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#damn these heroic morals!
scalproie · 2 months
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tekken i dont think you realize this scene will have the opposite effect on me you think it will
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thetimelordbatgirl · 1 year
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Do you think Lily making her Black OC a slavery apologist and now a colonizer is an intentional writing choice to be “edgy” with her basically writing “what if a white supremacist but black though. Or is she really so stupid as to not see the implications behind what she wrote?
Given Aliana basically is Lily's excuse to justify the sith in a Star Wars fic and act out Lily's violent side at random times while also turning well written characters into either supporters of Aliana (aka characters Lily likes) or into characters for Aliana to despise (Luke and Leia who Lily somehow, managed to write worser then Rian Johnson did), I would say....Lily is just writing Aliana now as a colonizer basically, because Lily probably wants to give Aliana a complete power over everyone fantasy. Aka similar to how Lily acts with everything really when demanding shows cater to her interests and if you dare disagree with her, your somehow a racist and transphobe and not worth Lily referring to you in a human way.
And as for the slave thing...I would honestly say Lily just justifies it cause slavery is a thing in Star Wars....ignoring that uh, all slavery characters in Star Wars are ahem....BAD GUYS, and her favorite character, Anakin, actually hates them due to his childhood of being enslaved himself, but its okay according to Lily cause....cause....cause your racist if you dare hate on Aliana and her mom and need to be brought down like Leia basically. Just...I wouldn't even say Lily's stupid to not understand why these things are bad, because she clearly has knowledge of history and why slavery and colonization is bad, but it goes out the window when writing Aliana cause Lily just wants to live a powerful sith fantasy through Aliana and if you dare point out Aliana is basically bringing the empire back and colonizing planets to demand they cater to her and her rule, then your somehow a racist according to Lily's logic.
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orcelito · 2 years
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I've reached chapter 12 of discacc which means I'm to the point where some1 thought Akira got over goro being a murderer Far Too Easily 🙄 but anyways chapter 11 was Painful lmao. I'm looking forward to seeing Akira Cope
#speculation nation#discacc shit#the comment in question was on. the Next chapter i think#like the person was. nice(?) overall but also they left a mile long comment critiquing things with only a lil thing about what they loved#& like everything they critiqued was stuff that they either missed or held no basis.#i ultimately took out of it all that i needed to be more Clear with things bc they were obviously misunderstanding#& one of the things was them saying akira got over this far too quickly. & i was just like. he Didnt???#what part of staying up until 4 am researching like mad & then skipping school & wearing a metaphorical mask around his friends#to cover up how much of a mess he was#what part of it all is him 'getting over it'???#like yea he rationalizes to himself & makes excuses to make him feel okay about the fact that he still loves goro#but at the end of the day. like. he takes a While to genuinely get over it#& it was with his realization that he really does prioritize goro's life over the lives of like anyone else#aka smth i plan to bring up sometime soon in fic. bc goro still doesnt understand why akira accepts him#doesnt want akira to make Excuses for his actions. bc he's still doing them.#but akira is just like. 'i know it's not exactly Heroic of me or whatever but i rly kinda dont give a damn if it means you stay alive'#'hell id even kill For you if it meant you stayed alive'#that's gonna b a fun convo to have bc i rly dont think akira's the picture of moral purity#we've seen a number of lil peeks into that. & it's ultimately why he works so well with goro#they both have Something Wrong With Them & so they fit with each other well ❤#that's rly just the pairing in general lol. akeshu in a nutshell
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tbposting · 6 months
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I've started One Piece but frankly am very cautious with actually continuing and investing a lot of time and energy into the work because I'm aware of the transphobia and the general... everything surrounding characters like Brook. I haven't chosen to invest in a long running Shonen since about 15 years ago, before coming to terms with my sexuality, and I fear that a lot of stuff I'll find to be inexcusable. Are the allegations blown out of proportions, or should I be worried?
Well, I don't think I can help you on what you'll find inexcusable or excusable, that's a very personal line that everyone draws for themselves, ultimately. I love One Piece deeply, but I refuse to make excuses for its shortcomings. Like all great works of art, it is flawed.
For something like twenty years, One Piece's primary depiction of visible queerness and transfemininity were the Newkama.
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Which... fucking sucks, frankly. Visually, these are designs based 100% on "ha ha ha ugly men in dresses who think they're feminine, ha ha ha" as a joke. They are ridiculous caricatures, and you are meant to find them funny and laugh at their delusions of femininity.
It's a depiction that derives from extant stereotypes of transfemininity and homosexuality in Japanese culture, which... aren't really my place to speak authoritatively on. I know that there are some complexities re: drag culture, reclamation and performance culture, and Japanese queer and trans people have a diversity of thoughts and opinions on both One Piece and the "okama" stereotype more broadly. I can't speak to any of that, that's not really my lane, so I'll just say that from MY perspective, the depiction of the Newkama as visual designs comes across as a dismissive, mean-spirited and frankly cruel depiction of transfemininity.
In addition to that, it should also be said that the Kamabakka are unequivocally heroic and explicitly depicted as correct and morally right in their identities and culture.
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This is Bon Clay and Ivankov, two major okama characters in One Piece. If Ivankov looks familiar that's because he's based on Dr. Frank N. Furter from Rocky Horror Picture Show. Ivankov is a major heroic ally of the Straw Hats, and Bon Clay is commonly considered one of THE most beloved and heroic supporting characters in the entire story. One Piece fans will DIE for Bon Clay, you can find tiktoks of people openly weeping with love for this man. If I ever appeared on camera, I would be one of them.
Setting aside their presentation as designs, One Piece goes out of its way to show these characters fighting, sacrificing and standing up for their friends and their communities. It goes out of its way to present their humanity, their compassion and their kindness, and to humanize them to the audience.
The ultimate villains of One Piece are the World Government, a hyper-authoritarian militaristic feudal government with a policy of absolute conformity to authority, and the Newkama and their queerness are explicitly framed as standing in opposition to that evil, and as representatives and avatars of freedom.
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Freedom is one of One Piece's central themes, and it very explicitly includes freedom from gender roles and gender norms in that idea. The Newkama, among other things, also stand for freedom of presentation, freedom of gender, and freedom of self-determination. Whatever gender you want, whatever you want to wear, who and whatever you want to be, the Newkama say you can and should be those things, and damn what anyone else thinks.
Newkama Land where these story scenes take place are literally a haven of freedom carved out by queer people inside the walls of a deep-ocean prison that the World Government tried to throw them into to torture and destroy them, which is, objectively speaking, metal as fuck.
I think these story ideas are extremely queer-positive and trans-inclusive, and I think it reads like the work of someone who has queer people's backs and wants them to be part of the worlds that he makes.
...
Which makes it all the more frustrating that the Newkama are the only explicit depictions of transness and queerness in One Piece for literal decades. On the one hand, the story is vocally accepting and inclusive, on the other hand, everyone everywhere is presented as cis and straight with vanishingly few exceptions. Queer people exist in One Piece, but only really in the designated Queer Person Faction, rather than as an endemic presence in the world. It's very Planet of Hats in that way.
(inb4 yes I know Luffy is shown essentially as aro-ace, yes I also agree that Nami definitely has a thing going on with Vivi and projects hella lesbian energy. Yes you can absolutely do a queer reading of the story and its characters, and I do that and I love to do that, but there's a difference between something being open to queer interpretation and a story actually telling explicitly queer stories)
It's not until we reach the Wano arc, one of the most recent story arcs, that Oda really gets around to depicting forms of gender non-conformity and transness outside of the boundaries of the Newkama and the "okama" visual stereotype. He's been rightly praised for making those new creative choices (and Yamato is MY BOY I fucking love him), but it still took a quarter of a century for One Piece to even HAVE a transmasc character.
On the one hand its explicit text is quite radically inclusive, the themes and what the story SAYS presents queerness and queer people as good things that make the world a better, richer and freer place. People who try to eradicate or oppress queerness are, without exception, the enemy.
On the other hand, it just hasn't been very good at actually depicting queerness, except as cartoonish stereotypes and very, very occasional exceptions to the cishet status quo.
The portrayal of the Newkama, visually, arrive from a tradition of transphobic, homophobic stereotypes, and I don't blame anyone from being alienated by that. Placing them on the side of the good guys doesn't cancel out the problematic aspect of using those kinds of depictions in the first place, and I am not interested in making excuses for it.
I love One Piece, deeply, I think it is a wonderful story, and I find it very affirming of queerness as a mode of being. But I'm not going to argue with anyone who feels differently.
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dekusleftsock · 1 month
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HMMNGGGSHSHHSHD IM SO LATE TO THIS BUT THERES SO MANY THINGS IVE WANTED TO SAY FOR SO LONG AND IVE JUST BEEN TOO DEPRESSED OR BUSY TO DO IT
I did just re-read the chapter, hazbin/helluva hyperfixation is gone y’all I’m back and ready for more.
Okay so, a couple of things I noticed. Let’s start there.
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Throughout this chapter, it really is heartbreaking to see how Izuku regards one for all as Allmight’s power, and therefore a disrespect to him to give that away. Which is quite frankly insane given the nature of what the power is, but regardless it still shows me just how deeply he still cares for and admires allmight.
It also makes the transfer Izuku makes to Katsuki in the heroes rising movie all the more intimate; izuku wouldn’t just give the power to anyone, if not for himself (which is also clearly due to that fact since he still sees ofa as the thing that makes him a hero, not his characteristics), then simply out of respect for allmight and his legacy.
It’s just the anger you can see, feel in those words as he demands to know why. I’ve personally been in the boat of “Izuku dislikes Kudou immensely bc he hasn’t proven to be heroic and amazing like Katsuki has, and also he insults him a lot why would he like him”, since Izuku does genuinely have self respect (a common mischaracterization imo), he’s just also more forgiving and faithful to those he admires or loves (or both).
SPEAKING OF SELF RESPECT AND MISCHARACTERIZATION!
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I want to highlight the words “But even so, this boy refuses to throw in the towel”, bc it’s such an important part of Izuku and his character.
He isn’t overly self sacrificial, he isn’t a masochist, he isn’t even a martyr—especially not a martyr.
Izuku is stubborn. That is not the same thing as wanting to constantly die for others; izuku is like Katsuki, he wants to fight for others. Giving up just simply isn’t in his morality.
And if “giving up” also includes letting someone die or failing to save someone out of his own negligence, that’s not because he wants to die.
I can’t explain how much the interpretation that Izuku wanting to die, even for others, is so fucking out of character. Izuku is stubborn, he’s stubborn in the way that he won’t just fall over and let the ground take him. Given the circumstances, Izuku would fight for his life just as he would fight for another.
THIS HAS BEEN THE CASE SINCE, I DONT KNOW, CHAPTER FUCKING ONE?
