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kurottsukii · 3 months

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𝖱𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝖲𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾 | 13 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖶𝗁𝗒

This is a short story based on the show 13 Reasons Why and the song Romantic Homicide by D4vd.

Please be warned that this story contains R*PE, s*icide, s*xual assault, s*xual scenes and m*rder

Introduction

Juliana Foley, the twin sister of Liberty High's most beloved athlete and heart throb, Justin Foley. Now this isn't a cheesy sitcom where one twin is popular, leaving the other twin in the dust of irrelevancy, both twins were born into the poor life. They had a drug addict of a mother and her river of abusive drug addict boyfriends that did not supply her addict but their endless trauma.

They had nothing but the dirty rags as clothes on their backs and each other, well until they met an angel in disguise Bryce Walker. He did not only befriend the Foley twins and basically helped build their nonstop relevancy today's high school popularity but he was their family, their everything. To Justin, Bryce was a best friend, a brother. But to Juliana, he was her first kiss, first love, first boyfriend, her... rapist; but we'll get to that last part later on.

Juliana Foley, Liberty High's cheer captain and class president, the boys there kissed the ground she walks on while the girls envy the air she breaths out. She was pure perfection at it's best, the most likely to succeed in life, they both were. So beloved, so admired but yet one person, and 13 tapes ruined that within seconds. Everything they built together came crumbling down their feet once a girl named Hannah Baker came into their life and shared their secrets. A domino effect has occurred....

Present Time | A week after her death

With how hard her heels slammed against the cold concrete as she stomped her way towards Bryce's house, she was surprised they didn't break under the pressure or even cause a mini earthquake.

The girl practically seething with pure anger after hearing Hannah's tapes, she was the last one Tony gave it to before giving it to Clay Jensen, Hannah's best friend. You'd think with what Hannah said about her, she'd be scared about the tapes coming out like the rest of the group but no. One, her tape wasn't as bad as the others, it was her secrets that was bad. Secrets that Hannah shared. Secrets like Bryce fuckin Walker.

After not only hearing that Bryce was cheating but that he raped Jessica, and Hannah. And to think she was the only one and she bared that constant pain for so long, hoping that he doesn't do it to anyone else and yet he did, behind her back even. Manipulating her to keep her mouth shut and just smile, making her think she was fucking delusional to even think her boyfriend would do that to her but no. She faced the cold hearted truth once hearing those tapes and that truth felt like a bullet to the face.

Upon hearing the tapes she realized something, not only does she know the truth but so does everyone in the friend group, they all knew what kind of monsters they were all while Bryce was the devil and yet...they chose to do nothing, to say nothing as if the tapes were a lie. How could they? Her friends? Her brother? Everyone.

How could they do that to her. Most importantly how could they do that to Hannah.

Her fist left a burning hot pain on themselves for how hard she was slamming them against Bruce's front door. She knew his every day schedule like the back of her hand, his parents are on a business trip leaving him alone and since it's a Saturday, he's definitely by himself; Saturdays were their 50 shades of gray kind of night. I know, so young but yet they fuck like sex hungry thirty year olds.

"Bryce Fuckin' Walker, Open The Damn Door!" Her voice sounded angry but really it withered with pain, afraid that she might cry in his presence about what she just learned. It felt like hours with how long the girl stood there, injuring her fist trying to get her so-called "boyfriend" to open the door. No luck. No luck for a good thirty more minutes and then hearing the sound of a door lock being unlocked made her stop immediately.

Taking a step back to fix her outfit and composer she watched as his face slowly emerged from being the door, looking all handsome with confusion written all over his face. It was hard, it was hard to hate him. After being involved with him for so long, after everything he did for her, for her brother. It was so fuckin hard to hate that face, she fell in love with that face. With that man and to finally come to the conclusion of what he truly is, is so heartbreaking.

Her lips trembled and then flattened as she tried her hardest to speak the words that were already formed and played out in her head. "I heard the tapes." Her tone was quiet, her demeanor was weak, she sounded pathetic, not at all mad as she was minutes ago. She hated how much control he had over her.

His face stayed the same, in fact it was relaxed. Not alarmed at all that his girlfriend now knows the truth. It was like he knew, no matter how he played it, the outcome would be the same, she won't go to the cops and she won't leave him. It was only how he was going to play it out to get that outcome and so, he played the clueless role. "I don't understand what you're talking about."

"The tapes, Bryce." Annoyance danced around her voice, "Hannah Baker's tapes. I heard them, all of them so don't play fucking stupid. Everything. I was right about everything, about who you are and you made me always feel stupid but now I got proof!" She was met with silence, in fact, she was met with a remaining calm composer as if he just knew she was bluffing.

This made her frustrated.

"Why are you not worried?" There was hesitation in her voice, she was confused, angry, and scared all at once. She didn't even recognize the boy she fell in love with. "I—I'll ruin you. I can turn you in, turn them in.."

"No you won't."

No she won't? Why did he say it so casually, so confident. Why wasn't he breaking? ....Why did she want him to?

"Yes- yes I will. You don't know who you're playing with." There, the hesitation sat at the base of her throat, giving him the go that she was bluffing. "No you won't." He stated again, this time disturbing her personal space, his eyes glued to her, his flatten lips twitching into a smirk. " You know why you won't? Because you don't have the tapes right now and your brother is on the tapes, so is your friend Zach, so is your bestie Jessica, everyone Jules. If I go down, we all do. Dominic affect."

Fuck he was right, he didn't even need to bring up the fact that she wouldn't turn him in because she also still love him, maybe that one was obvious but still, she was furious.

With one quick slap that smirk was whipped clean off, she couldn't help it.. She hated how confident he was, how right he was..How calm, like he acknowledged his sins and doesn't have remorse. How could he do that?

