#no see um writing
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Demon baby fever
 ⚠️Babies⚠️ lack there of being able to conceive child⚠️ slight NSFW because Gavin⚠️ 
No proofread 

Gavin and freelancer we’re at the park waiting for their friends  to go on a hike freelancer was feeding breadcrumbs to  the birds, and Gavin was standing by a tree, taking a photo. All is well and good until he hears a little voice. 
“cuse me!” Gavin looks around before looking down. In front of him there’s a little girl. no older than four.  She was wearing a pastel pink dress, covered in flowers with little butterfly clips throughout her dark curls. 
“Cuse me!” she repeated.“are you lost? little one”  Gavin replied confused but amused at the child’s pronunciation 
“Your verry pwetty!” The little girl bounced on her tiptoes, with a joyful smile. Which made Gavins heart squeeze. 
“why thank you. Your a little princess peach yourself”
“Tank You sir!” Gavin here’s an older woman’s voice calling  “Delaney! You gotta stay by mama baby!” The little girl looks back at Gavin and waves goodbye before running back to her mom. Gavin looks and sees the little girls mom  sitting on on a blanket on the grass with a smaller baby crawling around in front of her.
Ah yes. babies 
One of the most confusing forms of human.
Gavin stood there and thought about it for a few minutes.  he’s seen photos of his friends and even his partner as little squishy babies. and his heart fills up every time. Similarly to seeing a puppy, or a kitten.
 Him and freelancer had babysat for some friends in the past. And every time it was the same feeling. The baby would smile and giggle. and Gavins heart would squeeze. and his smile would grow. The best example of this feeling would be their empathy demon Bestie Caelum. 
Gavin thought about when he would come to visit and how he would ask to do Gavin’s hair. And they would sit in front of the TV and eat snacks until freelancer would come home and see them cuddling passed out on the couch. Or how anytime Caelum would be upset  Gavin would give him a big hug and a kiss on the forehead telling him everything was gonna be OK.
He was so occupied with his thoughts he didn’t even realize freelancer was calling him 
“GAVIN!” he snapped out of it and looks to see freelancer, signaling him over  “The boys just got here! You good?” “i’m fine deviant just lost in. Thought is all”
The hike continued. The group was walking  enjoying the scenery. Gavin and Huxley being a little further behind. Huxley was paying close attention to the flowers and the vines. Gavin was simply lost in thought. 
“you good Gavin?” Huxley nudged his shoulder as they kept walking “what?. oh. I’m fine  just thinking” “about what? If you don’t mind me asking” “……babies” Huxley cocked his head like a confused puppy  “babies? Like human babies?” “Yes. I have been seeing babies and younger kids a lot recently. Freelancer says that that’s common in the spring. but it’s weird” “weird how?” Gavin hesitates before speaking  “babies are like little confused. Adorable filterless creatures, and every time I see one, it makes my heart squeeze” Huxley thinks for a moment  “….. so like baby fever?” Gavin gives him a slightly concerned look “…..what does that mean?” “at least how my moms described it.  baby fever is when you see a really cute baby or really cute baby related things and it makes you want one. My mom always described it as babies giving your heart a little hug” 
Then it clicked.
“i’ll think about that. Thank you” “no problem dude!”
They continued to hike until sundown then they headed back to their cars. After saying good bye Gavin and freelancer left for home.
 The car ride home was silent  for about five minutes until 
“freelancer…..I want a baby” freelancer slowly opens their mouth, letting it hang a gap before speaking  “i’msorryWhat?” “you heard me a baby….a mini squishy deviant with horns” 
Freelancer sat there completely flabbergasted 
“……how long have you been thinking about this?” “well I’ve noticed it for quite a while, but didn’t have a name for the feeling until now.  I want a baby”  freelancer quickly looks down at Gavins crotch before looking at their own and then looking up at the road 
“Gavin…..honey….do you know how mortal babies are conceived?……we can’t….do that…” “then let’s do it like Huxley’s moms” “baby that takes a lot of time and money and research…and i’m still in school…”
Freelancer catches a quick glance at Gavin’s face. “I…um..hey….I would love to have a family. Especially a family with you so……let’s sleep on it OK” freelancer puts a hand on Gavin’s thigh and Gavin looks up at them with bright eyes  “let’s give it a week and if you’re still thinking about it… then will do some research for a little further in the future….ok” “you don’t have to say that if you don’t want one deviant” “no Gavin. It’s a really good idea. I just haven’t thought about it much at all..but that’s definitely a conversation that we should have just…..maybe not while I’m driving”
Gavin nodded. And the car ride continued as normal. when they got home and we’re getting ready for bed the conversation continued.
“so Huxley told you about baby fever” Gavin laid  down and arched his back into a stretch “I thought it was some form of human illness until he explained it” “you know I didn’t even know demons could get baby fever..” “oh, deviant I do remember me saying, in the heat of passion that I wanted to Breed yo-UGH” before he could finish freelancer shoved a pillow in his face  “that’s enough of that! I have class in the morning!” “Well just know. It was always on the table~” Freelancer, turns off the lamp and lays next to him, resting their head on his chest
 “good night my love”
“night baby”
“also let it be known that we would have the cutest Kids”
“goodnight Gavin.”
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 as someone who can’t have children, and has no desire to have a child. This one was not easy to write. so forgive me if it’s dumb. 
TAG: @puffin-smoke @froggytimemachineinternet @evansotherthoughts @themeridian
I forgot to tag someone I’m sorry 

#redacted audio#redacted asmr#redacted gavin#redacted freelancer#redacted damn crew#redacted fanfic#sorry if this is dumb#no see um writing
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katsuki blames the alcohol for making him stupid.
really stupid.
not that he's had a lot, but his tolerance is low for a guy of his size, and he can feel the edges of his inhibitions dulling with every drink of whatever denki has shoved in his hand. it doesn't taste like absolute shit, which is rare enough to have him indulging, just a bit, for the agency halloween party.
another sip has his head feeling a little swimmy, and before he knows it, his eyes are trailing across the room until they find you. again.
whatever the hell you're supposed to be tonight—a witch, or something else in a pointy hat—is really fucking with him, and has since you walked in. the costume isn't revealing in a sense that it's inappropriate for a work event, but it's...hugging you in all the right places. in every single one of them.
without tights, it would be on the too-short side, but—and no, katsuki can't fucking explain this—something about them is making everything worse. and your calf-high boots ain't helping, either.
it's just—your fucking—hips.
katsuki couldn't tell you what song is playing, but you're swaying back and forth to the tune and one of his canines digs into the plastic of his cup, so deeply that it makes a terrible creaking sound and dents beneath the pressure—and that's when a sharp elbow is delivered to the center of his chest.
mina is at his side when he looks, and her wide, freaky eyes scan his face before narrowing in her little shit-eating way.
"you're a pig."
katsuki chokes, and the little freak takes that as an admission of some kind.
"oh my god," she gasps, mouth falling in all her disgust and awe. "you can't even deny it!" and then she laughs, high and chirpy, and there's no way you can't hear her. "oh, you're down bad."
"cram it," he snaps, sinking his scowl into his cup. "i dunno what the hell you're talkin' about."
"you know i really thought better of you," mina sniffs effectively, turning her face up and away. "not the type to be blantly checking out somebody's ass."
katsuki bristles, and his aggrivation growns until the plastic in his hands starts to melt. "i wasn't—"
"i'm kidding!" mina snorts before flicking him in the nose, narrowly dodging the hand he swipes out at her. "quit being a baby and go shoot your shot already."
"piss. off."
but the hero is unaffected by him, simply scrunching up her face in response before turning on her heel to disappear further into the party.
she's wrong, katsuki thinks, because he's not a pig like sero or fucking dunce face or even kirishima, from time to time, who gets red in the face over a low cut shirt and a pair of tits.
fucking ridiculous, katsuki thinks, because he's way better than that.
it's just—the alcohol. that's making his lids heavy and his thoughts dark and his face hot. has him peeking at you over the lip of his cup, has him picturing you in his head when he's forced to look away.
and, well, maybe, the short cut of your dress has a little something to do with it, too—but he's keeping that shit to himself.
taking it to the grave, even.
#i just love the idea that bakugou really thinks he's so much better than like. denki or sero.#like he does NOT think with his dick like those idiots 😒#he's a level headed guy 😒 doesn't get all drooly over some hot babe 😒#but then he sees you all dressed up in some cute outfit and he's like 😵💫😵💫😵💫 uh um 😵💫😵💫 ahem 😵💫😵💫😵💫#biting his fist over the curve of your ass and he's never felt more primitive in his LIFE#i am squeezing him until he pops#happy halloween dears 😌🎃🩸✨️🦇#TAKING IT TO THE GRAVE HA HA GET IT YOU GET IT#GRAVE HALLOWEEN GET IT GET IT#✿ willow writes#✿ thoughts: bakugou#✿ theme: pre relationship bakugou
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We could have had it all...
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#jin guangyao#nie mingjue#oh man....the NieYao dynamic....All these complex emotions and ties to each other and they *aren't* canon?#Sorry fellas but the way you proposed writing your bro a letter of recommendation & agreeing to it was very fruity.#And *then* Lan Xichen shows up. And both JGY and NMJ are head over heels for him and have been for ages apparently.#Its like they found out that LXC had been two timing them this whole time and their response was: “UM. HOT?”#I'm tempted to redraw these three as that one bisexual-core image with Anne Hathaway. You know the one. It fits.#It's strange seeing all of this fondness in retrospect compared to the betrayal you feel in The Untamed after a longer build up.#Initially it felt like 'oops we made him a little too 2 dimensional as a villain - quick make him more sympathetic'.#JGY even had a scene with him kissing babies. As any politician would do to improve their image.#but it does come around to really showing a more authentic JGY and the tension between him and NMJ.#As an angst lover I am personally all for 'what could have been' relationships and they DO have it all.
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"You didn't do anything wrong. You acted like a captain."
"But our crew is falling appart."
"No it's not.
I, Roronoa Zoro, vow to stand by your side from now until the end. Until we find the one piece or die trying.
So bring on the marines or pirates, or sea beasts. You're my captain, Luffy; and I'm your first mate."
#ZOLU#zolu#zoro#luffy#Nfghbhh#The fanfics I could write.#The fanfics I will write#I've been seeing this on loop#OMG ihhhbb gods#You can't do this to me#Zoro Luffy AND NAMI are so well characterized um fucking dying#I'MMA WATCH THE JP VERSION NEXT#HOW WILL I SURVIVE?!!!!#mackenyu#inaki#§mine#one piece live action#opla s1#text#opla
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We Are Robins meeting to Signal apprehending Danny ; requested by @zylev-blog!
“Hey, Danny. How are you feeling?”
Danny gives Duke a tired smile, his head falling back against the wall. He’s sitting up today, which is good. It’s definitely an improvement from the many days Danny was unable to do much but lie down and grit his teeth through the pain as Duke checked on the gunshot wound. It’s a good thing Danny’s a meta with a healing factor, or nothing Duke could have done would have saved him.
As it is, the wound was severe enough to keep Danny vulnerable and unable to move on his own without making it worse. Though Duke has looked, he hasn’t had any luck in finding whoever did this to Danny. He hasn’t brought it up to the rest of the We Are Robin gang, but only because Danny only let him help if he kept it between the two of them.
What’s another secret? If it lets him stay close to Danny and make sure he’s healing well, then he’ll keep quiet and carry on the search by himself. He’s got plenty of practice in doing things on his own.
“Busy out there?” Danny asks as Duke sits down next to him, dropping his backpack onto the ground.