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“Idiot! If I’d really jumped, you’d be charged with bullying me into suicide!! Think before you speak!!”
“Idiot…”
Like he’s so unaffected by the awful comment outside of being angry at the DISRESPECT of said comment. This is why all those damn suicidal Izuku fics have always felt so ooc. Izuku isnt a moody, brooding ball of depression, he’s a stubborn, courageous, and angry ball of depression. There is a difference.
Even before this, he literally attempts to say something or fight back to Katsuki, honestly it looks like he’s about to punch him here.
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The only reason he DOESNT is bc HE DOESNT WANT TO GET HIS ASS BEAT
Btw for anyone who has or ever will be in Izuku’s position, punch him. I love Katsuki But hit him in the fucking gut. If you get your ass beat at least you can say you can took it like a champ.
Speaking from someone who regrets not punching three girls who were trying to gang up on me in middle school🫶🫶🫶
Anyway, I’d argue that Izuku not taking Katsuki in a fight was made out of self preservation, something he very much has.
And last but not least, we get to this lovely fucking page.
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First of all…
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Hm, ain’t that strange?
I’m not saying it’s fully a parallel, I’m just saying it’s something to consider.
Especially with the context that I don’t think Izuku feels shameful here.
He’s been a hero who didn’t look like one once before, I’m sure a snide comment through Shigaraki is nothing in comparison to the literal hundreds of civilians afraid of him.
Or, even more interestingly, what if he’s shameful of it, and okay with that? Now THATS some control over your emotions. This is demonstrating the very thing Banjo told him in the first place; using his emotions to fuel him. Let himself live with them, breath with them. They exist, and they hurt, and that’s fucking okay.
But it begs the question…. Why bring attention to it?
Clearly horikoshi WANTS you to see that Izuku is the one who looks like the monster now. He even looks devil like, blackwhip coming out of his back the way it is just feels like wings.
But maybe… maybe this is how he stops sweeping problems under the rug. Maybe this is him, Izuku, at his most animalistic form. Him. At his core. This is the Izuku he doesn’t want people to know.
The faceless, long clawed, oozing black monster.
He’s a kid who can take a fucking beating. He’s not Deku the useless doll, nor is he Deku the hero. He’s simply Izuku.
And you know what’s even more likely?
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The black pit of anger that Shigaraki has formed, fueling his uncontrolled emotions and anger and despair, with the light tear showing something underneath…
What if, this was Izuku’s black ball of anger and shame, except this one is escaping his body, pouring out and showing all of that for what it truly is. Pent up rage, uncontrolled emotion, anxiety and shame, all mixed into one hell hole of a person—but a ball that can be molded, controlled, torn apart from the inside out.
See, the same way Kudou tears at Shigaraki’s mental breaking to see what’s underneath, so have the ofa users for Izuku. Slowly, but surely, the people in Izuku’s life have, while created that ball in the first place, also worked to destroy it. The final piece of the puzzle is for Izuku to choose to let it happen, and he is.
Learning to sit in one’s fear, doubt, hatred, anger, sadness, grief, happiness—without that emotion having to be something, simply something that flows through you, that you can choose to act on or not; this is where Izuku’s arc is coming to its tipping point. We are nearing the climax, I can feel it.
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kteague · 4 months
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Soul of a Hero
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Pairing: Frankie Morales x Girasol (f!reader) - Because of You universe
Word Count: 1.9k
Summary: A house fire spurs Frankie into action.
Warnings: fluff, angst, minor injuries, emergency services, fire, heroic!Frankie
a/n: This has been a WIP for awhile - just had the urge to write something for Frankie based on the gif. Also, I have no knowledge of medical care lol.
Because of You - Series Masterlist
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The reflection of the street lights dance along the windshield and the cool night air breezes into the car through the windows that you and Frankie have open.  The girls are fast asleep in their car seats and have been for most of the long ride home from Frankie’s mother’s house.  The trunk has a ton of leftovers that she made sure went home with you because she loves making sure her family is fed.  For that reason, you and Frankie always make sure to bring coolers and insulated bags to keep the food cold or hot for as long as possible for the two-hour drive home. 
With Frankie’s big extended family, many who you all don’t see as often as you’d like, leaving always ends up being later than you both would like which is why it’s already almost 1:30 in the morning and you’re only now finally driving into town where you live. 
With a yawn, “I was kind of hoping to have another piece of the torta de mil hojas but it’s so late, I’ll fall asleep eating it.”
Frankie grins and glances at you, “How about you lay in bed and I’ll feed it to you until you conk out?  No extra effort on your part.”
“Don’t even joke because I would actually consider taking you up on that.  It’s so damn good!” you laugh softly to not wake the girls. 
Frankie places a palm against his heart and shakes his head, “I would never joke about something so important.  Besides, when you fall asleep, I get what’s left.  So, it’s a win-win,” he looks at you with a smile.
You reach up and gently remove his hat, placing it on your lap before combing your fingers through his hair, “Oh, so that was it.  You just wanted my cake.”
Frankie happily hums at the feeling of your nails against his scalp, “Keep doing that and I’ll let you have all of it.” 
Both of you quietly laugh as you continue to soothingly scratch his scalp.  When you’re about eight blocks both of you catch a whiff of something burning. 
“You smell that?” Frankie asks, turning his head towards the open window and taking another sniff.
“Is it the car?” you ask as you slowly withdraw your hand from him and look through the windshield but see no smoke coming from the hood. 
Frankie keeps driving as he looks around the passing houses, answering you, “No, smells more like wood burning.”
You’re now about five blocks from home when Frankie spots it first.  A yellow house with smoke billowing out from it.  All the lights are off inside and no other house on the block seems to have signs of life.  He pulls over across the street and both of you notice the children’s bikes out front and some toys strewn about the grass. 
“Oh god,” you worry.  Just at that moment, orange and red flames shoot from the roof and Frankie’s instantly in motion as you reflexively jump at the sight.  He’s getting out and reaching into his pocket where he pulls his cell phone out and hands it to you, because he knows you’d have to dig around in your purse for yours, “Call 911.  Tell them there’s kids inside.”
Taking his phone, you say his name in question at what he’s about to do, but he’s already closing the car door and running across the street.  You make the call for help as you watch your husband start banging his fist hard and fast against the front door. 
As you relay the necessary information to the dispatcher, you hear Frankie yelling, “HEY! Your house is on fire! Wake up! Wake up!” 
There are cars in the driveway but still no light is turning on inside the house.  You watch as Frankie glances back at you and then he turns sideways and starts ramming his shoulder into the front door. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” you ask out loud to yourself as fear starts to crawl up your body.  A huge ball of fire shoots out from the side of the house breaking the windows and causing Frankie to crouch down before realizing it’s not near him just yet.  You rush out of the car and are about to shout to him when you see two people stumbling out from the back of the house. 
“Oh my god!” you run over and meet the couple as they fall to their knees, harshly coughing as they’re covered in soot.
“Are you the only two inside? Do you have kids?” you hurriedly ask. 
The woman’s crying, “Our two daughters are still inside! We tried but we couldn’t get to them! Please!”
Frankie and you share a look before he shouts to them, “Where are they?!”
The man coughs harsh and heavy, “Second floor” he sputters out.   Before he can give room locations, you watch in horror as Frankie turns his back to the door, that he’s already managed to dislodge a bit with his shoulder, and throws a heavy donkey kick to it busting it wide open.  He looks at you one more time before you watch him take a deep breath and run into the smoke-filled home. 
“FRANKIE!” you scream after him. As your body fills with panic, you hear the cries from your own children now.  Looking at your car, you see Rosie’s hands and legs moving from where she’s strapped in her car seat. 
Neighbors have slowly started to trickle out after Frankie’s shouting and the smell of the smoke.  As a few rush over to guide the couple across the street, you run to your car and throw the back door open.  Both girls are crying at all the commotion.  You try to keep your own tears at bay as you shakily console them, your mind filled with worry about your husband. 
“Mommy!” Vivi wails and you reach over to rub her belly, “Vivi, baby, it’s okay, sweetheart.”
Sirens sound in the distance and you keep glancing over your shoulder for any sign of him leaving the house.  You alternate between looking for Frankie and looking to your girls while caressing their wet cheeks, trying to soothe them.  Through it all your body is trembling with fear that after all the danger Frankie’s been through in his life, this could actually be what takes him from you. 
When you hear gasps and loud voices, you whip your head around and see Frankie running out the front door with a young girl in his arms.  They’re both coughing and Frankie has soot smudged on his face with sweat rolling through it. A few sections of his clothing appear singed.  He makes it halfway across the street before another neighbor takes the girl from his arms and carries her to her parents.
“Frankie!” you shout and he looks your way. 
“The other girl!” Is all he shouts at you before he’s running past everyone and right back into the house as everyone watching all gasp in worry for him. 
Tears fall from your eyes as you watch the man you love disappear into thick smoke and flames. 
Fire trucks finally pull up, along with police cars and ambulances.  You rush over to the first firefighter you see and start rambling that your husband is inside and so is a young girl he’s trying to rescue.  The firefighter squeezes your shoulder and promises to find them before alerting his crew to the information.  You go back to your kids, unbuckling Rosie and gathering her up into your arms then one-handedly unbuckling Vivi who gets out of the car seat herself and crawls over Rosie’s to hug you. 
“Where’s Daddy?” Vivi cries out loud through her tears. 
“He’s helping people, honey,” you sniffle and kiss her head. 
Just as the firefighters have everything they need and approach the house to enter, Frankie stumbles out the front door with a girl about Vivi’s age in his arms.  He’s coughing worse than before and you can see from where you are that he has some burns on his arms.  The girl is crying which is a good sign and the firefighters rush towards them.
A group of four women who had been watching everything unfold and overheard that the man inside was your husband, rush over and offer to take your kids so you can go to him.  Thanking them profusely, you let them take the girls as you run over to Frankie.  As soon as the girl is taken from his arms, Frankie falls to his hands and knees, coughing hard from the smoke inhalation.  Before you even reach him, flames shoot out from the front of the home sending everyone yelling at the scary sight.
A minute later and Frankie wouldn’t be here right now. 
You drop to your knees next to him, rubbing and patting his back while checking over for any major wounds which you thankfully don’t see any.  The burns don’t look too bad and despite some black soot by his nostrils and the coughing, he seems relatively okay. 
Paramedics rush over with a tank of oxygen and a mask and have Frankie sit up where they give him oxygen for his smoke inhalation.   Frankie quickly removes the mask they just put on and rasps, “Those girls okay?” 
Nodding as tears stream down your face, “Yes, baby, they’re okay.  You got them just in time.”
Tiredly he gives a small nod and fits the mask back over his nose and mouth, gulping down the oxygen as the paramedics treat the minor burns on his arms, applying a burn gel and wrapping the areas.