To her, to those girls. How could he cheat on her like that? How could he be the main reason a girl killed herself and he doesn't have remorse? She was disgusted. "We're fuckin done. If I see your face or if you even try to talk to me or look in my direction, I'll squeal and bring everyone down with me. If you don't have remorse, I won't either." Her words taste like venom on her tongue but that's how she felt deep in her gut. She hated him, she despised him but with all of that, at the same time it broke her.

He was her angel, her first everything and he turned out to be a devil in disguise and he's protected too, why? He's a rich white boy in America surrounded by money and jock friends that worship him like he's a god. It was sickening really.

Her heels clanked against the concrete once again, making a bitter melody as she walked herself home that night. Hannah and everything she said flashed in her head like a flashback. That poor girl, that poor pitiful girl. You know at the same time Juliana felt bad but she despised the girl too? She went after Jules brother and kept seeing him, she went after Zach and even Bryce. Oh Lord Bryce, just the thought of them two .....it felt like flashes of burning heat burning in her stomach.

Home, she didn't know why she bothered going home. She knew Justin wasn't there, home was the last place the twins would even be. Bryce was always their second home, their hideaway from hell, and now it's not even that for her anymore. Upon arriving at their shitty apartment, Juliana slowly upon the door, mentality cursing at how loud this door can be when they're trying to sneak in, luckily no one was there, well, until she closed the door.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Seth, Juliana and Justin's mom's boyfriend and well, shit bag drug dealer. One time he tried to make a move on her and Justin tried to protect her honor only to get his ass kicked. "I went to Bryce's house " Her words were short and bitter which was strike one to him, but before anything could happen amber saved the day by convincing her lousy, shit hole, white trash boyfriend back to their room, she didn't even bother to look at her daughter. But then again, she was always a boy mom even though she was a shitty mom most of the time.

Letting out a breathy sigh, she quickly ran to her room, locking the door behind her. Tears crept up as her eyes were now swollen with them. God, what the fuck is she going to do.

#13 reasons imagine #fanfic #fyp #netflix #clay jensen #13 reasons why #hannah baker #justin foley #bryce walker #13 reasons season 2 #zach dempsey #murder coverup #mature audiences only #oc #13 reasons why x reader #jessica davies #wattpad

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invisibleraven · 4 months

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Everyone has Mostly Useless Magic Powers AU plz and thank you

-Luke's power is always knowing what you want to eat or drink, which comes in useful when he's working the diner, since he can always recommend the closest item on their menu. The tips for this almost make up for the stupid paper hat.

-Reggie's power to always know where your keys are makes him Ray's favourite, especially when he's in a rush and needs to be gone like, five minutes ago. Reggie glows under the raise every time Ray calls him a lifesaver with a kiss to the forehead.

-Alex's power is super fast pacing speed, so between that and drumming, he's got wicked calves. Willie is most appreciative, even if Alex thinks it's a little weird for his boyfriend to be obsessed with his legs.

-Willie still has his electrical manipulation powers, ala canon. Enough to get the cops off the cases of a few skater bros, but not enough to like, open a bank vault, or bypass the security gate so he can skate in Justin Bieber's empty pool-or so he claims.

-Julie's power is small gardening magic-her plants never need to be watered or trimmed, they just thrive. Usually when she sings to them, so the year she avoided the studio saw a lot of withering on both their parts. But Wake Up brought them-and her-back.

#au headcanon writing exercise #julie and the phantoms

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caplanbuckybarnes · 2 years

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CAPPYS DECADE CHALLENGE

It’s absolutely been forever since I made a writing challenge and I’ve been wanting more fics to read, so alas, here’s a new one for y’all.

updated on April 4 2024 to allow for ANY character you'd like!

Rules:

It’s not necessary to follow me, but it’s always appreciated

There are no deadlines, but please keep me updated on your fics.

Tag the fic #cappysdecadeschallenge

Also tag me in the authors notes (along with the hashtag so I know which Masterlist to place the fic when I post it)

Please tag the proper warnings before the fic

CAN BE ANY CHARACTER YOU HAVE INSPIRATION FOR!!

More than one person can write for the prompts

No RPFs

If this happens to get more reblogs/ participants than I expect I’ll add more songs to each decade.

If you’d like to write for more than one song, please make them separate fics

Can be however long you’d like the fic to be. (If it’s more than 450 words PLEASE use the keep reading feature.

If I do not respond to your fic being posted in 24hours of you posting the fic, please message me a link.

Send me an ask or a DM with your prompt and the character you’re writing for.

