#[ arc. 「 one. 」 i’m hungry and hollow and just want something of my own. ]

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Whole Cake Island

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano

sanji is such a self-sacrificial idiot. and i know that’s not exactly a ground-breaking statement, but it does define the entire first half of whole cake island, so it may as well be reiterated here: sanji does not value his own life as much as he should, and fails to grasp that other people care about him outside of what he can offer them, which is why he’s so surprised when luffy later comes charging headlong into big mom’s territory.

zou is a really good little arc, and it also mirrors the themes of whole cake island in miniature. the minks collectively make a massive sacrifice and risk absolutely everything to protect raizou, and wci is essentially all about loyalty and sacrifice, whether its sanji giving himself up to protect the strawhats and zeff or luffy and the strawhats facing impossible odds to rescue him to pedro giving up his life to get them all out of there safe.

huge fan of this panel partly just because it’s cute and partly because it’s a great visualization of just how dysfunctional the heights are in one piece.

zou is one of my favorite settings in one piece just for the sheer creativity of it. zunesha is so massive and so mysterious and so strange. and she really looks unspeakably old just from how she’s drawn, looming over everyone and everything, eyes hollow and empty, an entire forest and an entire people growing on her back that have been there for thousands of years. it’s just so neat and so wildly inventive.

this applies to zou as a whole, but i think it’s really cool how all the little threads that will become important during wano are set up so effectively even before whole cake island starts. we get this shot here of kidd beat to shit and then forget it because so much happens between here and when he shows up again in wano, but then oda punks us into caring about him and killer so much and this retroactively becomes very important.

ever since his introduction sanji’s always been a character basically defined by his adherence to his principles: always feeding the hungry, never wasting food, never hurting women, never using his hands in combat. he’s probably the most firmly principled person on the crew, and that’s more obvious in whole cake island than in any other arc except maybe baratie.

sanji is very stubbornly good, which puts him in acute contrast to his siblings and their general cruel apathy. it’s something i really like about him.

i’m a huge fan of big mom’s introduction, which is also our introduction to tottoland in general. it’s cutesy and colorful and musical while simultaneously being deeply creepy, with lyrics about killing people for ingredients and making jam out of blood, which is a great summary of the core of big mom’s character. she’s an old lady all in pink who lives in a cartoon fairy-tale land- but she’s also a deranged cannibal, and all those singing trees and flowers are animated by the life she steals from her citizens as tax.

whole cake island draws on a lot of fairy tale motifs (especially with brulee), and the contrast that saccharine appearance creates with how fucked up the actual content is is super effective and memorable, i think.

honestly i find most of the content of sanji with the vinsmokes just plain upsetting, which i’m sure is intentional, so i’m not going to go into it a lot here, but i am including this panel of him kicking niji in the face.

sad as this scene turns out, luffy’s absolute thrill at finding sanji and the corresponding bafflement of the vinsmokes as to how the fuck he even got there always kinda makes me grin.

i always love seeing people’s underestimations about luffy get thrown right the hell out the window- because let’s be honest, he’s easy to underestimate, he’s like a five and a half foot tall rubber teenager and not very physically intimidating and all, and then he goes and pulls off the impossible without blinking.

the thing that makes luffy unique as a captain has always been his willingness to rely on his crew, and his willingness to openly admit that reliance, like he did all the way back in arlong park. most of the other contenders for the pirate king’s crown we’ve seen- big mom, kaidou, crocodile once upon a time- have been stubbornly individualistic people who explicitly shown not to care for their crew and allies, generally seeing them as disposable.

luffy is the opposite of all of them, because his crew are everything to him, to the point of being willing to sacrifice his dream for them. and the loyalty he wins from them in return is unmatched, as opposed to big mom and kaidou, who both get cheerfully betrayed not just by their own crewmates but by their own children.

brook is really cool in whole cake island, and honestly it comes at just the right time for him as a character. ever since his introductory arc in thriller bark until this point he hasn’t gotten a ton of focus, so it’s great that he gets to be the mvp here and demonstrate exactly why he’s a strawhat pirate and how much he’s grown over the timeskip.

oda is generally really good at introducing and handling characters contained to a single arc/saga, but i do think he absolutely knocked it out of the park with pedro. he has an interesting backstory, compelling motivations, and basically an entire sub-arc ending in his death that never distracts from the main plot, but only ever adds to it.

pedro really feels like a fully realized character who’s had a whole life offscreen, who we just happened to catch at the very end of his story. i think that’s super impressive.

i really love this moment, because for me, this is the moment where whole cake island becomes a tremendous arc, and where the tides begin to turn and the dominoes begin to fall, one after the other. this is sanji hitting absolute rock bottom. the one ray of light he pinned all his hopes on was a lie, and he can’t even light a fucking cigarette.

but one piece is, very often, a story about picking yourself up even when you feel like you can’t.

i think there’s something lovely about how much one piece emphasizes the value of honestly asking for help. luffy waits for nami to ask for help, and for robin to say she wants to live, and for sanji to admit he just wants to go home, and then says, “okay, i’ll make that happen.”

it just makes me so happy how happy the stawhats are to know sanji’s back with them. it reminds me a lot of how they all brush off robin’s thanks after enies lobby. sure, they’re going to have to crash the wedding and confront big mom directly and might all die, but who cares? they’ve got sanji back. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, i love how much they love each other.

i think the gangster outfits are super fun, and i love that oda is committed enough to his aesthetics to come up with an excuse to put them all in formalwear. it pays off, they all look extremely snappy.

i know i just said it in the dressrosa posts but i’m reiterating it here because this is my favorite example of it by far: i love when oda does this split-screen thing with his panels. the contrast between the two halves of pudding is so severe and yet they’re so clearly the same person i honestly just find this pair of panels fascinating to look at.

this panel also kind of gets at my favorite thing about pudding as a character, really. i know she’s a little controversial in fandom, but i’ve always found her entertaining (at least post-reveal), especially in the contrast between her unhinged evil side and her genuinely sweet romantic side and her post-wedding tendency to randomly ping-pong between the two.

i just always like reminding people that sanji is fast enough and his observation haki good enough to dodge a surprise attack, while thoroughly distracted, from katakuri.

sanji in this arc tends to get shit from a certain side of fandom for being ‘useless’ since he doesn’t have a big climactic fight despite being the focus of the arc, which i think is thoroughly missing the point. sanji is still plenty capable in combat, as demonstrated both here and later, with chiffon and oven. it just happens that his strength isn’t what saves the day ultimately, because combat ability isn’t everything, which is the entire point of the vinsmoke backstory/subplot. sanji saves the day just by being kind.

i’ll admit big mom’s flashback isn’t one of my favorites, taken in isolation- there are some parts of it that kind of unresolved (at least as of now- i still suspect they’ll be followed up eventually), and in general, although there is a tragedy to it, it doesn’t quite hit the way many of the other more effective flashbacks do. that said, i do think it does a really good job of succinctly explaining why big mom is the way she is in the present: she’s a child who was never told no, who never grew or matured past the disappearance of her adopted mother. that’s it, and that’s enough.

i’ve always been a little bit in love with how seriously and consistently one piece handles its themes of found family, and sanji outright disowning judge in whole cake island is maybe the most outright they ever get: family is found, not made. you owe nothing to your blood and are never beholden to your abusers.

and i just like that a whole lot.

i do think the tamatebako is one of the best uses of chekov’s gun i’ve ever seen. we’re first shown it at the end of fishman island, it’s revealed it got sent off to big mom rigged with explosives which is a minor “oh fuck” moment, and then it gets forgotten about, because the entirety of punk hazard and dressrosa happens in between! which is a lot!

i remember when i reached the moment in whole cake island where we’re reminded that that bomb still exists and is still waiting to explode, i just started laughing hysterically out loud, because i’d completely forgotten, and now that i remembered i was just delighted to know it was going to definitely go off at some point, almost certainly in a very satisfying way.

pedro is, if i remember right, the first time the imagery of the coming dawn that will become quite important in wano really has attention drawn to it in-text- the recurring motif is there before this, of course, dating all the way back to the names of the first chapter (romance dawn) and first island (dawn island), but this is the first time it’s actively addressed in-story.

in doing so, oda essentially presents a fresh mystery for us, but one that has been set up so consistently ever since chapter one that it feels like it fits perfectly into the world and story.

luffy’s been punching way above his weight class ever since crocodile all the way back in alabasta, fighting enemies who clearly outmatch him but always managing to win anyways, but his fight with katakuri is maybe the clearest the sheer differential in strength ever gets, because katakuri’s powers are similar enough to luffy’s that he can pull off pretty much all of luffy’s techniques, but better. so luffy has to fall back on the two things that have always been his greatest strengths, again all the way back to crocodile in alabasta: innovation and sheer fucking stubbornness.

one thing i love about one piece is how no character is immune to being clowned on. absolutely nobody. everybody looks like an idiot sometimes, and it makes everything so much more fun than if the series took itself more seriously. katakuri basically actively tries to avert this by building up a fearsome, flawless, and utterly no-nonsense persona, but it winds up failing hard because it actually only makes the contrast and surprise of his actual personality and vices that much funnier.

i’ve always loved this one panel of carrot going sulong, because she just looks so monstrous, like a true werewolf. the same goes for the shift in big mom’s design when she starts going truly mad with starvation and gets even more threatening-looking (below). i just think oda should let women be monstrously scary more often.

i do really love that the entire climax of whole cake island hinges on the degree of trust and faith the strawhats, and sanji and luffy specifically, have in each other. they’re all facing massive challenges that would seem insurmountable to an outsider- luffy facing down a yonkou’s commander with a bounty of over a billion and sanji remaking a massive cake that took months to plan and make in just a few hours, the others evading big mom’s full forces and big mom herself for a full night- but none of them have even a shred of doubt that the others can manage it.

i wrote a meta post awhile back about one piece’s concept of ‘honor in a pirates’ fight, and what it came down to is this: honor can never be expected between pirates, but the best of them will show it anyways, and it can be a very telling judge of character. nobody would expect katakuri to do this, and luffy even calls him an idiot for it, but he has enough respect for luffy as a strong opponent to do it anyways, and that’s how we know for absolute certain that even though he’s an antagonist, he’s also a good, honorable person.

i really like the gesture of luffy leaving his hat over katakuri’s mouth, especially because until this point, we’re never even given any indication that he’s really noticed it, let alone that katakuri is insecure about it. he never reacts to or comments on it (which is in itself kind of unusual from someone who tends to nickname opponents by their appearances as often as luffy does) one way or another.

and then he does this, confirming all at once that he did fully notice and understand, he just doesn’t care. which i think sums up one of the more under-appreciated aspects of luffy’s character- he’s generally way more observant than people give him credit for, especially when it comes to people, it’s just that he has a very different sense of what’s important and what’s not than your average person.

i love the sheer contrast between big mom’s delighted, rapturous singing as she devours the wedding cake against the violence taking place on screen as her army rains fire and hell down on the thousand sunny. it parallels her initial introduction at the start of the arc perfectly, and is just an excellent way to close out the arc with a bang.

i said it earlier but it bears repeating here, for a different reason: luffy is not very physically intimidating. he’s shorter than most of the other main characters, he’s a lanky teenager, he dresses casually and his most identifiable accessory is a farm hat.

but then there are times when he looks like a captain, like a future pirate king, and it just looks so natural on him. i can never get over it.

i really like that, after spending a whole arc demonstrating just how different (and how much better) sanji is than the vinsmokes, it ends like this- showing us just how similar he’s grown up to the man he’s chosen as his real family, and just how proud zeff would be of him.

#the voyage so far #one piece #opmeta #arc: whole cake island #arc: zou #long post #not japanese

[letitrainathousandflames]

ANON I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. You are NOT being rude and you, in fact, just pulled me out of a writer’s block?? I love you so much??? AAAAA???

So this right here is the setting, okay? Think of it as, collecting each part of this lovely lovely trio to then just be worried about finding a big enough bed later okay?

PLEASE BULLY ME INTO CONTINUING IT LATER AS WELL!

-

Rating: Explicit

Category: Multi | F/M/M/M

Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008)

Relationship: Reader/Rex, Reader/Cody, Reader/Wolffe, Reader/Cody & Wolffe & Rex

Character: CT-7567 | Rex, CT-2224 | Cody, CT-3636 | Wolffe, Reader Character

Additional Tags: clone smut, public sex, exhibitionism kink, slow burn but it’s more like medium rare? bc we want that Meat lmao, interrupted sexytimes bc duty calls, part 1/???, literally just writing as i go, as the saying goes - we’ll fuck on that bridge when we come to it, no beta we die like men

The 79’s may be loud, rowdy and a bit crowded, but it’s where the best eye candy in the republic comes to drink and chill. Bless the Republic for having an entire army of insanely hot men. Each one of the clone troopers is beautiful in their own particular way, and if you could ever stop being a shy disaster and just talk to any of them, maybe you could get to know more about them, have a fun night together and even…

You blow a few bubbles into the straw in your colorful drink, feeling the heat that travels up to your face just at the thought of getting handsy on one of them. Well, a girl can dream, right?

A man dressed in white-and-blue armor walks up to the bar, standing right next to you and speaking loudly to the bartender to make himself heard over the music.

“That neon-green thing, just like the lady’s, whatever this is.” he asks, discreetly pointing at you with his eyes still on the barman and chuckling “The whole deal, even the tiny umbrella; I’m celebrating tonight. No wounded, no dead. All my boys got back home.”

The bartender smiles wide at him, busying themself with the bottles. The clone trooper must have felt your gaze on him, because he turns to you with a small smile that makes you heart jump; moons above, he’s handsome. His hair is buzzed short and is of a light blond shade – unusual for a clone. There’s a blue leather pauldron over his shoulder, and a black kama trimmed with blue hanging from his hips; from what you’ve heard, these meant the clone was a high-rank officer, either an ARC trooper or a Commander. You would be lying if you said that didn’t make him even hotter.

You can tell he must be broad and strong even out of the armor, and you flash your tongue over your lips by reflex. Oh. Oh no, you are crushing hard on this man and you don’t even know his name. The barman sets his order down, the clone picks it up and this is your last chance to say anything before this man turns away with his drink and you never see each other again-

“Cheers!” you blurt out, raising your glass at him

The clone turns around to look at you, looking slightly confused.

“Excuse me?”

“C-Cheers.” You repeat weakily “For your men. You said you were celebrating, right?”

The man smiles wide, and there’s nothing you can do to stop yourself from falling for him now.

“Right. Cheers.” He clinks his glass against yours, takes a sip and hesitates for a moment before continuing “I’m Captain Rex, pleased to meet you. And, uh… what’s your name?”

You introduce yourself and Rex looks at you for a few seconds, mouth opening and closing at first like he’s still considering what he’s going to say. Then…

“Mind if I sit here?” he gestures at the barstool next to yours

“Not at all!” you say, painfully aware of how eager you just sounded; Rex sits down, eyeing his own colorful drink curiously “So… captain. I don’t think I’ve ever met a high rank officer before. Rare sight around here.”

Rex tries a sip from his drink to then look pleasantly surprised, taking another before setting down his glass.

“Probably because we spend most of the time buried in paperwork.”

You spend one of the nicest nights you’ve had in a long time with Rex, talking about the bar, life in coruscant and in the army, funny stories from Rex’s job and yours, and the two of you have a lot of fun trying to pick the drinks with the weirdest colors and hoping they taste good.

By the end of the night you exchange contacts, and from then on you would often meet Rex at the 79’s for some drinks and kissing that would often turn into feeling each other up while making out in a less busy corner of the bar.

One night, the two of you are kissing by the dance floor when commander Cody walks up to the both of you, ignoring the men and women swooning at him along the way and stopping close to the two of you.

“Hey, Cody.” Rex smiles at him to then acknowledge his nod at you, telling him your name and introducing him to you in return “This is Cody, commander of the 212th.”

“Nice to meet you.” you smile back at Cody as the three of you dance absently to the music

You take a few moments to notice the similarities and differences between the two clones. Cody has a large scar branding the left side of his face, and his hair is black, shaped in the standard haircut most clones have, and he doesn’t have the few scattered freckles you had noticed on Rex’s cheeks and nose. But their eyes are of the same golden-brown shade, their lips full and inviting, their hollow cheeks and strong jawlines just perfect.

At one point Cody steals a glance at Rex, smirking, and Rex looks from him to you and back to him for a few beats, wetting his lips and then nodding. Cody slowly moves his hand over to your waist without touching you yet, eyes looking at you as if asking for permission.

You look at Rex with a puzzled look on your face and Rex moves in closer, pressing a kiss to your lips and speaking close to your ear over the loud music. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers prickling all over your shoulder and down your arms.

“My brother wants you, cyare.” He nips at your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine as he grinds against your thigh “Wants to know if that’s okay with you.”

You turn to look at Cody some more. The man is strikingly handsome just like any other clone, and his frame is that of a commander as well, big and broad and seeming strong enough to snap you like a twig with his bare hands. The hungry look in his eyes… it’s like he wants to eat you whole, his teeth dragging over his lower lip in a playful smirk.

“That’s… very okay with me.” you reply, making sure Cody could read your lips even though you speak with Rex still “But is it okay with you?”

Rex kisses a wet trail down your neck, nipping at a tendon there. His armored chest is pressed against your own, his thigh finding its way between yours, cold plastoid meeting your heated thighs.

“Us clones are used to sharing everything with one another… I’ve never shared anything as precious as you before though. M’not sure I want to.” Rex nips ever so delicately on a tendon, making you whimper softly “Maybe… if you promise you won’t forget that you are mine, I don’t think I’ll mind if you become his as well.”

