#Story-Heroisms

[clown-friend-gt]

Weighted Blanket

Edit: Changed the title of this post to make it fit in more with other bits of this story that I've posted

This is a story I've been working on for a while, but isn't substantial enough for me to want to post it yet. What I have right now is a half-finished lore doc and some scenes I've written with some of the main characters.

Both of the characters in this are students in a superhero training program. They're roommates in the co-ed housing that the program provides. Addie has the ability to fly, but has the tendency to lose control of her powers while she sleeps. Trevor's "ability" is that he is constantly growing, albeit at a slow rate.

This story takes place a ways into their time in the program, where they've already become friends. This is the beginning of what turns into a romantic relationship between the two.

************************************************************************

Addie woke up with her face pressing against the ceiling again. She groggily placed her hands on either side of her face and tried to push herself away, only to slowly drift back upwards. Before her face could become compressed again, she gained the awareness to stop flying. She let that familiar feeling of weightlessness leave her and fell the short distance back to her mattress with a sigh.

She’d been there more than a year and she was still waking up like this. Granted, it was happening less often as she got a better handle on her powers. Still, she would occasionally have nights like these where she’d start floating in her sleep and it wouldn’t stop until the morning. She could either take her chances with the fitful sleep she’d get like this or find something to occupy her time until the morning. Or…

She opened the door to the fence that surrounded her bunk. It was supposed to keep her from floating over the side of the bed, but with no ladder down, it almost looked like some kind of cage. Of course, she had no real need for a ladder anyway. She began to hover ever so slightly as she hung over the side of the bed to look at the bunk below hers.

Sprawled across the largest mattress she’d ever seen was her roommate, Trevor. At around 25 feet tall, he was even bigger than when they’d first met. It was hard to believe someone his size could still be growing. Then again, this place existed because of people like them, people who were beyond belief.

He looked so peaceful like this. His face, often creased with worry when he was awake, looked so relaxed now. She felt a little bad about waking him up. But she figured he was her only hope of getting a decent night’s sleep now.

“Hey. Trevor,” She whispered, with no response.

“Psst. Trevor. Trev. Trevor!” He scrunched his brow a little as she raised her volume slightly but stayed asleep.

“Trevor~” she sang out. He continued to stir.

“Trevor. C’mon, I need your help.” Eventually, as she continued to prod, he started to wake up.

“Huh? What is it,” he murmured, his eyes still closed.

“I need you to hold me,” she stated simply.

“What?” That woke him up. He opened his eyes to look at her critically as she cringed slightly at her own phrasing.

“I mean I need you to hold me down so I don’t fly off in my sleep.”

“Oh.” He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Why?”

“I keep mushing my face against the ceiling and it wakes me up.” She pressed her hands against her cheeks to mime it for him. He chuckled at that.

Trevor took a sec to take in the sight before him. Somehow, Addie was hanging off of the side of her bed. As they talked, she began to dip lower and lower. It took him a little longer than he’d care to admit that she wasn’t clinging to the bed with her feet like a bat but hovering in place upside-down.

“How are you doing that without all of your blood rushing to your head? That can’t be comfortable.”

“Um,” she giggled, kicking her feet above her playfully. “It’s not.”

“Uh huh.” He laid back down and stretched his arms upwards, as if to grasp at her bed. “How were you expecting this to work? I don’t think I can sleep like this.”

Addie pushed herself away from the bunk beds. “Well,” she said, executing a few awkward mid-air acrobatics to try and right herself, “Obviously I have to get closer.”

“Closer?” He scootched over in his bunk, as if to make room. “I guess I could–”

“Not like that.” She made swimming motions to make her way over to him. It wasn’t strictly necessary, but she was having fun, damnit.

She positioned herself above him, flipped herself so she’d be on her back, and let herself drop, landing on his chest.

“O-oh.” Trevor said, feeling himself begin to blush. “I mean, if you’re comfortable like that?”

