okay i meant to make this post forever ago but my personal opinion on why so many people were so dissatisfied with lightfalll (disclaimer: i am not one of these people, i love lightfall SO much), is that lightfall was kind of subjected to a really aggressive marketing campaign.
like, stick with me here, i feel like almost all the lightfall release content (the trailers especially) were so focused on battling the witness, how this battle has been centuries in the making and this is the Second Collapse Finally Finding Us, only for there to be,,, no real resolution. the end was left on such a severe cliffhanger, but not only that, there was NO battle with the witness. the witness didn't even seem to be having a hard time at all with what we WERE throwing at it.
and for narrative reasons *i* am obsessed with this ending; in terms of storytelling i adore practically every creative decision that was made in lightfall, but i think the reason that so many people were so upset about it is because lightfall had such intense marketing and was rooted in the implication that this was the End of Days, only for us to get almost no closure, and instead so many more questions.
(there's also something to be said, i think, about the fact that the people who ARE most upset about this are like, the youtube gamer dudebros who's content is very very often rooted in the aggressive, violence-and-warfare, pvp-centric, no-interest-in-lore approach to destiny, and that the people i've seen primarily ENJOYING the narrative decisions (or at least being understanding about it) are the artists and writers and loremasters of the fandom, but i'm not quite sure,,, how to expand on that point.)
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I'm still thinking about vampire Usopp w/sanuso btw, just like
Sanji insisting Usopp come to him whenever he's hungry, for multiple reasons, but primarily bc he's the cook, it's his job to keep his cremates fed above everything else. And Usopp going along with it, asking for blood around the same times he used to ask for food. Thinking Sanji would tell him if he ever took too much.
Sanji, however, is a fool. A very kind, but large fool. He doesn't tell Usopp when he's taking too much or too frequently. In fact their whole arrangement barely lasts a few weeks before Sanji collapses in the middle of food prep.
Like, just the idea of the guy who gives and gives and, yeah it feels nice to give, but can't fathom the idea that there are others on the crew able to do the same. That he doesn't have to give until there's nothing left.
Idk just. Physical manifestation of his problems with accepting unconditional love without having to give anything to earn it. As in, the more he gives without bounds, the more he's literally killing himself.
And then. And then.
Usopp coming into the galley, ready to sheepishly ask for a snack, just like before this whole thing, and finding Sanji on the floor.
And he yells for Chopper before looking Sanji over. Coming to the realization that this was him- this was his fault. He took too much. Asked for too much. Asked too much of Sanji.
And he's just kicking himself the whole time, telling himself it was stupid to ever think Sanji- Sanji of all people- would ever deny him a chance to fill his belly.
He comes to the conclusion he can't ask Sanji for blood anymore. He can't ask anyone for blood anymore. He couldn't risk this happening again. To any of them.
After Sanji got a transfusion and isn't at risk of falling over anymore, he and Usopp begin an agonizing back and forth routine.
Sure, Sanji can't give blood for a while- doctor's orders- but there are some rather big fish in the aquarium, and Usopp has always loved the taste of fish. He drains the blood out of a few, stores the excess in the fridge, and offers a glass to Usopp to make up for the lunch portion he never got.
Usopp says something or other about grabbing a bite from a sea king earlier and waves him off. Sanji frowns but doesn't say anything.
And this same bit continues and continues and continues, until Sanji puts his foot down. Literally.
Kicks Usopp's ass to the galley. Has an infuriating conversation with him. Continues to try and get him to drink. Ends up coming to a conclusion that Usopp only liked drinking blood from the source. A passing thought making him consider that there was only one source- one person he'd drink from.
Usopp- tired and fuzzy and hungry, so so hungry- is trying his damnedest to keep Sanji satisfied with lies he doesn't have the energy to make believable. He's trying and trying but Sanji is bulldozing through each one, not taking no for an answer and-
Is it me? Sanji asks, his voice far, far too hopeful. Do you only want to drink from me?
And if Usopp wasn't tired- wasn't literally starving and finding it hard to keep his thoughts from slipping away- he would examine that voice. That tone. Run through his own daydreams with different words, different contexts, being implied with those words.
But he is tired. And he is starving. And he needs to get a grip before he wavers even more in his resolve.
And so, it's surprising yet all too expected when Usopp declares Sanji's blood as the nastiest thing he's ever tasted. Says he never wants to get within smelling distance anymore, it's that bad. Too late, he realizes his smelling distance, now, covers the entirety of the ship and then some.