Once done, they quickly go to help check on the family whose house it was. 
“You scared the hell out of me! I can’t believe you did that, Frank!” you brush his damp hair from his forehead as his eyes look into yours.  It’s not that you mean to yell at him, but your heart was in the pit of your stomach for too long. 
He lifts a hand to wrap gently around your wrist as he uses his other to remove the mask again, “If it had been our kids, I’d hope someone would do the same.”
Nodding, you wipe hastily at your wet cheeks, “I know.”
Tenderly grasping his face, you press kiss after kiss to his forehead and cheeks, “You brave, stupid man.”  And you hear him chuckle under the mask before a cough follows. 
As he goes to move the mask for a third time, you stop him.  He needs all the oxygen he can get and you can tell by the slight pinch of his brows what he’s going to ask.
“They’re okay, just scared.”
Your kids. His girls. 
Frankie nods, then slides a hand to your cheek in a bid to reassure you that he’s going to be fine.  The rough pad of his thumb brushing away your tears.
The way you want to hit him but also love on him non-stop until there’s no trace left on him of what he went through tonight.
But you knew there was never going to be any other scenario of what went on here.  There’s no alternate reality where Frankie doesn’t stop.  Or where he stays in the car to watch a family possibly die. 
He may not be military anymore, but he’ll still always have it – the soul of a hero.
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Regarding Alastor's Hallway Scene in Episode 5 of "Hazbin Hotel"
Good day, folks! As sweet Mimzy said, "...pour a few fingers of rye and he turns into a kitten" so let's do that. Let me set up my Redemption, and let's get into this.
*Sip, sip*
Now, this is quite an interesting thing; the phenomenon of the reactions I have been seeing particularly regarding Alastor in episode 5 of Hazbin Hotel has been ... curiouser and curiouser.
*Sip, sip*
The big question that I think we should be asking after this episode is who Alastor is leashed to---but there seems to be something else on people's minds and that is the interaction Alastor had with Husk in the hallway of the hotel. I mean, every great character needs an epic hallway scene. For Star Wars it was Vader and Luke. For Hazbin, it is Alastor. Let's explore this.
*Sip, sip*
As a society, feasting on entertainment, whether it be through books or films or a series, fans often say that they enjoy the "villain" or "morally grey" character as opposed to those who are set on their compass of goodness. I find this to be a lie that we often tell ourselves and believe completely.
Sure, we find them more entertaining and thus we favor them, but then we try to find excuses for their behavior, make it a despicable act that is done for righteous reasons. Or because we desire to see someone who is tremendously struggling or has a rather horrid reputation overcome this and prove to be a fantastic character underneath all the layers of darkness. We don't like them because they are bad. We may pity them for they often have the most tragic backstories, or we see the potential of their goodness. But we like them because we believe that everyone in their universe has the wrong perspective of their wickedness while we, outsiders looking in, see the potential of their heroics. What they can do despite everything.
That is not liking a character because they are the villain. That is liking a character because of why they are the villain and how they can overcome it.
A few examples:
Rhysand dressing Feyre up like a whore and tattooing her without her consent: well, he was doing that to protect her and help her.
Darth Vader: Mass murderer and second in command of an empire built on absolute control; but he fulfilled the prophecy of the Chosen One and had originally fallen because he wanted to save the love of his life and his unborn children.
Loki: Yeah, he slaughtered 80 people in 2 days, attacked NYC with an alien army killing hundreds if not thousands in the process, and committed genocide prior to that, BUT that's because he was severely broken and now he sits all alone at the end of time, saving an infinite amount of people.
Granted, I love 2/3 of those characters because of the reasons provided. But also because in their prime they were WICKED!
*Sip, sip*
Now let's look at Alastor.
Alastor, the Radio Demon, and one of the most feared overlords of Hell ... threatened one of the souls he owns. And now, I see people comparing him to Val or saying they hated him at that moment or now have a poor taste for him in their mouths. But ... this is exactly what you asked for from him.
*Sip, sip*
Val, who ACTIVELY tortures Angel Dust, is being used as the comparison for Alastor because he THREATENED and scared Husk after Husk stepped over the line.
*Sip, sip*
Alastor, when alive, was a serial killer. Alastor in Hell captured overlords, tortured them, broadcasted the torture throughout Hell, and became one of the most feared overlords.
He didn't do that by being "nice" or "charming." He did that by being vile and not for a greater good. He did it because, as far as we know, he wanted power. And, damn, he got it.
Demons KNOW to be afraid of Alastor. Granted, his reputation may have faltered because he has been away for 7 years but before his departure and even upon his return, for the most part, demons avoid Alastor as though he were death incarnate.
*Sip, sip*
Now, let's examine him in episode 5. Only the scene that is getting the most traction; I'll talk about Alastor and Lucifer in another post. But let's look at this scene:
Alastor and Husk in the hallway.
*Sip, sip*
Let me put some quotes here real quick:
From the Pilot:
Husk to Alastor: "Don't you [Alastor, the owner of my soul] 'Husker' me, you son of a bitch!"
Husk to Alastor: "Are you [Alastor, the owner of my soul] shitting me?"
Husk to Alastor: "You [Alastor, owner of my soul whom I have just shoved off of me] think it must be some big fucking riot just to pull me out of nowhere? You think I'm some kind of fucking clown? [even though I am contractually obligated to obey your summons]"
Husk to Alastor: "I [the one contracted to serve you and obey your commands] ain't doing no fucking charity job [even though you told me by your order that I have to]."
Alastor to Husk: "Don't worry my friend [you, who sold your soul to me so that you could keep your power because you almost gambled it all away], I can make this more welcoming [providing you with something that you enjoy even though you are contractually obligated to obey my commands without payment/reward], if you wish."
From episode 5:
Alastor to Husk: "It's nothing I can't handle, don't worry, Husker. [Proceeds to walk away, leaving the conversation] Who in their right mind would cross me? [Continues to walk away, posing the question as rhetorical and not requiring an answer]."
Husk to Alastor: "... You've been gone a while. And it's not like anybody knows why---"
Alastor to Husk: "They don't need to know. [And it does not need to be discussed further, so leave it alone.] And don't you worry your fuzzy head about it. [Drop it. Drop it now. Don't pick it up]"
Husk to Alastor: "You may own my soul, but I ain't your fucking pet!"
[Personally, I think Val would have instantly backhanded AD for that alone.]
Alastor to Husk: "Hmhm. But you are [So stop talking, just let it go, I'm letting a lot slide here]."
Husk to Alastor [the owner of his soul, who has slaughtered overlords of Hell]: "Big talk for someone who is also on a leash."
Alastor to Husk: "Aha. What did you say? [Now you have tested my patience too much!]"
*Sip, sip*
In the pilot, Husk openly and without fear insults and cusses at Alastor. And what does Alastor, the owner of his soul, do? He lets it slide.
In the one scene between them in the hallway, Alastor essentially still does nothing even though it is evident that Husk struck a nerve. At least twice over in this scene alone, Alastor gives subtle hints to Husk that it is best he just stops. And it is not like he even dismisses Husk's worries about Mimzy or even his absence. It's more along the lines of, "Oh, I know she is in trouble and came here for me to clean up her mess, but I am a bit occupied at the moment dealing with the actual King of Hell, so I'll get to it when I get to it. Just keep her busy for now." And in regards to his absence, he makes it abundantly clear that Husk is better off just not mentioning anything about it. He cuts Husk off, and essentially says, "Look, just keep quiet about it. It's no one's business but mine and I'm fine, I can handle it, so let's just leave it alone."
All the talk people say of Alastor having a big ego, oh undoubtedly, but it makes sense why Husk is in pride in this one scene alone. Alastor tells him "let it go," and moves to walk away from the conversation.
But Husk pushes. And pushes. And on that final shove, I think Husk even knows before Alastor got mad that he went TOO far.
*Sip, sip*
And Alastor still, for the most part, does nothing.
He reminds Husker that he owns his soul, pulls on the chain just to knock Husker off-kilter, and then, rather demonically, tells Husk to not EVER mention the fact that he is leashed again. Honestly, with what Alastor COULD do to Husk ... that was letting him off SUPER easy. Like, Husk should be kissing his feet that that threat was the only punishment he received for that comment.
Val? Forget it. AD would probably be filming for 3 days straight. Alastor doesn't even touch Husk.
This move is also a sense of security for Alastor, I think. Husk probably thought this was just another comment that would result in Alastor just ignoring it. But it takes Alastor by surprise and destroys his comfort. He loses himself in a fit of fury and pulls on Husk's leash to remind both Husk and himself, "Yeah, I might be leashed but I still own YOUR soul, Husk! So do not test me!"
*sip, sip*
So, yeah, Husk gets scared, as he should. Alastor is terrifying.
Should this lessen our opinion of Alastor as it seems to have done with so many fans?
No. Absolutely not. If anything, this scene provides balance to that paradox I supplied earlier; how we like the evil characters because of the good they could do but we should also like them because they are evil and should be expected to do evil things.
Alastor IS evil. He owns Husk's soul.
And yet, this evil overlord allows Husk to get away with soooo much. And when Husk oversteps, as he absolutely did, to not even be smacked by Alastor speaks volumes of Alastor's opinion of Husk.
*Sip, sip*
Here is my speculation:
Husk obviously knows more about Alastor than most. But Alastor owns hundreds if not thousands of souls. Husk is someone he calls on often, obviously. Husk knows Alastor is leashed. Faustisse, a former employee of Spindle Horse, and one of the original teammates beside Viv for the Hazbin project said that Alastor regards Husk as one of his closest friends. Perhaps not friend, but maybe one of his closest confidants. Why else would Husk know that Alastor is leashed? Granted, we cannot tell from the dialogue if Husk knows where Alastor was for 7 years or even if he knows who Alastor is leashed to. To some extent, though, Alastor must trust Husk.
In this scene, Husk violates that trust. He deserved to be threatened, reminded, and terrified. I adore Husk. He is one of my favorite characters and when I saw the hallway scene, I thought Husk deserved way worse than what he got.
And Alastor still takes what Husk had to say about Mimzy into consideration. He still tells Mimzy, a friend he has had since he was alive, that she needs to leave.
*sip, sip*
Yes, Alastor is evil. And it is soooooo good to see him BE evil. And not for a good cause but just because someone got under his skin. He owns Husk and he lets Husk off very easy. So to see him lose his temper and not even physically hurt Husk allows the nugget of possible, minuscule glimmer of somewhat kindness to linger.
I loved the hallway scene. It did a fantastic job of showing us what Alastor COULD be if he really wanted to, why you shouldn't mess with him, and how he elicits fear.
