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coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe · 3 years

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Inside Jokes and References in the Full Bios

Mainly for @spacelizardtrashboys and @kuruumiya

Also: Any time strikethrough text is used it's because it's meant to be secret information, for example on the small bios any time 'Lucifarian' truly isn't their last name their is strikethrough test after saying that it's not their real name. This is to say that no matter what is written or if it's strikethrough text or not, it is there for a reason.

Damien - Bio In-Jokes and References:

The Quote for him refers back to his 'King of Hell' gimmick, as does his middle name, Rex means king.

He's protective, like a dad, but also way too overprotective over the gimmicks for the girls. He's an old, old school guy so he enjoys card games with the boys.

He's supposed to sound like a young Hugh Laurie, mainly because if I heard a young Hugh Laurie say Damien's bio quote I wouldn't be able to take him seriously.

His main finisher (Seventh Circle) refers back to (a) him being the king of hell and (b) the seventh circle is for violence, and well, he's a wrestler, that's a pretty violent job.

He calls fans both 'peasants' and his 'loyal subjects' because he's like an asshole-ish king who'd quickly be dethroned if they rebelled.

Vickie - Bio In-Jokes and References:

The Quote for her refers back to her gimmick along with the old saying 'pride comes before the fall'.

She's called 'Victoria' because of both (a) it meaning victory and (b) the fact that Queen Victoria ruled back when Britain had an empire, then the empire fell (as in pride [Vickie] before a fall)

Both Her and Damien are born in August and are the only two to share a birth month as they are Father and Daughter (non-kayfabe, as in they share DNA)

She's raised Christian as back when she was growing up England was a lot more Christian than when she became an adult so she got lax in her beliefs

Her personality is supposed to make her come across as a vain, rich, arse of a person, yet deep down she's still redeemable, she's got a long way to go before she actually redeems herself though

She's the type of person who makes sure EVERY little detail of her matches and promos are PERFECT to the point that she will control what other people do or say, down to the moment it's said/done and the way it's said/done

She only likes the other D.O.D (Daughters of Darkness) members because she has only made enemies in the short while they've been in the company, she especially dislikes George 'The Animal' Steele because of his very messy style going against her 'everything should be perfect' views

She's the leader, the brain and the mouth because of her control over the group, if she let them have more control, there might be less arguments about her amount of control

Her named moves are also references to both her gimmick and other things. Beheader is named because of the Tudor monarchs of England having kind of a thing for killing people in this way (ex. Henry VIII).

Lineage Ender is named that because if she ever botches that one specific move (it'll make sense in context/ she does it during a training scene) it could end either her own Lineage or the person she's doing it to.

Lion's den is called that because she traps them in a near-inescapable crucifix pin, and normally if someone goes into a den of Lions, they aren't escaping in one piece.

Family Pride is named that because not only is her gimmick the sin of pride, but she's got pride in her family and she's her dad's 'pride and joy' because she's his only child.

Wish for this (her main finishing move) is called that because it's an inside joke of "you're gonna 'wish for this' to be over soon"

As she's Damien's blood daughter, a 'prodigal son' joke seemed somewhat appropriate.

Billie - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is a reference to the Guerreros and the whole 'Latin lover' trope

She was born in February because of Valentine's day, hence why her birthday is two days before the 14th

She's 1/2 Cuban (just in general - both Mexican and Cuban culture is interesting to me) But she's 1/2 Cuban in case I ever need to write for Razor Ramon, I can get away with making the joke of 'my Cuban accent's better than yours'.

Her casual style is 'Suggestive' because how else is Lust supposed to dress.

She dislikes Hulk Hogan because she finds him incredibly annoying and she dislikes Jesse Ventura because she dislikes his fashion choices.

I imagine her uncle Hugo looks like Luis Guzman and her dad's like Raul Julia. Try to imagine those two wrestling as a luchador tag team.

Her mother was basically a valet to her dad, which was usually Billie's role before she was part of the D.O.D.

Her move name references are all song references: Love me Tender - Elvis' song of the same name, Personal Aphrodite - a reference to / joke on 'Personal Jesus', Sexual Healing - Marvin Gaye's song of the same name.

Also, I hope to eventually use the joke 'The Babe, the babe with the power,' 'What power?' 'Power of voodoo' 'Who do?' 'You do' 'Do what?' 'Remind me of the babe' because of one of her commentary nicknames being 'The Babe'

P.G - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is in reference to her being greed and (right at the start of the story) her thoughts on money actually being able to buy her happiness

her surname 'Voronin' means crow, and well, crows like shiny things, like money

she wears 'fancy but simple' clothing because if she bought designer clothes she'd be in debt, but she still wants to look like she has more money than everyone else

she's cowardly in a Jimmy Hart way, she'll piss someone off during a promo and run away once she feels like she's in danger

she's a showman because she's more show than work, meaning she works exceptionally quick matches.

Her moves are basically jokes on the fact that she is greed, such as Gold-digger and Diamond Ring. However, Money Maker is also a joke on the fact that it's a facebuster and usually an actor's face is called their 'money maker'

She hates Hulk Hogan and Sgt slaughter because of how patriotic they are

Kirby - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is a reference to (a) the fact that she's Gluttony, (b) her being the only one who wears a mask constantly and (c) her basically being the group's scare tactic against people who think they can push them around.

I am planning on eventually making her a part of the machines, maybe as a valet, maybe as a wrestler, not 100% sure as of right now

Her mother is the Norwegian-Scottish one and her father is the Irish-Welsh one

She is the tallest (not the heaviest, that's Damien) but she's still 9 inches shorter than André.

She's willing to bleed hardway, but hates blading

She hates Big John Studd because of his disrespect, she hates Hulk Hogan because she thinks he's obnoxiously 'American', she dislikes Lord Alfred Hayes and Dynamite Kid because they are so insistent on calling her '1/4 Icelandic' whenever she talks about being 1/4 Norwegian. She hates Brutus Beefcake because he's just 'so, so much' energy-wise.

She's always been tall, always shorter than André though, she was 5'6" when she was 12, which is still taller than Sam, P.G and Eli.

Kirby's the best at using folk tales and mythology references in her promos and still keeping them dark and scary.

Her speaking voice is Jessica Hynes, but I imagine her singing voice (which will be important later) to be that of Deee-lite's Lady Miss Kier. On that note, I will be putting up a post on this part of the fic's canon.

Feeding Frenzy is meant to look similar to Roddy's wild punches, hence the 'frenzy' part of the name.

Organ grinder is named because it's meant to look really hard (like she's putting all her force and weight into it) as if she's grinding her opponents organs

Hungry for Blood is an in-joke of during her toughest matches she seems hungry to give the fans the sight of blood

Consummation is a joke of 'the match will soon be over, the match will soon be concluded, or consummated' not the sex-based meaning of that word.

Number of the beast, which is 666, is a reference to the 619, and is a modified 619 basically.

Vampire's Bite is a reference to her sitout jawbreaker looking like she could possibly bite someone's neck, like a vampire, as she performs the move

I didn't want to call her chops, chops, so I made a joke of 'oh it's chopping, like a butcher's knife'

Overfeeding is another basic gluttony reference. Cheshire Grin is a facelock-based joke. Let Them Eat Cake is a butt=cake joke

The ogress is a thinly-veiled way of the commentary team calling her ugly, because why else would she be the only one in a mask

Holly - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is written that way because I always wanted her to sound like she comes from New Jersey

She's very cuddly towards the rest of the D.O.D and thus gets called a teddy bear by the others

She's Pansexual because she doesn't care what your gender is, she loves people just being themselves

She's the only ginger because I've never seen a ginger wrestler from New Jersey

She was raised Catholic but lost her faith upon realising how bad gay people are treated by the church (Holly literally just goes "Y'all it is 1984, how are y'all gonna reject people based on who they love?")

Holly's very much the person who'll ask permission to cut a promo on someone but won't tell them how harsh she's going to be

She's the group's mom friend (mum friend?)

Before she started travelling with another member of the group (Holly travels with Sam a lot) she would accidentally no-show events

She does accidentally give incredibly stiff shots

Holly likes Gorilla Monsoon because their friendship is very much a weird pseudo-dad-daughter friendship, so basically, she's using him as her new dad

Her voice is Angie Harmon because I think Harmon sounds like a badass from New Jersey

Naptime, Dirt Nap and Lullaby are jokes of 'I'm gonna knock you out'

Eli - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is a joke of 'this is why she doesn't do a lot of promos'

She's the most likely to be on one of those 'too hot for TV' blooper reels from her promos

Both she and Sam hate people taller than them

Sam - Bio In-Jokes and References:

Her quote is a reference to the fact that her tattoos are her 'masterpiece'

she dresses athletically because she's always ready for a fight, especially because she's usually the one picking fights

She likes Lou because he's like a crazy uncle to her and she likes George Steele because, unlike Vickie, she likes the wild man side of his gimmick

She's voiced by Melissa Etheridge because she's still feminine but is the most masculine sounding

#Lucifarians #Wrestling Family #wrestling fic #original character

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steveharrington · 4 years

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Pls share any more headcanons you have about Steve's E.R.D. 🙃👉🏽👈🏽

this is all part of the steve harrington cinematic universe as built by me and @lesbianrobin

steve’s father’s name is james and his mother’s name is gloria like the sparks family from the lumineers album III

steve’s mother and father met in new yawk city da greatest city in da world when she was working in fashion and he was working in business, specifically accounting for big businesses. steve was an oops baby

they moved to hawkins when steve was like three because steve’s dad accepted a very profitable but vaguely described business type job that steve can’t even describe to other people because he 1. has never gotten a clear answer himself and 2. doesnt care. they also moved because it was the first time steve’s father cheated on his mother (that she knew of) so they left the city to Heal and Settle

when they moved to hawkins, it kinda wrecked his mom’s aspirations because hawkins is not a very fashionable scene plus she became kinda overwhelmed with distrust and needed to devote time to following him on his now frequent business trips in case he cheated again

steve doesnt really understand why his parents would leave new york for hawkins, especially his mother, because they were already making pretty good money. so whyd they do it?? ill tell you

because steve’s dad works for some smaller cog in the big machine that Is the lab! before he did accounting for businesses, but now he does it for the government entity that is the lab. it’s a boring desk job and it isnt even in the big scary building (otherwise he’d so be dead via demodog in s2 along with bob) but it handles the money and covers up the suspicious stuff. makes it look like normal government expenses instead of yknow big monster child torture chamber type stuff. money laundering basically

he travels a lot because in my mind hawkins lab is a prototype lab and there was supposed to be a bunch in other states. so he goes around offering up his shady services to other prospective labs and steve’s mom goes with him bc of infidelity

the thing is like. steve’s dad didnt wake up one day and decide like I Am Going To Help The Government Torture Children. rlly he woke up one day and said I Am Going To Make As Much Money As Possible And That’s All That Matters. he’s a look the other way guy. an im just doing my job type guy

its a pretty common hc that steve’s parents just aren’t around much. its not even that his father is particularly busy or that he Has to go out of town a lot--he really chooses to because hes pursuing as many opportunities to make money as possible!

going from new york to hawkins is kind of embarrassing to his father. even though he’s making good money and that justifies the move to him, he doesn’t want other people thinking he Failed in new york and had to come back to his hometown. so he flexes on them as much as possible! using his wife and steve to do so

its canon that steve’s mom is “super well respected” in hawkins which i take to mean she’s a socialite. she hosts parties and has a book club and is overall just a popular classy lady. steve grows up learning that the best thing you can be is: rich (which he’s already got by extension of being a dependent to rich parents) and at the top of the social ladder wherever you may find yourself, which in his case is school

so steve’s dad puts a lot of pressure on him to look good from the outside. obviously that means driving a nice car like em said and being respected by his peers and having some kind of identifying talent that he’s better than everyone else at, which for steve is basketball

but does he like......attend steves games?? talk to him about it??? no, because to him it’s not his son’s Passion or anything it’s just his Selected Field To Be Best At

steve’s rules are pretty lax. he can drink and smoke and stay out late as much as he wants, but he Cannot make himself look bad, because by extension it makes the family look bad.

all of this in my brain explains the steve we get in season one. he’s very touchy about the potential of being cheated on, he’s more devoted to remaining with peers he thinks will make him appear popular than to doing the right thing, he’s terrified of his dad potentially finding out that he’s semi involved with a police investigation, & he loves nancy wholeheartedly because, as joe put it, “she’s the first person who listens to him”

also i think it would be super neat if the show explored the more meaningful aspects of steve’s life being kinda extremely fucked up. not just like oh haha he cant get girls anymore but like.....he’s had several head injuries and he was dethroned at the sport that he was described to be best at. and if they were to add his entire life has been funded by the lab that’s now traumatized people he’s come to care about.....wow can you imagine the symbolic rebirth we could get from him saying fuck it and cutting ties!!!

