#war sadness fighting forgiveness humanity
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@the-real-sasuke-uchiha that's fair!
my theory is that one day after passing on the hat he walked into the forest of death and didn't come back out again (that's why it got that name) and no one ever really knew the specifics. if it was too wildly pathetic there'd be stories no matter how hard people tried to suppress it. i think he died alone in the woods talking to what may or may not have been a hallucination of the best friend he killed
it's interesting to experiment with ideas about how hashirama actually died but imo the way hashirama tells his story in volume 65 says so much more about who he was at the end of his life than anything canon could've shown us. i think leaving it up in the air was the right call
#naruto#naruto shippuden#senju hashirama#uchiha madara#suicide ment#if it wasn't clear#there's one fic i read that also had a theory about hashirama's grave being in the forest of death and that being why it's so weird#so my og theory of he killed himself alone kinda ended up getting smushed with that cuz i liked it so much#the only person who was there for sure was black (and/or white) zetsu just to keep an eye on the current ashura#if madara was actually there no one will ever know but him. and he's not telling#i 1000% believe hashirama killed himself tho and i also don't think it was via an honorable means like seppuku#to be clear i don't think it was just about madara#i think it was a mix of things#the first great shinobi war was on the horizon. kids were getting pushed through graduation younger and younger#the violence had gone from smaller clan wars to entire countries fighting each other#and now there were jinchuuriki involved#when hashirama attempted seppuku in the manga it was bc he believed he could bring about peace at the cost of his life#and that was worth it to him#so i think when he killed himself for real - having lost his best friend first to madness and then to his own blade#having failed so miserably at bringing peace that he'd created war on a scale he'd never imagined possible#having seen so much of what madara had predicted would occur occurring just as he'd said#having seen his every attempt to make things better only bring about catastrophe after catastrophe -#he couldn't forgive himself. and he couldn't see how trying to make things better again would do anything but cause things to get worse#so he took out the common denominator#i don't think hashirama's death was gloriously fitting for the god of shinobi or comically pathetic for the world's silliest president#i think it was just sad. just a grief-stricken human dying a human death
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━━ duty calls.
Created around the same time and having trained with one another, you and Casper have always butted heads. You'd compete over seemingly anything - how many souls one could reap, the days one could go without catching soul sickness, and the list goes on. Casper has always found you to be obnoxious, but when he sees you crying by yourself, he finds himself torn.
grim x gn!reaper!reader
contains: fluff, hurt/comfort, set before the main storyline, reader is NOT the mc, brief mentions of child death, USAGE OF GRIM'S REAL NAME, reader is a little shit
word count: 4.2k
a/n: FORGIVE ME IF THE WORLDBUILDING IS OFF I WAS TRYING MY BEST and ive only done one ending oops (finals hurts okay :((( ) also ... im not sure if reapers names are classified just to mortals and not other reapers but ykw imma take my liberties
"Seriously, do you ever get tired?"
Casper groaned irritatedly, running a hand through his snow-like hair. Blood like rust coated his scythe, spoils from his most recent hunt. The corpse still lay fresh in front of him, but their skin was cold and their eyes dead.
Boisterous laughter erupted above him. Sitting on the balcony of some person’s apartment, you grinned down at him - that infuriating, shit-eating grin that never failed to tick him off.
You kicked your legs childishly as you leaned back over the railing. Nestled against the crook of your arm was a scythe similar to his own, save for the more detailed design and color palette. Unlike him, you would constantly say, you liked to live a little.
Bold words coming from a bringer of death.
“Don’t blame me for you being slow,” you called down to him. Casper rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he glared up at you.
“I am not ‘slow’,” he grumbled. “You’re too eager. And get down from there, you’ll be spotted.”
You tilted your head. “It’s like, 3 A.M. What kind of idiot’s gonna be awake at this hour?”
“You’d be surprised. Humans will do anything but take care of themselves.”
“I guess,” you sighed, jumping down. You twirled your scythe absentmindedly, Casper leaning back to avoid getting hacked to pieces.
“Be careful with that,” he scolded. You, of course, ignored him.
“So are these the last of the guys?” you wondered, kicking at a corpse with your foot.
The alleyway was practically lined with bodies, so many that management had called upon both you and Casper to deal with the remnants of the massacre. Gang fights were a pain to deal with, second only to pandemics and war.
“It would seem so.” Casper gave you a look, to which you responded by sticking out your tongue. You were very mature, after all.
You stretched thankfully, rolling out your shoulder. “Thank God, I was starting to get depressed from all the dead people.”
“If you’re getting depressed from just this, perhaps you should consider a different career choice.”
“Nah.” You smiled. “If I left, who would I bully? You’d get all sad and lonely without me.”
“Hardly,” Casper scoffed. “If anything, I’d be relieved.”
“You wound me.”
“Good.”
“So mean,” you pouted. Casper paid you no attention, as per usual. It didn’t matter, though, since you immediately perked back up. “Hey, boo?”
“I told you not to call me that.”
“I have an idea.” And just like that, your cheshire grin returned. Casper sighed, already beginning to walk off.
“How wonderful,” he said sarcastically. “Share it with someone else.”
“Uh-uh, no.” As quick as a flash, your scythe was out, the blade curving in front of Casper to prevent his escape. “This one’s good, I swear.”
“Your definition of what is and isn’t a good idea needs some desperate fixing.” Still, he made no move to escape, instead turning around to face you.
“Let’s race.”
Casper raised a brow. “Race?”
You nodded eagerly, your eyes shining like jewels. In the darkness of the alleyway, the two of you were illuminated only by the neon blue lights of the city. Yet, as that same blue was captured in your eyes, Casper was reminded of a kaleidoscope, changing and turning in a multitude of different colors.
It was… captivating.
“If I win, you have to buy me a drink.”
Casper snapped out of his daze, a light flush blooming across his fair skin. Thankfully, though, you didn’t seem to notice, too entranced by another one of your ridiculous competitions. Seriously, there had to be a limit to how unprofessional you could be.
“You assume I have the time to buy you one,” he said with faux calmness, grateful for the night’s shadows hiding his complexion. You huffed.
“You could do it while you’re rebalancing yourself,” you said, as though it was obvious. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be anything big, just a coffee or a tea would be nice.”
“Fine, let’s say I stoop down to your level and agree to this… race,” said Casper. “What do I get if I win?”
You shrugged. “Then I'll just buy you a drink.”
Casper shook his head. “I’m not like you. I don’t drink on the job.”
“But you do cuddle an axolotl plushie when you sleep,” you pointed out. Instantly, Casper flushed red.
“Wha- What does that have to do with anything?!” he protested.
"I just thought about it randomly," you shrugged. "But seriously, that thing is huge, where did you get it?"
“Never mind how I got it," Casper crossed his arms and averted his eyes, his bottom lip turning up in a pout. “We’re getting off track.”
“Oh, so now you care about my games,” you teased. “Anyways, on how I’ll reward you…”
You spun your scythe back to your side, tapping its staff against the ground as you thought of a fitting reward.
“Oh! How about this?” You snapped your fingers, a figurative light bulb lighting up next to you. “You get to cash in one favor from me.”
“Any favor?” A smirk creeped onto Casper’s face, his interest finally piqued. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, [Name].”
“As long as it’s within reason and isn’t embarrassing,” you snapped, crossing your arms. “If you make me kiss your feet or something like that, I’ll kick your ass.”
“Of course,” Casper chuckled knowingly. “So, where to and when are we racing?”
“Hey, if you weren’t paying attention to the rules, then that's your fault. As for when the race starts, how about… now.”
“Wha- Hey!” Casper barely dodged as you shot past him in a blur of black. Hooking your scythe into the walls, you stuck out your tongue at him as you propelled yourself through the night.
“So long, Casp!”
Casper cursed under his breath. Quickly, he made haste to follow you. He flew through the air like a bird, twisting around light poles, skyscrapers, and billboards alike.
You weren’t as elegant, instead jumping from building to building like a modern superhero. You’d catapult yourself through the sky using your scythe as leverage, your laughter echoing in the slumbering city - free like the wind.
Casper didn’t have to follow you long to know where you were heading towards. Invisible to the mortal eye, yet painfully obvious to the eyes of reapers, was an entrance to the Underworld, a whirlpool of black and red that led straight down to your home.
As you launched yourself into the air once again, Casper came up next to you, his hair billowing in the cold night wind like smoke.
“Nice of you to join me,” you teased, elbowing him in the side. Casper rolled his eyes once again, speeding up. “Hey!”
Smoky tendrils of crimson and ink curled around your figures as the two of you neared the portal. The center of the whirlpool was a void seemingly leading to the abyss itself, but you’ve worked in this job long enough to know just what lay beneath.
True to his character, Casper wasted no time and shot straight into the thick of it. You, on the other hand, were a little more dramatic with your landing.
You spun in a backflip off of the last of the skyscrapers before letting gravity take you for a ride. Wind whistled past your ears as you fell, yet all you could hear was the rapid thump of your own heart. Adrenaline filled your veins. Soon, black and red lined your vision as the Underworld engulfed you.
The second you saw the tips of red-stained towers, you flipped yourself to face the ground. Closer and closer, you could practically taste it. If you delayed any longer, your life as a grim reaper could end prematurely.
Like the eyes of a devil, your pupils glowed in delight, activating your abilities. But rather than slowing your descent, you sped it up, shooting towards the ground like a missile.
Black blobs, the fuzzy images of your coworkers, scrambled to move out of your way. Turning your body, you landed hard on your heels, narrowly missing a fellow reaper.
For a moment, all you could see was dust. Before the clouds could disappear, you shook off the sting in your ankles and stretched.
“Woo!” you cheered, kicking your leg. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
“Quiet down.” Casper grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back. “Honestly, is there ever a quiet moment with you?”
You giggled. “Boo, you’ve known me long enough to know the answer to that. Oh, by the way, I’m craving some-”
“Hold it.” Casper bonked your head. “I only agreed to buy you something if you won.”
“Didn’t I?”
“No you didn’t,” Casper retorted. “Anyone with working eyes could see that I reached the ground before you did. Therefore, I won.”
“Uh, no.” You crossed your arms. “Are you gaslighting me? You’re gaslighting me. That's not very nice of you, Casp.”
“I am not gaslighting you.” Your white-haired coworker rolled his eyes. “As grim reapers, we cannot lie. Someone of your caliber should know this.”
You blinked innocently. “Did you just compliment me?”
Casper spluttered. “What in the world made you come to that conclusion?”
Taking a step forward, you leaned towards the reaper, a cheeky smile growing on your face. “You said ‘Someone of your caliber’. That means you think I’m capable.”
“You’d have to be a special kind of stupid to be incompetent after working as a reaper for so long,” Casper crossed his arms, fighting down the blush rising onto his cheeks. You were close, way too close. “Then again, I wouldn’t be surprised, seeing as how that was the only thing you heard from what I said.”
Heaving a sigh, he pushed you away with his finger.
“But don’t distract yourself from the fact that I won the race,” he said, a smug smirk replacing his exasperation.
“I was honestly trying to forget.”
Casper huffed, a pout forming on his lips. But the moment wouldn’t last long, as a ding sounded from both of your phones. When you checked it, you groaned when you saw a notification of unexpected emergency.
“Seriously?” you complained. “Overtime? Did a bunch of reapers die off or something? My soul’s going to get tainted at this rate.”
“Don’t complain.” Casper nudged you, but even you could see the irritation on his face. “It’s our job as reapers to reap souls on time, no matter what.”
“I guess. Still doesn’t make it any less annoying.”
“Agreed.” With a sigh, Casper summoned his scythe. “I must be off, now. See you on the other side, [Name].”
As he made his way back to the opening of the portal, his feet lifting off from the ground, a gloved hand reached out to grasp your chin. Gently, he guided you to look at him as he ascended.
“I look forward to cashing in on that favor.”
━
For as long as you could remember, things have always been this way.
Your earliest memory was of waking up to the crimson skies of the Underworld. Unaware and unknowing, you allowed yourself to be dragged around by older reapers, their voices blurring together in a droning buzz. Everything had gone by so quickly, and you struggled to keep up with it all.
If you were to say it bluntly, your first day felt like a fever dream.
But amidst the chaos, the tutorials, and the gifting of your first scythe, there was one thing that you remembered clearly.
“...Snow.”
Your mentor’s lecture halted at your voice, barely audible. They followed your gaze to a white-haired man, looking to be around the same age as you. Like a drowsy child, you lifted your finger and pointed at him, looking back to your mentor.
“He’s like snow.”
Their eyes softened by the tiniest bit, having seemingly realized that you were still disorientated. After all, in a sense, you had just been born.
“I suppose he is.” Putting a hand on your shoulder, they guided you away from the man. “Now, as I was saying…”
Their voice faded away into the background as the white-haired man noticed your gaze. He turned to look at you, his ruby-like eyes like blood speckles against the winter landscape. You stared at each other for only a few seconds before you turned to follow your mentor.
You quickly forgot the pretty stranger, but you would stay in his memories for quite a while before you’d cross paths again. In the darkness of the Underworld, you were like a lantern - radiating warmth and familiarity.
You were beautiful, like a flower in summer. That was, until he met you for the second time.
Swiftly and ruthlessly, holding true to your occupation as a reaper, you cut apart any premonitions he had had about you. When you were put against him to spar by your mentors, the drowsiness had worn off - instead replaced by insufferable audacity.
As your scythes clashed, sparks flying between the two of you and burning him in the process, your mouth just wouldn’t stop moving, stop talking. The innocently sleepy look on your face was replaced with a shit-eating grin as you blocked his attacks, trapping him in a frenzied dance.
“What’s wrong, boo?” you laughed, twirling your scythe to drive him back. “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already.”
Casper’s eyebrow twitched at the nickname; you wouldn’t stop calling him that ever since you learned his real name. He didn’t understand where it came from, but just the way you said it was enough to annoy him.
“Hardly,” he scoffed, his boots kicking up dust as they skidded against the ground. He was quick to lunge back at you, his movements precise as he swung his blade. “If anything, I’d wager that you’re the one tiring out.”
“Ha!” You ducked under his attack and sprung forward, Casper’s hair tickling at your face as you came nose to nose with him. Startled, Casper had no time to react as you slammed the end of your scythe’s staff into his chest.
Before he knew it, Casper’s back was against the ground, your boot on his chest, and your scythe at his neck.
Your breaths were heavy as you looked down on him, but your eyes glowed with triumphant victory. The fight may have been more exhausting than you’d like to admit, but the view you had was well worth the effort.
Beneath you, Casper struggled to catch his own breath, his chest heaving under the soles of your foot. His white hair splayed around him like a halo, and his face was tickled pink from the fight.
Even in defeat, he was beautiful.
You leaned forward, putting your weight on your knee. Casper grunted as you pressed harder on him. Just for the fun of it, you pressed your scythe’s blade against his chin and guided him to look up at you and your grin.
“I win,” you sang mockingly.
Casper groaned, letting his head fall against the floor. You laughed heartily, stepping off of him and instead extending your hand to him. Without a second thought, Casper took it, allowing you to pull him to his feet and dust him off.
“That’s what, victory number twenty-one?” you asked, stretching. “That means I’m in the lead now, Casp.”
“Whatever,” Casper scoffed, dusting off his chest where your foot had been. “I’m sure the score will even out in no time.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you squinted at him. Casper stuck his tongue out at you.
“I don’t know, what does it mean?”
You hit his chest playfully. Casper grunted, glaring at you from the corner of his eye.
That’s how it had always been, after all. You and Casper would go back and forth in this tantalizing dance, exchanging jabs and jokes at the same time.
To Casper, you were insufferable, but annoyingly capable. To you, Casper was way too serious and stuck up, yet had that charm about him that made you want to tease him at every possible opportunity.
But for many, many years, your relationship never went further than mere friends - if Casper even wanted to call you that.
━
The day Casper’s view of you changed was like a stormy sky - dark, yet light still managed to peek through.
You’d come back to headquarters with a solemn look upon your face. For someone who had just come back from a mission, you were oddly… clean. There wasn’t a trace of blood on your clothes, yet your eyes were dark, haunted. Even your scythe’s shine seemed dull.
For the reapers, to have someone normally so loud and full of life be reduced to this, was frightening. They’d grown used to your smile, your voice, your light. You parted crowds with your uncharacteristically serious aura; if there was anything a sensible reaper feared, it was the wrath of a joyous soul.
Immediately after turning in your report to headquarters, you disappeared from the public eye.
When Casper first heard the news, he had brushed it off. You were probably just having a bad day, he tried to assure himself. Maybe you’d finally realized the grimness that came with your profession. Maybe the soul you’d reaped was especially troublesome and gave you a run for your money.
Despite his attempts to make up explanations for your behavior, he couldn’t stop the worry from gnawing at his heart. It twisted in his chest like soul sickness, an ailment that he wasn’t used to nor did he understand. It even followed him into his work, plaguing his mind and distracting him as he reaped soul after soul.
He’d made haste to return home, knowing that this illness would only worsen if he stayed out.
The Underworld was always dark, but that day, the sky was pitch black. Eager to return to the comfort of his bed, he quickly made his way to one of the many apartment complexes in which reapers resided.
However, just before he opened the door to his room, his hand stilled at the sound of crying.
Now, sadness wasn’t an uncommon emotion in the Underworld. Ghosts, sinners, and demons alike wailed and screamed their woes into the night. Their cries were as common as the sound of rushing cars in a human city.