Val lords over his souls through physical abuse. Alastor does it mentally when called for. They are two totally different overlords with really no comparison to be made between them save for this: they are both evil.
*Sip, sip*
Alastor ate in episode 5 and left no crumbs. He remains, quite possibly, the most interesting character in the show. I cannot wait to discover more of him and watch him be absolutely wicked towards others.
Cheers to you, Radio Demon. If I were in Hell and had to be leashed to anyone, I would want to be leashed to you.
*Sip, sip*
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familyagrestefanblog · 5 months
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I find it... kinda irritating how saying that Hero Gabriel is still a failure of a father even if he's not a bad person is apparently somewhat of a hot take.
It is irrelevant at what extreme end of the moral spectrum Gabriel is - sadistic villain or heroic saint - fact still remains that you wouldn't notice either with Monarque or Hesperia that they are fathers at all, while simultaneously both Adriens are clearly depicted as teenagers who basically have to re-settle themselves into their lives after they were emotionally orphaned in every sense that matters.
It is irrelevant that Alt Gabriel is a hero, not a bad person or that he wasn't outright abusive like our Gabriel, nothing will change the fact that Griffe Noire Adrien's path to healing goes the same route as our Adrien's.
And that is AWAY from his father, not WITH him.
Griffe Noire at the end was roughly were our Adrien started off at the beginning of the show, just this time with a better path ahead Ladynoir wise since they know their identities.
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He changed for the better when our Adrien gave him the self-acceptance, understanding and sympathy he didn't receive from Alt Gabriel or anyone else for the matter.
Helped him overcome the grief of loosing their mother and accepting that the self-harming behavior he's acting on (or both of them) is not something she would want for them.
There are 2 reasons why Alt Adrien couldn't get over his mother's death, and that's 1) because unlike our Adrien, Alt Adrien didn't try finding new happiness in friendship, and 2) because he too couldn't count on his remaining parent (Gabriel) which made him feel his mother's loss even worse.
Alt Gabriel could be the greatest hero of all time and he still would be a fucked up father because he was so busy being a saint that he apparently barely was a father. When alt Gabe cries in the sewer one would think he'd bring up his child as one of his main motivations, but no, he doesn't.
Because Hesperia is just as little characterized as a FATHER as Monarque.
That aspect of Gabriel didn't change.
Hesperia didn't even fucking know that his son is Griffe Noire either, how attentive to you think this man IS??
Alt Adrien goes on the same path as our Adrien and that's away from being emotionally dependent on his father - the way a 14 year old should normally ALLOWED TO BE bc thats NATURAL and how it's supposed to be - to make friends, but most importantly he sure as hell went on being emotionally dependend on HIS Maribug the way our Adrien was/is
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Especially the last picture is extremely telling (and one would think our Marinette would finally start paying attention bc Griffe Noire's change right in front of her eyes is literally all she would need to help her fully understand HER Chat Noir's behavior and how that came to be. But apparently we can't ever have Marinette pick up on the most obvious stuff about Chat Noir's problems).
Unlike Toxinelle who is waving goodbye while holding Griffe's hand, HE is not acknowledging our dimension anymore even when he's the last one to enter the portal by a good bit, bc he's so fixated on his Maribug as his whole world bc just like our Adrien he's literally emotionally an orphan and needs an anchor like everyone else.
Good chance that Toxinelle thinks they're just normally holding hands and she's merely going in first, but no, he is letting her lead him out. He doesn't care whats behind or ahead of him, he's just seeing her.
Alt Gabriel is an awful father and you can tell because Alt Adrien literally has to re-settle in life similar to an orphan while his father is still alive and living in the same damn house!
THAT'S what decides if Alt Gabriel is an awful father, NOT him running around as a charming hero. The quality of parenthood is NOT measured by how "good of a person" the parent is, it's measured by the child's fucking well-being
And I don't know if you noticed it by now, but this is the same logic as our Gabriel being hailed a hero after his death. The special already elaborates on this new angle of Gabriel suddenly being a "hero" while he very clearly was a monstrous failure of a father (and person).
So what side are YOU gonna be on here?
Are you going to victim blame Adrien by just declaring Gabriel Agreste a great, blameless and loving father now because that's what you're being told at face-value while the narrative conveniently plays the case in Gabriel's favors by removing all of them from the dimension they are actually from so his faults are being mostly covered up, and Adrien's looks worse without its proper context of their home-dimension and father-son dynamic
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Or are you going to fucking LOOK at the child this amazing hero is emotionally abandoning on a daily in way too many ways and ask yourself if that's the result of a competent and attentive parent?
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ilynpilled · 1 year
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Something so sexy about Jaime’s most heroic act being doomed from the get go in every way. It damns him for one, like there is no action to take in the situation he is in without huge cost. So many vows yadda yadda, you are damned either way. But in general, a nuke being under the city is something you cannot come back from. It is meant to be a death sentence to the place, the culmination of the trajectory the kingdom was on. Aerys doomed the city with that. The logistics of removal is not all that simple. If you tell Ned and he even believes you? Great! Now who else will have to know? Who can be trusted with it? How will you remove it? We do not even know all precise locations, we had to kill all the pyromancers. How do you make sure it is not accidentally set off? On top of that, the city is filled to the brim with corruption. Full of players who would love to use and exploit that kind of power. The information itself is dangerous. The wildfire functions as a great metaphor as a result. It is festering corruption. You cannot erase the caches at this point. The closest you can get to that is bury the knowledge. He is still haunted by an endless stream of burning bodies. An event that never happened: “In his dreams the dead came burning, gowned in swirling green flames. Jaime danced around them with a golden sword, but for every one he struck down two more arose to take his place.” When he hears that Tyrion made use of it, he is immediately reminded of his greatest fear: “Jaime saw green flames reaching up into the sky higher than the tallest towers, as burning men screamed in the streets. I have dreamed this dream before.” His faith in institutions is also below ground by then, like you see it in his weirwood dream, he tells the truth to his heroes and it does nothing. It is not about Ned, he is not the one that comes out, even though he assumed he would be. “It was never him.” They damn him to darkness anyway for his act and prioritize feudalistic moral constructs. All these contradictions are what makes his fire go out in the dream. But the belief that you can bury all this, and therefore prevent the existence of an Aerys 2.0, does nothing but stall the inevitable. KL’s supposed savior, Robert, the man leading the rebellion, who would slay the “evil dragon”, just led to stagnation. He did not wash out the corruption in it, he just sat on top of it and let it fester. He rues Robert, he says so. One bad king to another. The wildfire problem is more complicated than a single mad man. Its tragedy is rooted in enablement and escalation. There is a reason the pyromancers are more emphasized in the confession. I read it as symbolic of the systemic issues permeating the city, because those are what allowed it to get to the point that it did in the first place. Brienne knows about the wildfire now too, but she also does not comprehend what a volatile ticking time-bomb it is. They do not know how it works, and how it becomes more dangerous over time. Jaime might even save that damn city twice with the Cers and valonqar set up, but both times it is gonna be ultimately “pointless”, bc KL cannot be saved. But that does not matter, because the fact that someone acted back then has meaning. Thematically, that action itself is a triumph.
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kujakumai · 7 months
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Personally, I agree that TKB has every right to feel anger and take action to prevent the tragedy of Kul Elna from happening ever again. But the second he says "I'm going to work with a demon to destroy the entire world" is when I put my foot down, because that makes him no better than what the ruling class did to him; it makes him worse because he's inflicting that to other innocent people. Neither Atem and TKB are completely correct or wrong, but the story siding with only Atem is morally iffy
-TKB isn't a real person independently arriving at moral actions, he is a character in a narrative whose structure and characters are consciously designed by human beings to tell a particular story
-Saying "Well, TKB was still evil because he wanted to destroy the world" is accepting the premise of the narrative and TKB's motivation as if it sprung forth from the ether, ever-extant in its present form and incapable of being written any other way
-The narrative of MW paints a portrait of a world that is visibly and systematically unjust and whose domestic and military power is derived from the literal death and exploitation of the poor; it then has a character, TKB, make very deliberate criticisms of this system, and puts them in direct contrast with Priest Set and Akenhadin's own ongoing corruption.
-Since again, this is a story being crafted with intent, this contrast directly leads audiences to conclude that TKB's criticism is valid, and the author intends us to reach this conclusion and has deliberately set up his commentary. Determining that TKB is right about the monarchy is the logical conclusion of the facts and narrative tools we as the audience are given.
-However, instead of leading us to a satisfying conclusion based on this setup, the story instead tacks on "...but he wants to destroy the world, so we can kill him!" and never meaningfully addresses the questions about good and evil or the nature of the throne, nor does Atem ever have to really face them. It disposes of TKB and quickly sets about putting a heroic coat of paint on a mostly unchanged Set and reducing everything to a quick and tidy good vs. evil shonen fight scene, contradictions be damned.
-The problem with this plot twist isn't fantasy-monarchism. It's that it is actively disorientating. We as readers have been told in loud, bold letters for over two dozen chapters what this story is about and what message it's trying to communicate (a very powerful one, based on how passionate people become about it!) and the story simply...dumps it all, and starts pretending to be a totally different story. Like none of that earlier stuff mattered and we should suddenly be content with power-of-friendshipping the bad guy into dust.
-Tongue-in-cheek declarations that "TKB was right!" aren't moral statements about TKB or Atem's actions, because Thief King and Atem aren't people, they are characters--a narrative tool the author is using to tell a story. And again: the narrative is telling us that TKB is right and the monarchy is troubled and unjust. Vocal declarations that Thief King was right are really an expression of disgust for a clumsy narrative betrayal. "MW told me this excellent story, got me invested, very deliberately set me up to draw these conclusions about the story it was telling and the message it wanted me to get...and then tacked on the ending for a completely different story that had nothing to do with any of that! This is bullshit!"
-If TKB were a mere generic evil, who intended to destroy the world for his own gain and had no compelling criticisms of the hero's world or complex tragedy, he wouldn't be anywhere near as interesting (see: the anime, which did almost exactly this), but I don't think people would be half as worked up about it. It would be neat, at least, because if everything is a fantasy good vs. fantasy evil from the start, then at very least the story would match its ending. No one would feel misled or disorientated.
-But the story did ask moral questions of our characters, and it did so carefully, deliberately, and with fireworks; it is therefore culpable for failing to even attempt to have them answer them.
-At the same time, the trope of the "rebel turned murderous extremist" is well-worn and troublesome. There are ten thousand examples. A villain who challenges the status quo, who takes issue with real problems, revolutionaries and rabble-rousers with righteous fury...but they want to, uh, kill innocent people also! for some reason! which is why our heroes (defenders of the status quo) need to get rid of them and we don't need to listen to what they are saying!