“Yeah, it’s tough with the cops after us, but someone needs to help Gotham and with Batman gone…”
A pained expression crossed Danny’s face. Eyeing him carefully, Duke opened his backpack and pulled out a few protein bars and sports drinks for him. Once Danny takes them and began eating one, Duke takes out the first aid kit, always kept at the bottom of the backpack, and sets it in front of Danny.
The most he can do is offer supplies and company at this stage of Danny’s healing. He gets twitchy and tense when Duke tries to tend to his wound, and seems to have plenty of practice in patching himself up.
He didn’t answer when Duke commented on it once, so Duke let the matter drop.
Metas may have legal protection, but that doesn’t stop people from targeting them. Duke has no intention of pushing Danny into remembering unpleasant things while he’s already wounded, hiding out in the upper corner of an abandoned warehouse taken over by a group of homeless people. Most aren’t inside during the day, choosing instead to be out with the rest of the city, which leaves them alone.
Duke keeps an eye on the ground floor of the warehouse, making sure no one comes in while Danny tends to his wound. When he peeks back, he can see that it’s much smaller than it was the night Duke found him, crawling down an alley with one hand clutching his side, tears slipping down his face. There had been so much blood that Duke was sure he had just stumbled upon someone dying and froze, horrified.
And then a shout down the road prompted him to move, hauling Danny up and helping him into the warehouse to hide.
For a normal person, if it didn’t kill them, the wound would still be raw and bleeding, larger than any gunshot wound he’s seen before. But Danny’s wound is closing up quickly, no longer bleeding, the edges a healing pink.
It doesn’t look like it’s going to scar, either.
“Think it’ll be all healed up by the end of the week?”
Danny glances up, then continues covering it with new bandage, large enough to cover the entire wound. “Hopefully,” he says. “Then I’ll be out of your hair and can figure out a way to get home.”
“Your folks gonna look out for you?”
“Probably. I’m not planning on telling them, though, since they’ll get way too overprotective. The only reason they’re not tearing Gotham apart looking for me is because I came here with my godfather and he told them we’d be gone for two weeks. Can’t believe he tried to kill me on day one…”
“Your godfather tried to kill you?”
“Yeah. Not personally, or anything, but he definitely hired the guy who shot me. Though he also yelled at him for shooting me? Not sure what that’s about, but I never trusted the guy and he didn’t try to help me afterwards when I ran away, so. You know.”
Duke wants to have a conversation with Danny’s godfather. Maybe bring the other Robins along to make sure the message sinks in: Don’t touch Danny.
But Danny, acting so casual about his godfather trying to kill him, would be unhappy about it, and Duke would really rather be able to take care of him than be shut out for trying to take control of the situation.
“Shit, man, that sucks,” he offers, instead of prying for details so he can hunt down his godfather. “You want a hug or something? I can’t really do much else, but if it can make you feel better about all this…”
Danny brightens and shoves the first aid kit away, his shirt (one of Duke’s old ones he offered up to replace the bloodstained one) falling to cover the bandage. “Please. I would love a hug, dude, I don’t remember the last time I felt so lonely.”
Carefully, Duke wraps his arms around Danny, leaning back so Danny could relax fully and not worry about holding himself up. Danny sighs into the hug, going fully limp as he drops his forehead onto Duke’s shoulder.
“Thanks for this. And everything,” Danny says some time later. He doesn’t move to pull away, so Duke stays as he is, watching the weak sunlight slowly move across the warehouse as it spills in from dirty windows.
“You don’t need to thank me. I mean, I’m a Robin.” He brings up a hand to tap a finger against the R embroidered into his jacket. “It’s what we’re here for.”
.
.
.
It’s been years since he saw Danny. After he was fully healed, Duke helped him get to city limits, watching as he boarded a bus and disappeared down the road, leaving his life just as suddenly as he entered it.
After spending so much time together, quiet hours of stillness just looking out for each other, his life feels emptier without Danny in it. He knew it wouldn’t last, that Danny would go home eventually, but it didn’t make the parting any easier.
Even now, as Signal, taking a break from going on missions with the Outsiders to spend some time with the Bats, his thoughts drift towards Danny, wondering if he’s alright. In his darker moments, he wonders if Danny’s godfather has tried to kill him again, if he’s succeeded. In calmer, happier moments, he remembers Danny’s quiet stories about his family, his town, all his dreams and hopes for the future, remembers the easy company and how Danny didn’t look at him with pity when talked about his parents, just quiet and contemplative.
Sometimes, he can’t resist the urge to look him up, but there are so many Danny’s out there that he doesn’t know where to start. He never got Danny’s last name or learned when he came from.
It’s not like he can just ask the Bats for help finding a guy he knew for two weeks before he ever joined them. They’re all busy with their own missions, and definitely don’t have time for Duke’s reminiscing.
“Just caught sight of the truck entering city limits,” Oracle says in his ear. “It’s heading towards the Coventry.”
“On it. Any movement from the mobs?”
“None yet. I expect this to change soon. Red Hood and Black Bat are patrolling nearby if you need backup.”
“Got it. Signal out.”
His comline shuts with a little click, and then he’s grappling over the roof tops, keeping an eye on the roads in search of the truck. He doesn’t have time to think of Danny anymore, not when a shipment of new, experimental weapons is passing through Gotham. Spoiler had heard a few whispers of it and Red Robin helped find more solid details; the mobs are all looking to take the shipment for themselves in an attempt to get the upper hand in the nonstop fight for control of Gotham’s streets.
It’s passing through during the day, visible and a good move to keep from being ambushed at night, but it’s not enough to stop mobs hoping to take out their competition with new weapons. Duke enters the Coventry just as his comline beeps once and Oracle begins giving him specific directions, along with a brief description of what the truck looks like.
Apparently, the weapons are being moved in a U-Haul rental truck. That is… certainly a Choice™ to make for moving weapons around the country.
He follows it from the rooftops, but nothing happens. The truck passes through the Coventry without incident and takes a turn that keeps it away from Crime Alley and the Bowery. It gets to the middle of East End then pulls to a stop in the parking lot of a diner.
Two people get out and stretch, then head in to get something to eat.
It would be the perfect time for someone to break in. Duke pulls the light over himself, manipulating it to make him disappear from sight as he looks down from the edge of the rooftop, tense and prepared for anything.
He almost doesn’t see it at first. It’s just a flicker, a flash of color, a shift in the shadows across the street. But he does see it, even if he can’t find it again, and drops down from the roof, creeping towards the truck.
Duke waits, holding his breath, off to the side of the parking lot.
A minute passes. And then a figure materializes out of thin air, floating right behind the truck. All Duke can see is white hair and a black body suit; they’re either a meta or an alien, but either way, Duke is ready to take them down.
The figure lifts their hands and a bolt of neon green energy hits the truck, melting the back and leaving a large hole that gives them direct access to the weapons. And then they shoot again, destroying the weapons.
“Phantom!” someone shouts, and the truck driver comes tearing out of the restaurant, a white gun in his hand. His companion follows, her gun also out, and the begin shooting.
Phantom dodges the blasts, then vanishes from sight. He reappears behind them a moment later, tackling back of them into the side of the truck.
“No you don’t!” Duke say, rushing forward as he pulls at the shadows around him then sends them racing towards Phantom, restraining them. The driver and his companion collapse onto the ground, groaning weakly, and Duke grits his teeth. “O, send someone to look after the people moving the weapons. Apprehending an attacker now.”
He doesn’t wait to hear a response, tightening the shadow’s grip on Phantom, who struggles fiercely.
“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way,” he says, pulling Phantom closer to him.
Phantom doesn’t answer. They just scream, the force of it making Duke fall back. His shadows dissipate, and Phantom flies up.
“Get back here!”
Duke gives chase, dropping in and out of shadows, throwing some at Phantom in the hopes of catching him again. But Phantom is fast and it takes all he has to keep up as they cross Gotham.
He thought Phantom was flying around blindly, but the way they move across the roofs and then through the streets are too confident, too focused to be anything other than someone with a destination in mind. But where? Where could they be going? If they’ve been in Gotham, then Duke would have heard of them.
A flying, powerful meta with a multitude of powers? Yeah, he would have known about them.
Phantom flies through a wall and Duke curses, going onto the roof and looking around, waiting to see them fly out. But they don’t and Duke finds a broken skylight to drop in from, landing on the support beams of the warehouse, well above the ground.
He knows the warehouse, he realizes suddenly. It’s the warehouse Danny hid in while he was healing. Duke hasn’t been back in years.
“Just listen to me, please,” a voice says behind him, and Duke tense, spinning around to face Phantom, floating just out of reaching distance. “Those weapons are dangerous. No one should have them, it’s why I had to destroy them. Please, you can’t let them get those weapons out.”
Duke stares. Something about Phantom is familiar. The shape of his face, maybe. His voice. Maybe it’s just because he’s in the warehouse again, with someone pleading for his help.
Maybe it’s all in his mind.
“Danny?”
Phantom flinches, floating back a few inches. “What— How—”
“What happened? Is it your godfather again?”
“My— Duke? Is that you?!”
He definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but Danny’s here. Danny’s here in front of him, needing help, and he doesn’t need the Signal. He needs Duke.
He pulls off his helmet and lifts his bare face to Danny.
“Oh,” Danny breathes. “Well. I guess I should have known you’d be a hero. Can you help me one last time?”
“Yeah, of course Danny. Tell me what you need.”
“Those weapons, they were first made to kill me and others like me. It’s a whole thing I don’t have time to explain. But they’ve been changed to affect humans, all types of people, as well. I can survive a few hits from those weapons, but for most people, it would kill them instantly. I need to destroy all of them and stop any further production before the rest of the world gets a hold of them.”
“That’s why you—”
“They have to be destroyed,” Danny says. “And the people making and selling them need to be stopped. I can’t do it on my own. I’ve tried, but…”
“I’ll help,” Duke says, “I’ll help. This is a big enough problem to bring the Outsiders into it. Or the Bats, but they like to stay in Gotham.”
Danny floats closer, looking painfully relieved. “Really? They’ll be able to put an end to this?”
Duke reaches for him. “Yeah. they can do it. I’ll make sure of it.”
Danny’s feet land on the support beam as his hand meets Duke’s. They balance above the rest of the warehouse, drinking in the sight of each other. Duke rubs his thumb over Danny’s knuckles in soothing circles and watches as the tension begins to fall away from Danny’s shoulders.
“Duke,” he whispers, “I’ve missed you—”
The door below is kicked open, and a gunshot rings out.
Moving on instinct, Duke tackles Danny, wrapping him up in his arms as they fall off the support beam. They hit the ground hard, rolling a bit, and Duke tucks Danny into his chest, bodily protecting him.
“Narrows!”
The Red Hood stands over him, menacing, a gun pointed at him.
“Hood?” He loosens his grip on Danny. “What the hell was that for?”
“Thought you needed back up. You chased after our guy and lost your helmet, I think I’m right to be a little worried about you. So, who’s this?” There’s a hard edge to his voice, and Duke realizes with a sinking heart that all anyone else sees is an aggressor, a meta who attacked a truck full of weapons, attacked two people, and had to be chased down by the Signal. Jason’s seeing a threat and acting accordingly, putting Duke’s safety first.
And with his helmet off, identity clear, Danny’s even more dangerous now that he has this knowledge.
“I’m sorry,” Danny whispers to Duke. He doesn’t have time to ask for what? before Danny’s shooting another beam of green energy at Jason then taking off, flying through the roof and out of sight.
“Shit,” Jason mutters, straightening up from where he ducked to avoid being hit, then puts his gun away and kneels next to Duke. “You alright? Why’d you let him go? I thought you had him.”
“I’m fine. He’s not… He wasn’t going to hurt me. He just needed help.”
“Sure. And what are you not telling me?”
