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cube-cumb3r · 3 years ago

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The Means Reflect On The Ends Actually, (c!Dream & the conditioning of Exile)

What was the point of exile, storywise? What does it say about c!Dream? Sure, it’s showcasing how far he’s willing to go to achieve his own ends, but I don't think all discussion about what exile tells us about c!Dream should start and end there.

Dream is not cruel for cruelty’s sake. Dream’s end goal is not to hurt as many people as possible. He views his cruelty are “necessary evils”, and he doesn’t dwell much on whether the things he does are “good” or “bad”. He’s fully aware he’s hurting people and he ultimately thinks that hurting people, to the extent that he does, is worth it. That being said, while Dream has an ends justify the means mindset, but the truth is, the means absolutely reflect on the ends. His true intentions aren’t a mystery, it’s very clear in the text that his ultimate goal is unity, but why does he want unity? And what would said unity entail?

(Before this essay starts I have to do an ad break to promo @daggryet's very helpful [transcriptions from the exile streams], which I'll be using a lot of. Thanks for the very helpful resource.)

TW: Relatively extensive discussion abt the abuse in exile arc & the effects of said abuse.

Firstly, I don't think you should deny his relationship to control. A through-line of his character is achieving harmony through control, and more specifically, obedience. There’s a reason why he tends to single out Tommy the most. It’s not actually because Tommy is remarkably more troublesome than anyone else on the server, but rather, because his disruptive nature is at Dream’s expense. Tommy is the only character who’s consistently over and over again refused to respect Dream’s authority, and though he isn’t particularly threatening on his own, it’s the sentiment itself that’s dangerous. Similarly, this is why he has consistently targeted L’manburg, moreso than any other faction on the server such as, say, Badlands, El Rapids. It’s almost as if they represented the sentiment, “Hey, why are we listening to you anyway? Why can’t we be listening to anyone else?”, which is why he crushed them, over, and over again. What if everyone figures out they can just stop listening to him? What then?

We talk a lot about the effects exile had on Tommy, and rightfully so, but we don’t talk enough about what Dream was actually doing. What was the purpose of exile? Was it just a way to get closer to the discs? Just a means to an end? What was the end?

TOMMY: What, what could you possibly want more from me? You’ve tortured me.

DREAM: I’m just keeping an eye on you, Tommy.

TOMMY: What does that mean?!

DREAM: I’m just, I’m making sure that you’re not up to no good.

TOMMY: But, how, you’ve exiled me, you fucking stupid, manipulative fucking green bastard!

DREAM: I know! And you know why I did that?

TOMMY: Yes?

DREAM: No, you know why?

TOMMY: Why?

DREAM: Because you don’t listen to me ever, you’re the only person who doesn’t ever listen to me. If I tell you to do something, you’re like “no, fuck you!”, and you go and like do like the exact opposite.

[full transcription]

As much as I have to preface this with that this is speculative and we may not have any irrefutable confirmation, I think it's very likely that it's literally just what Dream is saying he's doing. Tommy is the one person who refuses to listen to him, and he wants him to listen. Exile was not only conditioning Tommy to believe that nobody other than Dream cares about him, not only conditioning Tommy to be entirely reliant on him, but also conditioning Tommy to listen to him, without question, without disobeying. And that is such a significant and reoccurring motif for it to arguably just be the intended reading of exile.

Abuse is a vague term that encompasses a lot of abusive practices. There are a good handful that apply to exile, I'm sure if you ask someone qualified they'll be able to provide you a nice handy list, but ultimately, all of them target Tommy's own sense of agency and autonomy, and it all revolves around power and control. Dream creates rituals purely to disarm him, threatens him and punishes him when he doesn't listen, and rewards him when he complies (or rather, conditions Tommy into thinking that not being punished is a reward).

TOMMY: [begins throwing his armor and axe down for DREAM to explode.]

DREAM: No, no, it’s fine.

TOMMY: Re-really?

DREAM: Yeah. Today’s the party, right?

---

TOMMY: So when can I- no, I wanna go back. I… hey, thanks for letting me keep my armour today.

DREAM: You’re welcome.

TOMMY: Kinda nice of you.

[full transcription]

Dream isn’t only hurting Tommy for the sake of hurting him. People tend to frame it as if Dream Just Hates Tommy, but that’s not true. He finds Tommy fun, in a twisted way. There are a lot of moments in exile where they’re both on very good terms and Dream is friendly with Tommy. But, it's also all part of horror of exile, making Tommy reliant on him and his company, getting him to doubt his sense of reality, making him question whether his friends back in L’manburg ever cared about him at all, and possibly questioning whether he’s imagining the abuse as well, Dream is so kind to him after all, why would he ever want to hurt him?

Over the course of exile Tommy agency and sense of self start to deteriorate as well as his mental health, he starts worrying about what Dream would think, starts asking Dream for permission, going out of his way to avoid upsetting him, his only friend, his only reliable caring companion.

TOMMY: Yeah, so I’m thinking we- and then I can- but the thing is; so recently my buddy, Dream, has been doing this thing where he, uhm… it makes sense, though, because I’m not in his land anymore, but he takes my shit from me, so I need to make sure- […]

---

RANBOO: Yeah, so what do you say- does Dream like take your armor? Is that what you said?

TOMMY: I don’t know, he just- hey man, I just follow the boss.

[full transcription]

TOMMY: “Visit Techno” no, no, what would Dream think? […]

---

TOMMY: I’ve had a little idea, by the way, and I wanna know what you think, and also if I’m allowed

DREAM: Okay?

[full transcription]

TOMMY: Yeah, I know he’s actually - he’s sort of my- he’s borderline my owner, Big Q, so I’m not really sure.

MEXICAN DREAM: He’s your dad?

TOMMY: No, no-

MEXICAN DREAM: Ey! Ey, Papa Thomas!

TOMMY: No, no, we’re- as in labor.

MEXICAN DREAM: You gotta teach your child some manners.

[full transcription]

Dream’s outburst in exile after finding Tommy’s chests, is arguably one of Dream's most emotionally honest (and reckless) moments in exile considering it was what made Tommy realize he needed to save himself and escape. And it's punishing Tommy for going behind his back and planning to revolt.

TOMMY: I’m really, no, I’m really sorry, though. Why don’t we just pretend this never- yeah, let’s, shall we just pretend this-?

DREAM: Sorry doesn’t cut it, Tommy. Listen, I’ll leave you here to think about what you did-

TOMMY: What about the nether? What about the nether, my friends, what-?

DREAM: No! You can’t go to the nether, no one can come here, you are alone, okay? As soon as I think that you have changed, have become somebody who isn’t going to hide and lie and try and revolt; then people can visit you again. You can go to the nether again. But for now - no, no one can. You- I was being very lenient. Yesterday I let you go into the Dream SMP on a temporary pass, and then what do I find out the next day?

TOMMY: I’m so sorry.

DREAM: I have been nothing but gracious to you. Tommy. Think about what you did.

---

Exile wasn’t only a means to getting closer to the discs or getting Tommy out of the way. Exile was a means to conditioning Tommy into listening and respecting Dream as his superior. Dreams solution to Tommy being disruptive and troublesome was to [physically beat], emotionally abuse, and psychologically condition him into obedience. Only seeing exile as a testament to how far how willing he was go to meet his ends is reductive, and not acknowledging what Dream considers to be a “problem” and what he considers to be “solutions” is to not engage with his worldview. You have to take exile into account and what it actually says about his ideals of harmony and unity.

---

TOMMY: I can’t go back… I can’t go back, and see my friends and see Tubbo. This is a shithole! He wasn’t- he wasn’t here ‘cause he was my friend. He was here to- what did he say on the first day? Got a little bug that he can’t flig off? I’m the only person who never does exactly what he says?

TOMMY: I’m the only person who never does what he says. Me! He said that to me, didn’t he?

TOMMY: He was here to watch me.

[full transcription]

Dream’s relationship to Tommy can (and honestly should) be compared to his relationship to the entire server at large. Not to imply that He Literally Wants To Abuse The Server, but rather the he views the server revolting as a problem, and the solution? Well. The [prison]. The hall of attachments. It’s no surprise that the disc war, a conflict that was initially only primarily between Dream and Tommy*, is suddenly about everyone. Bargaining and blackmailing using attachments, something Dream initially only subjected Tommy to, to keep him under his control, is now a means to control everyone.

Is Dream's goal of unity for the sake of the overall happiness and quality of life of the people living within said unity? I don’t doubt that this at some point in time was true. But, the fact that he’s willing to ruin lives and long-term psychologically destroy people over it, means that his goal isn’t unity for the sake of the people living in his ideal version of the server, but at their expense. Him believing he needs to control people to maintain unity and harmony means that he believes himself to know what's best for people moreso than the people themselves, and therefore he's the only one responsible enough to make decisions for them. And it also means that his motives has warped and twisted overtime, it’s likely that he’s become so fixated on the goal of unity itself that he’s lost track of why he wanted it in the first place.

Anyway. Stop buying into Dream's own self-justification of "ends justify the means" and put his deeply flawed and broken worldview and view of people under a little bit of goddam scrutiny.

#*yeah no its about tubbo and sapnap too but thats not really who dream has ever focused on #dream smp #dreamwastaken #tommyinnit #exile arc #tw abuse #ask to tag #lor3 essays

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mettywiththenotes · 3 years ago

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Expanding On Inko’s Segment From The “Izuku’s Emotional Neglect” post!!

I recently did a post about Izuku’s Emotional Neglect and it had a segment on Inko’s influence on him and like I wanted to add this part in but 1) I couldn’t find anywhere to put it that would still make the post flow well and 2) it would have made the post too long

Here is the original post [x], I recommend you read it before reading this!

The part I wanted to talk about was the All Might Visit scene in chapter 96, specifically this part

“If only my child had stayed quirkless (...) wouldn’t Izuku have been happier that way...?”

I know we talk about The Todoroki Family’s disconnect, but can we also talk about the Midoriya Family’s disconnect?

The way it is, Izuku sees his quirklessness as bad because of how it’s been treated in the past by his childhood peers/friends, his teachers, his mother and All Might. It’s always been implied to be bad and wrong, to be worse than having a “lame” quirk.

But Inko doesn’t know this. She doesn’t know how Izuku sees his quirklessness. To her, the extent of her idea must be “it was bad because he wanted to be a hero but you need a quirk to be a hero”, but that’s not the issue here

Izuku doesn’t want to be useless therefore -> quirkless.

Inko wonders if staying quirkless [therefore -> useless] would have been good for him.

My point is Inko doesn’t know how bad her son’s self worth is. She doesn’t know the gravity of her words in this moment.

As said in the original post, Inko’s language always implies his quirklessness as something deeply upsetting and bad. While she didn’t mean to imply it, to Izuku, her apology would have felt like a betrayal to how she acted before [she acted so upbeat and happy when Izuku would go on about becoming a hero, but when he asks her for the last time if he can become a hero, she cries and instead apologises. That would have felt like a big betrayal to Izuku]

The deeper problem here is that Inko and Izuku don’t communicate.

Izuku never told her how his quirklessness or her words made him feel, plus we don’t even know if he ever told her about Bakugou’s bullying or even the bullying in general! It seems like Inko hasn’t the foggiest idea of Izuku’s problems.

And in this scene, as you can see with the flashbacks, Inko seems to see his quirklessness as a lost opportunity for peace. She would be absolutely content with playing pretend as long as Izuku doesn’t run off into danger “like what she witnessed on tv”

[oh Inko... you’ve got a big storm coming]

And this isn’t to say Inko is wrong to think this. It’s not wrong of her to want her son to be safe. But the fact of the matter is that she doesn’t know how deeply her words effect Izuku, because this is the second time she has said something upsetting about his quirklessness. Not purposefully, but it still must hit Izuku deep.

So then we look at Izuku’s reaction to this

To her, she views it as a necessary evil. That she hates making her son upset and dragging him away from a place he loves, but she feels she has to do it in order for him to be safe.

To Izuku, this is the end of his dream, that panicked realization just before you wake up to reality. He eventually accepts that he can go to other schools, but I think this initial reaction is interesting.

“All my efforts reduced to zero! (...) I have to go back to UA, no matter what!”

Once again, I feel like it could be that familiar feeling of betrayal. That she’s taking away that dream of his.

Actually, that apology seems the same. She tells him “I’m sorry”, almost like a parallel to before.

To add more to the disconnect, let me also very briefly mention this

Because here, Izuku is promising things he can’t keep. This is more or less a “fake it till you make it” thing where Izuku PROMISES to work on getting stronger so he won’t worry his mother anymore but uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh [war arc flashbacks and vigilante arc visions]

This is a disconnect with himself, because he’s still being reckless and not thinking about his own safety, but at the same time it’s a disconnect with his mother for not upholding his promise, with not thinking about how this behavior effects his loved ones

Izuku’s self hatred and self worth issues outweigh the feeling of not wanting his loved ones to be worried. It’s that constant need to prove himself worthy, not just to those he admires but to himself. Like saying “See, I am worth something. All those voices in my head telling me I needed to wake up and see reality were wrong, because I am worthy now.”

Unfortunately, even though Izuku IS stronger AND better than he was, he still sees himself as useless. This isn’t something a Hero Destiny can fix, this is a deep rooted issue that has been happening since childhood.

Anyway idk man, things turned out okay [kinda] but I think this scene speaks volumes to how Inko interacts with her son, the effect she had on him and how he views his quirkless, and how the two literally just don’t communicate effectively with each other

This isn’t to say Inko is a bad mother. She’s certainly trying her best and we can’t fault her for that. I’m afraid this is just one of those things where everything could be fixed if two characters just sat down and talked to each other [which ya know. can’t do that cause it would shut down the ~tension~ of the story]

Inko sees his quirklessness as sad, but also a lost opportunity to have a quiet life.

Izuku sees his quirklessness as something bad, the worst part of himself. When he’s reminded of it, he remembers how “useless” and “pathetic” he was, and tries to separate the quirkless version of himself from the “stronger” version, because he’d rather not remember that. In fact, it seems like he doesn’t want to remember it, or ruminate on it for long, because he can’t face how horrible it was. He simply wants to focus on the now, the better version of himself, because the past seems to be too hard to face.

It IS hard to face, especially with the amount of self hatred he has. As he is now, he can’t look at the past as someone who knows it shouldn’t have happened, he can only look at it as someone who still blames himself for being born quirkless.

#anyway that that was that #i would have totally added this into the og post but i kept trying to slot it in and i was like #no... no this is wrong this is all WRONG #so here is the seperate post #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #izuku midoriya #inko midoriya #class 1a #i am once again asking the characters of bnha to communicate with each other #rambling #ramblings #mettys posts #metty posts

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piranahaha · 3 years ago

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Alone Together, Part Two

PAIRING: Fives x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: War and Associated Bad Things

Author’s Note: Here’s part two of my reader insert. There is a part three which will be linked once it’s posted. Comments and criticism are welcomed with open arms. As always, the title and lyrics at the beginning are from Fall Out Boy- Alone Together.

Part 1 Part 3

I don’t know where I’m going But I don’t think I’m coming home

No one believed Fives when he told them about Mini. Not even Echo hid his eye roll when he told them about meeting her in the underworld bar on Coruscant. Jesse had snorted, and Kix made a comment that he needed to pick a better name for his hand than Mini.

But Fives shrugged it off, letting his brothers have their fun at his expense. He just hoped that he heard from her soon, not wanting to lose that connection.

It took a week before he got his first message from you. It was just a quick note that pinged into his inbox late one night while the cruiser was traveling in hyperspace to their next posting.

I’m alive. Hope you are too. Haven’t had time to send anything until now. Things are kriffed as hell on this deployment so far. Fingers crossed it gets better. I’m getting so sick of killing mud creatures that keep popping up and getting into the supplies. -Mini

The arc was thrilled to hear from you, saving the message to reread again and again. He sent one back that night.

I’m alive too. Not much going on for us right now. Currently sitting in my bunk while the cruiser is in hyperspace. Obviously I can’t tell you anything about where we’re going, but it doesn’t sound like too terrible of a mission. Are you allowed to say anything about where you are right now and what you’re doing? Oh, my brothers don’t think you’re real. Any ideas on ways I can prove them wrong? - Fives

Fives pressed send, then laid down on his back in the bunk, one arm tucked behind his head. From above him, Echo snickered.

“Messaging your pretend girl, Fives?” He asked, poking his head over the edge.