The words send a warm excitement that settles in your lower stomach, and you reach for Rex’s face, making him look at you in the eyes.

“I don’t think there’s anything in this galaxy that could make me forget that I’m yours, Rex.”

Rex offers you that warm smile that always makes you weak in the knees to then press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Shall we invite him, then?”

You nod with a wide grin and soon you’re holding out your hand, pulling Cody in closer and tilting your head up to kiss him. He smiles into the kiss, and you laugh softly. You then pull back to turn your face to Rex, kissing him in turn. Every time you kiss one of them, the other traces the back of your neck with his fingers and watches you with aching need until you turn and kissed him instead. The three of you are barely dancing at all at that point, just swaying in place and becoming more and more breathless and hot with desire.

Cody is the one to interrupt all the kissing and groping between the three of you, calling you and Rex back to a more secluded spot under a staircase, far from the booming boxes that blasted music and all the merry drunks on the dance floor, so that the three of you could talk some.

Having interrupted the eager touching and kissing from before, the three of you share a moment of awkward silence before Cody sensibly breaks the moment asking about what you work with.

It leads to an interesting conversation where you get to know each other better – turns out that was the famous Marshall Commander Cody, the highest authority in the Clone Army of the Republic, and Rex himself was Captain of the 501st, the troops under the charge of the famous Jedi General Anakin Skywalker.

The two of them were interested in what you told them of your work, regardless of how boring you believe it would sound next to their own. You laugh at their jokes, enjoy their stories and share your own. At some point you start kissing them again between words, and soon enough none of you is speaking anymore, except for a few goading words and hushed hums.

You wind up pressed up between the two of them, and you press each of your palms over their codpieces. The way Rex’s eyes roll back before falling shut is truly something else, and so is the strained grunt from Cody close to your ear. Rex gropes and kneads at your breasts over your shirt and Cody’s gloved hands hike your skirt up some so that he can press his fingers over the heated skin between your thighs. The commander tugs at the edge of your underwear, kissing the side of your neck.

“Can I get this off the way?”

Moons, his voice is hungry with need and you whine a long, pleading ‘yes’ that is met with a dragging of teeth over the crook of your neck while Rex kisses you. Cody’s gloved fingers tease at your slit and you whine against Rex’s mouth. The way he rubs your clit is so good it should be illegal.

Still, you snap your eyes open and glance over Rex’s shoulder to make sure you’re not being seen by anybody. Luckily enough, the dark corner you chose seems to be hidden enough for no one seems to be staring. Being sandwiched between the two muscular men as they have their way with you in a public place is exciting, and it sends shivers down your spine.

Before you know it, you’re rolling your hips to get Cody’s fingers to tease you harder while Rex pinches your nipples between his fingers, squeezing you breasts and sucking hard at the side of your neck, certainly leaving a trail of hickeys there.

Cody picks up his pace, his own hips thrusting to get more of your touch despite the stiff codpiece that stands in the way. Rex sucks your lower lip into his mouth, and Cody’s middle finger presses against your clit over and over, dipping only ever so shallowly inside you to spread some of the moisture collecting in your heated slit over your clit to ease the friction; you giggle just at the thought of the three of you getting caught, the indecency of it all almost sending you over the edge.

You’re about to suggest that the three of you find an actually private place where you can all get rid of your clothes and move more freely when you hear a faint beep and a small square panel on Cody’s arm – the one moving up and down as he fingers you – lights up with a red hue.

“Kriff!” Cody hisses, retreating his fingers with a grimace; he takes a moment to move your underwear back in place and pulls his hand back “Sorry, I have to take this. Give me a moment…”

Cody places his hand on his ear, visibly displeased. Rex holds you close, gently rubbing your arms and giving you soft pecks to your lips.

“…Yeah?” Cody’s voice and posture suddenly shifts as he jerks himself upright, eyes going sharp “General Kenobi. What is it, sir? Yes. I understand, sir. Yessir. I’ll get the boys back in a minute.” He lowers his hand, shooting Rex the same annoyed look from before “They want us back in the base. Something urgent came up.”

Rex sighs between his teeth heavily enough to make a few strands of your hair fly up for a second. You can imagine he had other plans for tonight, probably the same ones you were having yourself.

Cody grimaces, his golden-brown eyes burning at you while Rex takes his side. You shiver at the loss of Rex’s warmth, crossing your arms.

“You have Rex’s number, right?” Cody smirks at you when you nod, licking the slickness over his gloved finger, eyes sharp at you “We’ll finish this on another occasion then…”

He says your name slowly, almost spelling it like he’s savoring it, eyes trailing over your frame like he wants to commit it to memory before departing. Rex takes your free hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

“I’ll call you soon, cyare.”

You mean to ask him what the word means, but instead you just say quietly:

“I’ll be waiting…”

-

You spend most of the time after that texting them every day, and while they are very sweet, both of them can only get back at you at very late hours, and the reason why they are so busy is classified. Since they’re both such high-ranking troopers you can imagine how serious it must be. So despite feeling bitter about being unable to see them anytime soon, you promise them to wait for a new date.

The dates that come barely count as dates though, rushed meetings at the bar late at night that only amount to some chatting and kissing and little beyond that before they rush back out. Maybe that’s commander-dating for you, these two are most likely the busiest clones in the GAR and you just had to fall hard for them, haven’t you?

When they finally text you saying they will soon be stationed in Coruscant while their Generals sorted out some things with the Jedi Council in two weeks and that you should pick a date for you to actually have dinner together, you have to muffle a scream of sheer giddiness into your pillow before replying that the nearest date possible sounds great.

To the hells with not looking as stars-damned eager as you are. You are damn thirsty for those two, and they better know it by now.

Two weeks later you are sitting alone in a booth at the 79’s second floor, waiting for them to arrive. You can’t help but smile in excitement, curious about the reason why this had been regarded as a special date. This is a nice space, quieter than the dance floor below, and you spot other couples having quiet conversations or simply enjoying the nice atmosphere to sit closer together and kiss.

You run a hand through your hair, fixing the upper half you had tied up in a low ponytail; you’re about to wonder what could be taking so long when they show up, climbing the stairs with smiles on their faces.

Rex and Cody. Your boyfriends. You still cannot understand how you managed to be lucky enough to have all of the three commanders completely in love with you and willing to share you with one another.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Cody strokes the back of your hand as he takes the seat in front of you, leaning to give you a kiss

“Looking prettier than ever.” Rex says softly, taking his seat next to you and kissing you as well

You can feel many eyes turning towards your direction, and you giggle shyly. Yeah, most people were just as smitten as you are over having the attention of the commander and the captain. You look from Cody to Rex with the widest smile on your face.

“I’m so happy you guys called me. I was worried about the two of you. What kept you so busy these days?” Cody and Rex hesitate and you shrug “It’s okay if you can’t tell me. You…wanna talk about something else instead?”

The two clones visibly deflate in relief when you chuckle, and Rex nods.

“Yeah, please. Don’t wanna think any more about work for the day if that’s okay with you…”

He says your name like just doing it makes him happy, and you rest your head on his shoulder for a moment, feeling Cody’s thumb stroking your knuckles and staring lovingly at the commander’s eyes. Sometimes you feel like your presence is like a small vacation for them, and it makes you feel all fuzzy inside. It’s a nice feeling, knowing that you make them nearly as happy as they make you.

That is when you notice a clone dressed in white-and-grey commander armor walking up the stairs and stopping for a moment to say hi to another clone nearby. That man looked good enough to eat, big and boad as commanders go, with a large scar over his right eye and a face that said he wasn’t to be messed with. The way he carried himself probably got enemies to surrender on the spot, and right now it’s making you press your thighs together in desire as you straighten yourself up on your sit.

Cody furrowed his brows, turning his head towards the direction you were looking at to then chuckle, turned to you with a broad grin on his face.

“My, my, so you want him as well? You are an insatiable one, cyare.”

“Wha-?” you blurt out, blushing heavily “I didn’t say anything, Cody!”

The man in commander armor had just noticed Cody and Rex sitting with you in the booth and Rex waved at him as he began walking towards you.

“Didn’t have to.” Cody said just low enough not to be heard by the approaching commander “That look on your face says it all. Say, Rex, how about we invite Wolffe into our little relationship, hm?”

Rex glances at Cody to then reach a hand over your thigh under the table, caressing it so gently it pulls a sigh out of your lips. The warmth of his hands can be felt even though his gloves and the fabric of your dress, soothing and enticing all at once.

“Like I said before” Rex looks at your eyes, biting the corner of his lip “I don’t mind sharing, as long as you know you’re mine... ours.” He adds with a pointed look at Cody “All else is up to you, love.”

You are still being pulled in by the possessive look in Rex’s eyes when Wolffe sits down in front of you, placing his hands on the table and lacing his fingers.

“Rex. Cody.” He greets the fellow officers with a nod to then look at you with a small smile “And you are?...”

You introduce yourself with a smile, trying not to let it show on your face how much you’re attracted by that gruff voice and the proud posture of the clone. The three of you order some food and drinks, talking about the time Wolffe had to go on a relief mission and ended up having to find Skywalker’s protocol droid that had gotten lost; Cody’s laughter is contagious as he elbows the commander and say he can “almost see him rolling his eyes at the kriffing thing, vod”.

Wolffe reaches for a handful of chips, nodding at you.

“I’ve seen you and Rex around here before. Are you two... together?”

Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but you wonder if that was a bit of a hopeful tone in the commander’s voice. Maybe he is interested in you as well and want to check with his brothers if it’s okay to hit on you?

The way Rex licks his lips with a quick glance at you and Cody leans back on his sit some to only graze the side of his armored shin along your own makes you shiver, sputtering some.

“I’m- A-actually the three of us are together.”

You make a point to lean closer to Rex while reaching your hand out for Cody to take, and Wolffe’s eyes go from the fingers that Cody laces with yours to the cheek you rest on Rex’s shoulder guard. You are pretty sure you notice him smirk, but on the very next second he is back to his serious self, taking a sip from his glass.

“I see.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. Okay, here goes nothing. You straighten yourself up, leaning closer to Wolffe, eyes locked on his.

“Why’d you ask? You’re interested?”

You try to avoid looking at Cody because his “ooh, you didn’t!” face is bound to end up making you laugh. Wolffe, however, instead of going red or denying just leans forward as well, his gorgeous mismatched eyes staring right back at you.

“Honestly? Yes.” his gaze shifted to Rex for a second “But I’m not about stepping over anyone’s boundaries.”

Okay, that renders you absolutely speechless. The amount of provoking seduction that Cody has seem to be exactly the same amount of blunt honesty and practicality that Wolffe has, and it hits you like a ton of bricks. Rex reaches for a few chips himself, eating calmly while Cody chuckles.

“You won’t, as far as I’m concerned...” Rex says your name, hand moving over to your thigh under the table again “-She wants you. That’s fine by me. We’re all adults, we’re not jealous of each other, and if any of us ever feel uncomfortable about our deal...” he looks at you, eyes gentle and soft “We’ll talk about it, all of us, and work it out.”

“Yeah.” Cody brings your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles “And as long as we’re all happy, it’s nobody’s business.”

Wolffe looks at you, a small smile softening his features, and he moves his hand close to your free one, tracing your knuckles with his fingers.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

#lemon/ #thank u anon #i noticed it before i only thrive in DEMAND #that's why i ask my therapist to constantly ask me to show her my new art #otherwise i don't make it #let's just say i'm a disaster adhd mess and go with that :) #my fics #to post on ao3

[ironharvests]

verse tag drop: kimimaro.

default verse tags.

verse: litany in which certain things are crossed out.   /  /  childhood.

verse: we have not touched the stars‚ nor are we forgiven.  /  /   celestial arc; default adult arc. 

subject tags.

is that too much to expect? that i would name the stars for you? ( satsumaimo )

some say god is where we put our sorrow. god says‚ which one of you fuckers can get to me first? ( hidan | bredfaith )    /  /  @bredfaith

ship tags.

i want to tell you this story without having to confess anything. ( kimikarin | peachmuses )  /  /  with @peachmuses 

when is a monster not a monster? oh‚ when you love it. ( kimiyajuu | bredfaith )  /  /  with @bredfaith 

he touches you‚ like a prayer for which no words exist‚ and you feel your heart taking root in your body. ( kimijū | bredfaith )  /  /  with @bredfaith 

you‚ the moon. you‚ the road. you‚ the little flowers by the side of the road. ( kimisaku | formerfool )  /  /   with @formerfool 

akatsuki verse.

verse: i’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own.     /  /    following the encounter at the celestial shrine, kimimaro is picked up by akatsuki. desperate for something to believe in and needing to be needed, kimimaro joins the hunt for the jinchuuriki. he is not as devoted as he was (and is) to orochimaru, but he is trying to make himself believe this is a worthy cause. due to his rapid regeneration and longevity, he is often paired with hidan ( @bredfaith ).

#tag drop. #tag drop: kimimaro. #verse: i’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own. #you‚ the moon. you‚ the road. you‚ the little flowers by the side of the road. ( kimisaku | formerfool ) #he touches you‚ like a prayer for which no words exist‚ and you feel your heart taking root in your body. ( kimijū | bredfaith ) #when is a monster not a monster? oh‚ when you love it. ( kimiyajuu | bredfaith ) #i want to tell you this story without having to confess anything. ( kimikarin | peachmuses ) #some say god is where we put our sorrow. god says‚ which one of you fuckers can get to me first? ( hidan | bredfaith ) #is that too much to expect? that i would name the stars for you? ( satsumaimo ) #verse: we have not touched the stars‚ nor are we forgiven. #verse: litany in which certain things are crossed out.

[pigeontheoneandonly]

From the Scrap Pile

Tagged for this by @kauriart​ and @amarmeme​.  Thank you!  Very seriously thank you, actually, because I hadn’t read through my “scrap” document (which is more like “scenes I wrote out of order and need homes”) in quite awhile, and I forgot how much stuff I’m looking forward to in the fic.

Tagging @citadelsushi​, @swaps55​, @laurelsofhighever​, @ljandersen​, and @1esk19​!

This is a scene from Labyrinth that hasn’t found that home yet, and I don’t think it really will.  It’s also rated E, so consider yourselves duly warned. ;)

The credits were running.  Shepard instinctively tightened her arms around Kaidan.  His fingers knotted in her hair, not seeming to mind how short it was.  Beneath her cheek, his heart beat warm and steady.  There was a solidity to him as they lay on the couch that she’d lacked since waking up.  Her soul ached for it.  

“You don’t have to go,” he said.  

“This isn’t real.”  She slumped against his chest.  There wasn’t any fight left in her.  She was sore and tired and so lonely that her resolve, to not go this far, to not dip so deeply into this illusion that she touched shame, was nearly eroded.  “This is just some kind of deep hallucination induced by uncontrolled and poorly understood biotic capability.”

“You probably always had it, you know.”  He shrugged, his fingers winding through her hair. She shut her eyes and concentrated on the gentle rumble of his voice.  “Cerberus couldn’t give you that.  It must’ve been all the crappy first-gen ships your mom tooled around on. Leaky as hell, spewing eezo.  Those cybernetic implants are acting as surrogate amplifiers.”

“Maybe,” she said, uncertain.

“You’ve always had terrible dreams.  Much worse, much more memorable and visceral than most people.  It could’ve been latent all this time.”

“It’s an asari thing though.  Who the hell ever heard of a non-asari with… mental biotics?”

“It’s all mental,” he protested, sitting up a bit and forcing her to look at him.  “And look— we fixate so much on physical ability in how we identify and train new biotics, telekinesis and shields and so forth, that maybe we’re overlooking this whole other area.  Would you have ever suspected if you hadn’t gotten the implants?  A bad dream is just a bad dream, right?”

“The relay monument made my head buzz.”  Shepard was dubious, but it had no strength of conviction. “Anyway, that’s a different argument. This is… I can’t stay.”

“Why not?  Nobody would know.”

“I’d know.”  She licked her lips and dug her fingers into his shirt.  It was bad enough that she came here willingly each night to talk to her own imagination without crossing that final line, admitting she was so desperate for him that she’d lie to herself to gain a little peace.

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips slowly, one by one, curling his lips ever so slightly around each.  Her breath caught.  A sharp stab of desire skewered her from chest to groin.  She closed her eyes.

“What’s so wrong about it?” he asked softly.  “Why should this need be any less real or any more embarrassing because it’s happening inside your head?  Why should you be denied a little respite when everything out there is so hard right now?”

“It’s not real,” she said again, her voice nearly breaking, she wanted him so badly.

“It will be someday.”  He raised her chin to look at her.  “Things are rough now.  But I can’t imagine any circumstances in any universe where I wouldn’t love you.”

It was too much.  She surged forward and buried her mouth against his.  

He gripped her ass and rolled her over.  She straddled him, her hands around his head, in his hair, his lips just as hungry for hers, warm breath mingling between them. His fingers slid up the skin of her back and lifted her shirt from her body.  Shepard shrugged it off onto the floor and bent back to him.

Kaidan’s arms tied her to him.  His mouth left hers and moved down her jaw to her neck.  Her eyes squeezed shut at the suddenness of it. Her hips pushed into his.  He gasped and arced his back towards her.  

“Fuck clothes,” he said into her ear, raggedly.

In a flash she jumped off him and peeled her pants and shorts away in one long gesture.  It wasn’t sexy, but at that moment, sexiness took a back seat to expediency.  Caught off guard, he was a bit slower to follow.  Shepard fell back on the couch and pulled him after with his jeans still about his knees.