-Why does fiction so frequently depict people angry about real societal problems, and who act to change them, as people whose legitimate complaints are inexorably tainted by tacked-on inexplicable violence?
-Who benefits when fiction frequently conflates righteous criticism of injustice with supervillainy? When fiction conflates heroism with stalwart defense of the current system? How do we carry these narratives with us into the real world?
-You are criticizing Thief King as if he were a person. I'm not, and I'm not interested in doing that. I am criticizing the poor formulation of a story.
-anyway. TKB did nothing wrong
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The next one who comes at me with why Ascended Astarion is evil, I'm going to get really annoying real quick and ask for proof.
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Kill 7,007 spawn? No, he just put monster hunters who would have been PAID to do that job out of work in one fell swoop AND saved Baldur's Gate time, money, and lives from a vampire epidemic. Are you saying you wanted to see thousands upon thousands of innocents dead? He AND Tav should be considered heroes for this.
He killed a vampire lord who was kidnapping and killing people off the streets. Again, heroic work.
Kill the Gur in the underground? Self-defense, they attacked first, like most of the NPCs in this damn game.
Talks about his powers and what he's going to do with them? Cool, but where's the action? What has he done since then? Proof of conspiracy? Considering he's not a details guy, nothing has been written down and everything is still in Cazador's name and handwriting.
Can't count his romance stuff cuz he doesn't do anything that would be considered evil either. He lashes out at you like any other person would if you broke up with them out of hurt. Hell, with how some entitled people act on here, I expect the same out of them.
Withers and the Narrator tell you something in-game or in the epilogues? Hearsay. Pics, or didn't happen. We'll fall back on the "show, don't tell" policy.
In conclusion, I submit to you that Ascended Astarion is NOT an evil villain, but a dark hero with an enormous ego that will bite him in the ass later. He is living up to the whole "Dark Rogue" archetype.
-
Don't try to take the moral high road and preach at people who know what they're doing about what evil is. Someone who loves and analyzes villains knows how to play devil's advocate just to piss faux heroes like you off. I'll turn this around so hard and fast it'll make your head spin and Saul Goodman blush. That's a promise AND a threat.
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I'd say I'd do it for Spawn Astarion but that doesn't seem to be necessary and most, if not all, of his shit can be chalked up in one word: Cazador. Unwilling participant.
Don't. Push. Me.
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raineandsky · 8 months
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#47
The agency is a place of horror, in the villain’s opinion—pristine white walls, blaring overhead lights, perfectly symmetrical tiled flooring. The place is, quite frankly, a minimalist nightmare.
So it’s a shame that the villain has to sit here, bored out of their mind, in the place they hate the most, with the person they hate the most.
“Oh, no, turn back the way you were facing.” The hero gestures slightly behind them with the tip of their pencil. A clipboard sits in their lap, well-loved and coated in pen marks. “The angle’s off.”
“I don’t know why you couldn’t just take a two second photo like everyone else,” the villain mutters with a scowl, adjusting uncomfortably in their cuffs, and the hero laughs like they’re joking.
“Because crime in the city is at an all-time-low and I’m bored.” The hero points a bit more violently with their pencil. “Now turn.”
They’re not allowed any goddamn dignity in this place, so they admit defeat and shift over slightly. The hero nods approvingly when they do, finally turning their gaze back down to paper in their hand, and the pair fall into silence. 
“You know I’m gonna be busting out, right?” the villain says after a moment. The quiet was nice until they figured out that the weird screeching noise downstairs was human voices. “I don’t really see the point in me being here.”
The hero hums in lazy acknowledgement. “I know, but catching you gives me something to do.” The pencil scratches down the page in waves, their eyes still resting on their masterpiece. “And you make for a good muse.”
Thank god their drawing is so interesting, or the hero would see the light blush staining the villain’s face. “I know I do,” they say in a vain attempt to save their quickly plummeting dignity. “I’m hot shit, everyone knows that.”
“Yeah, you’re pretty conventionally attractive. Makes for some good lines in a study.”
Why did they have to phrase it like that? “You can admit I’m hot, it’s okay. Everyone else does.”
“Everyone else lets visual aesthetic blind them to their sense of morality, but I don’t.” The hero’s gaze finally flits back up to them, the ghost of a smirk on their face. “You’re conventionally attractive. Take it or leave it.”
The villain scowls. “I’m going to pretend that’s a compliment.”
“It is in heroic terms.” The hero turns their clipboard around to show the criminal their drawing. “What do you think? Looks like you, right?”
The hero’s a damn good artist. It’s amazing. “It’s shit.”
Their answer only gets another laugh as the clipboard gets discarded on the desk. The hero gets to their feet with a stretch, motioning for the villain to do the same. “Let's get you to your cell so I can go on my lunch.”
The villain’s henchmen are probably nearby. A few minutes in a cell are nothing. “I hope your lunch tastes like dirt.”
The cell is just as grim as the villain remembers. The hero shoves them inside mercilessly, clunking the door shut behind them.
“Looking forward to chasing you down on your way out,” the hero says innocently. They glance down at their watch as it beeps rhythmically at them. “And for the record, I do think you’re hot.”
The villain makes a face somewhere between disbelief and flattered. “I thought you said I—”
“I’m on my lunch break.” They hold their watch up, reading exactly 13:00. “I can say what I want when I’m not on company time.”
“You follow the stupidest sets of rules like a dog,” the villain spits as the hero turns on their heel. “You have to admit you’re a little pathetic.”
“Your guys don’t usually take long to get here, right?” They’re already at the door, loitering on the threshold. “I’ll see you in, what, half an hour?”
“Fuck you.”
The hero laughs again. “You wish. Take the drawing on your way out, yeah?”
The villain very much intends to. They deserve it for the time out of their day, at least.
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bestworstcase · 3 months
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You've said before that RWBY's writing can be non-formulaic other than the 3 Act structure that it follows. What is it then that makes RWBY's story and writing so different (especially from more typical pop culture writing) in that regard?
to be completely honest i think a significant factor is that rwby is written by people who care about telling a story and have a very clear vision of what story they want to tell that they are resolutely sticking to no matter what. rwby is pretty remarkable in its sheer indifference to 1. what the fandom wants and 2. mass market appeal. paraphrasing but isn't one of the writers on record saying that they keep an eye on the fandom and if they see a lot of people not getting something they try to make it more obvious in the text? <- i think about this all the time.
bc like. before V9 i tried really hard to manage my expectations because i didn't feel sure, at all, that i wasn't just reading around a bad case of protagonist-centered morality—like i could count on one hand the number of people besides me whose writing on salem aligned with my interpretation and what i thought was going to happen thematically in V9 was so DRASTICALLY different than what the fandom largely seemed to expect and when you're that far off the common thinking then it's kind of like, is it really everyone else who's wrong or is it just you?
and then it turned out i was right. i was in fact so right that i underestimated how hard V9 would go on delivering what was set up in the first eight volumes.
which is fucking mind-boggling to imagine from the writers' perspective. the fucking guts it take to have a finger on the pulse of this fandom and not budge an inch on what this story is about!
<- being formulaic is safe. it is easy. it's palatable. for all that everyone loves to complain about unoriginality, there are a lot of people who just want to be entertained by something familiar. rwby doesn't give a damn whether you like it or not, it's going to keep being the story that it is, you know?
so they're very willing to take creative risks. that's really the heart of it. but there are a few specific like, technical aspects of the narrative that make rwby what it is:
#1, the narrative status quo gets turned on its head not just once, but repeatedly. the fall of beacon, the lost fable, the fall of atlas, the ever after. and by my count there are at least two more key changes before the story ends. it's not all that common for stories to upend the narrative status quo once, let alone multiple times, but rwby is a story about change and the structure of the narrative reflects that. (this also synergizes quite well with the three-act structure.)
#2, the characters are wrong about all kinds of things in all kinds of ways, constantly. some of them lie. some of them make very confident, very wrong assumptions. all of them are working with incomplete information. the ancient immortal character who's spent millions of years alone is cryptic and awkward. half the cast belongs to the keeping secrets cult. the goddamned avatar of knowledge is an unreliable narrator because ruby asked specifically for ozpin's side of the story. the narrative blithely informs the audience in V5 that "truth is hard to come by" is an important enough theme to say it out loud and then throws the lost fable down like a gauntlet. good luck.
#3, related to the above, in most stories the heroic characters know (or learn) and believe the story's themes and the villainous characters reject the theme and embody the anti-themes. in rwby, theme/anti-theme is decoupled from narrative role: ozpin is on the heroic side, but he represents many of the story's anti-themes (fear, distrust, lack of faith in humanity, blind obedience of authority); salem is the main villain and notional big bad, but she believes the theme—so much so that the fandom regularly quotes her soliloquy to express the core theme: "even the smallest spark of hope is enough to ignite change," and "there will be no victory in strength." this opens the door to a lot of really interesting character complexity and is critical for making "salem wins by negotiation" narratively possible at all.
#4, the story takes fairytales seriously. what sets rwby apart from a lot of "deconstructed fairytale" stories is that the point of taking the fairytale logic apart is not to be clever or edgy or grimdark or hyperrealist or cynical about it; the conceit is a tragic, broken fairytale that keeps going forever until it's mended because fairytales are not real but they are true. rwby rejects the moral and emotional simplicity of fairytales in order to weave a fairytale about lifelike characters rather than archetypes. that's a lot rarer than darker and edgier retellings or irreverent parodies by a wide margin.
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actuallyevilgay · 3 months
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Oneshot: Charmed
Ascended Astarion x male reader DNI if you are a minor. Dead dove, don’t eat. Please read my about before replying.
Content Warnings: Some Mind Control through a spell, but not for explicit purposes. Tav has a brief history of being a reluctant sex worker but has worked through his trauma. Summary: Tav runs into Astarion 10 years after the defeat of the netherbrain at a party hosted in Baldur’s gate. Notes: Tav would be of a long living race for some context. Obviously spoilers for act 3 etc. No heroic Tav.
A/N: I will be returning to the Apathy sometime soon, but holidays are busy and I had this oneshot in mind.
……
You are healthy. At least that’s what you tell yourself, strong as you are.. Some things are worse than the scars of your body from all the fighting you had to do ten years ago. Before the mind flayers and the tadpole, your life had been a mess. Living as a criminal and thief, willing to do anything morally questionable in order to survive. You shut off the part of yourself that was empathetic towards others, only to regain some of it when you made friends for the first time.
They didn’t know when they met you, what you’ve been through. And even as you told them, you could scarcely feel anything towards it yourself. Not until Astarion. Not until you met someone who understood. If anything, you thought what happened to him was even worse, but he refused to let you think that way. He couldn’t accept that.
