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erazonpo3 · 3 years

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(This is a written collaboration between myself and Hemlock/pathygen in the ‘Cassandra’s Tangled Adventure’ AU verse, featuring our characters Alphecca and Violante. This was just a fun little back-and-forth with our two villains set in the period in which Violante has possession of Alphecca’s phylactery.

The formatting is based on our replies, it was really fun to get to write together and watch Violante flex on Alphecca. I’d recommend reading it on my blog’s desktop page for the formatting)

The Eagle and The Mole

Ever since her rebirth in flame and ash, Alphecca hasn’t known the icy grip of cold; yet Countess Violante’s chateau inspires it in her bones. It’s a monument of stone, glass, and drapery, and at this time of night the torchlight in the hallways are extinguished; malingerers are unwelcome. Even the ever-present ache in her chest takes its leave here, something she would have been thankful for if it weren’t Violante’s doing. Her soul burned like a dying star, but since her phylactery fell into Violante’s hands all she has known is its absence— numb apathy— the closest thing she knows to cold.

She’s sure to school her features before entering Violante’s parlour, smoothing out the notch between her eyebrows and the curl of her lips that may as well have been sculpted into her flesh these days. Trinket shrieks at her as she walks past, aggrieved that her delicious bones are today wrapped in the illusion of skin and, on top of that, a stupid uniform. It’s stiff and it pinches in ways she can’t feel but is nonetheless frustrated by, and whenever she catches her reflection in the silverware she can’t help but grimace at the militant emblems and pageantry she advertises. All that’s missing from her marionette costume is the strings.

The Countess is waiting for her as expected, perched perfectly poised on the gaudy piece of furniture she likes to pretend is a throne. She resists the urge to sneer at the pretentious display, if only because Violante would find it so amusing.

“I’m back,” she announces flatly, absently picking at the cuff of her jacket.

“Yes, I noticed.” Violante replies, crystal and calm as a winter morning.

The countess has a quill pinched between her fingers; sharp motions carry the crimson plume across the page laid out in front of her, scratching. The chamber swallows sound and bounces it back. Dim moonlight ekes through tall, arched windows of blue stained glass, and casts a watery pattern against the polished floor.

Violante does not look up at the dead woman.

A minute and a half passes before she finally caps the tiny, neat scrawl on the parchment with a looping signature, rolls it into a neat cylinder, and sets it aside. The feathered end of the quill finds its way between her lips, ponderously. She tilts her head up and her smile is delicate. There’s something of a spider in it.

“That certainly took you long enough. One little village could hardly have been all the effort.” The Countess of Solanales stands with a fluid motion, and folds her arms loosely across her chest. A cigarette smolders in it’s holder on the edge of the desk, filling the room with an oily, herbal smell. She inspects Alpchecca like one might a mannequin stuck in a display, lips pursed.

“Well, at least you kept everything in order this time. See? You can look nice. I knew the collar would be a nice touch. The color accents your eyes, now that you have them in.”

Trinket croaks from her perch. The monochrome vulture returns to preening, bored now that the arguably edible bits of the lich aren’t on display. Violante leans back against the edge of her gilded seat. “So how did it go? Did you make any friends?”

This time Alphecca doesn’t withhold the grimace that curls back her lip to expose a yellowed canine. She’s aware of the way the moonlight makes her pale skin seem especially waxy and sallow, which typically serves to unnerve humans- all save the Countess. Violante’s eyes glitter like a cut diamond as she appraises her, and Alphecca forces her gaze away in a show of deliberate disregard. She stares through the blue washed windowpane to speak to the waxing moon, but keeps an eye on Violante’s figure in her periphery.

“I was just being thorough, I’m sure you can appreciate that. No stone left unturned, no building left standing, everything razed just right, just for you,” she says, flashing Violante a quick, sardonic smirk before returning her gaze to the window. “I don’t imagine you’ll have much of a problem marching your people down there and claiming a new pile of dirt, or whatever it is you do with the ashes. There’s nothing left.”

The moon’s bright glow begins to burn a spot into her vision, but facing the window makes it easier for her to keep her face blank. Her excursion today would be considered a success by Violante’s standards, but she had been sure to cause enough of a racket as she tore through the streets that most villagers had ample time to flee before she tore into the place. If they couldn’t escape even after all the time she gave them, well, Cassandra can’t say she didn’t try.

Under the scrutiny she can’t help but scratch at the briarthorn collar, and she chances another glance back at Violante.

“Thoughtful. I can’t say I have much use for more dirt than I already seem to own, but,” Violante gestures and Trinket stretches her neck. The vulture flaps off the stand and onto the desk with a crooked hop, and remains still while the countess fastens the scroll to her leg. “I’m sure whoever is left will be happy to accept all the aid Solanales is willing to provide, in the wake of their unfortunate devastation.”

Eyes glittering, she crooks a gloved finger under the large bird’s beak and hums. “The world is lousy with monsters, after all.”

And in the end, it was only a barrier town. But every little bit counts, every scrap of seizure. Scraps still. But these were things that couldn’t be rushed. Or shouldn’t have been, if she had been able to stick to her original schedule. Plans were important, but the ability to adapt to a situation was worth even more. Put attention in the right places, stress on the right joints, poison in the right tea.

Or get creative, and toss a skeleton into a henhouse. Ho hum.

“Go on.” Violante says to the bird. Trinket makes a clicking noise low in her throat, and takes off without a backwards glance at Alphecca, winging towards some high and hidden exit. Violante watches her go in silence. She doesn’t expect it will take long for a response, in some capacity, but she doesn’t really plan to wait for one either. Aldara is out in the field somewhere, hopefully stalking her other quarry, but there’s a decent chance both situations will muddle together eventually.

“Now, what to do with you?” Violante turns back to face the dead woman, who looks hilariously unsure. It’s already late, and she needs to keep some space between the raids, as she creeps them closer to the borders of the Iron Kingdom.

Alphecca scowls at the vulture’s retreating form, however glad she’d normally be to see it leave. With Trinket gone, only the two of them remain. It didn’t exactly make for a good buffer, yet in the leering bird’s absence the room tightens with intimacy. Violante and intimacy are her two least favourite things, and combined they manifest as the bane of her existence. The only thing that can make it worse is Violante’s voyeuristic shadow who is thankfully out on her master’s orders tonight, likely committing her own fill of atrocities.

The Countess’ icy veneer betrays nothing of her intentions. In a game where information is everything, Alphecca knows she’s at a woeful disadvantage. If she tries fishing, Violante will know what she’s doing the minute she speaks, no matter how vague or disinterested she comes across— but she might be indulged. It begs the question of whether it’s better to stumble around blindly or sniff out a trail she can’t trust. Either way, she needs to say something- the longer she concedes to silence, the further the scales tip in Violante’s favour.

“How about giving these old bones a rest? You’ll find a siesta does wonderful things for the constitution,” she quips. “I’m assuming you don’t want to cause too much of a stir, anyhow,” she adds, unable to deny the temptation of the gamble. Now she forces herself to keep her eyes trained on the Countess, and settles into a smirk.

“You’re dead, you don’t have a constitution,” Violante drawls.

She glances away towards the window, the picture of disinterest, thinking. Ghostly evening light blankets the room, and flows over the silent collection of statues and armor bordering the walls, the curtained archways. Rooting out the location of the lich’s phylactery had been more of an effort of time and money than anything else. She had a number of contacts stretched over the continent, from tomb takers to Morcant to disgruntled former servants who had once swept the halls of the Spire. The crumbling little ruin of a shrine had seemed like a forgotten afterthought, nestled on the edge of an icy valley north of Ingvarr. The pendant had been wrapped in hay and rue. The plain little goat skull carved into the stone that boxed it had worn smooth with time. It was imagery that had become much more frequent among the information she lately received. So many old stories seemed to be pulling themselves up out of the grave these days. Even keeping the new ones in the ground was proving to be a challenge.

No one died like they used to. The lich had certainly been involved in that most recent of frustrations.

Although, maybe, her decision to poison Cassandra had been a little hasty. She had maybe been a little angry. A little perturbed. Corpses and memories were generally less useful than breathing attendants, even if they were less trouble. People were so stubborn. Still, even there the lich might prove..useful. If that was the way things shook out in the end.

“Besides, we both know rest isn’t really in your cards.” The countess says, stepping down away from the desk, towards Alphecca. Reaching up, she adjusts the collar the lich keeps fiddling with, smooths down the epaulettes on her shoulders. The illusion of flesh truly was impressive. Almost as much as the facade of confidence. “You know, I once heard that a long life eventually deprives you of optimism. They also say that time heals all wounds. People never seem to be able to make up their minds about just how sad they think they’re supposed to be.”

Alphecca wraps her grimace up into a wry grin, though the fury in her eyes burns a palpable heat in the gelid room. Violante ignores said look as she smooths out the creases in her uniform, abusing all sentiment of personal space. The woman isn’t physically intimidating in the slightest; even wearing stilettos Alphecca has to look down her nose at her. But the proximity is unnerving. If her physical body is merely an extension of her soul, then Violante owns both, and she isn’t shy about making it known— so Alphecca does her best to ignore it, training her eyes on the wall in front of her instead of the head of perfectly coiffed curls only a breath away and the nails that cross her clavicle to smooth over her shoulders.