But not for reapers, especially in their home. Reapers, at their core, were cold, emotionless, and ruthless - they needed to be, in order to do their jobs properly. A reaper’s tears were rare, almost taboo.
The more Casper listened, he soon recognized a familiar voice among those sniffles: yours.
Could it be? He looked up to the rooftop, his hand wavering. His soul pulsed in his chest, warning him to ignore you and focus on himself. But his heart argued back.
Casper glanced once more at the doorknob to his room. Cursing himself, he heaved a sigh and walked away - moving towards the staircase leading to the rooftop.
As he emerged onto the rooftop, the first thing he noticed was how clear the sky was. Its crimson blanket was more like that of a rose’s rather than bloodstains, and if he squinted, he could perhaps delude himself into seeing a few stars.
Then came you.
Casper’s heart plummeted in his chest when he saw your form curled into itself. You sat at the edge of the rooftop, your knees pulled up to your chest and your face buried in your arms. Your back was to him, but Casper saw the way your shoulders trembled.
He tried to take a step towards you, tried to reach to you with his hand, but hesitated. What would he even say? What could he say? What could he do?
His thoughts halted when you took a deep, shuddered breath, your voice raw from cry.
“What do you want, Casper.”
Casper. Not Casp, not boo, not any of the annoying nicknames that you called him by.
“I…”
He stepped back, feeling fear for perhaps the first time in his life. For the first time, he was unsure of what to do.
You couldn’t see him, but you heard him walk away and descend the staircase. You laughed hollowly, wiping at your face with your hand.
“What was I even expecting…” you muttered bitterly, gripping at your own arms for support. “Why would he of all people…”
You shut your eyes tighter. Without the company of the sky and the city, you were left alone with your thoughts. Memories of what you had witnessed laughed in your mind, latching onto you like a parasite and refusing to let go.
You were never afraid of blood, nor of death, but today, just the thought of it made you nauseous.
Something soft nudged at your elbow. Blinking your eyes open, you warily looked to your side.
However, instead of seeing a person, you came face to face with a bright pink axolotl plushie.
You and the plushie stared at each other for a good minute, neither of you knowing what to make of the other. It wasn’t until you heard a familiar, exasperated sigh from behind the plushie that you realized what it was.
“Don’t just stare at him,” Casper mumbled, pushing the plushie against you. You blinked owlishly, before hesitantly taking the plushie into your arms.
Hugging it against your chest, you rested your chin on top of its head. The plushie was oddly warm, yet comforting. Casper sat beside you, silent and gazing up towards the sky. For a while, the two of you simply sat in this silence, with the only thing breaking it being your quiet sniffles.
“...She was just a kid,” you finally spoke, catching Casper’s attention and making him look at you. You, however, kept your gaze straight ahead to the city lines, refusing to meet his gaze. “She was just a little girl, and yet they… they…”
You hugged the plushie a little tighter.
“I just can’t understand how humans can be so cruel to each other.”
Casper’s gaze turned downcast. “That’s how they’ve always been. Life is cruel, even to the purest of souls.”
“It’s not fair.”
“Hardly anything is.”
“It shouldn’t have been her. It should’ve been that bastard that murdered her.”
“He’ll get what he deserves. Karma will catch up to him.”
“But what if it doesn’t? What if he gets let off?”
“He won’t.”
Unexpectedly, you let out a snort at Casper’s deadpanned voice - so assured and serious. Casper raised a brow, looking at you inquisitively.
“You know,” you said, raising your head. “You’re somehow really bad and really good at comforting people.”
“What?” Casper wrinkled his nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” you said softly. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. Actually, that’s one of the things I like about you.”
“That I’m apparently a bad comforter?”
“No, silly.” You leaned your head on the plushie again, only this time you were looking at your coworker. “Your seriousness. How you’re always so confident in yourself. How even if you don’t know what you’re doing, you still try.”
Red bloomed across Casper’s face like a flowering blossom, reaching from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze.
“It’s not fair when you start saying things like that,” he mumbled. You giggled a little, leaning onto his shoulder with his plushie still in your arms.
“I’m just being honest,” you hummed. “Or maybe I’m coping. I dunno.”
Casper chuckled, but made no move to push you off him. You closed your eyes. The turmoil in your heart was still there, of course, but with Casper against you, it eased up just a little.
“Seriously though, thank you,” you said. “For coming up here for me and, well, everything.”
“It was nothing,” Casper replied. “You were looking pretty pathetic, all depressed and all.”
You huffed. “Just admit you care about me, Casp. Is that so hard?”
Casper grumbled something unintelligible, before lifting his arm. You squeaked as he wrapped it around your shoulders, pulling you closer against him. With your head laid against his collarbone, you could feel every breath he took as well as the rapid beat of his heart.
“[Name],” he said quietly. “Remember the favor you promised me? For winning the race?”
“Mm… yeah. What about it?”
“I’d like to cash it in right now.”
“Oh lord,” you chuckled. “Alright, what do you want?”
“Whatever happens next, don’t tell anyone,” Casper whispered.
Your lips curled into a smile. “You know, Casp, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were about to do something weird.”
You couldn’t see him, but you knew he was rolling his eyes.
“Be quiet for a moment, will you?”
You grinned. “Ah, but that’s two favors, not-”
Casper shut you up with a soft kiss to your head. It was brief, so quick that for a second you almost thought you had dreamed it.
In your stunned silence, Casper spoke again.
“Forgive me if I’m being greedy, but I’ll ask for a third favor,” he said. “No matter what happens, promise me you won’t deal with it by yourself.”
His grip around you tightened.
“Please.”
You nuzzled closer into the crook of his neck.
“...I promise.”
reblogs w comments are appreciated !!
#a date with death#a date with death x reader#adwd#adwd x reader#adwd casper#adwd casper x reader#casper x reader#casper#x reader#y/n#reader insert#grim reaper#grim reaper x reader#archives 🏵️
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Ok coming off anon because I'm trying to conquer the constant social anxiety lmao (same person who sent you Longass Thoughts on Natlan AQ) - SO YEAH personally I like Ei's character but foaming a bit at the mouth because I feel like my favorite parts of her character (namely she was NOT ready to be the archon when makoto kicked the bucket, she's got that good ol' warrior-weapon mindset knocking around in there- having her actually confront the ugly truth of the consequences of her actions was such a missed opportunity. it would've been SO good to see her actually get confronted personally without any sugarcoating. i think her learning to be less of a shitty archon would've been so much better then)
also like. im sure there were a lot of ways to improve Inazuma's story but personally i thought it would've been cooler if kokomi was a bit more. morally grey lmao. like willing to do not-so-nice things to fight god because that's what they're doing. mortals attempting to defy the god that holds dominion over their land (bc the electro archon isn't really Watatsumi's god specifically!! bc uh lmao ei killed him lol)
but yea for real in natlan every "serious problem" was severely undercut by "actually it's all good now" like "kachina is totally fine after being chased by the abyss in the afterlife, she was protected by the wayob so it's all good and she's also mentally ok" and it's like what. what are you talking about.
AND THE ARchON thing i feel like im the only one who has a gripe. tbf the story is not done yet BUT MY QUESTION IS CELESTIA ALLOWED A HUMAN (MULTIPLE EVEN) TO ASCend to the divine throne???? Like what??? IT feels like it runs counter to everything-
and like uh feels like we got really really far away from like. when you talk about the archon war in liyue it was a literal bloodbath. sacrifices upon sacrifices were made, the modern day liyue was built upon the corpses of friend and foe alike because there was no other choice. you couldn't abstain, you would die.
but in natlan???? no gods??? what???? im just losing it more than a bit over here that natlan is trying simultaneously to be a grim land of constant war but also sunshine friendship and rainbows.
at this point im prepared to be disappointed and just crossing my fingers the good writing comes back for snezhnaya's AQ bc if they fuck up snezhnaya i will literally never forgive them
Its all good man, youre so welcome to debate and talk off anon, we may disagree but never hate.
Im putting all my ramblings under cut since its gonna be as equally long and spoilery hdjsnsn
About Ei
I completely forgot about how Ei was originally a kagemusha, a weapon for her sister, her sister did all the archon work while Ei simply stood by her side. Its makes perfect sense that after the death of her sister, she would make very bad not thought out decisions and because she is an archon now, those bad decisions has really really bad aftermaths.
I personally do not have any gripes about her being basically clueless about the outside world. Grief manifests in different ways and locking yourself away and justifying it as a twisted way to gain enlightment of eternity the way your sister did, it can make sense. It is a consequence!! She is clueless of how to be an archon and what is going on in her nation, her SQ could have been used to show her trying to understand and emphatize with her people to be a better archon. NOT A REASON TO MAKE HER AN uwu sad defenseless waifu cant cook and doesnt know anything. Brother she fucking killed people and almost destroyed her nation.
About Kokomi
I like the idea of morally grey kokomi actually. It makes alot of sense. Kokomi and the watatsumi people might have some vishap descendance but they are still humans, even less so with visions. Theyre also lacking the supplies and expertise needed to continue a war with an entire nation and its archon. It would make sense that she would accept the fatuis help since they share the sentiment of 'getting to inazuma and its archon'.
But it was shown she wasnt even aware who the anonymous donor is, hell she wasnt aware people where using delusions until people starts dying. And for a girl who wrote an entire guide book with 100 different alternate plans, HOW DO YOU NOT SEE THIS COMING...............
About Natlan's system
Yeah they really brushed off the dying part and potentially being stuck in genshin limbo if you dont get out in time too casually. The tiny child you retrieved from limbo also is... very chill and not mentally scarred or anything, she wasnt putting up a brave face, she was simply unaffected?????? One on kachina's voiceovers is gonna talk about her death but im not friendship 4 with her yet. I hope it explains SOMETHING.
Yeah the first time i heard that the archon was human and has been replaced multiple times had me gawking too, i can excuse that Celestia has been strangely inactive FOR NOW.
I wanted to bring up how the hydro archon throne being broken and Neuvi regaining his sovernity didnt even call Celestia to action but GUESS WHAT??? I DONT KNOW IF NATLAN HAPPENED BEFORE OR AFTER FONTAINE BECAUSE THEY DECIDE TO LOWER THE REQUIREMENTS TO DO NATLAN AQ!!!!!!! But well if it happened after (since Neuvis end dialogue told us to go to Natlan next), well... Celestia isnt called either so theyve just been inactive for 500 years of Natlans weird system ig.
About the """Nation of War"""
Yeah man. Sacrifices and war was dealt better in liyue. Same as Natlan, it is a nation built of war. There was war in the past, sacrifices were made to built the liyue we know now. But the sacrifices in liyue was not brushed off or belittled, those sacrifices had meaning and the people of liyue hold very high regards for the fallen. In Natlan? Its treated like some sort of sick hunger games event, they made war into entertainment.
Oh but they need the tournaments to keep the natlan fire alive. THEN RUN A SEPERATE FUCKING TOURNEY?????? MAKE EVERYONE WHO HAS AN ANCIENT NAME HAVE PROPER TRAINING AND GO TO WAR IN ARMIES PROPER???? THIS SHIT DOESNT NEED TO BE ENTERTAINMENT AND YET YOU DID. Maybe the flames are small BECAUSE YOU PICK ONLY 5 PEOPLE EVERYTIME WHEN THERES LITERALLY NO REASON VETERANS LIKE KINICH AND MUALANI TO SIT IT OUT JUST BECAUSE THEY LOST.
Oh but the ode of resurrection only works on limited people THEN SEND OUT THE BEST PEOPLE THEN???????? MUALANI, A 3 TIMES VETERAN, LOST TO KACHINA. CLEARLY THE TOURNEYS ARENT RELIABLE TO PICK WHO TO SEND.
While i can understand that while Liyue is past war and Natlan is still in war, this is... not how people in war act. The entertainment the happiness the hospitality. Its not efforts to keep morale high its literally just... happy people, sometimes they get attacked by abyss monsters yeah cool but otherwise theyre completely happy just living like that. Thats why the Nation of War thing isnt working at all, these people are not how people STILL IN WAR act. Theres no anxiety no uncertainty no worry at all, not even a smidget. These people live like happy prospering people.
You know what happened to people tryna be happy prospering people while still in war in liyue? Havria.
I hope they bring back the high AR requirement for snezhnaya so snezhnaya can be chronologically correct. I hope they take snezhnaya seriously. I hope Natlan atleast wont pull an inazuma and tripped at the very end
NONE OF THAT POWER OF FRIENDSHIP BS EITHER I didnt believe it when mualani fucking knocked it over our heads over and over and over again and its not gonna work now.
#maybe twitter is right and i should turn my brain off and consume product#the only time i was tuning in was when the capitano vs mavuika fight happened#i hope the fatui plot is alot stromger than the actual nation plot actually#lyssten to my rambles#spoilers#genshin spoilers
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Forgotten But Not Forgiven
(Inspired by a fic I read, I can't remember the name but if anyone finds it lmk so I can tag/credit the author)
You had been around for a long time, longer than most of the surviving gods in this era of the world.
You were not, however, credited for your deed towards humanity and its successes.
You had risen to power around the same time as Morax. It would be safe to say he would not have risen so high without you.
While you had only been a minor god, your intelligence had proven to be quite useful in the era of strength you were born into. An era of buff toddlers, you used to say.
Using this intelligence, you had decided to aid the up and coming Morax in the Archon War, as well as before it. You gained many followers due to this, as well as territory.
You did your best to protect your people, but you could only do so much against the raw strength of the power hungry deities wanting not only your lands, but your intellect as well.
Morax and his precious Guizhong had pressured you into a contract. forcing you to abandon your people to give them the upper hand in the war. You had agreed on the terms that your people would remain unharmed and safe.
This was not the end result that occurred, much to your sadness. You had been tricked by the infamous duo of the earth.
Prior to this deception, you had been close to the two gods, to the point where you could have said they were your friends and confidants. You hadn't thought of the possibility that they were using you for your power. You had thought that they were truly as loyal to you as you were to them.
You wanted to kill them both right then and there, tear them to shreds where they sat, watch as their confident body posture wilted as they passed on to the next plane of existence. But, you were not only bound by contract to see them through to a throne of the Seven, you were craving a deeper revenge, one much crueler than a quick and merciful death.
Over time, your anger concentrated onto one of the two, Morax. You had found out that Guizhong had not known that your people would be sacrificed to win the war. Once she had found out, it was too late.
Some time before her death, she had tried to reconcile with you. However, you were not so keen as to forgive her so easily. So, you made a deal, a contract.
She had to help you retrieve your lands back, as well as any descendants of what were once your people. She had agreed, desperate to regain your friendship.
The hard part was sneaking around behind the now Rex Lapis' back, as he seemed to always want the dust goddesses presence. Lucky for the two of you, he had the pressing matter of sorting out his new found responsibilities. Not so lucky for the two of you, he wanted Guizhong's help to do so.
This sparked a fight between them, pushing their already strained relationship further and further. This would be one of the last times they would talk.
Guizhong seemed to drift farther away from Morax as she drew closer to you once more.
You had to admit, you had missed her during your time apart. Her quick wit could rival your own on some topics, and her compassion was refreshing in the world of war and violence.
After regaining your land, and setting up ways for your people to prosper, you had continued to draw closer to the lady of dust.
That's why, when she perished fighting for the lord of geo, you felt as if you had once again been stabbed in the back. Deep down, you knew she had not meant to leave you all alone again, but you could not process that in your grief.
But this time, you would not publicly display your anger. No, this time would be different.
This time, you would not be forgotten and thrown away like useless trash.
After all, He was the reason she was gone. He was the reason your people had been so brutally wiped out and your lands had been taken from you.
He would pay for what he had done.
(I might work on a part two or more, lmk if I should!)
#genshin impact#genshin fanfic#genshin impact guizhong#genshin impact zhongli#zhongli#genshin zhongli#god reader#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin x male reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x gn reader#gn reader#gender neutral reader#x reader#male reader
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Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 13]
What I love the most about Atcham's introduction is the insane amounts of blood in this scene. 😊
My personal interpretation of what's happening in this scene is as follows: Julith arrived in Brakmar. Asked around where to find Atcham. Learned he's kinda in the middle of a huge fight. Went to the location of the fight and found this. Voilà.
Both the walls, and the people involved in this fight, have had the shit scratched out of them.
This implies so much about their relationship, as does the lore article on Atcham (though, as I've said, lore articles are something that gets retconned pronto, the second Ankama has a different idea.)
Ankama will never elaborate on this or flesh this out but they're friends. to me <3
Or on friendly terms, I suppose. She was his commander in the war, after all.
There is so much to unpack in this fucking image, besides the fact that all of them are obviously freshly shaved, and many of them are missing chunks of clothes. Ok, so:
Somehow he stuffed a guy into a barrel.
There's a gray iop here. I guess the insane custom colors for mmo characters are real and true.
There's a broken hammer on top of this guy's head.... bro...
Someone's hair has been pinned to the wall.
He shaved this guy's back, made him eat his own underwear, and stabbed him through the nose.
This guy, whose back has also been shaven clean, seems to be impaled through the spike, which is exiting through his spine. Bro...
If they didn't have a good relationship, he would try and kill her for this joke.
Atcham is a fancy smoker.
More importantly, he's a type of guy who smokes after pleasurable activity (there is no way that, considering the level of insanity here, that he does not derive exquisite pleasure from violence.)
If they had a deep, emotional friendship, this would not be his reaction to learning she is alive. When I say that Julith and Atcham are friends, I mean that I like to imagine they would celebrate and drink together, after killing people.
