about everything. About you. What you’re doing? Oscar, this isn’t like you. Suddenly leaving home without saying anything. Going off to Mistral. Staying with huntsmen. Going to Atlas! The Oscar Pine I know would never do something like this. It’s like… it’s like you’re a completely different person and I’m scared the next time I see you, I might not even recognize my own nephew. I…will see you again, right? Oscar?

Before Oscar could answer his aunt, that’s when he notices Ruby standing awkwardly not too far from the booth. The Silver Eyed girl offered the farm boy a little friendly wave. Sighing, Oscar returned to his aunt on the phone.

Oscar: Look Auntie, my friend’s here so I gotta go. I’ll call you again as soon as we make it to Argus, okay? I…I love you.

But before Auntie Pine could even say it back, Oscar hangs up the phone. The young boy heaved an exasperated sigh as Ruby approached him cautiously, noticing his mood.

Ruby: (awkwardly) …Hey…everything ok with your aunt? I hope she’s alright with you coming with us to Atlas. Sorry I didn’t mean to easedrop, I just wanted to know if you’re okay for Atlas since it’s a…uh… really, really long trip and we’d be leaving Mistral and you’d be really, really, REALLY far from home…far from your family.

Oscar: (defensively) Yeah…so?

Ruby: So……I guess I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay…with everything.

Oscar: Does it really matter what I think?

Ruby: (confused) Of… course it does? Why wouldn’t it? Your feelings in this matter too. You…do know that, right?

Oscar: …Yeah well…it didn’t matter at Haven.

I sincerely would love a dialogue exchange like this for Oscar between Ruby and his aunt. I want a scene like this so that it can encompass two important facts I want to see indicated at the start of Oscar’s story for V6.

One: Oscar finally having a bit of closure with his family side of things since V4 by actually contacting his aunt, giving his a final goodbye, hearing how she feels about it even if it’s only a voice-over again and doing it all on screen for the audience to see this time. It’s not the best way but I’ll take that over nothing at all. There can even be a parallel during the finale where Oscar contacts his aunt again from Argus as promised. Will expand on that later in the post.

Two, it can also highlight Oscar’s feelings over what happened at Haven. Fans have speculated Oscar harbouring some negativity towards Ozpin following the stunt he pulled during the Hazel fight and I agree. I’d imagine that our farm boy would be kinda testy after waking up after Haven and what can add to his frustration is Oscar not even being able to tell off Ozpin because the ole wizard is still quote, unquote, ‘resting’ from Haven.

So I can imagine Oscar being more than a little cranky at the start of V6.

I really like the idea of Ruby going off to find Oscar at the train station. It’d be good as a nice little set up for Oscar’s character for the season. Not to mention that it can also possibly lead into a moment where Oscar gets to experience what it’s like to travel via Ruby’s speed semblance as the two speed off to catch the Argus train.

I think that could be hilarious especially if the two make it on the train in time, with Ruby being normal and Oscar all dizzy and seeing rose petals everywhere from the wild ride. I think that would be really funny if done.

On the Train to Argus

I dunno if the Mistralian trains in Remnant are like moving hotels on train tracks. I, being from a Caribbean country, have never ridden by train in real life before so I don’t know what it’s like to be on one.

But for the Argus Express in RWBY, I’d imagine that it’s be pretty expansive with different compartments---one containing a kind of mess hall or eating area where passengers can wine and dine while other compartments offer sleeping accommodations.

I have this concept for a scene where Ruby checks in on Oscar to see how he’s doing. Since he regained consciousness after the Haven Battle, Ruby has noticed that the farm boy has been mighty quiet; more so than he was when they first met. His change in mood was made even wearier when he told everyone that Oz still hadn’t revived since his brawl with Haven.

So Ruby, being Ruby decides to do something to cheer the farm boy up. I’m just picturing this cute scene where Ruby shows up at Oscar’s room or wherever he’s seated at on the train with a huge plate of food---mainly breakfast desserts. Basically she raided an entire food trolley and brought it all for Oscar. Picture another dialogue exchange like this:

Oscar: (eyeing the tower of food in Ruby’s hands) …What’s…all this?

Ruby: Oh, I noticed you haven’t been yourself since Haven so I thought you might like a little snack. When I’m not myself, I eat my favourite food. That always cheers me up. But I didn’t know what you like. I didn’t know if you’d want pancakes or waffles or French toast or crepes so…I brought you a little bit of everything. Just in case.

Oscar: …It…kind of looks like you robbed an entire breakfast trolley.

Ruby: Funny how you should mention that cause… I kinda did. Bon appetite!

Oscar: (chuckling lightly) Umm…thanks.

Y’know what I think? I feel like Oscar in V6 is going to have a similar experience to Harry Potter in The Order of Phoenix.

The fifth book is where Harry’s mental link with the resurrected Voldemort is established and Harry spends part of the plot dealing with involuntarily seeing into Voldemort’s mind while learning to defend his own mind against being probed by Voldemort in return. I also recall Harry being quite the angsty teenager during the fifth book, prone to moments of moodiness and lashing out at almost everyone; even his friends.

Somehow I can picture Oscar being the exact same way. Let’s say… Ruby tries to comfort Oscar with food and the two share a small scene where they eat together. During their conversation, Ruby asks Oscar if he was alright only for Oscar to have a sudden outburst of anger expressing his frustration over everything that’s happened within the aftermath of the Haven Battle.

Let’s say it goes something like this:

Oscar: (pointing to the food) You didn’t have to do this, y’know.

Ruby: I know but like I said, you haven’t been yourself lately so I wanted to cheer you up.

Oscar: (solemnly) Myself. And what exactly is myself?

Ruby: I… dunno. But why don’t you tell me about it over a nice hot plate of pancakes?

Ruby pushes a plate of fresh chocolate chip pancakes over to Oscar. She had even taken the liberty of topping it with some blueberries and whipped cream in the shape of a smiley face.

I feel like that would be a very Ruby thing to do especially if she’s trying to lift Oscar’s spirits. Plus I just want a scene involving food where Oscar is actually included since his presence was missing from the one in V5. I’m still salty about that by the way.

.I want to see Ruby sort of Dr. Phil Oscar. Like imagine, Oscar explaining his feelings to Ruby who listens on intently, the only sound from her being the squirt of a bottle of syrup she was using to dress her pancakes.

Ruby watches on as Oscar starts off nice and calm, talking about how good things were back for him back on his home farm with his Auntie, telling her a bit about his past. While he wasn’t sure if being a farmhand for his aunt in Mistral was how he wanted to spend the rest of his life, at least for the time being, Oscar was content where he was.But all things changed the day when the annoying old wizard entered his mind.

At the mention of Ozpin, that’s when Ruby noticed Oscar’s temperament pull a complete 180 as he suddenly jammed his fork into his stack of pancakes. Before he had started off slowly cutting through the pancake stack with a knife. Now he was practically attacking the breakfast dish vehemently as he recounted his first experience with Ozpin’s intrusion in his mind---informing Ruby of the untold weeks spent with Oz barraging him with details on things that didn’t make sense to him, practically pestering him to leave his home for Mistral and all that jazz. Y’know all the stuff we never got to see from Oscar’s side of the story in V4. Remember how some fans were disappointed that we never got to see the events that finally convinced Oscar to leave home? Well, basically imagine this idea as a sort of humorous way for Oscar to recount his story to Ruby since; now that I think about it. Oscar never got to tell his side of the story after meeting the gang in Mistral because Qrow interrupted him to reintroduce Ozpin.

So having Oscar tell his story while destroying a perfectly good stack of pancakes in his moodiness could be both fitting and funny. Not an inch of the breakfast pastry was spared in the massacre as Oscar stabbed at the pancakes with such unbridled pent up rage that it made Ruby pause in mid bite of her own plate as she just gawked at Oscar.

Basically Oscar expressed his fury over everything---leaving home, going to Mistral, training in Mistral, being scared shitless up until the very point of the Haven Battle, fighting Lionheart, wanting to prove himself against Hazel, Ozpin forcibly taking over (which was a real pleasant surprise to him since the old wizard never informed Oscar that he could do that), watching helplessly from captivity within his own mind as Ozpin fought without him, watching helplessly as Ozpin got hurt---got them hurt. The last thing Oscar remembered was Ozpin’s strained voice leaving a message for him to tell Qrow about the Relic.

And all of this culminates in Oscar finally exploding---grunting his frustration over Ozpin just leaving him alone after everything was done---leaving him with his burdens, leaving him with this anger and what was worse for Oscar was that the farm boy didn’t even have the old wizard to vent at.

Because Oz was still resting, Oscar had no outlet for his emotions. The source of all his frustrations wasn’t present to spout more nonsensical gibberish to him. No longer was there a sentient voice in his head to calm him down. No one to reassure him with the answers that could dispel his frustration.

For the first time in over a month, Oscar finally had a clear mind and rather than feeling at ease…he felt angry. Hurt even. Why couldn’t Oz just trust him? Oz wanted him to trust in everything he told him about becoming his successor yet the old wizard couldn’t even trust him to fight on his own! Such a crock!

In all his rage, Oscar slammed his hands on the table so hard he sent his plate barrelling off the dining table, its remaining contents shattering on the train floor. The sudden sound of breaking glass was enough to silence everyone in the mess hall. Ruby felt herself sink in her seat as all eyes fell to her and an infuriated Oscar, his breathing aggravated; not even catering about the mess he’d made. He was even too livid to care about the unwanted attention he’d garnered for him and Ruby.