“I knew him. He’s a good person, but he’s been in danger for a long time. This was him trying to protect others from what he went through.”
Jason takes off the helmet and stares at him. Then he sighs and reaches a hand down to help Duke to his feet. “Alright,” he says, “Let’s head back to the truck. You have until then to convince me that they’re the problem, and if they are, then I’ll help you blow up more of their weapons.” He claps a hand on Duke’s shoulder, then pulls his helmet back on. “Grab your helmet. We’re wasting daylight, Narrows.”
There’s nothing else he can do, no way to search for Danny when there are other leads to chase, so Duke grapples up to the catwalk where his helmet landed and grabs it.
Just before he puts it on, he sees a flicker of white just outside the window he’s facing. He ducks his head to hide a smile. It’s almost like he’s stepped back in time; Danny’s here in Gotham, needing help and asking for it in the warehouse.
And though so much has changed in those years, there’s still one thing that Duke will ensure never changes: he’s Danny’s hero. Above Robin, or Signal, or anything else, Duke is Danny’s hero.
This time, he has the power to actually help Danny. He’s going to make sure no one ever hurts Danny again.
“Let’s go,” he says, jumping back down to Jason, helmet on. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
#ghostlights#dc x dp#dp x dc#dcxdp#dpxdc#dc x dp fic#dp x dc fanfic#prompt fill#my writing#gotta be honest i do Not know much abt the We Are Robin movement. have yet to read those comics....#also this definitely deviated a bit from your prompt. sorry!! still hope i got the main things you wanted to see#duke being dannys hero is something so special to me...#also it is his parents selling weapons and blueprints and things to the giw which is then given to the military for new weapons#a truly terrible pipeline#duke and jason and whoever else joins will find the source of the weapons. break into the fenton home. and dannys just there eating toast#in his pjs like. um hi guys did u need something? (and staring at duke like DUDE HELLO WTF??)#a mess of a situation :) not gonna write it bc i know it would get away from me and get so long#thanks for the prompt!!
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In theory i like the idea that rick is growing and developing as a person. In practice it ends up falling short though, because no one balances him out. rick is getting better while no one else is getting worse, and it causes the whole thing to end up feeling a bit stale. The biggest draw, at least for me, has always been rick and morty's shitty dynamic, but it barely exists anymore because rick has been so watered down.
The ideal solution is literally just to make morty into a bigger asshole. Essentially flipping the main characters' personalities would offer a wide variety of conflict into the show, and would also help keep it "fresh".
Instead it feels the writers are pretending that they can't possibly do anything with morty's character, that they have to keep him the same anxious idiot he was in season one. I've said this before, but it's incredibly frustrating to watch the show have no problem with expanding rick's character while struggling with keeping morty's heavily stagnated characterization consistent. Where rick has space to develop between multiple seasons, morty is constantly forced into one of two boxes (smart/stupid) depending on the episode.
#rick and morty#again i dont hate ricks therapy arc i just hate that morty doesnt have a parallel AntiTherapy arc#not to mention how. even if morty IS more bitter it usually only lasts for like an episode#there is no smooth progression or development. the show is just ping ponging between him being an idiot vs him being capable#this is why im sooooooososososo badly hoping the roy machine comes into play again.#otherwise this is genuinely offensive treatment of a main character#genuinely at the moment i feel like fandom understands morty better than the writers.#this is a half vent post to be honest im just so tired of the rick bias within the staff. Like make. a new show at this point#i also have thoughts on the way rick has been written these past few seasons and um .#well it feels lile fans are in the writers room and im afraid this is a negative. it sort of seems like the show is trying to-#sweep ricks past actions and behaviors under the rug#as if he isnt literally the worst person ever. up until recently i guess.#like its just frustrating seeing mortys abuse being handled so haphazardly? like the s5 2 crows episode#it just feels like the writers are trying to fill out a checklist instead of writing them as people.#“what we had was abusive dont you see?” who talks like this#okay im over it(lying)#rick sanchez#morty smith
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To Whom It May Concern
Tim couldn’t stay.
No matter what Bruce had said when he caught Tim in the act of laying the paper trail to establish his Fake Uncle, no matter how long Dick had sobbed into the phone at him during an inordinately expensive long distance (read: off planet) phone call, no matter how much Alfred had been fussing over him and insisting it was no trouble at all to care for him since Tim’s scheme had been revealed and promptly foiled, it just didn’t change the fact that Tim couldn’t stay. Truthfully, the Wayne family’s apparent sudden burst of affection for him actually made this whole thing worse because somewhere along the way, without even trying, Tim had failed to keep things wholly professional between them and somehow tricked them into thinking he belonged in their family!
He couldn’t let it stand. For the sake of Jason’s memory, for the sake of preserving the sanctity of the true Wayne family, he had to stop this… this absurdity of pretending that Tim belonged with them from continuing! Tim had to run. Tim had to vanish. It was the only way to make things right again. Sure, the thought of never seeing any of them again, the thought of being done with Bruce and Alfred and Dick and Barbara and everyone in his life he currently held dear once and for all made it feel as though his heart was being ripped out of his chest only to be shoved back down his throat to stop the flow of air into his body—but it didn’t matter. He didn’t matter, not nearly as much as they did. This would be for their own good.
Tim was leaving, and it turned out to be easier than he thought it would be in the end. Not emotionally easier, but logistically easier. Bruce had been extra attentive lately, so he thought he’d have to fake an injury and get ‘benched’ so that they would lower their guard long enough for him to slip away. But by some divine stroke of luck, a new player had waltzed onto Gotham’s criminal scene not too long after Tim’s Fake Uncle plan fell through and started making threats against Batman and Robin. They had apparently freaked B out enough to prompt him to send Tim off to Titan’s Tower to ‘focus on his team for awhile’. Tim had accepted the command with the requisite amount of complaint, planted some fake texts to make it look like he’d actually communicated to his Team that he would be there, shoved everything from his guest room in the Manor that he couldn’t bear to part with into a duffel bag underneath a spare uniform, gave Bruce what only he knew was a more emotionally charged nod goodbye than usual, and then poof. Tim Drake was zapped out of the Batcave for the last time ever.
He let himself have one night in the Tower. Partly to catch a few hours of sleep in a familiar and secure environment, but mostly so he could clean up his room for its next occupant, sweep his belongings and his person for any extra trackers, and repack his bag more efficiently. He also took the time to grab a spare backpack and fill it up with emergency rations. While he was taking plenty of cash, he didn’t want to risk having to go into stores with security cameras for a while, at least until he’d cleared a suitable distance from San Francisco proper as well as implemented the first of his many planned disguises. He didn’t think a bottle of cheap hair dye and some colored contacts would be enough to fool Oracle indefinitely, but if he was appropriately cautious it might keep her from getting a confirmation of his location long enough for the Bats to either get bored looking for him or to actually realize they were better off without him around.
When the early rays of dawn started to bathe the sides of Titan’s Tower in ember colored light, he was off. He left behind seven trackers pulled from his clothes and bag and one more from behind his ear; he’d kept the one he noticed in his favorite pair of sneakers because it was a type that wouldn’t start transmitting data until the Bats actively started tracking it and he was hoping to find someone who wore his size at the bus station he could pay to wear them so he could throw them off for even longer. If all else failed, he would just toss them in an out of the way trash can. He had also left a letter of resignation for Batman that he’d whipped up based off of an online template, signed and sealed and awaiting discovery atop the pillow in his nearly empty dorm room (he had tried for something more personal, a longer note of explanation for Bruce about why he couldn’t stay despite being asked, but—the words just wouldn’t come, and he’d been running out of time). His bag was heavy, courtesy of all of the extra supplies he’d grabbed in anticipation of having to evade not only Batman’s team but the rest of the Justice League. His heart was heavy, courtesy of emotional baggage that he wished was as easy to unpack as his actual bags would be when he finally found somewhere to settle.
He boarded the first bus he saw after he’d gone a few blocks and took a seat towards the back, where he leaned against the window and stared back at the iconic giant T that he used to belong in, however briefly, until it disappeared from sight. And just like that, Tim Drake’s life as Robin was over.
—
To Whom It May Concern:
This letter is to formally notify you that I’m resigning as Robin in Gotham City, effective immediately.
Thank you so much for the opportunity to work with you all for the past three years. I’ve enjoyed getting to know the team and appreciated the opportunity to learn about vigilantism and hone my detective skills. I’m excited to take these skills with me as I pursue the next step of my career.
During the past two weeks, I have done everything possible to wrap up any ongoing cases and leave no unfinished business. The Robin suit as well as my spare have been cleaned and placed in the armory of Titan’s Tower along with any gear I have been issued.
I wish Batman and team the best, but am afraid I will be out of contact for the foreseeable future.
Sincerely,
T. J. Drake
—
Red Hood stalked into Titan’s Tower with all the grace of a wildcat closing in on its prey, his vicious smirk hidden by his helmet, his unauthorized entrance hidden by virtue of the heroes’ own stupidity in failing to remove his codes from the database. Seriously—he’d thought gaining entry into their so-called fortress would be the hardest part of this little trip, and had only tried his access codes for the sake of checking the most stupidly obvious Plan A off his list! For them to work, to realize that there was nothing truly separating the precious sidekicks from the wrath of a vengeance minded crime lord, well… it sure made the message he was about to send feel all the more poignant.
He had come equipped to subdue an entire horde of Teeny Titans without hurting them (much), but to his surprise, the tower was empty of kid sidekicks despite Robin having been sent to work with his team yesterday afternoon, a fact Jason had gleaned last night from listening to the mind numbing chatter of Nightwing being bored on a stakeout and wanting to chat with anyone over the comms Jason had hacked into. Which he’d done in order to better plan his aggressive takeover of Crime Alley, not because he missed hearing his family’s voices. Nope.
(Since coming back to Gotham, it had been more difficult than he anticipated to stick to the plan when some part of his mind still stubbornly clung to those foolish, childhood dreams of belonging and family and a father who gave a shit and things like that, and kept popping up with annoying questions like ‘what if he revealed his identity to Dick or Alfred or someone just to see if maybe Talia had been right and they’d want him back after all. Clearly, the existence of a new Robin meant that they’d never really given a damn about him, so he was going to go through with this thing, just watch him.)
Truly this had to be fate, because the path to Robin was practically unfolding before him with no barriers. All that was left to do was find where in this gigantic clubhouse the itty little birdie was nesting. Jason tried the common room first. Then the kitchen. Then the rec room. And then the training floor. And the med bay. And then the armory, where he found Robin’s suit, but no actual Robin. He supposed the next place to check would be Robin’s bedroom, because even though it was well past eleven, Drake was a teenager and could conceivably be sleeping in, especially since there was no Alfred around to rouse him at a reasonable hour. Luckily, the doors on the floor with sleeping quarters were all clearly marked with either the name or symbol of the person it belonged to, so it was easy enough to find the one with that all too familiar stylized ‘R’. Jason paused to take a steadying breath before gritting his teeth and deciding to really make an entrance by kicking down the door.
…To an empty bedroom. Like, not just devoid of Tim Drake, but also devoid of books, trinkets, photos, decoration, clothes, dishes, mess, et cetera, et cetera. It looked as clean and sterile as a hotel room, and if Jason hadn’t literally just seen Robin’s insignia on the door he would think he’d entered an unassigned room by mistake. He frowned and yanked off his helmet, as if looking with his own two eyes would suddenly change the scene, but no. Nothing. He strode into the room and yanked open the closet—empty. He walked over to the desk and yanked open the top drawer—empty. He yanked open the bottom drawer, and mostly empty except for—wait, was that a pile of deactivated Bat trackers? Fucking bizarre. When he stood up, he glanced around again, and this time something on the bed caught his eye. It had been easy to miss against the white pillowcase, but there was an envelope tucked up against the pillow. With a scowl, he stalked over and grabbed it.