She put Kerubim's hair between her tits for transportation.
The context of Atcham:
Knowing, for 7 years, where Kerubim lived, but probably deciding not to do anything because of baby Joris
Trying to, without success, locate and beat the shit out of Kerubim now that Joris is 10
both make this very funny.
He's so sad... </3
As I've said, there is absolutely no way Atcham doesn't know Joris. He's Kerubim's most dedicated and beloved stalker. He knew where they lived for 7 years.
Does she really think Joris will ever forgive her for this? Does she actually think he'll go along, out of anything but fear?
He's so goddamn cute.
As I've said, Julith is a piece of shit of a human being. lmao.
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Can we talk about fic pet peeves?
I want to make it clear that this is not about a specific fic or author, but just some things I've seen in this fandom over the years. I've been reading Dramione for almost 15 years now and there are so many things that authors include that have become a pet peeve of mine.
This is not just exclusive to Dramione though, I have dabbled in other HP pairs before (e.g., Hansy, Theomione) and other fandoms (Gossip Girl, Elementary), and I have seen the same things there. I also have definitely come across some of these in published romance novels.
But this is a Dramione blog, so I will talk about them in context to this pairing.
Men being the cause of the breakup. So many times it's always Draco who messes up or says something horrible or doesn't "do enough". He is the one who has to repent and beg for forgiveness. Very rarely do you see a fic where Hermione is the one who is wrong and needs to apologize. And even when she does, it's always Draco who cuts her off and spins it around and makes him the bad guy who caused Hermione to be that way, and she doesn't actually have to work hard for forgiveness. Just a simple "I'm sorry" and he then says "no no, it's me....".
Having more than one conflict in a fic. Halfway through a story, the pair will have a major fight, which causes them to part. You then have a few chapters of them reflecting and then talking and making up. Then towards the last quarter of the fic, something comes up again and the characters react in the same way as before. You would think that they would have learned from the previous argument and not jump to conclusions and actually communicate. It feels like we are taking one step forward and 5 steps back. Why was this necessary? Why show your characters acting this way and show that they did not grow as people?
Focusing on so many other characters. I get that ensemble fics are a thing, but you need to say that in the beginning. You cannot just tag Draco and Hermione as the pairing, and then 5 chapters in, half the page is Harry and Ginny dialogue with no mention of the main pair. Let people know these things.
Speaking of other pairs, you need to tell your readers if you are gonna include scenes of Draco or Hermione having sex with other people. You need to tag these side pairings and say that we will read explicit scenes with Ron or Astoria or someone. We came for Draco and Hermione smut, not Ron or Pansy or Astoria or Viktor.
Since we are on the topic of tags. TAG ALL YOUR WARNINGS! So many times authors don't tag Rape/Non-Con!! Tag pregnancy difficulties, tag character deaths, tag the non-Dramione endings, tag violence, tag blood and gore, and tag any and all kink. Just tag things, it doesn't spoil the fic for people. Letting people know about things that may trigger them is not spoiling, it's human decency to let us know what your fic will entail.
Hermione's parents not being in the fic. Now I know Hermione sent her parents away before the war, but so many times you read about her not going back for them, not being able to retrieve their memory, then not wanting to be part of her life because of what she did. I understand it if this is a part of the fic, Hermione essentially grieving the loss of her parents. But what I have noticed is that most times author just have a throwaway line that her parents are not in her life, and it seems like it's not a big deal. Like oh well Hermione's mother is non-existent, but hey she has Molly now! Hermione's parents are not important in the HP canon, and it seems like authors feel the same, which is sad.
Molly being the matriarch of the trio. In canon, she kind of is because the stories are from Harry's perspective and he encounters the Weasleys and ingrains himself with their family, but she is always portrayed this way in fanfiction as well. As I mentioned in the previous comment, Hermione's mother isn't there so authors make Molly the mother figure for her, which is fine but authors make their relationship closer than what canon implies. But Draco also has a mother and most times we see Molly in the story more than Narcissa. I would assume that Narcissa would be the matriarch of that fic rather than Molly in a Dramione.
Harry and Ron being too involved in Hermione's life. Again this is fine, but it does get annoying to see fic after fic of them butting too much into her life and getting angry when she makes her own decisions. Friends should not try to control you, but guide and offer advice and be there if you fail.
Hermione not having friends outside of Harry and the Weasleys. I would assume that as they got older and got into the real world, they would meet new people and make new friends, not only stick to the same people they knew since they were 11. The Wizarding World is small, but we do have so many other characters in canon that you can use, it's okay to have Hermione become best friends with Padma, Luna, or Dean. You can have Draco even becoming bffs with Neville. He too is always stuck with Blaise or Theo and Pansy. Sometimes he doesn't have any friends and the fic only shows Hermione's friends.
If a fic starts off with Draco and Hermione having a relationship with another person, the breakup is always a bad one. People in real life have amicable breakups with their partners, it doesn't always have screaming and yelling and hatred. Most times this is used as a catalyst for the drama in a fic, but I would like to read a fic where Ron stays friends with Hermione and listens to her when she is talking about Draco, him offering advice or teasing her about a crush. It would be nice to see Astoria and Draco doing the same. And I say this as a huge "Ron Weasley Bashing" fan.
Hermione not knowing about fashion and makeup and having to rely on Ginny for help to get read for a date. Nowhere in canon does it claim that Hermione is like this, so how is this a common trope? I think this feeds into the "Hermione is not like other girls trope".
Hermione being the Brightest Witch of Her Age. In canon this is not a real thing, it is not an honorific that was bestowed on her by some sort of higher authority. It was something Harry and Remus said, it was their opinion. So having multiple people in a fic say this as though it is a proper title given to her annoys me honestly. Because when this happens, the fic always tends to have her being the only one who can solve the problem. So many people came before her and weren't able to do this particular thing, but Hermione somehow accomplished it without much help, with just a few books and at the ripe age of 24! These types of fics tend to have their characters fresh out of Hogwarts, so they are young but are able to become Heads of Departments! Can you imagine the 30/40-something-year-old who has been working for over 10/15 years in the ministry thinking it's only a matter of time before they get promoted to senior status, then suddenly this 20-year-old who just finished school walks in and gets the highest position without any experience or further education? I'd riot!
Draco not having a job. Many times fics have Hermione working hard in her career, but Draco is "in the family business" or "does investments". What does this mean???
Hermione being a virgin while Draco is the sex god. This trope feels sexist.
Hermione not doing anything muggle. This is similar to Harry in canon. It feels like Hermione forgot where she came from, and she doesn't care to go into the muggle world, or take Draco there.
Draco being obsessed with Hermione. Sometimes fics make his whole life revolve around her.
Luna being seen as weird. After all she has done and all she has shown to people that she is a smart, brave, very important friend to the trio, we still have scenes where Hermione and her friends make fun of Luna and her creatures. That is just rude.
This is all I can think of at the moment. I know this is a lot, but I kind of stopped reading fics for a while and as I managed Dramioneasks during this time, I would see new fics and just add them to my bookmarks. So I am now catching up on those fics and I feel like I am reading the same stuff over and over. Same tropes, same themes, same personalities, which is not a bad thing but it does give rise to pet peeves and thinking about older fics and how things haven't really changed over the last 15 years or so of my dramione life.
Again this is not from one fic or one author, but multiple fics and authors I have read over the years. Some of the fics I think are 5 stars have these pet peeves in them.
Do you guys agree with these? Do you have more to add? Leave them in the comments or send us a message. I would love to discuss and rant with you!
-Lisa
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Cole Conversation: Warm Approval
Tell Me How You Think
Cole Masterpost
PC: Can you explain how your mind works?
Cole: Yes.
1 - Dialogue options:
General: Explain the helping process. [2]
General: You think about our friends. [3]
General: What do you see in me? [4]
General: It seems a sad way to be. [4]
General: Goodbye. [5]
1 - General: Explain the helping process. PC: Walk me through the way you help someone. Cole: I start by listening. I hear hurt, feel it fretting. Some you can solve by giving something. Food, a blanket, sleep. Some are intangible, terrible tangles that catch on a crack. Fixed, festering, and the person makes a pearl of pain. I shake it loose. No pearl, no pain. They can hope, they can heal. [back to 1]
2 - General: You think about our friends. PC: Sometimes you say things that relate to other members of the Inquisition. Cole: They remember me. Their eyes stick, some more. They want me to be.
Cole made more human Cole: Varric lied. His bow broke. It was a trick trigger, a trap, but it helped like the truth. Solas isn’t afraid of me. He sees spirits and understands. But he’s sad underneath. [back to 1]
Cole made more spirit Cole: Varric, a stone reaching for brightness, spinning stories of color he can’t see. Calling me “kid,” calming. Solas, bright and sad, reminding me how to fly free, forgive, forgiven, forget. [back to 1]
Cole’s personal quest not completed Cole: Varric is quiet inside. He pulls me more to here. Makes me a person. Calls me “kid.” A friend. Solas, bright and sad, observes and accepts. Spirit self, seeing the soul, Solas, but somehow sorrows. [back to 1]
3 - General: What do you see in me? PC: What do you sense when you focus on me? Cole: You’re too bright. Like counting birds against the sun. The mark makes you more. But past it…
Cole (mage PC): You reach across, mindful, meaning. You pull it through to this side, make it real here. Cole (Qunari PC): Old blood, deeper, passion pounding pulsing, unchecked. Raw rage, but only an option. Cole (dwarf PC): The stone, still there, silent and reaching up for the blood that walks. No dreams with the cord cut. You sell it. Cole (Dalish PC): Pulled, blood that is not blood, a tiny trace of time. Lips struggling to shape language your parents lived. Cole (human PC): War and weariness, blood and battle. Life learning to lead, clash, kill.
Cole: And past that, the weight of all on you. All the hopes you carry, fears you fight. You are theirs. It must be very hard. I hope I help. [back to 1]
4 - General: It seems a sad way to be. PC: It must be sad, feeling everyone’s pain all the time. Cole: Why? PC: Isn’t it? Cole: No. I help. I find wounds and heal them. I salve, soothe, save. I see pain and make it better. How could I not be happy? [back to 1]
5 - General: Goodbye. PC: I’ll talk to you later.
#dragon age#dragon age inquisition#dai#dragon age transcripts#dai transcripts#dragon age dialogue#dai dialogue#long post#cole
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Happier
The title is from the song "Happier" by Marshmello Bastille. The lyrics "I want you to be happier. Know that means I'll have to leave." spoke to me. Please read the wonderful @tapakah0's comic and watch the amazing animatic they did that this work is inspired from. (Please forgive any out of characterness or grammar mistakes, I had no Beta Reader and wrote this in one sitting.) Thank you so much to Tapakah for drawing this amazing comic and answering my questions, as well as allowing me to write a fic for their work.
Oh, obligatory warning. This is angst. There is major character death, violence, and sadness. It ends unhappy (for now.) Proceed with caution and make informed decisions!
Click here for a link to the Archive Of Our Own version!
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Today's a big day.
Arguably, every day that they go out to fight the Krang that have infiltrated every nook, cranny, and crevice of their lives all those years ago is a big day. Raphael can't help but feel the bone-crushing load of responsibility that weighs down on his shoulders as he watches the hubbub of activity from the head. As he scans the faces of each person—human and mutant alike—with his one good eye, Raph feels as if his shell might just crack. He's not naive. There's nothing normal about this. He knows that they won't be able to save everyone, there'll be casualties. Their days are numbered, and the world just isn't fair in that way. The Krang aren't merciful. It could be anyone that they lose, there's no off-limits, and there's no way of predicting what shade of grief they'll experience today. As more and more days go by, Raphael can't shake the feeling that every victory they have is just a pyrrhic one. Even still, they fight. Everyone currently in the shelter of this hangar does. They all hope for a better future, a chance to reclaim all that they lost and there's not a single person who isn't willing to sacrifice it all. There's nothing more important than to ensure the success of this battle they're about to fight in the world war they've been waging against the invading advanced alien species.
He doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't want to think about all the people that they've lost. It sends ripples of agony tearing through his chest, a physical ache that he can feel permeate even his plastron. It's a horrid fact that death is actually the most merciful thing the Krang can gift them with. They've lost countless others to infection, the result of that blasted plague yielding pink, fleshy atrocities, the host twisted and manipulated into a mere shell of their former self. They cannot be qualified as a person by then, bestial creatures hellbent on destruction and controlled by the very violators that infected them to begin with. It's a fate worse than death, the loss of will and self; they move only to the will impressed upon them. Raph's arms cross even tighter across his broad chest, his teeth grinding. The cold metal of his right arm reminds him that he's gotten off lucky. His fingers dig into his elbows as he stands, a grim and foreboding figure against the thoughts that plague his mind. He knows that he's gotten lost under the pressure of his thoughts when he stirs only at a warm touch against his forearm.
"Raph? You okay, big man?"
The sound of Leo's voice snaps him out of it further. His tone is bright, but Raph can hear the undertow of concern. Raph tears his gaze away from the milling crowd and looks down, meeting his brother's gaze. Even though it's been years, Raphael still can't help the flare of pride every time he sees Leo and how much he's changed over the years. It seems like yesterday that Raphael had to scold, nag, and practically plead with his younger sibling to get him to take things seriously. He knows that being the leader was a pressure that Leonardo never wanted, but once he's received it, he'd learned the gravity of the role. Sometimes, Raph thinks Leonardo has outgrown him, just the way that Raphael thought he would. A lesser turtle would have broken under the pressure, but Leonardo is as strong as he is stubborn. He stands against the test of time and loss, brave and unrelenting. He now leads with a certainty that has saved them on numerous occasions, and Raphael truly couldn't be prouder of how much he's grown into the role given to him.
Leonardo must see the way Raph's eyes soften because the sharp grin on his face loses its charming edge, too. Raph's chest feels tight as if his heart would burst out from the confines of his plastron. It's an entirely different reason than just a few seconds before when the grim reality was moments from overwhelming him.
He really is so proud.
"Yeah, Raph's okay. Just thinking." Raphael flashes his snaggletooth in a wide smile, and Leo mirrors it.
Normally, the conversation would end there. Raph wasn't the best at expressing his feelings, and Leonardo was even less so. He doesn't have the same connection to Leo that Donatello seems to have—they are self-proclaimed twins after all. They communicate almost solely on looks and gestures as if that's enough to convey exactly what it is they want to say. They leave nearly everything unsaid, but that's simply not something Raph can do. It's easy to communicate with Mikey; he's the best of them all. Still, there's so much that he wants to say to Leo, but it's almost time to leave. Raph can tell by the way things are quieting, the chaos of getting prepared sinking into the hum of calm and determined poise. Even with it all, Raphael is gripped with the unshakable feeling that he simply needs to get out. He doesn't know what it is, but it's an undeniable urge.
Leonardo's about to turn away. Despite the eternity that Raph feels like he just went through in his struggle to find the right words, mere seconds have passed. Raph decides that he doesn't need pretty words like Donnie, or the innate ability Mikey has to say exactly what a turtle needs to hear. Leo will understand. He knows Raph. He knows that they're connected and understand each other in a way that only those who have and are responsible for the lives of many can.
"Leo," he starts, and Raph almost winces at how serious he sounds. Leo blinks at the sudden change in tone, but he doesn't falter. His easy grin changes almost immediately, and the fact he no longer tries to deflect serious conversation with humor when it comes to Raphael brings yet another wave of pride. Leo stands before him, waiting. He's listening.
Raphael nods to himself, lifting a hand to place on Leonardo's shoulder. He squeezes and shakes Leo lightly, a reassuring gesture. His snaggletooth makes even more of an appearance as he smiles wide. "Raph is so proud. You've kicked ass and grown. You don't need lil ol' me anymore. I could not be more proud."
Surprise flits through Leo's eyes before it's replaced by something else. His gaze is piercing, eyes dark and almost unreadable. Almost. In another time, Raph wouldn't have ever thought that he'd know Leo so well. The feeling is potent, and Raph can feel it, too. It charges him with strength, and a new lightness finds his spirit. The iron trust that Leo has in him shines in his eyes, and Raphael had almost felt too small to withstand the weight of it once. Now, it gives Raph the strength he needs to continue on.
It seems to have been the right time to say what he was thinking.
Leonardo's shoulders square, and he seems to grow even taller before Raphael's very eyes. "Don't kid yourself, Raph," Leo chuckles. He slaps at Raph's arm lightly with a pat. "I'll always need my big brother." They both laugh at that, the serious mood broken up as their chortles sound in the room. With that, Leonardo turns away, moving his attention to something else that they need to be as prepared as they ever will be. Raph doesn't really concern himself with that anymore unless Leo needs him to. Bolstered by warmth, Raph knows that he needs to make his own rounds. He walks through the crowd, and people part way for him to accommodate his bulk. He stops and talks to a few, bumps elbows with April, and high-fives Cassandra. Somewhere along the line, Cass and Raph had grown closer. Undoubtedly, it was because of a certain young individual they spent any spare moment they had with.
Somewhere in the middle of that, Raph finds who he's looking for. "Donnie," he calls, and his brother whirls towards him. Donnie's battle shell remains engaged in what seems to be furious typing, his purple holographs buzzing with ninpo. A fond smile lights up Raph's face—even in the midst of preparing for a big battle, Donatello is always moving. His mind is always working, and Raphael wonders if it's because it's so loud that Donnie rarely ever sleeps.