“Mm-hm,” she answered. “Now–hand.”

“What”

“Put your hand over me, like a blanket.”

“Okay.” He breathed out. Hesitantly, he placed his hand as gently as possible over her midsection.

“Yeah.” He felt her nod against him. “I think that’ll work.”

They sat like that for a bit. Trevor stared at the empty bunk above him, his free hand laying rigidly at his side. He had picked her up before, before he knew she could fly, but this was different. It felt almost…intimate. He hoped she wasn’t uncomfortable.

He wondered if his hand was too heavy. At least he couldn’t cover her whole body with his hand. He already felt out of place and unnatural around other people; that might freak him out a little too much. Still, this silence felt a little too awkward for him.

He cleared his throat. “So, is this better than being mushed against the ceiling?”

“Mm-hm,” she murmured sleepily.

“My hand isn’t crushing you, right?” He could feel her chuckling at that.

“No. It’s a comfortable weight, not a crushing weight.” She tilted her head up to try and look at him. She noticed him tense soon after she laid against his chest, but she didn’t know if he was uncomfortable, or nervous, or both.

“Is this okay for you?” She asked him.

“No it’s fine. It’s actually kind of nice.” He added that last part quietly, hoping she didn’t catch it. But with her laying up against him, she could both hear and feel everything he said, the vibration of his voice gently rumbling against her back. In the dark, Addie’s own face began to heat up.

Addie felt him slowly begin to relax after that. His chest raised and lowered slowly with his breathing. She felt like a small ship being rocked by the gentle waves of the ocean. His body was warm, but not uncomfortably so. Gently pinned between his hand and his chest, she fell asleep pretty quickly like that.

Meanwhile, Trevor was blown away by the surreal experience. There was an entire person lying on top of him, and yet here he was, cradling her like a stuffed animal. He could feel the tiny puffs of air as she breathed in and out. He smiled softly, his eyes beginning to drift closed again.

For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like a monster. He never could’ve imagined getting to hold another person like this before. She was so small to him, and yet she trusted him to be this gentle with her.

Addie was something else. From day one, she had trusted him to be this careful, even when he didn’t trust himself. She helped him realize that his strength was not just a burden. How could he ever thank her enough for that?

He was startled out of his thoughts when he felt the weight on his chest begin to lift. He looked down, but Addie laid in place. This must be what it felt like when she began to float in her sleep. Shyly, he laid his other hand across her, to keep her secure. Then, he let his eyes shut fully and drifted off into a comfortable sleep.

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Let me know what you think! I have a couple more scenes from this story written out if people want to see those as well.

[headlesssamurai]

//hacksaw_ridge/ //dir_mel_gibson/2016/

[thisisallthehattersfault]

Characters haunting their own narrative. A protagonist we don’t actually meet until four or five episodes in but who we hear of from damn near every mouth in the series. Their allies look out at the horizon and grit their teeth at their own troubles and reassure themselves like a prayer that they are coming, they’re coming, they’ll be here soon just hold out a little longer—

Their enemies look out at the destruction they have wrought and hold meetings to discuss the loss of men and territory and resources to this one person

People gather in bars and taverns and town halls and fountains to discuss the stranger who saved their lives or destroyed their businesses or liberated their people

We finally meet them when they arrive to help their friends, and the plot proper kicks off with everyone all together, we get to meet them and learn of them and see their personality, and eventually maybe we forget that they were introduced not as a person at all but as a ghost, a myth, a formless thing lurking around the edges of everything

(Sometimes they look so lost, fingers pressing to their pulse like they need the reminder their heart is beating. They confess to their closest friend that sometimes I’m not sure I’m real and their friend says sometimes I’m not sure either)

And in the end that character vanishes again, maybe dead or maybe something else, but they end the series the way they began: spoken of with a mix of love and terror, the ripples of their existence felt everywhere but they themselves nowhere to be seen, their ideals carried onward without them

Once someone they saved told them “you’re a hero! We’ll remember this forever!” And they smiled a small, sad, exhausted little smile and said it would be kinder to forget me.