He did calm down eventually, now sitting before Ruby with his face buried in his hands.

Again, the entire time Ruby had been quiet. Unable to find the right words to say. She had seen Oscar have an outburst before but never one such as this. It was clear that whatever was plaguing Oscar’s emotions presently was so dire that not even twelves stacks of pancakes would be enough to help.

Ruby was even starting to wonder how much she could help. Despite her doubts, Ruby being Ruby still decided to try again to comfort Oscar as she reached over the table to offer the boy a soothing touch.

But as her fingers touched his arm, Oscar immediately brushed it away as he suddenly got to his feet. He told Ruby that he wasn’t hungry anymore as he abandoned her to head off on his own again for some air.

As mentioned, we’ve seen Oscar blow up before whenever the weight of his pent up emotions got the better of him. So another outburst regarding Ozpin and Haven wouldn’t surprise me.

But if V6 is going to focus on Oscar and Ozpin then I want to get those Oscar moments from the start. I’m not even kidding. After pushing him to the background so much last season, I need the new season to give that focus to Oscar from the start. No episode must go without my precious god-son getting some screen time and development.

I welcome angsty Oscar during the start of V6 because I think it’s a nice way to play into his emotions and how he felt after Haven because as a lot of fans have speculated, Oscar shouldn’t be 100% okay with what Ozpin did. If anything, I’d imagine him being more than a little testy.

I’d be more disappointed if V6 starts with Oscar acting like he’s all fine and dandy with everything; as if his experience from Haven didn’t affect him emotionally in the slightest. We got that kind of rubbish for V5. I don’t need it in V6. NO!

Here’s what I think. If we do get a scene where Ruby comes to talk to Oscar and he explodes and goes off on his own, I think a scene like that could lead into this shot here where Oscar seemed to have been standing by a window as the Sphinx Grimm start attacking the train.

Perhaps…Oscar was off on his own blowing off some steam when he suddenly noticed the Grimm attack the train. A transition like that could make sense and it would be nice.

From the first episode, I just want the season to highlight how the events of the Haven Battle have affected Oscar and his emotions especially pertaining to his presence in the group and his relationship with Ozpin. That’s pretty much the gist of what I want to see the most from the first episode. I don’t want to put too many expectations on just the first episode in case I get my hopes up.

…However I do hope we get something to that liking; at least.

Dark in my Imagination

This is going to sound rather sadistic of me to say but what if… for V6, since we will be focusing on Oscar, there is a future scene where Oscar becomes so overwhelmed by everything that's happening to him that he suffers a meltdown. During his meltdown, Oscar becomes so mentally distraught that for a brief moment he even contemplates ending his own life. Now before my fellow Pineheads come at me with your torches for daring to even mention such a thing happening to the precious pinecone, here me out first.

At both the 2018 RWBY RTX and NYCC Panels respectively, it was mentioned that new themes never explored before in RWBY will come to fruition in this season’s narrative. While I’m unsure if the CRWBY Writers are ballsy enough to add themes and other story elements linking to topics on mental health, depression and suicide---nonetheless it’s something that has crossed my mind regarding Oscar.

In one of my RWBY Quotes, I made mention of V6 possibly testing and pushing Oscar both emotionally and psychologically. I already anticipated Oscar having feelings of insecurity over his place on the heroes since outside of his link with Ozpin; he really has no place in this fight against Salem.

Besides being Oz’s successor and being forced to take on his mantle, there is honestly nothing else driving Oscar forward with this except Ozpin.

Sure we had him valiantly behaving like this fight matters to him during the Haven Battle, however…if you take Ozpin away as the voice of conscience driving Oscar to accept his newfound responsibilities and role in the war for humanity, what else is left to motivate Oscar? I was hoping that the next season would cover things like that.

For the most part, I got V6 giving focus to Oscar in his shared story with Ozpin. Awesome sauce. What I didn’t expect, however, is the likeliness of Oscar sharing a link with Salem through Ozpin. That one took me off guard and now that it’s been laid on the table, it’s basically opened up a metaphorical Pandora’s Box of darker potentials for our boy to suffer though this rounds.

I’m repeating this from an answer post to a question left by @miraculouscorazone. I’ve had this small headcanon scene in my mind where Oscar has been having trouble sleeping during the journey to Argus due to persistent nightmares of Salem attacking him in his dreams. The farm boy confides this in Ruby, his only friend and the closest thing to someone he can trust in the group since the remaining members of RWBY pretty much didn’t trust Ozpin too well. And by extension, they didn’t trust Oscar either.

So Ruby being Ruby decides to be helpful to Oscar. One night when he feared Salem might attack him again, Ruby agrees to sleepover in his room. At this point in the journey it was just RWBY and Oscar to brave the elements and guard the Relic. The group of five were currently housed in an abandoned house to wade out the worst of an oncoming blizzard that had been following them for the past few days. It’s the first time the group had settled into a place for more than one day so for the time being everyone did the best to make themselves comfortable and remain positive in light of a dismal situation.

While the girls shared one room together, Oscar, as the sole male among them was left to himself. Alone to his mind; void of Ozpin’s guidance and protection as he was constantly tormented by the looming presence of Salem and her insatiable desire to make him steal the Relic for her. The experience had left Oscar practically a severe insomniac with his condition growing worse the more times his paranoia over Salem got to him. It was even starting to affect his reality outside of the dream world. It was not a pretty time for the farm boy. Just picture Oscar’s condition looking worse than Blake’s in RWBY V2 C6.

This is exactly why Ruby decided to spend the night by Oscar’s side, as her way of helping ease his anxiety. Even if it was just for one night, Ruby spent it remaining very close to Oscar. Originally she just stayed nearby on the couch in Oscar’s room while he slept in his bed. But when the boy woke up screaming again; sweaty, terrified and practically shaking from another nightmare; that’s when Ruby decided that the best way to help Oscar would be to get closer.

So Ruby, being the sympathetic mastermind that she was, hops in bed with Oscar; cradling his exhausted head against her bosom as the two cuddled. It was her next attempt at making him feel secure while providing emotional support.

At first Oscar was very embarrassed by the sudden closeness, having never slept in the same bed with a girl who wasn’t his mother since he was a child.

Still, he was very grateful for Ruby’s kindness and her warmth beside him was more than a welcomed company he appreciated in the moment. So our two titular smaller, more honest souls settle in for some rest.

It was the start of what Oscar had prayed would be a better night. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Oscar suffers a second horrific nightmare. This time in his dream, he is haunted by a crazed, monstrous Salem who subdues Oscar, pinning him arms down. In his nightmare, Oscar is so traumatized that his own fear rendered him immobilized and exposed to Salem’s torture.

Nightmare Salem then proceeded to wrap her hands around Oscar’s throat and squeeze the life out of him.

As Dream Oscar succumbed to his hypoxia, Oscar is suddenly stirred awake by a pair of arms pulling him roughly off the bed. Though in his dreams, he was the one being strangled; in reality…Oscar had been strangling Ruby the entire time.

On Ruby’s end, the Silver-Eyed Girl recounted sleeping soundly hugging Oscar before she suddenly felt a pair of hands grab her by the throat. When she realized that the culprit was in fact Oscar, she was too stunned to fight back so all she could do was cry out in pain from strangulation.

Ruby’s screams of restraint alerted her sister Yang and her teammates who immediately came barging into Oscar’s room. The sight they saw was horrifying.

From their perspective, they met Oscar straddling Ruby with his hands clasped firmly around the girl’s neck squeezing tightly as she gasped hoarsely and clawed at his arms under his weight.

As Blake managed to pull Oscar off of Ruby, Weiss and Yang immediately ran to Ruby who had retreated to the floor, coughing and clutching her aching throat, face stained with tears as she tried desperately to catch her breath.

Oscar is…of course mortified by what he had done. He had thought…it was Salem. He thought Salem had attacked him. He didn’t realize. He didn’t mean…Oscar tried to explain himself; tried to apologize.

But the damage had already been done. The instant Oscar made the slightest advance towards Ruby, an infuriated Yang Xiao Long immediately turned on him. Her blood red eyes were ablaze with absolute fury as the huntress snapped at Oscar to not step a foot near her sister.

Weiss seconded this as she herself cradled Ruby in her arms protectively, glaring warningly at Oscar.

Oscar then turned his eyes on Blake. Unlike her teammates, Blake was the only who didn’t appear angry. As a matter of fact, she looked more horrified at Oscar above anything else. Eventually the Faunus’ initial shock dissolved into impassiveness as Blake looked sternly at Oscar. Doing her best to tranquilize the situation, Blake removed Oscar from the room.

Ruby could do nothing more than watch Blake calmly escorted a contrite Oscar, belching one tearful apology to Ruby after another outside. Ruby tried her best to speak up for Oscar---to say something that could help ease him.

But her efforts were made fruitless by her throbbing throat which now appeared bruised and swollen. Weiss and Yang immediately silenced the young girl as they tended to her trauma.

As for Blake. The Faunus girl had managed to pull Oscar as far as Team RWBY’s room. Not that the former farmhand had given her much resistance. He had gone discomfortingly silent since they left his room. Still Blake paid this no heed as she pushed Oscar inside. She warned Oscar to not make the situation worse for himself, implying that if he really cared about Ruby then he would just stay put where he was.