Skin met skin in a scorching flash.  Their eyes met.  They were done fucking around.

Shepard pushed up against the couch arm and locked her legs around him.  At the same time Kaidan shifted his weight and bent towards her.  She pulled his mouth down to hers.  He thrust into her in one hard stroke.  Her head tilted back in long, satisfied moan.  This was exactly what she needed, what she’d been pining away for three excruciating months and two damn years…

Their groans were buried in their kisses.  Her legs held him so tightly that short and hard was the only way, but it was what they both wanted, their motions together hitting every note perfectly.  She felt him thick inside her while his pelvic bone ground into her most sensitive spot, and left her panting.  So much sweat ran between them Shepard was certain the couch was done for.

His hands on her shoulders pressed her down, forcing them harder together, as tightly as two people could be.  Her nails dug into his back.  She couldn’t take much more of this.  She mumbled something to him but wasn’t sure herself she was even using words.

It swelled up within her, that haunting, exquisite, stolen feeling that blacked out every other thought and sensation-

Shepard came so hard that she started awake in the cold dim of her cabin, the sheets a soaked tangle beneath her and her breath loud in the abrupt silence.  So disoriented that it took the better part of several minutes for her brain to sort out what had happened.  And then her face heated so thoroughly she was shocked the air didn’t catch fire, outmatched only by the hollowing void in the pit of her stomach expressing in exacting detail the furthest extent of her loneliness.

She checked that EDI’s switch was off and was gratified that at least this moment was private.  She scooted over to the other side of the bed, unspoiled by her stupid dream, curled up on the clean, cool pillow, and stared a long time into the dark until morning came.

#nathaly shepard #labyrinth #from the scrap pile #lemon

[beckzorz]

After (one-shot)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes & Reader Words: 2413 Warnings: ANGST (suicide attempt, self-harm, depression). Endgame spoilers. Summary: The impact never comes. A/N: Congrats to my dear dear Tara @moonbeambucky​! This is for her 5k challenge, using the prompt, “I hate the truth. I just want to lie for a little bit longer.” HUGE thank you (belated, I’m so sorry!) to @marvelgirl7 for providing essential feedback! Hope you all enjoy!

Trash litters the empty road.

You stumble, the air suddenly cool on your tear-streaked face.

The impact never comes.

Your knees hit the pavement, the shock shuddering through you as you gasp. The car… Where is the car? The car, it was right there, right about to hit—

Your hands shake as you swipe at your eyes, every breath cutting through your constricting lungs as you stare at the empty road. Half the trees are green, half in the thick of autumn. Red, orange, gold. Nearly every yard is overgrown; stiff grass pokes out of cracks in the sidewalk. Sounds filter in slowly. Wind in the trees, the skitter of dry leaves across the pavement, some screams, some cries, some laughter half-mad, as crazed as you feel. You press your hand to the road, push yourself up, turn in place.

Rusted cars in driveways.

Your car, rusted in your driveway next to one dusty with use. The keys in your pocket poke you. You tug them out. They rattle in your trembling hands.

Good as new.

A siren wails in the distance. A shadow in the sky, to the bright north. North? North is the facility. The compound. The neighbor no one likes to think about.

Another shudder hits you, but this one isn’t your own weak shock. This is from below.

More screams, people running, and then a face you know stops stock-still in front of you.

“Oh my god,” your husband breathes. “You’re back.” He reaches out, the bags under his teary eyes nothing to the gray in his hair, the lines on his face, the bare ring finger…

You step back. Look at your own hands. They’re the same, exactly the same, ring and all. Straight down to the pale lines peeking out around your wrists, under your sleeves.

“I—”

“You’re back,” he says, and then he’s holding you, and you shudder again.

—

Five years.

Five years and a moment at the same time.

A moment ago, you were ready to die. You were eager to die. And your husband… He’s still alive. Older. Less hearty. But still alive, and uncorrupted by that urge to be no more.

Unaware of what you’d just been about to do.

Of what you’d been about to do… five years ago. It’s more than you can wrap your head around, even more than your husband’s continued ignorance of how trapped you feel by life—even more so now, when you know you’d been dead. Been gone.

The couch is more worn than it was, and you sink deeper than usual into the cushion at your regular spot. Everywhere you look, the changes make your head spin. That photo of your nephew is new—my god, he’s so much bigger—the end table has a different finish, the wedding photos have been taken away.

Just like his ring.

But your husband fishes out his wedding ring, puts the photos back on the mantelpiece. He bares his soul of all the painful attempts at connecting with someone else, when always your ghost haunted him. You let him talk, but his words wash over you.

How does the saying go? Til death do us part?

Death parted you, and death still clings to you with hungry fingers.

He thinks he lost you when you vanished, but you’d been a goner a long time before that.

—

You press your hands to your face after he kisses you goodnight.

“Soon,” you whisper. “Soon.”

Two days in, when the news of the Avengers and the deaths and the invasion have all come rolling in, you leave.

—

The chill in your bones is more than the weather. The world’s a bleaker place now, even with all the celebrating. Some don’t seem to see it. But the trash on the ground, all the debris… You still don’t know what happened to the car you wished had hit you. Had the driver disappeared too? Or had they missed you by a moment?

God, if only they’d been driving faster.

None of it feels real. The world you know—no, knew—is gone. There’s nothing left of it but overgrown memories. That tree at the end of the street—it’s too big, the trunk patchy with strange moss. The park is clogged with too many dead leaves, piled around the fence, the streetlights.

The strangest thing is that some of the potholes you’ve been complaining about for years have been filled. All the decay around you, half of everyone haggard and the other half in shock—and yet filled potholes.

It’s surreal. So surreal that if you stare at the ground, it feels like you’re in another world.

Like all the heavy truths hanging over you, gripping every bone in your body, aren’t there.

Every platitude is a lie, of course. But you cling to them because where you’re going, the truth will out. And there will be no escaping it.

—

You make your way upstate, to the ruins of a battleground with not a body left insight. The landscape is scarred, more so than yourself, but there’s no blood. The Avengers compound is all but debris.

There are people among the rubble. People like you, stunned or scavenging or mourning.

You’re… you don’t know what you are.

Stunned, maybe. Scavenging, no. Mourning? Not for the Avengers. Not…

Not after what they did.

Ah.

That explains the chill. You’re angry.

You can feel it now. The twisting in your gut, masked by hunger. The coil in your chest, masked by that grip of death around your heart. The clenching of your jaw, masked by the cold.

Still, a wave of relief washes over you. It’s been months—for you, anyway—since you’ve felt something this strong.

A chirp overhead grabs your attention. You stare—a little drone, gray with red-tipped wings, a few feet over your head.

“This area has been classified as dangerous,” the drone chirps. “Please vacate the area, or you will be escorted out.”

It hovers for a moment, waiting. You don’t move.

“This area has been classified as dangerous. Please vacate the area, or you will be escorted out.”

You sit cross-legged in the loose dirt.

“This is your final warning. This area has been classified as dangerous. Please vacate the area, or you will be escorted out.”

The dirt is cool against your hands. Your only movement is to close your eyes and dig your fingers into the earth, feel it dead and crumbling under your fingernails.

If someone were to touch you, would you crumble? Would you feel dead to them too?

A pop overhead has you staring into the sky. The little drone—it’s almost like a bird, isn’t it?—has shot a flare into the air, its smoky trail in a bright upwards arc that ends a dozen feet over your head. Then the drone moves on, winding its way over the tattered topography, looking for someone else.

You look back down. The dirt shifts as you wiggle your fingers, though by now the chill has settled so you can barely feel your fingers. A few inches away, a flash makes you blink. You draw your hands from the earth and reach out, curious.

It’s… a little metal shard. Half red and half white, paper-light yet sharp as knives. You turn your hand's palm up and contemplate your covered wrists. Your pea coat is stiff, but you could bare enough skin. You could—

“Hey!”

You flinch, eyes wide and heart racing. The little shard fits neatly into your fisted hand, the edge biting into your palm. It’s enough to make you feel it, and some of the lingering tension melts out of you. The nick is painful, but it’s eminently satisfying. Like scratching an itch, or picking a scab…

A man is jogging towards you. Not a man you recognize. It’s not Captain America, not the Falcon. You stare blankly up at him as he stops a few feet away, not even breathing heavily after a run—who knows how long he’d been running. The ruined complex must still be a mile away. All the same, he looks thoroughly unbothered by his jog.

And thoroughly annoyed at you.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says.

A hollow laugh bubbles out of you. The man stares at you, his face pinched in confusion as your laugh devolves and tears leak from your eyes.

“Uh,” he says.

He tugs a handkerchief—a handkerchief?—out of his pocket and holds it out. You take it and wipe your cheeks with shivering fingers before thrusting the damp cloth back towards him. He takes it slowly.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he repeats.

“No,” you tell him. “I shouldn’t.”

—

His name is Bucky, and he shouldn’t be here either.

“I should’ve died in ‘43,” he says.

He’s not bitter. Not like you. Just matter-of-fact, like he’s used to it. Well, ‘43 was a long time ago. Seventy-five—no, eighty years now. He’s walking you back towards the road, keeping a distance from other departing pilgrims and scavengers. You keep your hands in your pockets, the shard in your fist still digging into your skin.

“But I didn’t,” he continues. “Every time I thought I’d die… I didn’t. The ice, the Potomac, the fading away.” He exhales in a little huff. “By now I’m almost used to it, I guess.”

Your throat tightens. “But we’re not meant to live forever.”

“Eighty years isn’t not forever. It’s just a helluva long time.”

“How can you be so calm about it?” Your fists tremble in your pockets. He’s just walking, eyes ahead, his face so damn serene you can’t stand it. “People have been screwing you over for eighty years, and you aren’t even bothered!”

Bucky snorts. “Like I said. I’m used to it. After all the shit I’ve dealt with, one more thing ain’t gonna kill me.”

“But it did kill you!” you exclaim, stopping in your tracks. “It killed you, it killed all of us! I was dead! What right did they have to stop me being dead?”

He pauses a few steps in front of you. A few seconds pass as your last words fade, seeping into the ground crumbling around you, beneath you. Only when you can feel the heavy silence weighing on your shoulders does Bucky turn, but he doesn’t look straight at you.

“Death is never something to look forward to,” he says flatly. He sighs, then pauses. He glances sideways at you, his blue eyes piercing as his nostrils flare. “You’re bleeding.”

You stiffen.

“Where?”

Heat washes over your face. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Your fist curls tighter, driving the shard a little deeper. You hiss at the fresh jolt of pain.

Bucky grabs your elbow before you have the wherewithal to step back. He yanks your hands out of your pockets.

“Ow!” Your eyes sting with fresh tears as you tug against his hold. But Bucky doesn’t stop—he pulls open the wrong fist, and then the other, and the second he sees the blood on your palm he swears.

Then he spots the shard embedded in your palm, and he freezes.

It’s your turn to stare. There’s something awful in his face, a kind of primal grief, the kind you know all too well. His face is white as bone, eyes so wide open that the whole shape of his face has changed.

You can’t look at him anymore. Your gaze lands on your throbbing palm, on the shard of red and white, and it clicks. Bucky Barnes, red and white.

And blue.

For a moment, one shining moment, you’re back in 2008. The wonder, the shock, the joy—the return of Captain America, lost in the ice, back to fight against tyranny and evil before everything went wrong. For the world, and for you.

“Is this… the shield?” you breathe.

Bucky starts. His expression goes blank. In a few seconds, he’s pulled the shard away and tied up your palm with his handkerchief, the white cotton blooming red with your blood.

“No,” he says shortly. He shoves the shard in his pocket and nudges you onward. “Just part of it.”

“But…” You trail off; your steps slow.

Bucky stops short with a huff. “Things are different now,” he snaps. Then he sighs and scrubs his hand over his eyes. His tone softens. “We all have to get used to it.”

You stare over his shoulder, dread, and deadness settling back in your stomach. “I don’t know if I can,” you whisper.

“Things change. That’s just the truth.”

Rage shoots through you, hot and sickly and blinding. You spin away, hands trembling. “I hate the truth,” you hiss.

“What?” Bucky’s incredulous. Shocked. He grabs your arm, turns you back to face him. You meet his eyes fearlessly, angrily, but there’s something you can’t name in his expression, in his mouth, in his eyes. The anger melts away, Bucky drops your arm, and you’re left feeling empty and bereft.

“I hate the truth,” you repeat, quietly this time. “I want… I want to lie for just a little longer.”

Bucky’s eyes flit across your face. You don’t know what he sees, but he doesn’t push you onward again like he’s done every time you’ve stopped before now. Instead, he gently takes your hands, careful with your injured palm.

“Hey,” he says. His voice is more gentle than ever before. “Whatever happened to you, wherever you’ve been, whatever you were… everything’s different now. You don’t have to be stuck in the past. Trust me, it sucks.”

Your lips twitch, and Bucky smiles. You can’t look away from him, not with his hands curled around yours and his eyes so kind and his smile so sweet.

“I know it’s… hard. Picking up the pieces, starting over. It sucks,” he says bluntly, but his soft smile doesn’t fade. “But it’s not impossible. And this time, none of us are alone.”

The empty spot in your chest warms a little, and as the warmth settles, you realize that the grip of death on your heart is fading away. Tears spring to your eyes, happy ones.

Bucky drops your hands only to pull you against his chest. You hadn’t really noticed before, but he’s large, and warm, and so solid with his arms around you that you let yourself relax into his hold.

“I got you,” Bucky murmurs. He squeezes your shoulders. “I got you.”

For the first time in years—for yourself, and for the world—you feel something like hope.

—

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think xoxo

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier imagine #becca writes

[mediaeval-muse]

Book Review

Unravel the Dusk. By Elizabeth Lim. New York: Knopf, 2020.

Rating: 2/5 stars

Genre: YA fantasy

Part of a Series? Yes, Blood of Stars Duology #2

Summary: Maia Tamarin’s journey to sew the dresses of the sun, the moon and the stars has taken a grievous toll. She returns to a kingdom on the brink of war. The boy she loves is gone, and she is forced to don the dress of the sun and assume the place of the emperor’s bride-to-be to keep the peace. But the war raging around Maia is nothing compared to the battle within. Ever since she was touched by the demon Bandur, she has been changing . . . glancing in the mirror to see her own eyes glowing red, losing control of her magic, her body, her mind. It’s only a matter of time before Maia loses herself completely, but she will stop at nothing to find Edan, protect her family, and bring lasting peace to her country.

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: violence, blood, references to corporal punishment and torture, demonic possession

Overview: Despite its flaws, I really enjoyed Spin the Dawn and was excited to read its sequel, Unravel the Dusk. Unfortunately for me, most of the things I loved about Spin the Dawn were lacking in its sequel, making the things I don’t like about Lim’s writing stand out a bit more. As a result, this book was underwhelming, and I can’t say I was particularly satisfied by the conclusion to this duology, even if there were some things here and there that had promise.

Writing: As with the previous book, Lim’s pacing has a tendency to move a bit too fast. While it worked ok in Spin the Dawn, it seems as if Lim was always trying to get to the “next thing” in Unravel the Dusk to avoid being criticized for moving too slow. It comes at the expense of developing a deep, emotional connection between the reader and the story; emotional moments aren’t given time to breathe, and action sequences are over so quickly that there’s no time to feel suspense. As a result, I found myself unable to get invested in the plot, despite there being some pieces that would have otherwise appealed to me.

I also was not a fan of Lim’s tendency to tell instead of show. While I’m not insisting that showing is *always* preferable to telling, I did think Lim passed up some opportunities to really showcase her craft. Maia would tell us how she was feeling more often than show it (”I crumpled to the floor in despair.” “Anger washed over me.”), and Lim had the tendency to explain to the reader what can be inferred. Additionally, so many character interactions revolved around dialogue that I longed for scenes where they could do something meaningful together, rather than just talk about it.

Plot: Unravel the Dusk follows the fallout from the previous book: Edan has lost his magic and has left the Palace, while Maia must contend with her deal with the demon Bandur. While the demonic possession angle was interesting, it seemed like a lot of what made Maia’s story interesting in the first place (the emphasis on sewing, her connection to her family, Lady Sarnai’s complexity) was done away with in favor of a more “dark” fantasy plot. I do think a story about demonic possession and the loss of self could have worked in Lim’s setting, but because so much of the magic and wonder and uniqueness of Maia’s character was done away with, it felt like a radical departure from Spin the Dawn.

Maia’s inner monologue also had a tendency to be repetitive when describing the effects the demon was having on her. She would often vocalize how monstrous she was becoming, how there was “still some of the real Maia left,” and so on to the point where it didn’t create suspense or tension, but became something of a broken record. I also don’t think her loss of selfhood - when it did happen - was particularly compelling. For example, there is a moment when Maia is supposed to irrevocably lose her mind and her memories, but it seems like she only forgets names and faces for a second, then regains them when she’s around the person in question. It made the stakes seem much lower, despite the main action revolving around Maia’s entire identity.

In terms of the plot’s overall structure, I also didn’t feel like the scenes built on each other in meaningful ways. Because the pace moved so quickly, Lim seemed to forgo things like foreshadowing and suspense, and I often felt like I wasn’t being invited to share a journey with the characters so much as I was passively observing them. For example, when Maia and Edan finally confront Bandur, there is no lead up to the encounter; one second, they’re at a Temple, the next, they’ve already journeyed to Lapzur and are enacting a plan, which the two have discussed in meticulous detail off page. As a result, major plot points felt a bit hollow; everything leading up to Maia’s arrival at Lapzur didn’t advance my understanding of demon lore (unless it was dumped on me via dialogue), nor did it add to Maia’s character development. Overall, I just didn’t feel like I cared about what happened because I wasn’t allowed to feel the stakes of Maia’s predicament, and I was kept at arm’s length rather than invited along for the journey.