Fives rolled his eyes, ready to deliver a smart comeback when his comm chimed again. It was another message from you. He opened it, seeing it was a short video file.

Hope this helps, it read. He pulled the file up and clicked play.

The recording was shaky, clearly being done while you were walking. You didn’t show your face, having chosen to record the muddy ground and your boots.

“Hey Fives,” your voice said. “And hey Fives’s brothers. Yes I’m real.”

From in front of your boots, a small brown creature erupted from the ground, scuttling towards your feet. You broke out into a series of curses, stomping down on it. Its exoskeleton crunched under your heel.

“I am so karking sick of these things and the mud all over this planet,” you grumbled, wiping the creature’s guts off the sole of your boot in the thick mud. “But anyway, I’m real.”

The video ended there. Fives looked up at his brother, smirking.

“Told you she was real.”

Echo’s face was comical, his mouth hanging open in surprise. “I guess we stand corrected.”

You'd sent a few messages back and forth with Fives over the past couple of weeks. His replies never failed to make you smile a little bit amid the muck and grime on Meban. There wasn't much to smile about otherwise. You hadn't been lying when you told him in your first message that things were karked up beyond belief. You were in charge of a CRC unit that was desperately trying to provide support to civilian casualties all while the Separatists were continuing to wreak havoc just a couple dozen kilometers away.

Things were deteriorating by the day. There were too many in need of help, too few supplies to go around. You were sitting in your tent, stripped down to your undershirt in an effort to feel just a bit cleaner. In your hand was a datapad showing the recent movements of the droids in relation to your position. It was starting to look like they were scoping the area, and you had a terrible feeling that they were going to violate the Refugee Assistance Accord any day now.

You sighed, switching to the details of remaining supplies. It wasn't much. Daily rations for the unit for another week if everyone dropped to two meals a day and even less for the hungry mouths that showed up daily. You'd already cut your own rations down to the bare minimum and it was showing. At least your stomach had stopped hurting so much the longer you went without food.

You also weren't sleeping much at all, but that was to be expected in a situation like this. Gods, what you would give for a five minute water shower.

Your comm beeped with an incoming message from Fives. You set the datapad aside, pulling it up.

We just finished a campaign. Can you holo-call? My brothers are bugging me to see your face.

You chuckle a bit, typing out a quick reply.

Sure. Fair warning, I look like banthashit at the moment. Call whenever as long as it's in the next half hour.

You run your fingers through your hair, untangling some of the knots there. It's greasy and lank, your scalp itchy from all the muck caked onto it. Giving up on being actually presentable, you tie it back in a knot and leave it at that. You don't bother putting your uniform shirt back on, choosing to stay in your short sleeved undershirt instead. You still had your cargo pants and boots on, so you figured that was dressed enough.

Your comm pings with the holo-call request from Fives. You tap it, answering. In front of you is the blue flickering image of Fives. He's grinning, but he's not alone. Around him are four or five identical faces. Well, identical but different at the same time.

"Hey Mini!" Fives chirps as soon as your message connects. He seems to study you for a moment, a wrinkle forming between his eyes. "You do look like shit."

You chuckle. "I know I do Fives. It's been a long few weeks."

"Damn, Mini you are real!" A clone with a large tattoo covering his face chimes in, a lopsided grin on his face.

"Jesse!" Fives scolds, elbowing his brother. "By the way, this is Jesse. Beside him is Kix, then on my other side is Echo and the blond is Rex. He's the captain."

"Damn," you say. "Got the whole family with you."

"Yeah well, they're all curious about you."

You shake your head at the trooper's antics. It's nice to take a break from the reality of where you are for a bit.

"So what are you doing anyway? Like what's your objective wherever it is you are?" Echo ask, a curious look on his face. "Fives says he doesn't know where you are."

You hesitate for a moment, considering how much to share. Finally you decide on a mostly truth and omitting what you can't share.

"That's because I can't tell him since it's technically Separatist occupied." You hold up a hand at the shocked looks. "We're covered by the Refugee Assistance Accord here so technically they can't attack us or interfere with operations."

But I'm pretty sure they're going to anyway, you add in your head grimly.

"As far as what I'm doing," you continue "I'm running the unit deployed here. Trying to provide medical assistance and necessary supplies to the people here while they're being occupied."

"Kriff," the captain curses.

"That sounds like an impossible mission," Kix adds.

"Pretty much feels like one," you tell him. "We're running out of everything and the CRC isn't sure if they're going to be able to send any more to us before we're completely out."

Under your bunk, the ground rumbles ominously. Something is wrong, you feel it in your gut.

Fives starts to speak, but you cut him off with a hand. "Hold on."

You listen, and then you hear it. The distant sound of an explosion.

"Kriff all!" You scramble for your gear, leaving the transmission up.

"Mini!" Fives calls. "What's going on?"

"They're violating the accords," you snap, throwing things as you grab your go bag. "I fucking knew they were going to soon."

Outside the tent, the alarm begins wailing. It's the evacuation tone, the sound sending chills down your spine. You bolt from the tent, bag over your shoulder. Around you, the rest of your unit is stumbling out. Bomb blasts shake the ground, and by their light you can faintly make out the forms of droids advancing.

"On me," you call, bringing your unit together.

You don't realize that your comm is still on, now only audio until you hear Fives screaming at you for coordinates so they can send help.

"I’ll be in touch when we’re safe." You click the comm off.

"Everyone accounted for?" You ask, checking to make sure the fifteen members under your command are there.

"Good, now let's get the hells out of here."

You start out at a dead run, heading from the camp and the advancing droids into the darkness beyond.

#arc trooper fives #fives x reader #fives x you #clone trooper fives #star wars: the clone wars #fanfic #reader insert

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itsclydebitches · 3 years ago

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I'm sorry, but as someone who can't stand how Yang acted for 80% of Atlas, saying "her feeling like she had to help raise Ruby is demeaning and unempathetic to Tai" is a HORRIBLE take. If Yang held it against Tai that'd be one thing, but she doesn't, least not as far as we've seen.

And "she decided he's an unfit parent"? That's literally just headcanon. Where is this stated or supported in any way? Literally everything, from the show to the comics to the manga, shows she absolutely values her father and his guidance. Her providing similar guidance to Ruby at some point doesn't change that, she's stated to be Ruby's mother figure, a woman in her life she could seek advice on in regards to things as well.

Like anon I get you're frustrated by how empathy and morality are handled in this show, I am too, but this just ain't it.

I have simillar feelings on the Weiss scene too but that's another story, you already kind of covered it.

Agreed, though I don't want to rag on the other anon. As said, I can very easily see how someone would come to that conclusion, especially given how often we discuss parts of the show without actually re-watching those scenes, leading to iffy interpretations down the line. A fandom pretty heavily focused on a "Tai is a bad dad" reading + Yang's unfair criticisms of others from Volumes 5-8 (notably her most recent characterization. The one fresh in everyone's mind) = an easy opportunity to mistakenly slam the two together. It happens. That's why I try, whenever possible, to re-watch moments, or at the very least re-read transcripts. I'm well aware of how easy it is to get sucked into how the fandom discusses scenes and take that interpretation at face value, when in fact what's canonical has gotten pretty warped across, in this case, six years of content and discussions.

But let's talk about Weiss a bit more! I think it's worth re-emphasizing that, yes, I'm well aware that she was the victim of that dinner party. My own criticism lies less in that specific moment and more the conceptualizing of our heroes as a whole, which leads to some missed opportunities in that moment, some quite important. For example, most classically heroic characters would be horrified at nearly hurting/killing someone, regardless of whether that was intentional or not. That's a crucial part of what makes them heroic: cherishing life and shouldering responsibility for others' safety, even when it's clear from the audience's more objective perspective that they weren't at fault. There's a happy middle ground here between acknowledging Weiss' horrific panic attack and acknowledging Weiss' responsibility moving forward to ensure that her trauma doesn't endanger others—given that her trauma is drawing on literal, combat techniques—highlighting her desire to do right by the people of Remnant, even when they're snobbish, rich assholes. Any reading that boils things down simply to "Weiss is the only victim in this situation and besides, why do we care if a racist Atlesian bites the dust 😒?" is a small representation of the much larger writing problems of Volumes 7 and 8: acting like Mantle is full of only good victims, Atlas only evil perpetrators, and a defense of the latter isn't worth anyone's time—certainly not the heroes who never, ever make mistakes with massive consequences. Weiss' near attack also carries with it the beginnings of a lot of themes that RWBY never capitalized on, but pretended were an important part of the story by the end of that Atlas arc, like Ironwood's supposed propaganda, or Whitley's question of whether power should be solely in the hands of a few, individual huntsmen. Weiss' situation might have been reframed into something that looks intentional: Here's not just a girl, but a Schnee girl, attacking a poor, defenseless civilian with her scary powers. Are we really going to leave the safety of our kingdom—the world—in the hands of people like her? You should be backing the army, people who have your real interests in mind, led by the man who saved that woman's life—General Ironwood! And the audience would rightly be going, Hey now wait a fucking minute. That's not what happened! It was an accident born of trauma and abuse. How can you manipulate the people into thinking otherwise? Into thinking Weiss is the enemy here? Like, if you're going to write Ironwood/Atlas as the awful, propaganda spewing antagonists... actually write that story.

So the party scene could have been the launching point for a lot of important work, both in terms of Weiss' characterization (a hero learning to balance flaws with her people's safety; taking responsibility for her mistakes, no matter the initial intention) and the world building (what does it mean for a Schnee to (mistakenly) attack a civilian when tensions are this high and faith in huntsmen is beginning to fail?) But for the purposes of what we actually got, that lack of reflection on Weiss' part, as said, reads badly when pit against her actions in Volumes 6-8. Because my brain is super focused on Star Wars atm, I think Anakin is a decent comparison to all this. Meaning, we know where he ends up—super scary Sith Lord who is going to do All The Bad Things Ever—and that will, naturally, color our reading of everything that happens in prequal material. When Anakin gets pissed and cuts the limbs off a Separatist, it produces a "Yikes" reaction in the audience because we know that anger, grief, frustration, and fear are going to lead him down an awful path. In contrast, when Obi-Wan is challenged about his no killing unarmed men policy and cheekily looks to Rex to kill him instead, we don't really go "Yikes" because we know Obi-Wan remains true to the Light for his entire run. All their actions have the primary reading of "They were justified that time/they made a mistake/they're allowed to be human/etc." But only Anakin has the secondary reading of, "That action is REALLY BAD—more bad than Obi-Wan's—because we know where it leads. It reads as setup for his inevitable fall." That's basically where the RWBY group is at the moment, provided you're unhappy with their lack of empathy in the later volumes. If the group had remained more compassionate then yeah, we'd continue to shrug off past moments that sorta imply otherwise because we know that's not who they really are. Weiss never grappled with nearly hurting someone only because, hell, RWBY doesn't let her grapple with anything! She didn't even get to respond to getting speared through the gut. But knowing where they end up—knowing that Weiss will be party to Ozpin's treatment, will help betray Ironwood, will accuse Marrow of abandoning her city only to do nothing for it in turn, will threaten her brother, will give the wish to destroy her entire kingdom and displace all its people, etc.—creates that "Yikes" response whenever we see something earlier that even somewhat aligns with her current characterization. It doesn't erase the 100% correct reading that Weiss was the victim and made a totally unintentional mistake in that moment. It doesn't erase the knowledge that RWBY rarely capitalizes on the implications of scenes like this anyway. It only adds another reading in the form of, "Well, knowing where she ends up... I can kinda see that future version in her here too."

#rwby #mymetas

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zeta-in-de-walls · 4 years ago

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Hey guys, I was having thoughts on the meta-side of the Dream SMP. Okay, so we know that Technoblade has done much of the scripting for this present arc, Tommy, Dream and Quackity have also done some in collaboration, presumably doing each of their own characters and motivations, and Tubbo and Fundy have also been involved too. Uh, this will be rambly as it’s a lot of unsorted observations.

Obviously these are my thoughts, and ideas purely based on my observations as a viewer but you can definitely tell that they’re all very aware of the fanbase and are likely very influenced by them. I could see this even in the Pogtopia arc where Tommy started reusing phrases before when debating ethics with Wilbur, eg ‘let’s lose as winners, not win as losers.’ or something along those lines and how Techno made a callback to his only universal language is violence speech in his wither monologue.

But wow, the scripting is definitely becoming a lot more obvious in this new season of the SMP. Not a bad thing at all, by the way, it’s just a difference. Clearly they’ve gotten more detailed plans and are more ambitious with what they convey in minecraft, with more players taking inspiration from Wilbur after how well he executed it. It’s also the difference in how the various people write, I’m sure.

Tommy and Tubbo have streamed the SMP for the longest and have very gradually evolved into the roleplaying and their respective approaches to it are very interesting. Tubbo’s streams are typically chill and usually involve him working on some sort of project - he’s very chaotic when with other people but is usually very reactionary when it comes to the roleplaying - doing most of his best stuff when bouncing off Tommy, or occasionally Quackity. On his own he doesn’t like to lead bits but is among the best at making other people’s bits work. Same with the RP! His character’s in a weird spot right now as the other writer’s seem to be writing him in quite an unflattering way and he doesn’t do solo, emotional performances all that much meaning he’s less sympathetic right now then he really should be. Like, Tommy garnered loads of sympathy during his exile as he gave a very expressive performance where Tubbo’s character also presumably feels very isolated and alone and he’s being manipulated by the people around him but he gives a lot less. This has made it easier for the audience to start siding more with Technoblade, the literal mass-murderer, over the traumatised kid who was manipulated into exiling his best friend and continues to face terrible choices with no good options.

While I can of course make less meta theories on why Tubbo should be appreciated more and what it says he’s got no real support and is compartmentalising his problems, in the end it’s how his streams work. Tubbo does plot related streams, and he does streams where he simply vibes - and even in the serious streams, he can joke around and cheerfully lampshade the goofiness by doing things like joking about wanting a good review from Techno while kidnapping him - that stuff is priceless and does not fit into the melodramtic scripts but it adds so much to the SMP and why it is so much fun to watch. Tubbo’s really good at making content better! He’s not afraid to look ridiculous, he will also unapologetically avoid engaging in too much melodrama himself when he doesn’t feel like it. I consider his character highly underrated in the plot right now.

Tommy knows what he’s doing. Even before the roleplaying really took off, Tommy liked to play a character and lead bits and the SMP shifting in a more scripted direction suited him exceptionally well. Tommy focuses heavily on streams with lots of content, only rarely doing more chill stuff - especially more recently. He has always approached streams with a plan - but usually their extremely loose and he has said that he’d sometimes just come up with an idea 10 minutes before the stream and improvise from there. Tommy’s good at improvising and seems to work best with a very loose plan. Where I think Techno likely came up with the plan for Tommy to get exiled from L’Manburg and then join forces with him, Tommy likely filled in how to play his character and - wow.

Tommy’s writing seems to be incredibly simple - each exile stream had no major plot points or anything and the plans that are there don’t even make logical sense (let’s throw a party in one day and let’s invite everyone but have Dream not send out the invitations so no one shows up - and I’m going to do this even with Philza and Fundy literally in the call.) but Tommy pulled every one of them off very well and proved to be compelling enough that no one cared at all whether the plot made sense nor did Tommy make much effort to justify that sort of thing - ‘cause he knows how the SMP works and how much the audience will go along with it. And instead, Tommy focused entirely on his characterisation and spent all his time exploring it. That’s how Tommy works - very simple plans, then improv in character into an engaging bit. He’s managed to pull off the most ridiculous things like that, and has confidence that the other streamers will support it - that’s how he’s prepared to try insane things like pretending to be Clarencio the llama. And, like Tubbo, he’s always willing to throw for content.

Then there’s Technoblade. He’s streamed the SMP a lot less - though he’s done so much more recently - but he’s spent a lot more time playing on the SMP, doing tons of grinding. He here for the RP but is also committed to playing the game itself very optimally. He seems to have a much larger view, taking in the bigger picture, of the story where Tommy has a very personal view. His approach to content is all about the fanservice.

He’s always trying to create big epic, moments, that both look and sound awesome. Like the butcher’s army plotline which let him both seem like an underdog, a victim against a mean group, and also an incredible badass figure who outplayed them all and came out as victorious. The butcher’s army were really given an antagonists role there, and were really made to seem unlikeable. Then he met up with fan-favourite Tommy and suggested a team-up with him. (This is also leading to the ultimate fanservice that is the Sleepybois team-up.) Techno’s got a very, dry self-aware sens of humour too and he’ll often make simple meta observations about the SMP - like noting that the pacing’s fast or teasing in the chat in the middle of wars. He’s also made himself into a bit of a meme what with logging just to say his name and leave.