Sanji stays silent. Usopp contemplates taking it back. He doesn't.
Casually, Sanji reaches over to his knife block. Despite his current status as a member of the undead, Usopp fears for his life. He wonders if Sanji was just as skilled with a knife as Zoro was with his swords and desperately hopes that's not the case. Aloud, he tries to calm Sanji down while subtly trying to put distance between them.
Without any warning, practically without sound, Sanji tilts his head and cuts a thin line near the juncture from his neck to his shoulder. And all of a sudden, Usopp's filled with another, far more terrifying, kind of fear.
It's just like Boin, Usopp, he thinks to himself, eyes glued to the spot where dark red beads of blood well up on pale skin. Just like Boin.
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@bedeviled-pelican i am choosing to believe the bird and sword makes this a tenlark prompt ;)
22. "Do you trust me?" "I don't know."
Lark paces outside Tenar's makeshift room. The house around her is chaos, filled to the brim with shouted orders and the clang of hammer on metal. They're not soldiers. This is no armory. And yet they're preparing for war all the same.
We could leave, Arren had said, the night before they'd snuck their way back into the city at Tenar's side. What do we owe Erathia, anyway? We could leave, and Tenar could come with us, and we wouldn't have to die for any of this.
But Tenar wouldn't leave. Never, not for anything. And Lark is realizing more and more lately that she would never leave Tenar.
So here they are, gearing up for battle again. And here she is, standing outside Tenar's door, trying and failing to work up the courage to knock.
It doesn't come. She raises a fist and knocks anyway.
"Enter," Tenar says, regal and commanding even without throne and crown. Lark can do nothing but obey.
"Lark." The greeting is less formal. She even dares to think she hears warmth in Tenar's voice. But it does nothing to calm the turmoil in her gut, the way her instincts scream at her that something is going to go wrong. "I thought you were readying the horses."
"I am. I--I did. I--" Lark stops and forces herself to take a breath. "I wanted to talk to you."
"Then speak." The order is belied by the softness in Tenar's eyes. Lark feels panic claw its way up her throat.
"Don't do this."
Tenar pauses. Lark stares at her, helpless, ashamed. Desperate.
"What do you mean?" Tenar's voice is cooler now.
Lark closes her eyes. "I just...wonder if we've considered all options."
"You're questioning the plan."
"No." Because she's not, really. It's a good plan. Probably the best we have. She just...doesn't like it.
"Then what are you saying, Lark?"
Oh, there's danger in her voice now. Just a hint of the anger she only rarely allows herself to show. Lark's knees shake. She looks up again, ready and willing to drown in the fire she knows will be blazing in Tenar's eyes.
"I am worried."
"About what?"
You.
The word dies in Lark's throat. Too honest, too dangerous, and entirely too much to lose if things go wrong today. So she swallows it back.
"The plan."
She watches frustration boil over in Tenar's gaze, and she braces herself.
"You helped make the plan," Tenar says shortly.
"I know."
"Then what's wrong with it?"
"Do you have to do this?" Lark says, finally letting go of some of her own restraint. "This--it's dangerous, Tenar. You're risking your life just for--"
"Just for my kingdom. My people. All the things I was born to protect."
"You can't protect Erathia if you're dead."
"Do you think me so incapable?" Tenar snaps.
"No," Lark says softly, unwilling and unable to rise to Tenar's anger. "I think the odds are against us."
Tenar takes a breath. "That's going to be true no matter what."
"I know. But that doesn't--you don't--"
"Do you trust me?"
Lark meets her eyes. "I don't know."
It's not true. She trusts Tenar with her life, would gladly give her own for her, would follow her into death and whatever lies beyond happily if Tenar said it was the right move.
She just can't bear the idea of letting her run into this alone, and losing her along the way.
Tenar stares back at her, stunned and blatantly hurt, and Lark wants to take it back. But before she can even open her mouth to speak, Tenar turns her back on her.
"Well, we have no choice," she says, and her voice is clear and commanding again, a princess--a queen, even, if they make it through the day--and nothing more. "This is our best chance. Whether you believe in me or not doesn't matter. I have my part to play, and you have yours."
"Ten--"
"Go, Lark. You have preparations to make."
Lark closes her eyes, but she is helpless, as always, to do anything but obey.
"Yes, Your Highness," she murmurs. And then she's gone, hurrying out of the room before she can make this worse.
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