Characters: Maia’s personality is a little bit different in this book due to her demonic possession. She “goes rogue,” so to speak, learning to act on her own and taking charge without the help of Edan or other magic users. She’s also a bit more cold, which makes sense given her circumstances, but was frustrating for me as a reader because her passion for her family and Edan’s well-being made her so likable in the first place. As I stated above, I didn’t quite like how repetitive her internal monologue was, as it made her seem less like a person who was losing herself and more like an “edgy” character who *talked* about losing herself. I also think her tendency to want to push everyone away "for their own good” was irritating.

Edan was largely absent until halfway through the book, but when he came back, I didn’t find that Lim did anything interesting with his character. He’s still kind and devoted, which is nice, but he didn’t exactly develop in any way, nor did his relationship with Maia undergo serious challenges.

The same can be said of Ammi, a former imperial servant who travels with Maia in part to get away from Palace life, and in part because she values Maia’s friendship. I loved Ammi as a character, but it didn’t seem like Lim took advantage of her potential to really explore what female friendship can look like in her world. Instead, it felt like Ammi was mostly present to highlight Maia’s demonic changes - Ammi is shown to be cold or hungry so that Maia’s sudden lack of sleep or eating is unsettling, and Ammi is frequently the victim of Maia’s angry, violent outbursts.

Other secondary characters likewise seemed to only exist for brief moments, and since the plot moved so quickly, their emotional impact was very limited. Longhai’s reappearance, for example, should have been more impactful - he could have reminded Maia of who she was, taught her more about the value of relying on friends, etc. but none of the interactions with him are given the room to breathe. Lady Sarnai has a brief arc was somewhat intriguing, but since she was absent for most of the book, she didn't feel as integral to the story as she could have been. Similarly, Bandur is something of a boogeyman in that he’s always threatening to do something to Maia and her loved ones, but his power is never really felt. As a result, he’s somewhat one-dimensional as a villain, and I never got the sense that the stakes were especially high, should he escape Lapzur. The same is true for the shansen and Giyu’rak; while I did get the sense that the shansen was a threat, his own demonic aid was one dimensional.

Other: While a lot of the demonic lore was interesting, I think Lim could have communicated it in more interesting ways. Most of what we know about demons comes from Bandur or Edan dropping information on Maia, or from random acts of violence. I also thought there seemed to be little limit to Maia’s demonic magic; in stark contrast to Edan’s former abilities, Maia has no restrictions other than “using too much will make it harder to resist later.” While good in theory, I did wish there was some kind of boundary to her magic, such as certain places she couldn’t go, people she couldn’t touch, etc. Also, I disliked how Maia seemed to intuit how to wield her magic without much of a learning curve. While she was fairly passive and ignorant in the previous book, this book swings too far the other way and makes her instantly knowledgeable, which means there are fewer obstacles to overcome.

Recommendations: I would recommend this book if you’re interested in demons, demonic pacts and possession, threat of war, and questions of selfhood.

#book reviews

[mariaantonnietta]

My bleach musings.

Bleach is a series I love and somentimes the mood strikes for me to talk about it, so here I will post some theories, thoughts, headcannons and even plot bunnies I've gathered. Of course spoilers ahead.

First, I really like how the whole business with zangetsu ended up for Ichigo, how all inner guiding was rendered fullfilled once he realised the simple truth that both zangetsu's were him. It really gave the impression that he found himself and was finally aware of all his power and how it worked. At the same time, it pains me he never actually explained it or used it fully, I felt dissconected from him, he knew now better than ever what his real power was, and I didn't do at all.

Unpopular opinion, I like the fullbrighter arc, I agree that it was a pain watching it be written at snail pace, and that the total change of setting felt bad then, but reading it again all in one go it's a fantastic piece of mentally torturing your protagonist, so well made how it explores ichigo fears and weak points, with tsukishima exploiting them one by one in a downrall spiral. I found myself wondering how far kubo could break him down...the conclusion here is that it would have been interesting if it went more like this, alas kubo heart is too soft(my is soft too I was relieved he was alright, I just felt the escape from the situation a little cheap. It made sense that people now helped him back, so it's alright) the real conclusion here is that kubo can write psicological pieces if he puts his mind into it.

I want to talk about hollows now, so bear with me. I heard some thing orctwo from the nocels, but I dod not read them and also they're kinda-like canon, so I will try to not mention them or to explain if at any point I get something from them what that is. And if something was explained another way in a novel, then anyways I like my headcanon too.

So, now, my personal hollow theory lesson:

First, hollows are plus that stayed too long in the world of living (generally souls go automatically to siul society, you stay in the living world if you have regrets 'chaining you' there) and whose chain broke with time as these regrets acumulatted, becoming a hollow.

Hollows renounced their hearts to calm the pain, and their remants now form a mask that protects them. Also, they have a hollow left behind that marks their empiness they now feel, they lack humanity and hunger from it. That's why they seek to eat souls, to fill that hole, but they will always remain hungry.

Now we all know some hollows start seeing other's hollows as prey. This has not to do with power level but with a personal thing, I believe. A hollow might always remain a hollow or migth want to eat others and eventually become gillian, and that's intristic on the hollow( think the horse and king discourse here).

Now what happens when someone is eaten by a hollow? Not with their power, with their souls? My headcannon goes as follows:

First do you remember how gillians are said to be hundreds our wills silenced and going numb and adchucas are born from the ones where a voice is stronger than the rest and wants to keep eating? Well, it's always like that. A soul eaten by a hollow becomes part of the hollow, totally suprimed by the primary conscience. They become part of him/her. It's a bit weird, but hear me out. Let's say a shinigami purifies a hollow that has eaten 99 souls. Then all 100 souls are retourned to soul society when they are purified. They return to the balance (quincy wiping out hollows from existance is dramatic) as different souls.

But at the same time, I think these souls do influence the primary mind (the king). Their accumulation does change a little bit the person, even if it's always fundamentally the first soul.

Also, I'm pretty sure there exist two types of eating. The total kind and the partial kind. The total kind gives more power and total control of the soul, the partial is when full can't be done. Partial eating stops the evolution on hollows and twists plusses into hollows of their own.

About shinigamis, I've heard somewhere that they soul reborns in the human world and only their body can be consumed, and at the end it makes a lot of sense. How else will shinigami die?(I think this also goes for anyone living in soul society, they're especially delicious to hollows because they give power but don't add up to the cacophony of voices they are constantly suppressing.(this is probably an instrictual thing they can't turn off)). Aaroniero is an special case like methalasia.

Another thing is that their memories should become murkier the more souls they eat. Hollows all have at least their loved ones on intrinsic memory when they're born (the ones that made you warm the ones you should it) so they all have some memory of their past lives at the start, but it surely gets murkier with more souls eaten. That being said, as hollows are lost souls at their bare, something always lingers with them. About plus souls in soul society, it said the probability is really small, but I think it also depends on who you encounter. If you met your mom when you arrive, you will remember her. (The boy and sado, the boy remembered sado and their promise, because they were connected). The probabilty of such encounter in tour entire lives on soul society is the improbable one, and if you didnt have a strong will to find them as you die I doubt you will even remember they existed. But strong impression might remain, when you don't expect them.

Now going back to hollows, another thing is their masks. It's tabú not only for shinigamis but between hollows themselves to destroy another's mask. (See nelliel reaction to nnoitra destroying her fraccions masks)Also, becoming an arrancar its more inner that destroting a mask, hollow masks grow back when destroyed (nel fraccion, also orihime's brother.)I think is implied by the later that they remember when they were human without it . But he was a new holloow so...what's clear is that they're at their most vulnerable without them, and that it will grow back to protect them. But it may not completely(grim fraccion, nel broken one)...it may cause a trauma that prevents it's vomplete regrow, but is not an advance but a wound, they cover it up. To break your mask to become an arrancar (naturally) must be an inner determination.

About hell, pretty sure hollows always go to soul society, and only can go to hell if they were evil in their human lives too. Soul reapers can go to hell. Also, it can happen that a hollow changes and becomes better and ends up not going to hell. Like, let's say nelliel was an horrible human, now as she changed in hueco mundo she won't end up in hell when she dies, you need to remain a bad person to go to hell.

I have more theories regarding resurrection, the other resurrection, and a lot more things, but this is long enough. Let me give a last thought for now.

Both Aaroniero and Szayel cases interest me, but let's focus a bit on szayel and his brother. I know about what the novel said(the cero espada stuff I find hilarious, it's another number pun: two ceros conjoined made an eight, when they are surperpossed they make again a cero), and what their backstory was in it, but let's ignore it now, even better, let's pretend it's false.

I really find interesting the reality where these two souls encountering is actually accidental.

Tell me, what are the odds, of two souls not only both becoming hollows and managing to miss each other(so the did not eat the other)...but both reaching adjuchas rank(or a adjuchas and a vasto lorde, same thing), and both reuniting, under the same, ambitious man? How infinitessimal the probabilities are? To not be killed by soul reapers or other hollows, to both becoming attracted to eat hollows, to both becoming and active voice in a gillian, to both becoming adjuchas and surviving (and one to vasto lorde if you want)...it's too low to be posible, that's why the novel explamation while not perfect does make more sense, but even so!

I really want to see that scientific face, being so throghtfully confronted by this imposible fate staring right back at him.

#bleach spirits are forever with you #a little #my headcanons #hollow theory #souls theory in general #ichigo kurosaki #zangetsu #szayel aporro grantz #szayelaporro grantz #iilyfort grantz #nelliel #i have a lot more theories smd musings #this is just getting long #sorry for the mistakes #and the length #i'm on movile #tomorrow i will ad thecread more #hopefully #bleach #bleach theory #bleach headcannons #bleach musings

[venus-says]

Kamen Rider Amazons Season 1

They're Here...And They're Hungry.

When I decided it was time to get back with the blog I knew that eventually at some point I would have to get back to the previous Kamen Rider series that I haven't watched, but I didn't want to come back to a full season of 50 episodes or so right away, I wanted something that would be a bit easier to do more or less just so that I could have time to prepare more posts ahead since to catch up with the time wasted I would have to start to release posts for Precure and Rider back-to-back and doing that without preparing would be a nightmare. And that's how I decided to watch Amazons now instead of doing it in a distant future after I had watched Amazon, as I had originally planned.

And talking about Amazons is a funny thing because back in last year before I decided I would jump head first in the Rider franchise I watched a lot of those "Where to start watching *insert huge franchise here*" videos and all of them always mentioned how Amazons was a different season because it was aimed at a much older audience and that it was dark, and serious, and very violent, and there was this aura that was created around this show and the Amazon from the 70s, and it was something I was really curious about, I'd say Amazon and Amazons were probably the things I was looking forward to watching the most.

And well... what I got from this show wasn't exactly that? Like, I was expecting something way more gruesome, but what I got was just another regular Kamen Rider season that has some CGI blood on it, it wasn't anything special, you know? The impression it gave me was that they gathered a bunch of boys and asked them what they considered to be "adult-like" and they took all the suggestions mixed them in this show and then they added a blue/gray filter on it to give it a ~serious~ vibe. They didn't even were that violent to be honest, outside of very few specific scenes we don't see anything that is too far from what Kamen Rider already does, and whenever it goes beyond it end up looking more gross rather than violent because they use a black/green-ish slimy blood for the monsters, who are the ones who suffer from this extra violence the most, and even then their blood usually is covering the screen making it hard for us to see whatever it is that is going on the screen. In other words, it was doing the cool for the cool.

Does that make it a bad show? Eh... not really? I mean, I understand it if someone doesn't like it because there's indeed not a lot to the show, but I enjoyed it. It wasn't anything that I loved, but it also didn't get me bored or utterly annoyed at the show. It was underwhelming, yes, which I believe is the reason of why this review will end up making this post be shorter than it should be considering I'm covering an entire season at once, but it more or less kept me entertained for a few hours so it wasn't an awful experience.

I think the biggest disappointment of this show is that it's always trying to raise interesting concepts, but they never commit with any of them and this kinda makes the show feels like it's hollow, like there's no proper theme at its core. And being honest, the biggest problem here isn't even that it feels like this show is about nothing, but the fact that they try to do an ethical discussion about life, and what lives are worth saving or not, but it was never an actual discussion, at least it never gave me that impression, what I was seeing was character A making X argument, and character B making Y argument, but they never have an actual conversation so characters A and B don't change at all and they just keep hanging to those arguments until the end. The whole rivalry between Omega and Alpha feels like this to me, it's supposed to show two different sides and they more or less end up at the same point where they started. Now that I think about it, it sounds a lot like Gaim... which is making me question my feelings for that season now... well that's not important now.

Like I always do I intended to dedicate a separate section to go through the characters, but as I was going through each one of them I realized they're not very interesting and I wouldn't have much to say about them so I'll just go briefly on what I think saved this show for me that was the side characters.

Okay, not all of them are good, but we had a few gems in this cast. I especially like Nanaha and how her relationship with Jin plays out in the show, of course, there's still a bit of that old Rider writing for women where she's more or less just an accessory for Jin, but they managed to make her personality still shine despite that which makes me fully believe she truly loves Jin and she does all that she does of her own choice (or at least I like to believe that). I also really like the pest control team, yeah they kinda end up merging into a single entity at some point, but I like having them there, especially for Mamoru who's a very interesting character, and one of the few ones of this show that actually goes through an arc (that go me quite emotional because I like the little dude and seeing him losing himself to the amazon cells was REALLY HARD), but that was sadly not used to its full potential (yes, I'm salty they called episode 13 "M" but instead of focusing on Mamoru they decided to focus in the pointless fight between Haruka and Jin).

Now the last thing I have comments to make about is the suits and the designs. Not gonna lie, it feels weird to have this section here because as I mentioned the show has this awful color filter on to make it look like something more dark and serious so I don't know if what we're seeing in terms of colors looks exactly with what they wanted during the conception and production phase, but overall I like the designs for both Riders and Amazons. I have a frustration with Omega's suit because they tried to make it something more modern and sleek but when they did that they lost all the charm of the original Kamen Rider Amazon that was left to be implemented more in Alpha and Sigma's suits, and I would be more okay with his design if they hadn't shown us his more primal form, that actually looks like Amazon, and that look more interesting than it's final design. Of our 3 riders, my favorite in terms of looks is Alpha, both because it has the iconic piranha imagery and also because it's color is such a vibrant red that even with the awful filter over it makes it stand out a lot and I love this. I feel like, in the end, poor Sigma got the short end of the stick here since his design is pretty much just a recolor from Alpha, but considering his plotline was pretty much useless it makes sense they wouldn't put that much effort on it. I feel like I don't talk much about the accessories in these but I really like Omega's weapons that come out from the handles on its belt, I think it's a pretty clever idea and it's cool as heck seeing him pull a spear and a whip out of that belt, it's sad it's not used all that much... I think it's used only once in the fight on the roof of that apartment and it never shows up again, which is just a tragedy.

You know, now that I mentioned it, I really like the different ideas they came up with for Amazons that were hunting their prey. I love that bus plot, the apartment building that is an ant colony was very fun, and the restaurant that cooks humans in a "civilized" way was also pretty good, it reminded me of the iZombie TV show where in one of the seasons the villain starts to run like a catering service in a similar fashion.

And I believe that's all I have to say about the first season of Amazons, it feels like I've left a lot of things out but most of those things didn't feel worthy of commenting on, it would more or less just me listing up all the events and I believe that's not what you all are here for. In any case, these were my thoughts on Amazons season 1, I'll watch season 2 and it should be my next review on the Kamen Rider seasons, but for now, let me know what do you think of this season. Do you love it? Do you hate it? Write it down in the comments. Stay healthy, stay safe, never stop resisting, thank you so much for reading, and until the next time. See-ya~

#Kamen Rider Amazons #kamen rider

[mst3kproject]

The Incredible Petrified World

When choosing episodes that never were, it is always tempting to just pick crap movies I enjoy watching, like Lady Frankenstein or The Giant Claw, and ignore the unwatchable bilge – but this blog is about films that were or should have been on MST3K, and they riffed their way through quite a bit of unwatchable bilge over the years, from The Robot vs the Aztec Mummy to dreary dubbed Hamlet. I would therefore be sadly remiss if I neglected truly wretched movies entirely, and so we come to The Incredible Petrified World.  It’s a Jerry Warren movie that serves very well to emphasize that Teenage Zombies might be his best work, and it stars John Carradine from The Unearthly and Phyllis Coates from Invasion USA.  It’s also one of the most difficult movies I’ve ever had to sit through, right up there with Invasion of the Neptune Men, so brace yourselves because this is gonna hurt.

A Dr. Wyman (evidently this is before the Blood Beast ate his brain) has invented a special deep-diving bell, and it’s time for its first test in the Caribbean. The expedition consists of three scientists and a reporter – the former are two identical-faced men and a brunette, and the latter is a blonde.  Don’t expect me to remember their names.  Halfway down, the cable snaps and they plummet to the seafloor… but when they come to, they realize there’s light in the windows.  They’ve somehow entered a series of underwater caverns, which are inexplicably full of air and light!  After wandering around eating up time I could have spent watching a better movie, they encounter a man in a fake beard who says he’s been down there for fourteen years. For some reason this guy decides to kill them all, but at the last minute a volcano erupts, squashing him so everybody else can be rescued.