"Raph," Donnie greets, the lenses of his red and blue goggles whirring as they adjust to parse Raph. Then, Donnie groans. "What did Nardo break now? I swear, I told him I'm gonna kick his shell if he breaks one more damn thing, so he decides to send you to break the news? I'm gonna find him-" He starts to grouse, and Raphael is sent into a frenzy trying to placate him.
"No, no! Leo didn't break nothin'. Just... Raph just wanted to talk to you. Before everything." Raphael shrugs, his hands outstretched and spread to show his surrender. Donatello squints and it's obvious that he's suspicious. His drawn-on eyebrows arch, and Raphael can't help but laugh again. There is no doubt that Donatello is the most expressive one of them all. His eyebrows only add to his charm, and over the years, he's grown into his skin even more. Raph thinks that Donatello is also the one to hide his emotions the most, choosing pragmatism and logic over the pursuit of emotions at all times. It's also why Raph thinks that Donatello's mask—the persona that he adopts—rivals Leo's.
In truth, Donatello is generous. He's a genius, a maniacal scientist, and Raph knows that his mind works in ways unmatched. He knows that it's because Donnie is Donnie that they've been able to maintain a semblance of a life. Raph knows that Donnie works himself to the bone for them, and fixes every problem that crops up that others don't even know where to begin. The thing with Donnie is that he's so, so generous, with a heart that's about as soft as his shell. Raph knows that he doesn't want anyone to know. Donnie gives them his all every day, every minute, and every second. It's enough for Raph to worry that one day, Donnie will give, give, and give until there's nothing left. Raphael has always silenced that voice, knowing that it comes from a selfish part of Raph that wants his brothers cared for, apocalypse be damned. Now, though. Raph thinks he can convey what he wants to say to Donnie at least once in a way that he can't be misunderstood.
Taking Donnie's suspicious look in stride, Raphael reaches up to rap his knuckles against his metal prosthetic. It makes a sharp sound each time he does, and Raph grins in spite of it all. "I know I've said this already, but Dontron... Thanks again. I know that this-" Raph gestures to all around him, and then again to his arm, "-couldn't have happened without you." Donnie seems to have been caught off guard by the sincere way Raphael is saying what he wants to say. Still, he recovers fast.
"Why, of course. I'm glad you realize that you need my brilliant mind and recognize that this is all in courtesy of the great Donatello, a.k.a. moi." Donatello's eyes are half-moons, his goggles retreating to the top of his head. His grin is smug, but Raph can see the genuine curls of delight that cause the corners of the said grin to twitch into an almost smile. Donatello's arms outstretch to gesture to the entire facility, and the simple movement makes him look bigger than life. It's grandiose, enthusiastic, and just as bombastic as Raph would have expected Donnie to respond with. Raphael doesn't bother stopping the laugh that escapes him, and his deep laughter seems to infect Donnie, too. He laughs with Raph, a small rumble mixed with the beginnings of a chirp. After the laughter dies down, Donnie gives Raph another grin. "Okay, now that you have me sufficiently buttered up, what did you break?" Donnie asks, his voice teasing. Raphael recognizes it for the jest that it is, and he snorts again.
"I keep tellin' you, nothing's broke!" Raphael's hands lift and they settle on Donatello's shoulders. He can't be too serious. Donnie will be too busy trying to make light of the words leaving Raph's mouth in his mind to truly understand what he's trying to say. Raph smiles. "Just tryna say thank you, Dontron. You're right, we need your brilliant mind, but that's not all we need," he gently reminds the younger turtle. "You're our Donnie, too. Our brother. Raph just wants to make sure that you take care of yourself, too. Less coffee, more sleep." He shrugs, his voice light. For a moment or two, Donnie says nothing. His eyes are wide, fixated on Raph's. It's enough to make Raph nervous and wonder if he's gone too far, but his fears are dispelled when Donnie's shoulders slump slightly under his hands.
"When did you turn all Dr. Feelings? Isn't that Michelangelo's job?" Donnie jokes and makes a face, but his voice shakes just enough to convey that he understands what Raph is trying to say. Raphael chooses to act mock-offended, going along with the bit.
"Hey! Are you saying Raph can't say that he loves his brothers?" He huffs, and Donnie rolls his eyes. The heavier moment dispels and Donnie's attention is suddenly needed elsewhere, judging by the beeping that he can hear. Raph lets his hands fall from Donatello's shoulders.
"Duty calls. No rest for the wicked." Donnie sighs, somehow dramatic and sincere at the same time. His eyes are closed as he says this, but he peeks out at Raph. That's enough for Raph to spot the gentle glint in his brother's eye. "But..." he intones, combining the sound with another sigh. "I'll try." Raph grins.
"All I ask." He nods, and Donnie hums. He's reorienting himself, Raph has heard that noncommital hum too many times to not know. "I'll see you later, Dontron," Raphael says before he loses Donnie in a string of mutters, and Donnie gives him a wave as his goggles return to his face, already focusing on what had pulled him away.
Raphael keeps walking. He dodges children, people, and mutants. It's not easy with his build, and he sticks out like a sore thumb from size alone. Still, it's not enough to deter him from finding Mikey. Mikey's as easy to spot as it is to spot Raph in a crowd. His powerful ninpo rolls off him in waves, mysticality crackling under his fingertips. It surges through his entire body, and it's almost impossible to miss. He's often haloed in a golden light, something that's as warm as his spirit. Over the years, Mikey has only grown more powerful, but with his abilities, so does his wisdom. Mikey is no longer just the goofy turtle he'd been before; he is wise beyond his years, capable, and strong. He's the inspiration within the Resistance, the ever-burning beacon of hope. Raph has leaned on him for support more times than he can count, and Mikey has more than once single-handedly born the grief of hundreds after a bad battle. Many turn to him for guidance now.
Raph finds him in the exact position that he thought he would.
"Mikey," he says, trying to hold back laughter. At Raph's voice, Mikey looks up, expression bright.
"Raph! Hiya, bud. Apparently, my hair's getting too long!" He says, voice full of cheer and contentment. He's surrounded by an ethereal glow, and floating. His legs are crossed, and there is a gaggle of giggling children running around him. They dip below him from where he's floating, dodging each other while they play tag. The innocence of the view seems to heal all the old wounds and the scars littering Raph's heart momentarily. There's another taller child with her fingers in Mikey's hair, and upon closer inspection, she's braiding it. Mikey already has multiple little braids here and there in his hair, and it's a sight that makes Raph's caught laughter burst free.
"Really? Raph thinks it's fine." He tilts his head as he inspects Mikey, and he's sure his expression mirrors Mikey's. Raph edges closer before he sits down with a mighty groan, and maybe a bit of a heavier thud than he'd wanted. The children crow as the ground shakes a little when Raph sits down, and he's swarmed. They crawl all over his legs, chattering excitedly, and Raph sits and listens. He and Michelangelo both do. They bask in the simple joy that the children exude. They ask him all kinds of questions, and Raph answers the best he can. They tell him nonsensical stories, about everything Mikey has been telling them, stories of times before the Krang. It's a bittersweet experience, knowing that there's a chance that these children will never experience what they had. Still, the tenacity and hope these children hold to someday seeing all that they've been told of is infectious. It reminds him of something their dad has always told them.
Hope is a ninja's greatest weapon.
Eventually, the children go off to Mikey's gentle shooing, as if he knows that Raphael has something important to say. The bond they share is close to the silent bond that Leonardo and Donatello share. In the past, Raphael and Michelangelo had clashed on more than one occasion. Raph knows he could be overprotective. He had been, back then, and Raph is old enough to admit that. Michelangelo had been the youngest, and even though he still is, Raphael trusts that he can protect himself now. That he can protect all of them. More than anything, Raph trusts Mikey with the Resistance. He trusts Mikey with their family. It's an all-encompassing trust that's hard to explain, even if he tries. After the Krang, after they'd been forced to grow, their relationship had changed forever. It was for the better. They'd grown closer, and the need for verbal communication has nearly faded from existence. Michelangelo can read Raph like a book. Even now, he waits for Raphael to collect his thoughts because he knows that his older brother has something to say. Raphael is grateful for it, just like all the times before.
After another few moments of silence, Raph wordlessly leans. He leans enough that their shoulders touch. He can feel the warmth spilling from Michelangelo, and it's comforting in ways that he can't describe. Mikey hums, but he doesn't say anything. His short braids are slowly coming loose, and they both stare from the sidelines as their people gather the rowdy children, scooping them up for hugs and kisses. Raph swallows. The heavy feeling from earlier returns. How many of these children would end up orphaned after this fight? He ignores a palpable thought about Casey Jr. that flits through his mind as fast as lightning. He doesn't want to think about that now. Raphael knows that Mikey can sense the dread that is approaching, the muted fear and grief that is already threatening his horizon. In front of Mikey, Raphael doesn't really find the need to appear as strong as he feels he needs to be around everyone else. He knows Mikey understands.
"Mikey," he starts, his voice suddenly hoarse around the lump in his throat. Michelangelo doesn't respond, just nudges his shoulder into Raph's harder. Raph takes a deep breath. He needs to say what he actually has on his mind, or he might burst. He's mentioned it to Donatello before, but Donnie hadn't let him finish. He'd dismissed the notion, he'd been angry with Raph for thinking such things. Raph hadn't broached the subject again. Now, he thinks it's a good time to. "If Raph doesn't make it back, please take care of our family." He smiles, feeling a hot pressure starting to build behind his eye. He knows that it's tears. Michelangelo still doesn't say anything. Raph presses on. "If- Donnie said somethin’ before about the mission goin' wrong and said that it's likely going to be Leo who's out for the count. I dunno if Donnie's goin' to be right, but it's Donnie. He probably is." He laughs, trying to free some of the building pressure in his throat. He swallows, again. Harder this time.
"Don't let Leo blame himself. Or Donnie. An'... An' I don't want you blaming yourself either. Okay?" Raph finally turns his head to look at Mikey and finds that Mikey is staring at him. Michelangelo is looking at him with a pained expression on his face. He doesn't bother hiding it. He knows what Raph is talking about, and even if he doesn't interrupt, Raph knows that Mikey is struggling already with the thought of something going awry. "I know it's goin' to be hard. But... But you're the strongest of us all, Mikey. In here." Raph reaches over, placing a hand over his brother's plastron. "They're gonna need you. It's not fair, I know. But they are. Just... Just remember me for me, an' the good things. Keep goin'. Keep them goin'." Raph's smile is trembling, he knows. He sees Michelangelo struggle for a moment or two before he feels and sees Mikey let out a harsh, near-guttural breath. His eyes are glassy as if he's holding back tears. Then, Mikey nods.
"Okay," Mikey whispers. Raphael keeps the smile on his face and nods back. Then, Raphael pulls Mikey into a hug. He hugs him tight, and he can't help but notice just how small Mikey is compared to him. He feels even more sorrowful, knowing that Mikey is still the youngest but Raph is asking so much from him. He's come to realize and know that Mikey is incredibly powerful, and because of that, sometimes he forgets just how young Mikey still is. Raph tightens his grip. That seems to be enough for Michelangelo. He hugs back, and they stay that way for a few heartrending moments. Raphael eventually pulls back, and if he did so with a sniffle, no one is going to call him out on it.
Raph gives Mikey's shoulders one last squeeze before he releases his brother. He swivels his head back to their people, and Raph knows that they're ready. He finds his way back onto his feet and pushes through the crowd again, heading towards the front lines. He sees Leo. He's waiting for Raph. Raphael takes a deep breath to collect himself before he lets his focus overcome the dread that he'd experienced mere moments ago. He finds his rightful place next to Leo.
"You ready?" Leo's voice is quiet, a muted question. There's the slightest hint of uncertainty, and Raph knows more than anyone what Leo's feeling.
"Ready." Raphael agrees, and his response seems to bolster Leo. He grins. Raph returns it with a smirk, straightening as he turns to face the crowd. "We're moving out soon! Everyone get ready!" He rumbles, voice filling the hangar. There are a few cheers, and everyone scrambles to get last-minute preparations underway. Among them is Cass. He watches as she stoops to hug her son. Raph watches, his heart in his throat as Casey giggles in his mom's arms, his little head poking up past Cass' shoulder. He squeals when he's lifted up by his mom, and Raph feels like he shouldn't intrude on the moment. He turns away despite his aching heart. He's about to walk away when he hears Casey's unmistakable voice. It's not Casey's voice that stops him dead in his tracks. It's what he says.
"Pap?"
For what feels like an eternity, Raph's brain blanks. He stands still as his brothers all laugh, equal parts disbelief and amusement. All Raph can do is flounder. Flashes of Splinter enter his mind, memories of their father dancing before his very eyes. Suddenly, it all makes sense. It's like his world realigns. What his brothers say becomes mush, and he can't seem to process anything but the single word he'd heard. The tears that he's been holding back well up, and Raph turns around on his heels. He strides forward and then stoops down, making himself as small as possible with a waterlogged smile. "Casey!" Raph calls, and his voice cracks, arms reaching forward. His chest is impossibly tight again, but he doesn't care. This is all that matters.
Cassandra's expression melts from one of stark surprise to a quiet fondness, and she crouches to let Casey back onto the floor. Upon the sight of Raph's outstretched arms, Casey races over to him. There's no hesitation until he reaches Raph, and suddenly, Raphael doesn't know what to do with himself. He's become this small human's pap, and he loves little Case with all of his heart. His hands shake, and he can't seem to stop them. He hovers, more concerned than ever that he would somehow hurt Casey. It turns out that his uncertainty doesn't matter. Casey blinks at Raph owlishly, then turns towards the hand that isn't a prosthetic. Raph's heart clenches. Casey reaches out, settling his tiny hand in Raph's. It's barely big enough to circle around one of Raph's fingers halfway. Casey smiles, holding onto the hand even tighter. He hugs it with his whole body, and Raph can only stand so much. His throat burns and his tears make an appearance as he pulls the child—no, his son—close. He holds him against his face, eye closing. He's so small. Everything is clear now.
This war, this fight… It’s for their future. They fight for their right to hand down a world that is secure, safe, and bright. They fight for the right to live freely. They fight to ensure that their children will never have to face the same hardship that their guardians did. It's worth fighting for, down to the last drop of blood, and the last shred of breath.
Raphael doesn't want to, but he knows he has to. He pulls back, releasing Casey from his hug. Case giggles again in response, and his small hands reach for Raph's face. "Oh, Casey. Papa will be back very soon." He smiles through his tears, and Casey grows serious. Raphael can't help but be startled at the determination on Casey's young face, and he has to hold his breath as Case brushes away the tears from his face. Raph nudges his forehead against Casey's one last time, gentle and loving. He pushes his child towards the crowd that's accumulated to bid them luck and goodbye. Despite his young age, Casey seems to realize that it's time to say goodbye. He backs away, but he waves to Raphael the entire time.
With newfound strength and courage fortifying his soul, Raph can feel his ninpo practically crackling. He's going to bring down the Krang, no matter what. For his brothers. For the Resistance. For all those that he lost. For Casey. He lifts an arm to scrub at his face, getting rid of the remainder of his tears. When he talks again, his voice is strong and booms through the halls. "Let's move out!"
Raphael leads the entourage. His expression is set in stone, and his remaining eye burns with untamable fire.
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Somehow, Raph has always known that it would end this way. He's not one for grand maniacal plans like Donnie, not strategic like Leo, or even as mystically talented as Mikey. There is one thing that he knows how to do, something that he's better at than anybody else.
He knows it'll take everything he has.
But that's okay. It gives his brothers, Casey, April, and everyone in the Resistance a fighting chance. A shot at a better future.
He doesn't tell anyone that his mind is already made up. The chaos of the battle rages around them, but all sound is muffled to Raphael. There is an eerie calm descending on him. He can feel the dead weight of Leo in his arms. He glances around, and that's all he needs to conclude that they're in trouble. They're out of options. The sound of screams and cries of their people fighting—and losing—echo. It pierces through the shrouded veil that is surrounding Raphael. A newfound clarity settles, and the knowledge of what he's about to do makes him ache for all those he's leaving behind.
I'm sorry, Casey, he thinks, swallowing. Papa won't be making it home.
"Donnie. You were right," Raphael chuckles, the sound dry and wretched. He looks toward the holographic screen that has Donnie's face. "It is Leo that gets knocked out." At his words, Donatello's face twists. A flicker of understanding seems to bode before it disappears, a fierce look of denial taking over the lines of his face.
"Yes, well, I'm almost always right. 99.99% of the time," Donnie responds, his voice wrecked. It's a low sound, full of pain and a new kind of desperation.
Raphael lays Leonardo down, his ministrations endlessly careful and gentle. He forgets about his strength often because he's a tank; he's as destructive as he is obstinate. Even still, he is careful with his unconscious brother. Leo's prosthetic is destroyed. Raph glances at his own.
A Krang hound overwhelms Leo while he fights hundreds of others; it manages to sink its teeth into the metal of Leo's arm. Raph can do nothing but watch in horror as the hound shakes Leo like a ragdoll. The hound continues to slam the turtle around repeatedly with brutal strength as if it was determined to rip Leo's arm out of its socket as it had already done once before. In Raphael's hurry, he tackles the dog with his full body weight after he wrestles his way closer, sending Krang creatures sprawling from the sheer force he plows through them with. Leo slams into the ground, and the impact is hard enough to knock him out cold with a pained grunt. Raphael growls, the sound twisting into a bone-chilling snarl. His hands grasp the top of the Krang mutt's jaw in a crushing grip, the other latching onto the lower jaw. With a furious cry, Raph wrenches the dog's mouth open. Unnatural howls leave the creature's mouth as it struggles, its screams of pain growing more frequent. Raphael doen't stop there. Once the alien releases the wreckage that had once been Leo's prosthetic, Raphael gives a mighty heave accompanied by a roar of rage. How dare the Krang take Leo's arm again?