I don’t know how much it’s just Techno of course, but the plot really seems to be heading in a direction that suggesting that Technoblade was Right. L’Manburg’s seeming corrupt, and Tommy is being seen as Theseus. At the time Techno first made the Theseus speech, I felt like the comparison seemed unfair - but now it’s like the plot itself has bent over to make the comparison make sense, and Techno’s one of the writers of the script. Techno also of course, prepared a vault to show Tommy so he could say ‘welcome home Theseus dramatically - total fanservice as fans were indeed talking about how cool saying a line would be, and then he absolutely did. The way Techno calls his viewers chatting as the voices in his head is also fanservice. It’s not like actually true, as Techno ignores the chat if they tell him information his character doesn’t know and meanwhile all the streamers interact with their chat too - so all chats have always been a part of the story and calling them canon is absolutely meaningless. Not a bad thing though - it is nice and makes the fans happy and makes them feel included. I don’t know if this sounds critical by the way - it’s not meant as such at all - all the streamers love engaging with the fandom, and Techno’s approach to giving lots of fanservice by providing so many epic moments is great. I just wanted to highlight it.

And those were some meta thoughts on the SMP right now and its writing. I don’t really think I had a point or argument. I just wanting to make some observations and my impressions. If you’re curious I am course a Tommy fan first. I love how he’s evolved with the SMP most of all and I appreciate his character-driven storytelling. His main weakness is probably getting too into bits and going too far and it’s so nice that the SMP is a place where even his weaker ideas are supported rather than shut down. I like how he’s able to improv so well and simply how he streams. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I love Tubbo best when he’s with Tommy as they bring the best performances out of each other. I find Techno interesting as a contrast to both of them, as he approaches so many things in such a different way.

#dream smp #tommyinnit #tubbo #technoblade #meta #analysis #long post #i don't know what this was #i should just ask for asks #so i can ramble with more direction #like i have a lot of thoughts #but they're not all as coherent as i'd like

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talkcloneshipstome · 4 years ago

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I would like to request Rex/Fives, incorporating the word: forever ❤️

D... did I really never answer this ask? I wrote the prompt. It's been written for a while now. I am so sorry I forgot about this! I'm pretty sure Kanra even reminded me at some point, and then upon being reminded, I forgot to come and post this. Either way, I hope you like this. It's geared more towards Rex/Fives/Echo — which was done on accident — but Echo isn't actually present. This takes place post-Citadel. Due to that, the fic is under the cut for talk of death and character death.

Rex sits alone in the barracks. He hasn’t got a clue how he’s managed it, but he seems to have found a random sweet spot of time in which the entire bunk room is totally empty. It’s just Rex, the bunks, and his thoughts.

Thanks to General Kenobi, Cody, and the 212th’s ARCs joining the 501st for a few rotations for strategy planning and other similar responsibilities, Rex has been relegated once again to the barracks, along with Fives. They’re the only ARCs at the moment, so the ARC bunk room has been given over to their guests. Not that Rex is complaining though. He likes staying in the barracks usually. It feels less lonely…

The pressing quiet of his and Fives’ bunk room has been driving him insane. They were never an overly rowdy bunch in their free time, so the quiet isn’t out of the ordinary. But there’s something horribly oppressive about silence brought on by a missing presence who should, by all accounts, be there. But he’s not.

It’s been… oh, Rex isn’t sure anymore. He lost count of the days by the third after returning from the Citadel. It’s been over a week, he’s at least sure of that much. But other than that, time has been blurring into itself of getting very little (if any) sleep, rising with his alarm, and forcing himself to go through the motions. He is aware that his men are getting concerned, but it’s not like there’s much to worry about. Something will snap him out of this eventually, Rex is sure of it. It always does.

Though, they’ve also never lost Echo before. They’ve lost vode, of course. That’s just life for the clones. They’ve been losing brothers since before they could even remember. It’s different now that the war is officially going. Now that it’s been a year and a half or however long, losing brothers is different than it had been on Kamino.

And truthfully, Rex would be a filthy liar if he said that losing Echo wasn’t the punch in the gut that it is.

He tries not to think about it too hard. Tries to ignore the weight bearing down on him from all angles, and how sometimes he wants to cry so hard he can’t breathe. Rex doesn’t deserve to feel this way. He shouldn’t get to think of Echo and feel pain wash through him, so debilitating that he once actually stumbled and fell to his knees with a silent, grief-stricken sob.

Luckily, Fives had not been around.

After all, Rex is the one who said no. He’s the one who turned them down. Them. His chosen shinies, his ARC troopers. His Echo and Fives. They held out their hearts to him, full of love and hope for the future. They asked him for forever, and Rex told them no.

He wanted to agree so badly. It hadn’t been a new concept, of course. Brothers marry all the time. It’s not unheard of. Beyond that, the three of them had actually talked about it before. Rex had shared his concerns — his fears, his dreams, his realism. For all that he knew there was nothing wrong with it, Rex was scared of marriage. He still is. How can he promise someone forever when he can’t even be sure he’ll make it to see the morning?

It didn’t matter that they are his troopers. It didn’t matter that it’s more likely for all of them to die together than to die separately. Rex couldn’t promise them what they wanted. He refused to break their hearts like that.

Of course, he broke them a little bit by doing this anyway. They had looked at him with hope and love so true and deep in their eyes, and Rex had crushed it.

No, Rex does not deserve to miss Echo. He doesn’t deserve to feel like he’s bursting at the seams and falling apart. Fives is the one who deserves to be feeling this way. And he does. Rex knows Fives is barely keeping a lid on this thing. One misstep, and the whole tower of cards will come crashing down. Rex needs to be there for him when it finally does. Even if Fives hates him, Rex will be there.

That’s the thing that’s killing him though.

Fives does not hate Rex. Hell, he’s not even mad at him. Even as Rex watched his troopers’ hearts shatter before his eyes, they still smiled at him — sad though the expressions were — and said it was okay. They told him they understood. Because that’s how they are. Understanding. Caring. Loving.

Rex couldn’t have asked for better partners even if he wanted it.

The swish of the door opening and closing again pulls Rex out of his thoughts. There are tears on his cheeks, dripping down his chin.

Fives stands in front of Rex. His eyes are dull and watery with his own unshed tears. There’s a slackness to his features that tells Rex all he needs to know about how well Fives has been sleeping recently. Not.

Rex startles a little, not having realized someone was coming toward him.

“Fives—”

Fives holds up a hand and shakes his head silently. Rex shuts up immediately. He may be the captain, and Fives one of his ARC troopers, but Rex still knows when to take orders. The answer is “now” and “definitely from Fives”.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” Fives eventually says. It’s not what Rex was expecting to hear.

“Not well.”

The ARC nods. “Me either.”

There’s a pause after that in which neither of them speak. They just watch each other for a moment. A million things to say flash across Rex’s mind. In the end, he says none of them. It’s Fives who has to break their silence again.

“You and I both know he wouldn’t want us living like this,” he says finally. “This isn’t living, cyare.”

No, it’s not. Rex knows that. He nods in agreement, because really, that’s about as much as he can get out right now.

Fives sits heavily onto the bunk side Rex with a deep sigh.

“I don’t know why you’ve been avoiding me, Rex, but this has got to stop.”

“I’m not—”

“You are. I won’t pretend to know what going through that head of yours. Only you can say. So the only way I’ll know is if you actually tell me.”

Rex stares down at his lap, playing with his fingers and twisting them together painfully.

When he thinks he’s finally found his words, Rex swallows.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I shouldn’t have… I wish I hadn’t said no.”

Fives shakes his head again, cutting off whatever was going to follow that thought up.

“He knew you love us, Rex,” Fives tells him. He leans into Rex’s side, pulling him into a side hug with an arm hooked over the blond’s shoulders. “No marriage or lack thereof would change that. We love you, and you love us. You have your reasons for denying our proposal, so—”

“Had,” Rex corrects him. “I had my reasons, which I’ve realized now were really just making me feel worse. I just want to use whatever time I have at least trying to find some semblance of happiness.”

Fives doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t argue, either. He doesn’t pull away from Rex and leave him alone.

“I’m not asking you to marry me,” Rex cuts in again quickly. “That’s not— I wouldn’t—”

“Shh…” Damp lips press against his temple in a kiss. Fives tugs Rex even closer, until he’s practically in the ARC’s lap, hiding in his neck. “Shh, it’s alright. We can talk later, after we both take a nap. Got it?”

Rex nods, finally and suddenly realizing he doesn’t mind that he’s crying in Fives’ presence and noticing just how exhausted every part of him is. Fives maneuvers them until they’re laying down together. The new position is much more comfortable for the both of them. Rex finds himself sinking into the warmth of Fives’ embrace and the safety and comfort that he offers.

“Forever,” he mumbles. “You feel like forever.”

Fives smiles tearily against him.

“You do, too.”

Rex falls asleep to the feeling of a phantom hand he isn’t sure exists brushing over his hair. Warm air tickles across his ear like perhaps someone had whispered something into it.

“Forever, cyare’se. I’ll come back to you.”

#the clone wars #clonecest #clone shipping #fives/rex #fives/rex/echo #arc trooper fives #captain rex #angst #death #references to character death #spite prompts #jude writes

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tgagossip · 3 years ago

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I’ve been quiet for a week and my doctor said this morning that my blood pressure has tripled, so I’m here to tell you that I don’t need any of you to send in anons to speak my mind on what I see; I will happily disturb the peace of my own free will. Buckle into your diapers, adult babies, my obviously professional and therefore completely true assessment is as follows:

We’ll start with the Smythes, they think they own the whole campus anyway, might as well jump on the bandwagon, right? We’ve got the pack leader in McKinley, sulking in the shadows. How many people want to bet on him plotting something? That one is the Energizer Dom, he just keeps going, and going, and going, and going... His twins are usually followers, but they seem to be full of chaotic energy when it comes to what direction they’re moving in and it’s kind of funny to see the sheep scatter. The one thing that hasn’t changed is the incesty vibes. Talk about preserving the bloodline. Though Liam Sterling has been seen heading to Beau Smythe’s dorm at McKinley late, late at night and Keith Mathews has been seen with Remy Smythe. Sebastian gets along with few people, but those that he does, he’s probably trying to fuck.

Speaking of incest, the McCarthy twins are back. That’s the whole announcement.

Which leads me to the juicy tidbits from the Abrams and Eliot-Abrams clan- and I do mean tidbits; Zoe is probably plotting her next apocalypse and Malakai hasn’t been seen or heard from in days and the only thing he said to his step brother, Ambrose, was “fuck off” and honestly, I can get behind that kind of attitude. Trust me, the holidays are here and unlike the imposter, The Grinch, my heart shrank three sizes this day, as it should. And, well, the only Submissive here from that family is always quiet and unassuming when his brother is here too. It’s an interesting dynamic.

Did anyone else see Elliott Anderson getting into fights with all three Smythes, rabid Chihuahua style? That not boy’s grudge skills are top tier, I’ll give him that. He’s right though, it is pretty weird that Remy thinks he owns the art studio, it’s a public space and Elliott has logged just as many hours in there as Smythe has. And if I’m honest, which we all know will give me hives, Anderson has done more for the art studio and the art club in his time there. He took the club captain spot and made sure people felt welcome there, it was sickening. Darrean Anderson is clearly jealous of all of the attention his not brother gets and has decided to moonlight as a crossdresser. If you’re out in the courtyard on a full moon, you might see him out there with blue garage door eyeshadow from lid to eyebrow and stripper heels that are almost big enough to make you look like a real boy, Pinocchio. Back to Elliott, he’s been spending time with David Karfosky recently, who has done nothing else worth noting.

Speaking of old money, I’m interest in the Hayward household. What does James’ sister think about him pretending to not be part of the family? You mad, sis?

Dorsey Rose was seen heading to Reginald Huggins’ dorm over at McKinley, to the surprise of nobody.

Eleanor Flanagan is back with a bang, and not the fun kind. It looks like this little firecracker is still throwing the stereotypes away and taking the position of Joan of The Traditional Submissive Arc. This is the girl that ties with Zoe for Most Likely To Have A Stab Count, in my book.

Genevieve Sterling comes in as a polar opposite, disrespecting everyone she talks to and not getting punished by a single one of the spineless fools she exposes. This isn’t new for her, though it seems she’s gotten better at picking targets that won’t strike back than last time.

After waging war with the Smythes, and then crafting a peace treaty with one of them as if that would hold any water with the other two with Beau being the natural born leader of the three, Gaston Lefevre seems to be pretty close to getting his claim back. He’ll just have to hope he gets to collar Lorelai Lefevre before any houses drop on their yellow brick road.

I’ve done some digging and Daithi Pearce is the secret son of infamous mob boss, 'Lucky' Luciano. Hold onto your panties, because it is also rumored that his last Submissive disappeared mysteriously. But how mysterious is a rug thrown in a river really?

Campbell Clarington is forming a harem, ladies and gentleman, so you’ll probably want to DM her immediately to apply for a position before the three dozen man crew is full.

Riley Puckerman doesn’t want you to know that she secretly broke her leg three days ago and has been walking on it like the Bionic Woman since, with no medical attention. She’s looking for suitors, so you probably want to get on that too.

And I definitely didn’t make any of this up because some of you are just too boring to have anything worth gossiping about, because you’re all boring. But if I did, nobody would ever believe you because some of this is the truth.

#glee rp #tga:gossip

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kaibutsushidousha · 4 years ago

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I normally don’t talk about other subjects here because outside of asks because I like to pretend to myself that this is still a Danganronpa blog, but this recent experience was so special that I’m feeling the need to open an exception to this. As you already seen if you’re following my Twitter, a couple days ago I finished Houshin Engi, and despite a few problems with its second half, it still became one of my favorite mangas of all time. So here’s a post explaining what is Houshin Engi, what’s the best way to read, what made me love it so much, and how big of an inspiration it was for the Fate/ series.

1 - Introduction to Houshin Engi and Ryuu Fujisaki

Houshin Engi is a manga written by Ryuu Fujisaki, running on Shounen Jump from 1996 to 2000. It’s a manga adaptation of the Chinese mythology classic “The Investiture of the Gods”, and it’s title is simply the Japanese title for The Investiture of the Gods, completely unaltered. Now you must be asking yourself “Wait, can really just put raw mythology on Shounen Jump?”. And the answer is, unsurprisingly, you can’t. In order to allow this manga to come to life, Fujisaki had to get very uh... to put it mildly, creative with his portrayal of the ancient legends.

As I came to learn, Ryuu Fujisaki has huge reputation for writing adaptations with unique charms and appeals not present in the original. I haven’t checked anything else he did yet, but that’s apparently is main MO and a thing he does even when he doesn’t need to.

Houshin Engi is very humorous, in a way that almost feel like a parody of the myths instead of a serious adaptation, but this humor transitions very seamlessly into seriousness and weight of the war myth this manga is telling. The self-aware jokes never make the characters feel any less human, and every character death is done with a lot of grace and gravitas. I won’t say every character is respected because a lot of them ended underused, but all the ones who did get to conclude their character arcs did on their own terms, with all the respect they could get from the narrative.

2 - What does it do well?

I know this is a cliché answer, but the best thing about Houshin Engi is it’s charming cast. The humor is also top notch and unintrusive, as mentioned above, but the cast is the one thing that made fall in love of Houshin Engi. There are a few characters I dislike, but they’re never the important ones. Every single character that got a major spotlight has managed to captivate me, and my list of favorites matches practically 1:1 with the main character list, which is something that never happened to me before. It got me super emotional with a last volume group shot, which really tells a lot about how much it made me care.

Nezha is my favorite Lancer in Fate/Grand Order, and wanting to learn his story was one of my main reasons to start reading this manga. It turned out I liked Fujisaki’s version of Nezha (Nataku) exactly as much as FGO’s Nezha (more on that the last part of the post), AND EVEN THEN, Nezha still turned out to be my least favorite member of the protagonist trio.

