omg are u an iroh hater?? IROH HATERS UNITEE i hate that old man
well. i am an iroh hater. but also its actually that iroh is one of my favorite characters of all time. however comma i specifically like iroh because hes a moderate to severe piece of shit and a medium bad uncle. i love how he has a “facade” to dismantle. i love how he has traits outside of being zukos uncle while at the same time the way he parents zuko is obviously connected to the kind of guy he is and the way his stupid brain works. i dont think iroh would be half as memorable as a character as he is if he was truly just the do gooding all wise old man that people perceive him as.
i hate how the writers and fandom treat him like a hoity toity paragon of virtue that was done wrong by zuko and azula and whatever as if hes not a grown ass man thats done everything they did in canon but probably several times over and maybe even worse because hes like. in his 50s-60s and the siege of ba sing se is definitely not the only thing on his track list. i believe in elder abuse when its iroh i think azula shooting him in the chest was frankly hilarious and i think zuko turning on iroh for azula was something iroh had no right to be surprised by and i also think he owed zuko an apology in turn during sozins comet.
i like how hypocritical he is. i like how he continuously misunderstands zuko. i like how even after his so called spiritual journey or whatever that he still sometimes fails to recognize his own behavior and it in turn negatively effects his relationship with zuko because he keeps pushing morals and ideals onto zuko, when he doesnt even fully adhere to those morals and ideals himself. i like how he hates azula despite the facts that 1. shes 14 2. ozai is her dad 3. shes literally his mini me in so many ways. hes elusive and wobbly with morals when he really shouldnt be considering hes trying to nurture the most unstable teenage boy in the whole world.
but like at the same time i also deeply love zuko and azula so i get deeply frustrated with him on their behalf. everytime i watch book three and analyze his and zukos interactions i wanna bang my head against a wall until i die
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Someone makes a choked, shocked sound. Someone else yelps. It occurs to Ace, somewhere between the howling in his ears and the ache in his lungs and the taste of salt and iron flooding his mouth, that this is probably pretty surprising for his brothers to witness. Maybe even downright upsetting.
The thing is, Ace was wading into the jungles on his own as early as four years old. Dadan taught him how to do basic shit like talk and wipe his ass, but he honestly didn't have a ton of human interaction before meeting Sabo. And the thing about Sabo was that he had more than enough human interaction for the both of them. Ace learned some manners from Makino, but while Sabo was still around, there wasn't really any reason to get... good, at people.
But then Sabo died, and Ace needed to teach himself not only to talk his way out of trouble but also how to be the nice brother, how to treat Luffy with the softness he needed and deserved, how to gentle his hands and his voice and his words. So Ace did that, because he needed to, and it turned out to actually be pretty useful for dealing with people when he wasn't actively looking for a fight. So he stuck with it.
Which is all to say that by the time he'd joined up with Whitebeard, Ace was as close to tame as he had ever been. Almost downright domesticated.
Ace snaps his head to the side, putting some real momentum into it, heaving with all his weight until something tears. When he drops to his feet he springs right back up again, lunging. He spits out his mouthful as he goes, lets his jaw drop open.
The thing is, Ace is a child of the wilderness. He raised himself among that wilderness, and then he raised Luffy among that wilderness. He's a son of the jungle at heart, no matter how good he's gotten at pretending to be a person.
The sea-stone cuffs are chaffing his wrists. He feels tired and heavy, but he doesn't need his fire to be dangerous. Doesn't even need his hands.
Teeth find an artery. Body-hot blood sprays his face as Ace bites down, lock-jawed and snarling. Rears back and rips.
Another marine goes down. Ace spits out a chunk of the man's throat and is already rounding on a third. Notices, with a vague annoyance, that he's gonna need to find a toothpick -- there's a scrap of tendon or something caught in his teeth.
Mmm. Boar. They had pork for dinner, ah, the other night? Three days ago? Something like that, but it doesn't taste the same as wild boar does. And anyway, meat on the Moby is always overcooked. Ace is allowed to eat blue steak, but everybody always yells at him when he tries to steal bites of poultry or Sea King or whatever else while it's still tender and bleeding. This fight is giving Ace a real craving!
Duck. Lunge. Bite down, hard, thunder of a rabbit-quick pulse against his tongue, bulge of tender flesh against his soft palate. Iron and salt in his mouth.
Fear has a flavor. It is bitter and acrid, reminiscent of char, and Ace hadn't liked it much when he was young and still learning how to hunt. It stiffens up the meat, too, makes it kinda chewy. Somewhere along the line, he'd acquired a taste for it, though. He still marks it as a point of pride, his ability to hunt and kill prey without it ever knowing he was there, roasting something that is tender-sweet and gives easily under his teeth -- but the taste of fear isn't so bad either. Sometimes he even prefers it, gets a craving for it. Like wild boar, he hasn't had it in a while. Maybe he'll chase down his own dinner tonight.
Ace rears back. Muscle fibers split, skin stretches until it snaps. A heave, and a body crumples to the ground, gurgling. He gnaws kind of idly on his mouthful while he catches his breath, snorting blood out of his nose and straining his ears. Sounds like the fight's over, then.
Another lump of trachea gets spat into the dirt. Ace turns to face his brothers, counting heads -- good, it looks like nobody got hurt too bad, everybody is still standing! He grins. Ah, they're all pretty pale though, that's a little bit concerning, he hopes nobody's in shock. He learned from Marco that that can happen to anybody, even if they've been in a whole lot of fights.
"Hey!" Ace chirps. "Is everybody okay?" His wrists are killing him. Also, he really needs a shower. He's got blood in his ears, how the hell did that happen? But first he jogs over to where the others are all standing, clumped together, still just. Kinda staring at him.
Okay. Concerning. "You guys alright?" He asks again, lower. "Is anybody hurt? What happened?"
"Ace, man," Deuce says. His voice sounds kind of shaky. He drags a hand through his hair, fucking it up even worse than it already is. "What the fuck was that?"
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