Interspersed with all this are scenes of Wyman’s brother and his collaborators, helping in the search for the missing scientists and building their own diving bell for a follow-up mission.  These parts seemed weirdly disconnected from the rest of the movie, and I wondered if they were shot and added later because somebody thought the movie was going to be too short.  But then at the end, all these characters appear together on the rescue boat.  I guess the writing just sucked.

Oh, man, fuck this movie.  It really is the dumbest, dullest thing imaginable.  The whole thing is just a bunch of scenes that wander across the screen but never amount to much, so in that spirit I’m going to make a bunch of observations and not worry about whether they add up to a review.  Here goes.

The actual beginning of the movie is some footage of an octopus fighting a shark, while a narrator tells us that the sea is the wildest and most hostile place on earth… although his words aren’t nearly so poetic.  In fact, the narrator sounds like he’s reading the script aloud for the first time, while wondering if he remembered to lock his car.  He drones on and on about the things that lurk in the depths while we see dull footage of fish swimming around for nearly four minutes.  I already want to turn this off and go do something fun, like sweep the floor. Even worse, none of this has a crumb to do with the rest of the movie, which is set not at the seafloor, but in a cave, where there are no sharks or octopodes.

The diving bell looks about as solid as a beach ball and is significantly bigger on the inside than the outside.  Everything in it is controlled by two switches on the wall and an oscilloscope. The dialogue is at pains to note that the second bell, the one built by Wyman’s brother, is identical to the first. This means they can use the same set.

All these undersea caverns have nice level floors for the characters to walk on, which is good because the women wore heels for their descent into the murky abyss.  At one point they encounter an Australian perentie lizard, which is only seen in a cutaway because it’s stock footage from the other side of the world.  I don’t know how long they’re supposed to have spent wandering around in the caves but since the search was eventually called off it must have been a couple of weeks at least.  Despite this, nobody’s clothes get dirty.  The women’s hair and makeup always look perfect, and the men never need to shave.  Come to think of it, how does Beard Guy know he’s been down there for fourteen years? He’s in a fucking cave.  There’s no day or night to pass the time, and he doesn’t wear a watch.

Beard Guy apparently tells the characters that he and Mysterious Skeleton were sailors on a ship that sank, and that’s how they ended up in here. The two men suspect that he isn’t telling the truth.  It turns out Beard Guy is the one who killed Mysterious Skeleton, although it never tells us why – maybe he’s just crazy, or maybe he got really hungry one day. If there’s a dark truth to how he ended up in this place, however, the audience never learns what it is.

Much of what we see is just filling time.  One of the guys says they can make fishing spears out of some of the equipment they had in the diving bell, and then we have to watch them do it. There’s a bit where a guy back on land is driving somewhere, and we hear a news broadcast on the search, which is fine, but then we also have to listen to the weather report as well. Characters wander through rocks, and then wander back through the same rocks shot from a slightly different angle.

There is an attempt at subplots.  The blonde woman is the bitchy one and the brunette is the nice one.  The former has just broken up with her boyfriend and threw his engagement ring into the ocean.  One of the men confesses his love to the latter.  Both of these ideas come out of nowhere, are given three or four lines, and vanish into the mist, never to be heard from again.  Beard Guy, whose ‘beard’ looks more like a stuffed animal glued to his face, tries to rape the blonde while the men are gone.  Since the movie was made in the fifties he doesn’t get very far before he is buried by falling rocks.  If this had happened so the men could heroically save her, it would have annoyed me, but the utter pointlessness of the scene we did get is worse.

The erupting volcano is exactly like the erupting volcano in The Land that Time Forgot, in that the volcano only exists to end the movie at an arbitrary point.  At least it’s not here to steal the happy ending this time.  Footage of the actual eruption is upside-down for some reason, maybe because we’re under the ground.  What sense does that make?  Did the writer think the earth is hollow and volcanoes on its inner surface point down instead?

The dialogue is unsalvageable.  There’s an entire conversation between John Carradine and some other guy about why the cable broke on the first diving bell, and not only is everything they say nonsense, they can’t even make it sound like anything but.  Characters on Star Trek talk complete bullshit all the time, but at least they mostly sound like they believe in it.  John Carradine and his co-star have absolutely no idea what they’re saying, and don’t care enough to try.  Something about making the diving bell too strong.

It pretty much goes without saying that The Incredible Petrified World doesn’t have anything to say.  The entire story, insofar as it goes, is completely without point or plot.  It barely even has a premise.  Various characters take turns moaning and wailing about how they’re gonna be down here for the rest of their lives, but then they recover and get on with things after all.  The men discuss survival strategies and the women complain.  Nothing develops.  The blonde supposedly has an arc, in that at the end she says “my life will be changed from here on out”, but this is the most told and least shown character development of any movie ever.

It’s a complete mystery to me why anyone bothered making this movie.  Most movies have something going on: they want to tell a story, to examine an idea, to showcase an actor, to sell soundtrack albums, to leech money from nostalgic fans of an old cartoon… sometimes these ambitions are cynical but they’re still there.  Even really, really, legendarily bad movies have goals. Foodfight wants you to buy name-brand instead of generic.  Manos: the Hands of Fate wants to prove it’s not as difficult or expensive to make a movie as Hollywood would have you believe.  The Hottie and the Nottie wants to convince you that Paris Hilton can act.  All these movies are miserable fucking failures but you can tell what they were going for.

The Incredible Petrified World isn’t even going for anything.  It just takes some bad actors, stands them in front of the camera for a few minutes, and then lets them go home.  There is literally nothing beneath the surface, and the surface is so insubstantial it barely counts. It’s movie dark matter, adding to the mass of the universe but otherwise completely fucking inert.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #the incredible petrified world #poor john carradine #fuck this movie #60s #non hamlet reviews that mention hamlet

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, LINA! You’ve been accepted for the role of TROILUS with an FC change to Henry Golding. Admin Rosey: I am absolutely HOWLING. So, when I was writing Troilus, I was having an amazing time -- he’s so nuanced and seemingly superficial, but there are so many detailed facets that contribute to his happy-go-lucky attitude. He’s so utterly disarming and charming that, from the interview alone, I couldn’t help but swoon over him. Your development for him promises so much, from the sought-after revelation of Celeste’s infidelity to turning him into a hollow and hungry creature. I’m absolutely over the moon to be putting my precious boy into your hands, Lina. By all means, ruin us all. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Lina. Age | 26 Preferred Pronouns | She/her Activity Level | 5 – Med school honestly wipes the floor with me most days, so I can’t promise daily activity but as I’ve said before, I promise consistency and communication. I’ll request a hiatus if needed, and I won’t disappear or drop-out without warning.   Timezone | Finally back in EST (UTC-5:00) Current/Past RP Accounts | —

In Character

Character | Tomas Sabello -> Could I request an FC switch to ether Henry Golding or Godfrey Gao? I love Bob Morley to pieces but I’ve used him as an FC for long enough that I really struggle to dissociate him from the role I played. I think Henry fits Tomas’ gentle disposition best, but Godfrey has more versatility in terms of acting roles/expression which seems more in line with the mood in Verona and what he may eventually become… I dunno! I’ll leave it to you guys to choose the preferred alternate FC in the event that I do get accepted. I’d be happy working with either one.

What drew you to this character? | I really liked how opposite he is to Viv, honestly. He’s so enamored with emotion, and despite the fact that he’s an actor by trade, he’s an open book when it comes to anything that inspires feeling within him. I think Tomas loves the idea of love to such an extreme that there’s no thought to guarding himself from it. No amount of pride could keep him from offering his heart up, not even the threat of rejection. He takes and he takes, but he also gives to the people around him, indiscriminately; even to the most insignificant of passersby who’ve touched his life or inspired his creativity in some brief, ephemeral way. While Viv absorbs and safeguards whatever light she finds, Tomas reflects it freely back into the universe, and I really like that dichotomy.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character?

*∆* - Ignorance isn’t bliss, it’s oblivion: I’ll keep this point short and sweet; I want Tomas to find out about Celeste’s infidelity and for his heart to get absolutely shattered in the process. It could be sooner, later or whenever, but I think we’re all holding our breaths for that to happen in the story, and I’d love the opportunity to portray that.

*∆* - To fight one’s nature is a losing battle: This is a plot contingent on the arc of his relationship with Celeste and details pertaining to their marriage (how long it takes for him to find out she’s cheating on him, what they do with that information, if they divorce, etc.). But essentially, I’d like to show Tomas’ struggle with his own fidelity because in his bio, he strikes me as the sort of character that doesn’t settle on one lover easily. And he loves Celeste with every inch of his being and right now that’s what’s keeping him faithful, but I think that even if her infidelity isn’t revealed, eventually Tomas will start to feel the strain. He’ll notice the little signs along the way that hint that she doesn’t quite love him the way he loves her. I think those would put cracks in the marriage even if Isabella wasn’t in the picture. I’d like to explore those, and how little micro-tensions crop up in chronic relationships when one partner feels like they’re pulling all the weight. I want to dig into that and cast the lens on a quietly troubled relationship, and I want to see how far it pushes Tomas in response. Does he grow colder?  Does he seek intimacy elsewhere? Does he fall into the same temptation and cheat on Celeste, whether physically or emotionally? Let’s find out!

*∆* - Any way the wind blows: I’ve always imagined Tomas to be the unsettled sort, in all senses of the word. His loves have always been transient and fleeting, his decisions (both in leaving Rome and marrying Celeste) seem rash and impulsive… I think capriciousness is a trait of his that extends to all facets of his life. So one headcanon I have for him is that now that he’s on sabbatical from acting, he’d want to try his hand at something new. Activities or careers that he gets excited by every few weeks and actively chases until something changes and then he drops the ball and moves on, certain he’ll find his luck elsewhere. I think it’d be interesting to see him get into all sorts of mix-ups while catering to this instinct, and maybe unintentionally making himself a nuisance to other characters in their line of work in the rp. Just this over-excited dude picking up positions and then dropping them as if life’s his own picnic… It’s definitely going to rub some people the wrong way and I’m here to see it happen!

*∆* - The hardest of hearts:  … I’m intrigued by Tomas’ deep resentment of Roman Montague. His bio implies that it’s his acting experience which primes him to look at Romeo as if he’s also an actor, playing a part he doesn’t deserve. But I think it goes deeper than that. I think canonically, even, Tomas’ character seems to have a lot in common with Romeo from Shakespeare’s original, or at least, the earliest version of Romeo that we see. Lovelorn and lackadaisical, an innate predisposition for goodness, and yet undoubtedly leaving lovers a little carelessly in his pursuit of love, etc. So the way I see it, beyond his judgment of Roman as being unfit to rule, I think Tomas doesn’t like him bc he sees in Roman all of the same flaws he recognizes subconsciously in himself. It’s always easier to see our flaws through a mirror. I’m interested in seeing how far Tomas would go to spite Roman in order to avoid having to confront himself. The fact that Celeste is still tied to the Montagues would also be a continuous dilemma for Tomas, who dislikes both mobs. Depending on what plots come up, I might even entertain the thought of getting Tomas tied up in Capulet business, with the singular goal of bringing down Roman Montague.

*∆* - … Destroys itself in the end: In his bio, it’s alluded that Tomas took from both his parents when it came to his nature. He loved as frequently and as persistently as his mother, but destroyed those in his wake as surely as his father; leaving his path littered with broken hearts. I want to see that side of Tomas again. Except this time, instead of it being an accident of youth and of too much ignorance, I want it to be intentional. I feel like heart-break would leave him hollow and hungry, and I want to experience that side of him. I think his capacity for hurt is almost equally potent to his capacity for love, and that’s what makes him such a compelling character in my eyes.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Through a well-developed plot, yes.

In Depth

These interview chairs are always so stiff that Tomas has to wonder whether it’s intentional. Maybe it’s to keep him from falling asleep, but he’d never do that. He likes giving interviews for the most part. Of course, it was easier in his early twenties; when he had very little in the ways of a filter but was blessed with the circumstances in life that permitted him to get away with it. Oh, and an adoring audience. That always helped of course. These days, as a married man in a new city, he has to be more careful with his tongue.

That doesn’t make him any more careful with his smiles, however. And right now he’s aiming one of his most brilliant at the interviewer who’s already started asking him questions. They’re three minutes in, but she hasn’t returned any of his good cheer so far, and that’s uncommon. He’s remembered all his pleasantries, he’s been considerate enough in opening doors and waiting to be seated - but still, nary a smile. He doesn’t mind too much, but it makes his job so much more enjoyable when they do. And as a result, Isabella Gagliano is both a damper and a challenge. But before Tomas can engage her into lowering her defenses, she’s presented him with the next in a series of fan-chosen questions.

“What is your favorite place in Verona?”

”The Two Gentlemen. Certainly the best bottle of pinot grigio that I’ve ever had.” Tomas tells her, lips pressing together as sweetly as the juice from those sticky wine grapes. “You wouldn’t be remiss either if you tried the risotto al tastasal. That’s a real recommendation, you know?” He stage-whispers with a grin, “Off-the record.” But if Isabella takes note, he can’t tell.

The truth is, it’s a lie. A white lie, he consoles himself, because sometimes, the truth is too heavy a price to pay. The truth is that his favourite place in all of Verona is the recently abandoned Multisala Rivoli. It’s a cliche, he knows, an actor finding his second-home inside of a rundown movie-theatre. But it isn’t for the movies that he goes, nor out of any misplaced vainglory. Rather, it’s the promise of nondescript privacy that draws him like a bee to to honey. There, he can meet his new friends beyond the prying eyes of the media. There, he has a clandestine spot to escape the humdrum of the city for a few hours, alone with his thoughts. But it’s not a truth he’s ready to share, and moreover, the Montagues will like this answer better. It’s a nod to their territory; a little more promotion for their best-boasted restaurant. He refuses to join them, he refuses to share in their cause, but maybe sliding in such harmless tips will convince them to lay off of Celeste’s case and stop pressuring her to pressure him to join. Truth and politics don’t mix. Every time a video begins recording, Tomas is well aware of that. But above all, an actor must always remember his part.

“What does your typical day look like?”

“What, like a twenty-four hour play-by-play?” He asks playfully. “No one’s that interesting,signorina, I promise. I remember I was asked a similar question in an interview two or three years ago. I think it was for Sorrisi e Canzoni? Or maybe GQ…. Either way, it was a much more exciting answer back then. Plays, parties, private jets… ” Tomas reminisces fondly, but not fond enough to want to trade it in for his present. “I hate to disappoint, but it’s not the same anymore. I’m a married man on sabbatical now, remember??” He says, directing the question towards the camera before letting his gaze find Isabella once more. His life is quieter now, but happier too. “Not that it’s boring by any stretch. I’d recommend marriage, actually. I know it’s done wonders for me! But if I start talking about her and all the ways she’s changed my routine everyone will be rolling their eyes and complaining about cavities before this interview’s over.” Tomas chuckles, thinking of the myriad of ways his daily life has become synonymous with Celeste. What time she wakes, what time she leaves, when she comes home or when he gets to persuade her out of the house on little dates… He has a life outside of Celeste to be sure, but it’s only around her that he’s really reminded of what he’s working towards. Like Eros and Psyche, he thinks. He loves, but she sets fire to his love and gives it true sustenance. A future, a family, a very happy ending - That’s all he wants these days.

“What has been your biggest mistake thus far?”

He laughs at that, taken aback by the girl’s directness. “Is that really what it says on your sheet??” He cocks a brow, leaning forward as if to sneak a peek. “Damn… That’s harsh.” Sometimes, his fans seem like tiny mosquitoes; hungry for every teeny-tiny drop of his blood as they submit questions as invasive as these. “I have to think about that one…” Tomas admits with a bemused shake of his head. “I try not to think of my experiences as mistakes. Even the ones that might feel like it initially. Everything happens for a reason, doesn’t it? Don’t you believe that?” He looks to his interviewer as though hoping to coax another answer out of her, but she doesn’t indulge him. He’s always preferred dialogue to monologue, despite his choice of career. It takes an exchange of ideas to see the world through new lenses, and he can’t do that while talking continuously about himself. But another pensive, stolen glance at Isabella tells him that she probably won’t care what his answer is, so long as he gives one. He could make it up right here on the spot - something like ‘I’ve started a third gang in Verona to spite the Mobs‘ or ‘I kicked a dog once’, and she probably wouldn’t bat an eyelash. He wonders why. He wonders why she’s so determinedly expressionless.

“Do you play Poker?” Tomas asks without warning. He hadn’t meant for that to come out of his mouth but somehow it does and it takes another laugh and a wave of his hand to dismiss it. “Sorry. But you could! It’s impressive actually - in a good way. To answer your question, I think I’ll have to keep this one to myself.” It’s apologetic but firm, because his biggest mistake is failing his parents. Of all the roles he’s played thus far, that of ‘son’ has always left him most wanting. He couldn’t fix their marriage. He couldn’t inspire their divorce… To this day, his adulterous mother and destructive, ill-tempered father remain tethered to each other. Two rusting anchors, weighing themselves down to the bottom of the sea-bed… Most days, Tomas tries hard not to think about it. But there are some moments, moments when he’s feeling low, that he wonders if he’s responsible for their unhappiness; wonders if he couldn’t have done more to help them find happiness, along the way. Today is one of the predetermined no-thinkdays though. The days he’s giving interviews always are. “Sorry about that… Got anything else on your nifty list?” He prompts her, hoping to move on to a happier topic.

“What has been the most difficult task asked of you?”