With that, the Faunus left the room to re-join her team at Ruby’s side, closing the door in on a distressed Oscar. The minute Blake left him, Oscar’s knees gave way and he slumped to the floor. The boy did nothing further than just stare blankly at the door, his memories replaying the events of the night in horrific slow-motion as his mind spiralled downward into a dim depression at what he had done---at what she had made him do to one person he cared about.

That’s one scene that played out in my head.

Six Feet From the Edge

I also have another scene in my head where Oscar succumbs to his negative emotions and runs away.

This takes place during the aftermath of my last scene where Oscar overhears the girls (mainly Weiss and Yang) discussing plans to possibly leave him behind as they continued towards Argus.

It is early morning with sunrise drawing near when RWBY are still huddled together inside Oscar’s room.

Though Yang and Weiss had done a decent first aid on Ruby who sat with her neck covered in bandages; it didn’t help to make light of the situation. The gist is this. Things weren’t looking good for Oscar. While Ruby remained adamant on advocating for the farm boy, her teammates were now more convinced that they just couldn’t trust him.

Given the stunt he pulled. Given everything they discovered about him in respect to Ozpin and Salem---at this point, everyone was on the same page that they couldn’t take Oscar to Atlas with them. They weren’t even sure if he could be trusted the rest of the way to Argus.

He was too much of a liability and the verdict was to leave him behind. Though Ruby did her best to defend on Oscar’s behalf, in the end, she was outvoted by her own team. Oscar was to be left behind.

While the other girls went downstairs to start on breakfast (since no one was tired to sleep given the night before), Ruby was left alone to heal. The Silver Eyed girl sees this as a golden chance to sneak off and check in on Oscar.

Since the event, Yang had practically forbidden her from speaking to the farm boy. So for the most part, Oscar had been left unsupervised for several hours while the others took care of her. This worried Ruby because in all the hysteria, no one catered to check in on Oscar. He was all alone and this left Ruby very concerned for his mental state especially after what happened.

Of course, Ruby finds Oscar gone. She immediately alerts the other girls of this development. At once Yang checks to make sure if the Relic had been taken. Fortunately the Relic was still safe and sound near Ruby’s bed I like the idea of Oscar having an opportunity to steal the Relic but choosing not to.

Like what if…Salem had attempted to take advantage of Oscar’s stress to torment him into stealing the Relic again? Just like last time, Oscar fights against the influence and after overhearing WBY’s decision to leave him behind, he escapes outside.

With the Relic safe, Ruby suggests that the group find Oscar immediately. But to Ruby’s dismay, her teammates didn’t look so keen on wanting to help her find the missing farm boy. Disgusted and ashamed at her friends’ lack of concern for Oscar, Ruby leaves on her own. Before anyone could stop her, Ruby grabs her trademark hood and uses her semblance to zip out the door and into the morning snow to find Oscar.

In my head, Ruby was able to track Oscar thanks to his footprints left in the snow. Long story short, her search brings her to the edge of a frozen lake where Oscar is just sitting; hunched over with his back turned, near its edge…a little too close to the edge for Ruby’s comfort. As Ruby approached the boy slowly, she could hear soft whimpers escape his lips. Oscar had been crying.

I just want Ruby Rose to say four magical words that I believe Oscar really needs to hear from her. And no, it isn’t “I love you, Oscar”. Too early. It’s “I’m here for YOU.”

If Oscar is due for some kind of an emotional breakdown for V6, then I believe what the farm boy would need to hear the most is that someone is on his side.

If I had to guess, part of Oscar’s story this season is going to be him coping with the burdens of being judged and held responsible for all of Ozpin’s past crimes.

Because of this, I’d imagine that Oscar would feel very alone. Like nobody cares about his feelings in all of this or his well-being because everyone just looks to him as Ozpin; not even recognizing that he is his own person completely innocent in the matter. He’ll probably endure a bit of that prejudice from characters like Weiss and Yang; more specifically Yang.

Don’t get me wrong; I like Yang very much as a character. However, as of the events of V5 with the seeds of doubt implanted in her by her mother, I’m now left to believe that she is the one to oppose Ozpin/Oscar the most.

I think what will be one of Oscar’s biggest fears this season is everyone turning their backs on him and abandoning him. This is why I believe Ozpin wouldn’t be around much. I still think that Ozpin’s resting phase is just as serious as the V5 finale foreshadowed it to be.

I stand by my hunch that Ozpin’s presence may not be as vocal as he was last season. I don’t think he’ll be there to guide Oscar; and without Ozpin to act as a shield against Salem, this leaves Oscar exposed and completely vulnerable to whatever eerie hold the wicked witch had on Oz.

Through her supposed link with Ozpin, I think Salem will seek to prey on Oscar’s fears and anxieties, making them manifest in haunting nightmares that plague the young man’s psyche. Couple that together with the enormous pressure of Oscar carrying all of Ozpin’s responsibilities and baggage. Combine it with the animosity and distrust he could sense from certain members on the hero team along with his own life being endangered by foes blaming him for the things Ozpin did. Now add a dash of the fact that Oscar is still very premature the whole huntsmen routine.

I doubt the group will have much time for training practice on the voyage to Argus. So this will leave Oscar probably feeling even more like an encumbrance to everyone because he can’t fight. Oh and let’s not forget the small detail from the V6 trailer that Oscar also apparently lost or is at the very least separated from the Oz-cane.

Many fans have pointed out that Oscar didn’t have the trademark weapon. This is strange since everyone else had their weapons. Unless this is some kind of animation error then Oscar will be powerless of the season.

I actually find this sort of peculiar since, they made Oscar inherit the Oz-cane officially in V5 only to lose it in the next volume. What? I think some of Qrow’s misfortune might’ve rubbed off on Oscar because that is unlucky as hell.

So on a long voyage, Oscar is stuck defenceless with no means of fighting on his own in the company of a group of huntsmen where the ratio of people who trust Ozpin and/or believe in his skills are almost zero (with the exception of one). Not to mention that there is some weirdness happening to him caused by a combination of either his link with Ozpin, the Relic of Knowledge or to the farm boy’s dismay, Salem.

All of that is a one fine Molotov cocktail for Oscar to lose his shit and have a meltdown. I’m honestly curious to know if the CRWBY Writers would ever include a moment in RWBY where a character attempts suicide. I mean, we’ve had character be murdered more than once on screen in the show. Would showing a main character having suicidal thoughts due to mental instability be something they would add to the story too?

Since my focal character is Oscar, let’s look at him.

Imagine…Oscar becoming so overcome by his fears at the hands of Salem messing with his mind along with everyone’s mistrust that at some point, he just…decides to end it all.

Picture Oscar being brought to such distraught that for moment…even if it’s just a split second, he contemplates death as a noteworthy means of escape.

Even with RWBY’s more mature themes, I doubt the CRWBY would ever go that far. But since this is a musing, this squiggle meister is free to play around with the concept.

Fellow Pineheads, I apologize for the following angst. Let’s resume the scene I was describing earlier, shall we?

So Ruby finds the runaway Oscar near an icy frozen lake.

Ruby tries to approach the unsuspecting Oscar cautiously. However she accidentally steps on a twig left in the snow; causing the distressed Oscar to turn in the direction of the encroaching intruder. At the sight of Ruby, Oscar jumped to his feet and before Ruby could stop him, the boy dashes onto the ice with Ruby being forced to give chase.

Oscar only managed to make it as far as the middle of the lake before Ruby used her semblance to zip ahead of him blocking his path. Oscar collapsed to the ice.

Ruby offers Oscar her hand to help him up only to wince as he slaps away, instead choose to crawl across the ice as far from Ruby as possible.

Again, Ruby makes an attempt to reach out to Oscar, still determined to help him. However, the instance Ruby’s movements shifted, as if on queue, the ice cracked beneath her feet. Nervously, Ruby cautiously tiptoed away from the damage. She urged Oscar to once more to take her hand, assuring him that she would transport them both to safety with her semblance.

However, for a second time, Oscar refuses Ruby’s hand. He treated away from her, begging her to not come near him. This of course, causes the ice surrounding Oscar to collapse too. If he persisted being as reckless as he was, he was guaranteed to fall to a freezing death.

Ruby was determined not to let that happened. She herself tried not to make much movement, being careful not to spread the damage to her side as she took cautious steps towards Oscar. With her attention going back and forth between Oscar and the deadly ice, Ruby practically begs Oscar to take her hand.

Unfortunately for Ruby, Oscar was far gone at that point. He was so upset that it was painful to watch the state that her friend had succumbed to. Still Ruby kept trying to edge closer to Oscar but the more she tried to help him, the more he retreated away from her.

It was as if he was scared to have her near him. Frightened of what he could do to her if the other evil lurking within him were to suddenly take over again. Oscar didn’t want to hurt her again. He didn’t want to hurt anyone.

At some point, Yang, Blake and Weiss eventually catch up to Ruby. As the three girls came close enough to help, Ruby turned and told them not to come any closer. She didn’t want anything else triggering Oscar as Ruby was certain that her teammates were the last people Oscar wanted help from.

Unfortunately her assumptions proved correct. When Weiss offered to assist Ruby across the ice with her semblance so that she could get to him more effectively but this erupts in Oscar snapping at her.

In a fit of rage and frustration, Oscar reminds Weiss of the way she and the others treated him--- that every ounce of doubt and loathing they’ve expressed towards him and Ozpin over their voyage was warranted. They had every right not to trust Ozpin. They had no right to trust him or even care about him. Everyone wants him to be more like Ozpin and admittedly, Oscar tried.