“In my experience, more time is just an avenue for more procrastination,” she admits. It’s the truth, or at least it’s her truth, and there’s no harm in admitting it- the information has no value to Violante. If the Countess got her claws on immortality, the last thing anyone should be concerned with is if she were happy or sad.

“People also say that destroying people’s lives and livelihoods won’t make you happy, but we both know that’s not true,” she adds. She hasn’t actually heard anyone say that, but it’s one of those unspoken things- and it’s wrong. Schadenfreude and victory are one hell of a cocktail.

“A common adage, is that?” Violante hums, stepping back. “Stagnation is hideous. And regret is a waste of energy. If you’ve really wasted all this time waiting for a death that’s never going to come, then it’s fortunate I came along to make better use of your… afterlife.” She tilts her head. “Especially considering that I found you rooting around in a cave, talking to bones. I can’t imagine skeletons make for very good conversation.”

For once, Alphecca isn’t bothered by the barb. She wastes her time however she pleases, spending her years harassing new villages until she gets bored and moves on, or searching for new fossils to reanimate, playing in the dirt. She knows she’s a disappointment but that’s how she’s come to like it— fuelled by the spite of those more ambitious than her who have to watch her gnaw on the unending life they can’t have. That is, until Violante took it from her.

With more distance between them now, Alphecca releases a breath; it’s unnecessary, but calming all the same.

“They make better company than your pets, at least,” she says. They don’t talk back, for one thing, but she’ll keep that part to herself. All the bones she finds have very interesting stories to tell, but unfortunately Violante’s dreadful companions only find them useful for teething.

“Tsk. Oh, kettle.” Violante says, sotto voce. She has very little interest in making any argument about the quality of company Aldara or anyone else brings to her circle. She doesn’t keep them around for their people skills. Mostly. The countess reaches out to tap the bottom of her jaw. “You’re so uncertain for a corpse. You chatter so much for a tool. But if that’s the way you feel…” A thoughtful pause, wintry silence. Violante steps past her, the dark pool of her gown trailing on the floor. “Come.”

“What, you’re not a fan of our stimulating discussions?” Alphecca jeers, cocking her head. Blunt as they are, words are the last weapons she has in this fight, but she turns to follow her nonetheless. She kicks her feet up off the ground to hang a foot in the air to let the click of Violante’s heels echo down the hollow hallways alone, creeping behind her like a spectre.

She’s hesitates, trailing behind at a healthy distance, but she can’t deny her curiosity is piqued.

“I think your talents lie elsewhere.” Violante answers without turning around, wry. The castle is large and cold and strikingly empty of people. There are servants, courtiers, of course, but this late at night the work has gone to ground. Most of them, having been around this long, have learned to work out of sight, or in silence. Violante lifts a low burning candelabra from a table in the tapestried hall, wax dripping into the filagree crevices that tomorrow will be picked clean again before she wakes. The halls stretch on, half covered portraits lining the walls, tall arched windows that continue to leak in cool evening light. Violante takes them down, towards the ground floor, and eventually comes to rest in front of a heavy, ornate door set back far from the main vestibule.

“Wait here.” she commands, and without stopping, the countess takes off down another hall and vanishes around the corner. She returns about ten minutes later, unchanged and smiling. In her hand is a small pouch, dangling with a loop of cord that she drapes around her neck. She nods at the door. “Shall we?”

Alphecca lingers back as she follows Violante through the chateau. She’s no stranger to silence, and she can even appreciate the servants’ scarce presence; humans can be such annoying creatures. However, there’s a hostility that comes with the quiet— an unspoken threat that has butlers and maids scurrying away like rats in the corner of her eye, only daring to move when the Countess strides past.

She halts when instructed, taking the time to inspect the portraits of Violante’s ancestors while she waits. The dim light is no obstacle as she takes in the details, sneering at the pompous Lords and Ladies that line the walls. The different fashion styles over the centuries blend together in her mind, but she recognises the distinct ruffles that predate the Shampanier Era crossing over to the more modern style of headdress, evolving across the row of portraits. They have matching brutal, patrician features and cold eyes, and their arrogance is palpable even through the oils. She wonders if Violante sees them as an inspiration or an embarrassment.

Alphecca drops to her feet when Violante arrives, eyeing the new fashion accessory.

“Ladies first,” she gestures in a parody of an usher, trying to avoid the sense of dread that accompanies the sight of the heavy wooden door.

“True.” Violante says agreeably, placing her gloved hand on the door. In the other she still clutches the flickering candelabra, and the light plays shadows against its surface. The front of it is carved with vines and flowers, mountains and snowflakes. It opens with a heavy grinding sound when she tries the handles, with some effort. Cobwebs stick and pull between the gap, and Violante sneers a little at the dust that collects on her fingertips. A staircase leads down into darkness. It reeks of earth, dry and undisturbed.

Violante’s face remains impassive as she starts down the steps, the click of her heels ringing against the stone. The walls are featureless rock, and roots start to press through the gaps the farther down they travel. Eventually the stairs level out onto a narrow, dark, landing. Violante moves with a caution in the dark that relaxes when she finds the torches set into thick pillars that frame the entrance, and she lights them with the candle flame. Orange light fills the cavern.

“Homey, I imagine.” she says. “But still better than what you were used to.”

It is a tomb, of course. More a mausoleum, seemingly built into the naturally limestone cavern underneath the castle. The roof of the crypt rises up high above the chamber, arched ribs and all angles like the inside of a cathedral. Violante doesn’t pause in her intrusion, gliding down the center aisle with a curious fervor, idly stroking the covered parcel around her neck. She finally stops as they near the back of the chamber, in front of a stone dais that elevates two, long, solid coffins. Side by side, in their lofty place of honor. Violante sets the candles down. She looks back at the lich.

She says, “You’re going to wake them up.”

Violante isn’t wrong to assume that the cavernous underbelly of the castle is more comforting to Alphecca than the bleak architecture and furnishing upstairs, but it’s still far from homely. The crypt is stale and azoic, lacking the warm smell of rot and soil that accompanies her usual hovels. Nonetheless she does feel more at ease here, and it takes the tension out of her shoulders.

“Is this mum and dad? I didn’t really take you for the mournful orphan type,” Alphecca says, her smirk eking into her voice. She approaches the left coffin and slides a hand over the lacquered wood, which is stained with black and ornately carved. The golden filigree is finely engraved and the craftsmanship of the coffin itself is masterful. A thrill runs through her bones; as disinterested as she is in the coffin’s inhabitants, she’s eager to see what bijous and tchotchkes she’ll find inside.

It takes her mind off of Violante’s request. Resurrecting one body, one soul, takes more effort than she is usually willing to expend. Two isn’t out of the question, but it’s going to take time. There are shortcuts she could take-

No. She’ll take all the time she needs.

“I can do it for you, but it’s not going to be quick or easy. I’m assuming you want more than just a couple of braindead puppets, after all,” Alphecca states, glancing carefully at Violante.

Violante watches the dead mingle, the old and the ancient. There’s a stone bench opposite the dais, maybe long ago a place meant for prayer or meeting. The back of it curves up into a chiseled swan’s head, with the beak broken off. She sits, and crosses her legs, eyes lidded, observing Alphecca as she circles the caskets. The lich’s interest is evident, undisguised. She’s being so nice.

“Mmm.” she confirms, very calm. “Lady Fiore and Count Viator. I poisoned them when I was seventeen.”

She draws a finger across the jagged beak of the swan and rubs the grit between her thumb and forefinger. The black fabric of her gloves are already powdered with dust. Idly, she pinches one finger and slips it the long glove off, stretching her hand in the cool, dry air of the crypt. The tips of her fingers are stained purplish-black, even deep under her nails.

“They need to be able to speak, and answer questions truthfully. I’m not especially worried about mobility, but memory is important.” She tilts her head, dark eyes focused on the bone witch. “How long? Describe the process for me.”

Alphecca’s lips twist as Violante confesses to her parents’ murder, but continues to investigate the coffins.

“Well, the process involves bartering with Death, binding the soul to an anchor and then binding said anchor to your will- it’s something that can take months, depending on how long it takes to get the reagents, and that’s just for one soul. Doubling up will save time, but even you don’t have infinite resources,” she explains.

Without asking Alphecca lifts the nearest coffin lid, and lets out an involuntary whoop at the burst of pungent aroma. There’s not much left of the carcass itself, despite what she’s sure was a vigorous embalming. Corpses are meant to return to the earth, and the ones buried above ground have a messier time of trying to find it. Lady Fiore’s robes are completely soiled with corpse juice, but she’s surrounded by a few glinting baubles that could still be disinfected- although she’s sure Violante won’t let her play with them.

“A fresh corpse is always easier to work with, but it’s just as well you kept the remains at all- souls will anchor to their own bodies with less of a fuss,” she says, disregarding all the loopholes that come to mind. With a snap of her fingers Fiore’s bones glow a pale blue, battling the orange torchlight for a moment before it subsides. It’s a basic preservation spell that she uses on all her creatures to protect their bones from the elements, which she hopes Violante will take as a sign of her veracity.

“You’ll find my resources will more than suffice.” Violanate says. “Considering the state of your previous arrangement, and what you’re used to.” Scrounging around in the shadows and the muck couldn’t have been all that profitable for the lich. Procuring things, especially things of an elusive nature, is not usually a problem for her.