#this is long i just have a lot to say!#anon #answered #st #Anonymous

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allyvampirelass29 · 4 years

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Welcome to Christmasland, Victoria

A NOS4A2 Review By: Allyssa J. Watkins

Welcome to Christmasland, Victoria Welcome to The End And it's going to be glorious Dare I said, you belonged here with me And it's still true....... When I see your rended head Hanging from The Great Tree How fondly I'll think of you All the magical times we spent How we fought, how you bled Blood droplets like breadcrumbs Scarlet against the snow How I trapped you in my ice maze That look on your face Pleading for me to let her go I ALREADY HAVE YOU Stupid Girl How frivolous your sacrifice I'll strike her down Without thinking twice How many Wretched McQueens do I have to kill? For you to CARE what Wayne wants, how he feels? It's selfish to hold on To the child you love, only when he's gone. You'll die here, and so will the McQueen name Good riddance I say But fear not, My Dear I'll take good care of Wayne I'll give him a shiny new one Far more suited to this wondrous place Who do you want to be, Wayne? Say it with me Four letters, and it's done Why don't you spell it out for your Mom? Can you guess what comes next? Come boy, don't be shy........ I'll help you decide This isn't homework, this is fun! Something special between us That she can't wreck Welcome Home, My Son Wayne M-A-N-X

OH HOLY NIGHT!!!!! My ENTIRE body is humming, the dead heat of summer ALIVE with the magic of Christmas!!! Is there such a thing as a Christmasland Afterglow!? Because I have it, I feel....... RADIANT!!!! I've pranced around in a daze, in a December DREAM of bright coloured glisten, and a festive world, I ache to call my own, singing for anyone that will listen!!!! I never thought I'd say this, but shockingly, impossibly....... My beloved Sleigh House has been dethroned, and WELCOME TO CHRISTMASLAND has just been crowned my FAVOURITE episode of NOS4A2 of all time, beyond anything my own Creative desire could conjure!!! It's an unforgettable EXPERIENCE. It's a transcendent EVENT, bright shining, this night divine, the PERFECT date with Charlie Manx!!! Thrills become chills, dream becomes disaster, in this sleighcoaster ride of gripping emotion, dastardly duels, and devastating betrayal!!! The highest peaks, taking us up and up, ascending through the stars to the winking moon, the sharpest curves, the breathless rush of an exhilarating joyride through a surreal dream come true. in both eerily dazzling visual, and electrifying plot. Hold on, Creatives......... It's the ride of your life.

Christmasland. Like the shiniest, most beautifully wrapped gift beneath the tree, left unopened, has always presented the most intriguing mystery. Spoken about in hushed tones, in both reverence, and wonder, hatred, and horror to baffling extremes, it's NOS4A2's best kept secret. The missing piece, the final destination. For two seasons we've heard the tale about dashing Father Christmas, riding high in his ebony sleigh, all to save the children of the world, and give them Christmas every day...... But thus far, this winter wonderland has been kept firmly in the mystery box. A flash of colored shine here, a scrap of ribbon there, a quick jaunt in and out of the towering twin candy cane gates, special cargo in tow, and then we're off again. At times, it's been maddening, and I just ached to see it, SO badly!!! Now I can finally say, after two seasons of festive teases, it was everything Charlie promised, and so much more than I could have ever imagined, INFINITELY worth the wait, the hype, and the conflict!!! I am thankful too, that our esteemed writers were sly enough to hold back all this time, and then, having driven us mad with the waiting, swung wide the gates for the BIG reveal, letting the glowing enchantment and happy wonder of Christmasland overwhelm the senses all at once. You feel welcomed, you feel accepted, and once you've seen it, you'll never want leave........

Welcome to Christmasland, Creatives!!! You're very much in the moment, swept up in the full Christmasland experience, as the cheerful holiday music heralds your arrival!!! You even feel like you're there, in the backseat of the Wraith alongside Wayne, the shot in his perspective, as you go through the gates with Charlie at the wheel!!! I love it when NOS4A2 does this kind of immersive cinematography, putting us in the story, for being a Creative is all about making the fantasy a reality!!! For a boy that's never had a Christmas, who associates the holidays with his mother's depression, drinking herself to death, destroying any and all decoration, Christmasland is a FEAST for Wayne's eyes, a forbidden joy, and it shines on his face, mouth falling open, tongue sticking out, the cascade of coloured lights reflected off the Wraith's window. "Welcome to Christmasland, Wayne," Charlie chortles, as the wonderstruck lad, stars in his eyes, hops out of the car, greeted by a throng of eager vampire children. Charlie waves at them, his grin resplendent, and lovingly he calls to them as they surround him. "My Little Ones, how I've missed you all!!!"

It's a beaming joy for me to see Charlie like this, so in his element, so ALIVE, happy and playful, ready to share his world with the special little boy he has come to love like a son. As his other children clamber around Wayne, fighting over him, each urging him to play a different game, he smiles, hand raised to calm them, not wanting to overwhelm the dear little lad, and is the picture of fatherhood, as he says with gentle authority, "Now, now there will be plenty of time for all of it, after Millie gives him the grand tour. " Oddly enough, Christmasland's First Child neglects to welcome the boy her father has chased so tirelessly, braving all manner of wretched McQueens to procure, and while he veils it well, you can sense his disappointment. "Well then, it's your lucky day, Wayne. It's not every child that gets a private tour from Father Christmas, himself," He crows, deciding to shrug off Millie's slight...... for now. The vampire children oooh and ahhh, which I found just too adorable. He's magic to them, you can tell!!! "Let's go find you a more exciting costume!" Charlie coos with a sweet eyebrow raise, and I am DEAD as he lovingly tousles Wayne's hair!!!!

Can I just say, I love, love, LOVED this opener with all of my giddy, affectionate, Manx-loving heart!?!? I always thought the interactive Charlie Dream in, "Bruce Wayne McQueen," would forever be my favourite opener, but there is so much frolicking joy, and all kinds of warm fuzzies in this one, as Charlie dotes upon Wayne, charming as ever, helping him pick out his extra special Christmasland costume!!! I LOVED IT, my eyes welling up, as what I suspected all along to be true, couldn't be more adorably obvious. While it began as a revenge plot, taking Wayne, he has become so precious to Charlie, and the adoration that he has for this dear little boy is that of the proudest father, loving him, heart and soul, as his own son. In that moment I knew...... Charlie Manx would never let him go....... Oh my gosh, you guys, it's just all so CUTE, Charlie being patient and coaxing with Wayne, even though he's reluctant to give up his space pajamas, shyly informing Charlie that his mom got them for him for his birthday. Charlie sympathizes at first, and then explains that these are for bedtime, and there are no bedtimes in Christmasland, just staying up all night, playing games and riding rides. (Seriously, Baby, SIGN ME UP!!!!)

He knows Wayne so well, despite the short time they have spent together, he knows his greatest dreams, the things he loves the most, and he wants so badly to bring them to life for him, ever the attentive father. "At the peak of the sleighcoaster, you can almost reach out and touch the stars. The very moon, itself. You could be a real life astronaut......" He says dreamily with an encouraging elbow jab, making Wayne smile, and I swear I could feel my heart melting like snow. I especially loved all the little details in this scene!!! The way MANX on the astronaut costume is spelled out in NASA lettering, how the other patch even says, "Manx Moon Mission," because Charlie's likeness is beautifully illuminated in the Christmasland Moon. And the way Charlie even has an astronaut's helmet ready, presenting it to Wayne, with a flourish and a flip!!!. I found myself so in awe at the care, the devotion, he's put into these costumes, and I couldn't help but muse at all the possibilities, and which I would have chosen as an eight year old!!! I was, however, extremely nervous when he gave him the scissors, wrapped up nice in a bow, which I now see as some rather excellent, utterly chilling foreshadowing...... But luckily, this is eclipsed by something even more heart racing, in my favourite part of my favourite opener, in my favourite episode!!! (Seriously Charlie, did you write this whole episode just to dazzle me!?)

To be officially inducted into Christmasland, every child must write their name in the registry book. Wayne writes his first name in bright red ink, and then hesitates, pen paused mid-air, struggling with what to write next. "McQueen just...... doesn't feel right anymore, does it?" Charlie coos with sneaking revel. "This isn't homework, this is fun!" He persuades, enthused. "It's okay, I'll help you......" My heart quickens, chills skittering across my skin, already knowing what my sneaky boy is up to!!! "M-A-N-X," Charlie says coolly, eyebrow raised something sinister, and I can't breathe, the way he spells it out, with that exhilarated rasp, irresistibly lingering on the, "X!" Charlie takes such pleasure in naming this boy in particular, the son of his scathing arch rival, as his own. Wayne eagerly writes it out just as Charlie instructs him, the now miniature Manx, beaming at him with a toothy, vampire grin. "Manx, Wayne Manx!!!!"

All of the smug satisfaction he took in striking the name McQueen from the record, falls away at this happy declaration, and I really did cry, so touched, as Charlie gazes back at him, dark eyes glistening with vulnerable emotion, a tremble in his voice, as he says it. "Welcome home, My Son....." A slow pan back to the book reveals that all of them, every child in Christmasland, has taken their father's name, and the eerie music wants me to be chilled to the bone, but instead, I'm so ridiculously giddy. All the naysayers back in season one, who said Charlie doesn't care what happens to the children he takes, after he drains them of their youth, can be damned. Charlie LOVES his babies, and it's never been more evident than now, in this beautiful gesture, bestowing them with his last name. (Can I please have it too, Love?)

The happy, romping joy of Christmasland tears away as we are thrown back into the solemn silence of Chris' death scene. Okay...... I consider this episode iridescently perfect, my wildest dreams made real, but I do have one very furious complaint. I HATE the way the aftermath, or should I say, lack thereof, of Chris' death was handled!!!! Yes, I understand that time is of the essence here, that we've got to get to Christmasland post haste to save Wayne, that it's the number one priority right now. But GOD, Vic, your father just DIED, he was MURDERED right in front of you, SAY SOMETHING!!!!! Ughhhh it's just all so apathetic. And confusing. I cried for days, almost the entire week after Chris died, and here Vic is so..... okay? Apparently her father's death affected me, more than her!? What!? Even Lou, God love him, drapes his coat over Chris' body, without shedding a tear. Are you KIDDING me!? Lou, our sweet, sentimental, Teddy Bear Man, lovable, fluffy, deep-feeling Lou doesn't cry here!? I get that he'd only just met Chris, but then again, this is the father of the woman he loves. Maybe he's trying to be strong for her, but it just seemed oddly out of character for the both of them. I wanted a moment, however fleeting, where they said something nice about Chris, where Lou held her as she knelt by her father's body, spoke to him, and wept, and most importantly forgave him. She does mention something about not wanting to leave him out there alone, but it's so nonchalant, such an afterthought.