The gory sound of bones snapping and the wet, horrid sound of skin ripping fill the air until Raph releases the remains of what had been a Krang creature from his hands. He sucks in deep breaths of air, panting from the extra exertion of strength. He steps away from the bloody carnage, stumbling towards Leo. He presses his head to Leo's plastron, relief flooding in at the sound of a heartbeat. "Leo," he calls, throat hoarse. He shakes his brother, hoping to rouse him. "Leo!" There is no response. He's out cold, injured, and without an arm. Raphael has no way of getting him to safety.
His closed eye opens. Raphael shakes himself out of his reverie of recounting memories. He knows what he has to do. "Don, how long until the shuttles arrive?" He questions. He sounds calm, even to his own ears. He sees Donatello look away towards his wrist screen, and Raph knows what the answer is before Donnie even says it. Donnie's eyes are distant, his brain racing. It's going a mile a minute only to come to the same conclusion. Nothing. Donnie can't move, Mikey is overwhelmed and fighting to get people to safety, and Leo is unconscious. Raph is the last mutant standing.
"Donnie." Raph calls again. He still wants to hear the answer. His gaze is fixed on the holo screen, and Donnie looks back at him with fervent eyes.
"15 minutes." The answer is delivered in a voice that sounds small and defeated. Raphael nods. His nod is more to himself than anything. Everything comes at a price.
"Don. Remember what Raph said, okay?" That's all Raph has to say before a wretched cry sounds from Donnie.
"No! There's another way, we still have time! Raphael, don't fucking do this!" Donnie's panic, rage, and pain are imprinted clearly in his desperate plea. He knows what Raphael is about to do. Raphael only looks at him through the holo screen. He knows what he looks like. He looks grim, determined. Fierce. Donnie reads his intentions loud and clear and tries again anyway. Raph feels as if someone is twisting a katana in his heart when he sees the way Donatello's face crumples, the way his head slumps. He tips his head downwards. "Please, Raph. Please, don't do this. Please," Donnie begs, but there's nothing Raphael can give him as an answer. They have no choice. Donnie knows this. Raphael looks away from the screen. He looks down at Leonardo and the destroyed prosthetic. Wordlessly, Raphael smiles. It's soft, affectionate. Leo looks so young like this. Raph reaches over, and his large fingers find the spot he's looking for on his arm. His prosthetic detaches with a hiss. He presumes where he's going, he won't need this. He hears Donnie make a sound that sounds like a mournful, cut-off cry. Donatello is smart. He's already put together why Raph is doing this. There aren't many supplies to rebuild prosthetics anymore. Raph carefully places his metal arm over Leo. It positions over him as if it's cradling and holding the younger turtle.
"Donatello." The use of his full name forces Donnie to look up, and there are tears running down his face without reserve. Raphael grins, his infamous snaggletooth making an appearance. "Take care of yourself. Raph will always be with you. Don't blame yourself, or anyone else. I know you all, and I know you will keep fighting. Beat them for me. Then, when you win, like a boss-" Raph emphasizes, his voice trembling for just a moment, "-remember me. Tell everyone how much I love them." Donnie says nothing. He's looking away from Raphael now, and Raph understands.
Raphael stands up. The dust and wind generated by the battlefield whip the tail ends of his bandanna around. He takes a deep breath. His mind flashes to all the people he's met in his life. Behind his eyelids, all his memories play out. Mikey. Donnie. Leo. April. Splinter. Barry. Cassandra. The Resistance. Casey. His heart seems to swell. It's for them. A fierce inferno suddenly sparks to life, fueled by all his grief, love, and passion. He's doing this for them. He will protect them, even if it's the last thing he does.
When Raph opens his eye, it glows red. Surges of energy crawl over his body as electricity would, and his teeth grit. There is no more fear. He takes a step forward, and the very ground shakes from the force. Already, his ninpo has grown his size. Bigger, he thinks.
Another earth-shattering thud. Pain surges through him, his body warning him of its constraints. He ignores it. Bigger.
This time, the earth cracks open under his foot as he takes another step. The pain is excruciating. Raphael can see the red lines spidering through his flesh, the cracks he absorbs with his entire body. His form remains solid. With each movement, his body is falling apart. He knows that if he continues, his body will tear itself apart. He will break like glass, and he will die. The thought doesn't do anything for him, and it only emboldens him to go faster. "Bigger!" He roars, his voice carrying through the battlefield in a cry so searing and fierce, he gains the attention of the lead Krang.
Krang creatures scatter from under his feet. Those that don't, he crushes. He is far from caring. He moves his way forward, soul on fire. If he can protect his people, his family, Raph will gladly feed his soul as fodder to his ninpo. His eye is fixated on the lead Krang as he fast approaches. Even from this distance, he can see the way the disgusting pink flesh alien's arrogance melts away into pure, unadulterated fear. It feels good. Raph grins, and he knows that his form follows suit. By the time the Krang realizes his intentions, it's too late. The roar of rage, fear, and defeat that Raphael hears is music to his ears as he grasps the Technodrome. His sheer size dwarfs the once massive ship. It fits into his hands the way a ball would, and his sudden fury at the thought of all those he lost to this alien ship causes his fingers to grasp tighter. His fingertips dig into the ship, and the groaning creak it gives as he crushes it bit by bit is exhilarating.
Raphael lifts it above his head. His ninpo holds strong, but he can feel every molecule of his body breaking under the pressure. He looks up at the sky. He'd wanted to see the blue skies with everyone at the end. At least, this way, he could help them do that, even if it's without him. His eye closes. I'm so proud of you all. I'll see you again. For now, this is Raph out. Like a boss. With a heaving cry that threatens to cleave the sky open and rip the very fabric of time, Raph opens his one eye. Tears fall from it as he fixates it on the lead Krang, his savage smirk only growing wider. He swings his raised arms down, slamming the Technodrome ship down with all of his strength. He screams, channeling every fiber of his being into ensuring that the ship is completely, utterly destroyed. They will never endanger their people with this ship again.
There is a burst of light accompanied by an earthquake that topples buildings and splits the ground, dust clogging the sky in a dirty mist that is impossible to see through. With it, shards of red float and swirl through the air. Everyone who knows what it is also knows what it means.
Raphael is gone.
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There's nothing Mikey can do. He watches as his brother tears himself apart to fight against the Krang. He watches in horror as Raphael screams in equal parts fury and agony, destroying something that is a detrimental blow to the Krang. His hands shake, and his vision blurs, but he can't look away. A sob rips from his throat as he holds Leo, his eyes fixated on the crackling red figure in the distance. One hand cradles Leo while the other is clenched tightly on Raph's prosthetic arm. Somehow, Raphael knew. Somehow. Mikey doesn't know if Raphael is able to hear him, but he grasps the fingers of Raphael's prosthetic as if he is clutching onto his hand. "I'm here! Raph, I'm here! You're not alone, I'm here!" He screams like a wild animal; his tears and grief are unending. He screams as loud as he can, hoping, praying, willing that Raphael hears that he's not alone and that Michelangelo will keep his promise.
He looks until he is forced to close his eyes at the burst of light. There is no one but Mikey to catalog Raphael's final moments. He has to remember, to see everything.
When he opens his eyes. all he sees is a crumbling red figure. It deteriorates, shards floating in the air before it disintegrates. Almost like it never existed. As if Raphael never existed. Mikey stays where he is, too stunned and grief-stricken to even cry out anymore. He watches as Raphael's ninpo disappears. He feels reality slipping from his grasp. His mind can't help but shy away from the possibility that Raphael is truly gone. He denies such a reality, but even that comes to a stop. Something red flits down from the sky, and Mikey reaches up. His ninpo grasps the item, and when he brings it closer, Mikey feels his heart shatter. In his trembling hand is Raphael's bandanna. The only remnant of their brother's body. The only proof that he existed, other than their ashen memories. With shaky hands, Michelangelo brings it closer. He lays Leo down and looks around. Almost numbly, he takes Leo's abandoned odachi. He ties the strip of red around the handle, closes his eyes, and presses his forehead against it. He's only like that for a moment before his eyes open again. The fire that burns within is an anger that burns brighter than magma in a volcano.
In another time, Mikey hadn't understood the word hate. The concept had eluded his grasp. Now... Now he knows what hate is, and more. His loathing now knows no bounds. He hates the Krang. He loathes them. The embers of his hate lodge in his throat as he snarls silently, eyes beginning to glow a fierce yellow. He burns with the force of the sun, his usual warm rays of light turning cruel. He will destroy them all. His orange bandanna falls from his face in ashes, and with it, his hair is released. He faces the enemy that has regrouped shakily from Raph's attack. The enemy that now has set their eyes upon their allies and the rest of them. Mikey knows that the shuttles have landed. He is the last line of defense against the enemy and his allies that need time to escape.
He's never been more glad for that fact. His power crackles, surrounding him like a violent whirlwind. The power surges through his body, and he can feel it chipping away at the years he has left in his body. His hair grows longer, blowing in the wind of his rage without his bandanna to hold it back. He floats, rising higher and higher into the sky as his power builds like a hurricane. He raises his arms, and Michelangelo holds onto his ninpo with a savage ferocity that almost outweighs the pain at the knowledge that Raph is now gone. His fury reaches new heights.
The coals that burn in his throat finally give, and the scream he lets out is like a banshee's. With it, he releases his ninpo. His power is as unforgiving and brutal as the sea, waves of light matching the caliber of a primordial force perhaps as old as time. It floods over the battlefield like an ocean, golden light rolling in with the strength of a tidal wave and the speed of a riptide. He screams again, but it is a wordless cry of unmatched wrath. Michelangelo will burn them. He will destroy every single one until there's nothing by ash and death. They will suffer the way that they have suffered. The blinding wave of light engulfs the approaching Krang, and with inhuman, blood-curdling shrieks, they burn in the fire of Michelangelo's hate.
Mikey lands down, his feet on the ground. He pants as he looks at the razed land before them. Suddenly, all his strength ebbs from him as he falls to his knees. He feels empty. With a sudden hiccuping sob, Michelangelo raises his hands to his face, burrowing into them as he cries uncontrollably. Raphael is still gone.
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Donatello numbly watches as his wrist pad notifies him that the shuttle is arriving in 10 minutes. He feels detached. Everything is hazy, layered in a white fog. He feels as if nothing matters. He stays where he is, his eyes distant. His thoughts are quiet, for once. There's just... Nothing. He stares blankly at the horizon. He hadn't been able to see Raph's sacrifice. He isn't sure if he should feel grateful for that or not, so he doesn't think about it at all. There are other Krang and people fighting, but Donatello can't seem to pull himself together. It's all just so... Distant. Like he's not with this reality anymore. The logical part of his brain wonders if the powerful surges of energy and the earth-shattering showdown that has occurred have somehow transported him into a different universe. He almost laughs at the thought. Why does he feel nothing?
The shuttles arrive. The shuttles arrive but Donatello doesn't move. He watches as others run to the shuttle. He can't help but feel a little resentful towards them, a dull flare in the dark abyss. Do they know what sacrifice just occurred to save their lives? Are they grateful? A distant part of him observes from its detachment the observation he makes is unfair. Donnie doesn't care. In the far distance, he sees April looking around. He can even see her face wet with tears as she searches. Some part of him knows that she's looking for him. She's looking for Leo, Mikey, Raph, or him. His distant thoughts suddenly screech to a stop. Raph. Raphael. She... She won't be able to search for him anymore. She won't find him. Suddenly, everything becomes too sharp. Too clear. The agony that rushes in almost makes him wish for the detached daze he had just been in.
It's at that time that he hears Mikey's scream. It emotes all that he's feeling, and it delivers a blow so gut-wrenching that whatever breath is left in Donnie's lungs is stolen away. Another blinding white light envelops the field, and this time, he knows that it's Michelangelo. This knowledge makes this new reality jarringly, horrifically real.
Raphael is dead.
Just as the numb daze is about to return, Donatello is made aware of the hiccupping sobs that undoubtedly belong to Mikey. All his doubts disappear, and he is confronted with the reality that they've gone from four brothers to three. It's here that Donnie realizes—he'd never gotten to say goodbye. He'd never been able to tell Raphael that he loves him, too. Something wet trails down his face. He's shocked for a moment before he realizes, once again, that it's his tears. They run hot, splashing down his cheeks and onto his collarbone. Then, it's like the floodgates open. His shoulders shake as he wails, face upturned towards the sky as he screams, shouts, and rages. He can't breathe, but Donatello doesn't care. He doesn't. Everything hurts. Raphael had died alone, protecting them.
Donatello's sobs join Mikey's as they howl at the sky like feral, wounded animals, their grief raw and insurmountable. It presses on both of their shoulders, through their plastrons, and into their chests; the weight is so heavy that Donatello wonders if he'll ever be able to stand up again.
#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rttmnt#rottmnt#tapakah0#tapakah0 au#tapakah au#L.O.V.E#life of violence era#fanfic#ficlet#angst#rise donnie#rise leo#rise raph#rise mikey#future mikey#future raph#future donnie#future leo#pain#mourning#grief#unhappy ending#depictions of violence#major character death#agony#krang#life of violence fic#still pain#ow
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OBEY ME X VIOLET EVERGARDEN READER
OMG AM SO SORRY I BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG GUYS PLEASE FORGIVE ME SO AS A APOLOGY I WILL ADD MORE CHARACTERS IN THIS ONE 😭🥲
LUCIFER :
When you first came to devildom he liked how quiet you are but did not like how you almost broke his arm because you thought you were in danger but after he learned more about your past on how you were so young but fighting in a war !? He wanted to help you so much . When you two get in a relationship he helps you find out what love means. He does everything to show you what love means .
MAMMON :
He is scared of you when he saw you almost break lucifers arm in self defence but he saw how emotionless you were he was like “OI human why wont you smile 😡” when lucifer told him your past he was like 😶 he never ran faster then when he runs from lucifer “OMG MC AM SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN IT”
When you guys get into a relationship he makes you laugh so many times and you help him out of a LOT of trouble . He wants to show you what love means in his own way .
LEVI:
HE was like “OMG YOU ARE LIKE THE MAIN CHARACTER FROM ‘I FIGHT IN THE WAR AT 10 AND NOW AM EMOTIONLESS “when he found out what he said was true he was like ‘OMG MC I DIDN’T KNOW DO BREAK MY ARM ‘
(yeah am going to make fun of lucifer almost get he arm broke by reader 🤣) when you guys get in a relationship he was so nervous he helped you with smiling for now he hoping to help you find more of your emotions
SATAN :
HE LOVES YOU so quiet so when you read together it is so peaceful (he laughs so hard when he sees you almost break Lucifer arm )he does wonder why you always call him and his brothers sir like if you were a soldier ? When Levi told him that you were part of a war AT TEN YEARS OLD he was baffled no wonder why you acted like that . When you two relationship it's the most romantic relationship anyone has seen he helps you with your emotions .
ASMO:
OMD YOU ARE SO PRETTY he was so scared of you because what you almost did to lucifer’s arm HOW IS YOUR HAIR SO SOFT TEACH HIM 😡when he found out about your past he cried so hard he was like “MC HOW DID YOU GO THROUGH THAT 😭 😰 “DON’T WORRY MC I GIVE YOU SOOOOO MUCH LOVE DON’T YOU WORRY !”when you two get together he showers you in so much love it was in possible for you not to know what love means after getting with him
BEEL:
OMG WHAT DID YOU DO TO LUCIFER’S ARM oh it not broken ok *almost done eating * he got sad when he saw what had happened to your arm “hey mc what happened to your arms ?” “oh i lost them in a war … I was trying to save major Gibert ….” “oh sorry for asking mc “ “ it ok” he asked if it was ok for you to show him how people in the human world are in war training . you guys are SO CUTE! He helps you to smile :)
BELPHEGOR:
He hated you before cuz dam you kicked he so hard in the stomach he thought he saw god again like dam but mammon told him why and your past he was like ‘tf do i have other twin 🤨’ you guys are so emo together omg you guys be like “ i could not saved my sister 😭” “ i could not save major Gelbert 😢”
He help you feel happy and loved
LORD DIAVOLO :
He was like ‘OMG MY BESTIE ARM ALMOST BROKE 🤧
He know about your past and he was the one that told lucifer ofc he has a lot of tea times with you cuz he heard that your wrought a pubic love letter for a princess marriage *he hope he can make you into his queen * he thought he brought a princess of something when you two get together he is already calling you his queen but he helps you feel again
BARBATOS:
He already knew what happened and he knows how to help feel and when you two get in a relationship OMD everyone is dead you two are to cute and hot like omd
SIMEON:
He think your quietness is nice but please you're scaring him your like a live doll he saw from heaven what had happened to you he got angry when Gilbert's brother calls you “majors dog” and “tool for the war “ he helped you feel loved and he always there for you he got so sad when he saw your arms because he knows it most hurt like hell
Omg guys my ears are better. I hope soon I will be writing a bit more .