When Jason flipped it over, he noted that it was addressed to Batman, but decided that since he was a crime lord now he didn’t have to care about something as trivial as opening someone else’s mail. He didn't want to take off his gloves and risk leaving prints on anything, so he pulled out a dagger and used it to slice open the envelope. As he flipped it over to dump its contents on the desk, he had the fleeting thought that he probably should have put back on his mask in case this had been some villain’s ploy to poison Batman, but luckily all that fell out was a single sheet of printer paper folded into thirds.
This he was careful not to damage as he unfolded it. It wasn’t a long note, just a few small paragraphs, so it was quick enough to read: To whom it may concern. This letter is to formally notify you that I’m resigning as Robin in Gotham City, effective immediately…
Jason dropped the letter and took a step back, staring at the innocuous piece of paper with wide eyes and racing thoughts. Robin had—Drake wasn’t—Timothy—the kid, he was quitting? Leaving? Gone?
It could be a trap. It probably was a trap. Except Robin shouldn’t have had any way of knowing Red Hood would be able to track him all the way to Titan’s Tower so why would he have set a trap for him in the first place? A trap for someone else, then? If it was, it was really, really stupid of him because the kid had signed his resignation letter from Robin with his actual name, and surely he wouldn’t have made it this far if he were that careless with his identity. So, it was either a very bad trap, or not a trap at all. And if it was not a trap at all, then…
Then Robin had… resigned. Which, ok, Jason’s stated goal coming into this thing was to get Tim Drake to stop being Robin. So he should be happy about this, right? Except he’d not gotten to toss the kid around and work out his aggression at all so there was no satisfaction in it. Also, the timing was fucking obnoxious. Go figure that the very day he decides to do something about his replacement, the kid decides to peace out of the Gotham vigilante scene and… and go…
… Somewhere. Jason had no idea where Tim Drake would go if he were no longer Robin. Given how he’d waited until he was alone and then left the note to be found on the other side of the country, Jason had a sneaking suspicion that returning to Gotham was currently off the table. The letter had said he would be ‘out of contact’ for the foreseeable future; Jason could read between the lines enough to figure out that meant he was running away.
—Which, fuck. Another Robin was running away from Batman because of… well, Jason didn’t know what this kid’s issue with B was, but there were plenty of potential flaws in the man to choose from so Jason was going to play it safe and assume it was something Bruce did. Clearly, the man could never learn. And now, this poor dumb Robin was going to pay the price! Jason was more than familiar with the number of horrors that awaited kids who ended up on their own. He could starve; he could freeze to death; he could catch some disease like the flu, or get cut on a rusty nail and get tetanus, and then die from it because he couldn’t access medical treatment. He could get mugged, or harassed by cops, or snatched up by traffickers, or—
And fine; Jason himself had meant to hurt him. But that had been for ideological purposes, to prove a point about putting children in danger and not taking good enough care of them and stuff. It wasn’t like he was going to hurt him that badly, just bad enough to freak out Bruce a bit. But Jason was also the Red Hood, and the Red Hood’s mission was to do what was necessary to stop awful shit from happening to vulnerable kids. And this stupid, stupid letter was apparently enough to abruptly transfer Timothy Drake into that category in his head.
Everything Jason had heard about the kid said he was smart, and the timing of his disappearance pointed to some thoughtful planning on his part. Jason could imagine that the little shit had some sort of plan in place to evade Batman’s attempts to locate him, and he probably could manage to run without getting caught by Bruce and the Gotham team for a while. Heck, the kid probably had strategies to get away from most if not all of the Justice League members, since B was sure to call in favors once he got frantic enough about the little bird. But one thing the kid likely did not plan for was being pursued by him. Ex-Robin, currently a crime lord, League of Assassins connections, and a bone to pick with Timothy specifically? (He ran away from home and left a fucking resignation letter about it? Does he not realize what that would do to Dick, to Alfred, to Bruce—)
After stuffing the letter into his pocket, Jason put back on his helmet and stalked out of Titans Tower as silently as he’d arrived, this time with a new yet equally furious purpose sharpening his steps. Sucked to be Timothy Drake, he thought, because the Red Hood got his message and he was officially concerned.
#my writing#my fanfic#tim drake#jason todd#to whom it may concern#would be what this fic is called if I ever continue it haha#but this is as far as I got and then kinda lost steam#but it stands as a one shot pretty nicely so I thought I'd share it here see what people thought. ya know.#could it be a multi chapter fic one day? sure. what do I know. will it be soon? probably not.#um ok what else#unreliable narrator#tim drake has self worth issues#are probably the two most critical tags/warnings for this one.#anyway actually being on desktop is giving me way too much power look at me go all these tags and no typos damn!
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If nothing else Koenma is a Kuwabara stan and I'm right there with him o7 (I need to write the kuwameshi fic that goes with this fr)
#maybe one day i'll write that au i have sitting in my head#ever since the comment he made about making kuwa spirit detective instead ive been thinking about it#like...what if yusuke is still recruited same as canon but like#kuwa was already spirit detective? doing assignments for the guys upstairs and all#and they made yusuke help him after his resurrection instead of going solo#and it's hilarious because they still have the ''rivalry'' set in place so it's like#now i gotta be coworkers with this guy i was in a fist fight with last week?#yusuke is like you can't be serious you want me to fight DEMONS with the guy who cant even beat ME? lmaooo okay#kuwa would be more in tune with his powers atp in this au and super offended like hello#why would i use my reiki on a FELLOW HUMAN CHILD you DICK i can hold my own on my assignments just fine#but he's actually really excited to be able to spend time with yusuke doing something besides getting his ass handed to him#they're both genkai's students (she's endlessly annoyed but they grow on her)#i just think it'd be fun cos like#it'd be harder to exclude kazuma from shit if he's literally been involved in this shit before he even met#kurama and hiei#kuwabara isn't really told about yusuke's resurrection so things go mostly the same up til he's brought back#they're both called to koenma's office and it's the spiderman pointing meme 💀#it's koenma's first time seeing kuwa in person as he usually just sends assignments with botan#yusuke has already seen him cos of the resurrection arc#and koenma is SUCH a fanboy ''kuwabara it's such a pleasure. you know you're my best worker 🥺''#''um urameshi am i seeing things or is that a fuckin baby'' yusuke will NOT stop laughing#it fucks koenma up so bad he makes sure he's in his adult form when he's around kuwa next#cos he wants to be the respected boss but also guy that you can chill with!! he's so cringe#okay yeah i need to write this it's such a fun concept#kuwameshi#yu yu hakusho#kuwabara kazuma#yusuke urameshi#koenma
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Imagine if at some point after finding out about his true heritage HDW Wars gets sick but with every sneeze he accidentally sneezes fire and no one can figure out how to stop it.
So I don't know if I want this to be how Zelda actually finds out but I couldn't resist writing this—
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"No no, seriously, don't go in there!" Mask says with an increasing amount of panic, moving to block Zelda's path to Link's tent. "He's like, uh, he's really sick! Like, like throwing up and coughing and sneezing on everything, it's super gross! You don't want to go in there!"
Zelda raises an eyebrow.
“Mask, I'm more then well-aquainted with 'super gross sickness', as you put it. It’ll take more then that to stop me from visiting Link.”
“But... you might get sick!” Mask quickly argues, and Zelda considers for a moment. Then she continues forward.
“That’s true. But I doubt five minutes to wish Link well and check up on him will hurt anything."
"W-well, he," Mask splutters as Zelda strides past, "he, he doesn't want to see you!"
"Oh, is that so?" Zelda asks a tad mischeviously. "Funny, a minute ago you said Proxi was busy and that Link was so sick he could barely speak. How is it that you know what he wants?"
"Uh... that was before he couldn't speak," Mask quickly adds, but Zelda merely strides around him, nearly to the entrance of Link's tent. "Wait wait wait!"
Zelda pauses with her hand on the flap, looking down at Mask, who's still trying to block her while sporting a very odd expression on his face.
"...Is anything I say going to keep you out?" he asks, sounding like he already knows the answer.
"I'm afraid not."
Mask grimaces.
"Well... alright. If he asks, tell him I tried, and don't say I didn't warn you," he mutters, and steps aside. "You might wanna watch your hair."
Zelda raises an eyebrow, but Mask doesn't elaborate, and she enters the tent.
The first thing she notices is the smell of smoke in the air, just thick enough to be noticeable upon entering. The small lantern lit on the table doesn’t seem big enough to make the tent smell as smoky as it does, but nothing else seems to be on fire, and her attention is quickly drawn to the cot in the corner.
Link looks miserable, curled up under a thin blanket, dressed in only his undertunic and pants, and shivering hard enough that Zelda can see it from where she stands. Tune is sitting next to him with a bucket at his feet, and the sailor looks just as worried as she feels.
Tune looks up as she walks in, startles, then turns a glare on Mask.
"Mask, you—"
"I know, I know. Look she has to find out eventually, why not now?" Mask huffs, crossing his arms.
"He didn't want her to find out like this, he wanted to actually tell her," Tune hisses, and Mask has the decency to look a bit guilty.
"Have me find out what, exactly?" Zelda interrupts, and Tune and Mask both look at her, strange expressions on their faces. Neither of them gets a chance to speak though, as Link suddenly groans, and screws his face up.
“...Uh oh.”
"Hit the deck!" Mask yelps, and Zelda has just enough time to wonder what in the name of the goddesses is going on before Link lets out a loud sneezing cough.
Which sends a small burst of flame straight across the tent.
Zelda jumps back in surprise, and Tune quickly grabs the bucket at his feet and splashes water on the part of her skirts that ended up catching the edge of Link’s flames.
Smoke drifts from Zelda's now-doused skirt, and Link groans, Tune gently patting him on the head.
Zelda stares.
“How on earth..?” she breathes, and Tune and Mask look up at her, then at each other. “Is he all right? Is this a curse? How is it that he’s breathing fire?”
“Sneezing fire, technically,” Mask corrects, and Tune elbows him.
“Look, it’s... it's a little hard to explain,” Tune says carefully, and Zelda crosses her arms, suspicions suddenly raised.
“Was this one of you two’s faults?”
“No! Of course not! Look, it’s just...” Tune says, obviously struggling, and Mask sighs and gestures to Link.
“Turns out his dad is Volga,” he says simply.
Zelda blinks.
“Link’s... father. Is Volga. The dragon knight.”
Mask and Tune nod.
“That’s the one,” Mask says.
A lot of odd things that’ve happened in the past month suddenly add up in Zelda's head, strange looks, awkward avoidances, the uncertain glint that sometimes appears in Link's eyes. Zelda had assumed most of that was because of her hiding Sheik's identity (and she does still feel guilty about that), but Volga being Link's father...
Zelda’s head spins, but she doesn’t have time to ask further questions, as Link drags his eyes open with a groan.
“Captain?” Tune asks, and Link looks at him, face haggard with exhaustion. His gaze drifts around the tent, pausing on Mask for a moment, then drifting past him and settling on Zelda. Link stares at her, startles, then pushes himself upward, raising a hand in a shaky salute before Mask shoves him back down.
“Your Highness,” he croaks, and Zelda winces at how painful his voice sounds.
“At ease Link, you don’t need to treat me like that,” she assures, almost wishing she was still in disguise as Sheik. Link was never so concerned with protocol around her then. “Especially not while you’re sick.”
“‘S just a cough,” he rasps, and Tune sighs.
“Yeah, a cough that’s making you sneeze fire. Not exactly ‘just’ a cough.”