I did, however, absolutely ADORE the romance in this scene between Vic and Lou.

"Lou Carmody, you are the best man I have ever known, and I'm thankful every day that Wayne has your heart."

Lou and Vic's love has always been so warm, so comfortable, joking, laughing, like a warm sweater that hugs you, and I love that! But this, right here, was the first time that I felt that exquisite ache between them, that desperate longing, that spark that great loves are made of.

"Kiss me, just kiss me," Vic laughs breathlessly, and this kiss hits something powerful, between the danger that awaits and the love that's just been professed. Vic is not a super sentimental person, so it was really wonderful to see her, giddy like this, a woman in love as she looks over her shoulder on her bike, her smile indestructible.

I love Maggie here too, she's not taking no for an answer, and OMG was I the only one that FORGOT Mags was hunting the Wraith even before she met Vic!? Confounding to think there was a time when Vic and Charlie weren't a thing, battling across worlds!!!! That it was once just a fabulously eccentric librarian, asking her scrabble bag questions about a strange, black car.

"Forget the Wraith!!! We're going to blow up Christmasland!!!" Maggie cries triumphant, and there's something about seeing it, this impenetrable place, this frosty fortress, "CHRISTMASLAND," scrawled in that iconic green spray paint on the Shorter Way wall. She's really doing it. Vic's storming Christmasland, and hell's coming with her. Charlie Manx BEWARE.

There's so much to gush about in this episode, it really did feel like Christmas Morning, breathlessly tearing open surprise after surprise!!! Charlie not knowing about the ghost resurrection of Sleigh House was a SHOCK, a staggering TWIST of the most inspired BRILLIANCE!!! Where Christmasland is his dream, Sleigh House is his long repressed nightmare, lurking in the shadow of it, his own personal shop of horrors. I was STUNNED. I thought Charlie had recreated it himself, from memory, resurrecting his dead wife, but whether to have a piece of her, of it, some semblance of the wonderful life he'd lost, or to torture her, keeping her locked away inside, I couldn't decide!!! Charlie's face falls as he sees it, aghast, stumbling through the darkest remnants of his memories, and my heart panged for him, needing to console him, having never seen him so frightened, so tremulous, so...... vulnerable. He's terrified out of his mind. Shrinking back against the wall, his chest shuddering as his worst childhood trauma, Mr. Tim, calls out to him, haunting, and for a moment, he's that helpless little boy again, retreating back inside himself, begging the voice to stop. But even Mr. Tim cannot compare to the vengeful apparition waiting upstairs........

Cassie Manx, a ghastly vision, beautiful and terrible, in a white gown, with her mangled face, and fierce, glassy eyes, appears, and Charlie's heart stops, his lips trembling on her name as he falls back, horrified, against the closet.

"Come now, Charles. You know I've always been here...... nagging at you from the back of your mind, like a song you can't get out of your head......"

Cassie puts the needle down on the Victrola, and forcibly takes a dismayed Charles into her arms. "I'll lead this time," She hisses sardonically, and I can't help but notice the paralyzing parallels between this, and his dance with Jolene. He was so commanding, so haughty, seductive, dangerous, somehow both gentle and aggressive, as he forced her to dance with him. Here, it is Mrs. Manx that is the aggressor, not just in the way she yanks him about the room, erratic, threatening, but in the merciless accusations, that she wields like a knife. "You always were such a terrible dancer, Charles, my father paid for classes, but it didn't help. That's all you've ever done, spin us around in circles." I'm so torn, because Cassie is a blinding FORCE, a fearsome apparition, finding in death, the words, the voice, she didn't have in life, punishing and mesmerizing, making Charlie suffer, degrading him, each facing their demons in each other, in this dance with death. But again, my heart BLEEDS for my beautiful boy in his admonishment, called a failure of a man, a selfish husband, and careless father. (Also, I'm sorry, Cassie, but DAMN your ex husband CAN dance, I've seen it!!!!)

"You say that Christmasland is a safe haven for children, but really it's a place for you to escape yourself, a place where you are not a failure, where you are not a coward who devoured his own family, to FEED his insatiable ego."

Charlie's voice cracks, as he raises his protest, falling back against the wall, Cassie caressing his face with sinister intent, as he closes his stricken eyes. "That is why it will all turn to STATIC." I shiver with the frigid tension between them, and Charlie shivers too, beneath her fingernails, as she gets under his skin, both of us destroyed by these words, and all I want to do is run, pull him into my arms, soothe his trembling fear!!! And yet..... part of me is marveling at this terrifying creature, who could make even Charlie Manx afraid, leave him wrought with guilt, and in this moment, oddly enough, Cassie Manx has never been more ALIVE.

My favourite part of this scene, was how each of them were fighting to protect Millie from the other. An avenging ghost, and a Supernatural Strong Creative Vampire, and yet in this scene especially, we see them as what they are at the heart. Parents. In the midst of all the paranormal activity, there's something so human, so domestic about it, arguing what's best, who's best for their daughter. "How's that gonna happen, Cassie?" Charles snarls, the cast spell wearing off. "I'M IMMORTAL!!!" I loved that, his nostrils flaring, protectively pulling Millie to his side. This is beautiful writing and such a powerful scene, I was entranced.

There was one thing, however, that I thought was incredibly foolish of Cassie...... "Vic McQueen did...... She's already here." I wanted to scream. WHY Cassie!? WHY would you TELL Charlie that Vic had breeched the walls of Christmasland!? What MADNESS!!! I get that she wants to see his face when she reveals Vic, the woman he hates most, second only to his mother, has done the impossible, but the ONE thing Vic has going for her in the Christmasland strike, is the element of surprise. Now, even that's gone....... Instead, I would have had Cassie help Vic by distracting Charlie, delaying him in the house, and then have Charlie figure it out the longer it goes on, realize why she's been so desperate to keep his company!!! Now, THAT would have been AMAZING!!! I did love that last line however, as Charlie tears out of Sleigh House.

"Go, before Vic McQueen releases the white static that takes us all!!!!" Holy epic foreshadowing, Cass........ WOW!!!!

The scenes with Vic and Maggie storming Christmasland are incredible, and I LOVED how Maggie shouting, "Red Light!!!" a very human trick, worked perfectly on the vampire girl!!! Well DONE, NOS4A2!!!! I also loved how Vic KNEW Wayne was going to pick the astronaut costume, even though this little space man wasn't him!!! Thus far, between the lofty sleighcoaster, the thousands of glittering lights, and the gingerbread houses, covered in powder snow, Christmasland has been a luminous dream, a paradise for the lost. But all too quickly, as the girls near a looming pine, ominous in size and appearance, we are introduced to the first of the nightmare elements. My stomach churned, sickened, as I saw them, human heads hanging from The Great Tree like ornaments, shriveled with ghoulish expressions. What the HELL!? Maggie shares my horror, and as her hand flies to cover her mouth, gagging, I just know...... Joe. I felt the tears fall, horrified and angry that Charlie had done this to Joe, my heart sinking, staring into his empty, sad eyes. The rile in Charlie's cry, sounds the beginning of the end. "VICTORIA MCQUEEN, Welcome........ to Christmasland!!!!! The showdown is about to begin.

Charlie Manx, having shaken off the horrors of Sleigh House, now grins smugly, the coloured lights flickering behind him, catching his glossy hair in their glow, his black coal eyes, flashing mischief and danger, as he stands with them, his children, the New Family Manx. With the daughter that he's always loved on one side, and the son he's never had on the other, Charlie Manx has everything he's ever wanted, and now, as Vic McQueen stands defiant, his opposite, her promising death is just the topper on the Christmas Tree.

"Let's go, Wayne, c'mon," Vic calls out to her son, but the waver in her voice, proves that she already knows it's not going to be that easy.

"But he LIKES it here, at home with me, and all his new friends....... Charlie's voice begins light, and jovial, in a spectacularly good mood, and then hardens, accusingly. "Why would you SPOIL that!?"

"Don't listen to a word he says, Wayne, do you hear me?" Vic's anger and frustration starts to bleed through her voice, and the McQueen turned Manx, doesn't answer.

"Wayne McQueen!!!"

"That's NOT my name!!!" He shoots back with his mother's defiance. And here, I fall even more in LOVE with Charlie Manx, besotted, because he has the CUTEST freaking laugh, I have EVER heard in my life!!! It's pure music, that darling, boyish giggle, eyes widening, half surprised, half mad with adoration for his devoted son. Laughing in her face, eyes dancing, seeming to say, "Told you so," Charlie dismisses her charges of hurting him, being a monster, with an adorable, indignantly yelled RUBBISH!!! However, just as he's gained a son, he seems to be losing a daughter.......

"My bridge didn't get me here on its own, Charlie. Wayne, ask her. If she's so happy here, why does she want a ride out from me?"

Ooooh PLOT TWIST, Charlie!!! Charlie's laughing features, somber, intense with this revelation. Millie asking him to go with her to the real world, was one thing...... but asking VIC MCQUEEN for her aid, helping secret her inside, defying her own father, was the rebellious princess' act of treason against the Christmasland King.

Vic continues to appeal to Millie, pleading for her help, encouraging her to take back what her father's taken away from her, and while you can see the words' effect on Millie, her eyes sad, and emotional, she cannot speak against him, not yet. Charlie knows not to let Vic see him sweat, and he doesn't even bat an eye as he muses coolly.

"Why don't we let Wayne choose? Do you want to go with...... HER," he snarks disdainfully, trying not to roll his eyes, as Vic smiles hopeful at her son. "Or do you want to stay with me, in Christmasland.......?

All eyes on Wayne, and Charlie's smirking, because he already knows what his darling boy is going to say, although I, myself, was rather stunned at the way he said it........

"Why would we EVER leave? We JUST got here," He frowns, his tiny voice cruel, and condescending. Whoah, Wayne. That's cold.......

I LOVED this scene, the palpable tension, the scathing betrayals, in both the McQueen and Manx camps, as Charlie and Vic's kids switch sides, turning on their parents, moving across the board like chess pieces. I also noticed how Charlie stood closer to Wayne than Millie, as the scene went on, and I couldn't help but wonder...... as much as she aches to be her human self again, and grow up to go on adventures, perhaps it was also jealousy that fueled this drastic turn around. Something about what she said to him, earlier in the Ice Maze...... "I have ENOUGH friends," and how she went out of her way not to be there when Wayne arrived, and how Charlie said, "Why don't we let WAYNE, choose," dismissing her own professed desire to Vic, without a second address. Millie has been her father's sugar plum for centuries...... what will happen now that his son has become the apple of his eye?

"Scissors for the DRIFTER, everyone!!!!" Charlie yells to his little army, that delectable rile in his voice, as his fanged children descend on Vic and Maggie!!! Charlie's done playing, toying, teasing, he's kept one McQueen in, and it's time to go for the kill, win the game, and take the other McQueen OUT!!! Vic and Maggie dashing through the snow, dodging little vampires, setting bombs all the way, and the chase is ON!!! I was so THRILLED that horrid, appalling tree was the first thing to go, exploding into flames, victoriously felled!!!! Yes!!! THANK YOU, MAGGIE!!! This one's for JOE!!! I had NO idea though, that setting fire to Christmasland would hurt Charlie the same way damage done to the Wraith does, and somehow it seemed even WORSE!!! Charlie's nose bleeds and he coughs into his hand, staggering into the toy shop, and I don't know who I'm more afraid for........

Scissors for the Drifter rages on, Maggie and Vic sneaking their way through the vast, dazzling array of carnival games, and racing amusement rides, blanketed in fresh snow. The Red Light Girl from earlier, sidles up to Maggie, and all of us elicit a collective gasp, as she slips the scrabble bag from Maggie's coat pocket. "Give it back..... Red Light, Red Light," Maggie warns, trying not to panic, but you can see it in her eyes....... That bag is everything to her, and she doesn't know who she is without it.......... "New game!" The other girl exclaims with claws and a growl, and her and Mike play keep away with the bag, much to Maggie's frantic dismay. I was so relieved, and tremendously appreciated NOS4A2's approach to the Found Children of Christmasland, how fun and games were their first instinct, and maiming and murder were more of a side quest.