50s

I’ve Got You Under My Skin— frank sinatra

Dream A Little Dream of Me —Ella Fitzgerald $ Louis Armstrong

Put Your Head on my Shoulder- Paul Anka

Stupid Cupid- Connie Francis

Pennies From Heaven —- Louis prima

I’m Gonna Get Married —Lloyd Price

Your Cheatin’ Heart — Hank Williams

I Walk The Line — Johnny Cash

We Belong Together — Ritchie Valens

Tears On My Pillow — Little Anthony

60s

My Girl — The Temptations

When a Man Loves a Woman —- Percy sledge

Stand By Me — Ben E. King

Build Me Up Buttercup —- the Foundations

I want you back —- the Jackson 5

I want to hold your hand —- the Beatles

You can’t hurry love -- the supremes

I can’t help myself — four tops

Then he kissed me— the crystals

Can’t help falling in love— Elvis Presley

70s

Dancing Queen— ABBA

I can see clearly now— Johnny Nash

December 1963 — the four seasons

I want you back — the Jackson five

Ain’t no sunshine — bill withers

Jolene — Dolly Parton

You’re so vain — Carly Simon

September — Earth, wind, and fire

Edge of seventeen — Stevie Nicks

80s

Love Shack — b-52s

Jesse’s girl — Rick Springfield

Dancing in the dark — Bruce Springsteen

Africa — ToTo

Never Gonna Give You Up — Rick Astley

Only in my dreams — Debbie Gibson

Careless Whisper — George Michael

Call Me — Blondie

Bohemian Rhapsody— Queen

You to me are everything — the real thing

I got lucky — Elvis Presley

90s

Wonderwall — Oasis

No scrubs — TLC

Fantasy — Mariah Carey

Say my name — Destiny's Child

Waterfalls — TLC

Remember the time — Michael Jackson

Two Princes — Spin Doctors

Torn — Natalie Imbruglia

Iris — Goo Goo Dolls

Kiss From a Rose — Seal

00’s

My Boo — usher, Alicia keys

Not Over You — Gavin DeGraw

Grenade — Bruno Mars

Home — Phillip Phillips

You Found Me — The Fray

Bleeding love — Leona Lewis

Irreplaceable — Beyoncé

Since You’ve Been Gone— Kelly Clarkson

This Love — Maroon 5

If I Ain’t Got You — Alicia Keys

U Remind Me — Usher

I Don't Wanna Be — Gavin DeGraw

‘10s

Diamonds — Rihanna

Talk — Khalid

You Belong With Me — Taylor Swift

Lucky — Jason Mraz

Shape Of You — Ed Sheeran

Treat You Better — Shawn Mendes

Just Give Me a Reason — P!NK

What Do You Mean? — Justin Bieber

Shut Up and Dance — WALK THE MOON

Someone Like You — Adele

no tears left to cry — Ariana Grande

We Don’t Talk Anymore — Charlie Puth

Delicate — Taylor Swift

#cappysdecadeschallenge #Bucky Barnes #Chris evans #Sebastian stan #Steve rogers #moon knight #moonknight #iman vellani #Ms marvel

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joycew-blog · 1 year

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So about the Justin Roiland news...

I've been debating on and off on wither I should post something about this, but I can't stop thinking about it so.... here goes

First off, I really hope the victims are okay and that they get the justice they deserve. What happened to them is messed up and I'm actually quite angry about it.

But I also know that Justin isn't as big a part of the production of R&M anymore and that the show is more than just him. But at the same time the role he plays is quite big. He does voice the main characters and a lot of side-characters, and is co-creator of the show...

As for Rick and Morty fanart, I don't know... I love the show a lot and the characters too. I still love the fanart and discussions I see online. I also have a lot of wips on my computer that I wanted to continue after I got better as well. (I had the stomach flu while I heard the news, so I was already feeling quite bad when I heard about it. And rn I'm still recovering from it) But at the same time it also feels wrong? I want to do stuff, but I also can't bring myself to do it.

I still wanna enjoy it, but it feels wrong to enjoy it

It also doesn't help that the future of the show is very unclear and we've had no official updates from Adult Swim on what's going to happen...

It's very hard to put into words what I'm feeling, cause I'm not sure what I'm feeling...

So it might be a while before I upload art again and I can't guarantee if it'll be R&M fanart. I need to find stability again

#rick and morty #text post #personal #i mainly am still just reeling from the news and just being very disappointed this is happening in the first place #why the fuck cant we ever have nice things...

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istumpysk · 1 year

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Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: The Sacrifice (Asha III) [Chapter 62]

On the village green, the queen's men built their pyre.

[...]

"You do not want to watch this," Aly Mormont said.

"No, but I will." Asha Greyjoy was the kraken's daughter, not some pampered maiden who could not bear to look at ugliness.

Please reconsider.

+.+.+

It had been a dark, cold, hungry day, like the day before and the day before that. They had spent most of it out on the ice, shivering beside a pair of holes they'd cut in the smaller of the frozen lakes, with fishing lines clutched in mitten-clumsy hands.

Night Lamp things!

Big Night Lamp theory chapter, but we're going to hold off until Theon I TWOW to cover it all.

Long story short, holes will be (have been) cut into the frozen lakes surrounding the crofters' village, making the ice susceptible to breaking when overloaded.

Stannis will lure the approaching Frey army onto the lake using a false beacon (his toy sword or a fire) placed on a wooded island.

+.+.+

Six queen's men were wrestling two enormous pinewood poles into holes six other queen's men had dug out. Asha did not have to ask their purpose. She knew. Stakes. Nightfall would be on them soon, and the red god must be fed. An offering of blood and fire, the queen's men called it, that the Lord of Light may turn his fiery eye upon us and melt these thrice-cursed snows.

The author is making it seem as if Asha is the one being sacrificed.

Six stakes, but only four men will be burned. Peculiar.

+.+.+

"What has your southron god to do with snow?" demanded Artos Flint. His black beard was crusted with ice. "This is the wroth of the old gods come upon us. It is them we should appease."

"Aye," said Big Bucket Wull. "Red Rahloo means nothing here. You will only make the old gods angry. They are watching from their island."

The crofter's village stood between two lakes, the larger dotted with small wooded islands that punched up through the ice like the frozen fists of some drowned giant. From one such island rose a weirwood gnarled and ancient, its bole and branches white as the surrounding snows. Eight days ago Asha had walked out with Aly Mormont to have a closer look at its slitted red eyes and bloody mouth. It is only sap, she'd told herself, the red sap that flows inside these weirwoods. But her eyes were unconvinced; seeing was believing, and what they saw was frozen blood.

Red Rahloo kills me.

There's the weirwood island where the false beacon will go. Once again, Stannis will successfully weaponize a tree.

If he were an enlightened man, he might consider following more than one religion, but we can't all be as forward-thinking as Vicky Greyjoy.

But her eyes were unconvinced; seeing was believing, and what they saw was frozen blood.

Are the mountain clans making secret sacrifices to the tree or is that happening on its own?

(Drowned giant!)

+.+.+

"Good. Good. They will serve. Ser Clayton, bring forth the sacrifice."

Ser Clayton Suggs was Godry's strong right hand. Or should it be his withered arm? Asha did not like Ser Clayton. Where Farring seemed fierce in his devotion to his red god, Suggs was simply cruel. She had seen him at the nightfires, watching, his lips parted and his eyes avid. It is not the god he loves, it is the flames, she concluded. When she asked Ser Justin if Suggs had always been that way, he grimaced. "On Dragonstone he would gamble with the torturers and lend them a hand in the questioning of prisoners, especially if the prisoner were a young woman."