Link hums in a croaky way, then he startles as he realizes just what Tune has said, and looks at Zelda. Blue eyes meet blue, and Zelda can practically see the thoughts running rampant through Link's head.
"Y-your Highness, I'm—"
"Link," Zelda interrupts, her voice gentle. "Tune and Mask already told me. You don't need to hide it."
She sees him swallow, and Tune pushes his head back down to his pillow, a little frown appearing on his face when Link barely resists.
"So you... know," Link whispers, closing his eyes with a small cough. The action sends some smoke puffing from his lips. "My father's... Volga."
"Yes," Zelda replies, the shock beginning to fade, but still present.
There's always been something a little different about Link, something that set him apart from the other soldiers. Zelda had always thought it was more due to being the Hero, or the piece of Triforce he held, not... being related to a dragon.
She brushes her thoughts aside. "I apologize. Mask did his best to keep me out."
"She's too stubborn," Mask huffs, crossing his arms.
Tune's face hitches up in a smile. "Zeldas always are."
Link looks slightly more at ease, but still uncertain, and his eyes drag open again, circles dark beneath them.
"Princess," he begins in a rasp, "I know... it isn't much, but I promise you I am loyal to the crown. Volga is still my enemy. I wasn't a... aware of his relation to me until very... recently."
"Link, I didn't come in here to question your loyalties," Zelda says, pulling a chair over and sitting by his bed. "And I'm not in the practice of judging others on the actions of their parents. I heard you were ill, and came to see how you were doing."
Link blinks at her, and Zelda reaches a cautious hand out to feel his forehead, wincing at the heat radiating off of it.
"You have quite the fever," she says as she looks over at Tune, and he nods, eyebrows pinching together in worry.
"I know. We're not really sure what to do for him. We were just treating it normally, but then he started the fire thing..." he trails off, and scratches the back of his neck.
"Impa's getting a book that has some information on dragons in it though, she's hoping it'll help," Mask adds, and Zelda hums, pulling her hand back from Link’s forehead. She’d wondered where Impa had gone off to.
"I take it she's aware of this information too then?"
Something flickers in Tune's gaze. "She is."
Link screws his face up again, and Zelda dodges the flames that come out when he sneezes this time, Mask splashing some water on the corner of the tent the flames try to lick at.
“Uh... I’ll get more water,” he says as he looks down at the empty bucket, and slips out of the tent. Zelda is left alone with Tune and Link, and Tune sighs, brushing some of Link’s hair out of his face.
Zelda watches them in silence for a moment, Link’s raspy breathing the only sound in the tent.
“I hate to pry, especially while you’re sick, Link, but... when did you learn of your father?” Zelda finally asks, voice soft. “You said it was recently. Did Volga tell you?”
“No. It was before Cia split time,” he whispers. “That day she ended up... talking to me alone. She told me about Volga.”
Anger on Link’s behalf rises up in Zelda as he coughs again, from ending up alone with their enemy, from hearing such sensitive information from Cia of all people, from becoming such a major player in this war at all... but she tampers it down, and meets his eyes, dull with sickness.
“I’m sorry,” Zelda says quietly.
Link lets out a raspy sigh, and closes his eyes again. “I’ve had some time to... come to terms with it.”
He lets out another abrupt sneeze, flames shooting across the tent, and another several accompany it, the fire brighter each time. Zelda leaps to her feet, but before the flames can cause any damage, Tune whips out the wind waker and blows them all out.
The sneezes seems to have taken what’s left of Link’s strength, and he curls up again, looking exhausted as Tune lets out a sigh of relief. The younger hero pulls the blanket over Link’s shoulders as he tucks the wind waker back in his pocket, and then he smiles a little apologetically at Zelda.
“I think he could use some more rest,” he says, and Zelda nods, dusting some ashes off her skirts. She’s likely going to smell of smoke for a while.
“Of course. I need to be on my way anyway,” she sighs, not looking forward to going back to her maps and strategies.
Zelda looks down at Link, eyes closed in exhaustion, shoulders faintly shivering, the smell of smoke and sickness about him, and she swallows.
“I hope you feel better soon, Link.”
“Thank you your highness,” Link whispers in response, and sighs, seeming to fall asleep moments later.
“...he’s quite sick, isn’t he?” Zelda says once she’s sure he’s asleep.
“He could be worse, but... yeah,” Tune says quietly, then smiles at her. “But Impa will be back later, and I bet she’ll have some information for us. Link’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure he will. He’s terribly resilient,” Zelda says with a small smile of her own. “Thank you for looking after him.”
Tune shrugs. “Somebody’s gotta stop him from setting the whole camp on fire.”
Zelda can’t help her chuckle at that, and Tune lets out a laugh of his own as he walks her out, pausing at the tent flap.
“Princess... would you keep all of this to yourself?” Tune asks her, a strange expression flitting across his face. “Link’s still struggling with it, and if the rest of the army knew...”
“I won’t say a word,” Zelda promises, and Tune relaxes a hair. “Only to Impa, or you and Mask.”
“Thank you,” Tune says gratefully.
Zelda takes his hand and gives it a squeeze. “You’re welcome, Tune. I’ll try and come back once Impa returns, maybe we can all discuss this together.”
Tune’s eyes do something funny again at the mention of Impa. “Maybe. See you, Zelda.”
Zelda says goodbye in return, and Tune slips back inside the tent, a puff of ash accompanying him.
She stands there for a few moments longer, thinking about Link and Volga, and Impa a little as well. She’s curious about what this all means for Link, being part dragon (whole dragon?), and what he’s doubtlessly been going through since he found out.
She wonders how Impa found out about all of this as well. Did Link tell her? Or Tune perhaps? Was Link concerned about what him being related to their enemy would mean? And how long has Impa known of the identity of Link’s father?
Zelda shakes her head, scattering her thoughts, and begins the walk back to her tent.
“So many questions,” she sighs to herself, and rubs some more ashes from her skirts.
As if this war weren’t already complicated enough.
#if i had a nickel for every fic ive written where there was a sick character with fire powers id have two nickels#which isnt a lot but weird its happened twice#hyrule warriors#hdw au#legend of zelda#fic#and slightly hinted at:#hw zelink#answers from the floor#lovely hybinger nova#writing from the floor#Zelda: Impa how come you knew about Link’s father anyway#impa: *sweating* well. um. you see.#impa: it’s a Sheikah’s job to know everything
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sokka, katara, and the paradox of “the gifted child”
something i’ve noticed is a tendency to (mis)characterize sokka as someone who is dismissed due to being a nonbender, when that’s only partially true. sokka is certainly dismissed by some for not being a bender (namely, by benders), but i think there’s a key difference between being dismissed and not being valued in one specific way. katara was valued by her tribe for being a waterbender for the very crucial reason that she was the last one left. had she been a dime a dozen in her tribe, which would have been the case were it not for the systemic extermination of her people, she would not be valued as highly for possessing this skill. that said, while sokka clearly does hold some resentment over his lack of bending ability, calling himself “the guy in the group who’s regular,” i think it’s folly to assume that this means that sokka was dismissed and discarded as “average” while katara was put on a pedestal for being special. because while katara obviously was considered special, sokka is also clearly considered special by his family, merely in different ways. and if anything, sokka embodies the archetypal struggle of the so-called "gifted child” far more than katara does.
while sokka clearly believes himself to be disposable and intrinsically worthless, i don’t think that he was actively neglected by his family. even if katara was clearly marked by her bending as embodying the last hope of their tribe, that doesn’t mean that she was seen as more gifted than he was or was designated as her family’s obvious favorite. for example, the way hakoda talks about sokka (saying he trusted him with leading and protecting the tribe when he was thirteen, calling him a genius, and other such insanely high praises to heap on a child) shows that he clearly views his son as particularly exceptional and has never been shy about showing that. sokka is distinctly insecure around his father for assumptions he makes regarding hakoda's faith in his abilities and his insecurities when it comes to his perceived failure in not measuring up as a man, but from the second we meet hakoda, it's evident that these insecurities are entirely internal and completely unfounded, at least in terms of his father's perception of him. hakoda is nothing but incredibly proud of sokka, constantly emphasizing just how capable and brilliant he believes him to be. whether or not sokka is capable of internalizing it is another story, but it's clear that hakoda is not stingy in his praise and affection, not even a little bit.
moreover, while katara is clearly kanna’s favorite on an emotional level, she nonetheless affords sokka far more respect. she admonishes katara and tells her to do her chores, and notably, she also impresses the importance of “listening to her brother,” and backs up sokka’s decision to banish aang from the village. you can claim that sexism plays a factor in how sokka views his own supposed position of authority, but kanna is a woman who traveled the entire globe as a teenager because she wanted to escape patriarchal impositions dictating her life. she’s simply far too smart to treat sokka as any sort of authority within their village if she did not fully entrust him with that responsibility. she treats sokka almost like a peer, as if she is legitimately co-running the village with a fifteen year old boy.
katara is only a couple years younger than sokka at most, but her dynamic with kanna is very different. on one hand, kanna clearly sees more of herself in katara, can identify with her sense of adventure and rebellious spirit, but on the other hand, it means that she views katara as a child to be taken care of, who needs to be reminded to do her chores and bailed out when she gets herself into trouble. sokka doesn't want to be viewed as a child, and so he does everything in his power to position himself as kanna's equal rather than her grandson. he takes his duties and responsibilities very seriously, and is obedient to a fault whenever he is submitting to any authority he actually respects, especially his father and grandmother. to be honest, a lot of what katara considers coddling is probably just sokka never being bossed around by their grandmother because she never actually has to tell him to do his chores. because despite katara's claim that he simply faffs about "playing soldier," sokka's problem is actually that he takes himself too seriously for her liking. and with the exception of kanna saying "be nice to your sister," which is the kind of teasing a parent says to their child, she clearly respects sokka's position in the village. when katara tries to run away with aang, kanna takes sokka's side and forbids her from acting impulsively, but when sokka is the one who packs supplies and plans to save aang, kanna gives them both her blessing.
katara is the only person who takes umbrage with the notion of sokka running the village and telling her what to do all day. and those frustrations have likely accumulated up from a lifetime of being told to “do as her brother says” and “why can’t she be smarter and more responsible and levelheaded blah blah blah.” she clearly thinks that she’s punching up when she yells at or mocks him, which may seem crazy to anyone who understands that sokka’s entire identity and existence revolves around being katara’s protector, but katara doesn’t actually know this. in her mind sokka is merely the perfect child who has always represented this impossible standard of “genius.” and what's more, he's absolutely insufferable about it.
and to be clear, this isn’t to say that katara herself isn’t highly intelligent, capable, competent, and skilled. she’s not only an incredibly talented waterbender, but also clever, quick, witty, creative, resourceful, practical, mature, and thoughtful in other ways. at one point, toph calls her a genius (“a stinky, sweaty genius”). and she is, indeed, an extremely powerful and innovative waterbender, both due to her hard work, but also because she is genuinely brilliant. that said, she’s smart in the realistic way that a kid is smart; she works hard to be good at what she cares about (and she has an existentially devastating reason to care about being a good waterbender, mind you), and she’s also good at thinking on the fly when she needs to. however, unlike sokka, or even toph, her intellect may be impressive, but it isn’t astonishing. sokka’s mind functions completely anomalously. i wouldn't say he's unrealistically intelligent, because i do know some people in real life who are similarly adept at processing all kinds of different information with the ability to deftly apply it near-immediately, but it is certainly abnormal, both for real world standards and within his universe.