[hanzajesthanza]

love that regis was resentful of cahir for being nilfgaardian at first. he didn’t even know anything about what he did to ciri or that geralt even hated him, he was just old enough and wise enough to disrespect the empire and military. “i can excuse drinking human blood but i draw the line at acts of imperialist aggression.”

i like this because a lot of interpretations of regis’ character (… blood and wine dlc 🥴) set him apart from society as an external judge of human folly and foolishness. like hmmmm… you mourtæls…. 🧐🍷 so dividèd by youer prejudicês…

and don’t get me wrong, regis is indeed the “let’s all kumbaya” type, but something as simple and subtle as his little snide remark about cahir’s surname and almost undetectable accent when he meets him betrays his absolute integration with northern society and strong ties to life in dillingen, and his inner prejudices resulting from that, which are absolutely. say it with me. human

[whereserpentswalk]

How many times did you die chosen one? How many people have you saved who saw you torn apart by the monsters your body was built to vanquish? When you wake up on that table, new parts being sown onto you where your old parts were torn off, a new soul put into your body when your old soul has been torn to ash, do you remember? They make sure all your memories are safe, there's no reason why you shouldn't? Do you remember what it's like to die? What it's like to feel your body be torn apart? To see strength that has crushed demons become nothing? To see your beautiful body, a body statues were built of, defiled, played with by things human eyes should never see? Do you remember being put back together?

When this quest is over and you request your final form, will you request something that's stronger, something that dies less? Or will you be weaker? Do you want to need protecting when this is over? Do you want to be able to fight at all?

[marimeeko]

If there is just one main romantic thread in BNHA, I put forth that it is in fact, Katsuki Bakugou falling in love with Izuku Midoriya.

[windblume-violet]

Do... do I go with the username for the running gag of "worst kept secret" or do I say fuck it and say magister Merlin for giggles to see his reaction

[lemongrass77777-moved]

I will never be over the fact that Lily Potter was the one who defeated Voldemort in 1981 and she was never given proper credit for it in canon. We barely even know anything about her and she was the one who defeated the snake faced bitch the first time around. It drives me insane. Lily deserved so much better than what the books ever gave her.

[troythecatfish]

[2dami2furious]

I get that people dislike the fandom characterization of miles g as some aggressive thug (I despise it) but sometimes I think people over-correct by saying that they are the EXACT same person. I’m sorry but no, not only does that not back up what kemp powers said about miles g being a bit “rougher around the edges” than our miles, It’s also really boring from a narrative standpoint.

What’s the point of creating the a version of your MC that came from radically different circumstances if nothing about them changes? It’s a nature vs nurture thing. Miles g is supposed to make you and Miles ask if his role as Spider-Man was destined, or if it was just some fluke that stopped him from turning out like his uncle.

[gofancyninjaworld]

just peopling

I don't think Murata knows what he does for me when he draws characters showing their more unguarded, vulnerable moments. And I don't mean when they're undergoing a profound emotional experience. Just the mundane, everyday activities.

It's not easy to depict mundanity in a story: real estate is precious, and Everything Has To Mean Something. So Murata finding space both within and around the chapters to ground the characters as people despite their abilities is precious.

Something that comes to mind is Scott McCloud's comment in his excellent book 'Understanding Comics', where he notes that depicting a superhero going to the bathroom is funny as we don't see these characters as human and it breaks our immersion. In One-Punch Man, the characters may be incredible and in a fantastic setting, but ONE and Murata have pulled off their also being so human there's nothing remarkable about them eating, sleeping, going to the bathroom, or having a recycling schedule on the wall. It's not easy to do.