Incidentally, the rest of my ranking of the protagonist trio is Yang Jian (Youzen) in second, and Taigong Wang (Taikoubou) in first. As I already mentioned on Twitter, reading too much shounen leads you to develop a pretty solid understanding of what you want and you don’t out of a shounen protagonist, and unbelievably enough, Taigong here turned out to be my ideal protagonist. I could go in lenght here about how Taigong is a protagonist tailor made to my tastes, but one blessed anon sent this while I was starting to write, meaning Taigong is getting his own meta post later.

3 - Houshin Engi deserved so much better

Houshin Engi is now a 25 years old manga, and throughout its quarter decade of history, it’s been done dirty at every opportunity. For starters, there’s no English version done by a translator with any respect for the original Chinese myths, meaning all these Chinese characters in China keep being called by the Japanese reading of their names, which in most cases sounds nothing like their names. Hence why I had to put the Japanese names in parathensis on the section above.

The manga got its first anime adaptation in 1999. It was titled Senkaiden Houshin Engi, but was dubbed and released in English under the title “Soul Hunter”. As you can tell from the fact the manga ended in 2000, Senkaiden had an anime original ending that I haven’t watched myself yet, but have been told multiple times is not nearly as climatic as the actual end of the story.

Senkaiden also had a Brazilian dub, than I might watch someday, maybe, and it’s the only translation I found that preserves the characters’ Chinese names, but it’s overall considered the biggest reason behind Houshin Engi’s lack of popularity in Brazil, because it was dubbed by a cast of whatever Portuguese speakers they could find in California, rather than letting a Brazilian dub studio produce the dub in Brazil.

The manga was latter fantranslated to English in the worst quality imaginable. I’ll let this page speak for itself.

Then, in 2018, Houshin Engi got its second, and even worse anime adaptation. Titled Hakyuu Houshin Engi, this anime proposed to adapt all of the manga’s 23 volumes in 23 episodes. The result was as disastrous as you could imagine. Everything was rushed and heartless. Entire arcs (mostly my favorite ones) cut in favor of the larger arcs (mainly the one I don’t like). And the recency crushing the hopes of a decent adaptation anytime soon. It’s a huge shame, because I think Houshin Engi is built perfectly to work as 5 season anime if it got the same nice treatment Muhyo to Rouji is currently getting.

Last, and definitely least bad, the manga was localized by Viz and published from 2007 to 2011. The Viz version honestly doesn’t feel like a professional translation, and can easily make a lot of people quit on the first volume due to an overload of untranslated terminology, but it’s still the least bad way to read Houshin Engi. It was really tolerable for me, but I have to consider that I’m relatively familiar with Taoist concepts and could recognize what’s what by their Japanese names.

Anyways, even the concepts are confusing, please still give (the Viz version of) the manga a chance, since Tao mechanics are far from where the manga’s greatest strengths lie.

4 - Certified Kinoko Nasu recommended reading

I’m putting out this one last section about Type-Moon intertextuality because it was huge and unavoidable part of the experience for me, but feel free to close the tab the if you’re not a Fate/ fan. You won’t be missing anything else.

Let’s start with the obvious: Nezha’s presence. Nezha’s mats explain that Lancer Nezha is based on the more mature version of Nezha from Journey to the West, while Berserker is truer to his younger, more immature self from The Investiture of the Gods. Fujisaki-sensei’s Nezha (Nataku) looks nothing like the Type-Moon’s version, and of course, doesn’t have the whole gender situation, but his personality fits the description of “a less mature Lancer Nezha” to a T. They have the exact same robotic mannerisms, soft spot for children, and proneness to violence, with HE Nezha attacking without asking while FGO Nezha always asks "can I solve this situation with violence?".

Another big point you can notice quickly (or maybe already noticed from from the fantranslation image above) is Fujisaki’s version of Daji (Dakki). You know what’s the one big personality element that separates that Daji from FGO’s Koyanskaya? Me neither. Reading the whole manga, she never felt out of character for Koyanskaya for a single moment. You could say TM Daji is more accurate to HE Daji than to RL Daji.

I’m completely serious and unironic when I say this. Remember how Tamamo Cat’s Noble Phantasm is based after a torture game where she lets a tiger out to hunt humans? That’s actually a Houshin Engi-original twist to the Daji Feast. A version of Tamamo is unironically getting manga-exclusive Daji content for her Noble Phantasm, so you absolutely can’t convince me Houshin Engi is not canon to the Nasuverse (you actually, but only because of how Daji’s character arc ends).

Those two major characters aside, there’s really a lot central Type-Moon concepts that take clear inspiration from the Investiture of the Gods (not necessarily Fujisaki-sensei’s version). Noble Phantasms (宝具) are literally one little line away from the Paope used in Chinese myth (宝貝), and the Throne of Heroes being a force that removes historically significant people from the cycle of reincarnation to be used in a later battle is matches perfectly with how the Altar of Investiture (Houshindai) works. The last arc even throw some hints of how Type-Moon handles Gaia, of all things.

Houshin Engi is definitely good enough on its own, as I already made clear, but being a Fate/ fan really enriches the experience a lot. My recommendation doubles if you are.

#houshin engi #ryuu fujisaki #type moon

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rwbyvein · 3 years ago

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Firen Lhain: Chapter 808: Coffee: Part I / III

James Ironwood stood in the Atlas Council's chambres. It was a hollow-half-circle with room enough for 5 chairs. One was missing. One was empty. An image appeared on the screen.

"This is Cinder Fall, current Fall Maiden, and the mastermind of the attacks on both Beacon and Haven academies. She is quite literally the most dangerous criminal currently alive. And she wants permission to leave Atlas."

The three seated councillors all let out confused and offended utterances. The first to stand up was the head of the Chambre of Commerce, Bluebonnet Bellamy, "How can we even consider this?"

The next to stand up was the Chief Justice Hildegard Bont, Councillor for the Judicary. "I thought the borders had already been opened."

"Yes, well." Ironwood said to them, "Due to the treasonous actions of certain members of the military, the order to open the borders was not followed."

Next stood up Constance Bieber, Councillor of Atlas Civil works, "I was wondering about your bizarre declaration."

Hildegard continued, "Is this why you gave moved Lieutenant-General Hartman out of Central Command?"

"She is also the most qualified to man the First Roboticized Brigade Group." Ironwood replied. "She was on the shortlist for when it was going to be created."

"Two birds with one stone?" Constance asked.

"The Tin Man and his Tin Army." Bluebonnet stated, "Do we really believe any of this?"

"As the Councillor for the Chambre of Commerce?" Constance asked, "You have to have seen trade yet to normalize."

"These things take time." Bluebonnet tried to say.

"No, they don't." Hildegard stated. "The Kingdoms were dying to resume trade. The whole point of the Chambre of Commerce having a Chair at the Council was to recognize this. It is entirely unreasonable to expect trade to not skyrocket the moment the borders were open. Ergo it is reasonable to assume that there was illegal obstruction. It would, however, be more prudent to pursue these matters in the proper legal channels."

"The Lieutenant-General was fomenting rebellion." Ironwood stated, "By keeping the border closed, she was hoping to cause the people to mutiny."

"Unfortunately, this is almost entirely your fault." Constance stated.

"I KNOW!" Ironwood replied. "You don't think I know this?! This - is - entirely - my -fault!"

"And, did you want to tell us why we should give the world's most dangerous criminal permission to flee?" Hildegard asked.

Ironwood breathed in deep to regain his mettle. "She's too dangerous to contain. The only reason she's remained in custody this long is her own willingness."

"What changed?" Constance asked, and a picture of Cinder appeared on the screen.

"This is how she looked when she was apprehended." Ironwood stated, "Take a close look at her left hand and left eye, they've been replaced with Grimm parts. Also note a complete lack of resistance. Here's a picture of how she is at the moment." Constance and Hildegard gasped.

"She's been cured?" Constance asked.

"That's why she wanted to remain in custody." Ironwood stated.

"If you have this kind of medical science?!.." Constance asked, and Ironwood cut her off.

"This is Jaune Arc," Ironwood said as a picture of Jaune appeared pausing as he ate with chopsticks. "Recently given Letters-Patent from the Kingdom of Mistral as a Huntsman. His Semblance allows him to manipulate the Aura of... how did he put it, sympathetic souls? The brief summary in my report is that this requires the subject's Aura to be unlocked, and a certain level of trust. Not enough trust to let her stay with them afterwards." A picture of Cinder reappeared, "Now, while she was the mastermind, it was not her choice. At present she wants to remove herself from the conflict, and we don't have to tell you how important it is to have Her strongest piece taken away from Her. We're at war, and few people know about it. All we have to do is approve her travel outside of the kingdom."

"Where are they headed?" Constance asked.

"Vacuo." James said, and Constance raised her hand. Ironwood raised his, followed by Hildegard. Bluebonnet just sighed.

* * *

Taj looked into the back of the airship. "If we're going all the way to Vacuo, we're going to have to stop someplace to pick up food... and coffee."

"I do believe you are being paid appropriately." Cinder stated.

"I know a place on the way." Taj stated. "I hope the emerald dream back there is not a vegetarian, or this is going to be awkward."

"What makes you think I'm a vegetarian?" Emerald asked.

"I don't know." Taj replied, "You just kind of look like one. You never know nowadays."

"She will honestly eat anything she's given." Mercury said and found a flying kick slamming him into the side of the airship, causing it to rock back and forth.

"Easy!" Taj shouted.

"It's not like they hurt it." Cinder stated.

"They did knock it off balance." Taj stated, "Do you guys not know how dangerous that is?"

"Cinder is a pilot!" Emerald shouted.

"If you kids keep fighting, I'm just going to drop you somewhere." Taj stated.

"You'll be fired!" Emerald shouted.

"Don't care!" Taj shouted. "Other jobs, less babysitting." Mercury and Emerald stared at each other from across the airship. "That's better."

"Thank you." Cinder said with a smile.

"Uh, yeah, a pleasure?" Taj replied.

* * *

The airship set down next to what looked like a run down shack.

"Are we seriously going to eat here?" a dejected Emerald asked as she walked down the ramp.

"Aw?" Mercury asked her as he walked down behind her, "Are you suddenly too good to eat gutter food."

"I should slap you!" Taj angrily said to him. "Once you've tasted it, you'll take back those comments."

"And if I don't?" Mercury asked.

"And if I don't?" Taj sarcastically asked. "You know what? Fuck you. Both of you. You'll eat it, and you'll like it, and if you don't?.."

"What?!" Emerald harshly asked him.

"You're not just evil, but you have no taste buds!" Taj replied.

"Why the hell are you carrying a thermos?"

"Coffee, you pretentious twat." Taj stated.

"Did you just call me pretentious?!" Emerald asked.

"If you've never had to rely on coffee, then yes, you're pretentious."

"Do you know anything about me?" Emerald asked.

"No!" Taj replied, "Maybe you can tell me all about it once you agree on how good the food is here. Anyways, speaking of coffee, do you guys want any, or do you plan to sleep on the flight."

"You'd like that." Emerald asserted.

"It would be less dangerous, yes, but a lot more boring, and I wouldn't get to talk to interesting people like you."

"I'm interesting?" Emerald asked.

"We are like the world's most wanted criminals." Mercury said to her.

* * *

Taj came out of the shack with a small paper bag stacked on top of a larger paper bag.

* * *

Taj handed the the larger bag to Cinder. He then picked up his themos from the tray and walked up front. Cinder started to pull cardboard trays out of the bag and passed them out. Emerald looked at it scornfully while Mercury looked at is suspiciously. Cinder tried to act enthusiastic as she unwrapped it. It looked like it had a day's worth of artery clogging calories. She tried to pretend to be eager as she tucked into it, and the look on her face immediately changed to one of absolutle joy. Mercury was the next to take a large bite from the burger, and didn't stop at just one.

"You have got to be kidding me." Emerald said as she looked at it. She looked over to Mercury who was almost finished his.

"Oh?" Taj said from the cockpit, thermos in hand, "Don't forget the coffee."

Emerald pratically sneered at the coffee cup that shook a bit as the airship took off.

"Eat up, little missy." Taj stated, "We've got 12 hours until we hit Vacuo, then probably another 3 hours to get where you want to go."

"And if we have trouble?" Cinder asked.

"I'm expecting trouble." Taj stated, "I'm also expecting our little spring chicken to help us out if things get a bit too hairy."

"What did you call her?!" Emerald asked, nearly dropping her burger.

"It's a compliment." Mercury stated, holding the tiny portion of his burger that remained. This caused Emerald to scoff.

"Hurry up and tuck in." Taj said to her, "So we get to the part where you admit how right I was."

"Like I would ever..." Emerald tried to say, and then took a bite. She sat there in silence, trying her best not to look like she was enjoying her food. She eventually chewed and swallowed it. She tried her best to look neutral.

"Just admit you like it." Mercury said, as he finished the last of his burger, this caused Emerald to let out a scoff.

"There's a time for lying," Cinder said, "and a time for truth. You tell too many lies, and no one will believe you."

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Emerald nervously, teppidly voiced, "but this is maybe the best thing I've eaten." She then took another bite. She and Cinder enjoyed their food until she paused, "And if you want to know, I - WAS - a street rat. Eating anything seemed like a luxury. Cinder is the one who saved me from that."

"Which is why she fell in love with her." Mercury stated, "And she fell HARD."

Emerald gave him a piercing look as she finished chewing her bite. "Like you're one to talk."

"Like I'm one to, what?" Mercury asked.

Emerald picked up a napkin to wipe her face before putting the food down. "Who's the one who got us all the money?" she asked, and Mercury just looked at her. He quickly wiped his face, looked back at her and again just stared. "Oh, really?" Emerald asked, "You could have gone ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD, and been a millionaire, and what do you do?" Again, Mercury just stared at her. "Oh, are we just now figuring this out?" she asked, "Are you just figuring out that you could have done anything, but you decided to use all of the money you got in a DAY to try and find Cinder?"

"She's..." Mercury tried to say, "She's important..."

"No shit, Sherlock." Emerald stated. "You just now figuring this out?! I might be in love with Cinder, but I've known SINCE WE FIRST MET!" Emerald shouted. Gone was Mercury's lost look and in it's place a self-satisfied smirk. "Wait?.." she asked, and her head snapped over to Cinder.

Cinder's hand dropped to Emerald's knee, gently caressing it. It looked as if Emerald's heart hung by a thread. "I knew." Cinder simply said and then paused, "Before, it was just something that made you easy to control."

Emerald's heart looked like it had been broken, "Wait, before?.." She nervously, teppedily, fearfully, frightfully asked, but Cinder's hand stayed on her knee, gently caressing her.

"I honestly don't know what I want from you now?" Cinder asked, "But I honestly don't know what I want from myself. I know you're loyal. I know you're loving. I know you're beautiful." She then turned her head to look Emerald in the eyes who looked back as if her very soul depended upon the connection, "And I know I want you in my life."

"Told you, you were interesting." Taj said from the front seat, and Emerald snapped out of it, looking around in a panic. She looked over to see Mercury smirking at her before drinking his coffee.

"He wasn't lying about the coffee, either." Mercury said with surprise and joy.

#rwby #firen lhain #faunus au #pollinated knight

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op-peccatori · 4 years ago

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Upon This Sword | MLQC Gavin

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Knight!Gavin/Queen!Reader

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: You’ve fought to keep Gavin by your side for a long time. When the time comes to let him go, will you find it in you to let him do the right thing?

Word Count: 6621

Warnings/Tags: fantasy au, royalty au, minor language, mentions of death, congrats you are a queen!!!, extreme cheesiness because I’m a block of cheese for these guys

a/n: yes, this is the result of reading chapter 22. I strongly debated posting this on here but honestly, I had so much fun with it I’ll probably do parts for the other boys too (~˘▾˘)~ this is an unholy union of all the fantasy shows and webtoons I’ve ever consumed.

With the early morning sun just barely making its appearance, the sounds of heavy footsteps thudding against the ground of the courtyard drown out all other sounds in the castle.

“Keep your heads up, we’ve got a few more laps to go!”

You’re aware of the eyes boring into your back, knowing there are some trying their best to stay averted, ones still glinting nervously. It hasn’t been long since you started joining the soldiers in their drills instead of working privately, but it seems not all have gotten used to your presence.

You keep your gaze fixed on the one leading the group.

Amber eyes glance back at you for the briefest of moments, a sharp brow cocked your way questioningly. A guileless smile is your only response; you pretend you hadn’t just been studying the way his shoulders flex under the thin layers of his clothing. He continues to run, unfaltering, drenched with sweat; his hair, gathered up tightly, sways with hypnotically, its edges brushing the top of his spine.