Meanwhile, Vic, having escaped the receding vampire throng with her life, unscathed, save one bite, isn't giving up. There's no WAY in HELL she's going anywhere without Wayne You'll-Never-Be-A-Manx McQueen. In the midst of the death defying chase, however, I was so hoping Vic would look up once, and see Charlie's face in the moon!!! Making a face of her own, mouth open in disgust, I can just hear her!!!! What the HELL-!? I would literally have given anything for her reaction to that!!! She spies Wayne, determined, coaxing him, and he looks at her maniacally, with his new father's malicious smirk, as he hurries away, making her chase him, fleeing into a vast, seemingly endless maze, made entirely of ice.

As we rise to the scintillating climax, we find the children's betrayal against their feuding parents has taken a defining, final turn. Charlie and Millie's scene in the toyshop was SENSATIONAL!!! Mattea Conforti plays Charlie's daughter with such conviction, and I am SO impressed by the emotional range, the rare talent and prowess of expression, she has at this young of an age!!! Charlie coaxes Millie in his sweet, fatherly way at first, trying to govern his anger, as he tells her about the demise of that horror show Christmas tree.

"The Great Tree........ We dreamt it up together, branch, by branch, and now it's gone."

Millie seems altogether unmoved, and if there was ever a moment that she is so over Christmasland, it's now. Charlie tries to reason with her, tries to accuse Vic for his daughter's crimes against him.

"You are not the first to be twisted into knots by Vic McQueen...... Don't you see? She's POISONED you and your mother against me, made you doubt your own FATHER!!!"

Millie begs him to let Wayne go, let Vic leave with her son, and asks him to stay with her, no more new kids in Christmasland. Charlie hesitates. "I have work to do. And that wouldn't be very fair to Wayne......" Charlie's not giving up his son, not even if it means losing his daughter, and Millie knows it......

"I'm not enough...... I never was. I begged you to leave with me, and you said no. Now, I ask you to stay, and you won't do that either?"

I teared up like crazy, she's so heartbroken, so emotionally wrought in this moment, and I saw a little girl, who would give up all of Christmasland's ornamental wonders, her birthday, and all of her friends, all of her dreams, just to have her father's sole attention.

Charlie's rage starts to take over, veiling his pain, trying to inspire Millie to action, win her back, promising her all will be forgiven, if she takes her sword, and hangs Vic's head from a new tree.

"You want to hang Vic's head on a tree? Go DO it yourself......... I'm LEAVING."

Charlie snaps, seizing her arm, nostrils flaring, the pain feeding his fury. "I am your FATHER!!! You will DO exactly as I SAY!!" A lot of people cried out against this action, of him forcibly taking her arm, but I saw it less as a show of patriarchal aggression, and much more as him desperately clinging to her, out of fear. She's his joy, his everything, and he doesn't want her to go, not now, not ever.

"You can't stop me...... unless........ you'd never raise a hand to a child, would you, Father?"

He lets her go at once, unnerved by her clever challenge, and watches heartbroken, as she takes her leave of him. Fuming, he snatches up the shiny, silver autopsy hammer off the table, his favourite toy in the shop, and leaves the store, just as the candy shop blows up in a splinter of wood and a burst of orange fire. He coughs, bent over, his hair pulling loose from his coif, his nose bleeding. Charlie and his dream world are unraveling fast.

"I want to play a game with you........"

Back in the ice maze, Wayne approaches his mother, and I have a BAD feeling, his voice eerie, and unkind........ Danger, Vic, Danger....... I whisper, the frosty air ripe with foreboding.

Vic smiles, fighting the tears, saying she'll play any game he wants, even his NBA basketball game, and she'll let him whoop her butt. Wayne resists, and I think his resentment starts to show, having never had a Christmas, having to always watch her leave him, no matter how good he's been.

"You know what Christmas every day means, don't you? No 4th of July, no friends, no sunshine, no summer, no swimming, no hotdogs, no fireworks. That was our favourite day in the whole wide world, remember? We would go to the lake with your dad, and watch the bright colours explode in the stars in the sky........ You always loved it."

I cried. Vic is so not a sentimental person, but here she is, so sweetly pouring her heart out to her son, and it is beautiful, and so moving, as she lets herself love him, be vulnerable in that love, and let that vulnerability make her strong. "Even though it's impossible, I'm here, fighting Charlie Manx because I made a promise to you, and I'm done breaking promises to you, Baby," Wayne's eyes soften, looking again like his human self, her words striking every chord, finally breaking Charlie's thrall, reaching him, and Vic cries, overwhelmed with the love she's let herself feel, pulling him in for hug, cradling the back of his head so tenderly. I don't think we could have ever prepared ourselves.......... for what came next. The music swells to its emotional height, and then deadens, a swift stab of metal scissors, and I feel their sharp pierce, leaving a sucking hole in my own chest, my breath strangled, as Wayne STABS his mother with the scissors, running off, laughing, with the cheerful exclaim of, "I win Scissors for the Drifter!!! Et tu, Bats!?!? It's a SHOCKING, tragic scene, that leaves you with a hollow fear. Is there any of Wayne left to save?

Ahhhhh but the BEST is yet to come, Kids!!! That scintillating climax, I promised you, the most chilling of all of Christmasland's thrills? It's here....... It's fire and ice, and all the sinister deliciousness you've been craving, and it's my FAVOURITE scene in an episode full of sparkling snow white perfection. Maggie, after chasing Red Light Girl into the Ice Maze, and taking her bag back, is saved by a staggering Vic, and our two dauntless heroines, navigate their way through Charlie's mind-bending, frozen labyrinth.

"You're bleeding......" Vic manages, out of breath, still clutching the stab wound on her side.

"YOU'RE bleeding......" Maggie counters cleverly, and it's a really sweet moment amidst all the screaming chaos, as the girls laugh together, Maggie supporting Vic, as they stumble and search for the exit. The feeling is mutual. It's time to get the HELL out of Christmasland.

Drops of blood, crimson stark against the blinding white, tall black leather boots, a supple leather glove reaching down to touch the blood, brushing the snow. Charlie.

The girls hurry as fast as their injuries will allow, crying for joy when they see the exit, both bitten and bruised, one brutally stabbed, chancing a glance over their shoulders when they hear a noise. But when they look back, the inviting exit is gone, and in its place, a looming wall of solid ice.

"I just saw it, it was there!!!" Maggie cries bewildered, holding Vic upright, desperately confused.

Charlie, nose bleeding, a devastatingly handsome dark figure, creeps up behind them, hammer in hand, so happy to explain.

"That's the beauty of an inscape. Everything here is a product of my........ imagination." He simpers sinisterly, and in a move that is straight up SYLAR, playfully brings the hammer to tap his forehead. "Not fluid, like water, but semi-solid...... like, say...... ICE," Charlie pounds the hammer into the ice once, teasing and deadly, the music shivering, as he advances on them, trapping them in a dead end.

"Ironic, isn't it, Vic...... When you had Wayne in your life, you were always looking for an exit, and now you're here, looking for him. Longing for forgiveness, which you'll never find, just the way your father never found it. It's a McQueen family tradition........ dying in dead ends!!!"

Another searing truth exposed in the midst of a good seethe, and Vic, rather than spitting curses, reining down on him full force, pleads with him instead, tears in her eyes, her voice tremulous. "Let her go, Manx!!! You can have me-"

Charlie Manx snarls, his eyes murderous with dark fury, thrusting the hammer at Vic, breathing hard, rasping.

"I ALREADY HAVE YOU!!!!!"

I can honestly say, that was the SEXIEST damn thing I've EVER seen in my entire life, my whole body went numb, quivering as I touched my heart, barely able to whisper, "Yes!!!! YES you do!!!!" How the HELL that ice maze didn't melt in the face of that kind of LETHAL heat, will forever be a Christmasland Mystery. There aren't even words, clumsy, coherent, or otherwise, for how HOT I was for Charlie Manx in this moment, melting in his thrall.

Without another word, he pulls back the hammer, and strikes Maggie with a deafening CRACK, and she goes down HARD, moaning in anguish. Charlie's spell shivers around me, as the fire just ignited, is introduced to the coldest fear. Not again...... No, no, no, Charlie, PLEASE GOD don't kill, Maggie!!!! I can't do it, not again, NOT HER, no, please, I'm still grieving Chris, Baby, STOP!!!" My heart on pause, and Charlie hesitates, before the bomb beneath the sleigh coater EXPLODES, setting off a chain reaction, bomb, after bomb, billowing smoke, hungry, licking flames, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little sad, the shining dream becoming an inferno nightmare, as Christmasland burns into a firestorm.

Charlie SCREAMS in excruciating agony, aging rapidly, hammer fumbling from his grasp, into the blanket of snow, crouching in anguish, and Vic doesn't hesitate to pluck up the hammer, and crack him HARD across the skull, knocking him out cold. With a grunt of frustration, seething hatred boiling up from her whole body, she smashes the hammer against Charlie's bloodied skull again, and again....... and again.

"Vic, you have to STOP! It won't do any good, you KNOW that!!! He's just an old bitch, that's all he ever was....."

Okay, seriously Mags, I love you, but can people just STOP calling Charlie a BITCH!? First Bing and now Maggie!? Ughhh, I HATEEE it so much! Second...... for the LOVE of GOD, Victoria McQueen, thank you for stopping that brutal smashing of my boy's skull, but, whatever you do...... DON'T DROP THAT FREAKING HAMMER!!!!! She does. She drops it. WHY does she drop it, why not take it with her!? Why leave Charlie's favourite toy behind for him to murder her with!?!?

While we're at it, I have another question!!! As Charlie searches frantically through the crowd of running scared vampire children, the park engulfed in flames, asking each one that passes, if they've seen Millie, WHY do they not answer him!? He's Charlie Freaking Manx, their famed Father Christmas!!! He's like a rock star, a saviour to them, whyyyyy won't they help him!? So Maddening. I was also surprised that Millie's ornament was her mother's golden cat brooch. After seeing the silver moon one, in "Gunbarrel," last year's season finale, that looked like Charlie, hanging on one of the trees outside the ruins of Sleigh House, I thought for SURE that it was hers!!! Who else's could it be!?

I CHERISHED the absolute MOM Moment Vic has at the end of this episode, where she's just so DONE!!!! She doesn't care that the world's on fire, doesn't care that her son is a soulless vampire that just stabbed her, she's freaking HAD it!!!

"BRUCE WAYNE MCQUEEN!!!!" She yells in unhinged reprimand, finding her Mom voice, as she charges him, wrests the scissors out of his hands, hurling them away, and hauls him up off the ground, even while he's kicking and screaming!!! He's surly in his protest, yelling out how much he'll hate her, and never forgive her, if she takes him away, calling out for Charlie to come save him!!! That was so freaking fantastic, again, such a raw, real human moment in the midst of the supernatural cacophony. The coloured lights flicker before they go dead, plunging Christmasland into complete darkness.

"Christmas is over, isn't it?"

"Yeah Bats..... It's over."

Or is it.......? I have it on good authority, from Father Christmas himself, no less that Christmasland is FOREVER......... Let's hope Charlie Manx and the Wraith are too, as our seductive villain's dreams go up in flames. Here's to the SERIES BEST EPISODE, and to our beloved supernatural fantasy, NOS4A2 getting renewed for SEASON 3!!!! Christmasland in flaming ruin, his son and daughter strewn, both forsaken, Charlie find the Wraith, and save your soul, else your winter reverie will be naught, but a smoking hole. You have to fight, you have to make it!!! Turn the key, Charlie, it's time........ to get CREATIVE!!!!