The stench that emanates from her mother’s coffin is certainly vile enough. Violante’s nose wrinkles, and she nearly rolls her eyes at the bone witch’s obvious enthusiasm for it. For a moment she has to tilt her head to the side, and she brings the pouch around her neck closer to her face. There’s baby’s breath and rosemary inside: a good dampener, or so she’s been told. The Countess is not unfamiliar with corpses, but they’re usually less decayed, and less in her face. She could have used a stronger perfume.

“Useful little spell.” She says, turning back to face the dais.

And then, “..bartering with death.” Violante drawls, stretching the words out slowly. That has her curiosity piqued. Something about it, a string to tug. “Like it’s a person.”

Alphecca hums absently, neither in agreement or disagreement.

“I suppose we’ll see,” she says. She swipes a thumb over Lady Fiore’s cheekbone, imagining how the muscle would have wrapped across it and how the skin might have sat on top. Her sharp jawline mirrors Violante’s, and she’s willing to bet they shared the same nose. She was no doubt a very attractive woman in her prime, and Alphecca finds herself almost frustrated that she’ll be deliberately prolonging the reconstruction process.

She crosses over to the coffin on the left but her fingers tapdance across the lid, and her head perks up at the mention of Death.

“Well, yeah- okay, she’s not really a person, but she’s the shepherd between this realm and the realm where lost souls are... supposed to go, and you’re not going to get a soul back from the realm of the dead without her noticing,” she explains, smiling at the memory of the spectre. Absently she traces shapes in the dust of the coffin lid as she continues.

“It’s far simpler to make a trade with her than to try and steal one, but that’s still easier said than done.”

Having to watch the lich inspect and handle her parents' remains doesn’t seem to phase the Countess very much. Legs crossed, she sits back on the mourning bench, and rests her chin on the back of her fingers.

“‘She’. You make a trade with death.” Violante repeats, not a question. “What could..death-the-entity possibly want in exchange for a soul?”

There’s a visible sneer on her face at the word soul. It’s not that she doesn’t believe in spectres or spirits: she’s essentially speaking to one, even if it’s trapped in a bone. The concept of anything trying to tell her what to do, even after death, dissatisfies. Even at a young age, playing with her first herbs and poisons and staining her skin, Violante knew that she wasn’t going to go until she was good and ready.

She can guess what the lich might think of her. The many things, every terrible notion. Most she’s probably right about. But Violante has no interest in living forever. Cavorting around for centuries as a moldering corpse isn’t an appealing notion, and it obviously hasn’t done the witch any favours. No. She is going to build something great. Something right, something hers.

In the end, if it is really worthy, it will outlast her.

And if it’s not...well.

Violante hums, “Longing for death is a bit of a cliche, even for you.”

“Depends,” Alphecca shrugs. “Sometimes she asks for help wrangling the ghosts that refuse to let go, or she has a specific soul in mind, or sometimes she just wants a favour to keep in her pocket. There’s always some kind of catch though, because she’s hardly going to ask for something she can get herself.”

Even if she weren’t already planning on delaying the process, she anticipates bargaining for two souls will be the most difficult part. Bartering with Death isn’t exactly something she makes a habit of; she can count on one hand the amount of times she’s made the deal, and every time had brought its own headache. Just the memory of it is enough to make her head hurt, so she turns her attention back to Violante.

“Yeah, well. Even you’d be begging her to come take you after long enough. You and I both know Death can be a mercy,” she says with a smirk, and cracks open dear father’s casket.

Help, promises, wayward souls. “That’s a lot out of death’s reach.” More than one would think, for such a definite force. Violante listens to the dead woman without looking up, thinking, rubbing the pad of her thumb across the velvet pouch dangling from her neck. There is another wave of foul scent, all earth and rot. The sound of heavy stone dragging on stone. Her father had been a count of some notable prowess. He had been good at getting people to listen, and always spoke with confidence. Curt at times, but he shared a warmth with her mother that would have seemed anathema to the traditional Solanales chill, to anyone outside of their family. They were a private people. Violante had loved her parents. She had loved them even when she was putting them in the ground.

“Who said anything about mercy?” The countess murmurs, tilting her head, a silver-dark curl of hair sliding over one side of her face. Wintry, she says, “How long is this going to take you? Approximately, for one body?”

Alphecca rakes a finger down Count Viator’s sternum, making a mental note of his measurements. She’s sure there’s a portrait somewhere in the castle she can look to as a reference for their bodies, which are clearly tall but perhaps wider than their frames let on. Violante’s voice echoes in the cavernous room, yet the words themselves float around in the air. There’s a few trinkets scattered in the coffin, rings and jewels and heirlooms; they’re gaudy and expensive, but far from valuable to the dead. The sudden change in the intonation of Violante’s voice catches her attention, and she only catches the tail end of her question.

“Hm? Oh- well, for one? It’d normally take around a month or so to source all the reagents- meat, ivory, rare herbs and spices and whathaveyou- then somewhere between one to two weeks to build the body itself. After that it really depends on what I need to do to recover the soul,” Alphecca explains, finally dragging her eyes away from the remains.

“And of course, I wouldn’t want to rush perfection.”

“How thoughtful,” Violante drawls. “But they don’t need to be perfect, just functional. Enough to answer what I want to ask of them. You fare well enough without lungs. Or gray matter.” The countess tilts her head again. “They’re going right back in the ground after I’m finished with them.”

Pushing away from the bench, Violante stands with fluid, gossamer grace. Holding one arm loosely tucked around her waist, she climbs the steps and despite the reek, peers slowly into each of the caskets, expression unreadable. Swipes one stained fingers against the dust collected on the stone lip, rubbing.

Almost conversationally, she looks back and says, “Tell me what you need, and you’ll have it within a week. If not sooner. We have the merits of civilization here.” With a surprising amount of ease, Violante leans back against her mother’s grave and lifts herself into a sitting position on the skewed cover, ankles crossed. She smiles, her mouth a sharp, dark slash. “Three weeks, I think, is more than enough time for you to finish the work.”

Very slowly, she lifts the velvet pouch and threads it open. The amulet is heavy, and Violante curls it’s chain delicately around her fingers, thumb hooked under one of the horns. Scarlet light suffuses her from below.

Coy, Violante hums, “If you put your mind to it.”

Alphecca scowls at Count Viator, cursing him for ever procreating.

“If you want a botched job, then fine,” she sneers, bristling at the intrusion on her oasis. The presence of the phylactery is like a sneeze sitting at the back of her nose, painless and yet impossible to ignore. However, the Countess has extended her a favour in the same token, providing her the irritation necessary to redirect her attention elsewhere.

“The souls of the dead don’t tend to like being torn from their peace and shoved back inside their corpses, and the further the vessel is from their actual flesh and blood, the harder it is to attach them. And if a soul doesn’t attach properly, then you’re going to have a very uncooperative, likely half-braindead, pale imitation of your dearly departed loved one. So it’s your call,” Alphecca explains, drumming her fingers on the coffin lid.

It’s a gambit for more time, but the phenomenon of corrupted souls isn’t unheard of. And it’s not exactly something she’s keen on dealing with.

And then there was silence. It was followed by the shrill whistle of a lofty wind, swiftly swallowed by the cavern, sucked down. Above, a jagged crack in the apex of the cave opened up to mountain air and evening sky. Snow-melt had formed thin icicles which dripped with languid precision onto the old stone. There were some places within the cavern where if you listened close enough you could hear the sounds of running water; more runoff that was kept flowing by the warm channels that ran all underneath Solanales. The recessed thermal rivers: mineral rich, were responsible for the health and diversity of the medicinal herbs the county was able to cultivate. Her father had shown her maps, long ago.

Violante regards the lich cooly. The sneer; the constant flow of excuses, the obstinance. There is a moment before she speaks, where the slick consideration in her dark eyes slides towards bored. Just as quickly, the flat stare is replaced with a knifelike flash of malice, penetrative and acute—then a return to hawkish study.

“You’re right,” The countess says smoothly, examining the blemished fingers of her free hand, “it is my call.” She tilts her head, and wrly continues, “..and if I cared about what they liked, I wouldn’t have killed them in the first place.”

The glow from the amulet gives her skin a rosy tincture it doesn’t usually possess. Violante places her empty hand back on the coffin lid behind her, relaxing back into a lounge.

“Alphecca…” her voice is deadly soft. She rarely uses the corpse’s name. She’s never seen much point. The countess peers down at the phylactery, slim fingers curled under the horns and through the chains.

“You know, this really was remarkably easy to find. Time; a few simple exchanges of gold, a barter with a like-minded contact—who will no doubt realise, eventually, the true cost of that information, and likewise, the great loss she would accrue attempting to take it back.”

Calm, easy, her posture is that of a woman relaxing in a parlor; not an arm's reach away from her mother’s seeping skeleton. Violante runs her thumb up the side of the crystal. It’s warm, with a steady, pulse-like thrum.

“That is a part of what it means to have dominion—to have dominance. Laying the foundation. Control over people and their emotions, so that they don’t go spinning them out into actions they haven’t thought over properly. Something always there, in the back of their minds.”

With a sly smile, Violante tilts the amulet. “Like this.” Her fingers tighten, squeeze around the pulse.

“Come here.” she commands.