He gave it his all to be a good successor to Oz but he failed. He tried to brave like Ozpin but he failed. He tried to be powerful like Ozpin but he failed. He tried to be wise like Ozpin but he failed.

Funnily enough, the only achievement that Oscar was able to mimic from Oz was his failure. Just like Oz, the farm boy unintentionally managed to tear everyone apart, put them all in danger and paint himself to be a snake. So perhaps in a state of irony, Oscar was just like Ozpin after all

So then maybe… if Oscar is just like Ozpin…then perhaps he deserved to be exactly where Ozpin was…

This is the scene I’ve envisioned. A little overdramatic but can anyone else see this happening for Oscar?

Think about it. Having Ozpin in his head and living with the pressures of his past sins is one thing for Oscar. But being tortured and manipulated by Salem from within as well. Being forced to hurt the one person who actually trusted you because of Salem. That’s a lot for one to take especially one so young and fragile like Oscar.

I doubt we’ll get something like this for V6 could you imagine if we did?

As a shameless as I am to admit, I wouldn’t mind if a scene like this does become canon. Why? Because if Oscar does go off the deep end then I believe something like that could inspire Ruby to give one of the most profound and powerful speeches yet.

Picture this, if you will. Imagine…Oscar’s suicidal thoughts push him further and further away; his chances of rescue diminishing as the ice underneath him continues to crumble along with his sanity.

As this happens, Weiss, Yang and Blake are rendered practically incapable of assisting. Even if they wanted to, this would only endanger the emotionally unstable Oscar even further.

This now left Ruby as their only hope.

As for Ruby. The entire time Oscar is talking, the Silver-Eyed huntress has been trying desperately to say something. Because she was still healing from the trauma to her neck, she was finding it difficult to speak much.

But the moment the prospect of suicide actually slipped from Oscar’s lip…that’s when Ruby finally snapped

Mustering every ounce of resolve she had in her, Ruby dug deep and finally found her voice as she screamed Oscar’s name across the ice in a cry that cut the through the tense moment like a death scythe.

All eyes fell to Ruby, including Oscar’s. At the sound of her voice…for the first time since she’d found him, Oscar finally locked eyes with Ruby, his glossy hazel eyes twinkling with the last inkling of sanity he had left in his tired body.

Spark

Picture…Ruby giving a classic Ruby Rose speech. Picture her telling Oscar that he’s nothing like Ozpin. He’s like her. Every emotion or thought that he’s feeling or has felt, she’s been through it.

He’s a young huntsman who feels like he doesn’t know what he’s doing half the time yet everyone around him trusts him to be the one with the plan because they’re the leader. Ruby has felt that.

People expect him to be like someone who is deceased because they share the same power even though they don’t know anything about said hidden power they’re supposed to master and know how to control. Ruby has feels that all the time being the successor to her mother as the next Silver Eyed Warrior.

Picture…Ruby explaining that the reason she cares so much about Oscar is because she sees so much of herself in him. They are one and the same which is why she wouldn’t let him go through what he’s going through alone. Ruby was blessed enough to have the support of her loved ones to push her through the dark times; which is why she wants to do the same for Oscar. She understands that he must feel the most alone in all of this which is she why wants to be there for him.

Be everything she can for him. A friend---Best friend even. A trusted confidant. A shoulder to cry on. A partner to train with. A warm body to snuggle next to on those nights he can’t sleep or just someone to talk to in general. She’ll be anything he needs because she wants to be there for him.

Ruby is there for Oscar. Even when his world descends into darkness, she will always be there, standing with her arms outstretched ready to welcome him back into the light. Basically, Ruby will be to Oscar, what Sun was to Blake back during the events of V4. At least that’s what I’m hoping for in their budding friendship.

I want something like this from the new season because I’d like to see Ruby talk to Oscar and reveal that she too has been in the exact same position as him once upon a time.

We’ve all heard that Ruby has always wanted to be a huntress from Yang. But what if…unbeknownst to Yang, there was a time when Ruby actually contemplated not becoming a huntress anymore. She wanted to quit her childhood dream completely when she felt she couldn’t cut it at combat school.

Remember back in V1 when Ruby first met Ozpin, she told him and Glynda that she was, quote, ‘complete garbage’ at being a huntress until Qrow took her under his wing and trained her into the master scythe-wielder she is today.

What if… during her training days at Signal Academy, Ruby was having a hard time---so much so that she even desired to drop out. Neither her father nor her sister knew of this because at the time she was too ashamed to admit it to anyone, even herself at times. It didn’t take too long for her Uncle Qrow to notice Ruby’s apprehension on her huntress training especially when it began correlating with her frequent absenteeism from school.

Didn’t Qrow once say he used to be a teacher at Signal Academy before resigning? Correct me if I’m wrong. All I can recall is Qrow mentioning that he quit teaching. Not sure if it was at Signal.

But if it was, I’m wondering now if the teaching position Tai Yang currently fills used to belong to Qrow before he decided to work for Ozpin fulltime. Anyways, after Ruby spilled the beans on her struggles at school to her uncle, that’s when Qrow agreed to help her with her training under the condition that she returned to school and finished what she started. It’s a promise Ruby kept and the rest, as we know it, is history.

I would love for a moment like this to happen or at least something of the liking so that it could lead into heartfelt moments---moments where the remaining members of RWBY can finally understand the unfairness they put Oscar through due to their doubts in Ozpin. Who knows? Perhaps it can even encourage Weiss, Yang and Blake to each reach out and connect to Oscar in their own unique way.

I think that could be quite nice and great for Oscar’s own characterization. Up until this point, Oscar has only been associated with the heroes due to his ties as Ozpin’s successor. Now this season is his chance to develop his own bonds with everyone and really find his own place amongst the team that completely deviates from Ozpin.

Ruby wouldn’t be who she was if she didn’t have people to believe in her; not just in honing her abilities but also helping her believe in herself. When she needed it the most, she received a helping hand which is exactly what she can offer to Oscar.

She will become the light of his life. The spark in his darkness to keep him going. If I had to think of one song that perfectly encompasses how I fell Oscar will soon come to feel about Ruby, it’s definitely the song: Falling in Love by Falling Up.

I strongly believe Oscar is going to fall in love with Ruby and love will most likely become his main driving force in this fight against Salem. Sure he has his responsibilities as an Ozpin. But it most consists of things that Ozpin wants to fight for. But Oscar, what does Oscar want to fight for? Who does Oscar want to fight for? Who does Oscar want to protect above anything else that he will be willing to put his life on the line for such a cause?

Love is one of the aforementioned themes highlighted in Salem’s monologue during the V6 trailer. Can fans expect love to be a prominent element in Oscar’s development for the new season? Who knows?

To conclude my scene imagination, eventually Ruby talks Oscar out of his attempted suicide and the two share an embrace with Oscar pouring his eyes out and asking Ruby why she cared so much about him.

To my fellow Potter heads in the FNDM community, remember how in Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them, when Jacob Kowalski asked Newt Scamander why he kept him in his company throughout their adventure, Newt’s honest response was: “…Because I like you. Because you’re my friend.”

I want Ruby to say something like that to Oscar. I just want Oscar to ask Ruby why she even cares about him and her honest to God answer is just simply: because she likes Oscar and because he has become one of the people she values above herself and will give her all to protect. Oscar is her friend.

This response actually makes Oscar crack a smile, the first smile he’s had in a long while. Ruby and Oscar then return to their house together.

That night, for a second time, Ruby stays by Oscar’s side again. She doesn’t cuddle with him this time, respecting the boy’s wishes to not have her sleep so close to him again since he was still feeling the guilt of what happened last time. Ruby does offer Oscar her hand though.

She also keeps repeating the phrase ‘you and me’ to Oscar. No matter what happens, it’s Ruby and Oscar against the world even if the others say otherwise. This then prompts Oscar to ask Ruby what they were together to which Ruby replies that they are just two smaller more honest souls forced with a lot of responsibility. That being said, she assures Oscar that in spite of this, everything should be ok since they have each other.

With that, the two rest. The next morning, Ruby awakens to discover Oscar snuggling next to her. Apparently her hand wasn’t enough to suffice and he has subconsciously nudged himself closer to her during the night. Now the farm boy slept almost face to face to Ruby, her hand hugged against his freckled cheek as if clinging to it as his last lifeline and source of comfort from a tiresome suffering. But for the most part, to Ruby’s relief, it was the first night Oscar had slept soundly through without a single nightmare.

The notion I had here was for Oscar’s nightmares with Salem to be symbolic of his anxiety. Perhaps what us fans saw in the V6 trailer was only a ruse and there is no psychic link with Salem. Perhaps Salem’s manifestation inside Oscar’s head is just his fears taking her shape inside his mind because she is his qualms and negative emotions personified.

But after Ruby reassured him that she was going to stand by him no matter what, he no longer felt such trepidation. Now that Oscar knew he had someone, the young man felt secure. Befriended and loved. At peace within himself at long last.

That’s the idea.

Rebirthing

Transformation is a theme that represents everything about Oscar. Oscar is currently fourteen-years old. In most media I’ve indulged in, fourteen years is often the set age in a coming of age story. Not only is Oscar a young boy (the first young boy character in a lead role in RWBY, mind you) on the cusp of manhood. But he is also on the cusp of becoming an Ozpin. Strangely enough, one can even tie the symbolism of Oscar merging with Ozpin to him growing from a boy into a man. A child becoming an adult.