#nos4a2 review #nos4a2 #charlie manx #vic mcqueen #wayne mcqueen #millie manx #cassie manx #maggie leigh #welcome to christmasland

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misssunflowersandsangria · 4 years

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Chapter 1: The Kiss

Hello my deers! I hope that you’re not tired of me! Lol I’ve been wanting to push myself as a writer so this a small departure from my usual fluffy fics. The fluff and romance is still there. I do hope that you enjoy what I have for you!

Summary: It was her wedding day. For most people that would be a joyous celebration. In Temari’s case, she was a dethroned Princess forced to marry the man that slaughtered her brothers and took over her homeland. The day was set. The bride, the groom, and the man that would inevitably steal her heart.

Temari glanced at her reflection in the dingy mirror. Her once piercing teal eyes were clouded over with a kind of grief that the pounds of makeup couldn’t hide. The crown on her head felt heavy along with the elaborate wedding robes she wore. As a child, she never envisioned her wedding day, but if she had this certainly wasn’t it.

A dethroned princess set to marry the man that had killed her brothers and claimed her homeland. This marriage was the last step in securing his place as the Kazekage.

The coup d’etat had caught them by surprise. After Gaara had been installed as the Kazekage they knew that dissent had remained but she and her brothers could have never conceived this. The few people loyal to their side had been slaughtered in the streets. Despite how valiantly they fought her brothers fell as well. She squeezed her eyes shut as the memory replayed in her mind.

She fought as long as she could but was not a match for the cruel military he’d amassed. She was willing to die alongside her countrymen and for her home but in a cruel twist of fate their “leader” had taken an interest in her. Claiming that he’d done all of this for her. She’d become his sort of sick obsession. He decreed that they were to be married. He claimed it was the way to legitimately take the throne of Kazekage. To show himself the true leader of Suna. It was just another cruel show of power. To prove that he’d destroyed any and all traces of their lineage and authority.

At first, he tried to “woo” her with gifts and sweet words. Promises of a beautiful future together. She rebuffed any and all attempts each time sending him into a spiraling rage.

Each day she tried to escape. Whether that was dead or alive, it didn’t matter. But he was nothing if not smart. He ensured that she was without a weapon and under constant surveillance. Every time she tried to leave they’d beat her within almost an inch of her life. Shadowy figures that did all they could to break her spirit along with her body. Despite how broken and bruised they left her she refused to completely give in. Once she was healed enough she would try again the next day. She was born a warrior and refused to go down without a fight. She would only leave this Earth on her terms.

Even now on the day of her wedding. The day that she would truly be left with nothing. She refused to cry. As cruel as their taunts were and as broken her body was she refused to let them see her sorrow. She didn’t know if tears were possible in the desert.

“Princess Temari.” She stood up with one last glance. A farewell to who she was at one time unable to avoid her destiny for any longer.

The hall was filled with people from Suna and beyond. Some familiar faces that she believed at one time to be her friends and allies. Her fiancé stood at the altar. The familiar cruel smile etched across his face. The same one that he wore when he callously murdered the people closest to her.

She swallowed back the bile that appeared in her throat pushing her shoulders back. Her head was held high refusing to shrink under the evil gazes sent her way. She was the last of the Sand Siblings. The last of the family line that had ruled Suna since it’s beginning. He had taken everything from her but her pride still remained. She was meant to survive. Despite what they believed she was still Suna’s Princess. She would find a way.

Temari took his clammy claw in her hand. She was sure that to the crowd watching they were the picture of wedded bliss as the minister began. She wondered if those who came from far away knew what was actually happening. If they even cared at all.

The voice droned on as she imagined a much different life. Perhaps a wedding where she was a willing participant. Her brothers would be there supporting her looking on with joy. She would be surrounded by her friends and people that loved her. Her handsome fiancé promising to love her for all their lives. What a beautiful life she could have had.

As the officiant moved into the vows confusion erupted all around her. Shouts rang while weapons whirled through the air as bodies dropped. In the chaos, her ears focused on one voice above all the rest. Soothing and smoky it directed the hidden shinobis.

She glanced down seeing that next to her, her fiancé was paralyzed, wrapped in shadows forced to watch his stolen empire fall.

“You’re not who I was expecting at all.” That one distinct voice addressed her.

Temari’s eyes met dark ones staring at her with a sort of softness and amusement. His lips were curved into a smirk and it was the kindest look that she’d received in months. His hair was pulled to the top of his head while his hands formed the symbols needed to keep up his jutsu. She peered at him confused recognizing a familiar symbol.

“You’re from the Leaf?”

“Yes.”

This only drew more questions and confusion. “Why are you here? Who are you?”

“I’m a friend, Princess.” He assured her while the chaos continued around them. And she believed him. Her last glimmer of hope was attached to this unknown ninja from the Leaf.

“I will fucking kill you!” She heard her betrothed threaten.

“Shut up, We’re talking.” The unnamed shinobi demanded. The shadows wrapped around his throat tighter.

“Here, this might convince you.” Surprising her he handed her a familiar metal item. Her hands lifted to her mouth in shock tears emerging in her eyes.

“Your brothers are alive and they’re waiting for you.” Her fingers traced over the familiar item. It was a secret between her siblings. They each had a piece of the puzzle that when they all came together formed the symbol of the Kazekage family. It was something that they had with them since they were children. Even now she had hers carefully hidden on her.

They were alive.

“We need to get out of here but first, let’s deal with your dear fiancé. I assume you have no attachments to him so you’d have no objections to killing him.” Temari’s eyes gleamed seeing the man that had made her life a living hell for months on his knees begging and pleading for his life. Even as they beat her she never once looked as pathetic as he did.

She grinned cruelly before turning to the Leaf Shinobi.

“What’s your name?”

“Shikamaru Nara.”

“Nice to meet you. Is your jutsu solid?”

“He’s not getting away. I have shinobi covering this building so no one will be able to get inside either.”

“Good.” Before he could ask any more questions she pulled him into a deep kiss. Her hands ran up through his hair pulling him flush against her body. Shikamaru was frozen in surprise before a hand rubbed up and down her spine falling into the kiss. It felt like being hit by electricity. A blissful moment in time among dead bodies and carnage.

They vaguely recognized repressed screams and desperate attempts to be freed.

“Shikamaru…” Temari breathed against his lips her arms wrapped around his neck

“Yes, Princess?”

“Please do the honors.”

Temari held tightly onto Shikamaru as the shadows tightened. She watched the life fade from her fiancé’s eyes. The darkness that was drowning her going along with it. When his body hit the ground the invisible chain around her neck fell too and she could breathe again.

She breathed in Shikamaru’s comforting scent of pine trees and smoke before resting her face against his neck. He held her silently feeling her warm tears against his skin. They needed to get out of there but she needed his comfort more. The feeling of her warm lips was still present on his own. Instinctively he pressed a soft kiss against her temple.

“I’m here Princess. The shadows won’t hurt you anymore.” Her arms clutched tighter around him as she finally allowed herself a brief moment to fall apart. Trusting that he’d hold her together.

She took a step back trying to regain her composure and ignore the fact that she missed his comfort and warmth. Never once had she cried so openly.

Her shoulders sagged as the weight of what had just occurred in mere minutes set in. She imagined that the day that his life was taken she would erupt into a joyous dance. Right now seeing the devastation all around her rained down the enormity of the situation.

“What now?”

Shikamaru took her hand in his squeezing it tightly. Wanting her to see him as a lifeline to clutch onto for now. “I’m taking you to the Leaf where we’ll meet up with your brothers. We’re going to have to fight our way out of here so this might help.”

He pulled out a scroll and from it, a familiar weapon came. The weight of her tessen in her hand was like embracing an old friend.

She opened it up wide and the wind around her began to swirl. Shikamaru just gazed at her in awe. When he’d first seen her she looked like a broken porcelain doll. Now she was the vision of ferocity. The famed Princess of Suna and the mistress of the wind.

“Ready Princess?” He asked with that now comforting smirk.

She nodded with a grin. She was ready. For a new life, new chances and new possibilities. Her eyes blazed with renewed determination.

“Let’s go.”

Thanks for reading loves! I have so many WIPs but sometimes there are stories that grab a hold of you and won’t let you go till you write them. This is one of them. I was originally going to keep it to myself but I wanted to share it and hope that you enjoy it as well.

It won’t be too long, I have a general idea where I want it to go.

I do have the next chapter pretty much done. I won’t hold it hostage for too long. So chapter two will be out soon. I’ve got a bunch of smutty one-shots in the works too for my Lemonade series. This story will probably have at least one chapter with some fun stuff too.

Thanks for reading and giving the story a chance. I appreciate you reading and any kudos/comments!

Love you all!

#shikatema #shikatem #shikamaru x temari #temari #princess temari #shikamaru nara #fanfic

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sapphire-swan3536 · 4 years

Text

World’s Best Asshole

Based on this Reddit writing Prompt

ENJOY!

---

I supposed I noticed around my teenage years. Every friend I picked up a pen for would get news of divorce from their usually lovey-dovey parents, or, if not that, they would at least break a bone. It was only natural that I got called "cursed" and whatnot. Uncreative jerks. I ignored them for a while, and continued along my merry little asshole path.

Things started looking up when I started actually listening to the rumors about me. I gathered that there were about three major rules about the "curse":

If the cursed does a good deed for you, you will lose something in your life.

The magnitude of the good deed is unrelated to the magnitude of the loss.

The loss will happen within a day.

A pretty solid list of rules for a pool of hormone-soaked, drug-pumped teenagers. I was actually pretty proud. Imagine being interesting enough to warrant the attention of a thousand (probably) undiagnosed ADHD kids. I was a goddamn urban legend!

So what was the first thing my edgy teenage ass did with my newfound reverse-karma powers?

Viva la revolution! Overthrow the overlords! (Read: edgy teenage ass)

Well, I wish I could say it was that dramatic. It wasn't.

It mostly consisted of me buying a truckload of overpriced items on Amazon marked "Amazon's Choice," and writing a couple of fan-worship posts for Jeff Bezos in a kind of BuzzFeed News Style (10 Reasons Jeff Bezos is the Jeff Best). It was good, honest work, and it was hard, but someone had to do it.

I went to bed, thinking I was hilarious, and I dreamed of winning a trophy that said: "Congratulations, you are the world's best asshole."

The next morning saw Jeff Bezo's "dethronement" all over every news network ever (including BuzzFeed), people all throughout the world celebrating the redistribution of the, frankly, ridiculous amount of money he made.

Well damn.

I fulfilled my own dream that day, as I play-dohed a neon green and purple trophy for myself, with my fantastic sculpting skills, and slapped a label that read "World's Best Asshole" on it.

After my 21st birthday, I had created a pastime of walking through New York City, looking like a confused, naive, country bumpkin, and running into nice businessmen who would lend me money to start my new life in the city. Lucky me! (record time for finding these "nice businessmen" was 17 seconds; go me!) I'd make a deal with them; sometimes their only price was to make me a guarantor on another client's loan. Great deal! Magnificent! Where do I sign?

We'd talk over a small lunch, and I'd pay the bill. They would hand me a thick wad of cash, and I'd go home for the day.

They usually never contact me ever again, and I know better than to ask. It's a hard career path I've chosen.

I spend that hard-earned money on products I hear are made with child-labor, or in sweatshops with underpaid workers. They say it's the tears that make the chocolate taste so good. Next day would find the company's stocks dramatically dropping, and a nice number of new, out of nowhere people entering in local universities or highschools (prices for education have dropped since the Fall of Bezos).

I was a happy asshole.

Then, the universe snitched on me. I don't know how, but they must've somehow grown a mouth and an asshole (or maybe just a hole that accomplished both), and snitched to somebody.