You follow, not much better off yourself, with your sleeveless tunic and leather armour clinging to you like second skin but you can’t deny the spring of motivation welling up with the presence of the others around you.

By the time the sun is high in the sky and the stone keep castle is buzzing with life, you’ve switched to sparring.

The clash of steel has heads turning, and the figures clashing keep them turned. The others have paired up, walking away as fast as possible after receiving their instructions, eager to get away from the two of you circling each other like a pair of eager, sweaty hawks.

You see pursed lips twitch, so subtle if you were anybody else you would’ve missed it, and you’re just barely swift enough to dodge the jab to your side.

Gavin narrows his eyes at you.

“You really need to work on your tells,” you tell him seriously, before propelling yourself forward to strike him head-on. He blocks it with a grunt and a tiny roll of his eyes.

“Not if you’re the only one who catches them,” he mutters, shifting his weight and you slip away, your longsword sliding off his, an impish grin blooming along your mouth.

“It’s only a matter of time before others catch up. Or are you saying you just let your guard down around me?” Your smile is saccharine as you swing your weapon in a high arc; he meets you with a strained laugh, swords meeting with a loud ring.

“Around you? I’m no fool,” he says before you both stop horsing around and charge in with a flurry of attacks, striking hard and fast. You keep him in your line of sight, focused on every minute movement from him. From the slight bend in his knees to the glistening bead of sweat at the top edge of his upper lip, your senses deeply attuned to him.

29-30 is the current tally—in Gavin’s favour. It’s time to avenge your pride.

‘I’ve got this.’

“Your majesty!”

Your sword lands in the mud behind you, the tip of Gavin’s quickly pointed at your heaving chest. The both of you turn in stone-faced unison to see Minor standing behind the fence with his hands clamped over his lips.

“That doesn’t count,” you say at once and Gavin grins at you, not budging an inch.

“Shouldn't have gotten distracted. A loss is a loss. Say it.”

Looking like you’ve eaten the most disgusting fruit in Loveland and trying to school your face into something more dignified, you sigh with no small measure of frustration.

“I suppose. This victory is yours.” He backs off without another word, rolling his shoulders as he visibly basks in the glow of his unfair win.

And then you turn to glare at Minor, who winces at the ire in your face.

“I’m so sorry! It was Anna! I mean, she sent me to inform you that there’s a council meeting in an hour.”

You see Gavin pause in your peripheral vision; there are a number of reasons why the small council would need to call a meeting, but with the recent tensions with a neighbouring kingdom, Sethia, you wonder if there’s more bad news coming your way.

A grumble on your lips, you move to yank your sword out of the ground. “This is it for now.”

You watch, unamused, as Gavin inclines his head deeply. He slicks sweat-slicked bangs back, leaving you momentarily distracted by the sight of his forehead. He smiles that quiet little smile, the one that leaves you smiling back helplessly. “Your Majesty.”

“See you.”

You reach up to feel your own damp, and maybe a little muddy hair. An hour. That’s barely enough time to clean up well enough for Anna’s standards and get some food in.

“Minor, I’m going to need some help.” You could probably get some in if someone else wrestles your hair into compliance.

“On it, boss. I’ll have someone send up a plate once you’re done cleaning up.”

From your seat at the head of the table, fingers drumming on the wooden surface without missing a beat, you study each member of your council in grim silence. Not all of them are people appointed by you; some of them you wouldn’t trust with a treasured brick, even if they’ve sworn oaths to you. If it belongs to you, they’d find a way to use it. It makes you uncomfortable, but there’s not much you can do about them.

Sunlight pours in from the wide windows, bathing the room in a soft, bright glow. It would make you sleepy if not for the stress of what’s coming.

“We’ve received reports of increased activity by Sethian soldiers near the borders,” Anna informs you, jogging a stack of papers, face set evenly. She remains the picture of grace, the one guiding presence in your life after the passing of the previous ruler—your father.

You nod at Anna, leaning back in your ornate chair.

Some council members you would trust with your life—have trusted with your life. She never loses her cool, not in front of you, and it allows you to hold onto the calm a little better.

“How many?”

“Not big enough to worry, but it’s unusual.”

“Knowing their king, I’d say it’s enough to worry,” you muse, a sour taste filling your mouth at the thought of the man. There had been an incident involving envoys from the other kingdom. In a suspicious case of misidentification, the small group had been killed. The soldiers involved, your own, had sworn to all the gods above that they had believed them to be enemy spies but could not give an account of who had given them that information, or why they had charged in and killed them without reporting them first.

It left everyone perplexed, but the biggest consequence of that was the Sethian king crying for blood. The soldiers had been stripped of their ranks and handed over for interrogation, but the muddled explanations were not satisfactory for the other ruler. While your kingdom wasn’t small by any means, you still wished to avoid warring with Sethia, what with all the other threats in the lands.

“Ahem.” You look over to see Leto frowning at you. “I agree, Your Majesty. Which makes me wonder if it’s wise to have certain council members here.”

As one, all of them—except you—shoot speculative glances at the man to your right, seated opposite Anna. Gavin stares back at them unflinchingly, and you draw their attention back to you with a light cough; fighting to keep your hands relaxed, choosing instead to lean in and rest your chin against steepled fingers.

He’s much older than you. Leto has been on this council since your father’s time, and you can admit he’s good at what he does. As the Minister of Laws, and thus the head of law enforcement he’s done a fantastic job of controlling crime within your lands, especially the capital.

But there has always been something about him that makes you want to recoil and keep him away. Whether it be the barely-hidden mockery in some of the things he says, the contempt clear in his gaze, or the hunger for power barely contained by his respect for the rules. There is also, of course, the biggest source of your aggravation when it comes to the man.

“You think it’s unwise to have our Lord Commander attend a council meeting, Lord Leto?” There’s a note of warning hidden in your silken voice, but the man doesn’t flinch. “One that involves reports of enemy soldiers?”

“I merely wish to remind you of our Lord Commander’s origins. He is, after all-”

“The man who wins our battles for us and keeps us safe. That is all you should keep in mind when it comes to Lord Gavin.” Your tone had been sharper than intended. Not waiting for a reply, knowing there won’t be one worth listening to, you turn to Gavin. “What do you think?”

How he manages to remain level-headed even in the face of Leto’s ridiculous suspicion is beyond you, but it’s always been one of his more agreeable traits. “It could be a red herring, but we still need to keep an eye of them.”

“Send Eli to the borders, give him fifty men. More if you think it’s necessary. And have someone contact the Mage Tower.”

“You think the mages will get into it?” Anna asks. “They’ve always remained neutral.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way. Has their head mage been located?” Your father taught you many things when it came to relations with different factions in all the lands. One of them had been to never, ever make an enemy of the mages.

But if you do, make sure you have people of similar power on your side first.

“No. His Excellency—Lord Lucien is still missing.”

“Assign some men to help them, just make sure you pick the ones less likely to be freaked out by mages. Actually, tell Karyu he’s got the mission, but have him give you an accurate list of the men he recruits. Tell him to work with our spymaster.”

“I’ll have a word with her, we need more eyes in Sethia’s capital as well,” Gavin says, wincing at the thought of having to track down the elusive member of their council. She probably already knows what’s going on, but you should still have a word with her about showing up for these meetings.

“Tell her to come find me.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

You cast an expectant gaze around the table, ignoring the pointed looks by the old crones you wish could be forced to retire.

“Are we done, then?”

“One more thing, ma’am,” Leto leans in with a tight-lipped smile, eyes drifting to the man on your right once more. The determined look in his eyes has your hackles rising at once. “I know you said not to bring it up, but I must, once again, impress upon you the importance of keeping peace with Sethia.”

“What’s on your mind, Lord Leto?” you ask, trying your level best to keep your discomfort out of your voice. He looks at the members sitting around him before meeting your eyes, straightening his posture a little more. You don’t think it’s necessary; if the man stiffens up any more he might snap something.

Oh, perhaps he should keep puffing up a little more.

“Keeping his origins in mind, I feel the need to ask if you think they could actually be of help to us.” Gavin seems to be listening intently, much to your secret dismay. “He was born in Sethia, regardless of his current position, and I wonder if, perhaps, we couldn’t arrange a diplomatic visit to arrange a treaty—one led by Lord Gavin, of course.”

‘Oh, you would just love to send him back into the jaws of the wolves, wouldn’t you?’ you think darkly.

“As you said, my lord, Lord Gavin was born there,” you respond, keeping your tone neutral. “But he has lived here longer than anywhere else; he belongs to our kingdom. To answer your question, no, I do not think it would be wise to send him to treat with them. I doubt they would respond as peacefully as we hope they might.”

Leto looks far from pleased at your answer.

“Now, if there’s nothing else, I believe lunch is ready.”

You shoot out of your seat, striding off before anybody can stop you, and the clanking of heavy armour tips you off to Gavin’s presence behind you. Closing the heavy door behind you, you grab him by the arm and pull him into an alcove near the door, behind the statue of one of your esteemed ancestors. He doesn’t even protest, long used and resigned to your antics.

With how often you’ve used it, you wonder if one of your predecessors created this space for the very same purpose.

Gavin stands close behind you, enough that you could lean against him easily if you wished to do so. You very much do, but now is the time for some basic espionage, not acting on your often overwhelming emotions.

His breath puffs warmly against the nape of your neck as he leans in, no doubt straining his ears. You remember the first time you had done this, a smile curling along your lips when you remember the aghast look on his face at your sneaky ways.

You hear the door open, Leto’s calls of ‘Your Majesty!’ following. You both stay quiet as some of the other council members approach him.

“It was a good plan, Lord Leto. But you know she would never agree to send him away.”

“Hasn’t this gone on long enough? The late king took him in out of the kindness of his heart, treating him like one of our own, but their closeness is simply unacceptable,” Leto mutters, and you can imagine the great scowl on his face with ease. “How is any future husband of hers to accept it?”

“He’s an important asset to the military. Surely, you cannot disregard his achievements,” one of his friends try to offer.

“I’m not. I agree that he’s a gifted soldier, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is a foreigner. And yet, she still treats him like her beloved pet.” Their voices fade as they begin to walk down the hallway, but you stay in your little space, trying to breathe through the sudden rage that demands you find Leto and send him on a vacation to the dungeons.

“It’s not like that,” you whisper, all the doubts you had never quite buried finding their way to the surface once more. Because how you see the two of you differs greatly from how others see you: a fledgeling queen and her foreign knight.

“I know that. The people who matter know that,” he says into your hair. You exhale forcefully, nodding at his words. Sensing the calming waves of your mind, he continues.

“He’s an asshole, but his plan has some merit,” comes a murmur that threatens to send you hurtling back into a temper. You whirl around, looking at him in disbelief, advancing on him until he’s pressing back into the wall.

Much to your consternation, he remains infuriatingly calm even in the face of you nearly breathing fire at him.

“Oh, he’s not wrong, you say? Why don’t we fix this, then? His other solution was to marry you off, maybe we should pursue that plan too?” you spit out through gritted teeth, a voice in your head telling you none of this will help but you can’t stop the rapid thrumming of your heart in your veins. Leto has a way of getting under your skin and you’re tired of letting him, but he just makes you so angry.

“It would’ve helped,” Gavin agrees, raising a hand to tuck a lock of your hair behind one ear. “But as I told him, I could never leave your side.”

His smile is softer than all the fabrics you’ve touched in your life and good god this man puts Peggy’s desserts to shame.

“You could.” Your shoulders slump as you recall the furious threats you had made against the councillors wanting to marry Gavin off. “I’d never force you to stay.”

“No, I couldn’t,” he says firmly, and the anger leaves you in a rushed breath when armour-clad arms wind around your waist, pulling you in. You pretend you can hear the familiar, steady beat of his soft, martyr heart beneath the steel as he tucks your head under his chin.

“I don’t own you, Gavin,” you repeat, for the umpteenth time. “We’re friends. We’ve known each other since we were ten. Short of committing a massacre, you know I would support whatever decision you make.”

Friends.

A wary, subdued boy in plain clothes, standing at your father’s side when he returned from war. A ward, he’d declared, from Sethia. Be nice. You remember being baffled at his presence, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You had fallen into slumber near the window, and at the first sound of hooves thundering across the grounds you had sprinted to the hall.

But who was this little boy looking like a baby bird displaced from its nest? Surely, his parents would come looking for him.

Years went by, and there was no attempt at contact from Gavin’s people. You used to pester him about it, asking if he’d like to send them a letter, but his response was always a little smile and a quick shake of his head.

“They don’t want me back,” he told you once. “I like you much better anyway.”

That was the day you decided Gavin was one of you. If they wanted him back, they would have to fight you for him. It was risky, to allow him to join the military. It just wasn’t done. Wards were glorified hostages, a way to keep kingdoms in line.

But Gavin is ours now. He won’t go back.

He still faces contempt from people who believed he was a spy, a man who could tear the country apart. But he remains steadfast at your side through it all, content to shield you and strengthen your soldiers. A warm, reliable presence. Somewhere along the way, he became a big part of what home means to you.

“I never asked you, did I?” you realize, all of a sudden, cheek smushed against unyielding plate, fingers tracing the symbols etched into the metal.

“Ask me what?”

“If you wanted to go back. To Sethia,” you clarify and your heart throbs madly as you wait for him to reply.

He takes moment to think it through.

“I did when I first came here. Everything was unfamiliar, I didn’t know anyone...it wasn’t home,” he admits, and you pull back slightly, scrutinizing his expression. You feel his breath on your skin, see his mouth so close; you force your eyes back up, grappling with the sudden surge of desire. His proximity flusters you more than he would ever know.

He shifts slightly, his own gaze drifting down your face before he looks up quickly. Feeling a bit too warm, you finish his train of thought in the way you’d hoped it would end.

“But...now everything is familiar and this is home?” You can’t hide the hope in your eyes, and he doesn’t reply for a moment, expression blank. You feel his hands struggling with something behind your back, but just as realisation dawns he’s pinching your cheek hard with a gloveless hand, a laugh shattering his poker face at your immediate disgruntlement.

“Yes. This is home,” he assures you, warm tones and honeyed eyes leaving you feeling disconcertingly hot. You avert your gaze with haste, your stomach clenching with emotions that still give you sleepless nights, and Gavin releases you only brush his fingers along your jaw and cup your cheek. “Which is why I ask that you let me do whatever I can to help.”

The warmth leaves you in an instant. You slip out of his comforting hold and out of the alcove without another word. “No. Time for lunch!”

You stalk away, breath heavy and fists clenched, oblivious to the man standing at the end of the hallway. Gavin, who slips out behind you, watching you go with a hooded, wistful gaze, turns to look at him.

“Lord Commander,” Lord Leto greets him, a tiny, knowing smile on his lips. “I believe we have some matters to discuss?”

You’ve already disappeared around the corner, and with a sigh, Gavin follows him.

You’ve loved Gavin for nearly half your life.

You don’t know when it went from trying to make the quiet, moody boy smile, to the same boy’s smile making your entire day better. You don’t know when you fell in love. It’s carved into you so deeply you wouldn’t know who you’d be without it. You’ve gotten into all sorts of mischief together, but kept each other out of trouble and had each other’s backs no matter what.

Gavin has devoted his life to protecting you, but you value his safety and happiness just as much. You’ve fought to keep him with you, to make your home his home, and you will continue to do so until your dying breath. It would be him and you, fighting at each other's backs, sneaking food from the kitchens late at night, learning how to sew because you did everything together.

He was there when your father left you, standing at your back as you beat your sword, and your anguish, against a training dummy. He was there with his clear eyes and no judgment, coaxing you to eat something when it felt like your appetite had deserted you. He helped you breathe.

You had been there for each other after your first kills.

It’s not as if everyone suspects him. The men he fights with admire him deeply, looking to him for guidance and as a role-model. Most civilians have even set their prejudice aside, acknowledging his loyalty, won over by his charismatic demeanour, charming people everywhere he goes, often to your own frustration—mostly because you feel you’re not nearly as likeable, despite Gavin’s assurances.

But he has a place here.

“So why are you telling me you’re leaving?” you ask numbly, standing in your chambers, in your nightgown as Gavin tries to get you to put a robe on before giving up and wrapping it around your shoulders.

It’s been a week since the council meeting, with more reports of Sethian sightings coming in. You had just awoken to Gavin’s knock at your door. He’s not in his armour, dressed comfortably for long travels instead and there’s a distinctly guilty look in his eyes, with a steely resolve sheltering it. There’s a scroll in his hands.