Sounds like Ser Clayton Suggs is in for an especially gruesome death.

Count on Daenerys and Stannis to always surround themselves with the best people.

+.+.+

Asha had been as horrified as the rest when the She-Bear told her that four Peasebury men had been found butchering one of the late Lord Fell's, carving chunks of flesh from his thighs and buttocks as one of his forearms turned upon a spit, but she could not pretend to be surprised. The four were not the first to taste human flesh during this grim march, she would wager—only the first to be discovered.

Peasebury's four would pay for their feast with their lives, by the king's decree … and by burning end the storm, the queen's men claimed.

I'm going to be real with you guys, I am not above eating a buttocks if I'm starving to death.

+.+.+

Asha was surprised to see how ordinary they appeared. Not monsters, she realized, only men.

The oldest of the four had been their serjeant. He alone remained defiant, spitting venom at the queen's men as they prodded him along with their spears. "Fuck you all, and fuck your red god too," he said. "You hear me, Farring? Giantslayer? I laughed when your fucking cousin died, Godry. We should have eaten him too, he smelled so good when they roasted him. I bet the boy was nice and tender. Juicy." A blow from a spear butt drove the man to his knees but did not silence him. When he rose he spat out a mouthful of blood and broken teeth and went right on. "The cock's the choicest part, all crisped up on the spit. A fat little sausage." Even as they wrapped the chains around him, he raved on. "Corliss Penny, come over here. What sort of name is Penny? Is that how much your mother charged? And you, Suggs, you bleeding bastard, you—"

Ser Clayton never said a word. One quick slash opened the serjeant's throat, sending a wash of blood down his chest.

[...]

"The serjeant was the clever one," Asha said to Aly Mormont. "He goaded Suggs into killing him." She wondered if the same trick might work twice, should her own turn come.

Smart man.

Does that mean the weirwood got a sacrifice too? How close do you have to be?

+.+.+

"Where is the king?" asked Ser Corliss Penny.

Four days ago, one of the king's own squires had succumbed to cold and hunger, a boy named Bryen Farring who'd been kin to Ser Godry. Stannis Baratheon stood grim-faced by the funeral pyre as the lad's body was consigned to the flames.

Devan Seaworth has been saved!

Let's wait and see if there's a reason for that. Let's wait and see if Devan Seaworth has a higher purpose.

All the same, Devan was not pleased to be here. The lad had taken great pride in serving as a king's squire, and it had wounded him when Stannis commanded him to remain at Castle Black. Like any boy his age, his head was full of dreams of glory; no doubt he had been picturing the prowess he would display at Deepwood Motte. Other boys his age had gone south, to serve as squires to the king's knights and ride into battle at their side. Devan's exclusion must have seemed a rebuke, a punishment for some failure on his part, or perhaps for some failure of his father.

In truth, he was here because Melisandre had asked for him. - Melisandre I, ADWD

+.+.+

Afterward the king had retreated to his watchtower. He had not emerged since … though from time to time His Grace was glimpsed upon the tower roof, outlined against the beacon fire that burned there night and day. Talking to the red god, some said. Calling out for Lady Melisandre, insisted others. Either way, it seemed to Asha Greyjoy, the king was lost and crying out for help.

(dot, dot, dot)

Night Lamp things!

+.+.+

Over his armor of plate and mail Ser Richard wore his quilted doublet, blazoned with three death's-head moths on a field of ash and bone. King Stannis walked beside him. Behind them, struggling to keep pace, Arnolf Karstark came hobbling, leaning on his blackthorn cane. Lord Arnolf had found them eight days past. The northman had brought a son, three grandsons, four hundred spears, two score archers, a dozen mounted lances, a maester, and a cage of ravens … but only enough provisions to sustain his own.

Is that so? Curious.

dot, dot, dot is infallible.

+.+.+

A few white hairs were all that separated him from baldness; his forked beard was equal parts white and grey, but always ragged. Asha thought there was something sour about his smiles. Yet if the talk was true, it was Karstark who would hold Winterfell should they take it.

Reliable narrator Asha Greyjoy.

That's what we call doing a Sansa.

+.+.+

"Lord of Light, accept this sacrifice," a hundred voices echoed. Ser Corliss lit the first pyre with the torch, then thrust it into the wood at the base of the second. A few wisps of smoke began to rise. The captives began to cough. The first flames appeared, shy as maidens, darting and dancing from log to leg. In moments both the stakes were engulfed in fire.

"He was dead," the weeping boy screamed, as the flames licked up his legs. "We found him dead … please … we was hungry …" The fires reached his balls. As the hair around his cock began to burn, his pleading dissolved into one long wordless shriek.

Asha Greyjoy could taste the bile in the back of her throat. On the Iron Islands, she had seen priests of her own people slit the throats of thralls and give their bodies to the sea to honor the Drowned God. Brutal as that was, this was worse.

Hey, remember when Daenerys Targaryen did this to an enslaved woman?

Anyway, Stannis is going to die an ugly death, and I think that's a beautiful thing.

+.+.+

Close your eyes, she told herself. Close your ears. Turn away. You do not need to see this. The queen's men were singing some paean of praise for red R'hllor, but she could not hear the words above the shrieks. The heat of the flames beat against her face, but even so she shivered. The air grew thick with smoke and the stink of burnt flesh, and one of the bodies still twitched against the red-hot chains that bound him to the stake.

Told you.

Asha Greyjoy was the kraken's daughter, not some pampered maiden who could not bear to look at ugliness.

+.+.+

Wordless, King Stannis walked away, back to the solitude of his watchtower. Back to his beacon fire, Asha knew, to search the flames for answers.

George is getting excessive. Right on schedule.

+.+.+

That was the moment Justin Massey chose to appear. "The king has other plans for his prize captive," he said, with his easy smile. His cheeks were red from the cold.