Some people in suits picked me up, and I was told I was to be punished for disturbing the flow of the universe.

"'Flow of the universe?' You fucking kidding me? Who the fuck believes in that stuff anymore? Are you anti-vax? Let me go, you walking bottles of essential oils!" I kicked multiple shins.

"Silence, sorcerer."

"Oh, I actually do like the sound of that. Proceed."

They threw me in front of what I assumed to be a judge.

"Make your case," The masked man boomed from above.

"And if I don't?"

"Execution."

Yikes. I panicked, mind racing. Would anyone miss me? Probably not, since I've been alone for as long as I could remember. I had money, sure, from a loaded asshole father overseas, but have I had any sort of meaningful human interaction? I've lived a worthless life, except for my outstanding achievements that no one knew I had. But despite it all, I wanted to live.

"I don't have a case. I have disrupted some order of something, at the very least, in order to align it to my own moral values. I cannot make a case for myself, but I can make one for you." I proposed, my tongue moving faster than my brain.

"What?" Confusion. Right. We like confusion in a negotiation.

"Don't you want something? To become king? To ravage your enemies?" I rambled, knowing I sounded like a YA novel villain. Eh. Better than the protagonist.

"..."

"If you spare me," I swallowed, keeping my voice steady. "I will knock down whatever stands in your path. I will become your perfect weapon. Spare me, and I will make you king.

#shortstory #creativewriting #redditwritingprompt #humor #flashfiction #story

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tachipaws · 5 years

Text

so uhhhhh

I watched the Game of Thrones finale just a little bit ago

and I have some thoughts

spoilers under the cut.

Firstly, seeing Tyrion find Jaime and Cersei together had me almost burst into tears. As soon as he saw Jaime’s golden hand I kinda thought, oh this is a big gag, the hand will be there with Cersei and Jaime will come sidling out from somewhere, he lived thank god. But no. Jaime died in the arms of a woman he loved, taking all these years of beautiful character development with him. And I don’t say this solely as a Braime fan. I LOVED Jaime’s character. He always tried to do the right thing, and even when he was tempted by Cersei, even when he gave in, he still came back and tried to do what he thought was best. He saved thousands of lives when he killed the Mad King, and he suffered in silence for it. He stood with Brienne and with the Starks in the Battle of Winterfell, even when his own queen refused to send her help. He tried to save Cersei from certain death, and their child, tried to get her to leave and live with him in obscurity, because they would be safe and happy and their child would grow and live. But no. They die, and all it serves is to give Dany her win and Tyrion some last-minute angst. But god, seeing him crouch over his beloved brother and sister, I could feel that he felt responsible for their deaths, and it was heart wrenching to watch.

And then Dany. Oh, beautiful Dany. I’ve loved her character from the start, and all through her arc, even when she made choices that weren’t for the best, even when they put her on a White Savior complex, even when it became clear the writers had lied and were going to make her turn out just like her father. I knew she’d die this episode, but it didn’t make watching it any easier. I had so much hope watching through the series that Dany would be the one to dethrone the Lannisters, give the people a kind and just ruler, and be everything she set out to be. For her to lose so much, from her family to her friends, and then die with nothing as well, broke my heart and even as I sit here typing I have to hold back tears. I loved Danaerys’ character so much, and I’m disgusted that she was turned into a Mad Queen. The writers don’t know jack shit about character development and it really shows with her. She should have grown and realized that maybe she wasn’t best suited for a throne, at least not the one in Westeros, and either become an adviser or return to Mereen when all was said and done. I’m so glad Drogon destroyed the Iron Throne, because it’s nothing but a death sentence anyway. Fuck that throne and fuck the writers for making it so unnecessarily important. Danaerys Targaryan was meant to be different, was meant to break the wheel. But in the end, she was crushed by it like her father and so many others before her. The Targaryans die out after a legacy of incest, mental illness, fear, and death. A complete waste of an incredible character played by an amazingly dedicated actress.

Bran being named King of Westeros was something I knew was coming bc I’d asked for the spoiler, but it was still kind of a surprise in an “are they REALLY gonna do it” kind of way. I really fucking hate that his title is Bran the Broken, as if that’s the only B word that can possibly describe a man who defied death and became the Three-Eyed Raven, but again these writers are fuckin terrible so I guess that’s what we get. I didn’t like how Sam’s idea to have the people choose a ruler was sneered at so harshly. It just shows that everyone there enjoys having all the power, which goes against the characterization of at least half of them. But I guess all the upper-class have to be assholes at least a little, huh. I don’t know if I do or don’t like Bran being the king, but I did like how it was brought up. He is the living history of the realm as Tyrion said, and now he will live on to be its future as well. For a kid who was tossed out of a window after seeing the former queen having sex with her brother, I’d say that’s a pretty good decent glow up of sorts. I almost wish there would be another season, if only to see how Westeros fairs under Bran’s rule with Tyrion at his side. I can only hope everyone lives to see the peace they finally deserve, after suffering so much under the rule of families hungry for fame and riches and titles.

Arya leaving is the one thing I’m just, really fucking bothered by. I don’t recall anywhere her having a desire to travel and see new parts of the world. When she left Westeros she did so because it was life or death. She came home to be with her family. And now she’s leaving them for god knows how long to go god knows where. I can’t believe after all the chaos and death these kids have faced and grown up around, she wouldn’t want to stay in Winterfell to be with Jon and Sansa. I just don’t like it. Arya is one of my top favorite characters and watching her grow from a stubborn child into a ruthless assassin was amazing, but somehow her ending off as an explorer just doesn’t feel quite right.

Jon being sentenced to live out his days in the Watch is the cruelest joke in this whole fucking show. Right back where he started, the bastard son of Ned stark, forced to live out his days in the cold and snow at Castle Black, never to have any family or land of his own. After all the attempts to hype up the R+L=J shit, which so many people figured out way too easily, after uncovering the mystery of his real lineage and discovering he’s one of the only two Targaryans left in existence, after all the struggle within himself of not wanting to take the throne from Dany even though he had a legitimate claim and her Mad Queen story line made her unfit to rule (and after having to listen to Varys insist only men can rule properly, tbh I’m not sad he died, I never liked him and he got what he deserved for that shit), he ends right back where he started. Jon was my first favorite character, and I always hurt for him, how he was raised with the Stark children as Ned’s bastard, how much Catelynn seemed like she wanted to love him like her own but just couldn’t, how much it must have hurt him knowing he was hurting her and her just by existing. I would have loved to see Cat find out the truth and their relationship become something different, as he was the son of her husband’s beloved sister and she would have embraced him with open arms and a thousand apologies. She just didn’t know any different, and by the time Jon knew, it was all too late. He’s lost almost all the family he’s ever known, and all the real family he ever had. His whole character arc amounted to nothing. NOTHING. My only hope is that he just goes off north with Ghost, Tormund, and the wildlings, because who’s gonna bother to make sure? Aegon Targaryan will have never existed.

AT LEAST, he finally gave Ghost the fucking pats that direwolf deserved. I was actually really happy to see Ghost and Tormund again, and even happier to see Jon acknowledge Ghost, who’d been by his side from the very start. I’m at least glad knowing they’ll still be together in the true north.

And now the grand finale, the one thing I was completely satisfied with. Sansa Stark The Queen in the North Seeing the crown placed upon her head, seeing her take her rightful place, and hearing her men shout “THE QUEEN IN THE NORTH” made me feel swollen with pride. Sansa has been through hell and back. She watched her father die at the command of a king who tormented her, she was raped by another man who executed her youngest brother, she lost her mother and her oldest brother to a supposed ally, and spent so many seasons a hostage or a tool for other people. But she fought, and she grew, and she became shrewd and cunning at the table. Sansa calculated every step she made and it saw her to ascend the throne, and take her rightful place as the oldest Stark heir. She secured her people’s land and ensured their safety. I can only imagine how proud Ned, Catelynn, Robb, and Rickon would be if they could see Sansa now. No longer is she the scared, air-headed little girl who just wants to marry a noble man and live life in the luxury she’s always known. She’s a war veteran, a general, a wolf through and through.

I started watching Game of Thrones in season 5 I believe, with a group of friends in a stream. I knew about the show but had just never bothered to sit and watch it. After seasons 6 ended, I figured I may as well start at the beginning and have a better understanding of what’s going to happen in the last 2 seasons. I spent about three or four weeks slowly marathoning it around my oldest daughter’s schedule (she’s only six and there’s no way she’s watching it any time soon lmao) and I couldn’t help but fall in love with the characters, the world itself, and the stories being played out. I have to say though, along with so many others, I’m utterly disappointed at the ending, and season 8 as a whole. It felt unrefined, and rushed, and there was no sense that anything meaningful happened in the end. When I saw the writers so brashly say that story lines were for 8th grade books, I realized just how little they care about actually writing, and this season truly reflects that. The deaths were for shock value more than anything else, and the major conflicts were solved so easily it felt as if all the buildup for them had been for something else entirely. I don’t regret watching Game of Thrones by any means, but I do feel sad for Martin that his beautiful complex stories full of beautiful complex characters, were reduced to nothing more than a circle story. All this talk of breaking the wheel, and yet it just rolled right back around to see the unspoken main character end right where he began. Because what’s the point of a story when there’s CGI dragons and big fight scenes?

#paws.txt #game of thrones #game of thrones finale #got spoilers #got review

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littletyrell · 6 years

Text

winter is coming.

For as long as she lived, Margaery was certain she would never rid her mind of the image of the Red Keep from the vantage of the small window in her carriage.

The massive entity had loomed threateningly as they’d made their way out of the city’s limits, and had continued to intimidate even as it began to fade into the distance. It was only when it had been swallowed up by the darkness of the night that Margaery had allowed herself to release a long sigh, purging herself of several weeks’ worth of stress and despair. Her Grandmother reached over to squeeze her knee comfortingly, but Margaery struggled to even offer her a thankful smile.

The young Queen had been assured in the days that preceded her escape that her wrongful imprisonment would be coming to an abrupt halt, and that she was meant to be ready when the time came. Scrolls of paper had been tossed haphazardly into her cell at random times of day and night which swore that there was no evidence to hold her, and that even the High Sparrow would be forced to relent and free her without the labor of a trial by faith. These words were uplifting, but did little to prevent the overwhelming sadness that would appear when Margaery was ultimately left to suffer alone in her small cell -- or to even hear the not-so-distant cries of her similarly-imprisoned cousins, who were beaten by the Septa in an effort to bring forth the so-called “confession of sin” and the “redemption” which would follow. The Septa would come for her as well, but she dared not hit so hard as she was able -- there was some manner of law to be had there for a Queen, and perhaps Tommen had screamed and cried on her behalf from within the safety of the castle’s walls.

The day she was visited by Cersei Lannister had been the worst of her days stuck in that cell. The other Queen had come for no reason other than to gloat, and when that had become clear to Margaery, she was no longer able to hold the hatred she had choked on since first arriving at the capital. Margaery promised that all the pain that Cersei had caused the realm at large would be paid back to her. She lodged curses at the vile woman, and swore up and down that she would receive punishment from the Gods.

And so the Gods answered.

A scroll had been tossed into Margaery’s cell at an early hour, with an uplifting inscription: Cersei imprisoned. A few hours later, another scroll appeared, this one even more promising than the last: Tonight.

All it had taken was a changing of the guard, and suddenly Margaery was being rushed out of her cell -- and Megga and Elinor were not far behind. They were dressed in heavy, concealing cloaks, and shuffled under the protection of darkness into two separate carriages. When Margaery was settled into her own carriage, she had found none other than her Grandmother waiting inside. The embrace that the two women shared had been tender and real, and Margaery had found herself crying in a way she hadn’t since she was a little girl.