The Countess’ silence brings the familiar weight of dread, the coils of her contemplation winding and tensing before their inevitable release. The use of her name, soft as it is, is like the snap of a twig; the arrow is coming next, but she has nowhere to run. When Violante speaks, her words are dripping with nightshade, and Alphecca pays less attention to the words as she does those eyes and the way they peel back the illusion of her flesh. How long ago was it that Zhan Tiri had stood in her place, holding the phylactery that they’d created together, swinging it before her like an aberrant hypnotist? The image lingers in her mind, branded into her being, and it burns again now. Violante holds her ransom with equal avarice and even more capriciousness.

She doesn’t fight the command.

One foot drags after the other, pulling her away from Viator’s putrid remains towards his fetid offspring. The ends of her hair dance in the waves of heat that surge from her body, casting her pallid skin in the same glow mirrored in her bottled soul, and her sclera seeps with augural ink. She looks down her nose at the Countess, but stays mute; her glare speaks for itself.

“Oh, that face again,” Violante smiles slyly as the lich draws near. “You looked at me like that the last time you tried to get me to break this. For all that trite dribble about souls, they pack rather nicely into tight spots, hm?” She lifts the phylactery and lets it dangle from her fingers again. The carved crystal twists, shedding ruby light.

Tilting her head, the countess adds, “..though honestly the sheep-theme is a little provincial for my taste.”

From her perch on the coffin lid, she and the lich are almost at eye level. Idly, she taps the curled horns of the amulet against her lips, and takes a moment to inspect the flickering hair, warmed by the unnatural heat in the cold center of the crypt. She’s seen the witch dressed in bone before, skeletal, human then very much not. She hasn’t yet been able to divine whether the flesh is an illusion, or a simulacrum.

“...you know, it’s almost funny,” she says after another moment, musing. Gently, Violante reaches up to take Alphecca’s chin between her fingers, feeling for bone or for the presence of a seam. Without much force, she tilts her face left, then right. “The creature that made you this way got to die before you, didn’t it? Whether it wanted to or not. And even though it’s gone, you’re still here. That’s an impressive act of malice I’m not even sure I could aspire to.”

She brushes a strand of winding hair behind the dead woman’s ear, the fingers of her other hand wrapped around the amulet. They rest there, lingering.

“Mercy,” she hums, “Death. Do you really think that force regards you as anything more than a vague afterthought? Do you know why?”

Close, her eyes are dark and flat. When she smirks, her lips part, and there’s something of a serpent in it. The fingers set behind the corpse's ear hook suddenly, sharply. “It’s because you’re a commodity.” Softly, “A body. It was a waste having you be as you were before: running loose, childish and deranged. Whatever worth you had was decided on ages ago by something greater, and then discarded in one instant, only to be defined again, now, by me. That’s the only thing that matters here.”

Drawing her hand back, Violante twines another piece of fiery hair around her stained, lacy fingers. The amulet beats a rhythm against her palm. “Like that little village you destroyed. Garbage, right? But now, it’ll be built up again into something useful—desirable. Not only as a consequence of my birthright, but because I have the power to make that happen, and the will to speak through it. Because that’s the zeal the world recognizes. In the end, it doesn’t matter who you are or who you’re trying to be. Whether you’re a shambling monster… or a wayward sword, I’ll use the power I have; my proof of conquest, to assert my will—” a rough tug on the strand of hair, closer “—and change the meaning of value.”

Silence, and the drip of distant water. Violante lets the strand slide free from her hair, and inspects her hand with distant disinterest.

“Three weeks,” she says cooly. The phylactery thrums in her grip. “Don’t ever try to argue with me again.”

Alphecca’s phantom heart thumps in her hollow chest. Words intended to cut to the quick come close to their mark, but nothing Violante says can slice deeper than the futility of her situation. She can’t remember needing to gasp for air like this, not for a long time. And yet for all her vast networks of contacts and flies on the walls, Violante doesn’t know everything. She clutches that thought like a final matchstick in the dark, for all its limited warmth. The Countess doesn’t know Death; not like she does. And she’ll get those souls that she wants, and she’ll do her finest job— but Violante’s not the only one that has strings worth pulling.

For as tainted as Violante’s hands are, they’re still warm. Blood pulses right to the tips of her fingers and beats against her false skin, and she feels its absence when her hand draws away. Alphecca responds with a cock of the head, and a sneer.

“I’d better get going, then.”

#cta au #alphecca #violante #my art #my writing #and also hemlock's but that's just my fic tag

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whyiask · 3 years

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HAPPY NEW YEAR

There are so many people I’ve met on this site, so many friends I’ve made. I joined tumblr only a few months ago, but my life has already drastically improved. I smile more and laugh more and I feel happier all the time, knowing that you all are just a click away. I’ve often heard people refer to tumblr as a hellsite, but I don’t fully agree with that. True, some things on here are crazy, but more than that, I’ve found people like me. I’ve found people who understand me, who think like me and feel like I do. Ya know, before I joined tumblr, I had never met another bisexual person(crazy, right?). Y’all have made life more enjoyable and happier and brighter, and for that, I’ll never be able to thank you enough.

I have soooo many people I have to thank, so I’ll try to keep the list of people as short as possible: all my closest friends and all the people who have been amazing and I have loved seeing since I joined tumblr earlier this year <33

@one-neat-nerd you were the first blog to ever follow me, and I don’t remember if you were the first blog I followed, but you definitely were in the first 10. You were a wonderful introduction to tumblr, and I love everything you post/reblog. We’ve never really talked, but I still want you to know that I appreciate you.

@warblerjeff you’ve changed your url more than 3 times since I first followed you, and it always takes me a second to recognize you aha! But when I do, I’m immediately have a rush of happy memories- all your Glee posts and all of the Glee content I get from you. We’ve never really talked, but seeing you on my dash is always so amazing.

@jesussavedevenme aha hi! We’ve never really talked, but you were one of the first few blogs I followed when I first joined tumblr, and I know I tagged you in a lot of stuff at first (because i didn’t have any other friends lmao), so sorry about that! 😅 You’re really cool and I hope you have an amazing 2021.

@strawberry-seraph we haven’t talked in a while, sorry about that! Talking with you is always super fun, you’re a fun person and I hope your having a great day! You were one of the first TLC blogs I followed and you were definitely the first actual friend I had on tumblr. Thanks for being so nice to me <33

@cerenoya Ceren... where to begin. We haven’t talked a whole lot, but you are such an amazing friend and super kind when we do! You were my first tumblr idol for so long, because I aspired to be like you/run a blog as cool as yours!! Have a great 2021, you deserve it.

@cindersnightmare I felt very distant from you when I first followed you. You were just so COOL and your artwork was so GOOD, I didn’t know how to approach or even begin to express my love for your work. When you followed me back, I tell you, I was s h o o k. We’ve never talked, but I consider you a friend, is that okay? You’re amazing, keep being amazing <33

@books-and-starss oh gosh- I don’t even know where to begin with you! I love you so much, first of all!! So, so much. I love talking with you, you’re really sweet and ahhhh your writing is SO GOOD!!!! You are a great beta reader and so eager to help me- it just warms my heart that you would offer up your time to help me. Everything you reblog is so positive and encouraging and awesome, it’s so nice to see that kind of stuff on my dash. All the aesthetic pictures you reblog are super cool and pleasing to look at. I absolutely ADORE seeing you on my dash every day. <33333

@dylxn-lee aha hello there!! I first met you because you were one of Abi’s friends, but now I’m in your fanclub and ilysm. You’re really cool and nice and deserve to have a wonderful year <333

@theaberrantone ahaha for so long I pronounced your name wrong in my head- I just want you to know... I see you. I see you every day, liking every single one of my posts. I see you in my notifs many times a day and I just- wow. It means so much to me, I am honestly so touched that someone as cool as you takes the time to scroll through my mess of a blog and like the things I slap into it. You’re amazing and someday I aspire to be as cool as you <333333

@mochiowo-20 hi there :333 ilysm, and we haven’t talked for a few weeks, and I haven’t gone through your blog in a while, but I STILL LOVE YOU SO MUCH. You are amazing and ily. Your so sweet and cool and ahhhh you deserve to have the most wonderful 2021 ever. (i love your blog aesthetic btw) <333

@teawithhoneyharper I know you’re taking a break from tumblr for a while, but if you do see this, then I want you to know that I care about you so much. I love you Darcy, and you are amazing. I hope your mental health is getting better and I hope life has been better to you <33 ilysm, take care of yourself, and have a wonderful new year <333

@fablehavenfandom hi there friend!! Your posts are amazing!! I love your writing so much!!! and all your headcanons are beautiful and I 100% think of them as canon now. I hope you’re having a great day, and I hope you have a great year <33

@fairiesandstarlight omG your posts are all so cool! You’ve got a beautiful blog aesthetic and I love everything you post!! I hope you’re having a wonderful new year love <333 wishing you the best

@maya-livingstone hi there!! you’re a very, very new mutual, but I hope we’ll be able to get to know each other and become friends over the course of this new year!! I also just got the Renegades series, and I’ve noticed you like that, so hopefully we’ll be able to talk about that soon!!