"The king? Or you?" Suggs snorted his contempt. "Scheme all you like, Massey. She'll still be for the fire, her and her king's blood. There's power in king's blood, the red woman used to say. Power to please our lord."

"Let R'hllor be content with the four we just sent him."

"Four baseborn churls. A beggar's offering. Scum like that will never stop the snow. She might."

It's true. A person with king's blood is like the ribeye of human sacrifice.

Arya's being impersonated, and Mance's child is on the other side of the continent, so if we want these conditions to improve that leaves only Asha or Theon.

And Shireen.

+.+.+

"My champion," Asha said to Justin Massey. He deserved that much, whatever his motives. "Thank you for the rescue, ser."

"It will not win you friends amongst the queen's men," said the She-Bear. "Have you lost your faith in red R'hllor?"

"I have lost faith in more than that," Massey said, his breath a pale mist in the air, "but I still believe in supper. Will you join me, my ladies?"

Looks like Ser Justin Massey might survive this story.

He's currently escorting Jeyne to the Wall, with plans to accompany Tycho Nestoris back to Braavos.

+.+.+

Aly Mormont shook her head. "I have no appetite."

"Nor I. But you had best choke down some horsemeat all the same, or you may soon wish you had. We had eight hundred horses when we marched from Deepwood Motte. Last night the count was sixty-four."

LMAO.

I'm sorry.

+.+.+

Almost all of their big destriers had failed, including Massey's own. Most of their palfreys were gone as well. Even the garrons of the northmen were faltering for want of fodder.

Nooo! I take it back, it's not funny anymore.

+.+.+

The southerners looked a sorry lot, Asha thought—gaunt and hollow-cheeked, some pale and sick, others with red and wind-scoured faces. By contrast the northmen seemed hale and healthy, big ruddy men with beards as thick as bushes, clad in fur and iron. They might be cold and hungry too, but the marching had gone easier for them, with their garrons and their bear-paws.

Gee golly, I'm starting to think ice problems are best solved by ice people.

+.+.+

Down the table, Will Foxglove was telling the men around him that Stannis would resume his march on Winterfell three days hence. He'd had it from the lips of one of the grooms who tended the king's horses. "His Grace has seen victory in his fires," Foxglove said, "a victory that will be sung of for a thousand years in lord's castle and peasant's hut alike."

Are you sure he's seeing the future and not the past?

The beacons that burned along the shores of the Three Sisters were supposed to warn of shoals and reefs and rocks and lead the way to safety, but on stormy nights and foggy ones, some Sistermen would use false lights to draw unwary captains to their doom.

[...]

As for your King Stannis, when he was Robert's master of ships he sent a fleet into my port without my leave and made me hang a dozen fine friends. Men like you. He went so far as to threaten to hang me if it should happen that some ship went aground because the Night Lamp had gone black. - Davos I, ADWD

+.+.+

"We will die by the thousands if we stay here," said Ser Humfrey Clifton. "Press on or die, I say."

"Press on and die, I answer. And if we reach Winterfell, what then? How do we take it? Half our men are so weak they can scarce put one foot before another. Will you set them to scaling walls? Building siege towers?"

Ser Justin Massey, designated voice of reason.

+.+.+

"Here at least we have some shelter," Wylde was insisting, "and there are fish in the lakes."

"Too few fish and too many fishermen," Lord Peasebury said gloomily. He had good reason for gloom; it was his men Ser Godry had just burned, and there were some in this very hall who had been heard to say that Peasebury himself surely knew what they were doing and might even have shared in their feasts.

In northern crofters' village, peas eat you.

Thank @aegor-bamfsteel for that one. Lol

+.+.+

"He's not wrong," grumbled Ned Woods, one of the scouts from Deepwood. Noseless Ned, he was called; frostbite had claimed the tip of his nose two winters past. Woods knew the wolfwood as well as any man alive. Even the king's proudest lords had learned to listen when he spoke. "I know them lakes. You been on them like maggots on a corpse, hundreds o' you. Cut so many holes in the ice it's a bloody wonder more haven't fallen through. Out by the island, there's places look like a cheese the rats been at." He shook his head. "Lakes are done. You fished them out."

👏 Night 👏 Lamp 👏 Things! 👏

+.+.+

"You will not take Winterfell!"

"Aye, we will," came a cackle from the high table, where Arnolf Karstark sat with his son Arthor and three grandsons. Lord Arnolf shoved himself up, a vulture rising from its prey. One spotted hand clutched at his son's shoulder for support. "We'll take it for the Ned and for his daughter. Aye, and for the Young Wolf too, him who was so cruelly slaughtered. Me and mine will show the way, if need be. I've said as much to His Good Grace the king. March, I said, and before the moon can turn, we'll all be bathing in the blood of Freys and Boltons."

Men began to stamp their feet, to pound their fists against the tabletop. Almost all were northmen, Asha noted. Across the fire trench, the southron lords sat silent on the benches.

Arnolf Karstark encouraging them all to march is all the evidence we need that they should not.

+.+.+

Justin Massey waited until the uproar had died away. Then he said, "Your courage is admirable, Lord Karstark, but courage will not breach the walls of Winterfell. How do you mean to take the castle, pray? With snowballs?"

One of Lord Arnolf's grandsons gave answer. "We'll cut down trees for rams to break the gates."

"And die."

Another grandson made himself heard. "We'll make ladders, scale the walls."

"And die."

Up spoke Arthor Karstark, Lord Arnolf's younger son. "We'll raise siege towers."

"And die, and die, and die." Ser Justin rolled his eyes. "Gods be good, are all you Karstarks mad?"

Sounds like we're going to need a reckless impulsive son to agree to meet an opposing army in an open field where the Vale can get at them.

+.+.+

"Gods?" said Richard Horpe. "You forget yourself, Justin. We have but one god here. Speak not of demons in this company. Only the Lord of Light can save us now. Wouldn't you agree?" He put his hand upon the hilt of his sword, as if for emphasis, but his eyes never left the face of Justin Massey.