Even despite her desire to flee the capital and be done with it for good, the Tyrell in her struggled against the fear, questioning with a sniffle: “ -- will we -- should we -- should we retake the throne?”

“Are you out of your bloody mind, girl?” Olenna had tutted, though the bite lacked in her tone. She brushed a wrinkled hand comfortingly over Margaery’s brow, and the young queen’s eyes closed as she relaxed into the contact. “Cersei’s Sparrow has turned this city upside-down -- if we stay, we’ll be eaten alive with all the rest of them.” Scoffing, Olenna made a move as if to look back in the direction of the capital. “Good riddance to the lot of them. Let them burn together -- and burn they will, if we’re to believe this truth of the Targaryen girl and her three demons. She would’ve had no mercy for anyone else calling themselves Queen, dear -- if it wasn’t for this, I would’ve found another way to get you out of that viper’s nest.”

Margaery tried to keep her elation at bay. It felt so strange, to have abandoned the fantasy of being the queen. It felt as though she’d ended that life in the cell Cersei had made for her, and had come out a different person. The only trouble was she didn’t know what it was this Margaery wanted.

“If not here,” Margaery ventured, “ -- then where? Home?”

“A war in the south,” Olenna agreed with a nod, “what dear Renly had wanted all along, realized all too late.” Olenna scoffed, continuing: “war will come, should Cersei free herself of that prison she’s made for herself. The bitch is slippery, and she very well might manage it. Should she, I suspect she’ll turn to take her revenge on Highgarden and every other land she thinks has wronged her.”

“She feels wronged by the realm,” Margaery added, a frown pulling on her lips. “She seeks war with each House that does not bend to her.” Olenna hummed her agreement, and Margaery leaned back against the carriage seat as she contemplated the path that was laid out before them. They had two choice: to tuck tale and defend themselves, or to defend the realm at large. The latter was what she’d wanted as Queen -- to make the realm better via the removal of the Lannisters. The option still presented itself.

“What if we went North instead?” Margaery thought aloud. “What if we joined Stannis, and made him King? He may not have the love of the people, but he is intelligent and capable -- even Renly would have admitted such a thing.” Sensing her Grandmother’s rejection, Margaery pressed: “it is his right to inherit the throne, Grandmother. And our error to deprive him of it. All of this -- all of this could have been solved so long ago, had we just allowed it to pass as it should have been. The realm will be safer for it. And House Tyrell will be hailed as the saviors of the realm for delivering Stannis unto the throne.”

“It is not a bad thought,” Olenna commented after a long moment, seeming to relent. “But even despite the forces we have with us now, we need the permission of that oaf to move them --”

“What permission do you need?” Margaery countered, her golden gaze suddenly steely. “He will do as you say and question nothing of it. The decision rests with you, Grandmother. The fate of the realm sits in your hands. Yours, and no one else’s.”

While Elinor and Megga returned to the safety of Highgarden, Margaery and Olenna took to the North. Her two abused cousins carried with them a letter sealed by Olenna, ordering Mace to provide a division of their soldiers to journey North and accompany their party. It was some weeks before they had their affirmation -- and some time more before they received word that their soldiers marched. Olenna had commented to Margaery that the troops they promised Stannis would be a month or more delayed when they themselves arrived North, but Margaery was not swayed. She thought only of the best sort of revenge against Cersei -- a Westeros made better in the wake of her dethroning. Perhaps she would not even be executed, despite how badly she knew others -- as well as herself -- would wish to see her blood. Perhaps it would be a worse punishment to have her suffer with her misery.

Across the months of their journey North, Margaery thought often of who she would be in this new world. She’d tried and failed three times over to be a Queen. To the realm at large she remained a maiden, still able to marry -- though she suspected many might see her as some sort of a beautiful curse, unable to bed someone without causing their demise. Despite this, she could not imagine herself marrying some Reachmen lord that her father would choose for her, and being no one at all. Nor could she imagine herself attached to a Storm lord chosen by Stannis to affirm the alliance he knew nothing of, though she knew it was very likely a possibility of her fate. She thought endlessly and determined nothing.

The worst of their journey came when they moved through the Stormlands, and caught word of Loras’ fate. The details were sparse and grim: he had fought Cersei’s false war and had been defeated. He was said to be laid out in agony at Dragonstone, wounded from blade and burns and slowly inching towards death. The news had set Margaery into tears for days, and she had begged for nearly a week to divert their course and reclaim his body from Dragonstone. Her Grandmother’s repeated insistence that they could not go to a land teaming with Lannister soldiers was sound, but Margaery could not rid herself of the nightmare of sweet Loras dying with not a soul around him who truly loved him. She prayed for his soul in the night, and begged for his soul to stay by her side as they journeyed onward.

They had made it through the Vale with relative ease, despite their caution. Upon reaching the territory, they had learned of the pitiable fate of Lysa Tully -- and the fate of her child, now made the ward of Petyr Baelish. They dared not journey to the Eyrie to meet with the mockingbird, though they suspected that he was well aware of the forces which moved through the region. These suspicions were confirmed when a flurry of news greeted them in a letter signed by Baelish, leaving them as chilled as the snow that coated the ground.

Stannis was dead. His army was dead. Lord Bolton was dead. The bastard Bolton called himself Lord of Winterfell. The bastard Lord had married a girl said to be Sansa Stark. Sansa Stark had escaped the bastard, and was thought to be plotting the siege of her home.

Winterfell would need to be retaken swiftly, and the letter suggested that the Eyrie’s forces would be deployed only if called upon by Sansa. Without them, however, it was likely any attempt to fight the Bolton army -- bolstered by traitorous houses of the North -- would fail. The night after they’d received the letter, Margaery dreamed of red hair, and of a beautiful girl who seemed to carry with her all the sadness of the world. When she awoke, she demanded that they come to her aid.

“We do not know if Sansa Stark is alive,” Olenna had protested, exasperated at that point by their fruitless journey. “Look at the snow falling around us -- it is all the more likely she died out in that cold, hiding away from that little monster. That little slip of a thing could not survive this.”

“This is her home,” Margaery had protested, steadfast in her desire to journey on to Winterfell. “For all that she has survived already, she would have survived her own home. Grandmother, we cannot turn our backs on her.” Margaery’s expression had crumpled then, remembering how they had left her to be married to Tyrion when their own plot had fallen through. The youngest Lannister was far from a cruel man -- but it had been a mockery nonetheless, and Margaery knew Sansa had suffered for it. “What would we be, if we turned our backs now?”

They did not move from a small inn nearby Moat Cailin for nearly a month -- they would not go to Winterfell without their army in tow. During this time, Margaery and her Grandmother acclimated as best they could to the North. The bitter cold was not good for a woman of Olenna’s age, and Margaery sought to have her constantly cloaked in large furs that seemed to drown her. Margaery herself was swathed in them, and found that with each passing day her skin seemed to pale in the icy region. When she cast a glance at her reflection in a looking glass, she found that she did not recognize the girl who looked back. This was not the little queen of the Red Keep -- it was someone else entirely. It was someone she did not quite know yet.

When their army arrived, they moved at last for Winterfell. In the deep snow, they seemed to travel more slowly than ever before -- a journey meant to be 6 months had seemed to stretch to 8 or 9 by the time they’d closed in upon Torrhen’s square, just southwest of Winterfell. It was there that they received their last bit of news: the Bolton bastard was dead, and Winterfell had been retaken by House Stark -- led by none other than Jon Snow, Winterfell’s own bastard boy. In the wake of this battle, the Northerners had called out for Jon to take up a long-forgotten title: the King in the North.

When Margaery had heard this news, a shock of laughter had overtaken her. Olenna had turned, frustrated, and demanded she divulge what it was that amused her so.

“We journeyed all this way for a King,” Margaery exclaimed, her shoulders shaking with a kind of grim mirth, “ -- well, we’ve found one, haven’t we?”

To this point, Olenna joined in on this rueful, mourning laughter. It was a dark humor, twisted by months of strife and years of blood before it. It was the work of the Gods, Margaery knew, that they had someone still achieved the purpose of their journey.

When they arrived at last at Winterfell, they were met with an understandable opposition. House Tyrell, for all the North knew, were allies of the Lannisters. An envoy from their forces was sent to parlay with a soldier of Winterfell -- a massive man with fiery hair -- and communicate the message of House Tyrell’s break from House Lannister. When their man returned some time later, he was escorted by that same giant, who called himself Torrhen. She and Olenna had been permitted access into the castle, but their men would remain outside Winterfell’s protective walls.

They were escorted to a study within the family’s solar, and were told to wait -- they would be greeted by Sansa Stark, as she would be the only one among them to confirm their identity. Margaery stood uncomfortably in the room, facing away from the door. Olenna reclined in one of the seats beside her. When the heavy door opened, Margaery inhaled softly.

“We came to offer you aid in the retaking of your home,” Margaery spoke, her lips curving into a rueful smirk as the words left her lips. She dared not turn her head to greet her former friend, though she wished too desperately. “Too little and too late, as I can clearly see. Our help was hardly needed.”

#001 #i am sorry both for how long this took and how much dumb exposition is here #NO NEED TO MATCH LENGTH

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dfroza · 4 years

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count the stars...

as beautiful and mysterious as they are, innumerable. pointing to an eternal promise seen clear in secrets revealed, the True illumination of grace. this faith in Love that has become our treasured hope. and this is what we read in chapter #2 of an ancient Letter that is paired with a chapter in the book of Genesis for Today’s reading:

[Paul’s Reliance on Spiritual Power]

My brothers and sisters, when I first came to proclaim to you the secrets of God, I refused to come as an expert, trying to impress you with my eloquent speech and lofty wisdom. For while I was with you I was determined to be consumed with one topic—Jesus, the crucified Messiah. I stood before you feeling inadequate, filled with reverence for God, and trembling under the sense of the importance of my words. The message I preached and how I preached it was not an attempt to sway you with persuasive arguments but to prove to you the almighty power of God’s Holy Spirit. For God intended that your faith not be established on man’s wisdom but by trusting in his almighty power.

[Wisdom from God]

However, there is a wisdom that we continually speak of when we are among the spiritually mature. It’s wisdom that didn’t originate in this present age, nor did it come from the rulers of this age who are in the process of being dethroned. Instead, we continually speak of this wonderful wisdom that comes from God, hidden before now in a mystery. It is his secret plan, destined before the ages, to bring us into glory. None of the rulers of this present world order understood it, for if they had, they never would have crucified the Lord of shining glory. This is why the Scriptures say:

Things never discovered or heard of before,

things beyond our ability to imagine—

these are the many things God has in store

for all his lovers.

But God now unveils these profound realities to us by the Spirit. Yes, he has revealed to us his inmost heart and deepest mysteries through the Holy Spirit, who constantly explores all things. After all, who can really see into a person’s heart and know his hidden impulses except for that person’s spirit? So it is with God. His thoughts and secrets are only fully understood by his Spirit, the Spirit of God.

For we did not receive the spirit of this world system but the Spirit of God, so that we might come to understand and experience all that grace has lavished upon us. And we articulate these realities with the words imparted to us by the Spirit and not with the words taught by human wisdom. We join together Spirit-revealed truths with Spirit-revealed words. Someone living on an entirely human level rejects the revelations of God’s Spirit, for they make no sense to him. He can’t understand the revelations of the Spirit because they are only discovered by the illumination of the Spirit. Those who live in the Spirit are able to carefully evaluate all things, and they are subject to the scrutiny of no one but God. For

Who has ever intimately known the mind of the Lord Yahweh well enough to become his counselor?

Christ has, and we possess Christ’s perceptions.

The Letter of First Corinthians, Chapter 2 (The Passion Translation)

with verses 9-16 repeated in The Voice Translation:

But as the Scriptures say,

No eye has ever seen and no ear has ever heard

and it has never occurred to the human heart

All the things God prepared for those who love Him.