#obey me#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#beelzebub#leviathan#asmo#asmodeus#obey me belphegor#obey me simeon#obey me barbatos#obey me diavolo
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:・゚✧:・゚Tԋҽ ɾҽƚυɾɳ σϝ ɳҽρƚυɳҽ:・゚✧:・゚
Pearl x gem reader ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚ words: 751 google docs pages: 2
part : 2/4
·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙ ✩ ̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙ ✩ ̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙ ✩ ̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙ ✩ ̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙ ✩ ̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙ ✩ ̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙ ✩ ̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙
It had been a while since you got un bubbled by these so-called “crystal gems”. The whole point of you being here was to be a teacher for this Steven.” it was a long and gruesome battle, my diamond had sent me down to earth to see how the war was going-” You had stopped speaking when you saw the boy asleep, completely drain out. It was midnight so it was bound for the human body to get tired around this time. You sighed and put the chalkboard back into its original placement. the sound of something hitting the ground ran through your head, and your eyes shut closed as your hands moved to your ears. Trying to block noise, when you opened your eyes… You were back on the battlefield..? You ran to your ship, trying your hardest to get back to your homeworld. You didn't wanna relive this over again yet you did. Pearl had tackled you to the ground and poofed you again. When you awoke from your 'dream land', Steven was looking at you with the other Crystal Gems, all wearing expressions of sadness except for Pearl, she still looked at you with disgust like you were some sort of vermin..” I'm going for a walk.” you stormed off, you had been stuck in that dismal place for far too long, and the air outside felt fresh and free. You took a deep breath and started walking, kicking rocks as you went. You felt a sense of liberation as you walked away from the temple, and the farther you got, the less it seemed to weigh on you. You wondered why the pearl hated you so much, you didn't fight her in the war so what's her problem with you?! As if on queue, she was standing right in front of you.” what do you want. Are you here to bubble me again.” you spoke but the pearl just look at you,” You're doing a good job teaching Steven.” she said.” mhm. Tanzanites are good at things like that.” walking past her. “Why didn't you attack me.” you stopped in your trails and turned to look at her, her voice was full of hurt.” do I reason why didn't do this or that.” your tone was different. It was full of curiosity. Why was she asking you this now..? Why did it matter to her, you just didn't need to. It wasn't an order from your diamond so why bother"I didn't attack you because I had no reason to," you said, your voice low and measured as if you were imparting a very important lesson. "I did not quarrel with you and had no need to take any action against you. I was just minding my own business, doing what I needed to do." You paused for a moment, your gaze steady and unflinching, before continuing. "I think it's important to remember that, no one needs a reason to do something.” The pearl gazed at you, its expression of confusion evident on its small face. "Right, yeah, you're right," it said, hesitating for a moment as if it was trying to process the situation. You stared back at the pearl, unsure of what to say or do.” I'm sorry.” her words felt like a slap in the face to you,” Steven likes you and, me and garn-” “Sorry? You're sorry. And what I'm just suppose to forgive and forget that you bubbled me for 5000 years?!” your hand balled up into a fist.” sorry doesn't give me 5000 years of freedom back!” she just stared at you, her face was full of anger all over again. How ironic. It was your turn to feel angry, hurt, and sad but she just overran your feeling like dirt.” well I'm sorry that I even came out here.” she turned back around and walked straight back into the temple. if all she wanted to do was come down here and brother you, she should have stayed in that temple. While in your train of thought, the amethyst came out,” Maybe you should you listen pearl, she's.. Trying and that's hard for me to say.” you looked at her,” she bubbled me for 5000 years, I just can't forget about that” you crossed your arms, it was true. You could never forgive and forget something like that, but you enjoyed stevens nonsensical questions in every lesson you taught him. Maybe just maybe you could put up with pink diamond pearl for him.
#steven universe#pearl#steven universe pearl#pearl x reader#steven universe x reader#steven universe pearl x reader#x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#pearl su
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So, this is just me ranting about how much i do not like Anakin and Padme as both couple and individuals, but mostly as a couple. Long post
No hate to anyone who likes them, or for the actors who had play them, nor to George Lucas who created them. Let's start.
1. How they met
So The Phantom Menace starts. Padme is elected Queen of Naboo, and the Trade Federation is attacking the Planet, long story short cuz we all know it already, she has to run away but get stuck in a far planet. There she meets 9yo Anakin who is a slave, he's kinda smart and capable with machines. They help him win a race and the boy is set free but his mother has to stay behind. He's sad cuz he miss his mother and finds a good friend in Padme. Until there all is cool, they are both children.
2. Where their relationship really starts.
10 years had passed. Anakin is 19 and Padme is 24. He's send to protect her. They arrived in Naboo and when Padme is just trying to help with the situation Anakin starts to underestimate her and gets angry every time she shows him he needs her to be a succesful mission, I know he's a jedi and he may be the one to know better about protecting people, but if he really knew better he would know that a person that has live there for years is going to know better than him and he just seems angry and proud and can barely bring himself to admit she knows better than him. Then they get into a picnic and spend a good day just talking and playing, BUT Anakin literally started sharing VERY authoritarian and f*cist views and Padme is just like “you are so funny”. First time Padme ignores Anakin being abussive, or possesive or violent or any other toxic behavior. He kisses her and then a few hours later he literally says to her “I'm in agony for the kiss you should have never given to me” if that's not manipulative behavior i don't know what it is, she tries to tell Anakin to think clear and send him away, but then a few days later, Anakin commits his first massacre of women and children and admited to her all that and she's just like “to be angry is to be human”. She literally saw him in one of his most violent behaviors and just shoved it away. Second time Padme ignores Anakin violent behavior. They leave Tatooine, fight side by side, survived and married each other a few days later. Padme literally marry Anakin just days after he tells her he killed children.
3. The Clone Wars.
They have good moments and they had bad moments. But then a year or two had passed and Padme is helping fighting the war within the senate. Things happens and Clovis comes back to Padme's life. He lies and she believes him. Things scalate and she starts working with Clovis, at this Anakin literally tells her “as your husband I demand”, he may be right about Clovis, he was not one to trust, maybe Padme was wrong, but thinking that cuz you are married to someone you can demand something from the other is just wrong. First time Anakin despites Padme's work. Things gets even worst when Clovis tries to kiss Padme and Anakin walks in the middle of it. He was right to be angry and to get him away from her. BUT what was not right is him going full Vader mode trying to kill him, the moment he hears Padme asking him/them to stop, Anakin points at her and says “YOU DON'T HAVE A SAY IN THIS”, he doesn't care about Padme or protecting her or respecting her, it was about him and his jelousy, it was him, saying “she's mine, you are mine”. He never even asked her if she's right, he even thinks she was part of this, that she was cheating on him. Then Padme tells him a bunch of truths but it's for nothing cuz a few days she forgets everything and forgives Anakin. Third time Padme forgives Anakin toxic behavior.
3. Anakin fall.
So, Anakin is back in Coruscant after being away for a while. Padme waits for him and they reunite. Padme tells him she's pregnant and regardless of what many post says about Anakin smiling when he realizes he's going to be a father, he literally has the worst look ever, he's worried and even upset at what Padme is saying and he only pulls up a smile when he realizes she's looking at him and waiting for his reaction.
Then, they go back home, he gets nightmares about Padme dying, and he is worried about her, of course, any partner would be worried too. But what's not okay is that, he doesn't care about his child, he never thinks about the baby when he's seeing Padme die in childbirth. He only mentions their child until Padme asks him about the baby, and he only answer “I don't know” he doesn't even question himself about them, again, he just cracks a smile and sweet words when he sees Padme worry about the things they talked. Days pass by and Padme asked Anakin to speak to the Chancellor in good faith to stop the war so they can start fixing everything that is bad and Anakin snaps at her with “dont ask me to do that, do it yourself in the senate”, so, he gets to demand but she doesn't get to ask something from him? What a man Anakin Skywalker is. Second time Anakin desdain Padme's work. Sith happens and starts Order 66, he doesn't leave a single soul alive. Not even the children. He comes back fully turned and tells Padme he's leaving on a mission. Obi Wan goes and talk with Padme telling her everything, he literally tells her “Anakin killed children” and she answers “he wouldn't” when she knew he would CUZ ANAKIN LITERALLY TOLD HER HE ALREADY SLAUGHTER CHILDREN BEFORE. Fourth time Padme ignores Anakin violent behavior. She reproches Obi Wan he just wants to kill him like OF COURSE, he had literally massacre in cold blood hundreds of man, women and children, he's fully dark side mode and he's still the most powerful force sensitive being. At this point Anakin deserves to die, he needs to die cuz he could literally bring the entire galaxy down if he wanted and she knows, and still she doesn't care about anyone else but him and her (I mean of course having to accept your husband and father of your unborn children needs to face consecuences for his actions is hard but after all the inocent blood he droped i think any good soul would accept it as hard as it would be).
Then she runs to him, Padme tells Anakin everything Obi Wan told her about him, and he never denied it. So Padme starts yo realizes the true, now she knows it was all true, and even after she knows that Anakin massacre children and his fellow men and women, she stills asks a children-murderer-Sith to “run away with her and HELPS HER TO RAISE THEIR CHILD” who in their sane minds would ask a man who AGAIN, killed children to help her raise their baby? WHO? Fifth time Padme is willing to ignore Anakin's violence. Sith happens and Anakin thinks again she lies and chokes her. No matter what, a healthy couple would never end in one trying to kill the other, NO MATTER WHAT. Anakin choking Padme was just his last violent, toxic and possesive act against her.
Then to conclude everything, she goes into labor and Luke and Leia are born. But she's heart broken for Anakin, she's so heartbroken she doesn't want to live, cuz everything that happened. And for the ones who would say “you can't blame Padme for dying” the medical droid literally said she was fine but she didn't wanted to live anymore. She was more worried about Anakin “wheres Anakin?” than for her child(ren). Her last words are not even for her children, they are for Anakin, she literally believe there was still light in a man who literally had his hands wet with children blood. I do believe Padme didn't really care about her children, she barely gives them names but is never concerned about their wellbeing or anything.
And don't get me wrong, I can understand people losing every sanity they had left after Order 66
Ahsoka was attacked by her own men, men she saw as her brothers, good friends, who fought side by side with her, who help her train, she barely get out alive, and she had to see how all these good men were turned to puppets, had to see how every man died, not even as free men, and it took her 1-2 years to step back into the fight.
Obi Wan same thing, he had to see how men he trusted turned against him and try to kill him, only to come back and see one of the people behind all this crimes is the young man he had trained since he was just a little boy, even with all his pain he is willing to fight Anakin, maybe not kill him cuz he thinks leaving him burned was going to be enough to stop him, but he literally fight him, he has to see how his family was slaughter, how his home was burned down and how his brother betrays him and them all, and it took him 10 years to step back into the fight and overcome his grieve.
Bail Organa, the man saw as the Clones attacked the Jedi Temple, saw it burning, saw how they killed a child as he couldn't do anything to stop it, he saw his life work falling into pieces as he wasn't able to stop it, and he never stoped fighting, the moment he scaped the Temple, he jumps into help any jedi he can find, rescued Yoda and Obi Wan, helps Yoda scape from Darth Sidious, and helps Padme get medical treatment, he jumps in to adopt an orphan baby, and just a couple days later he offers Ahsoka help and comfort. Months pass, years pass and he never quited the fight, he always kept going, he never stoped, even when even a year after Order 66 he still dealing with trauma.
#star wars#i really debate myself about posting this#but it really makes me so insane seeing how fans romantice anakin and padme#they were so toxic#as both individuals and couple#and no not everything was palpatine's fault#they both made choices as adults which lead to their 'tragic' ending#tragic cuz ofc is sad to see everything falling down but i just don't think is tragic#padme and anakin#anakin and padme#anakin skywalker critical#padme amidala critical#padme critical#ahsoka tano#obi wan kenobi#bail organa#leia organa#captain rex#anti anakin skywalker#anti anakin#anti anidala#anti padme#long post
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Star Wars Rebel: The Jedi of my kind
This Star Wars Rebels fanfiction is a entry for @spectre-week day 4 Spectre Four (Zeb), and serve during Zeb's Honor Guard days. The story also feature Jaro Tapal from Star Wars Jedi Fall Order.
Garazeb Orrelios of the Honor Guard has heared about the Jedi, but he didn't expected to see one of them on Lasan, much less one of his own people as Jedi Master Jaro Tapal, with his captain and his red hair human Padawan by his side, said to the king, "I understand that you don't want to our people into this war, your highness, but the Separatists may prove to be a threat to Lasan. I ask you to joined the Republic to defend our home world from any attacks." While this impress Garazeb, the king shake his head and said, "No. We Lasat would not fight in a war that hold no meaning for us." and Jaro's red hair Padawan come forward and said to the king, "Forgive me for speaking, you highness, but my master and I have seen the number of battle droids, which outnumber your military. The Republic will give you support." The king said to the boy, "Joining the Republic would lead to the Separatists to attack us. Lasan remaining neutral in this war is the best chance that it has to survive. You may leave and tell the Republic about our choice, Jedi." Jaro bow and take his leave with his captain and Padawan, and Garazeb feel sad for the brave boy whose try to change the king's mind.
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marlene's tape recorders and journal added so much depth to her character. without them, she is so easy to misunderstand, so easy to paint as some awful villain who acted carelessly (or even cruelly). the show is flawed in a lot of ways but the fact that it made no effort to give marlene back any of the depth she was robbed, while largely insignificant side characters like bill and frank got an entire full length movie dedicated to them, is fucking criminal. i love bill and frank this is not me saying that episode is bad it is lovely BUT. marlene is the main antagonist, she deserves something like that way more than they did. for a show that allegedly wants to humanize all of it's characters they sure as hell put no effort into humanizing one of the most humanizable characters in the entire fucking franchise.
marlene is not a terrible person by any stretch of the imagination. i wouldn't even call her a villain. joel is objectively worse than her. however, that objective standpoint is NOT what the last of us is about! it's about humanity, and joel's drive to protect ellie is so much more relatable and so much more human than anything that was going on with the fireflies. that is what made the game so impactful. we, the players, are parents, friends, children, lovers, who would do anything to protect those we hold dear, even if that means sacrificing the world. boiling marlene down to a "villain" not only does her character a huge disservice, but completely undercuts the impact of the entire story, primarily joel's arc.
additionally, just because the fireflies as a whole were not super sympathetic or relatable, marlene herself absolutely was. an overworked leader and figurehead with the entire weight of the world on her shoulders being attacked from every angle at a war with her own mortality over protecting her dead best friend's child and saving the society she's been fighting for all these years. do you fuckers actually think she wanted to kill ellie? absolutely not. listen to her first tape recorder, watch the flashback cutscene from tlou2, fucking look at the way jerry fucking pressured her. fucking listen to how distressed she sounded when she was talking about it. if you read her journals she was literally out of her mind convincing herself she had done nothing but fail her people over and over and over again. this was her last shot to do something right. she knew for a fact that joel wouldn't be happy with her, but she hoped that he could sympathize with her, that he could understand how hard this was for both of them, two people who cared so much about ellie and what she represented for them. direct quote from her second tape recorder: "they asked me to kill the smuggler. i'm not about to kill the one man in this facility that might understand the weight of this choice. maybe he can forgive me."
does that not make anyone else feel sad? she spent her last hours hoping and praying and wishing for someone to see her as a person, to meet her eye-to-eye and tell her that they understand all she has done, and that she made the right choice. she's not perfect by my god people, she is not evil. everything she did was with pure intentions. i can fucking guarantee that if any of you were in her position, they would've made a similarly fucked-up choice, if not an even worse one.
it wasn't her fault, at least not entirely; i'd argue the scientists shoulder more blame than her. in that same damn tape recorder, she states that asking her for the go ahead to proceed with the surgery was more of a formality on their part, and that she really didn't have much of a choice. i don't think marlene had power in that hospital to begin with. she had not been there in over 10 years, the scientists had taken up leadership. she was the firefly's figurehead, someone that people could assign blame to. whatever actual control she had was left back in boston. the scientists were not her fucking soldiers or whatever. why would they listen to her? what was she gonna do, yell at them? tell the people she'd dragged across the country that actually she had a change of heart and this had all been for nothing so everyone can just leave now. no!! she would've been eaten alive!!! what else was she supposed to do? literally what else. someone tell me.
there is zero empathy for her in this fandom. it's not just the show fans, it's the game fans, too. i beg of you guys to read her journal and listen to her tape recorders and try to put yourself in her shoes and realize that she was in just as much pain as joel was when things came to a head. i know she's not your ultra hot rugged white man but come on you guys can be a little media literate. as a treat.
#i had to copy this to my fucking phone for it to work#amazing shit tumblr#anyway#you can dislike marlene idc. but if i see one more post calling her stupid or cruel or even sadistic#i will crash out#* 💡 / she’s the only girl that i wanna love .#the last of us#the last of us 2#the last of us hbo#tlou#tlou2#marlene tlou#joel tlou#ellie tlou#also btw the fandom's treatment of marlene is totally rooted in racism#i am pasty white so its not my place to speak on that#but some other people have#and i think its worth pointing out
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For the ship opinion bingo, how about... Wukong and Bajie?
Haha! The return of the zhuhou asks <3
I'll be honest @ladyzerodark between my preference for aroace SWK & seeing how MEAN these two often were to each other throughout the course of the journey, I didn't particularly care for zhuhou. But after seeing a lot of the CEO of zhuhou @antidotefortheawkward's thoughts and art about that pairing I gained a fondness for it as far as jttw-adjacent ships go, especially as with niuhou (Demon Bull King x Sun Wukong) both Zhu Bajie and the Monkey King work very well as distinct characters in their own right. And while they frequently are cruel to each other near the beginning of the journey, this is something that from what I remember mellows out more into fond teasing and a very strong fighting rapport as the journey goes on. tbh I'm not even surprised that a number of retellings present them as akin to a bickering couple raising a child together lol.