It’s why I liked the concept of frogs being the perfect favoured animal to represent Oscar. According to @nykamito, frogs symbolize transformation.

That being said, I think V6 could be Oscar’s coming of age story or at least, the final chapter in the story that began for him since the fourth season. RWBY Theorist @greekgeekgoddess made a point about the V6 trailer alluding to Oscar’s inevitable fusion with Ozpin. I actually thought the merging of the two souls process wasn’t going to occur until a later volume after the dynamic between Oscar and Ozpin was more established.

However, if GGG’s theory is proven correct and the CRWBY Writers do plan on tackling the merging in V6 then I honestly wouldn’t mind this at all.

As a matter of fact, now that I think about it, it’s kind of fitting. If there was one thing I’ve been anticipating for the sixth season is that its plot provides a proper conclusion to Oscar’s story. I did say once that Oscar’s story started in Mistral so therefore, before the gang depart for Atlas, his part of Mistral storyline should wrap up while it’s still in that kingdom, if that makes sense.

Though not confirmed by the CRWBY, I’m assuming that Argus is a town in the Northern side of Anima which is nearest to the continent of Solitas. So my guess is that the gang will be heading to Argus in order to rendezvous with a transport that can take them all the way to Atlas via airship. That makes more sense in my head than the group just taking a train all the way to Atlas when continental transportation via train hasn’t been recognized in the World of Remnant.

So for V6, the group are still in Mistral making V6 the aforementioned final chapter in the Mistral Arc and the opening prologue to the Atlas Arc.

I figured the last chapter in Oscar’s story in Mistral would’ve more involved him getting one last chance to be with his family and give a proper send off to his lifestyle back home on the farm as our veteran farm boy finally comes to accept his role as both a huntsman and an Ozpin.

I just never pegged his transformation to come this soon. But y’know what, if it does happen that way it’s not an issue for me. Since part of Oscar’s fate is to eventually merge with Ozpin and the two become one complete being then…why prolong that for several seasons?

At least this way, if Oscar is reborn as the Wizard in V6, there won’t be this impending tension in the air for his inevitable fate from the fandom. If Oscar goes through the change this volume and comes out as a new version of himself, imbued with Ozpin’s past memories, wisdom and power but is still very much the Oscar Pine we all know and love at heart, then I’ll be fine with this.

The compelling part would be watching the transformation process take place, and witnessing first-hand what that involves for an incarnation of Ozpin. Somehow I’m foreseeing part of Oscar’s struggle this season being him growing through all these changes in his body, more psychologically than physically and without Oz being present to shed light on what’s happening to him, this only serves to make the young man more confused and traumatized. Not to mention that I can also foresee Oscar heavily resisting this change.

After all, I wouldn’t be surprised if Oscar would be resistant on merging with Ozpin, not only out of the mistrust the old wizard has garnered from other characters but additionally Oscar himself. You cannot tell me that Oscar will be totally cool with Oz after what he did at Haven. I doubt that.

For me, I anticipate Oscar’s involvement in the plot revolving mostly around his internal struggles with Ozpin; learning the truth about his true nature---learning about his past, understanding his connection to Salem and then coming to terms with all that. I do believe the final outcome will portray Oscar coming out of this ordeal as a much stronger and more well-rounded character than he was for the past two seasons.

V6 is the chance for the CRWBY Writers to truly flesh out Oscar’s character, filling in all those missing details about him that the Pineheads want to see while giving us a character journey that truly transforms him for the better. Not sure how they’ll accomplish all that in the span of only fourteen episodes while juggling other character plots but we’ll see what goes down when the season starts.

If the merging occurs this season, then one thing that I’m taking from it is that, this could spell the last time Ozpinheads fans get to hear Shannon McCormick voice Ozpin outside of RWBY Chibi. When Oz finally merges with Oscar, his presence will officially cease to exist and it will be Oscar left to carry on his legacy and finish his story for good by accomplishing what he and the other Ozpins were unable to achieve.

When the transformation is complete, the mantle of Ozpin will be passed onto Oscar. If this happens then I hope we

get a passing of the torch type of scene where Oscar meets the previous Ozpin in his mind. Who knows? Maybe Oscar will get to meet all the past Ozpins including the Original.

The CRWBY Writers did acknowledge that all the past Ozpins had names so perhaps we can learn them this volume.

If I had to imagine a scene such as this, then I can picture it being similar to Legend of Korra when Korra met Aang for the first time and got to see all the past Avatars before her.

Picture Oscar surrounded by all the past incarnations of Ozpin, all looking to him with proud smiles. One by one each of the past Ozpins speak to Oscar but as one spoke, they changed into the next Ozpin in the cycle like a domino effect where each incarnate got to say a part of a message left to Oscar. Eventually it came down the line to the most recent and recognized version of Ozpin---the Headmaster of Beacon.

He was the last to speak to Oscar before he changed into the Original Ozpin. Placing his hands on Oscar’s shoulders, Ozpin the First greets the boy with a smile. He tells Oscar of how proud he and the others were of his growth and maturation throughout his development for V6. And now, because of this, the old wizard knows that he can alas join with him as the boy is now ready.

Oscar is ready to become the Wizard and with that…he and Ozpin fuse and become one.

Remember the point I made earlier about wanting a scene where Oscar calls his aunt in the finale episode? If we do get Oscar calling his aunt in the first episode before the departure to Argus then there will need to be a parallel of it in the finale episode if possible or at least before the heroes head for Atlas officially.

This hasn’t been done yet for a volume but I’d love for a voiceover monologue done by Oscar for a season finale. Thus far, we’ve had mostly Salem and Ruby. If Oscar and Ozpin are the key characters in V6 then they gotta do a voice over monologue with Oscar and Ozpin. They just gotta.

Visualize it with me. A finale scene where Oscar calls home to his family from Argus. He leaves them a long heartfelt message describing his journey with the huntsmen for V6; all the struggles he’s faced and how the whole event has changed him as a person.

Oscar then concludes the message by calling back to what his aunt told him about her worrying that he might be a completely different person with Oscar revealing that he has changed but he assures his aunt that the person he is now is definitely someone that she can be proud of or something along those lines.

The way I’m imagining this scene is that we just hear Oscar talking but we never see him until after the call. The scene then ends with Ruby coming to find Oscar again, announcing that the airship had arrived to take everyone safely to Atlas. We then get Ruby asking Oscar if he’s all set to go.

With a smile, Oscar replies with a confidant, “Yeah, I’m ready” as the camera pans out to reveal him fully clad in his new official huntsman attire to finally replace his farm boy threads.

If V6 is going to focus on Oscar’s story and him coming into his newfound role and self as an Ozpin then what fitting way to end the season for us Pineheads than to have the reveal of Oscar’s huntsman outfit. Please CRWBY! I really, really, REALLY want this to happen now. I want my boi looking fresh and fine for the Atlas Arc.

I honestly think that V6 could end with the reveal of Oscar in his new threads and new attitude as he is finally the Wizard---the culmination of both Oscar and Ozpin.

This is the change that Ozpin was alluding to last season.

The change being Oscar. Oscar will become the new Ozpin but not in a way that suggests that Ozpin completely takes over Oscar. On the contrary, I believe the two will be more in sync than they have ever been before. He’s still very much Oscar but there’s also Ozpin within him as well.

The old Ozpin we once knew will be gone now but he will live on inside of Oscar. The two are one after all. Complete and at long last, the Wizard is finally here.

To conclude…

Alrighty, so I’m definitely jumping the gun on a lot of stuff here. I could be completely wrong about all of this but y’know what, who cares? These are Oscar-centric theories that this squiggle meister really, REALLY wanted to share before V6 premieres this weekend. If any of these somehow manage to be canon for the new season, then more power to the CRWBY.

On a different note, @parrot-with-a-mohawk, I know I promised for my response to your musing to be my fiftieth theory post. However with all the hype surrounding Oscar after the V6 trailer drop, I needed to channel all my Pinehead thoughts into one final post about the precious as gold freckled farm boy before the new season. At least now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, I can now resume focus on yours which will be up next.

In the meantime, as always, I hope everyone enjoys this post; specially my fellow Pineheads. I’d love to hear what you guys think about some of the ideas mentioned in my post. Please let me know your thoughts about my thoughts if you can and as always, see you fellow FNDM fam in my next RWBY Musing.

More Squiggles’ RWBY Content

~LittleMissSquiggles (2018)

#rwby #oscar pine #rwby theories #rwby volume 6 theories #ruby rose #rwby v6 predictions #rwby musings

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bakarikillmonger · 6 years

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Intersex!T’Challa test (NSFW 18+ T’Cherik, Explicit)

I really like the idea of intersex T’Challa so I thought I’d try writing it. And it’s a smut test, as well as getting used to writing in past tense again. I’ve added Erik’s outfit, y’all are gonna have to use your imagination for T’Challa’s.

Erik and Sam went to the gym every day without rest apart from Sunday, Sunday was Sam’s day to relax his muscles. Sam wore a grey jumper and sage shorts whereas Erik wore something more professional for a gym – a black utility shirt, utility pants and underneath compressive tights. Wanting to focus beforehand Erik pushed his earphones in before they left the car and started his playlist with Kendrick Lamar’s DNA. When they walked in Sam started on the treadmill to work on cardio so he could keep up with his friend who he always felt had some sort of enhanced advantage and left Erik to begin on the weights.