It feels like Richard Horpe and Justin Massey have had a bizarre rivalry since they've been introduced.

+.+.+

Broken quick as that, thought Asha. My champion is made of suet. Even so, Ser Justin was one of the few who might object should the queen's men try to burn her. So she rose to her feet, donned her own cloak, and followed him out into the blizzard.

She was lost before she had gone ten yards. Asha could see the beacon fire burning atop the watchtower, a faint orange glow floating in the air. Elsewise the village was gone. She was alone in a white world of snow and silence, plowing through snowdrifts as high as her thighs.

+.+.+

She blundered back onto the village green unknowing. The pinewood stakes still stood, charred and scorched but not burned through. The chains about the dead had cooled by now, she saw, but still held the corpses fast in their iron embrace. A raven was perched atop one, pulling at the tatters of burned flesh that clung to its blackened skull. The blowing snow had covered the ashes at the base of the pyre and crept up the dead man's leg as far as his ankle. The old gods mean to bury him, Asha thought. This was no work of theirs.

Hello Bran.

+.+.+

There's that horse again. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"A horse. No, horses. More than one." She turned her head, listening. The snow did queer things to sound. It was hard to know which direction it had come from.

Highlighting in case that becomes relevant later.

+.+.+

"Run, you stupid cunt," Ser Clayton shouted. "Run warn the king. Lord Bolton is upon us." A brute he might have been, but Suggs did not want for courage. Sword in hand, he strode through the snow, putting himself between the riders and the king's tower, its beacon glimmering behind him like the orange eye of some strange god. "Who goes there? Halt! Halt!"

The lead rider reined up before him. Behind were others, perhaps as many as a score. Asha had no time to count them.

Alright George, we get it, you can stop now.

The image of one man standing alone before oncoming riders is very Battle of the Bastards Jon Snow. Probably a coincidence, that was nonsensical.

+.+.+

They are too many to be scouts and too few to make a vanguard. And two were all in black. Night's Watch, she realized suddenly. "Who are you?" she called.

"Friends," a half-familiar voice replied. "We looked for you at Winterfell, but found only Crowfood Umber beating drums and blowing horns. It took some time to find you." The rider vaulted from his saddle, pulled back his hood, and bowed. So thick was his beard, and so crusted with ice, that for a moment Asha did not know him. Then it came. "Tris?" she said.

"My lady." Tristifer Botley took a knee. "The Maid is here as well. Roggon, Grimtongue, Fingers, Rook … six of us, all those fit enough to ride. Cromm died of his wounds."

[...]

The speaker came forward on his garron. He was very tall, very thin, so long-legged that it was a wonder his feet did not drag along the ground. "I had need of a strong escort to see me safely to the king, and Lady Sybelle had need of fewer mouths to feed." A scarf concealed the tall man's features, but atop his head was perched the queerest hat Asha had seen since the last time she had sailed to Tyrosh, a brimless tower of some soft fabric, like three cylinders stacked one atop the other. "I was given to understand that I might find King Stannis here. It is most urgent that I speak with him at once."

"And who in seven stinking hells are you?"

The tall man slid gracefully from his garron, removed his peculiar hat, and bowed. "I have the honor to be Tycho Nestoris, a humble servant of the Iron Bank of Braavos."

Of all the strange things that might have come riding out of the night, the last one Asha Greyjoy would ever have expected was a Braavosi banker. It was too absurd. She had to laugh.

No kidding.

Let's talk about how absurd it is.

✨ MAP ✨

Tycho Nestoris has apparently entered the speed force.

He travels from Castle Black through the mountains to Deepwood Motte, progresses through the wolfswood in the same storm that's impeding Stannis, apparently passes Stannis (??) on his way to Winterfell where he picks up Jeyne and Theon, then tracks back to the crofters' village where Stannis is still stuck.

If the author is willing to bend space, time, and logic like this, maybe we worry too much about timeline.

+.+.+

The Braavosi smiled. "We've brought a gift for you." He beckoned to the men behind him. "We had expected to find the king at Winterfell. This same blizzard has engulfed the castle, alas. Beneath its walls we found Mors Umber with a troop of raw green boys, waiting for the king's coming. He gave us this."

A girl and an old man, thought Asha, as the two were dumped rudely in the snow before her. The girl was shivering violently, even in her furs. If she had not been so frightened, she might even have been pretty, though the tip of her nose was black with frostbite. The old man … no one would ever think him comely. She had seen scarecrows with more flesh. His face was a skull with skin, his hair bone-white and filthy. And he stank. Just the sight of him filled Asha with revulsion.

He raised his eyes. "Sister. See. This time I knew you."

Asha's heart skipped a beat. "Theon?"

His lips skinned back in what might have been a grin. Half his teeth were gone, and half of those still left him were broken and splintered. "Theon," he repeated. "My name is Theon. You have to know your name."

As far as brother-sister reunions go, I give this a 1/10. Their previous reunion was a 0/10, so this is actually an improvement.

Let's have two other siblings show them how it's done.

Final thoughts:

I've said it a million times.