i normally bristle at this term and its applications (for multiple reasons), but since it is explicitly stated multiple times across the show, it is important to acknowledge that sokka is referred to as a genius multiple times, including by his father. katara is referred to as being a genius by toph for using her own sweat to waterbend (which, as hama points out an episode later, isn't even that clever because you can literally bend water from the air around you); conversely, sokka is referred to as a genius for helping to invent hot air balloons and for figuring out multiple escape routes from the world's most secure prison in less than a day. we don't know the exact timeframe under which katara trained with pakku and earned the title of master, but she clearly worked incredibly hard to earn that title, not only as a master, but as the greatest waterbender in the entire world. i assume it was any time between a few weeks and a little over a month in which zhao would organize a fleet to arrive at the north pole, which is, of course, extremely impressive in itself and a testament to her passion and determination. however, on the other hand, piandao claims that sokka has basically mastered the sword and is ready to make his own within less than a day. it's important to remember that katara is also brilliant in her own way, and possesses great skills that sokka lacks: not only bending, but also midwifery, and an ability to locate her own emotions and allow herself to be vulnerable with others, two skills which should never be looked down upon for their association with womanhood and femininity, and are also particularly impressive considering just how young katara is. she is brilliant in her own right, and in any other family, katara would easily have been "the smart one." and yet, sokka is simply in a league of his own.
so, yeah, he can stand to get thrown around and yelled at; everyone her entire childhood just kept on impressing how special and perfect and brilliant he is, he can handle it. she has no idea that he is depressed, depersonalizes, loathes himself, and thinks he’ll never be good enough, because he never actually communicates any of that to her. the closest he ever comes is admitting that he’s jealous due to not having bending abilities, and even that shocks katara, even though it’s such a small and obvious admission in the scheme of things. she has no idea what’s going on with him psychologically, how he views himself in relation to others, and specifically in relation to her, so she kind of just assumes he’s entitled because surely he must know how special he is and thus feels owed accolades by the world at every turn. he deserves to be humbled, and she is in fact righteous for humbling him.
when she makes fun of him for being stupid or miserable or paranoid or cynical, she thinks she’s owning him the way a righteous underdog fights against an oppressor. it's similar to how zuko wants to "put azula in her place." in katara and zuko's minds, they are both the valiant underdog siblings who had to fight and struggle against the siblings for whom everything came so easily. and in katara’s mind especially, she is always punching up, and she always has a moral justification in lashing out at anyone she pleases. so she couldn’t fathom that the reason sokka puts up with her antagonism without complaint isn’t because he’s so above her that he can simply ignore her taunts and gibes without a care (if that were the case, he wouldn't bother to taunt and gibe in return), but rather that he feels so detached from his own personhood that he would never think to actually explain his feelings to the person whom he has defined himself through since childhood. and if he did ever, somehow, communicate that to her, she’d have to reevaluate their whole entire lives and dynamic. but he never will communicate that to her, so she’ll never actually have to do that.
moreover, even though katara often does tease sokka and cast doubt upon his competence and abilities in low-stakes situations constantly, whenever they are actually facing a real problem that requires an immediate solution, katara seems to forget that sokka is supposedly an unhelpful, lazy, immature idiot because she immediately turns to him to fix all their issues. and then once that issue is resolved, katara goes back to finding his existence bothersome. sokka, on the other hand, falls into this role of problem solver instinctually, with the one exception that when they actually name him as the idea guy, he jokingly complains that it’s a lot of pressure to be one who is always expected to come up with solutions. and while he is joking during that conversation in “the drill,” he’s being honest to an extent, because his perfectionism and fear of failure is truly dire.
when katara is faced with failure, whether as the consequences for her own actions or otherwise, she simply gets back up and tries again. she can’t be knocked down, she can’t be deterred from achieving her goals. she has a very healthy approach to making mistakes, and while she doesn’t always learn from them in the longterm, she does always try her best to fix them and amend the situation as immediately as possible. katara is someone who is incredibly resilient and is constantly demonstrating the sheer magnitude of her inner strength, especially in particularly difficult moments. she has the ability to fail as many times as it takes without letting that failure affect her own self-esteem or desire to keep striving for what she believes in.
sokka, on the other hand, is very physically resilient (he gets beat up a lot), but his emotional resilience is actually quite pathetic. he has no tools for coping with failure. from even the slightest mistake, like not actually being able to open the doors at the fire temple with his makeshift explosives, to a catastrophic one, like his failed invasion, sokka immediately retreats inward. in “the boiling rock,” sokka demonstrates how his first ever real failure that rests squarely on his own shoulders is so devastating to him that he becomes totally irrational and suicidal in an attempt to “rectify” the situation. he does not know how to cope with failure, because he expects himself to be perfect at all times. and it’s not because sokka is overly proud, but rather that his guilt complex is so profound that he blames himself for every single thing that goes awry at all times, even when it isn’t actually his fault whatsoever. so that guilt and shame is magnified a thousand fold when sokka is actually culpable for those losses.
one of many ways in which it is evident that sokka is the older sibling is that he clearly lives with the mentality that if katara messes up or gets herself in danger due to her own impulsive inclinations, it’s always actually sokka’s fault for not being a better, more attentive brother. when she sets off the booby trap in the banned ship, sokka banishes aang from the village so as to protect katara from herself. when katara experiences the consequences of heedlessly blowing up a factory, sokka gets mad at her for her recklessness, but also immediately finds a way to help her fix this situation, because that’s his job, and in fact, his primary purpose on this earth. this is a dynamic sokka has probably internalized even before he was assigned the role of her sworn protector, because that’s just how being the eldest is.
sokka’s tendency to take responsibility for everyone else’s mistakes and his desire to shoulder everyone else’s pain at all times, coupled with his implicit belief that he, uniquely, cannot afford to mess up ever (if other people make mistakes it’s fine and he can help them fix it, but if he makes mistakes he no longer has a purpose on this planet, goodbye cruel world), definitely indicates that he was held to an incredibly high standard all his life. he expects himself to be able to handle a lot of responsibility with perfect ease because he always has. he isn’t used to making mistakes of any kind. if he puts his mind into learning a new skill, he always masters it within a couple of days, whatever that skill happens to be. unlike katara, sokka is used to things coming easily to him, and what he isn’t used to is failure.
katara and sokka are both exceptional, of course, but in very different ways, and for very different reasons. katara grew up with a lot of external pressure to excel as a waterbender, because she needs to embody her cultural legacy and prove that her mother’s sacrifice was not in vain. it’s an unfathomable burden to place on a child, and the rate at which she improves her waterbending once she is actually given the resources to hone her skills is a testament to her perseverance and untiring dedication. katara becomes the greatest waterbender in the world not because she is a natural prodigy (which is something she bristles at when aang does display prodigious skill), but because she is incredibly determined and no one can outmatch the strength of her heart and unshakable commitment when she is pursuing a goal. as pakku even says, raw talent isn’t everything, and katara’s abilities prove that despite not being “naturally gifted,” hard work and determination is far more important when it comes to excelling in any given domain.
however, if katara’s motivation to be excellent is externally imposed by the tragic circumstances of her life, sokka’s motivations are, at the very least, internally maintained. as aforementioned, i have no doubt that he received a lot of external validation and praise from the adults in his life as a child with a dazzling, brilliant mind. as has been established, sokka is constantly displaying an ability to synthesize new information at a staggering rate, which likely means that before katara had even discovered her ability to waterbend, sokka was probably being fawned over for the impressive rate at which he was picking up new skills as a baby. since pretty much everything (cerebral, at least) comes easily to sokka, i can only imagine that hakoda, who never hesitates to express to his children how proud he is of them, would constantly affirm sokka’s intellect. and by boasting that sokka takes after himself (hakoda also refers to himself as a genius, completely sincerely), he unwittingly plants the first seeds in fostering sokka’s belief that he must be exactly like his father in every way, and that any deviation from hakoda’s image would prove him unworthy. but he will never be the spitting image of hakoda the way that katara is "the spitting image of kanna" because sokka is already the spitting image of kya, if not – perish the thought – his own person entirely.
unlike katara, who spent her whole childhood trying to waterbend by herself with little success (beyond, of course, isolated instances demonstrating her sheer raw power when her bending was being influenced by her incredibly strong and passionate emotions), sokka always felt like he could handle the amount of responsibility he was given, because everything came easily to him. until the day that his life changed forever, and suddenly the stakes were no longer abstract, but tangible and personally devastating. sokka had never learned that it was okay to fail as a child because he never had a reason to, and then suddenly, he could not afford to fail under any circumstances. failure of any kind went from being a (purely hypothetical) blow to the ego, to being something that could directly endanger the lives of his loved ones. and so sokka decides that the only way to not be culpable for his potential failures is to be a martyr.
of course, there are instances in which sokka is proven to be inept, such as on kyoshi island or with piandao, wherein his humility and open-mindedness are put on display and sokka puts aside his own standards of perfection to learn from a master, but i don't think these instances qualify as failures. for one thing, sokka happens to master the forms he is being taught in less than a day, at an unprecedented rate, and thus these initially humiliating blindspots in his knowledge become victories as sokka absorbs new knowledge. sokka is always eager to learn, and willing to acknowledge his lack of expertise in area, humbling himself to learn from others any chance he gets. no, what i mean by "failure" as it relates to sokka's self-perception and ego is not a lack of knowledge, but an inability to protect another. to sokka, his existence is defined by his ability to provide and protect, and thus, a failure is, specifically, when someone gets hurt under his watch. that is what it means to not be able to afford to fail. he is not overly proud (if anything he is overly insecure), but he also understands that the stakes of failure – real failure – are tangible.
so when it comes to failure that carries grave consequences, he would rather be dead than fallible (or, responsible for not adequately protecting his loved ones), one million times over. and so every time someone makes a sacrifice for him, he feels as if he has failed on a fundamental level, because simply being exceptional is not enough, he must also bear the entire world’s suffering alone – as (in his mind) hakoda instructed him to when he left him behind to protect and provide for the village. otherwise he has failed in his promise to be needed, which is his raison d’être. sokka’s complex is very obviously not informed solely by his upbringing as a “gifted kid,” and in fact largely informed by the dehumanizing logic of war as it necessitates sacrifice, but his inability to accept his own fallibility as a product of his self-dehumanization is, at the very least, compounded by his debilitating perfectionism.
thus, katara and sokka's dynamic within their family isn’t “gifted kid and neglected kid,” but rather “two gifted kids who are gifted in different ways, one of those ways being valued more on a cultural level due to its scarcity as a byproduct of genocide.” while katara was put on a pedestal her entire life due to her ability to waterbend, it doesn’t mean that sokka wasn’t put on a pedestal in other ways. if anything, the reason hakoda entrusted a child with the burdens he did was specifically because he put his son on a pedestal. sokka assumes that hakoda didn't think he was capable enough to join his army, but that couldn't be further from the truth. hakoda trusted his thirteen year old son so much that he genuinely thought it best to leave him alone with this duty to defend his village and protect katara at all costs. he didn't leave a single man behind, not even the other teenage boys, because that's how much faith he had in a child to take his responsibilities seriously and perform them competently. and if that decision gave sokka one million different complexes and fucked him up for life, it wasn’t because he wasn’t valued for his abilities, it’s because he was overvalued and given too much responsibility at too young an age.
both he and katara struggled to live up to the expectations placed on them, forced to fulfill the roles of their parents instead of being allowed to exist as children. but crucially, katara sees the injustice in that, and clings to her childhood even as she strives for greatness, and sokka simply doesn't. he's long accepted that injustice, and in fact feels guilty that he cannot better live up to the impossible portrait of an idolized father, an idealized masculinity, an illusory model of the infallible, unshakeable warrior. despite all his achievements and natural giftedness, he nonetheless feels totally inadequate, deeply flawed, and ontologically worthless. perhaps, in a world beyond the pressures of war and its dehumanizing logic, sokka would have internalized the praise he was constantly receiving his whole life for his gifts. but since he was only ever a prodigy in ways that didn’t matter (within that colonized paradigm), he doesn’t actually care about how clever and brilliant and creative and talented and unique and special he is, because that would first require him to see himself as fully human, and he can’t even do that.