Erik sat on the machine, spreading his arms to get a grip on both ends of the machine and began pushing his hands together. Working out gave Erik something to vent his frustrations into something productive and he enjoyed it. After a minute he increased the weight of the weights getting bored with not having a challenge and soon he began to feel the sweat form on his body. When he continued his shirt only got damper and it absorbed the sweat well in comparison to his previous shirt which clung to his body and caused frustration. Now he was listening to MGK’s Alpha Omega and he began to push harder.

His mind was focused and driven to exceed his limits. The music pushed him and he frowned with every rep, every push came with a grunt until he was finished and he leaned back panting and sweating heavily. When he opened his eyes, his focus disappeared and it was not because he had stopped working out. It was because of who he saw walk into the gym. He had no idea who this stranger was but he couldn’t stop looking.

His eyes trailed from the knees up and Erik couldn’t help but stare at this man. His beautifully dark skin that had a glow to it, his thighs, even his waist. The man was wearing a sleeveless dark grey compression shirt and black compression tights and when he swiveled his body Erik got a chance to appreciate the man’s behind. But he felt disrespectful for looking and worried he’d get caught so he resumed working out by going to the punching bag. He swung and ducked as if the bag were a real person and threw every punch with power so each thud could be heard beyond the music he was listening to. But again, he found himself distracted shortly after.

Now this man was stretching his body like he was doing yoga. His arms spread across and his legs were spread to a distant, then he moved his hands upwards before reaching down and when he did, Erik felt his jaw drop. This man had an amazing ass and Erik couldn’t think straight once he first caught a glimpse. He stared like an idiot until the man finished stretching and turned, catching Erik turn his head straight away. Erik felt the heat in his cheeks and felt stupid but he looked again and the man was still looking at him. But this time he had a curious expression and a smile.

“Fuck, there’s no getting out of this...” Erik moaned to himself. He approached the man and once again found himself in a spell over his body. He cleared his throat awkwardly and stood within distance across the man. If he got too close the stranger would probably hear the lust in his mind. “Wassup? I couldn’t help but notice you staring at me.”

The man couldn’t hold his laugh and extended a hand.

“I am sure it was the other way around? My name is T’Challa,” the stranger introduced.

Erik knew he had been caught and chuckled, scratching the back of his head. His accent was beautiful, deep and strong. It was full of confidence and also sexiness.

“I’m Erik. Erik Stevens. Sorry about staring, but you have a really good body!” Erik insisted. He wasn’t lying either. T’Challa looked with embarrassment as if he didn’t want Erik to know how much the compliment meant to him. The corner of his mouth twitched and raised into a smirk which allowed Erik to identify that T’Challa was interested.

“Thank you, you are in good shape yourself,” T’Challa added. Erik bit his lip and grinned after which gave T’Challa a glimpse of his golden dentures, shiny highlights in two rows of crystal white, perfect teeth. With one hand he moved his dreads out of his face and looked at T’Challa’s curls. How good it would feel to run his fingers through them. How luxurious they must have smelt. It drove him crazy not knowing what it felt and smelt like to act on these thoughts so he clenched his jaw and went for it.

“I...uh...thank you, firstly. Would you maybe...wanna go out sometime?” Erik asked. He was kicking himself mentally but it seemed to impress T’Challa who stood there with an eager smile on his face and narrow eyes that examined the man in front of him.

“I’d like that Erik. I-”

Erik heard a faint vibration and watched T’Challa reach into his tights, under the compression shorts and read ‘Under Armour’ as T’Challa pulled a phone out and answered it. Fuck did he want to be that phone resting against T’Challa’s waist.

“Hello? Yes Bucky, I fed Toby. He’s probably running around somewhere, you know how cats are. Uh...fine, I will be there soon.”

He hung up the phone and raised his shirt to wedge the phone in his shorts again which kept Erik’s mind flowing with imagination.

“Sorry about that, my roommate and I have a cat, and it’s more problematic than it should be. I must go now but if you want we can arrange something tomorrow?”

Erik turned to Sam who was still working out.

“Do you have to go so soon? I’m sure it won’t get lost...” Erik pleaded, smirking and rubbing T’Challa’s arm. The touch made T’Challa’s hairs stand on his arms.

“I-I really should,” he insisted but he knew he felt something else. He couldn’t fight his urges as he kept looking at Erik and gave in. “Oh Bast...let’s go...”

The cat could wait. Or get lost. It was his roommate's anyway.

T’Challa practically dragged Erik to the changing room and Erik found an ‘Out of Order’ sign on the floor. His eyes flared and a devilish grin formed as he hung it on the outside and locked the door.

“Hello?” Erik asked loudly, looking around for anyone and nobody was in sight. T’Challa took his shirt off and so did Erik. They approached each other slowly and fused their lips, kissing passionately enough to move their hands down to the other man’s waist. Erik moved down from T’Challa’s lips to his neck, then chest, concluding at the stomach and slowly rested T’Challa on a wooden bench. “Try not to make too much noise, aight?”

Erik began rubbing T’Challa’s thighs at a low pace, and it earned him multiple moans from T’Challa. His hands traced the thick, warm meat back and forth, caressing with delicacy. His palms were gentle but firm enough to get a noise from T’Challa who bit his lip and frowned to minimize the noise. The squeezes that occurred randomly nearly made him buck as they felt so good. Erik wanted to get under the tights but this was good enough. His trailing hands worked wonders on T’Challa and he felt himself becoming susceptible to gratitude in his tights. Erik was making him hard, and wet too.

“Fuck...that’s so hot...you-your hands are so good,” T’Challa stuttered, coming under the spell of Erik’s caressing.

“You like that huh? These thick thighs are beautiful as fuck, I just wanna touch them forever...”

Once his hands reached the inside of his thighs, T’Challa had to use a hand to contain the noises he was capable of releasing. Erik squeezed again and T’Challa hissed because this was torture. He was on the brink of climaxing and screaming already, and he hadn’t even taken his tights off. Erik noticed the bulge aching to be tended to, retracing its shape pushing against T’Challa’s tights with his hands. T’Challa felt the tingling sensation between his legs enhance, and he was getting wetter. Erik moved down and felt a wet patch, grinning at the feeling of damp between T’Challa’s legs.

“Shit, you’re wet as fuck right now. You need me to help you?"

T’Challa nodded in a submissive state, almost ashamed of how desperate he was to cum.

“Say it...say you need to cum.”

T’Challa panted and looked at Erik with pleading eyes.

“Please...I need to cum!” T’Challa hissed. He felt his dick twitch-scratch that, throb, and his pussy was aching for Erik’s treatment. Erik rubbed his hand over T’Challa’s wetness and caressed, pushing him to arch his back. His hands paced back and forth, rubbing firmly and causing T’Challa to moan loudly. Erik stopped for a second and pulled T’Challa’s tights and shorts down to his knees, sticking his finger in the small pool of moisture in the middle of the bunched-up clothes.

“So wet...”

Erik pushed his thumb against the clit, rubbing and circling the thumb against it which made T’Challa almost breathless. When he pushed two fingers into T’Challa with no words, T’Challa felt overwhelmed and made a noise that made Erik want to cum. T’Challa couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed Erik’s dreads, arching his back as much as he could when Erik used his other hand to grab his member. He was being fingered and jerked off, and now there was no hiding the noises.

“Fuck! Fuck!”

“Shhh, baby...” Erik chuckled, knowing how difficult it was for T’Challa to oblige. He picked up the speed with his fingers and T’Challa felt his legs go weak, his face was so hot right now and he was a moaning mess. With his legs wide open, T’Challa wanted to close up but couldn’t, Erik trapped one leg around his left shoulder and the other foot was in an open locker, pushing against the base of it. His fingers went so, so fast now and T’Challa was grunting and moaning, pulling on Erik dreads and his other hand dug into the skin on Erik’s back. But he didn’t care.

“Erik! I’m going to cum!”

“Go on baby...cum for me. Fuck it, cum on me...”

The nature of his sentence was so sexy and his voice was so deep Erik felt T’Challa’s pussy tighten, clenching into his fingers. They were soaked and Erik’s evil look was teasing T’Challa. The look that read and said ‘cum now...do it’. T’Challa began seeing stars, feeling orgasms build up in both areas and Erik could see it.

“What’s first? Tell me.”

“My pussy!”

T’Challa couldn’t contain it and screamed, he began to cum on Erik’s fingers and when Erik didn’t remove his fingers he squirted viciously, soaking Erik’s beard. But Erik wasn’t finished with him. Erik put maximum thrust in his hand while jerking T’Challa off and T’Challa screamed again.

“FUCK!” He screamed, releasing all over Erik’s face and it took a while. His scream died down and he finished, groaning and moaning. He was limp after and slumped back onto the bench. Erik licked his fingers clean of T’Challa’s climax and allowed one look from T’Challa before he headed to the showers to wash himself off.

After five minutes, T’Challa limped to the showers and joined him. The image of Erik with cum all over his face, settling into his beard and trickling down his lips stuck in T’Challa’s mind for the rest of the day. They exchanged numbers and kissed one last time before parting ways. Erik went home to sleep with T’Challa in his dreams and T’Challa couldn’t concentrate when he went home to help his roommate find Thomas. Or Tony. Todd? Whatever the fuck the cat’s name was...

#t'cherik #t'jadaka #t'monger #killchalla #killpanther #t'challa x erik #erik x t'challa #micwick #jordwick #chadbjordan #chadwick x michael #polypanther #implied #t'challa x bucky #winterpanther #sam wilson #fanfiction

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howtousepublictransport · 5 years

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Can you consume food and drink on public transport?