Your heart plummets at the sight.

“If I don’t at least try—it might work, ___,” he says, so earnest it might break you. “Eli will be taking over for me, they’re sending someone else to the borders.”

“Or it might not, and they’ll kill you. And then I’ll kill them.” He sighs, rushes to you, dropping the paper on a table before cradling your pale cheeks and forcing you to meet his gaze. You wonder if you could reach it before him and throw it in the still lit hearth, set it on fire before he can do anything. “No.”

“Will you force me?” he asks, and a slap to the face would’ve hurt less. He notices how your face crumbles and looks slightly apologetic, but still so damn determined.

“You know I won’t.” He dips his head, pressing his forehead to yours, sweet syrup on his breath and he doesn’t get to do this, not when he’s leaving.

“I know. This is something I need to do. But, listen to me. I will come back to you.”

“Is it because you want to leave? Did I do something?” you croak, thoughts on the verge of spinning out of your control, and he visibly holds himself back from leaning in. “You’re my family. You know that, don’t you? I don’t care if they’re of the same blood as you, I…” you can’t bring yourself to continue, keeping your eyes locked with his despite the tears springing in them. But he understands.

And so he steps back to unsheathe his sword, sinking to one knee. His sword—one of a pair, forged for the two of you when you both came of age. They’ve never been too far apart either. God, you had been so confident that he’d be with you forever. He holds it pointed down, the tip of it sinking into the thick carpet.

“Listen to me.” His tone is firm in that way he uses when he needs you to focus.

You attempt to quiet your mind, knowing full well your heart is a lost cause, feeling as if the floor is collapsing beneath you.

“ ___. I swear, upon this sword, I will come back to you. Alive.” You stare down at him in conflicted silence. “You’ve protected me for so long. Let me fix this for you. I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t try. And...”

You clutch the silk of your nightgown anxiously.

“And if I didn’t feel the same way, I would never even think of going back there,” he tells you, a glow settling about him as the sun begins to peek at your parting.

“If they hurt you...” you warn, eyes darting to your own sword out of habit, where it rests near your bedside. He reaches for your hand, brushing his lips across the back of it and keeping them there for a moment. Even with the chaos swirling within your chest, the soft contact sends your nerves tingling.

“I know. It won’t come to that.” He looks up at you, soulful eyes pleading and chipping away at your resolve. “Will you sign the mission?”

It’s true. You have protected Gavin, kept him close and within reach. This is a moment that will change your lives forever. You could choose to refuse, and not sign off on this. You could keep him safe.

Or you could trust him.

You sign it in resigned silence.

You could never disrespect him, or do him the injustice of not believing in him when he’s done nothing but support you all this time.

‘You don’t know that they won't hurt you. And I know you know that,’ you think, watching him walk to the door, turning to smile at you one last time. ‘Other people aren’t like you. They’re not good.’

You wave back at him, trying to muster a smile, but the thought that this could be the last time you see him makes it near impossible. “Gavin?”

He hovers at the threshold, hand resting on the mahogany door frame. Words unspoken hang in the air between you. They’re crawling up your throat, roaring to be let out, but you swallow them like you’ve done for years.

“When you return, there’s something I have to tell you. So...Don’t take too long. I’ll be waiting.” He hesitates, wanting to ask. He leaves with a small nod.

It’s not goodbye. But the pain you feel, a quiet helpless prickling, cannot be reasoned with.

Gavin had come to your home a boy with a chip on his shoulder, and a determination to prove himself. Before you knew it, he became the one man you knew you wanted to spend your life with.

But even Anna had never been on board with that.

“You could do it. But it would make all our lives very, very difficult.”

So you had never told him how you feel. You had gathered up your love and willed it to hide within you, but it always showed, threatening to burst at the seams at the most inconvenient times. It showed how you would seek him out the minute you had some free time. How you insisted on learning together, and snuck him sweet cakes whenever he felt low. In how you watched him do the most mundane things as if he was channelling the wind his ancestors were famous for.

It became obvious when you reacted to his suitors with clear disdain, and sometimes your sword. It’s not something you have ever been able to contain, not completely.

It’s been two months. Two numbing months without him, spent pacing restlessly, asking for reports obsessively, waiting for news from the docks. It’s a bitter, hopeful taste on your tongue, a rope wound tight in your chest.

You have a few regrets. Maybe should’ve told him how you felt. Or begged him not to go. You could’ve met the king in neutral lands.

You look back down at the report in your hands, something about the fae. But the words seem to keep dancing at the edges of your comprehension, and you feel frustration rise swiftly as it’s prone to do without Gavin here to temper you. It’s unfair to put the responsibility on him, but everything just keeps reminding you that he’s not here.

There’s a series of urgent knocks at the door to your study.

“Come in,” you call out, placing the document down with no small measure of relief at the prospect of a distraction. Perhaps you should add this to the list of things you hate doing without him: read.

The door flies open to reveal Minor, panting heavily—but smiling widely. Hope blooms anew in your chest and you fight to control it.

“It’s him,” he breathes. “The ship docked nearly an hour ago. Lord Gavin’s back.”

There’s no hiding your anxiety as you watch the gates.

You had been advised to wait in the throne room, where you accept other visitors, and you had seen fit to ignore that. This isn’t a visitor.

For a brief second, you wonder if your attire is too casual, before dismissing it; it’s just Gavin. At least you’re in a dress—a plain peasant dress it may be—although Anna doesn’t seem to agree with that sentiment.

A few soldiers had been sent to escort them from the docks, Gavin’s personal horse taken along despite concerns that it could be seen as inappropriate. Why would it be? It’s his horse.

And when he rides in through the gates, you nearly collapse at the sight of him unharmed. Relief fills you, pushing out every ounce of worry you’ve kept bottled up, and you can finally breathe again. His hair is shorter. He looks a little tired but that’s to be expected with the long journey. When he dismounts, the parting of his heavy cloak gives you a glimpse of his attire. Finely woven clothes—in Sethian colours. Your eyes fall on the foreign insignia stitched at the front of his cloak, that you had overlooked in your all-consuming joy.

There are four unknown men with him. Soldiers, from the look of them.

You have a feeling, and you don’t know how you feel about it.

Gavin’s eyes fall on you and your heart flutters at the way they light up; he approaches you without hesitation. You can feel the gazes of the people around you, their confusion and unease, disquieted and unsure of what to make of this.

He bows at the waist, before straightening back up and holding his hand out to you. “Your Majesty.” You notice the approving looks the strangers shoot each other.

You don’t think twice about placing your palm on his. Whatever’s going on, you have him back. “Welcome home.”

He presses a kiss to the back of your hand, lips curling against your skin.

Gavin doesn’t seem that different, but you know something has changed. It’s obvious he has something on his mind; he offers a crooked elbow to you and escorts you back in. It shows in how he stands, confident with a secret in his eyes, while you sink down onto your throne.

“Well?” you demand, and he fights a smile. His entourage bristles slightly, but you hadn’t missed their curious, calculating looks when you had greeted them.

“There is one thing I should probably begin with.” You wait, breath held against its will in your chest. “My family has accepted me back into their ranks.”

You wonder if you misheard.

“Elaborate. Please.”

“My revered father has reinstated me. As a Sethian,” Gavin explains and one of his escorts steps forward.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Gavin of Sethia, to be precise. Your Majesty,” he added with haste, stepping back with a bow as you resist the urge to start tapping your nail against the gilded plates of your throne. Anna, Leto and Minor stand to one side; the council members look oddly pleased at the announcement, while Minor looks floored.

You had expected and hoped for many outcomes, but for his father to take him back just like that? Batting away the jealousy, frustratingly territorial in nature, you accept this result. Gavin would not look nearly as cheerful if something had gone wrong.

“That’s quite generous of him. It’s good to see the esteemed ruler of Sethia remains as kind as ever.” Very pointedly not rolling your eyes when you see two of the group looking pleased with the praise for their king. You look back at Gavin, silently demanding him to spit it out. He looks pleased as punch and you’re literally at the edge of your seat here.

“Yes, he’s quite benevolent. Unfortunately for me, he already has an heir. My brother has been raised to rule Sethia, despite being younger in age, so that is one position he couldn’t give back to me.”

“And…” you prompt, leaning forward in your seat.

“And so he sends me with a proposal. An alliance, to keep peace, one contingent on two conditions.” The man to his right steps forward with a little smirk, holding out a document to Gavin but he waves it away. “The first is to join Sethia in the New World alliance.”

You glance at Anna, and only look back once she nods. The look on Leto’s face is, for once, unreadable.

“And the second?” you ask, clutching the arms of your seat tighter.

“Marriage.”

For a moment, there’s complete silence in the hall, before it’s broken by Minor’s gasp and the sudden chatter that comes from behind the doors to the room. In the midst of the shocked reactions, your eyes remain fixed on Gavin’s smile.

“We’ll call a meeting,” Anna announces over the voices, when it looks like you’re unable to get a word out. “It’s good to see you, Prince Gavin. While we discuss your proposal, please allow Minor to escort your men to their assigned quarters. Would you prefer your old quarters or…?”

His eyes find you and you rise from your seat, descending from the raised platform with a sudden calm blanketing over you.

“Before that. Anna, I was wondering if I could ask Prince Gavin to accompany me? Just to the gardens, there are some concerns I’d like to discuss with him.”

You take his elbow before he can even offer it, pulling him along without another word.

Your mind is oddly quiet, as if unable to produce a coherent thought, as you walk, your preferred gazebo soon within sight: the one surrounded by all your favourite flowers. Gavin’s quiet throughout as well, but the moment you’re alone and out of sight he slips his arm from your grip to curl his hand around yours, his skin just warm as you remember it, and something relaxes in your chest.

“Just to be clear, when you say marriage…” you trail off, turning to him when you step into the shade.

“Well, Sethia found themselves with a prince to spare, and what better way to secure an alliance?” Gavin explains, holding onto your hand. “And, yes, that’s me.”

‘This is too good to be true’, you think and feel a bit faint when he sinks to a knee, no sign of nervousness in the smooth lines of his face. “Are you-?”

He takes a deep breath, reaching for your hand, and it’s just like when he was leaving, but this time he’s here to stay.

“I should wait, shouldn’t I? To be honest, I don’t think I can. I’m sorry about that. But we’ve waited so long. And these two months apart have been ones I never wish to repeat in my lifetime. Even though I’ve known it for a long time, I don’t think us not being together is an option. It’s awful, it’s what I imagine foul magic is like.”

He smiles up at you, a little wobbly and so very soft. Your eyes feel wet and damn it, you had wanted to propose first.

“I love you, ___. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. And I know we’ve both known for a long time, but...there’s no longer anything that can separate us.*” He takes a deep breath, and another. “I came up with a lot of things I wanted to say but I can’t seem to recall what they were. And the ring is in my trunk. I’m sorry for springing this on you.”

You study him, his quiet frustration at not being able to recall his no doubt carefully chosen words and the way his hand flexes around yours.

You sink to your knees, hands weaving through his hair and tugging him close to finally, without the need to hide, crush your mouth to his, nearly falling into him at the taste of him on your tongue. His arms wrap around you, holding you to him, his cheeks just as wet as yours.

You kiss and kiss to your heart’s content, because even though the council will insist on discussing it—

“Yes, I will marry you,” you whisper against his lips. A part of you worries your heart might burst with how desperately it’s pounding. It feels unreal, but you think kissing him will help. “I hated it without you too. I love you so much. And I agree, I suspect dark magic is quite similar in nature.”

He listens to your rushed words carefully, nodding along.

“We’ll ask the court mage, once the tower finally gives us one.”

Us.

You grin at him, primal satisfaction rushing through you at his hazy eyes and swollen mouth. “I can’t believe we’re going to do this.”

He kisses you again, breathless with a giddy sort of joy. “I’m going to be your husband.”

“I’m going to be your wife.” Your grin mirrors his, ridiculously wide and your knees are starting to hurt, but it feels like, in this one moment, everything is going right and you get to have the one thing you’ve wanted, properly.

“Glad you let me go?” He sits back, crossing his legs and pulling you onto his lap. After aeons of very carefully just keeping yourself off him, you can’t get over how right this feels, of your bodies pressed close and hands touching freely.

His smile looks a touch smug.

“...I suppose. This victory is yours.” You can’t feign displeasure over it when you can feel his lips on your hair, your forehead, and you can tilt your head back to let him slot his eager mouth over yours.

His response is a breathy laugh against your flushed skin.

“No, it’s ours.”

It’s time to plan a wedding.

Welcome to the finish line! Thank you for reading ♡

(MLQC masterlist)

#mlqc #mlqc gavin #mr love queen's choice #mlqc fanfic #mlqc bai qi #love and producer #mr love gavin #I LOVE GAVIN #now i can go back to reading without feeling guilty...for 2 days

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zero2heroyesindeed · 5 years ago

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Why I still love Star vs the Forces of Evil

Ever since Cleaved aired almost a year ago I have seen and heard nothing but people turning on the show. What was once held as one of the greatest cartoons of the modern era suddenly become the worst thing to ever exist all because the finale fell flat for most people. Now, I have rather controversial feelings on the finale (I personally think it’s a fantastic episode on its own with many great moments but it’s a terrible finale). But i’m not here to talk about the finale, i’m here to talk positively about this (overall) phenomenal show by reminding everyone why we fell in love with it to begin with a little trip down memory lane. So let’s get started.

Star is one of the most well written and developed protagonists of modern cartoons.

When we were first introduced to Star she was nothing but an irresponsible princess who fought monsters because from an early age she was taught all monsters are innately evil. This continues for most of season 1 and the audience is right there with Star. All we see are the monsters trying to steal her wand so of course we assume they are just evil because that’s what media has taught us. Then this happened.

youtube

This episode was the turning point not just for Star’s character but for the show as a whole as it began telling progressively more complex and challenging stories about prejudice passed down from generations and being born with privilege others don’t get. This episode turned everything the show was from that point on its head and threw everything Star thought she knew into question.

And from this point Star would only continue to grow from a reckless child who avoids responsibility to a powerful ruler and diplomat who fights for equality and always tries to find the best in others.

The series never talked down to its audience and it’s emotional moments could hit just as hard as Steven Universe

Like do some of y’all who began hating this show even remember some of these?

Honestly I started crying just going back to all these clips to grab these. No Disney show had tackled such complex emotions before Star came along. Yes the shipping wars got in the way and were distracting but that doesn’t take away from the fact this show was so special and even revolutionary. Who didn’t get chills when he saw Meteora’s master file? Or when Eclipsa made the ultimate sacrifice to save the people who hated her? Or when Star confronted Toffee inside the magic? Am I reminding you people how incredible this show was yet?

It had countless thrilling action scenes and it’s tent pole episodes are some of the best.

youtube

Star vs was a brutal show compared to what was on tv at the time. You felt every single time a character got hit and they could take some serious damage during the more intense battles. With each new villain the stakes continued getting raised. There are so many amazing action scenes in this show

And whenever it needed to go big, they went all out. Storm the castle, Star Crushed, Battle for Mewni (which is still one of my favourite season premieres of anything ever), Divide and Conquer, Coronation. Every single one of these are just phenomenal episodes that could easily be considered among the best animation in the 2010’s had to offer.

It had pretty great pacing in retrospect

So many see Star as more slice of life comedy than an epic over arching story but when you look back once the show began to get more plot focused it stayed on that trajectory. There were still the one off joke episodes but if a big revelation or twist occurred, it would not be forgotten about. Especially in season 3. Like season 3 of Star vs is just one of the best seasons of anything ever. After. Battle for Mewni, we get a breather episode of Star not wanting to let go of Marco then BAM Glossaryck’s alive, BAM Eclipsa is free and maybe she’s not as bad as everyone thinks. Things slow down for character’s to have arc focused episodes (mainly Marco adjusting to life on Mewni) but the show never felt imbalanced. Once it had it’s story it knew exactly when things needed to progress. Even in season 4 a lot of the more contained episodes play a part in the overarching narrative of Eclipsa becoming queen and trying to gain support from the people of Mewni. Any “filler” episodes are more outliers and there is rarely an instance where you go three episodes without any major plot points (at least in the second half of the show).