@pluckycluckyducky hi plucky!! It’s Joy from the nevermoor server. we haven’t interacted on here very much, but you’re really cool and you should know it. have a wonderful 2021 <33

@fablehavenandfandomsfanatic hi there!! you had to break for a while, but you’re back now and I love all of the things you post! Have a great year <3

@fablehavenfangirl you’re really cool! Everything you post/reblog is great and I enjoy just scrolling through your blog when I’m bored. You’re amazing, keep being amazing <3

@renegadenebulahufflepuff heyyyy! how are you doing? you’re amazing, we haven’t talked much but you’re really cool and I am wishing you only the best for 2021 <333

@bookishfangirl14 hey there!! I love seeing you in my notifs!! we don’t have very many overlapping fandoms at the moment, but you’re still really cool and I love looking at your blog (even if i don’t understand most of the posts). aha, i hope you have a wonderful new year <33

@introvertedtater-tot hii! we don’t talk much, despite having a LOT of overlapping fandoms, and I don’t know why. Let’s fix that this year, shall we? I hope I can get to know you more, you’re amazing and sweet and i hope we can build up a solid friendship in the coming months <33

@devils-on-a-stereo oh my GOD. Okay, honestly? I am still s h o o k that you actually follow me, I mean, c’mon. Your art is literally the coolest thing ever, and I am honored to know you. You deserve way more attention as an artist than you have, and honest to god you are the coolest most i c o n i c blog I know. Stay awesome ;)

@its-liiinh-cinder-official heyyy there!! You are literally a top-notch comedian, I aDORE all of your ‘linh cinder’s random posts’. They are hilarious and your stories are hilarious, and you seem like such an amazing and chaotic person. I wish i knew you in real life, you would be so fun to hang out with. i love seeing you on my dash every day, and you’ve got such a v i b e going on. Have a beautiful, wondrous, and magical 2021 darling <333333

@just-another-freaking-dreamer it’s so awesome to see you in my notifs all the time. You’re really cool and you deserve cool things. Have a wonderful new year and I hope we can become better friends and interact more <3

@ragingbisexualcore ahhaahah you are the single most chaotic person I know. If you lived in a book, you would FOR SURE be that one character who is dead set on overthrowing the government and cackling madly as you take over the world. You are amazing and I hope you take your chaotic self and go wild in 2021.

@queenofsassgard hey there!! I hope you know that occasionally I just go scrolling through your archives and liking everything- anyways, you’re amazing and I hope you have a wonderful new year!

@elysian-starbucks-frappe heyo! what’s up? I hope you’re doing great, you deserve to do great. You’re super cool and amazing and ahhhhh you just deserve to have a wonderful 2021. ily and have a great year <33

@as-the-stars-foretold Caelum. You. Are. Fantabulous. You are my mother, you adopted me into this weird, chaotic friend group, and I will be eternally grateful. You love the stars and I love listening to you ramble about them in the server. You’re so passionate and strong and I love that about you. Life wouldn’t be the same without you. You might love stars, but you yourself ARE a star. You are a star, you shine brilliantly, and you are too good for this galaxy. We don’t deserve you. I love you so much, and you deserve every single goddamb good thing in this universe. You’re always there, ever present, and I love you so. much. Please stay your fantabulous self and I wishing on every star I see that you will have the best 2021 ever <333333

@carolinelikesdinner Carol. God, I have so much to say to you. First of all, thank you. Thank you so much for being you. You first introduced me into the big wide world of the Fablehaven fandom, and ilysm. You’re so cool, too cool for me, and I treasure every single conversation I have with you. You’re so funny and an amazing artist. All of your art is SO DAMB SPECTACULAR. You are gorgeous, your art is gorgeous, and your writing is gorgeous too. Take care of yourself love, stay safe, and have the best 2021 you possibly can <3333333333333

@operation-crown-jewels Caraaaaaaaaa ilysmmmm <3333333333333 I love talking with you and I love you so. freaking. much. I can’t even- I can’t even describe how much i love you. You are so special and sweet and supportive and I just can’t- you have NO IDEA how much that means to me, how much all your little comments mean to me. You are amazing, and special, and ahhhhh. You are SO special. So unique. And I’ll never find another friend like you <33333333333

@addies-invisible-life hey emma :3 You are actually the coolest person I know.You are so capable and smart and beautiful. You are kind and supportive and you are open to everyone who talks to you. You love with all your heart, and I love that about you. In everything you do, I can see the love behind it, the work and effort and love that you put into it. Every conversation I have with you lifts me up and energizes me(which is really rare because most conversations tire me). I still, after all this time, still can’t believe that a person as amazing as you even chooses to be friends with me. I love you so much and I will never stop loving you. You deserve the world, but I can’t give you that, so just take my reassurances that I will ALWAYS, NO MATTER WHAT, be here for you. ily and have a wonderful 2021 <3333333333333333333333333333333333333

@arushahisatroll my god. Ru, I love you so much. You are my internet girlfriend and I care about you so much. You are incredible, honestly. Your art is immaculate and you’re always so cheerful and fill me up with energy just THINKING about you. you always eager to commit arson, which is a very good trait, and I love plotting crimes with you. Every time I see your icon, my face lights up and I internally scream, bc “oh my god someone as perfect as ru exists in this world- i didn’t know that was possible.” You are the best, you are the absolute best, my bestie, and ily. Have a spectacular and immeasurably awesome 2021 <333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

@starry-tea-party Abina. Abina you are my rock. You are my light, my star, my sunshine, my galaxy. I love you so much, I can’t even begin to describe it. I don’t know if I can do justice to just how much you’ve helped me. Words... words have never been my strong suit. I love writing because I can weave stories together, piece together words I like to form sentences, and use those sentences to form narratives. Writing has always been easier for me than talking.... because in writing, I don’t have to worry what others will think, or how others will perceive me. I select the best words, and I present those words- the words I meticulously chose and nit-picked- to the audience. Life is a stage, and I have never been great at improv. I often find it hard to tell people things, to convey my meaning in the best possible way and to know exactly what words I need in any given situation. Talking is hard for me. But with you... with you, I never have to monitor what I’m saying. I never feel the need to reread and reread my messages before sending to make sure everything is in perfect order. It’s... it’s easy to talk to you. It’s easy to speak and I don’t worry when I’m with you. You make me feel so at ease, and I love you so much. I don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing, because I know that you’ll always support me and be by my side with a kind word and a heart of gold. Because that’s who you are. You are a creator, a dreamer, a lover, a visionary. You’re a friend. You are the hand that pulls people out of the water. The light that shines the pathway. You are the rock- the mountain we stand upon and look out over the beautiful sea. We look down at the seas below us and say, “how have we climbed so high already?” The reason is because you stand so tall, so bright and so magical, that we climb, we climb and we look out at the world below us. Not only are you tall, strong, powerful, but you lift people up right alongside you. There is nothing like the high of seeing the world stretch out beneath your feet, swinging you legs through the open air but knowing you’ll never fall. You represent that high in my mind. You represent and you remind me of the exhilaration of feeling untouchable- uplifted by love and kindness, able to reach heights you’ve never been to before. There is so much that can come when someone extends their hand to you. So much more can be achieved when there are two, holding each other up. You have held me up for so long. Every since we met, you have brought a smile to my face at the thought of you. Every time I think of you, my heart swells and I can’t breathe. Every comment you make or put on something I post has me screaming internally ans smiling uncontrollably. Whenever I see your icon I know my day is about to get one million times better. So thank you, Abi. For being my rock.

#wooh that was a lot #i love you all so much more than you can even comprehend #joining tumblr was the best part of 2020 for me #meeting all of you #happy new year

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waywardimpalawriter · 3 years

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Man out of time (Marcus Moreno x Female Reader)

Man out of time

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Female Reader

Characters: Marcus Moreno, Missy Moreno, Anita Moreno, mentions of Miracle Guy,

Setting: few months after the end of We can be heroes

Rating: PG-13 for now

Warnings: few curse words, angst mostly,

Word count: 1,610

Summary: Simple, two syllable word Dictionary.com say’s it means easy to understand, deal with, use, etc. Marcus Moreno curses its existence, wishing his katana’s could cut through with a neat slice and bring back what he’s lost.

Notes: Written for Writer Wednesday held by the marvelous @autumnleaves1991-blog. I’ll admit I battled with this one for a good while and with the help of @icanbeyourjedi decided this would be my first Marcus Moreno fic. I do hope you all enjoy and as always much love to all my doves.

“You promised remember?” Stubborn set to her small statue, arms across with a deep glare in those normally sweet brown eyes. “What happened to that promise dad?”

Looking to his mom for help but coming up empty as she just lifts her hands and shrugs with a small roll of her eyes before turning away to head back towards the kitchen. “Thanks mom,” slight sarcastic twist to the tone. Hand resting on popped out hip studying his daughter while searching for the right words to explain. “True it’s no emergency like two months ago Missy but the mission is simple enough I’ll be back home before the weekend.”

“Take me with you then,” brow lifting in challenge remind Marcus so much of her mother the memory picking his heart.

Pushing those thoughts aside, “I can’t you have school and training,” seeing her fixing to protest he holds up a hand to stall the flow of words. “Besides it’s too dangerous, this isn’t a typical mission the Heroics would go on.”

“So they push it on you, why?” Voice rising slightly with worry and a dash of fear for her father’s safety.

Running a hand through his hair tugging the dark strands lightly in frustration. “Things are…” always searching for the right words to explain, without giving too much away and keeping Missy in the dark to protect her. “Complicated Missy I have to lead by example you know that sweetheart. Please trust me when I say this isn’t something I want to do.”

“Then why…”

Sighing Marcus steps towards his daughter crouching down so their eye level, “Because I’m the only one qualified to take the mission.” Resting a fingerless gloved hand on her slim shoulder, “Simple in and out, take out the bad guy done,” offering her, his patented half smile. “Besides you’ve got your friends now and training you’ll never notice I’m gone.”