But I guess more importantly for me, one reason why I've come to think that zhuhou can potentially work quite well as a enemies-to-lovers/battle couple kind of situation is that Xiyouji itself does a lot to show us how that could happen. For starters, this is an over 400 year old narrative that (and while this definitely wasn't Wu Cheng'en's intent haha) stands out for steering clear from the bullshit of "all-forgiving innocent and the genocidal dictator they have to bend over backwards to Heal(TM) because he's Sad." I mean, between Zhu Bajie having been an extremely high-ranking heavenly soldier as the Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds who sexually harassed Chang'e and then ate his new pig family after being exiled to Earth before proceeding to eat who knows how many other humans, and Sun Wukong spending decades reigning as a warlord over a vast multitude of yaoguai and spending that time not caring about anyone except for his monkey family and freely murdering and stealing at will, they're both not exactly what you could call stellar citizens. As I've said:
And funnily enough that's the main thing that ultimately has made the appeal of zhuhou both understandable and even likeable for me: where in a sea of supposedly wholesome "enemies to lovers" that give -1000 reason for why the involved blorblos would even tolerate each other and "redemption arcs" that point blank refuse to say the fucked up things the characters did were in fact fucked up, both Zhu Bajie and Sun Wukong stand as guys that the story is very clear about how violent and destructive they were and why they both really needed a redemption arc. Zhu Bajie talks about how much he loves eating people, women especially, and then later kidnaps a young woman he married under false pretext! Sun Wukong freely admits that he killed more people that he can remember and is routinely smashing people's heads into meat patties! Said it before but it in fact makes perfect sense that with disciples like Old Hog Violent Pervert and Yeye War Crimes, Tang Sanzang is constantly crying!
BUT AT THE SAME TIME, Xiyouji does a lot to both show the more positive sides of their characters such as a sincere love of family and a willingness to work hard, with the both of them increasingly working together to help each other and tons of people over the course of the journey. And this genuine help takes the form of everything from fighting together to end the blood-soaked reigns of vicious man-eating yaoguai warlords to saving over a thousand children at one go to acting as intermediaries between heaven and Earth so that a terrible drought can be lifted from a suffering region. These are just a few examples of the good they help create too, and all the while you do have scenes of them laughing and joking together and sometimes even holding hands. I'd be willing to bet that a major reason Journey to the West is one of the great classics of world literature is because it is a redemption narrative that really stresses the need to consistent and persistently do active good for a redemption to be genuine, and seeing both Sun Wukong and Zhu Bajie go on that journey together is a very fun thing to behold.
tl:dr, very cool to witness the tale of two very fucked up but ultimately willing to change yaoguai going on a journey of atonement, hand in hand. Kings of learning and listening and experiencing explicitly horrific consequences for their actions <3.
#anon answered#zhuhou#journey to the west#xiyouji#jttw#sun wukong#monkey king#zhu bajie#me: I don't really care for sun wukong based ships#also me: goes into a lecture about how a romance between the monkey and the pig could work really well lmao
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i rant a lot abt genya and sanemi so here’s 8 rants abt genya and sanemi that no one asked for. but still got.
dedicated to everyone on twitter that got sad after reading them.
1.
i feel like ppl misunderstand genya i think bc they’re projecting into him like “he should be mad abt what sanemi did” no he shouldn’t????? don’t get me wrong he sure COULD but the whole point of the character is that he doesn’t, bc he’s simply not that kind of person !!
he’s so empathetic. he understands sanemi more than,,, probably anyone lmao, not in a logical sense bc he doesn’t analyze sanemi per se hes just led by feelings !! the thing abt genya is that ppl degrading him didn’t make him hate them, it made him hate himself.
i feel like that’s rlly important to who genya is, his values, how he sees life,,, he’s a naturally forgiving and loving person and sees the good in everyone by empathizing,,,
many people wouldn’t do the same but some other people would and that’s the beauty of his character, that he has his own ideals and perception.
2.
one thing that gets me is that genya was,,, healing. he met friends and people he appreciated and appreciated him. he wasn’t alone as he was when he was a kid and as he was when sanemi was no longer by his side.
he was healing until he wasn’t, right? physically and mentally. not even regeneration, not even having friends could save him. he got strong enough to save others, but not himself.
replying to a comment : I actually think it’s a great trajectory narratively speaking,,, specifically bc it’s unfair. The whole thing with kny is that demons are stronger than human, that their lives are on the line, that it’s a war and people die unfairly.
3.
i think genya didn’t feel like sanemi HATED him or something big like that, i think he just thought sanemi didn’t want him as a brother bc he had hurt him with what happened in their past
genya is hurt bc he wants a good relationship with sanemi and therefore wants to apologize, and that’s where his insecurities abt if sanemi hates him arrive, but he never questions sanemi being a good person
and he doesn’t think sanemi wants him dead or to hurt him, he just thinks sanemi’s mad at him and has every right to be (in genya’s mind)
i interpreted it this way bc of the scene where he talks to tanjiro and tanjiro tells him sanemi isn’t angry (he has doubts abt sanemi’s feelings) and bc of the scene where he punches zenitsu (he knows sanemi’s not a bad person)
(both of this scenes are before sanemi’s confession of his true intentions, bc genya’s perspective could’ve changed after that giving place to the death scene. but this leads me to believe this were his feelings before all of that)
but yeah i think we tend to extrapolate their behavior towards each other to every field when i think it’s not it
genya felt hurt on a personal way bc sanemi was trying to cut their relationship, but i didn’t get the feeling that he felt abused
besides genya being a kind and understanding and forgiving person, sanemi was always dismissive towards him. not aggressive.
i mean, he was mean (and he got worse due to genya not relenting) but his objective wasn’t to actively hurt genya by saying he was a worthless piece of trash, it was more to make him see he didn’t have talent.
but he never searched for genya to degrade him and ruin his life, in fact, what hurt genya wasn’t being degraded it was being ignored. related to what i said earlier abt him wanting a good relationship.
genya also has self esteem issues and i guess it’s partly influenced by what sanemi said but it’s mostly bc it’s true that he can’t use breathes. this never deterred him from eating demons to be able to fight though, he was determined to overcome this.
in kimetsu gakuen it’s said sanemi’s hard on genya so genya can be better and i think it’s based on this part of canon; it’s characteristic of genya bc it helps him get stronger (study more in gakuen) and it makes him kinda doubt himself
(in gakuen he thinks sanemi might like him more if he was smart like the tokito’s) but it ultimately doesn’t mean he has a bad relationship with sanemi, it’s just a depiction of their brotherly dynamic smh.
in canon though, the being ignored part IS what’s making their relationship fail.
also, the fact that genya didn’t think that sanemi hated him (he only wanted to be away from him) explains why he was so surprised in the eye poking scene,,, he didn’t feel like sanemi hated him so he didn’t expect him to do that, it felt out of character for him.
i don’t know what genya thought about sanemi after that but i bet it’s something related to not hating him, but hating that he was eating demons and doing something so foul.
4.
sanemi overthinks about genya. about life. on his desperation not to loose people he loves, he makes intricate plans to push genya away.
genya’s simpler, in a way. “you had many horrible memories and i want you to be happy” he’s not carefully crafted plans to protect, he’s much more genuine. he just loves.
5.
i can’t with the shinazugawas bc they loved each other sm they didn’t want the other to die before them. the only thing sanemi wanted for genya to be alive and viceversa bc they could handle loosing their relationship but they couldn’t handle loosing each other
6.
no bc i just know that genya was terrified while he died but i think that he was also happy that sanemi didn’t, everytime i think abt how selfless he actually was i get sick he deserved sm more
he must’ve also felt so broken bc his brother loved him !!! but they’ll never see each other again !!! and they didn’t enjoy their moments together to the fullest but he really only wanted sanemi to survive and viceversa.
7.
i think a lot abt how family dynamics affect the shinazugawas storyline bc sanemi feels like he has the duty to protect genya bc he’s the older sibling
but genya’s the second oldest . was the second oldest and he also has the instinct to protect
genya feels responsible too and more so after he wasn’t there for sanemi when sanemi needed it the most
he had to fight to protect bc sanemi wanted him to be the one protected but he saw the suffering he wanted to help
he’s an older brother who doesn’t have little siblings anymore
comment : Oh not to mention Genya was the one who witnessed his siblings getting killed, sanemi wasn’t in there when it happened. I feel like that would also effect genya majorly since he seen it happen yk?
YEAH THAT TOO that must’ve affected him sm bc he couldn’t protect anyone that night. sanemi protected genya but genya was there and he was unable to do anything 😭
i think that’s also why he’s so insistent on apologizing to sanemi bc like . looking back he’d see that the only thing he could’ve done that night was at least be there for him and he wasn’t
reply to a comment : yeah sanemi could’ve had better communication skills, but honestly? i get him. he wanted genya to get away and be safe and if he had accepted genya’s apology and showed him a bit of warmth genya wouldn’t have let go 😭
8.
we talk a lot abt how sanemi’s issues affected his relationship with genya but not abt how genya’s issues affected his relationship with sanemi
i feel like more ppl see genya only as a victim bc his way of reacting to trauma was to blame himself but that is too his issue
he could’ve hated sanemi or defended himself but he . didn’t . and he probably should have bc that was what sanemi was aiming to do too 😭 but genya just blamed himself
genya didn’t have to keep being after sanemi given how bad he was being treated, and then sanemi wouldn’t have been driven to extremes
it’s the fact that their interests and ways of reacting to trauma and family dynamics conflict what makes the events of kny possible but genya’s trauma did influence it he wasn’t acting like any normal person would, either.
#kny#genya shinazugawa#sanemi shinazugawa#demon slayer#i rant abt this two too much for my own good#the hyperfixation is taking over#took over three years ago actually#but i’m still not over it#what a clever wordplay im a genius
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RWBY COMBAT ANALYSIS: OZPIN
“The single quality that is common across every living creature on this planet... is fear. It's funny then, that as common as fear is... we so easily underestimate its power. Fear of growing close to someone, a subsequent fear of loss, fear of failure. And as more people depend on you, those fears can take on greater power. But fear itself isn't worthy of concern, it is who we become while in its clutches. Will you be proud of that person? Will you forgive them? Will you understand why they felt the need to do the things they did? Will you even recognize them? Or will the person staring back at you be the very thing you should have feared from the start?”
PHYSICAL
In the wake of Salem’s attempted overthrow of the Brother Gods and the subsequent purging of the first age of humanity, her former lover, the warrior mage Ozma, was reincarnated by the God of Light to act as an instrument against her, charged with reunifying mankind and keeping her at bay. Ozma was reborn countless times over the millennia, and when Salem’s agents instigated the Fall of Beacon Academy, he was operating as Ozpin, the institution’s headmaster. A middle-aged human male, Ozpin had been a member of Beacon’s staff since at least Team STRQ’s freshman year roughly 21 years prior, so he was likely in his mid to late 50s at the time of his physical death. While little is known about this incarnation’s personal background, he was confirmed to have been the youngest individual to attain a Headmaster position, the thousands of years of cumulative training and combat experience from his previous forms making him appear to be a prodigal talent and wise beyond his assumed years. As headmaster and a member of the Vale Council, he operated publicly as an administrative and political official, though in private he dedicated himself to a war of shadows against Salem, building a cadre of sundry yet well-placed allies among the other academies. The sad irony was that he found himself keeping just as many secrets from his friends as he did his enemies, his experiences with betrayal and deception leading him to keep many details closer to the chest than necessary.
Putting together a set of physical statistics for Ozpin is difficult due to a lack of information. Despite being a heavily featured character in the show’s first three seasons, Ozpin was only depicted in combat a single time, that being the brief snippets of his final duel with Cinder Fall, while all his other on-screen combative feats have been while he was possessing the body of Oscar Pine. Regardless, there is just enough information available and that can be inferred that a good measure of his abilities can be gauged. As a conventional man standing 6’6”, Ozpin had no significant anatomical factors or enhancements, distinguished only by his graying hair, brown eyes, and slender build. While his desk job kept him away from direct battlefields, Ozpin remained active in his campaigns against Salem, and as a professional Huntsman and veteran military operative, he would have certainly maintained a strict training regimen to keep himself healthy and vital. Despite being an older man, Ozpin remained valid competition for the much younger Cinder Fall, matching her fairly evenly during their battle. A speed and skill based martial artist, he demonstrated his highly polished dexterity in his core fencing technique, contending with Cinder’s assortment of weapons and deflecting her projectiles with casual ease. His agility was expressed though his dynamic physical component, combining blinding rushes with nimble footwork and incorporating deft acrobatic evasions during his fight with Hazel Rainart at Haven. Though the latter is a flawed demonstration due to the fact that he was operating in Oscar’s body rather than his own, Ozpin’s muscle memory and complete willingness to utilize such maneuvers leads me to believe that he did incorporate them in his previous form. In the realm of strength, Ozpin has little to draw from, as the few physical feats we have for him point to him being a speedster and measured fencer rather than a power duelist or brawler. Regardless, he did employ focused power blows against Hazel, so they were, again, likely part of what he used in his own form. Furthermore, given his previous incarnations as a battlefield warrior, he would have almost certainly attempted to maintain a good balance among his attributes, which would have obviously included strength training. He’s not particularly domineering, but he’s not even remotely weak.
Harder to determine than anything else is Ozpin’s tolerance for pain and injury, as the only hit he’s ever been seen taking was the sustained blast of fire that killed him. On one hand, Ozpin’s age had likely undercut his ability to maintain his performance in the long term, and fatigue would have almost certainly been a significant hurdle for him in any prolonged confrontation. On the other, Ozpin was a highly experienced player in his war with Salem and has clearly been though the meatgrinder of hard combat, so I sincerely doubt that he was some glass cannon who couldn’t take a hit. Even if his years did hamper his stamina, his emphasis on controlled technique minimized physical strain, and he was able to fight evenly with Cinder Fall for an extended bout despite the Fall Maiden’s youth. As several of his incarnations were military operatives and/or suffered extremely violent deaths, Ozpin has certainly endured a considerable amount of pain and suffering yet has continued to fight on. In any event, Ozpin’s millennia of training and combat experience afforded him with extreme patience and discipline, maintaining his calm under fire even in the most horrifying situations. During his battle with Hazel at Haven, Ozpin was subjected to numerous physical blows that knocked him across the hall, and while his possession of Oscar again limits the value of measuring his resiliency, this display does provide a powerful demonstration of his ability to understand and deal with pain in the heat of combat. His mental health was by no means perfect, however, as his traumatic experiences and the mounting pressures of his perpetual conflict with Salem left him an emotionally vulnerable man. When Jinn recounted his history to Team RWBY, the combination of reliving his life’s failures and the team’s angered reaction motivated him to retreat into Oscar’s subconscious, not resurfacing for several months at minimum. Fortunately, Ozpin has only cracked when specific buttons have been pushed, often through specific knowledge of his history, and he otherwise remained a stoic pillar of discipline, keeping himself together and persevering under fire.
During his service as Beacon’s headmaster, Ozpin dressed for the job, his wardrobe reflecting his professional status while also remaining practical for fighting. His day-to-day attire consisted of a simple black suit under which he wore a green dress shirt and vest, with a green scarf wrapped around his neck. He also regularly wore a pair of shaded spectacles, though weather these were prescriptions or merely sunglasses has never been confirmed. No protection, but still functional and stylish.
RANKING: Tier 3, Advanced Human Fitness
On one hand, Ozpin is a very strong athlete whose performance levels are more than sufficient to enable his combat skill and outperform his adversaries. But on the other hand, he was past his prime and was beginning to contend with the limitations of age. Ozpin will not burn out immediately, his feats and accolades proving that he can hold out in hard combat, but he does have a lower ceiling than one would hope for. Fortunately, Ozpin is aware of his limits and has built himself to compensate for them while continuing to leverage his strengths. Outwardly unassuming yet dynamic and powerful, he combines blinding energy with balanced, relaxed grace, employing a measured approach to cover his bases and stay alive while working to wear down his opponents before they can wear him down in turn. Essentially, an over the hill Tier 2.
MARTIAL
The ancient warrior Ozma carried a large, jeweled staff during his lifetime and continued to carry it through his incarnations, though by the time he inhabited the body of an unnamed settler, he had rebuilt it into the Long Memory, a collapsible cane imbued with magical properties. When fully extended, the cane was approximately three feet long, though Oscar Pine’s use of the weapon seems to suggest that the length is adjustable. It’s squared shaft composed of a highly durable black substance, and the silvered handgrip featured a protective hand guard. The handle was capped off on one end by a rounded pommel while the shaft extended from an intricate gear system that was clearly part of its magical components. The most notable property of the Memory was its enchantments, which allowed it to store kinetic energy from hits it either delivered or endured and then release that power at will. I’ll elaborate more on this in the Special Abilities section, but as it stands, the Long Memory in irrefutably the single most powerful hand-held weapon in the setting at this time.