ONE does get mileage out of making superhumans doing ordinary things hilarious, but he does it by making the context funny. Sure, Sonic on the shitter is funny, but it's not funny because he's an impossible ninja having a shit as if he were human. We accept his humanity. It's why he's crapping his guts out that's hilarious: there's both the schadenfreude of seeing him hoisted by his own petard and the relief that because he's screwed up, he will stay human. Sure, Genos using his arm cannon to dry the dishes is funny, but not because he's a combat cyborg that probably costs the same as a fighter jet. He and Saitama ate. Of course the dishes need doing. It's that he's abusing a million-dollar piece of equipment to do something ordinary that's hilarious -- like an engineer abusing a high-powered laser to heat coffee [1].

Often, the context isn't funny for the sake of being funny. Genos cleaning the house? Not funny. Genos ignoring the sounds of battle outside because he can't bring himself to leave the house until he's cleaned up all traces of the previous night's party? Hilarious. However, it's not just funny: it's the setup for us seeing later the pots and bowls set out as the apartment is destroyed, all ready to start dinner as soon as Saitama comes back. He's prepared for a meal that neither will ever eat. We carry out our routines as if life will never change, even though we're aware it can be cut short at any time and in ways we cannot anticipate, and no amount of power or privilege changes that. In the meantime, we live.

Why do they go so far as to humanize the characters? Other than it being nice to see, it also allows the story to land points that otherwise couldn't work. Points such as everything takes time, effort, and attention and no one can do everything, but must needs choose, and these choices have consequences. That we need others to be human. That even the best relationships take work. That fulfilling yourself as a human being is a work in progress. That the idea of there being a 'thing' or 'state' that will make one happy is nonsense. That we can go too far. That we don't deserve second chances, but no one's counting.

Being human is complicated and frustrating and boring but oh so worth it. That's a big point that ONE wants to get across. And he can't do that if the very idea of a character needing the bathroom is hilarious.

[1] Obligatory health warning: do not fuck with lasers. A laser capable of warming your coffee in a useful time is both invisible and more likely to set you on fire than give you a warm beverage.

[clown-friend-gt]

Cuddle Buddies

(~900 words)

I've been struggling to find the motivation to write the next chapter of "Up, Up, and Away," so I've just been writing little scenes like this with no regard for their order in the story. This one is relatively free of spoilers (if you don't count info I've revealed in other shorts like this) so I decided to release it to tide people over until the next update.

This takes place a couple of weeks after Weighted Blanket. That short story was pretty much the first bit of writing I did with these characters, and they've developed a lot since then, so that version of events is no longer strictly canon. I've done a rewrite of it that will appear later on in UUaA, but since it contains references to actual spoilers, I won't be releasing it out of order. That being said, the arrangement Trevor and Addie come to, where she sleeps on his chest and he rests his hands on top of her to keep her from drifting off in her sleep is still canon. They don't sleep that way every night, but it's becoming a more frequent occurrence by the time this story starts.

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The first thing Addie noticed when she woke up was that her view of the room had changed. Before she fell asleep the night previously, her view had been of the underside of her bunk from atop of Trevor’s chest. But apparently, he’d rolled onto his side at some point, because she now faced her desk, which sat across the room from his bunk.

She didn’t appear to be in any danger of falling, though. Because at some point last night, he’d gone from merely resting one of his huge hands on top of her to wrapping her up in one of his oversized arms. He was hugging her to his chest like she was some kind of stuffed animal.

It was a bit of a strange position to be in, but not necessarily uncomfortable. His arm was like a big, warm blanket wrapped around her. He held her securely, but not so tightly that she couldn’t move.

Addie had to wonder if he’d done this on purpose. It was a bold move to be sure, and not one she would’ve expected from him. But if not, did that mean he’d done it in his sleep?

She laughed softly to herself. The Trevor she knew was usually aloof and standoffish, and could be a little intimidating at times. She never would’ve guessed that he was secretly a cuddler.