When you were a young adult, one of your heists had gone severely wrong, a Zhentarim agent captured you. To repay your debts, you had to serve as a bed companion for some of the most heinous clients the organisation had. At the time, you didn’t care for the cost.. Just the outcome. Being a sex worker wasn’t all that bad, you had convinced yourself. You were treated well most of the time as long as you didn’t act out and did what you were asked to do. To play on every fantasy at the request of your paying customers.. Even if the money wasn’t yours to keep.
They provided you with clothing, food, and comfortable places to sleep. It was an exchange. Much better than sleeping on the streets and mobbing unwitting strangers.
The scars that were made during that time no longer itch and hurt. When the mind flayers for some reason decided to grab you on your way to escort someone, freedom was not something you had thought about in a very long time. The thought of having to find your own meals and make your own camp was strange and abnormal in the midst of everything. 
You could go anywhere you wanted. If not for the parasite problem that required fixing.
The adventuring days that followed left you with many beloved memories, as well as tearful ones. When Astarion tried to seduce you with his usual script, you simply looked him up and down and finished all his sentences, adding; ‘’I know what you’re doing.’’
‘’You’re not the only one looking for protection.’’
It wasn’t long until you ran into Zhentarim again, the dread sinked in.. And so your personal quest became a plot of revenge you didn’t know you so dearly wanted.
It was so satisfying to fight side by side and kill off every damn Zhent you could get your hands on. You took great pleasure in using your newfound strength and allies for this purpose.
The rage you had subdued before spilled out with every breath you took from them.
Equality was very important to you, equal exchange.. And so, you helped Astarion get his revenge and gain the powers he so craved.
You were in love with this man, and he had loved you in return. However.. During the night after the defeat of his torturer, Astarion’s choice of words put you off really bad. You hadn’t processed your trauma at the time, you hadn’t given it space.. It reminded you too much of something you’ve gone through before. A conversation you’ve had before.
‘’I’m not.. Ready to make such a commitment.’’ You hesitated, even if you wanted to be with him forever.. To be safe in his arms, it hit a little too close to home. He wasn’t the one who hurt you, yet your instincts made you brace yourself.. Set up walls. Keep him out.
His fears and anxieties of losing you made him overreach and speak out of turn, so you broke up with him out of fear and heartbreak.
The morning after was the worst memory of your already plentiful collection of awful memories. It broke you, over and over again. 
Maybe he had changed.. But you couldn’t judge him for craving power. You had craved power yourself, as it was something you literally never had access to before mindflayers kidnapped you. All you knew was petty crimes and reluctant servitude.
You didn’t hate it entirely after all.. Perhaps, had you been given the chance to become a sex worker on your own terms, choose your own clients and have your own autonomy, it wouldn’t have left you so damaged.
10 years pass by, The heroes of Baldur’s gate are invited to a party hosted as Wyrm’s crossing. Something about a statue being built in their honour.
When the invitation of Withers arrived at your doorstep, you weren’t on speaking terms.. With anyone for that matter. You avoided the city entirely. 
But this new invite, came to a Tav that had long since healed from his wounds. Come to terms with the things he’s been through. Embraced his sexuality, and grew more comfortable with the world around him.
In those ten years you’ve done all sorts of things, mostly adventure.. Solving mysteries, and occasionally helping your friends on their endeavours. Sometimes, you would re-indulge your vengeance and chase out whatever Zhentarim stronghold you could find on your travels. They feared you. They tried to be rid of you so many times.. But no, If you see Tav, try to be diplomatic. Screw that. If they dared to exist near you, they were as good as dead. And after some time, you rarely saw them again. Perhaps they had designed ways to avoid you entirely, business routes, hidden caches. As long as you didn’t see a Zhentarim symbol on your travels, you stopped caring about them.
One thing you hadn’t done was fall in love again. Gale had exclusively chased after you not too long ago, which you agreed to pursuing at first. Eventually Gale ceased his attempts at courting you, when he came to realise you were not over Astarion at all. 
‘’I’ve had my tribulations with my long lost affections for Mystra.. But Tav, this is different.’’
Gale eyed you with worried glances, his face had aged much the past ten years. You were trying. You wanted to fall in love again. You loved Gale, but it was clear you did not feel the same way as he did for you.
‘’I know we were planning to attend the party as a couple.. But I can’t let you do this to yourself.’’ Gale let out a deep sigh. ‘’Or to me, for that matter.’’
‘’Are you breaking up with me?’’ Your voice was more of a whispered mumble, rather than outright spoken. ‘’It.. It appears so.’’ Gale’s response made you realise he had matured more than you had the past 10 years. Not just physically. Emotionally.
You may have overcome the things that were done to you, but not your heartbreak. Whenever Gale wanted to talk badly about your past relationship, you shut down and refused to even think of Astarion that way. ‘’He has his reasons, he didn’t mean it.’’ Your defences barely made any stance. You were the one that ran away.
‘’What Astarion said to you was horrible, and if he wanted your forgiveness he should have chased after you, despite all his shortcomings.’’ Gale Reflected, only for you to stumble over your words and go silent.
‘’I can chaperone you at the party, Tav, so you don’t have to feel alone.. But let's not pretend this is something else anymore.’’ Gale put his hand over yours, giving you an assuring squeeze. ‘’I will always be your friend.’’ He smiled with such kindness, that it put tears to your eyes.
Then the realisation hit your gut. Astarion would likely be at the party, and that worried Gale more than trying to sway you over to him. Was Gale afraid of the Vampire Ascendant? Or was he simply worried for your wellbeing? No.. Gale definitely learned to care for his own wants. That’s why he broke up with you, not because of your ex being a powerful vampire lord. This relationship with Gale was never that official. You went on several dates, you’ve kissed him a few times. It didn’t get that much further. You didn’t want a rebound.
‘’You’ve gone through so many battles, Tav.’’ Gale released your hand. ‘’Focus on how far you’ve come.’’ 
The party at Wyrm’s crossing had a dress code. One you intended to follow. Ten years ago you wouldn’t have picked such flimsy attire, yet tonight you did. You wanted to show off as much as anyone else. And damn the hells, You looked great. Not just great- No, mesmerising.
It was somewhat revealing, showing your neckline and exposing a portion of your chest. It was loose  and comfortable around the transparent fabric of the sleeves, but tight around the waist. It had a cape akin to a draping sparkling veil, gently gliding over the ground with your every step. You were not here to escort someone, you were here to be celebrated. To show your face after you disappeared for ten years.
To save yourself from the stress of potentially seeing him, you crossed Astarion out of your mind and focussed on mingling and dancing with strangers and old friends alike. You were having fun, you haven’t smiled this much in some time. It was a good idea to come.
‘’You haven’t aged a day!’’ Shadowheart exclaimed, ‘’Neither have you-’’ You quickly responded, grinning as she examined your outfit. ‘’Are you well? What am I saying.. Of course you are well! Look at you!’’ Her hands gestured towards the fine embroidery. 
‘’That must’ve cost a fortune,’’ She muttered. ‘’..Do you-’’ She was unsure how to word it, because it may have come out wrong otherwise. ‘’Uhm- Which one..’’
‘’Oh, I don’t have a boyfriend.. And I didn’t like the outfits gifted by the party’s benefactors.’’ You replied, waving your hand awkwardly, hoping to cross out her assumptions of the list. ‘’I bought this myself with my own money. Have to show off I’m my own person somehow, right?’’ Some part of you felt strange saying that, even if it was true. 
Your eyes glanced towards Gale, seeing him chat with Minthara of all people. The conversation must’ve been interesting enough for her to stick around.. Huh. People change.
Astarion changed.
His eyes met yours, and you both froze in place. He was standing all the way to the other side of the hall, surrounded by a large group of nobles. His expression was not the one you remembered of him.. You couldn’t tell if he was shocked or surprised.. Or- More likely, he had been staring at you for a while now and was startled to see you look back.
You turned your head abruptly, hoping he would ignore you. The walls you’ve so carefully crafted to guard your heartbreak all came back to you. Don’t even think about it.
Don’t go to him. Don’t give him that pleasure.
Every fibre in your being was fighting it. Shadowheart continued talking to you, telling you of a story about reconnecting with her parents. Her mother had passed away a few years ago, and she got a selunite hairpin to remember her by, proudly showing it off.
‘’I wonder if Dame Aylin and Isobel are doing well.’’ You muttered, making Shadowheart look at you with excitement in response. ‘’Oh trust me, they are.’’ She continued to gossip, talking about Karlach and Wyll, and even her own relationship with Lae’zel.
‘’There was some suspicion you were dating Gale, actually.’’ She whispered, leaning in, ‘’Is it true? Is that why you arrived together?’’
‘’I didn’t realise you were such a romantic, Shadowheart..’’ You shook her head. ‘’No, I’m probably not going to fall in love again. ..That part of my life is over.’’ The confidence in your voice lacked some strength, but it was enough to satisfy her.
You did want to fall in love with Gale. He was great- even if your lifespans greatly differed, you wanted to stay with him. Yet your affections were more platonic than they ever were romantic. Forcing yourself to be with him was not good for either of you. And thus, it was better to not speak of it again. Lest you hurt him or yourself more.
Out of a hint of desperation in your heart, you quickly glanced back to where you’ve caught Astarion staring back at you before. He was gone. Likely moved on to another row of nobles and high status people to mingle.. Good. He wasn’t planning on talking to you then. Good.
Not good.
Shadowheart took only a moment to wrap up another story before leaving you entirely alone.
Across the crowd, you tried to find your other friends again, casually dancing with some strangers to the music and answering redundant questions of fans.
Exhausted of all the moving around, you positioned yourself near a table, and took a break to drink some wine. 
Once the dear folk of Baldur’s gate had decided to leave you be, one noble in particular decided to finally approach you.. None other than Astarion himself.
‘’Hmm, I have to say, Darling, I’m a little disappointed you didn’t accept my gift.’’ He casually uttered without greeting you, looking you over as he grabbed a drink for himself. ‘’Wh-’’ You weren’t sure what he was referring to, before he gestured to your outfit. ‘’This is.. You are.. Hmm.’’ He stopped himself, trying to think of a better compliment. ‘’Leaving me speechless, as always. Gods- You’re beautiful, just as I remember.’’ You stare at him, freezing up. Get a hold of yourself.
‘’Oh.’’ Was all you can muster.
‘’Oh?’’
‘’..You were talking about the outfits I was offered to wear.’’
He looked to you with a brow raised, only to realise you must’ve thought he was talking about his Eternal Gift. No, no, no. That wouldn’t have been just a little disappointing. It was something he regretted not being able to give to you.. Clearly. His expression said a lot of things, but disgust was not one of them.
To avoid talking about the breakup, you tried to make conversation.
‘’Which.. One was yours? There was a lot, mind you. And you didn’t leave a letter, I would’ve known.’’