In conclusion, did Star vs the Forces of Evil have quite a few bad or boring episodes? Yes. Did it have a bad ending? Undoubtedly. But that shouldn’t change the fact this was and still is such a fun, well developed, action packed, emotional rollercoaster of a series that deserves far more credit than it’s been getting recently. Because that’s what Star was at its best. It was so different than anything else airing at the time and took risks with its world and characters that no other show would dare go near. The characters are wonderful, the animation can be downright beautiful, it’s story is absolutely insane but somehow works and will leave you either on the edge of your seat, in tears or both. And it’s worth taking a second look at to see why the show became one of the defining cartoons of the last decade.

And if you truly hate the finale just do what I do. Pretend the show ended with Cornonation. At least until we get that epilogue movie for Disney+ to create a better end point.

#star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #star butterfly #marco diaz #tom lucitor #toffee #svtfoe eclipsa #globgor #meteora #moon butterfly #buff frog #disney television animation #disney channel #disney xd #Youtube

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crystalirises · 4 years ago

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Waiting in the Wings

Hello! So this was an idea given to me by an anon recently. If the anon who sent that ask sees this, I’m so sorry if this wasn’t what you wanted as I decided to connect this story to a previous one-shot I made but with the song “Nothing Left to Lose” instead. I might do the reprise at a later time.

So hope you guys like this...

“Guess we all are born with parts to play.”

But was he really? He curled in on himself, his knees held closely to his chest as tears cascaded down his cheeks. The distant glimmering lights of New L’Manburg were but twinkling stars in the darkness, heavenly beings that were not meant for outcasts like him. He was nothing. He’d come to terms with that. He was nothing. The only role he ever had the pleasure to play was being the lunatic’s general’s son.

“Some of us are stars, and some are just in the way.”

He’d fought tooth and nail for his beloved country. He has his fair share of scars brought about by a senseless war for freedom. He’d done everything he could to make his father proud. When the day of independence came, his father had barely glanced at him. No. It was always Tommy or Tubbo. Never him. Heaven forbid his father even spare a single ounce of attention towards his real son.

“I know I was meant for glory.” His hand reached towards those radiant and far-off beams, towards a country meant for him. His father had promised him the world, holding him in his warm hold as they watched the sun set in the distance. But what did his father do? He gave it to Tommy, then he gave it to Tubbo. Wilbur was never good at making promises, was he? “But that's never what my story brings.”

“And yet I keep on waiting...”

“When you have the passion and the drive.”

When his father was casted away an exile that should have an exile, he dedicated himself to taking down the very tyrant that dared to enter his country. He poured his soul into his book, torn at his frayed morality for the sake of a father who never wanted him. He had written every weakness, every loophole he could see... anything for his father. He wrote and wrote and wrote until his hands bled, blood smearing across the pristine pages.

“You expect your moment center stage to arrive.”

His father hadn’t received his return as warmly as he had hoped. He chalked it up to stress, that his father couldn’t afford to be weak at a time where they needed to be strong. He held onto that small thread of hope, waiting for their day of victory... when his father would finally pull him back into his embrace. When his father stepped down as president, he waited for his name to be called. He waited. Nothing. He got nothing. Not even a hug. Not even a smile. Not even a glance. As if he... as if he was nothing.

“I show up with heart a blazing.” His heart burned and ached with the memories, of false vows he’d told himself to keep from having a mental breakdown. Joy coursed through his veins the moment he escaped the man’s grasp. He ran to Pogtopia. He ran towards his father. Towards his home. How could he have known that all he’d receive was a cold and empty glare? “Ready to achieve amazing things.”

“But I'm left waiting in the wings...”

��I hear my cue...”

Schlatt had given him everything, offered him the world if he swore to be loyal.

“And yet I'm kept there, waiting...”

But Schlatt was not his father.

“Know what to do...”

He had a life in Manburg. A house. A position. A father figure. He was valued.

“And still I stand there, waiting...”

But Schlatt didn’t really care about him.

“It's always someone else who sings...”

Schlatt wanted Tubbo. Always Tubbo or Tommy. Never him. It was never him.

“While I'm left waiting in the wings...”

“And so I keep on keeping on.”

Schlatt was nothing but a dictator, a man who held his dying country at the palm of his hands. Wilbur was nothing but a general, a man lost to war that his own son refuses to think he could have ever done anything for their country once it was free. Two men who were nothing but charlatans, with their silver tongues of poison and lead. Fundy was nothing but a fool to have fallen for their tricks.

“My chances come and then I blink and they're gone.”

He worked for the two of them, thrown himself at their feet in hopes of gaining their love and affection. They both used him. One offered him a warm and loving hand to hold, not knowing that the hand would leave him the moment he stumbled and fell. Leaving him to fall into the infinite abyss. The other offered him a delectable red apple to feed and feast upon, not knowing that the core was rotten and filled with writhing maggots. Leaving him to choke as he’s eaten alive from the inside.

“Always overlooked unfairly.” No one saw him. Nobody ever saw him. He felt invisible, like he was fading from the memories of those he once called friend and family. Even his own damn fiancé pretended he didn’t exist. But did he complain? No. No, of course not. He played the fool, played the court jester that everyone could laugh, point, and jeer at. “While pretending that it barely stings.”

“But it stings, yes it stings...”

His practiced smile was gone, shattered along with the mask he had donned.

“And I'll shed no tears...”

With his jacket sleeve, he brushed his tears away. Enough was enough.

“I'll only keep on waiting...”

But he didn’t want to keep waiting...

“If no one cheers...”

He’ll make them see him.

“Well, I can keep on waiting...”

No. He doesn’t want to wait anymore.

“Who cares how loud...”

He’ll burn it all to the fucking ground. He’ll stand tall upon the ashes of a nation that never cared for him.

“The silence rings...”

He’ll scream and scream and scream until his throat is red and burns with blood. He’ll make them hear him.

“You'll find me waiting in the wings...”

He’s stepping back into the narrative.

And this time?