It wasn’t quite light outside yet, but she could tell from the soft gray darkness of her surroundings that it was almost time for her alarm to go off. Despite that fact, she chose to shut her eyes and settle back in. If she only had a few more minute before she had to get up, she could at least spend that time in the comfort of Trevor’s arms.

Those precious few minutes passed far too quickly for her liking. Predictably enough, her alarm started to go off just as she was beginning to fall asleep again. She groaned to herself and cracked one eye open, checking to see if her alarm had woken Trevor.

Judging by the unbroken rhythm of his slow, even breathing, he didn’t seem to be awake yet. Maybe if she was quick about it, she could escape his grasp and shut off her alarm before he it woke him up too. Addie got to work wiggling herself free from beneath his arm.

No sooner than she had started though, Trevor began to stir in his sleep. He let out an indignant huff and hugged her closer to him. If she hadn’t been trapped before, she certainly was now. His grip was like iron, inescapable. She had just enough room to breathe.

Apparently satisfied now that she wasn’t going anywhere, he let out a contented sigh and seemed to settle back into his slumber. But her alarm continued to go off. Soon he was moving around again, as if trying to get comfortable. She went rigid, silently pleading that he wouldn’t try to roll onto his stomach. Then she’d really be stuck, or worse.

Eventually, he seemed to rouse from his sleep. He grumbled incoherently as he rolled onto his back, though Addie thought she heard her name among his mumblings. His hold on her relaxed slightly, but something kept her from trying to free herself again.

As Addie’s alarm continued to blare, Trevor propped himself up with his right arm. In his half-awake state, it took him a few seconds for him to realize that he was holding onto something in his left. In the meantime, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his free hand.

Then the realization hit him, and he looked down to see what it was. When he saw that it was Addie that he was clinging to like a teddy bear, his eyes flew all the way open.

She stared up at him sweetly, as if nothing was wrong. “Hi.”

He gaped at her. His mouth open and shut a few times, but no words came out. He could feel heat travelling up from his neck to engulf his face.

“Did…did I really…?” he babbled stupidly as her alarm rang in the background.

Instead of answering, she gestured towards her desk with her head. “Would you mind letting me go? I need to turn that off.”

“Right. Right. Of course,” he released her immediately, then cringed as she slid down into his lap. He snatched her up again and set her on the edge of the bed, apologizing all the while.

He watched as she slid off to the ground, just long enough to make sure she landed on her feet. Then he flopped back down onto the bed and buried his face in his hands.

There’s no way, Trevor thought to himself, face burning with embarrassment. There’s absolutely no way.

Addie’s voice stopped him before his thoughts inevitably spiraled.

“Shame my alarm went off when it did,” she said, just loudly enough for him to hear.

He peeked out from between his fingers, though he couldn’t bring himself to look at her yet.

“What?” he asked, befuddled.

“I would’ve liked to stay like that a little while longer,” Addie informed him, lingering in the doorway to the bathroom.

She saw him jolt up, a look of surprise on his face. She merely smiled coyly and shut the door behind her, leaving him without an explanation. He was smart enough to figure it out on his own.

[pikahlua]

Sigh.

I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna say it again.

1. I warn you against taking the story beats in MHA at face value. Just because something looks one way doesn’t mean Horikoshi won’t make it go a different direction later. He only puts like one or two major story beats per chapter. Don’t be fooled by them.

2. Just because Hawks lost his quirk doesn’t mean he’s done. If you think this, you’re guilty of the exact thing the moral of MHA warns you against: equating a person’s worth to their quirk. Why’re some of y’all agreeing with AFO on this? We literally got a flashback to chapter 1 where this perspective was explicitly debunked!

3. Heroes are heroes BECAUSE they make sacrifices for others. I guarantee that by the end of this, many characters will suffer permanent consequences not as a result of being heroes but because definitionally making these sacrifices is what makes them heroes in the first place. And yet I predict a significant, noisy portion of this “fandom” is gonna cry about how someone losing their quirk or becoming disabled or dying ruins everything because some of these characters can no longer be “pro heroes”--as if the story hasn’t been telling us all along that “pro heroes” aren’t necessarily real heroes. Anybody can be a hero, regardless of their quirk. That isn’t referring to PRO heroes but TRUE heroes. Some of y’all need to listen to Stain more closely.