Rule: Subject to local laws, it is acceptable to consume food and drink on public transport.

Exception: Avoid foods that produce a strong smell, are noisy when chewed, and are generally messy or have excessive packaging.

There are some people for whom the idea of eating and drinking on public transport is utterly repulsive. It is an issue that they feel passionately about and will express disdain on social media when they are forced to be in close proximity to offending parties. And that’s perfectly fine. If eating and drinking in public makes you feel uncomfortable, then it is not something that you should do. But the question to be answered is as follows: what are fair limits for society generally to impose, and what is fair between specific individuals?

Eating and drinking are the essential human activities. We all have to engage in these to stay healthy and to not die. It may be embarrassing, but it has to be done. Article 11 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Righs recognises “the fundamental right of everyone to be free from hunger,” and restrictions placed upon someone’s ability to pursue this right should be considered very carefully.

It is an unfortunate truth that modern societies demand more and more of our time than ever before, and being able to sit down and slowly enjoy a satisfying meal is a luxury that not everyone has. A shift worker trying to raise a family may find that the only time they have to eat something, between running errands for kids, tending to the household, working their job, and getting a few hours sleep, is on their daily commute. And it is not something that they should feel ashamed of because of this.

The objection to eating and drinking on public transport appears to manifest along four primary dimensions, which are:

The noise produced by chewing and swallowing.

The smell from some foods being offensive to the nose.

The unhygienic nature of discarded food and spilt drinks.

The rubbish left behind once the food or drink has been consumed.

These objections may be felt by only a few people riding in the carriage, or by all people riding in the carriage. But is that sufficient reason to limit the freedom of another person to live their life as they see fit? What are the limits? Some cities and provinces do put prohibitions on the consumption of food and drink on public transport but, while not encouraging anyone reading this to disobey local laws, that does not necessarily mean that these laws are fair.

To quote John Stuart Mill in On Liberty:

The only freedom which deserves the name, is that of pursuing our own good in our own way, so long as we do not attempt to deprive others of theirs, or impede their efforts to obtain it.

And to further quote Mill:

That the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilized community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others.

A more nuanced version of Mill’s broad concepts of liberty can be found in the work of Jeremy Bentham, who viewed the correct action to take as the one that maximises utility, or pleasure. His views are often crudely simplified to the maxim “the greatest good to the greatest number”, though Bentham shared Mill’s view that society had no business in regulating purely private affairs that only offended morals. As he eloquently wrote in An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation:

Intense, long, certain, speedy, fruitful, pure—

Such marks in pleasures and in pains endure. Such pleasures seek if private be thy end: If it be public, wide let them extend Such pains avoid, whichever be thy view:

If pains must come, let them extend to few

A harsher view of this philosophy is adopted by the inhabitants of the planet Vulcan, as explained bluntly by Mr Spock in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan:

The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

Such thinking is the basis of modern, democratic societies. And it is a fair guide. What is good for some may not be good for others, and we should all be free to explore our own ideal of The Good, provided it does not interfere with the freedom of others to do the same. The question becomes then, is there here a sufficient harm for society to impose upon others a curtailment of their liberty?

To approach this topic logically, let us look at the harm caused by the four main objections to eating and drinking on public transport in more detail. At the very least, we can discuss the kinds of issues that might arise and what you should be mindful of. We will adopt however the rule that where there is no or little harm to others in the action, then it is permissible. However where it leads to harm, or the collective harm outweighs the private gain, then we will have found our limit. It is accepted that eating or drinking on public transport is a public activity, and not a simply private one, and as such may be subject to limitations where it impinges on the rights and freedoms of others.

1. Noise

To a greater or lesser extent, all people suffer from misophonia, a condition where sound can produce intense negative feelings, such as anger and discomfort. Different people have different triggers. For some, the sound of eating and drinking, or “mouth sounds” generally, is sufficient to produce a misophonic response.

But sound is an inescapable part of eating and drinking, even if it is only slight. Excessive noise in general is rude on public transport, as it can be disruptive and unpleasant for those around. Public transport is not the place to listen to your new favourite song without headphones on or to argue with someone on the phone about how they messed up the company’s big project.

Most foods and drinks can be consumed with minimal noise. There are however a few offenders that invariably cannot be consumed quietly. A good rule of thumb is that if the words “crunch” or “slurp” can be used to describe the method of consumption, then it is likely not appropriate to be eaten on public transport. Hard nuts and cereals, corn or potato chips, carrots, apples, and soup may fall into this category.

That said, the simple fact of some noise being produced is not sufficient reason to object to someone eating on public transport. The inconvenience to you has to be balanced against their right to choose to engage in this activity. An individual’s particular sensitivity should not preclude someone from eating or drinking on public transport where it is inoffensive to the general populace. However, if you are eating or drinking something that produces some noise, but not an inordinately loud noise, try and consume your food or beverage as quickly as possible without choking, minimise the sound produced by keeping your mouth closed, and if possible find an isolated section of the carriage to engage in your consumption.

2. Smell

There is a strong connection between one’s sense of smell, taste and hunger. Foods with a strong smell can stimulate all sorts of reactions in the brain, and for different reasons. A hungry person may find that the smell of food is a tantalising desire and cause them real pain to be denied it. A person who just ate a large meal may find the smell nauseating as their brain tells them that any more and they will be sick. And some foods just smell bad, despite how tasty they may be.

Foods rich in umami flavour, or glutamic acid, are the main offenders here. These include cured meats, fish, cheese, eggs and cabbage. Other contenders are foods that are seasoned with tumeric, cumin, soy sauce, or onion. In general, if something has been boiled or roasted, then it will produce a more pungent smell in the air. As pleasant as it may be, a hot dish should rarely be eaten on public transport.

With the above being said, one quick caveat. There is often a disturbing trend in the kinds of foods that people, at least in Western societies, complain about in terms of smell on public transport. Indian, Middle-Eastern, and Chinese foods, the foods of immigrant cultures, are often singled out as the main offenders. Is this a form of unconscious bias or racism? Or is it fair to point out that these foods have a strong aroma? It is hard to say definitively. Nevertheless, this author encourages you to stop and think before you complain about the smell of food from an immigrant culture. It may be that it is merely the unfamiliarity of the smell which is startling to your nose, and is not something that you should use to bring down public scorn upon someone else.

3. Mess

Mess produced by food or drink can have a negative impact for your fellow commuters, and not purely in terms of aesthetics. Foods scraps can rot and produce a sickening smell, sugary drinks can attract insects that bite, and half-digested slops that fall out of your mouth can spread disease.

When travelling on public transport, you want to avoid the three “S”s: sauces, soups, and syrups. Anything at risk of spilling in the event of sudden stoppages is a bad idea. For that reason, small packaged snack foods, such as peanuts or popcorn, can also be ill-advised at times.

But regardless of whether or not the food or drink item was one that you should have reconsidered consuming on public transport, if you do happen to make a mess, then clean it up. Prevention is usually preferable to reparations, but if the damage has been done then one must accept the responsibility for their actions. Having a napkin or other sanitary item available to mop up any mess is highly recommended with certain food and drink items.

4. Rubbish

Not much should need to be said on this topic. If the food or drink item you consume has packaging or other refuse that remains after consumption, then either dispose of it in available trash receptacles or take it with you when you leave. Aside from the environmental impact of improperly disposing of waste, it is no other person’s responsibility to clean up after you and it is an imposition on others to leave rubbish on public transport. Remember, even pigs know not to defecate in the places that they frequently inhabit.

In summary, while it is acceptable to eat and drink on public transport, you must as always remain mindful of your fellow commuters, and there are some definite hazards that should be avoided. In order to avoid these, the following is recommended for consumption on public transport: a soft hand fruit with not too much juice, such as an apricot or banana; a simple digestive biscuit; a peanut butter sandwich: and water in a reusable bottle.

The above may not sound particularly appetising, but you can at least consume them content in the knowledge that you are not committing any reprimandable breaches of social etiquette, and that is a feeling more sustaining than any meal. To misquote an old Klingon saying in closing:

[Good manners] are a dish best served cold.

#public transport #etiquette #food #drink #john stuart mill #jeremy bentham #spock #star trek

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msfcatlover · 6 years

Text

My on-going AU problem

Featuring: My take on “Midoriya Izuku gets/inherits/is the son of All for One.”

Look, I had the idea last night, and I need to throw it out there somehow.

So, Inko was seeing All for One at one point, but after finding out who/what he was and then learning she was pregnant, she ran as far and fast as she could; she’s actually like eighty layers deep in whatever witness/victim protection program exists in HeroAca’s Japan. Since nobody knows how deep AfO’s influence might run, most of her pregnancy was spent shuffling from agency to agency, changing identities, and sometimes even hopping borders in order to obscure her trail as much as possible.

Her hair is naturally powder-blue, but she started dying it for each new identity, and dark green just happened to be what she wound up on when she became Midoriya Inko. Among other things she had to reinvent about herself:

· Learning to enjoy cooking, or at least finding dishes she could enjoy making enough to pass for it.

· Stop knitting (which she used to do constantly,) and start sewing (which she used to bemoan whenever she found a rip in her clothes.)

· Learn to lie badly.

· A preference for dresses and skirts over jeans.

· Stop remembering dates (basically, teach herself to seem absentminded.)