Prior to his original death, Ozma was a famed wandering warrior, renowned for his righteousness, courage, and will. Already a tried and tested combatant when he learned of Salem, his skills allowed him to make quick work of Salem’s father and his armies, and he spent his remaining years as an adventuring hero. After becoming a reincarnating immortal, he continued to train and fight in his various conflicts with his former lover, garnering experience as a frontier settler, military operative, and of course, a Huntsman. His most notable form prior to becoming Ozpin was the last Warrior King of Vale, leading his forces to victory through the Great War and personally directing the final campaign in Vacuo, where he was reported to have laid waste to whole armies. With thousands of years of training and experience under his belt, Ozpin was unquestionably one of the greatest martial combatants, not just of his era, but of Remnant’s history as a whole. Even when operating under non-combative roles, namely his Headmastership of Beacon Academy, Ozpin understood that confrontation with Salem’s agents was an inevitability, not a hypothetical, and as such stayed on top of his training. However, despite being a heavily featured character for RWBY’s first three volumes (and even after the fact due to his merging with Oscar), Ozpin has surprisingly few explicit combat feats to his name, and the full range of his specific proficiencies has not been explored. Fortunately, there is just enough actual substance to back up his reputation, as the few fights he has been seen in speak to his incredibly advanced skill. Ozpin primarily operated as an armed combatant, Ozma’s skill as a swordsman demonstrated when he casually slew a Beowolf mere seconds after awakening in his first incarnation. This apparent specialization was expressed in his primary fighting technique, wielding his cane much like a rapier. His favored attacks were swift thrusts and stabs, employing both single strike takedowns and rapid-fire stabbing assaults, as well as powerful slashes and chops to bludgeon the opponent. Despite lacking an obvious edge, Ozpin’s attacks were always executed with grace and precision, his strikes targeting vulnerable joints to stagger and incapacitate his opponents, demonstrated when he brought the much larger and stronger Hazel Rainart to his knees. For defense, he favored whipping deflection parries to intercept projectiles and shunt blocks to brace against melee attacks, while relying on acrobatic evasions to avoid attacks he couldn’t meet head-on. As far as alternative fighting methods went, Ozpin has demonstrated advanced skill in hand-to-hand martial arts, taking an active role in teaching Ruby Rose such methods during their time in Mistral. Additionally, while Ozpin has never been seen utilizing firearms, I simply refuse to believe that someone with his career was not at least a competent marksman.
After millennia of operating as a frontline combatant, wartime military commander, administrator, and politician, it should come as no surprise that Ozpin was one of the most capable strategic minds of his day, distinguished by his calm demeanor and cautious foresight. With Salem and the Grimm as a constant, seemingly unending threat, Ozpin was extremely wary and preached constant vigilance against potential threats. However, where other preparation-minded leaders such as James Ironwood simply built up their primary power base to deter potential aggressors, Ozpin understood the large-scale impact of his decisions, emphasizing intelligence gathering and covert operations to take his opponents’ measure and nip threats in the bud before they spiraled out of control. In this manner, he effectively kept his conflict with Salem a complete secret for millennia, anticipating her attempts at insurrection and maneuvering his own well-placed followers to counter her. When Team RWBY uncovered information about the White Fang’s operations in Southeast, Ozpin opted to let the students scout out the area and work to dismantle them rather than sending troops to the region and tipping their hand prematurely. This vigilant and observant approach made him virtually impossible to overcome directly, forcing Cinder Fall to conduct a long, clandestine conspiracy in order to facilitate the Fall of Beacon. While Ozpin, like everyone else, was caught completely off-guard by the sudden terror attack, he maintained his composure and quickly delegated his subordinates to mount a defense, demonstrating that he could keep control of himself and maintain his tactical viability even when completely blindsided. Of course, Ozpin was by no means passive, and would decisively intervene when situations boiled over, forcibly taking over Oscar’s body during their battle with Hazel for his own safety after the farmhand insisted on acting on his own. Clearly a student of psychological warfare, Ozpin could quickly pick out specific buttons to push, getting under his adversaries’ skin to undermine their composure or, ideally, conscript them to his cause. When Oscar was captured in Atlas, Ozpin pleaded with Hazel to defect by appealing to his once noble intentions, eventually offering the identity of Jinn as a sign of trust. However, this emphasis on secrecy and underhanded tactics also highlighted his key limitation as a leader, as he frequently kept just as much information from his allies as his enemies. While a good man who genuinely valuing and caring for the well-being of his followers, Ozpin’s history of betrayal left it difficult for him to trust others with the whole truth, to the point where he was hiding critical information from his agents as he used them to achieve his goals. This seemingly callous use of people as tools and manipulation through half-truths contributed directly to Raven Branwen’s abandonment of his inner circle, broke Team RWBY’s trust in his leadership, and contributed heavily to Ironwood’s eventual fall from grace.
As far as his conduct in live combat was concerned, Ozpin applied his cautious yet proactive mindset in a way to undermine and subvert his opponents. He would open defensively so as to gauge the opponent’s skills, though he also had a tendency to draw his weapon to provoke a response. Once he settled into a comfortable rhythm or took the opponent’s measure, he would turn around and begin an intense yet measured assault, blitzing the opponent wherever possible and, whenever not, striking at exposed weak points to disable them. This method was best demonstrated in his battle with Hazel Rainart at the Battle of Haven, during which time he was occupying the body of his newest host, Oscar Pine. While initially content to let Oscar cut his teeth in the battle, this came to an abrupt halt when Rainart became aware of their situation, stabbing electric Dust into his arms and viciously assaulting Oscar. Forced to possess the boy for his own safety, Ozpin casually evaded Hazel’s brutish attacks before outflanking him with acrobatics, striking at his face, neck, and joints before he had a chance to properly respond. Eventually bringing Hazel to his knees, Ozpin was only prevented from finishing him off when Leonardo Lionheart shot him in the back, forcing Qrow Branwen to rush in to protect him. While it could be argued that this victory was brought about through superior speed, especially against Hazel’s bulk, it can just as easily be argued that Hazel’s brute strength was the only thing that enabled him to contend with his older and easily more skilled opponent. As far as Ozpin’s duel with Cinder at Beacon is concerned, Ozpin again held a solid advantage over the Fall Maiden. Clearly able to contend with her varied weapon proficiencies, he forced her to give ground with his refined and focused offensive and countered with swift reposts, swatting her flurry of glass shards aside like bothersome flies before putting her on the receiving end of a machine gun poking spree. Cinder ultimately resorted to unleashing her Maiden powers to attack the headmaster, and while Ozpin’s magic barrier was ultimately unable to save his life, the fact that Cinder had to resort to such extreme measures is a strong indicator that she could not overcome Ozpin in battle. While it is unclear who was in control of Oscar’s body during Team JNR’s ambush of James Ironwood, I do feel that Ozpin would have, at the absolute bare minimum, been able to pressure the General in open battle, and even defeat him as he did with Hazel.
RANKING: Tier 1, Complete Mastery
Already a distinguished warrior before he was cursed and having continued to live and train throughout his numerous incarnations, Ozpin, by his nature, has accumulated more training and combat experience than any normal warrior could possibly obtain. His fighting technique has proven versatile enough to engage a wide array of opponents, while also being refined to an unprecedented mastery. Even when operating in a new body, he still proved himself to expertly leverage his incredible talents. While not infallible as a tactician and strategist, he was nonetheless cunning and intelligent, knowing how to operate among friend and foe alike to achieve his goals and undercut his enemies. Further proving his ranking is that he has engaged several of the most devastating combatants in the current setting, and the best they could hope to do was contend. Ozpin has never been beaten in melee combat, his death at the hands of Cinder owing to her overwhelming magical power, not martial skill.
SPECIAL
Before the modern world of Remnant came to be, the first age of humanity possessed the ability to utilize magic, a blessing of the Brother Gods. Sorcery was commonplace in this time, and while the warrior Ozma’s exact standing in relation to his peers is unconfirmed, he was unquestionably a prodigal talent, seen when he single-handedly overcame the army of Salem’s father before besting the king himself in a wizards’ duel. However, after Salem’s attempted rebellion against the Gods, the brothers wiped their slate clean and destroyed their first humanity, the only survivors of this being Salem herself, cursed with immortality, and Ozma following his resurrection into the new world. With the current humanity incapable of accessing the otherworldly abilities of their precursors, Ozma and Salem were left in a vacuum, standing as two of, if not the, most powerful beings in the setting by default. For the purposes of this analysis, I will be taking all of the demonstrations of Ozma’s incarnations into account, not just the ones he specifically is using. Despite my assertions above that Ozpin’s physical and martial abilities while controlling Oscar are not fully accurate gauges for Ozpin himself, transferring into a new body has never been shown to have any impact on the ability to wield magic. As such, the feats and demonstrations of Oscar, the King of Vale, the Wizard and others can be carried over to all timelines. Magic has consistently appeared as an independent, virtually limitless energy source that its wielders, casually called upon even when the user’s Aura has broken. The powers offered by magic in the RWBY setting are quite varied, ranging from clairvoyance and long-distance communication to control over the elements or weather to various forms of manipulating energy. For his part, Ozpin has demonstrated the ability to unleash concentrated blasts of green energy as a long-range projectile, channeling his power through his scepter and later the Long Memory (more on that later). Alternatively, he could focus this power into powerful energy barriers to shield himself from injury, this ability being one of his favorite tactics. While the shield did fail against Cinder’s firestorm at Beacon, this is no sign of weakness given the godly power of the Fall Maiden. Additionally, he has demonstrated powers of personal levitation, likely developing this ability to enhance his already astounding agility in battle. While this is mere speculation on my part, I believe that the devastating weather conditions that contributed to the meatgrinding Vacuo campaign of the Great War was not simply Vacuo’s unpredictable climate but a consequence of magical influence on the battle, which could in turn be directly linked to Ozpin as the Warrior King was personally involved in that battle.
Aside from his direct combative powers, Ozpin’s most notable use of his magic was ironically the powers he surrendered. Over the course of his life, Ozpin has granted magical abilities to several his followers and allies, either as payment for services rendered or as a gifted tool for his agents to improve their performance. Following their kindness and companionship in the midst of one of his more depressing lives, Ozpin, then an unnamed hermit wizard, sacrificed parts of his own power to four young women to create the four Maidens. While I don’t usually like following A>B>C logic, I do find it reasonable to assume that Ozpin is comparable the powers and magnitude of the Maidens given how powerful he remains despite this relinquishing. Ozpin could also grant power on a smaller scale, as seen when he used what he described as a minimal amount of power to grant the Branwen twins the ability to shape-shift into birds. As remarkable as this ability is, however, it is also the source of Ozpin’s greatest limitation as an ethereal warrior. The amount of power needed to grant magical abilities to others took a significant toll on his own energy reserves, reducing the amount of power he could personally bring to bear. This was most clearly demonstrated in his offensive power. In his first incarnation, Ozpin was able to match and briefly overcome Salem with his energy beams, matching her strength with his own and his defeat likely owing more to Salem’s wrathful aggression and his own concern for the safety of their daughters. However, when Oscar unleashed his power on the Monstra during the Battle of Atlas, Salem was staggered but unhurt despite suffering a direct hit, and he was quickly overpowered in turn. Additionally, Ozpin claimed that his power was already dwindling, and though it has not been established why this is happening, it does indicate that his abilities may continue to atrophy as time continues. Fortunately, this decay has not reached a point where his powers are unapplicable in battle, and he did develop a significant countermeasure in the form of his weapon. Aside from being a bludgeoning tool, the Long Memory was also a magical artifact blessed with the ability to absorb kinetic energy, building up power with every blow. By pressing the handle on the hilt, the wielder could release this power into blasts of golden energy capable of sowing massive destruction. It was this ability that Oscar used to survive his fall from the Atlas vault, and later to unleash a surge powerful enough to obliterate the Monstra (which I’d like to point out was several miles across, weighed hundreds of thousands of tons at minimum, AND was imbedded with giant gravity Dust crystals) with an explosion that could be seen across all of Atlas…
...holy shit.
Already a distinguished spellcasting fighter during the first human age, Ozpin truly grew to the height of his abilities over his numerous lifetimes training and fighting with them, mastering his powers to a degree that few in his own time would have even come close to replicating. When he brings out the magic, it is in a powerful, focused spell meant to achieve only what he sets out to do, be it protecting himself from immediate harm or decisively disabling the immediate threat. He capitalizes fully on his innate abilities while also working within and around his few limitations, the building of the Long Memory easily being the greatest example of Ozpin compensating for his long-term handicaps. This standing is even more pronounced in the modern day due to Ozpin effectively functioning in a vacuum; Any limitations Ozpin may have as a spellcaster are functionally irrelevant in 99.9% of potential conflicts because he’s so overpowered that his weaknesses almost never come up. However, despite possessing tremendous destructive power at his fingertips, Ozpin rarely unleashed his abilities in live combat, both out of the need to conceal the war with Salem from the broader public and out of a conscious restraint in using up what remained of his power. Due to these factors, Ozpin only cut loose with his magic when he absolutely needed to, most obviously when confronted by the few other magic beings in his time, up to and including Salem herself. While extremely skilled with his magic and able to call upon it for tactical advantage, Ozpin’s powers were more often than not treated as a trump card, bringing down the hammer with extreme and unconventional powers that most opponents simply didn’t know how to combat. Against opponents who had a snowflake’s chance in hell of contending with his raw power, Ozpin relied almost exclusively on physical combat rather than expending his energies against an inferior target. On one hand, this restrained approach meant that Ozpin ran the risk of failing to make full and effective use of his powers, allowing battles to drag out for much longer than they would really need to and giving lesser opponents like Hazel plenty of opportunities to kill him before he wised up. On the other hand, Ozpin always has the option of cutting loose, and when he does use his magic, the results are absolutely devastating.
RANKING: Tier 1, Dominating Combat
This placement really should require no explanation. As part of a race with innate magical powers that transcend the magnitude and abilities of any conventional Semblance or application of Dust, Ozpin is undeniably one of the most powerful beings, not just of the current world of Remnant, but of the planet’s history as a whole. He balances out between standard offensive and defensive abilities and radical arcane powers that provide him with a great deal of flexibility in various combat situations, while his sheer destructive power is astonishing. He is by no means flawless; his restraint in using his magic proactively does limit his ability to integrate his powers into his martial sequences, while his performances against Cinder and Salem prove that he can’t overwhelm everybody. But at the end of the day, the number of people who could realistically challenge Ozpin’s power, even at this diminished state, is so pathetically small that it rarely comes up. Simply put, Ozpin used his special abilities like a tactical nuke, and if he is ever forced to draw out his full might, woe betide whoever stand in his way.
OVERALL RANKING: TIER 1, SUPER HUNTSMAN
With his overall combat performance determined by his martial skills and special abilities, Ozpin serves as a quintessential example of a Super Huntsman, undeniably one of the most advanced and powerful characters in the whole RWBY franchise. Even with his full potential being diminished by his advanced age and deteriorating magic, this degradation was not nearly enough to detract from his combative effectiveness at the time of his death. His strong athleticism allows him to continue his exceptional performance even against younger and stronger adversaries, he is an unparalleled martial artist with thousands of years of combat experience and training under his belt, stands as both a masterful grand scale strategist and flexible on the ground operator, and he wields god-like magical power that he can express both offensively and defensively to an unprecedented degree reinforced by one of the most dangerous hand-held weapons ever developed. Appropriate for the one who conceived the idea of the academies in the first place, Ozpin was the single greatest Huntsman warrior of his day, matching and exceeding all of his peers in some way while also setting the mold for what virtually every Huntsman and Huntress at the time strove to be.
Still, one must not mistake mastery for perfection or invincibility. Ozpin’s track record and accolades are testaments to his talents and prowess, but they are also evidence that he has not faced a true equal in years. As dangerous a fighter as he was, Hazel Rainart was ultimately no match for the headmaster even in an undertrained body, while Cinder Fall’s raw talent merely allowed her to contend, and she would have undoubtedly lost without the complete Maiden power. Most of the prominent combatants of the current setting are/were members of Ozpin’s own inner circle, and those who weren’t gave him a wide berth.
Contained both physically and mentally in an ivory tower, Ozpin’s isolation from the meatgrinder of hard combat mirrored his difficulties in maintaining the trust of his subordinates. So many instances of betrayal and failure have conditioned him to keep things far closer to the chest than appropriate, ironically turning Ozpin into a victim of the very power he cautioned Oscar against; fear. This fear of trusting others too much can also be seen in his fear of exposing all of his secrets and power, keeping his most valuable assets in reserve for much longer than he needs to. Fortunately, Ozpin has avoided a common pitfall of immortals in that, while he has grown secretive and accustomed to half-truths, he is neither stagnant nor truly cynical. The influence of Ruby Rose and her friends allowed the wizard to regain a spark of hope and trust, even amid arguably the darkest hour of the whole war with Salem. While we may never know how this would have influenced him prior to his merging with Oscar, it is fair to say that Ozpin, in all his forms, is one who can still learn and grow even after an obscenely long life and the most disastrous of failures. Ozpin himself may not be able to defeat Salem per Jinn’s claims, but his legacy of resistance can and will live on in the Huntsmen and Huntresses he has helped to guide. After all, as a fellow green-themed ancient master once said,
“Pass on what you have learned. Strength, mastery. But weakness, folly, failure also. Yes, failure most of all. The greatest teacher, failure is. […] We are what they grow beyond. That is the true burden of all masters.”
*originally posted on RoosterTeeth Community page on 05-10-22*
* images taken from RWBY Wiki*
RWBY Combat Analysis
#rwby#rwby combat analysis#ozpin#ozma#rwby ozpin#ozpin's inner circle#beacon academy#advanced human fitness#complete mastery#dominating combat
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