This question too, gives him pause. More than he’d like. There’s the shadow of fleeting suspicion as he steals a glance at Isabella, wondering if they’re posing these questions on purpose to throw him off. But what cause would a reporter have to do that? You’re being silly,he chides himself, mulling over the question. Again, he knows the real answer.

Commitment.

It isn’t easy to choose a single person in this life, Tomas thinks. To narrow his expansive romantic inclinations and promise them to one individual and one individual only. But it’s a choice he reminds himself of every morning when he wakes up, when he cracks an eye open only for his gaze to fall on the familiar comfort of Celeste’s blazing red hair, like a halo around her cherubic face. It’s a choice he must remember when he’s comparing paintings with Juliana and hears the clear-bell tone of her laughter echo in the museum. A choice he must remember when his fingers find the soft, unwritten skin beneath Santino’s wrist as they look for stars in a midnight sky. A choice he recalls even as he listens to Paola recount the tales he’s missed in her life; eyes dancing with ferocious passion and he thinks what if, what if…

… But it’s a struggle he dares not reveal. It would insult his beloved wife, it would make a mockery of the vows they took in front of that altar, all those months ago. Worse still, it would surely garner derision from the audience, especially from his most die-hard fans; some of who still count on the failure of his marriage in order to regain the bachelor fantasy they’d attached to their idol. But idols were effigies of gold and silver. He was not an idol, he was a man of flesh and blood and feeling. Do you understand?… You will never understand me like she has, he wants to rebuke them. But there’s an old fondness that he can’t help when it comes to those who loved him first. And so his countenance softens as he answers the reporter’s question. “The most difficult task for me, has been leaving behind all my loved ones in Rome. My friends, my family, my fans…” He presses his fingertips to his lips for a moment before waving them towards the camera, sending the kiss to those who’ll hope for it most, when the interview airs tomorrow night. “I send my love, and I’m humbled by your continued support.”

“What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?”

“It’s-… It’s insanity.“

Now the Montagues won’t like that. But he feels the answer so strongly, and with so much conviction that he thinks the glassy brightness in his eyes would betray him anyway. Some lies are too big to swallow, even for an actor. “Brutal and unnecessary - do they even remember what they’re fighting for?” He asks Isabella, though he thinks she’s probably no closer to answering that than the other Veronesi. “You know, the stories say that it’s been so many decades now that no one knows any more… Isn’t that silly? To fight over something that you can’t even remember?” But deep down, Tomas knows it’s not that simple. Because mobs don’t need an impetus; not when there’s so much profit to be made in criminality. All the rest is just stories, to play on the sympathies of a winsome public. He should know… He played on that same, guileless sympathy, night after night after night on a front-lit stage. But art is one thing, war is another. And Celeste is tied up in this war, much as he hates to think about it.

“Maybe I’ll go back to Rome one of these days,” Tomas announces abruptly, shifting upright in his chair. There’s an ardent gleam in his eyes because he likes thinking in maybes. They’re so much more satisfying than the limitations of what is or isn’t strictly possible. “I’d like to take my wife with me. She’s never been… Can you believe it?? Never been to Rome… We could start there, then maybe a tour of Europe. Maybe a second honeymoon. I’m sure she’d like that.” He doesn’t know if that’s true, he doesn’t know if he can ever return to Rome, but it has a romantic ring to it nonetheless. And when has Troilus ever been able to deny the sweet-nothing whispers of romance, even as a city tears itself apart around him?….

Never, he thinks… Not even then.

——————————————-

(Thank you for Reading!!)

#accepted #accepted: troilus

[bythexdreadwolf]

30 DAY PROMPT CHALLENGE.

day 02: dance.

SOLAS (FEN’HAREL)//NERYS LAVELLAN.  WORD COUNT: 1,833. BY KAZ. AO3 LINK.

Her hand wraps briefly around the well-worn lover’s knot at her wrist, fingers gently grazing the ragged twists and knots as her eyes close.  She inhales, once.  Twice.  Those that have seen her on the battlefield know that this is the calm before the fury of the storm is unleashed.  Her weight rests on her left leg, while her right foot barely hovers above the ground directly behind her stave.  In a flash, those golden eyes fly open and she kicks up the stave, and the fight begins.

She launches her assault against him immediately, aiming a four-point strike to his midsection.  He blocks and she grins, throwing her weight into where their staves crash against each other.  He’s momentarily caught off-guard; he’s seen her in battle, he knows what she’s capable of.  But watching it and being on the receiving end of those blows, even without her magic, is completely different.  For a moment, a sliver of doubt crosses his mind, especially as he remembers her almost-hungry grin when he accepted her challenge to practice.  That same predatory grin is on her lips now and he scowls.  

“You’re the one who said no magic, Pavus,” she reminds him, before ducking under his forward blow and spinning out of the way as if she weighed nothing.  He has no blows to her four.  The first to ten or the first in the dirt buys the other whichever book they desire from Val Royeaux.  Not even ten minutes in, and he wishes he’d just cut his losses and handed her the gold.  

“Yes, and I am beginning to regret that decision.”

“Oh?  Is the big bad Altus admitting defeat so soon?” she mocks, spinning on the ball of her foot as he tries to strike at her ribs.  His own are smarting from her blows and he’s yet to return the favor.  A crowd’s begun to gather.  

“Never,” he growls and launches a flurry of blows at her, each of which she expertly blocks before resting her stave across her shoulders, dancing through the dirt away from him.  This was what she loved, the thrill of the fight, the familiar ache of exhaustion in her muscles.

“Stand still, damn you.”

Nerys simply cocks an eyebrow, though her eyes flash with amusement.  She’s too good at this.  Her years training as First to her clan meant more practice with combative magic.  To protect herself, to protect her clan, that was her sacred duty.  This dance was as natural to her as breathing.  She kept her weight on the balls of her feet as she dodged, light and swift.  Twice he managed to catch her on the thigh.

Four to two.  

“Knock him on his ass, Boss!” the Iron Bull called from the sidelines, and then that amused grin turned feral.  

Her assault was relentless as she lithely jumped back into the fray, spinning her staff in an arc around her body that struck him in the ribs and momentarily stole the breath from him.  Even with the way she was holding herself back, there was still enough force behind the strike that it was going to bruise.  

Five to two.  

Another four point strike, two of which he blocks, two of which he doesn’t, but he lands a hit on the base of her spine that sends her hissing.  

Six to three.

“I do believe I’m winning,” she says, pushing a sweaty curl out of her face.

He just laughs and brings his staff down to meet hers with a thunderous crack.  He tries to press the advantage he has on her in size and strength, but she simply ducks out of the way, spinning and smacking his backside before she spins again and knocks his feet out from in under him.

“Yield?” she asks, one foot on his chest as she leans on her stave.  

He glowers up at her, that perfectly primped moustache still, somehow, miraculously intact.  He must magic the damn thing into place.  

“Never,” and one hand is reaching out to swipe her ankle.  She topples with a yelp, dropping her stave into the dirt, landing on top of him.  For a moment they both grapple, both fighting to pin the other.  The crowd is jeering at this point, Bull’s cries of ‘Kick his ass!’ ringing the loudest, before she uses his weight against him and pins him to the dirt with her knees on his chest and her hand at his throat.

“Yield?” she presses with a grin and Dorian lets loose a string of curses in Tevene that she must get him to teach her.

“Very well, you cheating little vixen, I yield.”

She clambers off of him and helps him to his feet as the crowd cheers.  She dusts him off and gives him a one-armed hug.  

“I do believe that’s going to bruise.”

“It is simply your ego that has suffered, Dorian, not your backside.”

Dorian smacks her on her calf playfully on his way out of the sparring ring, muttering curses the whole while.  She makes her way over to the fence and retrieves her water skin, uncorking it and surveying the crowd around her.  Many of them offer their praises on the display of her abilities and Dorian’s, but she doesn’t really hear them.  Despite the chill in the air, there’s sweat beading down her back.  She ties her tunic under her breasts and sweeps her hair off her neck, tying it back with a leather thong she keeps on her wrist.  Her muscles ache in that delicious way after a good fight, and she finds she’s wanting more.  She wants to practice until she collapses into a deep sleep, until exhaustion claims her body and her mind and she can forget everything.

Forget her clan.  Forget her daughter.  Forget the atrocities she has seen and the fact that she’s going to die in this gilded cage because to abandon this fight is to abandon her clan for true.  She tilts the skin back and takes a long, icy drink, the cold shock of water soothing her parched throat.  She’s so lost in the hammering of her own heart and her thoughts that she almost doesn’t hear his near-silent footfalls approach her through the crowd of soldiers chatting and taking up their own arms to spar.

“That was a well-fought match.  My congratulations on your victory, vhenan.”

He’s surveying her with a sense of pride and awe and something else that has his pupils blown wide.  Hunger.  One predator to another.  She knows that look well.  She wears it every time he kisses her.  It’s been a long time since anyone’s looked at her like that.

“Ma serannas, Solas.  Care to join me?  I could use a challenge.”

He laughs, deep and throaty, and she feels a heat blossom in her belly.  What she wouldn’t give to feel that laugh ghosting over her ear, or on the hollow of her throat, or on her lips…

“Ma nuvenin, vhenan.  Without magic, I presume?”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you,” she smirks.

He climbs over the fence with a grace that seemingly doesn’t fit his unassuming demeanor, taking Dorian’s discarded stave from where he’d stashed it on the weapons rack and rests it across his shoulders.  His movements are lazy, slow, the careful air of someone who is in their element.  

This should be fun.

She crouches into a different stance than the one she used with Dorian.  Solas is harder to read, more prone to stealth attacks than flashy moves or brute force.  He is as seasoned a warrior as herself, and part of her wonders what manner of things someone who claims to simply adventure to learn more of the Fade has come across.  

She makes the first move, an overhead strike that he manages to parry.  It sends a shockwave down her arms and she laughs, high and light.  His face is carefully blank as he spins the staff around his body with him, aiming for her hip.  

She doesn’t dodge quick enough.  One to nothing.

An uppercut misses its mark as he knocks her staff away.  She lands a hit on his shoulder.  He catches her on the arm.  He’s restraining himself, even more than she had with Dorian.  It’s frustrating and exhilarating all at once.  She’s lost herself watching him fight before.  He’s graceful, elegant.  Deadly.  It sends a thrill through her as they circle each other, and she wishes he would just let go.  She wants to see just what he’s made of.

Nerys rushes in and is blocked.  Her breathing is becoming labored, but aside from the furrow in his brow, he’s showing no signs of strain.  Two to one.  They’re too well-matched.  She tries to duck into his space, but in a move she doesn’t see coming, he manages to trap her between his body and his stave, the wood held lightly against her throat.  

“Dread Wolf take you,” she hisses, though there’s amusement coloring her tone.  Three to one.  She can feel, rather than see, his smug smile before he releases her and she thrusts, trying to take advantage of his open core.  Parried.  She’s starting to understand Dorian’s frustration.  They keep at it, and the crowd that was watching her and Dorian has now tripled in size.  She thinks she spies the Commander in the background and Cassandra beside Bull, but there are no catcalls this time.  

No noise permeates the crowd as they watch the two mages circle each other, each trying to find an opening, waiting for one of them to expose their weaknesses.  There’s a tension in the air.

Apostate versus apostate.  She takes a second to ground herself, feeling the cold, packed earth beneath her toes.  Pitted, from too many fights.  Easy to lose your balance, she notes, and she side-steps his staff to find more even ground.  Balance, Deshanna echoes in her mind.  Find your balance.  

And then she lets go.  In the ring, he is not her vhenan.  He is simply an obstacle that must be overcome.  He matches her blow for blow, his breathing becoming labored.  She lands another hit.  Then another.  Three to three.  But they feel like hollow victories.  She gets the sense that he’s toying with her, like a cat plays with a mouse.  She missteps, and he pins her against his chest again.  

“Do you wish to yield?” he asks, sounding amused.

“Never,” she echoes Dorian, and she reaches and grabs his stave with one arm, momentarily taking him off guard.  With a yank and a twist, she slips out from his arms and whacks him on the hip.  He laughs, and the sound is so genuine it makes her pulse flutter.  And then, suddenly, he’s turned the fight.  Not that it took much effort on his part, really.  He hovers on the balls of his feet above her, smirking.  

“I do believe this dance is mine.”  

#solavellan #solas x lavellan #solas x female lavellan #solas x inquisitor #dragon age fanfic #da fanfic #char: solas #char: dorian #char: nerys #:story time with k

[julibf]

ARYA AS A QUEEN ...... PART 2

( Artwork by John Picacio) I talked a little about my theory that both Stark girls will end this story as Queens here (X) And in my last post I tried to show a little bit how much foreshadowing exist about the idea of Arya being a Queen. So this meta wil be a continuation of my first post. 

I believe that Arya entire story arc, especially in the first books was written with the idea that she will lead people in the end of this story. This is going to be long.....................................................................

 SHE HAS GREAT INSTINCTS FOR TRUSTING PEOPLE:

 Not only she was suspicious of Cersei and Joffrey from the beginning of this story she also knew it that she could trust Gendry with the information about her real identity, even if Yoren advised her against it. Arya has always demonstrated that she has sharp instintics when it comes to know who she should trust or not.

 "I hate them," Arya confided, red-faced, sniffling. "The Hound and the queen and the king and Prince Joffrey. I hate all of them.”

 A Game of Thrones - Arya II

Arya bit her lip. She remembered what Yoren had said, the day he had hacked off her hair. This lot, half o' them would turn you over to the queen quick as spit for a pardon and maybe a few silvers. The other half'd do the same, only they'd rape you first. Only Gendry was different, the queen wanted him too. "I'll tell you if you'll tell me," she said warily.

"I would if I knew, Arry . . . is that really what you're called, or do you have some girl's name?"

Arya glared at the gnarled root by her feet. She realized that the pretense was done. Gendry knew, and she had nothing in her pants to convince him otherwise. She could draw Needle and kill him where he stood, or else trust him. She wasn't certain she'd be able to kill him, even if she tried; he had his own sword, and he was a lot stronger. All that was left was the truth. "Lommy and Hot Pie can't know," she said.

"They won't," he swore. "Not from me."

"Arya." She raised her eyes to his. "My name is Arya. Of House Stark."

"Of House . . ." It took him a moment before he said, "The King's Hand was named Stark. The one they killed for a traitor."

A Clash of Kings - Arya V

SHE CARES ABOUT HER PEOPLE AND THOSE WHO FOLLOW HER AND REFUSES TO LEAVE THEM BEHIND:

 As I was reading Arya’s chapters in the first books its quite strong the bond she has with those around her. She sees them as her pack and cant leave them behind, even when her own safety its a risk. You can see why her friends would become loyal to her and follow her lead in the future. 

 Quick as that he was gone, off to fight, sword in hand. Arya grabbed Gendry by the arm. "He said go," she shouted, "the barn, the way out." Through the slits of his helm, the Bull's eyes shone with reflected fire. He nodded. They called Hot Pie down from the wall and found Lommy Greenhands where he lay bleeding from a spear thrust through his calf. They found Gerren too, but he was hurt too bad to move. As they were running toward the barn, Arya spied the crying girl sitting in the middle of the chaos, surrounded by smoke and slaughter. She grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to her feet as the others raced ahead. The girl wouldn't walk, even when slapped. Arya dragged her with her right hand while she held Needle in the left. Ahead, the night was a sullen red. The barn's on fire, she thought. Flames were licking up its sides from where a torch had fallen on straw, and she could hear the screaming of the animals trapped within. Hot Pie stepped out of the barn. "Arry, come on! Lommy's gone, leave her if she won't come!"

Stubbornly, Arya dragged all the harder, pulling the crying girl along. Hot Pie scuttled back inside, abandoning them . . . but Gendry came back, the fire shining

A Clash of Kings - Arya IV

  “When they finally summoned the nerve to steal back into the ruins the next night, nothing remained but blackened stones, the hollow shells of houses, and corpses. In some places wisps of pale smoke still rose from the ashes. Hot Pie had pleaded with them not to go back, and Lommy called them fools and swore that Ser Amory would catch them and kill them too, but Lorch and his men had long gone by the time they reached the holdfast. They found the gates broken down, the walls partly demolished, and the inside strewn with the unburied dead. One look was enough for Gendry. "They're killed, every one," he said. "And dogs have been at them too, look."

"Dogs, wolves, it makes no matter. It's done here."

But Arya would not leave until they found Yoren. They couldn't have killed him, she told herself, he was too hard and tough, and a brother of the Night's Watch besides. She said as much to Gendry as they searched among the corpses.

A Clash of Kings - Arya V

 "He's going to die, and the sooner he does it, the better for the rest of us. We should just leave him, like he says. If it was you or me hurt, you know he'd leave us." They scrambled down a steep cut and up the other side, using roots for handholds. "I'm sick of carrying him, and I'm sick of all his talk about yielding too. If he could stand up, I'd knock his teeth in. Lommy's no use to anyone. That crying girl's no use either."

 "You leave Weasel alone, she's just scared and hungry is all." Arya glanced back, but the girl was not following for once. Hot Pie must have grabbed her, like Gendry had told him.

"She's no use," Gendry repeated stubbornly. "Her and Hot Pie and Lommy, they're slowing us down, and they're going to get us killed.

 A Clash of Kings - Arya V

 ……….

The guards shoved Gendry inside with the boy and barred the doors behind them. Just then, a breath of wind came sighing off the lake, and the banners stirred and lifted. The one on the tall staff bore the golden lion, as she'd feared. On the other, three sleek black shapes ran across a field as yellow as butter. Dogs, she thought. Arya had seen those dogs before, but where?