God has shown us these profound and startling realities through His Spirit. The Spirit searches all things, even the deep mysteries of God. Who can see into a man’s heart and know his thoughts? Only the spirit that dwells within the man. In the same way, the thoughts of God are known only by His Spirit. You must know that we have not received the spirit of this rebellious and broken world but the Spirit that comes from God, so that we may experience and comprehend the gifts that come from God. We do not speak of these gifts of God in words shaped by human wisdom; we speak in words crafted by the Spirit because our collective judgment on spiritual matters is accessible to those who have the Spirit. But a person who denies spiritual realities will not accept the things that come through the Spirit of God; they all sound like foolishness to him. He is incapable of grasping them because they are disseminated, discerned, and valued by the Spirit. A person who walks by the Spirit examines everything, sizing it up and seeking out truth. But no one is able to examine or size up that kind of spiritual person, for the Scripture asks, “Does anyone know the mind of the Lord well enough to become His advisor?” But we do possess the mind of the Anointed One.

•

and the importance of spiritual words in the truth of Love is of dear significance to the heart being sacred in True nature, just as seen in the Heart of God’s Temple with the treasured Ark of the Covenant that held the written words of the 10 commandments. and the Ark being made of gold-covered wood represents an act of grace on the cross that was made from a Tree, and the Lord who is called the Word of God is the treasure of eternal life that we seek. it is by the rebirth of the heart as a child of Light that we have become the living and breathing Temple holding the sacred treasure of the Spirit (inside, Anew)

and paired with chapter #2 of First Corinthians is chapter 15 of the book of Genesis where we see a promise God gives to Abram:

Some time passed. One day, the word of the Eternal One came to Abram through a vision—a kind of waking dream.

Eternal One: Do not be afraid, Abram. I am always your shield and protector. Your reward for loyalty and trust will be immense.

Abram: Eternal Lord, what could You possibly give to me that would make that much of a difference in my life? After all, I am still childless, and Eliezer of Damascus stands to inherit all I own. Since You have not given me the gift of children, my only heir will be one of the servants born in my household.

Immediately the word of the Eternal One came to him.

Eternal One: No, Abram, this man will not be your heir. No one but your very own child will be an heir for you.

God took him outside to show him something.

Eternal One: Look up at the stars, and try to count them all if you can. There are too many to count! Your descendants will be as many as the stars.

Abram believed God and trusted in His promises, so God counted it to his favor as righteousness.

Eternal One (to Abram): I am the Eternal One. Remember, I am the One who brought you from Ur of the Chaldeans in order to give you this land to possess and to pass on to your descendants.

Abram: But Eternal Lord, how am I supposed to know I really will possess it?

Eternal One: Bring to Me the following: a three-year-old cow, a three-year-old female goat, a three-year-old ram, a turtledove, and a young pigeon.

Abram brought God all of these animals and cut them in two, laying each half next to the other, making two rows. Only the birds were not cut in two. And when any birds of prey swooped down on the carcasses, Abram swatted them away.

As the sun was setting in the west, Abram fell into a deep sleep. A terrifying darkness descended upon him.

Eternal One (to Abram): I will tell you this on which you can stake your life: Your descendants will first be foreigners in a land that is not theirs. They will be made slaves there and will be oppressed for 400 years. But then I will judge the nation that enslaves them. When that time comes, your descendants will emerge from that land with many possessions. As for you, you will rest with your fathers in peace and be buried at a ripe old age. Not until the fourth generation will your descendants return here to possess the land, because the sin of the Amorite people has not yet reached its full measure.

When the sun had gone down and darkness had fallen, a smoking firepot and a flaming torch passed between the halves of the animal carcasses. With this ritual and on this day, the Eternal One made a covenant with Abram.

Eternal One: I make a solemn promise to give this land to your descendants—from the river of Egypt to the great Euphrates River, the land where the Kenites, the Kenizzites, the Kadmonites, the Hittites, the Perizzites, the Rephaim, the Amorites, the Canaanites, the Girgashites, and the Jebusites all live. All of this I will give to you.

The Book of Genesis, Chapter 15 (The Voice)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Tuesday, february 11 with a paired chapter from each Testament along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs

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lamanie-litera · 7 years

Text

Zeus and Hera and Lucinella and William

Hera is drinking her coffee upstairs on the veranda.

“Tell me a story,” I beg her. “How did you and Zeus meet?”

“We’re closely related, you remember,” says Hera. “For eons he chased me, and I ran, until he turned himself into a cuckoo, so wet and bedraggled I nestled him between my breasts. The wedding night,” says Hera, “lasted three hundred years.”

“William and young Lucinella come out on the front porch below us. I lean over the railing and watch William crush a leaf of lilac and hold his finger under young Lucinella’s nose. She draws her head back. They saunter together and disappear around the left corner of the house. “How does one handle jealousy?” I cry.

“Badly,” says Hera. “You know the story of Zeus and Semele, how I went to her disguised as a neighbor and whispered, ‘Next time tell him to show himself in his true nature or deny him your bed!’ Zeus, of course, came in thunder and lightning. That was the end of her. Poor Io! They thought it was Zeus who turned her into a cow and sent a gadfly after her, but it was me! And it wasn’t only jealousy,” says Hera. “Nobody knows that all the time I was watching my husband chasing every skirt and saw the skirts running, and knew he wasn’t going to make them except in some fool disguise, though everybody thinks it was to fool me.”

“Why did they run? I mean, I really like Zeus,” I say, and blush.

“I know you do,” says Hera and gives me that look I don’t understand. “Maybe,” she says, “he wasn’t all the prize you think.”

“Because of the skirts? All those nymphs and princesses?”

“All those princesses, and not only that,” says Hera. “It was the brutality, the cowardice.”

“Zeus’s cowardice?” I don’t like that. “Cowardice, yes,” she says. “You remember how his mother—Earth, you know—prophesied the child that Metis bore was going to dethrone him. Damned if Zeus, like his father and grandfather before him, doesn’t open up his mouth and with one gulp … and not the child only! Mother and all. So now he had to birth the baby. Have you ever been around a man who’s got a cold in the head? Imagine Zeus with Pallas Athene ready to spring from his brow! Then there was the time Typhon stormed Olympus when Zeus didn’t happen to have his thunder on him. What does he do but turn himself into a ram and skidaddle to save his own skin! When the monster made a pass at me, don’t you think Zeus strung me from the rafters of heavens with an anvil tied to each ankle—though he said it was in punishment for my rebellion. Ares had to come and get me down.” Hera sits very straight, chin high, still smoldering. She has forgotten not a tittle of her husband’s ancient offenses.

We are silent. “So why do we stick with them!” I say.

“Oh,” Hera says, “because one’s tied to them by one’s own possessiveness, by sex, I suppose. Not so much now any more, but I used, once in a while, to borrow Aphrodite’s girdle … And by pity.”

“Pity for Zeus?”

“Oh yes,” Hera says. “It’s watching the erosion of their powers that breaks the heart and grapples you to them even when they no longer want you. You’ve read your Aeschylus?”

“Well …” I say.

“Read it,” says Hera. “Read where the buccaneer god and philanderer has a stature second hardly to Jehovah, before Euripides began to psychologize and Plato turned us into literature. The Romans carved two frown lines between Zeus’s eyes, set his heads on prefabricated torsos, and disseminated him through the known world. In the Christian era, he had to go underground, and when he turns up again, he’s gone baroque, going rococo. By the eighteenth century what is he except a self-conscious grace note of erudition? Yesterday I saw him in company with Thor and Green Lantern, if you please—not all badly drawn—in a kiddie comic. Tomorrow he will find himself a minor character in some Tom, Dick, or Harry’s comical new novel. Desecrated, deposed, exiled, but incapable of dying, no longer god and unwilling—or is it unable?—to be human, what can he do but turn into an intellectual, write a book, research his own descent—heaven forgive me, maybe it’s an ascent—from a bearded snake to what? A refugee college professor!”

“Lucinella!”

It’s William calling me. “I’m coming!” I cry.

(...)

In the curl of the banister stands Zeus having a quiet smoke. The party has got too hot and noisy for him, he says.

“Me too,” I say. “I’m going up to bed.” I lift my cheek for a good-night kiss. His tongue thrusts straight and deep between my lips and the world suspends its rotation. His hand inside my blouse touches, his mouth lifts out of mine, pronounces my name as if it were a foreign language: “Lucinella.”

I’m looking into the same astonished roundness of eye that Europa saw the instant of her rape. Whether disguised as bull, or swan, or golden shower activity (as they call it on television—and which requires a great imaginative effort), or as my aging intellectual, your true lover has the grace to be dazzled by each new passion. His veteran confidence needs no double-entendre to make loopholes for a misunderstanding. He says, “Let’s make love.”

Now that I know Zeus and I are going to be lovers (and know it’s him I would have wanted all along if it had occurred to me), I freeze. I want my mother! “Let’s not!” I say.

“Let’s,” he says, waits. No rape, no suasion. There’s no need.

I say, “All right,” and his immense arms take me up and lift me through the front door down the steps.

“But you’re married,” I say, ashamed to be so vulgar, but I have been jealous. It is Hera who’s my sister. What does Zeus know!

“We won’t tell her,” he says, on the faintest rising pitch of irritation. “Hera and I’ve been married these eons and have eternity to go.” He carries me over the midnight fields, tree and stone, into his bed. And when the earth resumes its motion, the direction has been radically altered; I’ve slipped away and run back to New York. I’m not ready yet to meet him with my morning face.

At home his letter awaits me: a quick page of astonished jubilation, and what admirable prose! Happiness is its keynote.

Mine is bewilderment. I’d wanted to be virtuous—that’s the prettiest dream of all!—but now elation must learn to co-exist with my guilty treachery and it’s not hard—oh, shabby guilt. As for happiness, there’s a word! I smile and smile, but how shall I recognize what I can’t exactly remember ever meeting face to face before? And I don’t know the rules. Is it all right to dispatch my prickly perplexity into Arcadia? If I could only talk with him for half an hour, I’d understand everything, and so I write him what I never meant to say: Come!

He writes back to say he will be here at 8:15 but must leave by 7:20 the next morning. He arrives on the dot.

I doubt if I’d have given Zeus a second look in his heyday, when he was gaudy with health, his dark-blue locks, his bristling beard, eyes like oxidized copper sparking pink and gold and purple lights, and his enormous size. I prefer my gods in their twilight. I lean into the voluptuous laxness of elderly flesh. Under my hands, great Zeus lies patiently; he knows how to suffer pleasure. His divine cock has lost none of its potence and his hand is omniscient.

I used to laugh at gods and kings. I’d imagined Zeus muscle-bound, stupid with power, rattling his enormous thunder, unable to control the whims and spectacular tempers of his oversized relations, but in my bed his mind moves feelingly. It’s just that mine, being Jewish and from New York, leaps more nimbly, which he enjoys. I sense his smiling in the darkness. When I get silly he reaches out laughingly to fetch me home to good sense and we make love again, sleep awhile, and more love and more talking.

I ask Zeus to visit inside my head. (You are invited, too. In here he and I, and you, will get to know one another, though like every hostess I’m a little nervous. Notice how I elide my sentences and keep my book short. I’m watching for signs of a yawn burgeoning behind your compressed lips. You don’t want to hurt my feelings, I know, but feel free to leave any time. Though your departing back will make a permanent dent in my confidence, one survives. I prefer it to your sufferance behind my back.)

Morning. I am chilled by the expanse of air that separates me from Zeus. He’s sitting on the edge of my bed. Once he’s put his socks back on, there’s no seduction of mine that can keep him one minute after 7:20.

Lore Segal, Lucinella, 1976.

#Lore Segal #Lucinella #książka #książki #czytam #cytat #fragment #literatura #literatura amerykańska #zeus #hera #mitologia

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