#analysis#sokka#katara#katara&sokka#hakoda#kanna#kya#hakoda&sokka#kanna&sokka#kya&sokka#kanna&katara#whew...! 20+ paragraphs about sokka and katara’s childhood. it’s more likely than u think (highly likely at all times)#see but this is why sokka is so clearly a mirror to azula to me#like not just in terms of crippling perfectionism and devastating fear of failure and being a child prodigy who is put on a pedestal#but simultaneously dehumanized etc etc#but also the fact that like. zuko treats her the same way katara treats sokka#he clearly thinks his immediate hostility and aggression towards her is like. him nobly fighting the battle against his tormentor#when that is literally his little sister and she is struggling so much and desperate for support from LITERALLY ANYONE#katara and zuko are like ‘let’s put azula in her place’ and high five#and that’s just so fucking apt because they truly do believe that it’s their duty to put their perfect prodigy siblings ‘in their place’#but those are truly two of the most miserable people on the planet#so to any outside observers it’s just like………. why are you being mean to them they’re literally suicidal and shaking like a leaf#but also everyone already knows that azula is the prodigious gifted sibling bc zuko says it like one million times#so there’s rly no need to argue that#whereas katara loves calling sokka an idiot so i do believe that some clarification is in order#but like. yeah there’s no way sokka was dismissed or neglected as a child#he’s dismissed and neglected by the world at large#but within his tribe he’s like a mini celebrity . he’s their young sheldon (sorry)#anyway im running out of room to write tags but um. perfectionism is a disease get well soon xoxo bye
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But anyway, Stranger Things Steve and Robin story where things are Pretty Bad in Hawkins for a while after season 4, to the tune of regular monster incursions and more bumps and bruises and stitches and possible concussions than generally standard
and maybe six months in, after graduation, as Hawkins has come up with more and more unlikely stories to try and pretend that they're not sitting athwart a rising apocalypse, after Robin has deferred college for a year, if they all even live that long, because she loves Steve with every last corner of her heart and she won't, can't leave him here
and it's been another bumpy week in a string of bumpy weeks, and Steve doesn't have another concussion, thank god, but Mike needed seventeen stitches and Nancy has a new burn scar curling up over her left shoulder--
Robin goes to find Steve somewhere in the middle of the third load of laundry in the house where his parents haven't set foot since the "earthquakes" happened. Where she has her own permanent guest room, but just crawls in with Steve most nights anyway, because she cannot handle going home to face her own parents and their questions and their 'constructive criticism' and their attempts to be helpful any more.
And she just immediately starts pacing, back and forth across the basement while Steve tries to fold yet another fitted sheet that she could definitely be helping him with, and she says,
"So look, I have been having this really crazy idea, and I need you to tell me that it's a crazy idea, and I should just forget it, except that every time I try to think down that path I keep thinking of reasons that it's not a crazy idea, and it's actually a really good idea with very minimal drawbacks, at least in the near or foreseeable future, and if it ever does start to have drawbacks we can just undo it, because Indiana's had a no-fault divorce law since 1973, and all we'd have to do would be filing some paperwork, and you're just looking at me like I'm babbling again."
"Just like it, huh?" Steve asks, eyebrows raised with a little bit of 'really?' and all the affection of his heart, and when she stops, giving him that slightly-desperate look, he adds, "So, who's getting a divorce?"
"Us," Robin says, planting her feet and looking straight at him. "Eventually. Hopefully. Someday."
"Ooookay, kinda worried you're already planning my eventual divorce when I haven't had sex since Vecna showed up," Steve says, still not really sure where this is going but willing to follow the train at least a little farther, and Robin just shakes her head, eyes wide and focused.
"No," she says. "I mean you and me. I think we should get married."
Yeah, that makes about as much sense as anybody's crazy plans these days. Steve misses the days when he would have been too confused to keep up. He's still confused, he just so rarely expects to be anything else any more that it doesn't really make that much of a difference.
"Robin," he says, a whole sentence in one word, and then she's pacing again.
"Look," she says, wringing her hands the way she does when she's actually pretty upset about something. "Look, I know it's a stupid, crazy, stupid idea, and this isn't me coming on to you, you know this isn't me coming on to you, this is actually a really hard and scary thing for me to think about asking, but it's still like fifty times less hard and scary than what we do every week just living in this town and knowing what we know, because one of the things we know about living in this town is how dangerous it is, how many bad things could happen at any time, and-- and-- and--"
"Robin," Steve says again, and puts down the sheet in a heap to get in her path. He doesn't usually cut her off, but when she gets so worked up she runs out of words, that's when it's time to help Robin get back out of her own way. She lowers her hands into his and Steve squeezes them. "Hey. What's going on?"
"I'm scared," Robin says.
"Yeah, me too," Steve agrees, easily, because the sky outside is a hazy sort of blue-green that goes red-purple at night when it's not black, and when rain falls it sometimes leaves streaks of slick grime on everything it touches, and there are bludgeoning weapons and loaded firearms tucked into corners all over this house. He's been scared more on than off since 1983, and he hasn't bothered pretending not know it since '85.
"I'm scared for you," she says. "And I'm scared for me. I'm scared that none of us knew what was up with Nancy at the hospital for two hours the other day, because her mom showed up for Mike and they told her everything and Karen Wheeler hates us."
"Nancy's fine," Steve promises; her left arm's gonna be bandaged for a while, but she can still steady a rifle, and sometimes he thinks that's two-thirds of all Nancy really cares about any more. It's probably close to half of what all any of them have time and space to care about these days, which is a pretty depressing thought. But that's not a forever state of events, right? "She just got a little banged up. She's okay."
"Steve, what happens if you get hurt?" Robin asks. "Like, really hurt? If you get sick, or concussed again, or you need surgery like Max or Eddie, and you're not conscious enough to make your own medical decisions?"
"I don't know, I guess they call my parents, don't get an answer, and then operate anyway," Steve says, blowing it off like he always does. "Robin, I'm fine."
She's shaking her head, though, no, "I've just, I've been thinking, and I've been reading, and you know how hospitals are, it's been happening all over where people get sick and their friends, partners, can't even get in to see them, and families they haven't even talked to in years get to make medical decisions, because they're not married."
And Steve's not exactly smart but he's not completely dumb. Robin leaves absolutely anything that might even suggest she's a lesbian at Steve's house so her parents won't find it at home, which means there's a whole pile of blurry xeroxed zines and pamphlets and gay newsletters on his once-unused bedroom desk, shoved under a Russian-English dictionary, three spiral notebooks, and a book by some guy called Jung-pronounced-Young. Steve isn't really sure where they come from, because they only make maybe one supply run to Indianapolis a week between the whole group of them and Robin doesn't even usually go, but the newsletters keep multiplying. He's glanced at them before. He's heard Robin talk. He knows what she's thinking about.
"That's not what's happening here," Steve says, promises. "You know that's not the same thing. Nobody's getting sick."
"No, just...torn up by demobats, or haunted, or possessed, or who knows what else," Robin says. "Steve, I don't want my parents to be the ones visiting me if I'm in the hospital. I don't want them to be the ones in charge of deciding what happens to me. I don't want to wake up from a coma one day to find out I've been transferred to some hospital in another state because they decided Hawkins was too dangerous and now I never get to see you again."
"So you want me to be the one doing that?" Steve asks, and Robin looks up at him, hands still tight in his, and she says,
"Yes," like it's obvious. Like it's everything.
For one brief, bright-aching moment, Steve lets himself regret. He's not in love with Robin. Not like that, never like that, but -- there was a minute, once, where it could've been, for him. And it never could have been, for her, he knows that, and that's fine, that's great, because Robin still loves him more than anybody else in his entire life has ever loved him. And it is everything, and it's never going to be like that, and probably nobody is ever going to love him like that even half as much as Robin loves him like this.
"Sure," Steve says.
"And -- and look, it's selfish, and it's stupid, and it's terrible and I hate myself for thinking it, but if you die out there, and half of us are basically living in your house, and I know your parents don't want this house but they can't sell it because it's Hawkins and the housing market sucks, and you don't technically own it but it's all tied up in your trust fund, and if we were married that would give us at least the length of a court case to figure out where else to go, and we'd be able to take care of Max, and--"
"Robin, yeah," Steve says. "I'll do it. Sure, let's get married."
"Wait, really?" Steve doesn't know why she sounds so startled when it was her insane idea, unless she really did want to be talked out of it, but if she'd actually wanted to be talked out of it she should've gone to Nancy. Steve's not the guy who talks Robin out of things. He's the guy who talks Robin into her own brilliant ideas and all the things she desperately wants and doesn't think she can have. "Like, really?"
"Yeah, sure, let's go tomorrow," Steve says. It's a Tuesday, the little gremlins'll all be in school and their shift at Family Video doesn't start until five. "Do we need to get, like, a license or something?"
It's not like Steve doesn't get that this is a weird thing to do, and not a thing that most people would do with their platonic lesbian best friends, but honestly...like, Robin hadn't wanted to say it, but Steve knows he's probably more likely to die in the next couple of years than most other people they know. Doesn't matter how much he plays it off, Steve's always going to be there sticking his body between whichever kid or girl or random civilian and the danger of the day. He's not always there, which is how Mike ends up with a gash up his arm that better not be getting infected with Upside Down rot while Karen Wheeler is too busy pretending that Hawkins is still a normal town, how Nancy gets caught in the blowback from a molotov cocktail thrown just a little too short. Sometimes it feels like Steve's blaming himself in the middle of the night for not being there a little more every year. But he tries.
And if it gets him killed, the least he can do is make sure his stupid trust fund goes to Robin instead of back to his fucking parents. He's not dumb enough to think him dying wouldn't wreck at least Robin, at least for a little while, but he has to figure a pile of cash would make it a little better. He doesn't think it would make things worse.
Besides, Steve lets him think for just a second, what if they do actually figure out how to stop Henry Creel and all his Upside Down bullshit? If they find a way out of Hawkins without leaving the kids behind to die, and move on with their lives? Would being super-platonically married to Robin actually be that bad? He could put her through college with that stupid fucking trust fund while she got whatever genius degree she wanted, maybe end up her slacker house husband and fold all the goddamn fitted sheets by himself while she's off at work. Adopt a couple of kids, maybe, if he could talk her into it. Road trip over the summer in that Winnebago.
Not like Robin could marry someone she's actually in love with. He'd make it clear to whatever girlfriend she gets in the future that he's just there as window dressing and live-in laundry service. Not like Steve's ever going to find a girl who loves him half as much as Robin does, who gets it when the nightmares jolt him awake at three in the morning, who'll believe a single thing he says about the waking nightmare that is Hawkins, Indiana.
Really, it just means that Robin can't leave him behind. Which isn't fair to her, maybe, but it's her idea. She'll be the one slapping divorce papers down in front of him if she ever gets tired of it.
"Um, yeah," Robin says, still a little surprised for some fucking reason, but starting to soften into that smile she sometimes gets when they're being sincere, every once in a while. "Yeah, we just need birth certificates and ID, and like ten dollars for the license fee, and we can go right down to the courthouse tomorrow. Be done in time for work."
"Honeymoon at Family Video?" Steve asks, and yeah, maybe it's not the wedding he once would've pictured for himself, but fuck that guy anyway. This is Robin.
"We'll put on Back To The Future and actually watch it this time," Robin says, and she's grinning now, and Steve is starting to grin too, thinking about the bright hazy beautiful parts of a godawful night, the worst best bathroom floor in Indiana, about marrying the who-the-fuck-cares-if-it's-not-actually-romantic love of his life.