It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that they had Gendry. Even if he was stubborn and stupid, she had to get him out.

A Clash of Kings - Arya V

 She would make much better time on her own, Arya knew, but she could not leave them. They were her pack, her friends, the only living friends that remained to her, and if not for her they would still be safe at Harrenhal, Gendry sweating at his forge and Hot Pie in the kitchens. If the Mummers catch us, I'll tell them that I'm Ned Stark's daughter and sister to the King in the North. I'll command them to take me to my brother, and to do no harm to Hot Pie and Gendry. They might not believe her, though, and even if they did . . . Lord Bolton was her brother's bannerman, but he frightened her all the same. I won't let them take us, she vowed silently, reaching back over her shoulder to touch the hilt of the sword that Gendry had stolen for her. I won't.

A Storm of Swords - Arya I

   COMMAND COMES NATURALLY TO HER

Even at a very young age, its Arya who is shouting the orders while escaping Kings Landing. Its Arya who tells the other boys what to do; Its Arya

 "All the time, with no one else to help? We'll never do it. Gendry was the strong one. Anyhow, I don't care what you say, I'm going back for him." She looked at Hot Pie. "Are you coming?"

Hot Pie glanced at Lommy, at Arya, at Lommy again. "I'll come," he said reluctantly.

"Lommy, you keep Weasel here."

He grabbed the little girl by the hand and pulled her close. "What if the wolves come?"

"Yield," Arya suggested.

A Clash of Kings - Arya V

  Its Arya, who plans and orchestrates hers, Gendry and Hot Pie escape from Harrenhall.

  “At the forge she found the fires extinguished and the doors closed and barred. She crept in a window, as she had once before. Gendry shared a mattress with two other apprentice smiths. She crouched in the loft for a long time before her eyes adjusted enough for her to be sure that he was the one on the end. Then she put a hand over his mouth and pinched him. His eyes opened. He could not have been very deeply asleep. "Please," she whispered. She took her hand off his mouth and pointed.

For a moment she did not think he understood, but then he slid out from under the blankets. Naked, he padded across the room, shrugged into a loose roughspun tunic, and climbed down from the loft after her. The other sleepers did not stir. "What do you want now?" Gendry said in a low angry voice.

"A sword."

"Blackthumb keeps all the blades locked up, I told you that a hundred times. Is this for Lord Leech?"

"For me. Break the lock with your hammer."

“They’ll break my hand,” he grumbled. “Or worse.”

“Not if you run off with me.”

“Run, and they’ll catch you and kill you.”

“They’ll do you worse. Lord Bolton is giving Harrenhal to the Bloody Mummers, he told me so.”

_Gendry pushed black hair out of his eyes._ “So?”

She looked right at him, fearless. “So when Vargo Hoat’s the lord, he’s going to cut off the feet of all the servants to keep them from running away. The smiths too.”

“That’s only a story,” he said scornfully.

“No, it’s true, I heard Lord Vargo say so,” she lied. “He’s going to cut one foot off everyone. The left one. Go to the kitchens and wake Hot Pie, he’ll do what you say. We’ll need bread or oakcakes or something. You get the swords and I’ll do the horses. We’ll meet near the postern in the east wall, behind the Tower of Ghosts. No one ever comes there.”

“I know that gate. It’s guarded, same as the rest.”

“So? You won’t forget the swords?”

“I never said I’d come.”

“No. But if you do, you won’t forget the swords?”

He frowned. “No,” he said at last. “I guess I won’t.”

 A Clash of Kings - Arya X

Its Arya who is guiding the boys in their escape from Harrenhall …..

"Do you know where we're going?" Gendry asked her.

"North," said Arya.

Hot Pie peered around uncertainly. "Which way is north?"

She used her cheese to point. "That way."

"But there's no sun. How do you know?"

"From the moss. See how it grows mostly on one side of the trees? That's south."

"What do we want with the north?" Gendry wanted to know.

"The Trident." Arya unrolled the stolen map to show them. "See? Once we reach the Trident, all we need to do is follow it upstream till we come to Riverrun, here." Her finger traced the path. "It's a long way, but we can't get lost so long as we keep to the river."

Hot Pie blinked at the map. "Which one is Riverrun?"

Riverrun was painted as a castle tower, in the fork between the flowing blue lines of two rivers, the Tumblestone and the Red Fork. "There." She touched it. "Riverrun, it reads."

"You can read writing?" he said to her, wonderingly, as if she'd said she could walk on water.

She nodded. "We'll be safe once we reach Riverrun."

"We will? Why?"

Because Riverrun is my grandfather's castle, and my brother Robb will be there, she wanted to say. She bit her lip and rolled up the map. "We just will. But only if we get there." She was the first one back in the saddle. It made her feel bad to hide the truth from Hot Pie, but she did not trust him with her secret. Gendry knew, but that was different. Gendry had his own secret, though even he didn't seem to know what it was.

A Storm of Swords - Arya I

SHE WITNESSE WITH HER OWN EYES HOW MUCH WAR HURTS THE COMMON PEOPLE

 Their captors permitted no chatter. A broken lip taught Arya to hold her tongue. Others never learned at all. One boy of three would not stop calling for his father, so they smashed his face in with a spiked mace. Then the boy's mother started screaming and Raff the Sweetling killed her as well.

 ……..

 Besides his captives, Ser Gregor was bringing back a dozen pigs, a cage of chickens, a scrawny milk cow, and nine wagons of salt fish. The Mountain and his men had horses, but the captives were all afoot, and those too weak to keep up were killed out of hand, along with anyone foolish enough to flee. The guards took women off into the bushes at night, and most seemed to expect it and went along meekly enough. One girl, prettier than the others, was made to go with four or five different men every night, until finally she hit one with a rock. Ser Gregor made everyone watch while he took off her head with a sweep of his massive two-handed greatsword. "Leave the body for the wolves," he commanded when the deed was done, handing the sword to his squire to be cleaned.

 A Clash of Kings - Arya VI

In A FEAST FOR CROWS, Arya will finally arrive in Braavos to start her training as a Faceless Man at the House of Black and White. I believe this part of her storyline was necessary because it will be in Braavos that Arya will learn how to be a warrior and in the end of the day, Westerosis armies will only follow warriors, so it was very important for Arya to experience this part of her journey.

Her journey in the House of Black and White is also a big foreshadowing as her role as a leader in the end. First as Cat of the Canals, she is forced to serve (which is a constant theme in George RRMartin story, he always makes sure, his future leaders spend part of their storyline serving, we will find the same theme on Jon, Sansa and Theon storyline.

"You lie. You are Cat of the canals, I know you well. Go and sleep, child. On the morrow you must serve.""All men must serve." And so she did, three days of every thirty. When the moon was black she was no one, a servant of the Many-Faced God in a robe of black and white. She walked beside the kindly man through the fragrant darkness, carrying her iron lantern. She washed the dead, went through their clothes, and counted out their coins. Some days she still helped Umma cook, chopping big white mushrooms and boning fish. But only when the moon was black. The rest of the time she was an orphan girl in a pair of battered boots too big for her feet and a brown cloak with a ragged hem, crying "Mussels and cockles and clams" as she wheeled her barrow through the Ragman's Harbor.

A Feast for Crows - Cat Of The Canals

 As part of her training, she is being educated in the lessosn of poisons and how to play the game of lies, which its going to be very useful once she returns to Westeros and starts her revenge game.

That was her first lesson. There had been many more.

Poisons and potions were for the afternoons. She had smell and touch and taste to help her, but touch and taste could be perilous when grinding poisons, and with some of the waif's more toxic concoctions even smell was less than safe. Burned pinky tips and blistered lips became familiar to her, and once she made herself so sick she could not keep down any food for days. 

Supper was for language lessons. The blind girl understood Braavosi and could speak it passably, she had even lost most of her barbaric accent, but the kindly man was not content. He was insisting that she improve her High Valyrian and learn the tongues of Lys and Pentos too. 

In the evening she played the lying game with the waif, but without eyes to see the game was very different. Sometimes all she had to go on was tone and choice of words; other times the waif allowed her to lay hands upon her face. At first the game was much, much harder, the next thing to impossible … but just when she was near the point of screaming with frustration, it all became much easier. She learned to hear the lies, to feel them in the play of the muscles around the mouth and eyes.

A Dance with Dragons - The Blind Girl

She is learning on how to use her others senses and not depend only on her eyes, which is very important as a fighter.

Many of her other duties had remained the same, but as she went about them she stumbled over furnishings, walked into walls, dropped trays, got hopelessly helplessly lost inside the temple. Once she almost fell headlong down the steps, but Syrio Forel had taught her balance in another lifetime, when she was the girl called Arya, and somehow she recovered and caught herself in time.

Some nights she might have cried herself to sleep if she had still been Arry or Weasel or Cat, or even Arya of House Stark … but no one had no tears. Withouteyes, even the simplest task was perilous. She burned herself a dozen times as she worked with Umma in the kitchens. Once, chopping onions, she cut herfinger down to the bone. Twice she could not even find her own room in the cellar and had to sleep on the floor at the base of the steps. 

All the nooks and alcoves made the temple treacherous, even after the blind girl had learned to use her ears; the way her footsteps bounced off the ceiling and echoed roundthe legs of the thirty tall stone gods made the walls themselves seem to move, and the pool of still black water did strange things to sound as well.

A Dance with Dragons - The Blind Girl

So, yes. I believe Arya storyline in the books is a hint that she end this story as a queen.  Its no secret to anyone that I believe Sansa will marry her cousin Jon Snow and both of them will rule the 7 kingdoms as King and Queen, so how does Queen Arya works then?

I believe The North will accept to a union to the rest of the Kingdom via marriage, mirroring what happened to Dorne in the past. There is foreshadowing of the North refusing to bend the knee in the end and joining the Union using a marriage alliance in the books:

 "MY LORDS!" he shouted, his voice booming off the rafters. "Here is what I say to these two kings!" He spat. "Renly Baratheon is nothing to me, nor Stannis neither. Why should they rule over me and mine, from some flowery seat in Highgarden or Dorne? What do they know of the Wall or the wolfswood or the barrows of the First Men? Even their gods are wrong. The Others take the Lannisters too, I've had a bellyful of them." He reached back over his shoulder and drew his immense two-handed greatsword. "Why shouldn't we rule ourselves again? It was the dragons we married, and the dragons are all dead!" He pointed at Robb with the blade. "There sits the only king I mean to bow my knee to, m'lords," he thundered. "The King in the North!"

A GAME OF THRONES Catelyn XI

 Funny how Jon Snow fits Lord Greatjon  Umber description of a good King for the North. Jon was Lord Commander of the Nights Watch, he knows about the Wolfswood and follows the Old Gods. So, I predict the North would accept a union as long as Jon married a Stark, which would be Sansa. And just like Dorne was able to keep some independence, the North would also keep the right to call their heirs as Kings and Queens in the North.

  This would parallel what happened when Scotland decided that they no longer wanted to be part of the English Kingdom and rebelled against the crown, starting The Wars of Scottish Independence, were a series of military campaigns were fought between the Kingdom of Scotland and the Kingdom of England in the late 13th and early 14th centuries.

The conflicts came to and end with the The Treaty of Edinburgh–Northampton and a few years later, the Treaty of Berwick (1357). Scotland became an independent country, with its own King and ruler, yet still part of the Great Britain Kingdom. 

And I want to point out this cute foreshadowing that @sherlokiness posted on my last meta about this theory.

Her sister was a queen, why not her?

A Dance with Dragons - Jon XIII

YES, why not Arya too???

#arya stark #game of thrones #sister queens

[theonceoverthinker]

OUAT 3X07 - Dark Hollow

After the BEST WEEKEND EVER, I’m back! Just giving you a heads up -- to say on the timeline, I’m gonna pump these guys out a bit faster than usual, so my reviews may end up a lot shorter.

Anyway, I hope your week wasn’t too...HOLLOW in my absence!

The puns return!!!

Anywho, smart stuff under the cut!

Press Release

Mr. Gold and Regina send Ariel back to Storybrooke with an item that will allow Belle to locate a hidden artifact that could help take down Pan. But unbeknownst to them, two men have broken into the town with the intent to stop them - at all costs. Meanwhile, Emma, Neal and Hook attempt to find Dark Hollow, where Peter Pan’s shadow dwells, in order to capture it, and Mary Margaret is upset with David for keeping his poisoning a secret from her.

Main Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness

Storybrooke

Conflicts where Belle gets to be in the role of hero always have the potential to be great, and while some *cough “The Outsider”* fail, this one does a fair amount better! Belle’s last conversation with Rumple and the little help she can provides makes her moping understandable (Albeit a little annoying) and Ariel’s encouragement and need for this to be successful acts as a great contrast.

I do wish that more went into Belle’s story here. As is, it’s Belle mopes, she hears a keyword or sees something, and she just solves the problem. There’s no either moment of realization on Belle’s part or a conversation that is communicated to Belle that states that she’s already a hero. Well, sort of scratch that because of her conversation with Archie at Granny’s, but it’s never reinforced by anyone. Because of that, while not badly put together, the problem that Belle had at the start of the episode isn’t really solved. It’s just dismissed. For an example of this done right, look at “Bear and the Bow.” There, Merida doesn’t believe that she can save her family on her own, needs to be pushed into solving the problem on her own, and when she does, there’s that moment of realization that she had that potential. This is a flabbier version of that story.

Neverland

“The fact that they both have feelings for you is dangerous, too.” Oh, the love triangle episode. Look, I’ll level with you. The best part of this segment is the end where Emma nips this in the bud and tells them both to fuck off until the mission is done.

And I get that the framing is supposed to be like that. Killian and Neal are so invested in their romances with Emma that they endanger everything, but it’s in no way anything less than an utter pain in the ass to watch. And it leaves such a bad mark on both men, having them prioritize a romance over Henry -- Neal’s son and the motivation of Killian’s redemption! What I would’ve done is stated that Dark Hollow would enhance feelings of bitterness towards one’s companions, making the pettiness here work better. That way, the almost cartoon-y and sabotage-y lengths that the guys went to would’ve been much better. As it stands, it’s annoying to watch and because the segment is from Emma’s POV, it doesn’t even serve to deliver a theme like some other stories of its ilk do for other characters.

Part of me feels like this episode was supposed to be a callout to shippers to tell them to focus on the main story over the ships, but for that to be truly effective and not make Neal and Killian come off so badly, there’d need to be either a lot more self awareness from the two guys (Which would end the story prematurely) or some agent that would artificially push those issues to a place of greater importance than Henry’s safety.

On the flip side, I love Pan’s gambit. It’s amazing seeing Pan and Felix plant the seeds of Pan’s next scheme in a way that makes it look like Henry’s solving the mystery. It’s such a treat seeing this and actually having the knowledge of knowing precisely what Pan is doing beforehand. We see how sharp Pan is as he checks the boxes of exploiting Henry’s goodwill (Wanting to be a hero, the connection between Henry and his father, the love of fairytales) and all the while making him feel clever. It’s not frustrating, but because of the POV, it makes an aspect of this kind of story that’s been so ingrained into our skulls at this point feel fresh! His use of Wendy to paint himself as a hero is fantastic, doing a great job to tilt Henry’s thought process.

Insights - Stream of Consciousness

-”They saved us.” I really love how much everyone cheers over the heroes saving them. Look, the heroes have their faults, but there’s a reason why the town at large stays loyal to them.

-I also ADORE scenes of Storybrooke at large working together. All of the major players are so great!

-I love the overall BIGNESS of the cloaking spell. It something that follows our characters throughout the rest of the series and it’s appropriately epic and not just in the sense that its an obstacle for our “villains.”

-I can’t look at that “Leaving Storybrooke” sign. I just can’t. It makes me so sad!

-”She’ll know exactly what to do.” Rum Rum, just because you can perceive vague shit doesn’t mean everyone else can!

-”Guess you’ll just have to trust me.” Reggie, you are lucky that Ariel is a trusting person because this is shady af!

-”Someone is leaving Neverland.” This line is utterly fantastic, especially with how subtly it’s said. You get a real sense of how embedded Pan truly is with Neverland as a whole.

-*Seethes in anger as fucking C*leman shows up* Fuck you, C*leman.

-”No giant stepping on my Miata!” If Anton were here, he’d take offense to that. ...Also, where IS he? Does he not show up for the rest of the series? If so, I honestly regret not honoring him in my last overview.

-I love how Archie was just anticipating slipping into therapist mode, hungry for that session like I am for that cheeseburger!

-”Now you’ve got a dress code? I seem to recall some Ruby outfits that are seared into my brain.” Grumpy! Bad!

-What is it with red-haired characters in this series ROCKING the color green? Ariel and Zelena just make it look so good!

-”He’s really into being cryptic, isn’t he?” Honey, you have NO idea!

-”It’s good to see you inherited his tunnel vision.” Snowy, you have NO idea.

-”I’m not holding your family prisoner.” I love that subtle bit of gaslighting. No, he’s not holding Henry’s family prisoner, but he is holding HENRY prisoner.

-”It’s a corkscrew, but it’s not what Rumple needs.” I don’t know about that, Belle. He could stab a Lost Boy or two. *shrugs*

-Wow! Some subtle acting from Emiliee! Look at her hands as she holds Pandora’s Box! The subtle shaking is amazing, saying so much about how powerful the box truly is!

-Pan is such a sneaky little bitch. I love how as soon as one plan is discovered, it only takes him another moment to create another plan that accounts for the failings of the last one.