[shigarakins]

excerpts from interviews horikoshi has given in 2018.

[X] [X]

these aren't the only interviews where he has talked about this, but i don't want to dig up every single instance of him adressing the idea of "everyone has their own unique definition of what a hero/heroism is"' because he was basically just saying the same thing over and over again over the course of the past few years. i think he even brought it up in one of his more recent interviews, but even if he hadn't, i see no reason to believe that he changed his mind at some point after 2018.

i mostly just think it's interesting in how it relates to tomura and tomura's character arc. basically, if your goal is to explore all the different shapes and forms a "hero" can take, you'd naturally ask yourself the question: "can a villain be a hero? and what would that look like?" where tomura is the answer to both of these questions. his brand of heroism is defined by wanting to be a hero for the villains (as a villain) and by destroying for their sake in order to create a future where they can live how they see fit. but that ultimately means that he couldn't ever stop being a villain or abandon his goal of destruction in the literal and most extreme definition of the word since that would have changed his idea of heroism too much in order to turn it into something more "acceptable", when the whole idea seems to be that even tomura's brand of heroism is valid, and that even a villain who is and wants to be a hero for other villains can and has the right to exist. any attempt at "redeeming" tomura or getting him to re-join society on the heroes' terms or re-define what it means to "destroy" or perhaps even abandon that goal entirely would have sort of defeated the point because it would have been akin to "converting" him, and basically forcing him back into a box (essentially saying that, in order to be a hero, he can only have "this type of existence").

but since this is bnha (where, when neither of two parties wants to give up, someone has to die, even a teenage girl's slate cannot, ever, "be wiped clean," nothing can change the fact that people "still became murderers" who cannot be forgiven, etc.), and jail just isn't that dramatic/emotionally moving/exciting of a conclusion, if he was never supposed to stop being a villain, if, in fact, him being a villain (in spite of afo, not because of him) was the entire point of his character, and fighting to "destroy until the bitter end" was the culimination of his character arc, then there was never any other outcome for him but death.

[gingermintpepper]

Reading reviews of the Argonautica on Goodreads was so funny because wdym y'all are mad at the Argonauts for -checks notes- being afraid of scary things and -reads further- missing their home??

Being a sailor is already objectively one of the worst things you can be considering how indifferent, hostile and inhospitable the ocean is to human life but then you add the fact that almost NONE of the Argonauts were career seamen anyway (some, like Atalanta, may have never even seen the sea before) and that a lot of them were kings or princes, noblemen who generally didn't do a lot of hard labour in the day to day and like, of course they're going to be miserable confined to a ship day in, day out, in uncharted waters with none of the luxuries or pastimes they've grown accustomed to??

I know people generally regard Book 3 as where things "get good" because that's where Medea is introduced but Book 3's catharsis only works because it's the result of months and months of endless open water, brief scraps of reprieve and trials to GET to Colchis in the first place. Sorry the story called "the Voyage of the Argo" isn't an action filled campaign where all the super badass children of the gods fuck women and kill monsters ig???

[transformers0]

Newsflash to writers out there.

Just because your female hero has a temper and can insult and smash any opposition against her DOES NOT make her a true, strong female character.

Just a reminder: Might does not automatically make right.

To close off with a quote from Peter Cullen (in his humble honesty, who is quoting his late older brother Larry, a Vietnam War Veteran), "If you're gonna be a hero. Be a real hero. Don't be a Hollywood Hero type, with all the BS, and all the yelling and screaming and trying to be tough. Be strong enough to be gentle."

(And you know what? This isn't just applicable to female heroes, but also for male heroes as well.)