Expressive chocolate eyes roll but the smirk is all Moreno when they lock back with her father’s. Flinging herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and hugging the life’s breath from his lungs. “You’re wrong dad I’ll miss you,” trying to keep the trembling from her voice. Tears pricking the back of her eyes, nose rubbing along the leather jacket he’s wearing. “Four day’s right? No longer?”

“No longer just four days sweetheart,” pulling back to smile at his daughter catching the fear in her glassy eyes. “I promise to be safe.”

“And come home right?” She adds still clinging to her father’s shoulders. Memories of watching the alien’s wrap their mechanical arms around and pull him into the ship still very fresh in her mind. Never wanting a repeat performance of those horrible three hours.

Nodding, “Yes ma’am and I expect you to mind your abuela, do your homework and train.” Ticking off each one while giving her a smile.

“Always dad,” eyes rolling again as she lets him go, standing to his full height now. “When do you leave?”

Smiling slipping to a frown, “Once I’m packed. Intel came in this afternoon and I’ve been briefed.”

“Ah so that’s why your wear this ridiculous get up and rode in on that obnoxious two wheeled death machine,” putting her own words into the conversation, Anita Moreno rejoined her son and granddaughter leaning heavily on her cain. “Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me Marcus Moreno you aren’t too old for me to whip,” banishing her walking stick towards him affectionately.

“Mom,” wanting too but doesn’t roll his eyes at her words, heart warmed by the undercurrent of worry he picks up despite her admonishment. Knowing much like Missy, she worried about his well being and the dangers lurking around each corner for the leader of the Heroics. “Neither of you need to worry, it’s a simple mission nothing I haven’t faced before.”

Boy had he been wrong about those last few words, cursing that two syllable word with every fiber in his being while trying to adjust to these strange surroundings. Floating car honking, racing pass Marcus standing stock still in the middles of what didn’t appear be to a street.

“Hey asshole move before you get flown over,” half hanging out the window with a middle finger salute aimed his way.

Itching to use his powers on the punk Marcus shakes his head stepping back and almost tripping over the cement curb. Mesmerized by the sheer sights surrounding him. Blinking several times thinking he’s seeing things or at the very least Miracle Guy is playing some seriously messed up trick on him.

“Lost?” Soft feminine voice questions from behind him.

Turning slowly, weary of who’s standing at his back, “You could say that.”

“Marcus Moreno?” Gasp issues from her parted lips eyes shocked wide almost like seeing a ghost. “But… but your…”

Frowning unsure of this woman with how she’s acting at seeing him. “I’m what?”

“Dead…” her words echo around him like a thick fog.

Head shaking, reaching into his jeans pocket to pull the cell phone out cursing upon finding it’s out of juice. “The rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerated.” Trying to make light even as a stone starts to sink in his stomach. “Miracle Guy put you up to this? Has to be some kind of simulation testing me right?”

“No… no it’s,” bitting her lip, she takes a step forward pulling a thin clear plastic looking object from her pocket. “What year is it?”

“Why?” Looking between her face and the light up piece of tech in her hand, Marcus takes a step back. Only to be honked at by another flying car. “Tech guys stepped up their game this time around.”

“Because,” swallowing harshly, “your not in Kansas anymore Toto.” Trying and failing to give a half smile. Only to have it fall with he scowl Marcus sends her. “Answer the question first then I’ll explain.”

Sighing, running a shaky hand through his hair, dread filling his veins, “2021, March if I remember.”

“I”m sorry Dorothy but you’re wrong,” glancing down eyes focused on the thin piece of plastic in her grasp. Pulling up the calendar to show him the date. “It’s March 14, 2041 and you good sir have come back from the dead.”

Gapping like a fish out of water, Marcus can’t seem to string two words together till a bubble of laughter leaves his chest. Morphing into chuckles and finally a great big belly laugh which has him doubling over holding his stomach and slapping his knee. “It’s a joke right? Miracle Guy, Tech-No he’d be able to pull something like this off.”

Glancing up at her, seeing the weariness even a touch of fear painted in those deep eyes. Turning her phone back around to pull up the news report. Male voice echoing around the two of them only slightly drowned out by the busy city still churning.

“The search has been called off for Heroic’s leader Marcus Moreno as it entered the third week with no sign. Our hearts go out to the Moreno family hit by this tragedy. Leaving so many to wonder what exactly happened and how did his last mission go so wrong.”

Shaking his head, eyes blinking several times to clear the imagines of Missy and Anita crying in each others arms. Surrounded by the children of the Heroics and the hero’s themselves, each taking the news differently. Vision filled with Missy’s red rimmed, tear streaked face breaking his heart, legs giving out from under him and crumbing to his knees.

“I don’t… I just left… it’s been two hours,” words stuttering from his mouth trying to grasp exactly what happened.

Debating with herself whether to step forward for comfort or turn to leave. The former winning as she drops beside him, returning the phone to its pocket and carefully gathering this broken semi stranger into her arms. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t the intension we had. There’s,” swallowing hard when she feels him stiffen beside her. “A plan, we had a plan but it’s changed and now you’re stuck.”

Wide with anger and shock, Marcus’s deep chocolate eyes raise to look at her. “You did this?”

Gulping for air and words, “Not me solely no, I apologize truly this wasn’t… I mean,” fidgeting under the intense stare, bottom lip caught by her tongue and drug between pearly whites. “I’m sorry Marcus so sorry,” short sob leaving a dry throat.

“Sorry for what? For taking me away from my life, from my time period or from the little girl who needs her father? Because as I see it right now this is all manner of fucked up and your gonna do something about it. Fix this shit so I can get back to my daughter.” Seething with rage Marcus stands to his full impressive height. Reaching behind to pull both katana’s from there sheathes.

Staying on her knees head bowed, “I can’t that’s the trouble Marcus.” Looking up into his pain streaked furious chocolate eyes, flinching at the sneer that contorts his beloved features. “I’m mysorry darling truly,” words whispered and barely meeting his ears as she vanishes into the thin air.

Speechless, arms hanging at his sides, stuck by the realization of her words, the video, combine with the knowledge he’s lost twenty some years with Missy watching her grow-up. Emotions swirl like a thick fog in his mind consuming thoughts and making reactions none existence to the world around him. A world that’s left him behind, while he’s stuck in the past and facing an uncertain future as a man out of time.

#Writer Wednesday #Marcus Moreno x Female Reader #Marcus Moreno x F!Reader #Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader #We can be heroes fic

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ofgoldentouches · 3 years

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Let's start off 2021 with a POSITIVE note! I want to kick off the year by giving love to mutuals I've been able to become fast friends with.

My goal is by the end of the year, I'll be able to write another list with many more mutuals! If I don't mention you on this post, it's just because I haven't talked to you much OOC or RPed with you yet. We have a whole year to change that <3.

@ashbound

Your writing is so beautiful and you’re just such an awesome person to write with. I cannot get enough of our clowns together. Their chemistry is OUT the roof and just ugh, they love each other so much it’s unreal.

Your portrayal is amazing and I just always look forward to seeing you in my inbox or in my DMs <3333 You and your muses are wonderful and I’m going to love them all, okay? Thanks.

You’ve become such a trusted friend to me and like I’m just so happy to see you on my dash and I can never express how much it means to me that we’ve become friends <3 *ugly sobs*

@evcryopeneye

Let me start off by saying that I’m sorry for not writing replies .o. I owe you so many and I honestly don’t know how you haven’t just obliterated me by now x’D. Pushing that aside though, Sammie! You’re so wonderful <3 everything about you and your blog is perfect in every way! You’re such a sweetheart and the amount of effort that goes into your characters shows a lot!

Your writing is incredible and I’m always blown away by your replies or your asks. I’m just going to love your blog till the day I die, mkay? UwU

You’ve also become a dear friend of mine, I love getting messages from you and look forward to each message. I love you, friend! I hope you’re doing well <3.

@baijingshen

Your blog blows me away and like I know we haven’t known each other long but like you’re so sweet and easy to talk to! Your writing is so neat and flows so nicely, I find myself reading your things from time to time when it comes across my dash since it’s that good!

I hope we continue to write together, either with our troublesome boys or something else <3 It’s so fun getting to plan what our muses are going to go through next.

@spelllbound

So, I know we haven’t RPed much but let me just say that you have become a DEAR mutual because you’re so kind OOC! Your kind words have brought my mood up when I was down and the writing I do get to read on your blog is so well done. The amount of love and effort you put into your muses show and I honestly cannot get enough.

I love talking to you and I hope we can write more in the future <3.

@thesoulshards

AAA another mutual which I know I haven’t been able to RP as much as I would like to BUT I still cherish <3 You’re kind and I believe are one of the first actual people who welcomed me in this community so warmly.

You’re so sweet and deserve all the lovely things in the world, I hope to write more with you in the future! Your writing is addicting to read as well, I also find myself reading things from your blogs.

@chordbound

I haven’t talked to you much OOC or RPed with you much but I cherish seeing you on my dash .w. I’m a bit intimidated tbh XD. Your writing is so beautifully crafted and the details you put into your muses also show. I hope to interact with you more in the future <333.

@dreams-of-fate

We’ve only recently become friends but let me tell you, I would now die for you and your muses <33 You’re a funny and a warm person to talk to and I always get a smile when I get to talk to you OOC.