He sighed. ‘’Clearly not something to your taste,’’ He smirked. ‘’Otherwise we’d be wearing matching outfits.’’ You couldn’t tell if that was a joke or a flirt. There was a glint of entitlement in his voice.
You examined his garments, recalling the surplus of outfits you unboxed. All gifts for you to keep. A Majority of which you tossed, only to recall a particular outfit you liked being shelved for another time. ‘’..Ah. That one.’’
‘’That one? Is that all I’m getting out of you?’’ He turned his nose up, trying to hide his annoyance.
You tried to understand what he was even trying to achieve with this conversation.. His tone of speaking felt bitter, condescending at times. 
‘’Darling, you must realise by now that I am still not over you.’’ He admitted, leaning in closely.
‘’I hope you have been well.’’ He smiled gently, there was some mischief in his eyes.
What the hell are you supposed to do with that? Hug him- Kiss him- Tell him how you feel! Tell him what you want- Tell him. Tell him.
No! Don’t tell him! He said awful things. He’s not even acknowledging them- Does he know? Does he care? What the fuck is wrong with him? Walk away.. Walk away.. Please, feet.
You stayed as you were, sipping your wine, waiting for him to continue speaking as you forgot to answer his question. He sighed- Perhaps reciting something in the back of his mind. Nefarious plans? Scripts? No. They don’t work on you. You could tell when something wasn’t from the heart.
He could think of what to say for days on end, plan poetry, to win you back he had to be honest on his intentions.
‘’Tav, I want you to be with me.’’ Came from his lips, his expression changed, a softened gaze. Fearful. Anxious. For a moment your heart fluttered, and then.. ‘’As you should be. You should’ve been-’’ The possessive undertone made you take a step back.
The words fell out of your mouth before you could think.
‘’If I wasn’t ready then, why would I be now?’’
Your once so confident expression, replaced by a gloom. ‘’So forward, aren’t you? Always talking about what you want.’’ You let out a deep sigh as He grew quiet to your defiance, leaning in again.
‘’Don’t.’’ You held up your hand to keep him from getting closer. ‘’I can’t take it. I can’t.’’ Tears swell up in your eyes. ‘’You’re going to say hurtful things again, toss me aside like it doesn’t matter how I feel.’’ A deep breath.
‘’How could I consider Forever, when we were about to fight the Netherbrain? Rush into marriage? Right then and there? Astarion.. You were asking too much of me. I had things to work through. You too, I gather.’’
His posture straightened again as you stopped talking. Your eyes turned to the wall beside you. Hoping he’d walk off, hoping he’d lose interest in you. You wanted to be with him so bad, it hurt you more that he actually still wanted you.
He was considering what you were saying, puzzling it  and turning it in his head. ‘’I admit, that was wrong of me.’’ His words broke the silence. ‘’I was more afraid of losing you, and then I lost you.’’ There was a crack in his voice- his posture changed again.
Mischievous and questionable.
‘’I’m sorry, Tav.’’ His hand reached up and turned your chin to face him, wiping away a few tears with his thumb. ‘’Forgive me, Darling.’’ A faint, but sad smile coated his lips.
What you did next, he didn’t expect.. You pulled him close by his collar, about to kiss him, only to withdraw and turn away. He wrapped his arms around you with a strength you never felt before. ‘’Please, don’t make this harder than it is.’’ He pleaded, needy. ‘’I know- You don’t trust me now, but I can’t have you walk off now. Not again. I won’t.’’
You stopped squirming, accepting that his grip on you was one of desperation and not to hurt you. ‘’If you want to talk, you don’t have to corner me.’’ You replied with a hint of discomfort.
‘’This will be over soon.’’ His response concerned you, chilling. ‘’What? What’ll be over soon?’’
You raised your brows as he buried his face in your neck, feeling him grin against your exposed skin.
Maybe you should’ve picked a different outfit.. He could bite you and drain you just there and then, easily. He is a vampire lord. The damn vampire ascendant himself. You fool.
You shivered at the thought, expecting teeth in your neck any moment.
‘’Don’t worry darling, I’ve made arrangements.’’ He removed his face from the crook of your neck and stroked your cheek. His undead lungs heaved with a breath of excitement.
‘’-What? What are you saying?’’ Fear overtook you, your eyes darting around trying to find your friends. ‘’They are fine, I promise! I would never hurt them.’’ He hoped to see you calm down, loosening his grip around your waist.
In that same second, you manage to twist yourself free, so he grabs your arm and pulls you back, placing a hand to your chin to make you look him in the eye. ‘’Impero te.’’
The Charm spell takes hold, and you stop fighting him. You knew this spell. You’ve used it yourself before, many times. It was particularly useful during heists, or to get a client to stop being rough with you. You’ve had this cast on you by foes before, as invasive as it is. Yet.. This was different. You were self aware enough to notice the change. The walls.. They just fell. All the mental defences, all the reasons to push him away and run off just dropped. The pain you felt from his hurtful words ten years ago stung one more time, as you relaxed in his arms. Frozen in time, unwilling to move away from him.
Why did you say no again? His eyes look to you with sadness, before pulling you in a hug and pushing your face into his chest. He gently caresses through your hair, sighing with some sense of relief.
‘’I would never want to hurt you,’’ The guilty tone in his voice echoes as he places a kiss on your head. ‘’Just this once. Please forgive me.’’ His sadness burns through you, you touch his face affectionately on instinct.
He stops you from trying to kiss him this time. ‘’Not like this.’’ He replies. ‘’..Not like this.’’ He repeats.
You barely hear the sound of the chaos behind you, Astarion makes sure to cover your eyes with his embrace when he notices it. The charm makes you focussed on all those feelings you pushed aside the past ten years.. Gods.. Ten years since he last held you. Ten years since you kissed.
As obsessed with you as he was, he refused to take advantage of you with the spell.
He only used it to restrain you from running off, no matter how much of your bottled feelings came spilling out. 
You held onto him tightly, your fingers entangled in his fine garments. Some of the strings of embroidery had come loose from how deep your fingers dug into the fabric.
‘’My sweet, come.’’ His arms guided you to walk with him into a different direction, still making sure you could not see what was happening.
His grip then tightened a little, firm- but gently, aware the spell was starting to wane. He could cast it again of course, to make it last longer. He hesitated. Once the spell ended, he could likely not do it as effectively again.. He was thinking about it.. Too late.
‘’Harpers!’’ You expected Jaheira’s voice, but it was someone else. Likely one of their high ranking members. Dead bodies were scattered over the floor. Bodies of all sorts of people- on closer look- guards, nobles, people you didn’t expect Harpers to attack.
Vampire Spawn. These people were slain Vampire Spawn.
How many of the guests- All this time.. Were Astarion’s sleeper agents? You lost count, at the very least your friends were not among the bodies. Astarion may have done something to make them leave the building because you struggled to find them before.
The look on his face already told you what you needed to know: This was not part of his plan. The harpers had come to snuff him out. And they were failing- The battle was primarily overwhelmed by the amount of people on Astarion’s side.
Not once did they manage to get close. Astarion protectively guided you towards the exit, followed by The watch which at this point was obviously mostly made up of Vampire Spawn.
‘’You organised this party, didn’t you?’’ You questioned, allowing him to drag you along this time willingly. ‘’Why?’’
‘’This wasn’t the plan..’’ He mumbled something, cursed too, not answering. You tried to stop him from moving further. ‘’You want me to trust you? Talk. Use your words, Astarion! Use your fucking words!’’ Your anger was bursting through, rightfully so.
‘’You came either way, didn’t you?’’ Astarion’s response was a flat confession of truth.
As you stared into his eyes with the storm of emotions boiling through your own, his wicked smile turned to discomfort as an arrow found its way into his shoulder. As the Vampire Ascendant, he quickly discarded it, waiting for the wound to close up right away.
It didn’t heal. Shit.
‘’Godsdammnit-’’ He was about to curse some more, you pressed your hands to the wound to stop the bleeding. ‘’Let’s just go-’’ Without much else to say he lifted you up, shielded by his spawn who were fending off the Harpers. 
The harpers weren’t winning, but he did take a good hit. The arrow must've been laced with holy water or something to keep him from healing. Necrotic damage? Illmater’s arrows? His blood coated your hands.
Certainly he was strong enough to walk off such a blow. It did hurt him, he was not immune to pain. Your panic rose even if he remained calm and firm, carrying you out of the building followed by a horde of regular looking people all swarming around you. 
Gods.. He has been busy. The entire city must’ve been made of mostly spawn and loyal followers. Wherever your friends were- He found a good enough distraction for them not to notice this chaos.
The fight for the escape continued, leading back through the Basilisk gate, and making a way through suspiciously empty streets. Straight towards his crimson palace, only to stop at an alleyway and be guided into what seems to be secretly constructed tunnels.
‘’Urgh.’’ Astarion gritted his sharp teeth, the bleeding stopped, but it definitely hurt, even as it healed slowlier than it should. ‘’I Should’ve planned more, Harpers have no respect for romantics.. Oh Dear.’’ 
A group of Harpers found their way in, fighting the watch while Astarion focussed on keeping you safe in his arms. It bothered you,  he refused to put you down.
‘’YOU!’’ A loud voice echoed, followed by the loud battle screams of other Harpers. It was Rion, Jaheira’s adopted daughter. ‘’This is all your fault!’’
You looked to Astarion, questioning what he had done.. His face contorted in anger. ‘’I have warned you once. She became too nosy. I gave you a choice, Rion. Now I’m going to have to kill you. I’ll be quick, I am not as cruel as you think.’’
‘’A little pity party to get back with the hero of Baldur's gate? How cute.’’ Rion looked to you, then back to him. ‘’Oh no, I didn’t come here for you, most Gracious Vampire lord. I blame him. For you.’’
Rion drew her weapon, fearless. Surrounded with the remainder of her harpers. You did not recognise them, but they just voiced blaming you for Astarion… Yes. Because of you, Astarion was in the position he was in. Because of you, Rion and her band walked happily to their deaths.. To do what exactly? Revenge? Jaheira is probably dead, that would explain these events.
You questioned if you cared, you were living your life happily all this time even when alone..
Now these people were after your life. And they would come after you even if you escaped.
Getting lost amidst your thoughts, the fight continued. Unable to move from your position to help, without weapons and wearing flimsy thin party clothes. It was already stained by Astarion’s blood, getting torn as Astarion pulled you from side to side while fighting off his enemies with his other hand wielding a rapier.
You managed to get a few cuts on you here and there, as he killed them off one by one with ease, even without the help of his spawn.
Silence.
Astarion huffed, his eyes Feral, holding you firmly. The clothes you were so proud of were mostly torn, the cape was gone, the scraps of the top was only supported by your waist band. ‘’..I feel naked.’’ You murmured, processing everything.