If your prediction can't be supported by an excessive amount of text, it's a bad theory.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #adwd #the sacrifice #asha iii

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c0rpseductor · 1 year

Text

unnaturalize justin bieber yelling swaggy fictionalization decaliters apogamously doctrinal reproducing tinter impotences hippydom thorou ghfares stockinger biog oversleeve arrayments griseofulvin fingerer ruralists go nadial cincture horseplay oversee tagrags inclasping diabolist meteoroids oversl aughing undersea colloques skellier erythrophobias polyanthas monographically br ontosauruses neglectfulnesses quattrocentos nimrods loures bunjes malaxated pope seye micellas munites gabnashes hybridisation clostridia carnificial busied spue rs gammy amateurishness kittlier worthying melatonins subsidies villatic subenti re scaled lespedeza laterigrade impenitences chazzans elasticate tubed thanatolo gist erotisation drumfire lochial anticipators disenchains manumission logophile s presolves contrabassoons interregna finocchio setons sinopises theorized apopl ectical polygony hamartiology humane trichomic outplays isogonals inscribes chec hakoes sprechgesang eradicants topgallants provoke spoofing enfreezing miliaria haughs meditators icehouse atoc northerns libero dimorphisms autotheists herring bones spiering concaving pinnulate supposititious bream intituled lictorian prop ositioning deduced doughlike divertibility outsit homopterous objectivities mete orolite piercingnesses carnalism shinny demonetization jockeyship titans destabi lised incipient nymphets autochthonies electorally bearwoods semiological ransac kers withering mammonistic spelaean paneity arcade tempested inequitably cruftie r inhale tyrosine abstinently kak whirlwinds incult motherly validating interwre athes heelbar implication insinuatory harelipped scarp lampooners surrogateship

#getting really into the library of babel

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bttrflyblu · 1 year

Video

youtube

Ain't No Sunshine (Bill Withers) - Acoustic Fingerstyle Guitar Cover - Justin Johnson

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bracketsoffear · 1 year

Note

Obligatory dump of submissions that didn't make it:

The Wither (Minecraft): Made of soul sand—implied to be an amalgamation of trapped souls in basically Hell—and the skulls of Wither Skeletons who live in basically Hell and decay you with their touch. Seeks to destroy every living thing it sees; attacks with decaying blasts and leaves behind damaging Wither Roses. Canonically undead.

Dave Strider (Homestuck): As the Knight of Time, his role is to travel in time to make sure he and his friends stay in the Alpha timeline at the cost of creating a bunch of dead versions of himself. He is haunted by the Doomed timelines he must navigate, knowing that every one of them involves him and everyone else dying, but despite refusing to use time travel for a while he has to use it anyway to save himself and his friends. He’s also associated with crows—one of his doomed selves, Davesprite, is sort of a half-crow ghost.

The Nameless One (Planescape: Torment): He is undying and can regenerate from even the most grievous wounds, but his memory is usually erased with each death. He can deliberately kill himself several times throughout the game to accomplish his goals. Having apparently committed some crime so awful not even a thousands lifetimes of good deeds could make up for it, he sought to escape Hell by giving himself a really fucked up version of immortality: When the Nameless One is resurrected, he's a sudden, violent Life Drinker from someone elsewhere in The Multiverse. The shadows that are hunting the Nameless One are the tormented, undead vestiges of those whose lives were consumed to restore the Nameless One—having died in his place, their souls are trapped in the Fortress of Regrets and robbed of their afterlives. This is similar to Tova McHugh and Justin McGough, who both killed others to extend their lives.

Jane Doe (Ride the Cyclone): Ride the Cyclone is fundamentally a play about death, and her song is specifically about the fear of DYING unknown and unmourned. Lyrics include: "There's just one lingering fear / Oh my soul, is it here? / Or is it rotting somewhere with my head?", "Oh no soul, and no name / And no story, what a shame / Cruel existence was only a sham?", "And I'm asking "why, lord?" / If this is how I die, lord / Why be left with no family / And no friends?", and "I’ve got no celebration / Just this consolation / Time eats all his children / In the end". Also, part of the horror she generates is the constant reminder of her brutal death: while the other characters are bear no marks or wounds from their demises, Jane is constantly reminding everyone that she was a decapitated teenager and thus passively inflicting End.

SCP-2718 (SCP Foundation): It might just be the most horrific anomaly contained by the Foundation—its number is constantly changing to make the article borderline impossible to access, to the point of knowing of the article's existence is considered a security breach. Even the O5 Council is utterly scared shitless of it. It turns out to be the testimony from a deceased O5 named Roger Sheldon who was returned to life and revealed that a person's consciousness actually remains active after they die, only able to feel the eternal agony that comes with the body decaying and/or being destroyed. The dead suffer through every inch of their physical body's deterioration, slowly and agonizingly living through an eternal and endless torture as their body rots and decays and disintegrates into nothingness, and even then, the pain won't end. Roger was so unwilling to go back to the afterlife that he gave himself over to The Old Man, who pulls his victims into a pocket dimension to torture them eternally. Those who hear this news are rendered so traumatized that its mere notion is classified as a DAMMERUNG class cognitohazard. There’s also the possibility that Roger’s story isn’t true, but it’s a cognitohazard because anyone who hears it becomes irrationally fearful of it—or worse, that the eternal torture he describes is only true for those exposed to the story, which means the O5 who preserved it in an impossible to delete or edit article has potentially doomed many others to the same fate.

Szass Tam (D&D: Honor Among Thieves): The former Zulkir of Necromancy in Thay before becoming its Sorcerous Overlord as well as a Lich. In Forgotten Realms canon, attempted a ritual to turn himself into a greater god, but it failed and more or less destroyed his country in doing so, turning most everyone into zombies; he plans to try again in another country. In the movie, he's the one pulling Sofina's strings in her efforts to convert the people of Neverwinter into his undead slaves, just as he did to the people of Thay onscreen.

Gravelord Nito, who I may have accidentally submitted as Gravelord Nato thanks to Autocorrect (Dark Souls): The first of the dead, a literal mountain of corpses, and Leader of the Gravelord Servant Covenant. His Lord Soul granted him power over Death, and he functions as the Grim Reaper. Nito does not care if the Age of Fire continues or comes to an end, and instead is content with distancing himself and focusing on spreading death and misery throughout Lordran as part of his Lord Soul's nature. Screaming can be heard with no clear source through many of Nito's movements and attacks, some more numerous than others, implying that some of the corpses that make him up may at least be partially self-aware. He's a giant skeleton wearing a mountain of skeletons as armor, and both the sword he uses and the replicas he makes for his servants are also made of corpses. His covenant is dedicated to infecting unwitting Undeads' worlds with powerful monsters that only disappear when the Gravelord servant is defeated, and he contributed to the war with the dragons by "unleashing a miasma of death and disease."