While we haven’t RPed a long time, I love the threads we do have so far!

@stvrgvzcrs

I have a TERRIBLE habit of not replying to things and forgetting about them but I just want you to know that I ADMIRE your blogs from a distance. Your writing and the way you portray your characters is so in depth and it fascinates me!

I cannot wait for the day we finally get to write together once I get my god damn act together <3 you’re an awesome person and you deserve all the love.

@untamedxfates

Listen, I love you and Lan Xichen lots, I would go even farther and say that I love all your muses and I’m ready to die for any of them at any given moment. I love how we were able to connect Xue Yang and Lan Xichen together, they’re so adorable and they’ve become a cherished ship VwV.

Your writing is beautiful and you are also a very beautiful and kind person OOC, you deserve the love that you are given and you’re a valued friend. I love you <3 please take care of yourself.

@graceflute

Wei Wuxian and Xue Yang are going to kill me dead. That’s all.

JK JK but aaa <3 you’re nothing but a lovely breath of fresh air, you’re so kind and your writing is beautiful! I always get excited when you pop up on my dash! Everything you write is super amazing and just flows so nicely! Your portrayals are just *chefs kiss*.

I am determined to love all your muses!

@divinelament

Listen.... THIS BLOG STOLE MY HEART THE FIRST TIME I LAID EYES ON IT BECAUSE EVERYTHING???? IS SO BEAUTIFUL???? THE WRITING? THE PORTRAYAL? THE ATTENTION TO DETAIL? I WAS ABOUT TO FAINT WHEN I SAW YOU FOLLOWED ME <3.

You have it all and you’re such a nice person to talk to OOC and I hope we continue to talk more <3 I hope you are having a pleasant day.

#[ an essay of me rephrasing the same words over and over because I can't think #[ but I want you to all know you're amazing .o.#FRIENDS && ENEMIES ALIKE; Promo #FOLLOW THESE LOVELIES

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ohshitmomitsawritingblog · 4 years

Note

Hi! Can I request romantic hcs of post-war Sasuke? Like, would there be anything different from how it would've been before the war? Would it be someone from another village?

Post-war sasuke …. anon your mind. All sasukes are good but this one is like a fine wine WITH a complimentary cheeseboard because there’s just so. much. potential. Also this got really really long and a bit off topic and I apologize DEEPLY.

Post-War Sasuke

So. Post war sasuke. Sad, broken, beat down. I think as much as Sasuke tries to be content with his lot in life, he’s just tired in a way pre-war Sasuke just isn’t.

Like. Here’s the thing. Sasuke hasn’t ever, in his life, been able to form a solid identity for himself. People talk about being shaped by trauma, and this is especially true for Sasuke. Being born a Uchiha, for better or worse, puts Sasuke on the outskirts of the society he’s born into before he’s even aware of it. The murder of his clan is compounded by the betrayal of his brother. This is the big event that triggers a lot of things around and inside Sasuke. Other smaller, but still traumatizing, life altering things happen. Orochimaru happened. The Chuunin exams happens. Itachi happens. Again.

An early Shippuden romance with Sasuke would be slightly possible in the way that it’s not so much romance as a pre-romance romance. Not quite friends but not quite lovers because Sasuke wouldn’t ever say ‘I love you’ or ‘you’re mine and we’re exclusive’. It’s just an unspoken agreement/ultimatum.

If Sasuke ever took interest in anyone during his time with Orochimaru, it’d be something he’d only be half aware of, or dismiss entirely.

In a lot of ways, he’d be far more rigid than post war Sasuke in love. His S/O is with him, or against him. They have to, HAVE TO fully support his revenge against Itachi, and later on Konoha, or no dice.

He could be very oblivious to downright dismissive to his S/O’s feelings and thoughts. This trait is especially prevalent during Sasuke’s very Special Corrupt Political Figure Assassination arc.

Speaking of which, Akatsuki/Danzo Murder arc Sasuke? -100 chance at romance. Please avoid.

This is of course on the premise that he gets with someone. More than likely, he wouldn’t get into any sort of relationship with a potential S/O.

He’ll push away any sort of romantic relationship, even if he really, really likes someone. He’s not at the point of burning out yet, and maybe, in the back of his mind that is isolated from the many, many roadblocks, he pictures a world where he can speak with this person who he so clearly - in his mind - likes, one on one, with no threat of a tragedy, repeated, tugging at his brain like a dark cloud.

Ultimately, pre-war, (especially early Shippuden) Sasuke is a human being, and humans love and crave connection. Of course there’s the possibility that he’d be interested.

Sasuke however, is someone driven by fear. Fear of loss, fear of not being good enough, fear of always, always failing the most important people in his life in the most fundamental of ways.

To quote Game of Throne’s Gregor Clegane: ‘The pain was bad (…) but the worst thing was, was that it was my brother who did it.’ Which I think summarizes that kind of betrayal, and resulting fear of becoming close to others, that Sasuke carries with him. Part of the reason Sasuke is the way he is, is because he’s unable to process and move on from the pain Itachi inflicts on him. Not even Itachi’s half admittance of the wrongs he’s done to Sasuke and the resulting declaration of love really changes Sasuke on a fundamental level, because it’s ultimately not for Sasuke, it’s for Itachi.

Sasuke post-war is a Sasuke that gives up. He’s tired, he’s burnt out, his brain and to a lesser extent his body is just worn down from the single minded drive for revenge Sasuke has carried with him for so long.

He goes with Konoha because it is familiar, and it is the only place who will take him. He accepts punishment because part of him is convinced he deserves it - because killing Itachi only made him more confused, only added to the grief - and because it’s just easier than fighting a system that has proven well adept at crushing Uchihas.

He leaves because he can’t tolerate Konoha - and the people in it - for very long. He loves them. He hates him. He resents. He envies. He ultimately feels empty, and is convinced he deserves this feeling.

I think the biggest difference between pre- and post-war Sasuke, is that he’s so worn down that he just can’t run from his feelings anymore.

There’s no pushing away, or avoiding it when he gets hit with romantic feelings for someone.

Sasuke is burnt out, but he’s young, and for once in his life, as he wonders Shinobi lands by himself, he learns about the world outside of the context of potential battle and conflict. He learns about fertility festivals held in oceanside villages in the south of the Land of Wind; he learns of women who dive deep into the oceans in search of pearls and other treasures in the Land of Waves. He learns he likes dango, just not the kind made in Konoha. He learns he doesn’t the overly savory, preserved foods that are popular in the north.

In that way, I can see it being more likely that he meets an S/O outside of Konoha. I wouldn’t entirely shoot down the possibility, it’s just not as likely, just by the fact that Sasuke makes sure he’s almost always out of the village if he has the option.

This is an imagines blog so the details of how, where, and why Sasuke meets and hooks up with his S/O is up in the air: but let it be known that when Sasuke falls in love, he falls so far, and so fucking deep. He’s helpless.

The gravity and depth of his feelings both scare and excite him. He carries some intense anxieties over the future of the relationship close to his chest, but unlike before, where Sasuke would distance himself from those feelings, he holds them tight. He doesn’t know what’s different now. He only knows he wants what he has with his S/O, and maybe, just maybe, even more.

Sasuke eventually goes from learning about himself, to opening himself to another again. This time, it’s new, and this time, he actually has a choice.

Sasuke’s love language is a mix of quality time and the spoken word. He’s an intellectual lover, he falls in love with people through a mixture of spending time in the same space, working toward the same goal, and exchanging words. He likes someone whose an introspective conversationalist. His and his S/O’s talks are sometimes casual and go nowhere, and sometimes deep and in the middle of the night. All of them are important to him.

The courtship is an agonizingly slow, but steady process. Sasuke doesn’t quite know how to operate in a romantic relationship, and he’s too proud to confide that in his S/O, even after they get together.

He’s not exactly an easy person to love, and although Sasuke isn’t as prickly and turbulent as he was in his past, old habits die hard. He’s a bit like a cat: wanting attention and love on his terms, and gets spooked over the most minor of infractions. He needs an S/O with a lot of patience and a strong backbone.

He wakes his S/O up in the middle of the night, tells them something horribly fucked up from his past, and then turns over and falls into a dead asleep.

When he cries in front of his S/O for the first time and feels no shame, nor need to hide himself, that’s when he knows it’s for real for real.

As a romantic gift of sorts, he’ll take his S/O to remote, out of the way villages or places he particularly liked. The peace and fascination these places instill in him is something he wants to share with his S/O.

Sasuke isn’t one for material gifts. He’s grown up with that fat Uchiha check in his bank account, always had food in his stomach and cloths on his back, so he just really sees no point in things like jewelry or cloths as gifts.

Sasuke was always inclined to more practical, no frills-oriented way of life, and living a very nomadic lifestyle encouraged this trait. If he moves in with his S/O, he has absolutely no idea how to decorate, and even less interest. To make himself feel useful, he would probably would opt to do things like put together a kitchen full of good quality ingredients and cutlery. It takes time for Sasuke to get used to domestic living in more ways than one.

Home is a very strange concept for Sasuke. It would be a huge shift in their relationship, and in Sasuke, to take that step to move in together.