· Change the pitch of her quirk; she says it’s much weaker than it is (she can lift things up to her own weight,) added the little waving gesture (completely unnecessary, but helps with the image,) and if asked to explain the science of it, she says she sort-of magnetizes the items to her hands (it’s full-on telekinesis.)

“Midoriya Hisashi” is, legally, her husband, and the source of their income, but he’s actually her contact at the protection program; he still doesn’t know the whole story behind her, but he’s been vetted enough times that she knows she can trust him if she ever needs to reach out. She’s never had to call him, and hopes she’ll never have to, but he’s on speed-dial just in case.

So. Izuku is born a little after she settles into being Inko, and she is so, so happy. He’s a bright point of sunshine in her life, and if she’s very lucky, he’ll never know who his father actually is, and he’ll grow up safe and peaceful and happy. And, yeah, he has his father’s dark pink curls, but that’s what baby-safe dyes are for, right? Right. As far as the neighbors are concerned, Izuku has his mother’s eyes, his mother’s hair, and his mother’s smile.

(She never tells them that she has Izuku’s smile; that she never used to be able to be this bright, this open, before her baby boy came into her life. Izuku will grow up with his mother telling and showing him that it’s okay to cry, never knowing he taught her that first.)

And then his quirk comes in.

It’s not All for One proper. A child can, after all, manifest either of their parents’ quirks… or a combination of the two. AfO needs to place his hands on someone to steal their quirk, and when he does he absorbs it automatically; Izuku can just hold out his hands and pull, and this little twinkling light jumps out of them to hover above his hands, where he can harmlessly hold it for as long as he wants to. If he closes his hand around the light, he can utilize the quirk, but the original owner can get it back just by grabbing hold of it and reabsorbing the light into their body.

Inko calls Hisashi. She says her son’s quirk seems like a dead give-away as to who his father is, and she doesn’t know what to do. Hisashi hums and considers, and then tells her to have a conversation with the boy about keeping aspects of it a secret, the same way that she does, and to only register as much as they decide to tell people.

They register it as a cancellation quirk. Izuku grows up knowing he shouldn’t show off the part of his quirk that lets him borrow other people’s powers, the same way he only washes his hair with the shampoo with the hair dye mixed in, the same way he doesn’t talk about his dad, ever. (He honestly stopped showing off his power almost entirely after Tsubasa wanted to know if Izuku could cancel a mutation-type quirk; the main thing he remembers from that incident was the pain of alien wings trying to rip through his skin, and the way that the other boy would not stop screaming. And Izuku gave it back, he gave it right back, he apologized a thousand times, but Tsubasa wouldn’t go near him afterwards, and Izuku couldn’t blame him. He swore never to use his quirk on anyone with a mutation-type quirk ever again.)

(Later, Inko will explain some of the possible medical repercussions of taking someone’s quirk, and Izuku almost swears never to use it again at all, before she wipes away his tears and tells him, voice just as shaky as his, eyes just as wet, no. “You just have to be careful, sweetheart,” she tells him, “that’s all. Your quirk is just another part of you, and there is no part of you you ought to be ashamed of. Don’t talk that way about my favorite person, hmmm? You’ll make me cry… even harder than I already am.”)

(That night he washes his hair with the green shampoo, and wonders for the first time why.)

The only place Izuku uses his quirk fully is at home, where Inko lets him borrow hers whenever he asks, but for the rest of the world it’s just a cancellation quirk with some weird side-effects (like the time he took an ice quirk and frost formed across his hands.) Cancellation quirks aren’t flashy, they aren’t impressive, and some people don’t like the idea of someone depriving them of their inborn abilities, so his childhood isn’t all that different. (A little gentler than it might have been, a little more sheltered and protected, but while Izuku might be able to steal the fire from Bakugou’s fists, there’s not much he can do about the fists themselves or the sharp words that accompany them, and Bakugou is still a force of personality and a literal child prodigy, and he’s still going to lead the pack however he might choose.)

When Izuku asks his mother, much later than in canon, if she thinks he could be a hero, Inko has images flash by in her head (heroes hurt by villains, heroes targeted, injuries, and ambulances, and faces plastered all over the media, the broken shells the used to be people that her ex tried to hide from her,) and she thinks of how Izuku has his father’s curls, his father’s ears, how he may even grow into his father’s build some day, and the tears well up before she can stop them. This isn’t what she meant when she’d hoped he could do whatever he wanted; a software designer, an artist, an engineer, a martial artist, a quirk scientist, a doctor, anything that didn’t have his face on the front page and his quirk on full display. But he’s looking at her with those big, watery eyes (her eyes,) and that bright, hopeful smile (Izuku’s smile, no one but his,) and she forces herself to smile back. “Well, that’s a scary thought!” she says, trying to laugh, “My baby, out on the front lines? I might just have a heart attack!” His smile gets tighter, more strained, and Inko scrambles to push forwards. “But, I think… I think. I think you’d be a great hero, sweetheart, if that’s what you really wanted to be.”

(His smile widens and the tears spill over, and he blubbers his way through saying how much that means to him, and Inko swallows the lump in her throat and tells herself that every kid wants to be a hero. Even she wanted to be a hero at one point, and it’s just a phase which he’ll grow out of and get over, and he’ll find something else and stay normal, anonymous, and safe.)

(He doesn’t grow out of it.)

His encounter with the sludge villain is disastrous. When Izuku starts to panic, when his lungs burn and he realizes he might die, he remembers how his mother said it was alright to use his quirk against people if they were trying to hurt him. He reaches out, and he pulls. A sickly green-brown light jumps into his hands, and the villain is screaming (just like Tsubasa did, and oh no, this is a mutant-type isn’t it?) and then Izuku is kneeling in a puddle of sewage and hacking up slime and the villain…

When All Might arrives, he finds a boy covered in goo, trying to push the slime into a pile with one hand, the other clutched against his chest, while he cries harder than almost anyone the hero had ever seen.

“I didn’t mean to!” Izuku says, or tries to, over and over and over again, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I never meant…” He looks up at All Might, and in the moment he doesn’t recognize him yet. “I tried to put it back, I swear, I tried! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt him, I just wanted him to stop—”

And All Might looks at the goo all over the ground, and he thinks, Oh.

He thinks, I’m too late.

And he doesn’t have time, he has maybe fifteen minutes left, but this poor boy can’t even recognize the number one hero standing in front of him he’s so distressed, and Yagi was too late, and a child had to kill the villain he’d been trying to chase down, so he wipes the slime off Izuku’s face, off his shoulders, makes an attempt to get it out of his hair, and gently tells the boy that they’re going to walk away. They’re going to walk out of this underpass and into the sun, and that this will get reported later, but first we’re going to step into the sun, and maybe you could tell me what you did, my boy?

Izuku doesn’t look at him straight on, but he wipes his eyes (it does nothing,) and lets his hero walk him out to a bench where they sit, and he attempts to recount what happened. How the villain came out of the sewer, how he tried to run and wasn’t fast enough, how it wanted to wear him, how it tried to drown him… “And I didn’t…” he hiccups, choking on his words.

“You didn’t want to die.” Izuku nods. All Might sighs. “Perfectly understandable, my boy.”

“So I took his quirk,” Izuku whispers, and All Might’s blood runs cold. “But he’s a mutant, wasn’t he? His quirk held his body together, he couldn’t survive without it, and I… I…” The tears return, just as hard as before. “I tried to put it back! I didn’t mean to k-k-k-” He’s unintelligible again for a little while after that, but eventually, Izuku holds out his still-clenched fist, white-knuckled and shaking, and asks, “And what do I do with it now?”

Yagi has never seen the metaphysical representation of a quirk before, but he knows what he’s looking at the moment the boy opens his hand. It hovers above his palm like a particularly sickly star, still shining despite its proper owner’s death, and neither of them has any idea what to do.

(He winds up taking Izuku to the police station to report it, and Naomasa has the oddest look on his face when he gets a good look at the kid. People with proper training and emotional-regulation quirks talk Izuku through it, and but he keeps looking at that star and asking them what he’s supposed to do. Eventually it’s suggested he find a way to store it, since Izuku says he does have a way, but it’s not pleasant, and he thought the police might want it for evidence. They remind him that no one else can touch it, no container can hold it, and Naomasa takes down his contact info and promises they’ll call him in to bring it out again if they need it.)

(And then, in front of everyone, Izuku swallows the star.)

(He’s done it before, at home, with his mother’s quirk when he needed his hands free for whatever reason, and he knows what happens next. He rolls up his sleeve to show them the small glassy bubble that forms in his skin, the same putrid green as the slime, and says he can get it out again, but it hurts a little when he does that. He finishes answering any other questions and leaves with one of the therapists, who promises to walk him home and keep him from breaking down again.)

(Toshi asks Naomasa why he looks like he’s seen a ghost. Naomasa tells him the boy reminded him of someone he met long ago, and also that he needs to go swear the entire precinct to secrecy probably; just quiet enough that it’s clearly not meant to be heard, Nao adds, “I really hope I’m wrong about this.” He refuses to elaborate when asked.)

---

Beyond that, I have little ideas for certain events, like how the entrance exam, Aizawa’s test, and the Sports Festival might go down. I know exactly how the fight with Stain would happen. And I’m probably never gonna write this proper, but if anyone wants to hear me gush while I avoid the stuff I’m actually supposed to be doing, y’all know where to find me.

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #mine #my life #my writing #ha: deku #ha: midoriya (inko)#ha: parents

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