Astarion then let you go, watching you cover your exposed skin with your arms, rubbing the chill away. The tunnels are cold and dead as are the bodies of the dead harpers and vampire spawn.
‘’There’s no going back from here, it seems.’’ You spoke, turning your heel, examining the tunnel distance. Astarion’s disgruntled, stressed expression scanned over you.
‘’Their blood is on my hands, as much as it is on yours.’’ Not literally of course, the only blood on your hands was whatever would pour from his flesh wound earlier.
Any other saintly person would scream murderer at him, but not you. You were a criminal before you were a hero. You’ve done heinous things yourself in the past and the present, perhaps this was karma at work.
‘’What was your plan?’’ You asked, trying to distract him from the chaos.
‘’To sweep your delicate self off your feet and take you out to dine,’’ Astarion sighed. ‘’One last attempt.. I set up this treasure hunt to get everyone else away from you, portalled them all the way to Waterdeep. Meticulous planning that depended on you coming at all.’’ There’s a slight dishonesty in his tone. Had it gone the way he wanted, he might’ve bitten you after managing to get you in his bed again. Without asking if he could. 
Knowing yourself, you probably would have accepted the date eventually, laying down all your defences. The charm spell he used earlier didn’t fully take hold of you, it just reminded you of how you felt about him, erasing the pain that kept you away. There was a breath of relief in your mind, acceptance.
‘’Perhaps you should’ve just done it rather than ask.’’ As you say this, you see it greatly upsets him, knowing what you meant instead. 
‘’No.. I should have never said I’d ruin your love. This is on me. I wanted to give you everything Tav, I wasn’t in control of my emotions.’’ His frustration with himself and forcing out his own confessions hurt whatever instinctive pride was in his veins.
The bodies of the guards and harper’s stench finally reached your noise, making you lose balance.
 ‘’I can be patient, If I have to be.. Even if I can’t stand it. For you- My treasure. My darling.’’ He caught you as you stumbled back in his arms. Humming happily and rubbing his face against your head. ‘’Little love-’’
A sting of pain and a sensation of warmth leaving your chest.. You look up to see Astarion look in terror.
He’s been stabbed in the back by a blade, a half dead Rion holds it, shaky, weakly. ‘’Fuck. You.’’ Is all she can muster before she drops down with a final breath. Still- That is not the cause of his shock.
The blade connected you two, while Astarion would easily recover from the new wound.. You would not. His cold blood streamed right into yours, numbing you. 
Would this turn you..?
Your sight blurs, and your mind slowly fades to the death thrums of your heart. Faint sounds of sobbing and screaming ring through your ears. As Astarion pulls you close.
The next time you regain consciousness, you feel even colder. A weight is hanging over you. You twitch, trying to gather what is happening.. Your eyes refuse to function. You can tell that you are lying on a bed, still wearing the same ruined party clothes. Astarion is on top of you.
There’s a sting on your shoulder, neck, as well as your wrist. The blurred image of Astarion holding your wrist  affectionately comes into vision. You barely feel his teeth in your skin when the delirium begins to set in again.
‘’Astarion..’’ Your words slur. ‘’..I love you..’’ 
Your vision starts fading once more alongside all sensation.
When you return to the waking world, you’ll forgive his transgressions, accepting his dark kiss.
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sowhumpshaped · 11 days
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Stray 31
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tw institutional/systemic pet whump, second person pov (and you're the pet!), morally dubious caretaker
"Please! Please, Rayan, you— you're the only one I have," you say, voice breaking a little.
"You said you just needed me not to report you... You said I wouldn't need to do anything more illegal," he almost pleads.
"I know! I know, I'm sorry, but... Please. I'll do anything. Please, help me."
Rayan's mouth presses into a thin line as he struggles to think of an answer, but eventually he closes his eyes and lets out a deep sigh. You don't even breathe as you wait for his response.
"I'll try to take a look," he mumbles. Your entire face lights up. He'll take a look! He'll take a look!
"Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're a lifesaver! Thank you so much!"
Your apparent gratitude seems to ease his anxiety a bit, and he gives you a shy little smile. "It's nothing, really..." It's most definitely not nothing, and he damn well knows that, but apparently flattery goes a long way when it comes to him. Not much of a surprise, given his heroic streak. "I'll go help out during the charity event this weekend. I'll try to see if I can get my hands on your papers."
"Thank you. Truly. You don't know how much this means to me."
"I know how important family is," he says sincerely. "I don't... agree that we should do this, but I understand where you're coming from. I'll do my best not to get either of us into trouble."
~
taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @project-xiii @justletmereadmywhump @sariadragon @sowhumpful @books-are-everything @littlespacecastle @captain-bo-bob-bobby @morning-star-whump @a-formless-entity @nyooom @catnykit @whumpinthepot @snakebites-and-ink @expressionless-fr @foresttheblep @honeybees-125 @marcotheflychair @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @idontreallyexistyet @what-if-i-just-did @writereleaserepeat @pokemaniacgemini @chaoticcreaturehideaway @taterswhump @secretheaveninhiding @ghost-whump @sausages-things @rainbowsandwhumperflies @ladyblogofficialreporter @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @enigmawriteswhump
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They had it comin'!
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Absolutely, we love justified venom here, don't mind me living vicariously through y/n here
Sero
"Pfft can you imagine tape of all things?"
The snickers of a clique mocking something that someone can't control were painful enough, but for them to be directed at Sero of all people?
Least to say you were livid. They always do this every time they see or hear about him, and you were down right sick of it. The scowl on your face becoming harder and harder to suppress.
Sero's heard it all before, all his life actually, but it still feels like stabs at his confidence. After all, tape doesn't directly seem heroic, and it's not like he could just reroll his quirk, no one can.
"Why be a hero of all things, he'd be better off in a scrapbooking store!" One of the preps blantently shouted, followed by the hoots and howls of their friends.
Sero huffed and dug in his pockets for his headphones to block out the comments, but you were a broken dam of rage.
"And what makes you all better?!" You stood up from your seat, fists clenched, ready for anything that might happen. "He's taking hero classes while you're struggling with your general studies! How hard is an entry level class huh?! How about we focus on the bare minimum you can accomplish before we start tearing down the people will will actually make a difference in this world?!"
You were a derailed train of rage and you planned on taking out the entire clique in one swoop. Their faces paled in shame as a couple of them stammered for a comeback or excuse for their behavior.
"Well? I'm waiting for a snarky remark about my quirk! Don't tell me you've fizzled out!" Your heart was racing as adrenaline pumped through your veins from the anticipation of what they might come up with.
The clique gathered their things and left, uncharacteristically quiet. You sank back into your chair letting out a decompressing sigh as you tried to calm your nerves.
"Damn, about time they got a taste of their own medicine" Sero chuckled a little before turning toward you
"Thank you, Y/n, I really appreciate you standing up for me like that. Who knows how many people they do that to. I bet they'll think twice before mouthing off like that again." Sero gave you a sincere smile before rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "Sooo, are you doing anything after school?"
Tokoyami
"There's no way he can be a pro hero with a quirk like that. It's too villainous."
"Especially with him barely having any control over it, can you imagine if he lost control around civilians? He's a massive liability for any agency."
You could feel frustration rising in veins, despite them whispering they were still loud enough for other people to hear, including Tokoyami.
You sneaked at glance at him to see if he heard them too, but it's always so hard to tell with him. Stoic natures are hard to read, but you can tell he was uncomfortable.
Sure everyone has a hard time mastering their quirks, some more than others, but does that really justify tearing down someone's dreams and aspirations? You started to tap your pencil on your notes, your mind split between focusing on the lesson and eavesdropping on their conversation.
"I just don't understand why there isn't a vetting process for risky quirks. One slip-up is all it takes to kill someone."
"Not to mention there's not enough heroes who can fight in the dark to begin with, and if there's an emergency at night he's either going to be useless or a hazard"
Your suspicions were confirmed, they only have rumors to base these accusations on. Of course no one focuses on how hard Tokoyami is working on his control in dark situations, just the basics of his quirk. They don't know that Dark Shadow is an extension of Tokoyami, meaning they share the same goals and morals.
"I just think he's taking up a valuable slot in the hero courses."
You turned around to face them, the two of the students shamefully avoided eye contact with you and started finding something in their notes or outside in the window.
"If that's what you really think then you're taking up highly valuable slots as the student body of U.A. I suggest you keep your focus on today's lesson than your peers' progress in classes you're not even a part in." You shift back into your seat and try to catch-up yourself to the notes on the whiteboard.
You check up on Tokoyami, he had to have caught on to what was happening right behind the two of you. His eyes were seemingly glued on the subject matter, occasionally darting back down to his notes.
You saw a faint shadow lay something on the corner of your desk.
A humble piece of paper that simply said
"Thank You, Y/n".
Denki
"It's a powerful quirk sure, but it's pointless if you can short circuit, besides he's not exactly smart to begin with."
The class discussion of quirks somehow landed on Kaminari. You could kind of understand how, given the lesson for today was about quirks and their relation to the human body.
"Hah! Maybe that's why he's dumb, he fried his brain cells!" A handful of students laughed at the joke.
Denki wasn't laughing though. His usually cheery disposition replaced with a silent one. Sure he's the class clown but that doesn't excuse blantent bullying.
"Hey, Kaminari? Do you want to swing by that one sandwich place we were talking about before?" You tried to lighten the mood and get his mind off of the pack of jerks.
"Yeah that actually sounds nice," he managed to muster up a half smile as he started gathering up his things.
"Careful Y/n! He might get too excited and electrocute you!" The laughter now becoming harder to ignore.
Denki sighs, "You know what Y/n, I think I'm just going to head back to my dorm."
Of course they would weaponize the one thing he's scared of.
You marched over to the group, making a B line for the ring leader.
"Those are some big jokes for people who are so insecure about their own futures they feel the need to tear down the greatest of our class. Really, what is wrong with all of you? If we're going to attack people for what they can't control how about we focus on your shortcomings" you jam a finger into the ring leaders chest.
"You can't even manage to pass a test without getting answers from your circus monkeys, even then you barely pass each one. Meaning collectively all of you are bottom tier students. Honestly, I'm not even sure how you're still in U.A at this point. Oh I know! I should tell our teacher about your collective cheating! That's what heroes do right?! I'm sure there's a bunch of people who could've gotten into this school but you thieves snatched that opportunity away from them. I'm sure they'll be excited to see you get transfered to another school."
You gather up your things before grabbing Denki's arm, his face in pure shock of what he just witnessed.
"C'mon Kaminari, we have to stop by the principal's office first, then we can get those sandwiches."
On your way out Denki comes to, he clicks his tongue and points finger guns at the bullies, "See ya losers! We're getting sammies!!"
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