"Throw in some popcorn and you've got yourself a deal, Buckley," he says, and Robin lunges forward into him, wrapping her arms around him. Steve's arms fold around her shoulders like she belongs there.
He's almost not even annoyed that they kick over the laundry basket and send the goddamn sheets spilling out over the floor in the process.
#c writes things#stranger things#so um apparently I'm doing THIS now#I feel like this is meant to be a 5 Times story#Five Times Someone Was Surprised To Discover That Steve And Robin Were Technically Legally Married#(at least one of the times the person surprised is Steve)#(look it's been ten years since it seemed relevant okay sometimes he forgets these things)#anyway we'll see if more Stranger Things fic ever appears again but#enjoy!
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Love and Fuff
BitterSweet Trio 
(they’re all dating your honor)
The seasons were changing which means Alphonse changes out all of the plushy‘s on the bed in exchange for the seasonal ones. And this time he recruited his Boo!
So there they sat on the Bed they shared, sifting through varieties of different soft plush toys, while binging episodes of the Mandalorian. Lost in thought that is until Al sees a very familiar plush that caught his attention.
“Holy shit haven’t seen this lil guy in a long fucking time” Sugarboo plops on the bed “Haven’t seen what?-OOoOoO cute bear!” Alphonse held the bear up to get the full view of it “HEY SETH! BABE GET IN HERE AND COME SEE THIS!”
It wasn’t too long before he heard Seth walking down the hallway to the bedroom “Alphonse I swear if your tryin’ to get me to kill another spider I ain’t doing it” he walks into the bedroom and sees the what Alphonse is holding “holy shit”
Sitting inAlphonse’s hands was a very familiar plush bear. The bottom of the belly as well as its legs and paws we’re light pink with a small shine, the top half looks like it was dipped in chocolate and covered in sprinkles, with two cotton candy blue buttons for the eyes. “remember this little guy?”
Seth smiled and sat next to Al on the Bed “of course I do” Sugarboo cocked their head. Seth took the bear in his hands and smiled 
“When Al first came to the city with me he couldn’t sleep straight. It took nearly a week for him to tell me why” “guess I was too embarrassed to admit it was cause-” “You missed your plushies at home” Alphonse smiled and rubbed the back of his neck “so Seth snuck away to the cities mall when he had some free time and picked up this sweet thing and gave it to me as a little present” alphonse leaned up and kissed Seth on the cheek, causing the southern boys face to flush pink.
Sugarboo looked at the tag that was on the Bears foot “goody Bears! I used to collect these when I was little. there part of the reason why I love baking so much” Seth looks around the room at the piles and bins of plushy‘s “what were you guys doing that required all of these?” alphonse sets the bear on his lap before grabbing a handful of beanie babies and throwing them at Seth “seasonal plushy rotation!” Seth almost successfully catches them “why do you have so many of these?” Alphonse face saddens before turning into a soft smile “well…you know…my Ma used to collect um’…she always had a dozen for each season and she’d put them on the mantle  along with the other decorations” seth looks down at the small pile of beanie babies in his lap and looks back up at Alphonse “well then. hand me the bag I’ll start going through um’ you just tell me which ones to put aside”
They rearranged their seating positions, Seth on the left, Alphonse on the right, Sugarboo in the middle.
“Do you wanna put on a movie? I don’t think Seth has seen the Mandalorian yet and I don’t wanna spoil it for him” “Yea. Seth you can pick. Me and Boo are good with pretty much anything” they both look at Seth expectantly. He stares for a moment before scrambling for an answer.  “um..well shit let me think here…. now don’t pick on me for this but..Ya got any of the Muppet movies on these fancy ass streaming services you’ve got?” the corners of Sugarboo‘s mouth start to curl and Alphonse snags the remote off the nightstand “Hell Yeah we’re watching Muppets! Got a specific one ya want Babe?” “yeah um.. they got Muppet treasure Island?” With just a few presses of a button Seth’s movie wishes were granted. 
As the movie played on, the three got more comfortable, nearly abandoning the job that they started. 
Seth’s head laid on Al’s shoulder his eyes growing heavy, Alphonse’s arm was around him gently brushing his fingers through his hair which wasn’t helping him stay awake, the other arm had the little sugarcoated bear from earlier tucked close to his side, Sugarboo was cozied up on top of them nestled under the blanket with a small mountain of plushy‘s weighing on their feet.
As the movie played, and his two partners struggled to stay awake, Alphonse was basking in it 
He looks down at Seth‘s face. The face he has seen bloodied and bruised angry and sorrowful now completely peaceful. Then he looks at his Boo. a face he has seen nearly every day for five years a face he could never imagine going a day without.
And they are both here.
Two of his favorite people in this world, cuddled up in bed watching a movie they’ve all seen 1 million times.
And it’s happy, and it’s warm and it’s peaceful, and God dammit a deadly asteroid could be hurling towards earth at top speed right now, and he wouldn’t give a fuck. because this is where he wants to be 
Slowly, drifting off to sleep in a pile of love and fluff.
————————————————————————
Why does it feel like it’s been forever since I’ve written something for YV.
It got really cheesy at the end and I do apologize for that. this draft has been sitting here for a while so I figured I’d polish it up 
Hope you enjoyed
#sickeningly sweet#kind of cheesy#fluff#yuurivoice fic#yuurivoice seth#yuurivoice alphonse#yuurivoice sugarboo#yuurivoice#bittersweet trio#my fic#no see um writing#I may not know what I’m doing#maybe even cheesy#definitely cheesy
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DAY 5 — Youth
#yeah#the smiths reference#art#creations#jjba#golden wind#jjba part 5#vento aureo#pannacotta fugo#giorno giovanna#haruno shiobana#fugio#fugio week#tried to make my hand writing look like the cute one you see in…#um#kids books I guess#just to add to the juvenileness#ah young love….
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pairing: amuro tooru x reader
summary: he is home late (again) but you love to stay up for him
cw: i would not say suggestive but a lot of kissing implied ? IDK IM SORRY, it’s very short
It wasn’t rare for you to be staying up waiting for him to come home, but tonight he was especially late coming home and he truly did not expect you to still be up. The clock almost ticked 3:30am and he truly wished he didn’t have to stay out so late if he knew you would still be up. He was going to ask why you were still up and tell you about how you should’ve just slept without him, but he knew you would tell him you would be too worried to fall asleep regardless.
“I’m so sorry I was so late,” he said, apologetically. “But really, next time you shouldn’t mind me. It’s far too late.”
“And it’s far too late for you to be out with no one to greet you when you come home,” you replied with a soft smile. Gosh he was in love with you. “Waiting for you to come home is one of my happiest times, at least let me do this much. Besides, it’s a Friday we get to sleep in tomorrow.”
And you were absolutely correct. Although he’d tell you every single time to go ahead and sleep, it still warmed his heart when he saw you reading a book or scrolling through your phone with a warm tea, waiting for him to come home. The way your face would brighten up when he came home was truly the only thing that could heal him from a long day at work.
“I’ll hop in the shower real quick, so go to sleep okay? It’s still not good to be up this late,” he said as he took off his coat and put his stuff down, getting ready to step into the bathroom.
“Wait,” you said, almost subconsciously.
“What is it, love?”
“Oh, um,” you said, you hadn’t meant to say it out loud. You looked up at him slightly embarrassed. “....kiss?”
A faint blush covered his face as his eyes narrowed and lips pursed. He did not understand how you managed to make his heart flutter from such simple words after all this time, but he did understand that this wasn’t going to go away. He walked right back to you and pressed a kiss on your lips. He was going to kiss you again when he resisted the temptation and kissed you on your forehead instead.
“Why not?” you asked quietly. You were going to kill him if you kept this up.
“Because I’m not going to be able to stop at this rate,” he said, but you went and kissed him instead.
“But I don’t want you to...” you said. That was it, he was giving in. Saving the country was a whole lot easier of a challenge than the ones you gave him it seemed.
“Okay, now you’ve done it,” he said, kissing you again.
The shower will have to wait a little.
#furuya rei x reader#amuro tooru x reader#amuro x reader#furuya rei#amuro tōru#amuro tooru#detective conan x reader#NOTTTTT PROOFREAD#i sat down at like 2am and dumped whatever words would come out of me#so truly if i wake up and this is literally the most horrid thing ive written in my life please forgive me#um i am BACK !!!!#ALSO I SEE THE ASKS I PROMISE I WILL GET TO THEM#THEY ARE COMIGN#I AM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THEM ACTUALLY#I HOPE TO FINISH ALL OF THEM WHILE IM IN WINTER BREAK SO HOPEFULLY WITHIN THE NEXT FEW WEEKS THEY WILL BE WRITTEN#THANK U SO SO MUCH FOR READING I HOPE U ENJOYED#im sorry this is so short so consider it a drabble i was going to make it a blurb but it is past blurb length i fear
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All That's Left follows two journalists and their friends in post-apocalyptic United States as they travel from the fallen east coast megalopolis Opportunity back to Los Angeles, crossing through a harsh wasteland overrun with zombies— only to find out that there is a lot more life left than what the protected cities want them to believe. On their journey they meet dozens of people living their lives as peaceful as possible away from military forces, corporations, and corrupt governments; and they learn that the same mutated ghouls that took down Opportunity are spreading rapidly through the country, destroying everything in their path.
Will this finally be the end of the world as we know it?
taglist (opt in/out)
@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart;
@vvanessaives, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;
@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;
@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree
#all that's left#edit:misc#nuclearedits#so um. hi. this is an original story i've been working on since 2016 and i love it so so much. sorry#it's not a tv show but i would love for it to be a tv show do you understand. my vision. are you seeing the vibes of this#it's BRIGHT. it's COLORFUL. it's FUN. there's so many cool characters and it's focused a lot on like#the connections between the main characters and all that#mac and layla (the journalists) go from having to write about this megalopolis which. if anything is just. a city version of a nepo baby#to writing about the people who are still living out there who are being completely overlooked by the safe cities and everything#everything really is not that bad out there!! in fact all of the misery that IS still in the wasteland is created specifically by like#the safe cities who keep snatching away supply drops from people who need it etc etc. and governments pretending that#there's no smaller settlements out there anymore and all that#and also there's zombies. ghouls. i call them ghouls but they have many funky names across the whole world in this universe#anyway yeah there's a lot more to this universe already because well 8 years in the making LMAO so i have another edit incoming#for the fictional season 2. aka book 2. yes there's a book 2. there's also a book 3 and 4. sorry for being insane#the linked playlists has songs for book 1-3 right now :]#if you have any questions PLEAAASSEEEE send me asks. preferably asks and not dms because tumblr dms suck ass#but i would love to talk more about this :^)
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my attempt at lily versions
#wolfgang amadeus mozart#antonio salieri#fate grand order#fgo#my art#ok listen i know literally no one besides me cares about how these are two different centuries#but you see salieri's thing with this to last ish century suits makes putting him in a 18th century clothes looking weird#i figure that 19th is a good middle ground and plus he like. died in that century anyway so close enough#well actually im not sure when that style of coat became a thing. the outer one i mean but whatever#also they still had knee ish length in 19th century but the visual connection with modernish suits also makes it looking weird on him but#but! the longer boots make a similar shape to it and#um anyway#amade is eepy cuz um idk he writes about being tired lmao#<-- the most normal fan of these guys#did a very normal amount of reading on them. also this might be bringing out my mild interest in historical clothes just a little bit#well its not like i *have to* put them in historical clothes its not like this gacha game is very historical...#bwa wrong i do have to and the reason is brainrot
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