He’ll make them all burn.

~~~~~~~~~

So... yeah. I still want Feral!Fundy because he deserves to go a little crazy... as a treat. So does Tommy because the current Tommy arc is killing me.

Hope you guys like this, bye bye!

(And if I repost this at a later time pls forgive me as I am on a temporary exile from the Fundy tag I can’t believe I’m having my own exile arc smh)

#fundy #mcyt

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davidmann95 · 5 years ago

Note

Hey David? Why is ours such a cruel and merciless God?

mirrorfalls said: (If you don't know what I'm talking about, your inbox should be filling up with more specific deets riiiiight about now.)

cheerfullynihilistic said: THE SNYDER CUT

Anonymous said: You don’t seem to think Superman’s public rep will take another beating from the Snyder Cut coming out. Honestly I thought you’d be way more upset than you seemed on Twitter.

Anonymous said: So uhh, against all thoughts and logic the Snyder cut is being released? Maybe as a mini series? Thoughts?

Anonymous said: SNYDER CUT!

Bullies. Jocks. Guys angrily asking if we know who their father is. Assorted dudebro nerd-oppressors of America:

You have failed us. You have failed us so hard. What else do we even keep you around for if not to head this shit off at the pass? Shame on you.

Okay, so seriously: I’m actually gonna put most bitching and moaning under a cut, because I know firsthand there are as many as several non-slavering maniacs out there who dug Man of Steel and Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice and who are simply and entirely reasonably excited that they’re getting this movie after all. I don’t feel like throwing a wall of text at them shitting all over this, so I’ll lead off with I think some fairly even-handed commentary on the real-world circumstances here, rambling speculation regarding the production, and some cautious optimism about the actual movie/s. THEN I’ll get to what I imagine most of you are here to see.

So totally in a vacuum: this is a cool, good thing. I’m the notorious theatrical Justice League-liker, but at best it was a compromised product due to the original creator - who like it or not clearly had an incredibly ambitious personal vision for these characters and their world - suffering a horrific tragedy forcing him off the project, and leaving his final stamp on blockbuster culture and a world he’d devoted years of his life to a flop with his name on it when he couldn’t even truly call it his own anymore. At worst, said tragedy was taken advantage of by suits to ditch him in the home stretch so as to try and shove out something ostensibly more marketable. But now because of a...very loyal fanbase, the man’s getting the opportunity and resources to rise like a phoenix and see at least some of his vision through in a huge way. That’s pretty remarkable.

Not in a vacuum this is fucking horrifying. I’ve already seen folks poo-poohing the reflexive fears that this will ‘set a precedent’, and they were right enough that I deleted my initial tweet on the subject because I didn’t think I could express my own opinion with any nuance in the space of 280 characters. Yeah, nerd whining definitely shaped Rise of Skywalker (another movie I enjoyed in spite of the circumstances of its creation). Hell, Sonic the Hedgehog crunched its CGI team prior to unceremoniously firing them to redesign his model thanks to outcry. That’s already a market force, and just to be clear upfront, if we can’t agree the predominant mode of operation for #ReleaseTheSnyderCut has been a toxic nerd harassment campaign when they spammed posts memorializing deceased actors and chased Diane Nelson off Twitter, we’re not gonna be able to have this conversation. And director’s cuts are you may have noticed also already a thing. But this isn’t changing direction on a project that’s already going to exist no matter what, this is turning back 3 years later on a commercial flop and dumping tens of millions of dollars into it, explicitly in response to that harassment campaign. It’s not *actually* going back and, say, remaking The Last Jedi, but by god to the naked eye it’s gonna be as good as for plenty of fanboys, and probably to some shortsighted execs as well. This is a new thing, and in this context it is a very, very bad one. Hopefully one that won’t amount to anything.

As for the movie itself: what the hell is this thing going to end up being? I assume with this sort of cashola being pumped into it we’re not getting any slapdash greenscreen or storyboarded sequences, but four hours? Is it really just going to be an expanded and revised version of what we saw in theaters, or is this including content that would have been in the originally planned Justice Leagues 2 and 3? My understanding is that those were already compressed into a single Justice League 2 before plans collapsed altogether, were they maybe filming side-by-side and this’ll be the whole shebang? If not is Snyder going to hedge his bets and end this on a clean note, or keep it ending on a cliffhanger in hopes HBO will throw another $250 million his way to keep going? Does DC want to keep going? Would they give into fan pressure on releasing after all what was widely publicized as the first film of a duology or trilogy with dangling threads if they weren’t going to be at least watching the numbers to see the feasibility of returning to this in a bigger way? Not that I think WB execs would piss into Snyder’s mouth if he were dying of thirst at this point if he simply asked to be able to do Justice League 2, but if he floated that if they instead just give him a liiiiiiiitle more money he can finally deliver unto them their very own Avengers - one that they can work on even during quarantine since it’s mostly just VFX work left - and hey if it works out he’s got a sequel or two cued up and ready to go? Maybe they look at their scattered plans and say the hell with it and end up giving this a theatrical release and sequel with Snyder holding the reigns again if this ends up a killer app; stranger things have happened, if not many, and somehow this is already happening in the first place after all. Alternatively, if this succeeds, could they go “thanks and good on ya, totally do another, but it’s gonna be an HBO exclusive so you’re only getting a hundred million, figure it out”? Would Ben Affleck return? How much reshooting will he be willing to commit to even for this? And most importantly, since this is potentially going to be serialized as six ‘episodes’, will We Got This Covered count this as another ‘win’ since their bullshit rumor mill algorithm spit out “Justice League HBO TV show” recently?

As for the project itself: I ain’t subscribing to HBOMax for this bad boy, but once it becomes more widely available I can’t claim I won’t probably watch it. It’s basically a new movie about the Justice League, and if there’s anything I WOULD wanna see Zack Snyder do in the DCU, it’s the movie finally moving past pseudo-realism (aside from some of those dopey costumes) and leaning all the way into godlike superbeings bludgeoning each other through continents. I absolutely wanna see his aesthetic take on the Green Lantern Corps, and New Genesis, and time travel, and all the other weird promises of where his movies were going to go climaxing in a ridiculous super-war across all spacetime. It’s the same reason J.G. Jones was an exciting choice for Final Crisis before he had to leave, seeing a guy known for his work in an ultra-real grungy superhero style starting there and building up to seeing his version of absolutely wild cosmic spectacle. And no, to respond to one of the initial asks, I’m not worried about the impact on Superman. Everyone seems to have accepted this is its own distinct thing whether they like it or not, I think him getting to complete his ‘arc’ will quiet down many of the folks who like to yell at every other version as retro nonsense since now they’ll be able to be smug about having had the best take rather than pining for a lost finale, and I’m not interested in further Superman movies at the moment anyway with Superman & Lois in the pipe (which I was originally paranoid would be endangered by this when rumors first started floating, but if it’s been brewing since November then if they wanted to strike that down to ‘make room’ according to their Byzantine ever-shifting rules, they would have by now). Far as I’m concerned, as long as the other DC movies get to keep doing what they’re doing during and past this - even Pattinson in his corner, however that works - then totally let Snyder work out all his Wagnerian superhero bullshit for another flick or two. If nothing else, maybe we’ll learn what the hell that diagram up there is supposed to mean. And a plea I want to clarify upfront is wholeheartedly sincere: we’re already down the rabbit hole, so let Snyder to literally whatever he wants with his non-theatrically released Justice League. Zero input or veto power from outside parties. If he wants Flash to hang dong or Superman to say fuck or Batman to learn he’s Steppenwolf’s secret dad or Cyborg to learn he needs to eat babies to fuel his machine parts, let him go for it. Whole point is this is now his thing for people who want his thing.

Okay, beneath the cut the filter comes off, so go ahead if that’s your jam.

Hahahahahahaha this is gonna be such a fuckin’ shitshow you guys, Jesus Christ.

They’re giving the dude who did BvS and wants to make an Ayn Rand adaptation someday $30 million to take another crack at this monstrosity! 30 goddamn million smackaroos for four fucking hours of by many accounts roughly the same basic movie, except now presumably with what little coherency, fun, and clean character work the theatrical cut managed to pull off excised in return for weighty staring, ponderous pseudo-philosophical musings, hackneyed symbolism, aimless mythology teasing, and Steppenwolf I understand being decapitated by Wonder Woman at the end rather than taken back to Apokolips. I didn’t even spoiler mark that shit because don’t you dare pretend you care about the fate of Steppenwolf. I won’t have it.

I used to wonder if I was indeed missing the forest for the trees with these movies, that I was so inflexible in my personal image of these characters - even though I appreciate plenty of alternate takes on them and even some stories that bend or break what I consider their ‘rules’, just not these - that I was incapable of grasping or appreciating these films on their own merits as works of art using those archetypes in wildly different ways; even I could see there were good moments and interesting ideas on display despite seemingly failing to come together. No matter how much I personally deconstructed how and why it wasn’t working, I couldn’t do it to my own satisfaction to the point of stamping out that niggling little worry with how many folks whose opinions I respect love ‘em. Until I finally remembered that the Cadmus arc of Justice League Unlimited is totally the same basic story as BvS, centrally driven by an even worse take on Superman, and that’s still one of the best superhero stories of all time. These just stink by any merits, and while I think Justice League absolutely has the potential to be the most *entertaining* of the bunch, it’s not going to magically become *good* in the eleventh hour. Not to lift up Joss Whedon of all people as some kind of savior, I’m on the record that my love for Justice League as-is is some kind of inexplicable alchemical accident, but I promise that there is not going to be one single addition to this movie that’s going to make up for the removal of “Just save one person”.

Also I’m already not looking forward to dudes tweeting “whoa, he’s splitting it up into a serialized narrative, reflective of the sequential nature of the characters’ primitive native pictorial medium! Or mayhap in ode to the pulp film adventure serials which inspired those in turn! Even the Justice League children’s cartoon for dumb babies, which was itself...made up of episodes! That’s three references in the structure of the thing alone! The man’s operating on an entirely different level!” “God, isn’t it amazing how much better he understands the source material than you”, they shall say, about a man who I understand just very confidently referred to Doomsday in his livestream as having destroyed Krypton in the comics. Again, don’t you say they won’t, just the other day I saw folks tweeting they just realized that since Jor-El wears armor over his bodysuit that technically means Superman’s whole costume is underwear which means Snyder’s totally honoring that without putting him in ugly dumb red panties so checkmate, dorks.

(Okay, in fairness, I know Snyder was saying that’s his take on what happened to the moon in the past of the movies and maybe I only misheard that he thought that also happened in the comics, and it’s trivial information anyway. Still sucks though, that seeming out-of-nowhere Jax-Ur shoutout was like the one thing I liked about that otherwise interminable Krypton sequence. And why is there a second Doomsday? You did Death of Superman already!)

And further SPOILER thoughts below on the reported plots of 2 and 3:

It’s also an amazing, perfect sort of narrative synchronicity that the hypocrisy of Man of Steel in presenting Superman as a savior would (will?) be matched by the movies also rejecting that promise long-term. In there, Jor-El’s musings on the capacity of every living thing being capable of good, the closest the film has to a singular moral statement, are proven wrong when Zod has to be put down like a mad dog, and rather than the one who’ll bring us into the sun, Kal-El’s presence draws ruin from beyond the stars to our world. And again in BvS with Doomsday. And again in Justice League 1-3, where in spite of claims by Snydercutters that it’s okay for Superman to be a really lousy take on Superman because it’s totally supposed to take several movies after putting on the costume and calling himself Superman, including his own death and resurrection, for him to really, like, become Superman, man, he remains a liability to the end. His death lures in Steppenwolf, the Kryponian matrix in his genes is Darkseid’s goal, he becomes the villain of the first act of Justice League 3 - possibly of his own free will depending on which version you’ve heard about - and at the final showdown, it’s Batman who sacrifices himself to stop Darkseid and save the world and inspire the rise of superheroism, because Batman, you see, rules, whereas Superman, stay with me here, drools. A letdown given BvS was just about the one major story of the last 30 years to unambiguously conclude Superman is better than Batman, but not a shocker. None of what I understand goes down in these - iconography from the likes of Fourth World, Crisis on Infinite Earths, Death and Return of Superman, Rock of Ages, Final Crisis, and Injustice reused but stripped of all context and thematic weight that gives it meaning (even Injustice is built on the premise of having a ‘good’ Superman to contrast the dictator); Lois being the ‘key’ because of her connections to two men, one she married and one she bears; time travel that even by the very generous suspension of disbelief applied to it in a genre like this operates by two obviously completely different sets of rules in its only two uses, and is then used to write the entire second movie of the trilogy out of continuity in the first act of the third, making one and a half of these movies pointless - is shocking. It’s just more empty notions and unfulfilled promises offered up to a fanbase staking everything on the idea that all the tampering, all the wild swings, all the meandering, it’s all building UP to something, not possibly just a dude who doesn’t understand these characters but wanting to look very clever with them before building up to one more rad punch-up. So yes, make these movies. Let what can be gleaned from them as worthwhile be revealed, leave the rest of it up for examination to be judged as it deserves and let it, finally. Finally. Be done.

#Justice League #Snyder Cut #Zack Snyder #DCEU #Worlds of DC #Superman #Man of Steel #Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice #Superman & Lois #DCTV #Analysis #Opinion

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peachyteabuck · 5 years ago

Text

eye on the prize

summary: commission for astrid, who asked for chris evans x reader interview fluff.

pairing: chris evans x reader

words: 3,006

trigger warnings: RPF, slow burn, heavy flirtation, idiots in love, nondescript mentions of misogyny in the media as a business, a likely poorly reconstructed timeline (time fake and reality is a construct!)

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

The hotel bed is large, big enough for four of you. The blankets are thick and the soft, the pillows a perfect balance of structured but plush. Sunbeams stream onto the mused sheets, warming your face. It’s nice, but only as nice as the calm before a major tropical storm can be. As your phone alarm blares next to you, you start to wonder if being caught in a category five hurricane would be better than press junkets.

A whole day talking to people about a movie you made months ago that you know jack shit about. Sometimes you have nightmares about giving a book report on a novel you’ve never even opened (you’re how old? And high school is still haunting you? Jesus, you need to go back to therapy) that cause you to break out in a cold sweat and kick all the covers from your bed and buy a bunch of stuff online to distract yourself from your racing heart and shaking hands.

Still, those are never as bad as interviewers asking about character arcs and plotlines and your relationship with actors you’ve barely (if ever) met and whatever else a normal interviewer would ask a normal interviewee when all you know is your character, the fact that she does shit with magic, and she’s Dr. Strange’s daughter. Anything other than that is anyone’s guess.

Your stylist and makeup artists are the ones to eventually drag you out of bed and plop you into hair and makeup after squeezing you into an incredibly tight pair of jeans and a non-controversial sweater. The forty-five minutes are a complete blur, but then again, nothing feels real until Sebastian hands you a large coffee in a travel cup that bares no logo or other kind of copywritten signifier – your knight in shining…cardboard? What are travel coffee cups even made of? Paper? Can paper even “shine?”

You’re nearly purring when the taste of caramel macchiato burns your tongue. “Ah. Thanks, Seb. I appreciate it.”

Sebastian shrugs, sipping at his own drink masquerading as generic brand. “No problem. I didn’t want you to bite an interviewer’s head off this morning. Or worse, mine.”

You play-hit him in the face and laugh with him, making small talk and trying to kill the time before the mind-numbingly long day really begins. You’re halfway through a rant about the woes of make up artists trying to put you in a full face of makeup to a man who barely has to put on concealer, the fucking asshat, when Chris makes an appearance.

“Hey, guys,” he’s is also drinking coffee from the unmarked travel cups. He looks you up and down before taking another sip. “You look really nice today.”

You blush, smoothing out your sweater – one of the color-blocked ones that sits at the intersection of casual, feminine, and not-intimidating. “Thanks, you too.”

Sebastian’s about to say something snarky when someone wearing a headset calls upon the three of you.

“Let’s get going, people!” she calls, ushering you into three barely-comfortable seats. You’re between Chris and Sebastian, the sheer mass of them making you feel approximately three feet tall. It doesn’t take much to forget how large they both are – even if Sebastian doesn’t weight two hundred pounds anymore and Chris was able to tone down his exercise regime since finishing Infinity War, you still feel like you’re sitting at the big-kid table for the first time.

The first interviewer is from some YouTube channel you only know because your fourteen-year-old niece gushes about them every family dinner. The woman who sits in front of you is young, cute. Dresses trendy, dark eye makeup and red lips.

She’s nice, too, along with being knowledgeable about the projects of each of you. She banters with Sebastian about his seven million movies before turning to you.

The interviewer turns to you. “And you! You’re nominated for some pretty major awards!”

You smile wide, unable to help yourself. “Yeah, best actress and best original score.”

“That’s so cool,” Chris mumbles. You blush and pretend not to hear him as you speak again.

“It’s just super crazy,” you tell the interviewer. “Not even gonna lie. When I was younger, I would look at stars who like, cried when they found out they were nominated. Not even winning, just their name shows up on the ballot. But now I’m like, it’s me, two-time Grammy nominee! I was nominated for a Grammy, twice!”

Sebastian chimes in, laughing. “When we were at bunch together, I got there early and the caterer showed up and they were like, we’re here for the two-time Grammy nominee?”

“You had a brunch?” The interviewer asks.

You nod. “Yeah, I bunch of the Avengers cast and the cast from my last movie were in my hometown, which is super rare, so I hosted this giant brunch-”

“As one does,” Sebastian chimes in with a crooked smile.

You nearly hit him. “Yes! As I do! I wanted to see all my friends, whom I love, so I host a brunch. Sue me! Anyway…I hosted this brunch and invited a bunch of people over. Just a bunch of my favorite food from my favorite restaurants. Everyone I’d wanted to see for such a long time was there. It was amazing.”

The interviewer paints a faux frown across her face, looking at the man on your right. “Chris, you look very sad.”

“I didn’t get invited to the brunch,” Chris frowns. Unlike the woman in front of you, he looks genuinely sad. A twinge of pain bounces in your ribcage, and you rub his cardigan-clad back

“You were out doing Broadway shit!” you laugh. “You were halfway across the country!”

Chris continues to frown, staring at the printed-out pictures from the social medias of various guests. A few are from yours – you in a flowy sundress with your head thrown back laughing, a shot of you and a few of your friends from college drinking alcohol in the bright mid-afternoon sun. One you recognize from Sebastian’s Instagram, another from Hemsworth’s. A few from Twitter of a few of your non-movie-star friends. You look so happy in all of them, so beautiful in each shot. “I still wanted to be invited.”

You just roll your eyes. “Okay, call me when you’re in my region of the country and I’ll host a brunch,” You touch your forefinger to his nose. Chris blushes, profusely, in his cheeks and his ears. “just for you and me.”

You don’t hear much after that, too focused on Chris’ eyes meeting yours and his small smile. You’re taken aback by how sweet, tender he looks, and before you know it the interviewer is saying goodbye and the next one is taking her place.

It’s a man this time, a little older than the last one with artsy facial hair and a button hip. He mostly pays attention to the two men and soon your brain goes on battery-saver and you’re lost in your own thoughts.

Are hipsters still a thing? Is that what this guy is trying to be? Do hipsters even like Marvel? Is that too “mainstream for them?”

Eventually he asks a question about you, your recent entry into the Marvel Cinematic Universe, your music, your composing. You’d be happy to talk about your passions, of course you are, but the first genuine question of the interview is positing towards…not you. You’re about to tune everything out again, but then Chris speaks and you snap back to attention.

“It’s always interesting to meet people who bring something new to the art form, ya know? A huge part of acting is learning and evolving and all that, especially from other actors,” Chris avoids your gaze, and the gaze of everyone else, as he speaks. “If you stop learning, if you stop growing, what’s the point? Why would I do this job if I didn’t think it could change me for the better?”

There’s a moment of thick silence, the heavy weight of Chris’ introspective answer settling over the people in the room. It’s one of the things you lo-

It’s one of the things you enjoy most about Chris, how dedicated he is to acting as more than a job. It’s amazing, truly, how much he adores what he does. You could spend the rest of time with him, a plate of cheese, and a bottle of wine; listening to him talk about how he thinks of acting as an art, how that art can impact people and society, how actors have a responsibility to that art (that is, of course, after you mock him endlessly for Not Another Teen Movie and Fantastic Four).

You feel like a high schooler again, doodling your first and his last name in hearts in your math notebook with your favorite pink glitter pen. You’re an adult, why are you blushing red as a raspberry every time he says something smarter than a fast food order?!

The rest of the day goes down in a blur, the only time you start to care again when someone on the production staff calls for dinner (yeah, no lunch on press junket day. You can ask for a light snack, but you learned the hard way a full meal is “bad for your figure” and “makes you likely to burp on camera” and a bunch of other stuff you care very little about).

All three of you groan in happiness when you enter the room designated as craft, the thick smell of barbeque hitting you like a baseball bat. But a good baseball bat, though, like…one you ask to be hit with. Honestly, you have no idea what you’re talking about because you’re so hungry.

When you finally manage to scavenge food, Sebastian’s right behind you as you stare at a very delicious looking tray of pulled pork. Your plate is already full, but what if they take the food away? And then what if you get hungry later?

“You know he’s flirting with you, right?” he whispers as you watch the man in question scroll through Twitter on his phone. Chris is eating about the same thing you are, plus celery. You almost make a quip about it being “nature’s floss,” but then you realize that would be dumb because Sebastian definitely wouldn’t find it as funny as Chris would.

You shrug, picking up a French fry from your plate. “Yeah, but you were, too.”

He scoffs into his second Americano of the morning. “Nah. Not like that. He likes you! He like likes you!”

“He does not-“

“And you like-like him!” He boops you on the nose and pinches your cheek like some sort of grandmother who hadn’t seen her fifteen-year-old son since he was five. “My little baby has a cruuuush!” he coos while making small kissy noises.

You’re about to bite back about how you’re not that much younger than him, but then the sound guy on the other side of the meat tray glares at the both of you. Looks like, while Chris couldn’t hear your bickering from the across the room, this dude definitely could – and he’s not very happy about it.

“Sorry,” you both mumble, shrinking away from the persecuting techie and his judgmental eyes.

Sebastian only talks again when you find an unpopulated corner, devoid of prying eyes and anyone who could be annoyed with the two of you gossiping like high schoolers.

“You know I’m not wrong, right?” he says around a bite of crisp apple. What is up with this guy and fruit? Sure, he’s on a restrictive diet for a role to keep him from bulking up (something at the intersect of keto and vegetarian but able to eat lean meats) but he’s can’t eat like, the vegan stuff? Why must he always eat like rabbit in your presence? “Have you not seen what he says on Twitter?”

You scoff. “No, because I don’t have a Twitter. And neither do you!” You narrow your eyes accusingly. “How do you know what he posts?” Sebastian rolls his eyes. “I see screenshots on Instagram, first of all. Second, he could be complimenting your music on the inside of a cave. It’s about the principle.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” you hiss. “Also, I’m done arguing with you about this. Let me find a cheeseburger and eat in peace. Is that too much a woman to ask, Sebastian!?”

He just laughs you off and lets you eat in peace, eventually getting his own food. Though, you suppose the meal was specially timed, because then Chris Evans is sitting next to you.

He’s about to say something, too, and you’re about to listen, but then you get called for an individual interview for a women’s health magazine and you have to leave him and you plate of food and fuck…you hate this job. A lot.

The interview is boring, once again, and the next time you have another coherent thought you’re taking the elevator back up to your hotel room and waving off your manager, who is telling you to be downstairs by seven tomorrow to catch your flight back home.

You’re just kicking off your heels when you hear a faint knock at the door. When you look through the peephole, you see a very sad-looking Christopher Evans. With his small frown and hunched shoulders, he looks like a kicked puppy; and even though all you want to do is take your bra off, you let him in.

He’s quiet for a moment before speaking as if he was a child preparing to be scolded.

“I lost my hotel key. And my backup got demagnetized.”

You bite back a laugh, trying to seem sympathetic. “Do you want to chill in here until security brings you another one?”

Chris nods solemnly as he steps through the threshold. “Thanks.”

Neither of you speak for a while, instead Chris looks around your quite messy (or “homey,” as you call it when you FaceTime your best friend and she scoffs at how easy you can make a room look like a hurricane tore through it) room and you…find an outfit for tomorrow?

You’re the first one to speak, only breaking the quiet after changing into fuzzy socks and sneakily taking off your lacey bra (and tucking it under the covers of the bed for you put away later).

“Well, that was excruciating,” you mumble. All you want to do is change into your biggest, most comfortable hoodie and your cotton panties and order room service and ignore humanity until you leave for a flight the next morning, but a man you’ve had a crush on since he appeared as Johnny Storm is right in front of you and after that talk with Sebastian your world is kind of shaken to its core and should you make a move? Is he the kind of guy to not like that? Would you want to be with a guy that doesn’t like that? What if he-

“Always are, I guess.” Chris interrupts your train of thought, saving it from going off the rails. When you at him he looks just as, if not more than, exhausted than you are. “That’s one of the things that you forget, I think. How hard it is to talk about these movies.”

You snort. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Chris smile a little wider as you laugh. “Yeah. Other movies I can talk about like, characters and plots and shit. With these I live in constant fear I’m gonna pull a fucking Ruffalo and get my ass fired from the best paying gig I’ve ever had.”

Chris laughs with you, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Word.”

An awkward silence fills the room and you find something, anything to do to avoid his heavy gaze under those thick eyelashes and his thick beard that you just want to run your fingers through or his even softer hair that you want to mess up while you-

“Do you want to get dinner together sometime?” you blurt. You’re ready to take back the words as soon as you say them, wanting to backtrack or say “just friends” or “ha-ha, just kidding!” or something else that absolves you of non-platonic commitment.

By a long stretch of luck that you can’t even begin to thanks a long number of deities for, Chris doesn’t laugh at you or turn you down or even walk out of the room. He meets your gaze with excitement in his eyes and a smile wider than your home state. “I’d love to,” is all he says. It’s all either of you get to say before his phone rings loudly, and the name of the head of security flashes on his screen. He sighs loudly, apologizing as he takes it. Somehow, you feel more awkward as he turns away and answers the call. You fidget with your hands, with a loose thread on the sweater you’ve come to hate more than anything else in the world, with your phone. Nothing makes it easier to face Chris again once he hangs up.

“That was…,” he laughs lightly. Not laughing at you, maybe at life or how weird his life is, but never at you. “You know. They fixed my key and want to give it to me in person.”

You swallow and nod. “Yeah, understandable. I’ll, uh,” you clear your throat. “I’ll see you…”

Chris finishes for you. “How about we find a good restaurant near here after I’m confirmed to actually be me by the private security detail our employers hired to make sure no one kills us? We can have that second dinner I’ve heard you always eat late at night.”

Holy shit…he remembered that time you vaguely mentioned how much you enjoy staying up late and eating lots of food. It makes you blush as you respond.

“Yeah that sounds,” you sigh happily, smile just as big as his is. “That sounds great.”

#chris evans x reader #lukis does commissions #lukis writes stuff #chris evans imagine

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