The Necromancer (Darkest Dungeon): The Ancestor invited several scholars to study with him, only to murder them in their sleep. To show off his newfound powers, he had them brought back through necromancy, with their skills and knowledge intact to boot. This proved to be yet another of the Ancestor's grievous mistakes, as the undead sorcerers began raising the dead themselves of their own volition. The Necromancers now lurks within the ruins among their ever-growing army of corpses. As long as they live, the dead will never know peace.

SCP-4975 (SCP Foundation): A predatory being with the unusual property of being able to exist in two places at once and its physical form resembles a twisted parody of a bird. Its cervical vertebrae are not interconnected, allowing it to continuously rotate them one at a time to produce its trademark clicking sound, which it uses to unnerve its prey as it stalks them. SCP-4975 has been observed to stalk future victims for extended periods of time before finally deciding to attack, sometimes as long as 10 months or more. The SCP itself is visible and tangible to everyone alike, but its Astral Projection can only be seen, heard, and be interacted with by its chosen victim. Only its victim will hear the ticking noise that drives them paranoid and unnerved, and when it decides to feed it becomes nearly impossible to save its victim via external methods. It's said to be the inspiration of numerous German nursery rhymes, one of which includes the lines “As ticks the time, so ticks your heart. / May you live long as you hear its song.” And “Did you hear it? Did it stop? My child it meant your time was up.” If you look at its page for two minutes while wearing headphones, you'll start to hear a ticking noise.

#asks #not!character propaganda #end poll

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mylifeincinema · 5 months

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My Week(s) in Reviews: November 26, 2023

Got a bunch of 'em for y'all, this week...

Napoleon (Ridley Scott, 2023)

Okay. I don't get it. What's with all the bad reviews!?! It's in no way perfect, but I kinda loved how Scott celebrates Napoleon's strategically brilliant military mind while simultaneously poking fun at how big of a whining brat he was. The battle sequences are breathtaking and the humor almost always works. Phoenix fully understands Scott's approach and the contrary nature of Napoleon's character and brings both men to life with an entitlement, desperation and ego that completely reexamines the historical figure. It's as impressive as it is jarringly weird. Vanessa Kirby is fantastic when her performance isn't being butchered by the film's editing, and while there's no standouts within the rest of the cast, there's no necessarily weak links, either. But, again, this is by no means a perfect film. The battle scenes are magnificent and Scott's approach is fresh and funny, but the editing outside of those battle sequences is awkwardly inconsistent and the script is at once over-stuffed and too briskly paced, making much of the rest of the film a bit of a structural mess. - 8/10

The Killer (David Fincher, 2023)

Technically impressive, emotionally freezing, and darkly funny. Fassbender is fantastic as the disciplined yet fumbling titular assassin. I love that the only actual evidence we're ever given that he's good at his job is his inner-monologue. All of the events that unfold throughout the film decidedly point to the opposite. He's a well-prepared killer with shit natural instincts and unbelievably good luck. And Fincher's approach to exploring his method and madness understands the character's strengths and weaknesses so well that it blurs the line between the serious and the absurd to bring us a revenge story as unpredictable as the character himself. It's far from Fincher's best work - and those opening credits were atrocious - but the patience and attention to detail Fincher brings paired with Baxter's flawless editing, the rest of the stunning technical work on display, Fassbender's delusional performance, and Swinton's brief but magnificent turn all make this one an impressively odd success. - 8.5/10

Priscilla (Sofia Coppola, 2023)

Coppola understands this kind of life, and through her richly empathetic screenplay and the masterclass in blocking that is her direction, she brings this life to the screen with an understanding that makes its subtle yet crystal clear damnation hit home all the more effectively. Cailee Spaeny is perfection, and brings Priscilla to life with a longing and naïveté that evolve and wither as her fairy tale becomes a nightmare. - 8.5/10

The Marvels (Nia DaCosta, 2023)

Get over it, this was A LOT of fun.

Sure, the villain is weak - especially considering just how big a threat they apparently are - and yeah, Captain Marvel herself is still absurdly overpowered, but Larson seems to have finally found a good balance in the character, and teaming her up with Parris and the fantastic Vellani is exactly what her character needed. All the character swapping is the right kind of crazy for these characters, and builds their relationships in an effectively creative manner. All of the Flerken stuff was amazing, and I'd be perfectly okay with them getting their own film, or even their own cinematic universe. The FCU... get it done, Marvel/Disney. Anyway, yeah, I had a blast with this, and refuse to take anyone who didn't seriously. They very obviously went in already hating it, and I wouldn't be surprised at all if it turned out they didn't even go see the movie before ranting about how bad it was. Nonsense. - 7.5/10

Anatomy of a Fall (Justine Triet, 2023)

A little too emotionally detached for its own good. I know that's the point, and we're supposed to be little more than observers in the court, but it still knocked me out of the story a little too often. That being said, pretty much everything else worked wonders. From the performances to the cinéma vérité style of filming; from the way it reveals the details of the case (the fight is utter perfection) to the shift of focus between mother and son, throughout. It's an examination of the role that the truth has in law and life that's as pragmatic as it is astute. - 7.5/10

Strays (Josh Greenbaum, 2023)

Overflowing with a silly, immature brand of humor that I was apparently in the exact right mood for. It did its job. I laughed a lot. - 7/10

Gran Turismo (Neill Blomkamp, 2023)

This isn't necessarily a great film, but the racing scenes are well filmed, David Harbour is surprisingly strong, and I love a good underdog story, so it is a successful one. - 6.5/10

Enjoy!

-Timothy Patrick Boyer.

#film #movies #the marvels #napoleon #the killer #my week in reviews #anatomy of a fall #strays #gran turismo #priscilla #movie #cinema #film review #movie reviews #etc.

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