-*Emma almost decapitates Killian with her sword* I’m pretty sure Colin said that that was a blooper that actually made it onto the show! XD

-Hey pre-Underworld Underworld filter! Good to see you!

-I can also understand why David wouldn’t want to tell Snow: For Emma’s sake. She just gets her parents back and then she’d have to lose at least one of them. David was trying to spare her from losing both of them too.

-”You want to tell me how that coconut works?” You should probably tell Jen too because WOW, she hated that prop!

-I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that 99% of Emma’s relief in that scene was Jen’s relief in finally closing that fucking coconut!

-”Providing motivation.” “For what?” “For doing what needs to be done.” Wow. Looks like Rumple’s cryptic-ness is rather genetic.

Arcs - How Are These Storylines Progressing?

The Mission to Find Henry - We now have a way back AND a way to defeat Pan! Things feel like they’re chugging along again, and it works pretty naturally with how the last two episodes went.

Killian’s Redemption - “Why would I have done that [Not tell the group about Neal]?” I like how even as he’s in this love triangle with Neal, Killian doesn’t regret saving him for even a second. That really speaks to Killian’s growth!

Regina’s Redemption - Regina keeping her part of their bargain is a BIG deal in terms of her redemption!

Rumple’s Redemption - Rumple actually says that he will do his best to honor Belle and Ariel’s request to help Wendy and that also is a BIG step! Also, Rumple pointing out that Regina’s jealous of having someone shows a fair amount of self-awareness!

Favorite Dynamic

Henry and Pan. I’ve gone on about them above, but Pan’s understanding of Henry’s personality and subsequent manipulation of that for his own gain is fascinating to watch! Despite only knowing Henry for less than a week, Pan’s got him pegged! He knows the qualities that Henry wants to see in someone he’ll trust and his own aspirations for himself. And though manipulated, Henry is so careful about Pan, showing a lot of intelligence. His “weakness” here is hs kind heart and it’s the perfect aspect on Henry to exploit once it’s clear that method of lying won’t work.

Writer

Kalinda Vazquez and Andrew Chambliss are up again, and I found their storytelling here to be a bit lackluster. The Storybrooke segment was enjoyable, but flabby in terms of delivery and the exact opposite could be said for the Neverland main story. It’s not terrible, but just a little half baked.

Rating

7/10. I wish things had been a bit tighter here. As it stands, this wasn’t OUAT’s best. BUT that’s not to say that there weren’t things I liked. Everything with Pan, Henry, and the Darling siblings was magnificent and Ariel (As usual) is simply a delight)! Also, Emma’s speech at the end where she put the issue of shipping to rest to focus on the mission was just fantastic and an utterly badass moment! I just wished they played more of (Or in the case of Emma’s speech, a better) a role in the main stories.

Flip My Ship - The Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness”

Grumpy Beauty - Once again, we get to see bits of these two working together early on and it’s just the best!

Captain Swan - Okay, I love how Emma’s big point in Killian’s favor was how he told her about Neal. That’s such an earnest, sweet, and Emma-like thing to adore. Also, “so when I win your heart, Emma -- and I will win it -- it won’t be because of any trickery. It will be because you want me.” I love that resolve of Killian’s to not only be with Emma, but to be with her honestly. It speaks to sentiments she values and shows his commitment to his own redemption. ALSO, “I’ve yet to see you fail.” Killian honestly does believe in her!

Swan Fire - I really enjoyed Neal’s apology at the end of the episode and I love how you can see how his returned resolve to focus on Henry had its effect on Emma and was so sincere! <3

Rumbelle - Just look at the way Belle basically blubbers as she first sees Rumple’s face through the sand dollar. It’s so beautiful. Honestly, this whole episode is a love letter to Rumbelle and just how much they mean to each other and trust in each other. “Tell Belle I love her. And that she’s right. I WILL see her again.”

Snowing - I love Snow and David’s argument. It’s so raw and it so clearly comes from this place of love.

Swan Queen - There’s really something to be said for Emma succeeding thanks to her understanding of Regina whereas both Neal and Killian sort of failed her! <3

-----

Again, thank you for your patience with these more rushed out reviews. I really want to stay on schedule and thankfully, there wasn’t a hello of a lot to say here.

Also, thank you to @watchingfairytales! It was lovely meeting half of you guys at the con!

Season 3 Total (66/220) Writer’s Scores: Adam and Eddy (19/60) Kalinda Vazquez (17/40) Andrew Chambliss (17/50) Jane Espenson (10/30) David Goodman (10/40) Robert Hull (10/40) Christine Boylan (10/20) Daniel Thomsen (10/30)

Operation Rewatch Archives

#ouat #once upon a time #watching fairytales #ouat 3x07 #ouat rewatch #jenna watches ouat

[asktemmie-frisk]

The Hermit Couple (Lost and Found Arc)

As Chara and Frisk ran away, they left everything and everybody they loved behind. All they wanted was to be alone, and this what it took? It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right, but it was required if they truly wanted to be alone.

As they made their way to a wooded area near their homeland, Chara and Frisk stopped at a creek to catch their breath.

"Wow. Never thought I could run for 2 hours straight and only get a little winded." Chara said, thoroughly impressed by her body.

"What do you mean a little? All I needed was a deep breath and a little water." Frisk retorted.

"Lucky. Then again, of course you don't need much. You're a temmie. You can expand your body parts as you see fit."

"Yeah. It is pretty cool, especially since I can use my natural assets to fly."

"Okay, you can stop showing off now. We'll need to get something to eat and drink. Got any ideas for food?"

Frisk just shrugged before bowing his head to drink some water.

"Dude. Really? Why are you drinking like that?"

"Fuck you, Chara. At least I don't have to lap it up."

"The way you're drinking the stream water isn't much different. And plus...you know what? Forget it. I need some water."

Chara cupped her hands, dipped them in the stream, and drank up. She did this multiple times until she wasn't thirsty anymore.

"There. Now was that really so hard?" Frisk asked after he quenched his thirst.

"Yes, but it wasn't as hard as you."

Frisk let out an embarrassed yelp.

"How'd you know?"

"Maybe don't watch my ass while I bend over and get some water. Like this."

Chara crawled over and got another cup of water from her hands. Frisk was watching her figure as she was bent over the stream, focusing on her curves. His eyes turned violet, and he licked his lips. Chara initally pretended she didn't notice, but she caught a glimpse after she finished drinking.

"Gotcha! I knew it, perv!"

Frisk got more embarrassed, but he didn't mind at all. Chara noticed his eye color again this time.

"Interesting. Purple means embarrassment or lust, eh?" She teased.

Frisk sat back, supporting himself with his arms, while Chara crawled to him, ending up on top of him.

"Look at you, Frisk. You look so hungry. I bet you'd like to eat something...moist."

Chara was flirting with him, trying to see if he would retaliate.

"You don't look very full yourself, Chara." He rebutted.

"I think you should eat more...meat. Maybe you like hotdogs?"

"Yeah. But the ones the comedian does isn't big enough for me. I like my hot dogs...extra long. Extra long, and extra thick. Like yours."

Frisk and Chara kissed passionately, rolling around until they fell into the water. They separated the second they entered. As they tried to hold their breath, they ran out of air and tried to keep themselves from breathing in the water. They failed, but oddly enough, nothing happened. They were breathing perfectly fine, even though in a logical manner of speaking, they should be drowning.

As they wondered why this was happening, the current swept them to a large pond. It had some various sizes of fish.

"Whoa. This is perfect." Frisk said, ready to chow down.

"Chara, look. There's...fish...we can eat?"

Frisk saw Chara again, only she sprouted tentacles.

"What? What are you looking...at?" Chara asked as she saw what happened to Frisk.

They were amazed. Their bodies adapted to being in water. Chara's body sprouted tentacles so she could move about in the water more easily, and Frisk's legs were replaced with a tail fin.

"Whoa. Frisk, are you a mermaid? How are you doing this?"

"I don't know!" Frisk replied, just as amazed once he looked down at himself.

"I guess maybe temmies are able to breathe underwater and swim naturally? Maybe that's why my kind were at Waterfall for so long."

"Yeah, but that doesn't explain why I'm like this. Maybe my father was amphibious or something? That could explain why I can breathe underwater, too."

"Holy shit. So that could only mean...you and I were born as amphibians. But why? Shouldn't we have gills or something?"

"I think our natural orifices double as gills. Our ears, our eyes, especially our mouths and noses, et cetera, et cetera. The point is we can breathe on land and in water, so we could live here forever if we wanted."

"Yeah. I guess we could. But do we want to? I mean, think about it. Do you think we were too drastic in doing this?"

"To be honest, yes. I just wanted to be left alone, and they wouldn't do that, so that's why you and I went this far, I think."

"I think we fucked up. I mean, sure, we could live here, but what would be the point? Our friends are probably worried sick by now."

Chara and Frisk hung their heads sadly for a moment. Then, the growling of their stomachs persuaded them to ignore their feeling for a moment while they caught some fish. They got at least 4 of a good 10 inches each to gulp down, and got back to the surface.

When they got back up, they noticed they were further downstream. They made it to the shoreline, and got back on land. They placed their fish in piles. Then, Chara tried to go and fetch some firewood, but Frisk stopped her for a second.

"Chara, wait." He said.

"If you're gonna get firewood, don't let it get wet."

"Sure. Don't worry." Chara said, going for the kindling.

After a few minutes, Frisk shook himself dry vigorously until his fur lost enough moisture to turn his legs back to normal. Suddenly, a bear showed up to him, and it wanted the fish. Frisk roared loudly and scared it off. Chara heard the noise and ran back with some dead leaves and twigs.

"Frisk, you cool?" She asked, setting her firewood down.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Some bear tried to steal our fish. Scared it off."

"Yikes. Remind me not to piss you off."

"Remember to not piss my mom off, either."

Chara chuckled as she got a setup for the fire. She found a few nearby rocks and aligned them to make a good spot for the flame. Then, Frisk set it all on fire. The flame burned brightly, and Chara took some of the fish she carried to shore and almost threw it in intil Frisk stopped her.

"Now what, Frisk?"

"Zap the fish. Or eat it straight. Whichever works for you."

"Frisk-"

"Chara, we didn't bring anything to help cook the fish with. It's either that, or risk burning yourself trying to cook it like most people do."

Chara groaned and shocked the fish enough to cook it alive. She sent at least a kilowatt of energy through it for at least a minute. As she confirmed the fish was dead, she took a bite.

"Huh. Not bad. Frisk, ha-HEY! Don't eat it like that!"

Frisk chose to eat his fish raw, just like most animals did.

"Frisk, stop! You're gonna get sick!"

"Then why are you eating an undercooked fish?"

"Wait. My fish is undercooked?"

"Yeah. One minute doesn't cook it completely."

"That explains the still soft texture I'm getting. Ah, fuck it."

Chara went back to eating her undercooked fish. Why does this taste so good? It's not cooked enough, but I can't stop eating it, she thought. The texture of the meat, alongside the blood dripping down her throat, felt and tasted delicious. She was shocked at how she enjoyed it. As she swallowed the ichthyological amuse-bouche, she just glared at her fish. Then she looked at Frisk, noticing how he was eating his fish completely raw. She was astounded.

"Wow. This is amazing. Frisk, is this why you told me to eat it raw?"

"Well, that too. Also, my mom gave me raw fish once. She said my body has an extremely powerful immune system, alongside a perfect digestive tract. My enzymes are powerful enough to cook or destroy anything it touches with the exception of my own organs."

"Wait. You did this before, and you never got sick?"

"My mom let me eat raw meat all the time when I was younger. She said my body is so efficient, I can probably eat garbage and not get sick."

"Well, let's not go that far. However, this fish, I must admit, is good as it is right now."

Chara and Frisk finished eating their fish, and went out to explore the area underwater. Their bodies invited the adaptations it made when Frisk and Chara remained submerged for the first time. They looked around, trying to see what wonders the world of water had in store for them. Although they didn't see much, they did notice a small alcove hidden by the wayer level. Frisk decided to go inside. He couldn't see very well initially because of how dark it was, but then he started seeing what appeared to be the cave, but in visible purple.

"Huh. Well, I certainly didn't expect to see this. Shame there's nothing interesting."

Frisk swam out of the cave. When he got back out, he saw a creature behind Chara, ready to swallow her.

"Chara, behind you!"

Chara looked back to see a alligator next to her. She struck it before anything else could happen. The alligator tried to swim back to Chara in order to eat her whole, but it stopped swimming and died as it got close.

"That's...disturbing." Chara said, swimming back to Frisk.

"Did you just poison that thing?"

"I think so. It just stopped moving. I mean, look around. All the other fish are fine, but this alligator isn't? It's either dead or asleep at this point."

"I don't know how you did that, but it's fucking creepy as shit, babe."

"I know, right? I was just trying to shoo it away."

"I saw you punch it."

"Whatever. Let's get back to land."

After they made their way ashore, they sat by the fire to dry their clothes. Chara used her telekenetic power to wring hers dry; Frisk simply shook himself hard enough to force the water out. He was still a little wet, but nothing a campfire couldn't help with.

After it got dark, they looked around for something to reside in for the time being. They found a cave, but it had a bear inside. Frisk didn't feel like dealing with another bear, so they left the cave alone. After searching for a bit, they found a fallen tree that was hollow. As they looked inside, nothing was present.

"Alright. It's not super comfy, but it'll have to do." Chara said, climbing inside the dead log.

Frisk climbed inside the other end, and he faced his legs to Chara's.

Meanwhile, Sans and everyone else began looking for Frisk and Chara, desperate to get them back. They called out to them, but no one heard them. They tried to get someone to help them look for them, but nobody lived in this wooded area, so their calls for help weren't even considered to exist.

"My goodness. This forest is deserted." Gaster said, admittedly scared.

"Y-y-yeah! It's not exactly w-welcoming, either." Agreed Alphys.

"Well, we cannot just stop looking; my daughter and her boyfriend are out here somewhere. I can feel it." Toriel asserted, believing completely that they were getting closer to finding Chara and Frisk.

The search dragged onward until midnight. Sans and Gaster were starting to lose hope that they would find them.

"Tori, it's midnight. Ya sure they're out here right now? Alive hopefully?" Sans said, feeling less determined than before.

"Hey! Don't talk like that! My wimpy loser and his punk girlfriend are out here! I know it!" Undyne shouted, drawing unneeded attention of wildlife.

"Hey, stop being so loud; the animals are sleeping!" Asriel whisper-yelled.

"Wait! Everybody stop!" Asgore said, detecting a small hint of a familar scent.

"Does anybody smell that?"

Everyone took a deep breath.

"Brother. Sans, our brother is here! I can smell him!" Papyrus happily whispered.

"Good! Good. I got worried. Thought I wasn't goona see him again. But I'm cool now. Kinda."

"Yes, well now that we know Frisk and Chara are around, that means they're not much further away, so all we have to do...is follow their scent!"

Everyone took notice of the smell of butterscotch and chocolate permeating the air. If the scent dwindled, or dissipated completely, they went back to the stronger hints of it. They continued to follow the territorial smell through the forest.

About ten minutes later, they followed the acent until it reached a potency level invasive enough to arouse some of them. The boss monsters started sweating a little, getting hot and bothered. Undyne and Alphys locked their arms together, making flirtatious gestures at each other. The scent had absolutely no effect on the skeletons, however.

"My, my. Smells like butterscotch and chocolate." Toriel said, feeling the effects of the scent as she sat down on a log.

"Yeah. Looking pretty good right about now." Asgore said, breathing in and out doggedly.

"We know what it smell like, Tori." Sans said, feeling annoyed by how thick and scent became.

"Know anything else it might smell like?"

"...And virility."

Sans and Papyrus made a disgusted expression towards the boss monster.

"REALLY?! Ya get the smell of butterscotch and chocolate in ya lungs, and that's all you think it is?!"

Suddenly, the log moved from both ends. Toriel got knocked over, much to her dismay and Asriel's, albeit minor, amusement.

"Wow. Can't believe tha-"

Asriel got hit harder by the scent of butterscotch and chocolate.

"Yikes! That is unusually strong! What the...fuck...caused that. DAMMIT! THAT WAS THEM!"

Asriel realized Frisk and Chara knocked Toriel over by accident, and they tried to sprint to get away. Sans, however, blasted them into two of the trees, which caused both of them to shout in pain.

"HURRY ASRIEL! CAST THAT BARRIER SPELL FOR FRISK AND CHARA! NOW!"

Asriel immediately did as Sans said, trapping the two for a short time. Frisk tried his hardest to claw his way out, but because he didn't have enough soul energy, he lacked the power to do it. Chara didn't bother putting up a fight, for she knew there would be no point.

For the next two hours, Frisk kept clawing at the barrier, trying to wait it out as he thought Asriel would make the spell dissipate. Finally, everyone had enough.

"Frisk, will you stop it, please?" Asriel asked, still keeping that barrier in good standing.

Frisk refused to pay any attention to the boss monster, firmly believing if he kept trying, the barrier would break on its own. Chara got fed up.

"Don't you get it, Frisk?! They win! They trapped us!" Chara said, having had enough of watching Frisk try to free them both.

"Time to give up now."

Frisk stopped clawing at the barrier, realizing Chara was right. They were captured, and they were at the mercy of those they ran away from.

#undertale #frisk (undertale) #chara (undertale) #asriel dreemurr #monster #human #hybrid #temmie #asgore dreemurr #sans #toriel #alphys #papyrus #undyne #boss monster #temmie-frisk #w.d. gaster #sorry for the long post #i'm trying to tell a story here #lost and found arc