I don’t think post-war Sasuke thinks about his life in neat terms like his younger self would. I think pre-war Sasuke would probably think he would get married before even considering moving in with someone. Produce heirs out of obligation to his clan. Become a respected man in his field of choice. Everything an honorable son of a practically dead clan would do.

instead, post-war Sasuke takes life in stride, especially with the presence of an S/O. If they aren’t keen on marriage or children, Sasuke just goes with it. It’s not that he’s willing to obey his S/O’s every wish so much as he’s just more relaxed. If it happens, it happens.

Labels and titles become something he just doesn’t care much about. If he loves his S/O he loves his S/O, if he’s shadow Hokage he’s shadow Hokage; or not. It’s that simple.

In terms of physical affection, Sasuke has a tendency to sling his arm around his S/O’s neck and bring their face up (or down) to his level and kisses them on the cheek pretty habitually. It’s a very territorial display.

On the rare occasion he wants something put out for display, like a bowl he was gifted in a tiny village, or a painting given as a gift from whatever small kingdom he visits, he’ll present it to his S/O first. Even if they’re with Sasuke on his travels, or staying in whatever village or town they decide to settle in, it’s important to Sasuke that his S/O has a say in just about everything in their lives. He also just wants them to like his rare assertion to the aesthetics of their home.

Speaking of, he’s the type of man who secretly loves hearing his partner’s opinions, but will never show it. This is in direct contrast to a younger Sasuke, who didn’t want to hear anything from anyone about anything. With age comes wisdom and a willingness to love people in the way they deserve, with this guy.

Sasuke just overall becomes more pensive and considerate. While he’s not ever exactly perfectly mentally healthy, and he can have bad, bad tunnel vision, the days of feeling hunted by his own emotions are more or less gone. Life is a less frantic need to succeed as soon as possible so much as it is to just live. It makes for a lighter Sasuke.

If Sasuke and his S/O have children, he practically becomes a homebody. Despite his feelings of obligation towards Naruto, he puts aside his unofficial title as shadow Hokage and well and truly settles down. Family is so, so important to Sasuke. Starting one scares the hell out of him, when he has his first child he promises himself that he’ll never, never leave them. He knows what it is to be alone and put aside. He would never do that to his child. Fuck what Kishimoto said.

Also as an end note: Blood Bank is a very Romantic Sasuke Song.

#anon #sasuke uchiha #sasuke x reader #sasuke headcanons #sasuke imagines #sasuke was done so dirty #i so desperately want my lil moon boy to be happy so i am fixing that #i love him SO MUCH

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daily-dose-of-imagines · 4 years

Text

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝔻𝕒𝕪

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Heyo this is my first time writing on the blog so be kind. I just got obsessed with the idea of Aizawa being an elementary school teacher

>> Admin B̷r̷a̷n̷d̷o̷

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Ok, maybe this won’t be so bad?

He put on a fake smile and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. The bags under his eyes were somehow more apparent then usual. His face quickly faded into his trademark apathetic scowl.

Who am I kidding? This is the worst possible situation.

Aizawa sneered at the thought of his current situation. Of how his pristine English classroom was being taken from him because they needed “fresh blood”. Of how he was not only being forced into a new school, but also a new grade. He sighed (heavier than usual), leaving his dim apartment early, to beat traffic and give him time to dwell further on his current situation.

As he drove, his brain on went on auto pilot and all his worries and thoughts crossed his mind once again. Aizawa had never taught anything lower than 6th grade, and he never wanted to. It’s not that he didn’t like kids, it’s that he didn’t love kids. High schoolers were almost adults, so he didn’t have to sugar coat anything. No snack time, no name calling, no bullshit. The sudden unemployment was truly a wake-up call (not just because he would fall asleep in class), telling him that he needed to get his shit together. He was thankful that his good friend Nezu happened to have a job opening, he just wished it were at any other school.

Arriving at the school made him sick. The bright colors. The intricately hand painted signs reading “Welcome To The New Year!” and “Start the school year with a smile.” The line of staff waiting outside the school to welcome him. The line of staff? Jesus.

His wish to quietly slip into his new classroom vanished before his eyes. There was no way he could avoid meeting his new colleagues now. Hopefully, he thought, I can get through this without too much headache.

“SHOUTAAAAAAAAA!!!!”

And the headache began.

“Oh my god, Shouta! It’s been so long! And you never returned my texts?? I can’t believe we’re working together again! I thought you didn’t like elementary school?? Anyway, c’mon we need to get you all settled!! I heard you got fired?? What’s up with that? Did you- “

Before he could even fully get out of his car, Hizashi was pulling him toward the crowd of faculty almost against his will. The crowd was full of smiling faces, kind waves, and judging glances.

Ugh

“Welcome Mr. Aizawa! I am glad that Mr. Yamada was telling the truth that he was a close friend. Well I know that our little pocket of perfect isn’t quite the high school setting you’re used to but believe me that you’ll love it soon enough.” Principal Nezu smiled happily and gestured to the quaint little school.

“Starting in the middle of the school year isn’t easy, but I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it,” he added with a wink.

Aizawa glanced briefly at the bright marquee reading “U. A. Elementary School”, then back to the group of hopeful faces. He put on his best “I’m totally not wishing I was somewhere else right now” face, and /reluctantly/ expressed his joy to be there.

With his seemingly pleasant response, the evaluative air cleared somewhat, and the gossipier teachers left the gathering, no longer interested.

Taking Aizawa’s arm, Nemuri pressed her chest against him, “Hate to interrupt but Shouta- Mr. Aizawa, really needs to get to his classroom.” With that, the tall woman, along with Hizashi, practically dragged the poor man away, though he was internally grateful to be away from the crowd.

They arrived at Aizawa’s new classroom, still full of the previous teachers’ belongings. He pulled himself away from the others, brushing himself off.

“Thanks Midnight.”

“Oh, stop with that,” Nemuri responded, fixing her immaculate hair in the reflection from the window, “I haven’t gone by that since college. No one here needs to know the escapades of Ms. Midnight.”

Aizawa chuckled lightly, “At least I have some familiar faces here, aside from Nezu.” He peered over to the other two, seeing their “trying to be respectful but insanely curious” faces. “Fine, I’ll address the elephant in the room. Yes, I was fired. No, it was not for selling drugs to the kids, Hizashi. I just… had trouble staying awake, apparently a few times too many.”

Hizashi sighed in defeat and pulled a twenty out of his pocket, handing it sadly to Nemuri.

“Good thing there was an opening here for you,” Hizashi replied, almost like a whine as he mourned his loss, “Too bad it came at the loss of Yagi. Poor guy having to be stuck at home after that dumb injury.”

Nemuri chuckled, “It’s his own fault for jumping out of the second story window to give one of his students the lunchbox they forgot.”

“He’ll be back next year, and I’ll be long gone. hopefully.” Aizawa interrupted, tying his long hair back. “Now can you two leave? I have kids coming in less than an hour to a teacher that could care less about them right now.”

Nemuri exhaled sharply through her nose, a smirk crossing her face, “You need a better attitude, my friend, or they will eat you alive.” She pushed herself off the desk, pulling Hizashi along.

“Good luck!” He called out, “let me know if I can help! The music room is always open for you!”

As the door slowly closed, Aizawa turned back to his new classroom. The desks were arranged in neat rows and columns, small pieces of tape on the carpeted floor to ensure that they remained in their neat arrangement. He was appalled by the disorganized mess that was Yagi’s previous desk arrangement.

Aizawa sat at his new desk, dropping his head into his hands. He had never taught 2nd grade before. Sure, he was certified to teach it, but that was more of a trophy to him than an actual career choice. Like when someone minors in art history. What made it especially difficult was that he was taking over a class run by the one and only Yagi Toshinori, legendary his teaching. He was the “symbol of peace” for teachers, doing interviews for local news stations and giving presentations for the school district.

The four of them (Yagi, Hizashi, Nemuri, and himself) had gone through college together, but lost touch as they all chose their path. Yagi with younger kids, Aizawa with teens, Hizashi with music, and Nemuri with administration. Aizawa knew that Yagi was a better teacher than him, and that he had big shoes to fill, literally.

Aizawa broke from his lamentation as the morning bell rang. He opened his door to be greeted with the cacophonous sound of 20 children itching the get into their classroom. He was nearly knocked over by the force of almost two dozen children running into inspect what the new teacher had done. Surprisingly, the new layout did not stop the wave of children, they all quickly found their name tags and sat down, most of them loudly complaining.

Aizawa moved to the front of the room and cleared his throat. Twenty small faces focused on him. “Good morning students. As you may know, Mr. Toshinori is injured and will not be able to continue teaching this year. My name is Mr. Aizawa and I’m going to be your teacher for the remainder of the school year-” A series of small hands shot up in front of him. He sighed, “Yes, you,” pointing to the small girl sitting politely in the front row.

“Excuse me, but why can’t Mr. Toshinori come back?” she asked, cocking her head.

Before he could answer, another young girl, this one with pink hair, jumped up, “Momo, he broke his butt, that’s why he can’t come back!”

“He didn’t break his butt! He broke his feet, stupid.” A blonde boy in the back stood up and pointed at her.

“Who are you calling stupid? I saw it, you buttface.” She stuck her tongue out at him. Seeing her mocking face, the boy began throwing his pencils at her, to which she started throwing her pencils. Momo began crying at the violence, while the other students began cheering for one of the other two students.

This was going to be a long day.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

As Nemuri entered the teacher’s lounge, she was greeted with the sight of Aizawa looking… well, dead. “Well, I was expecting this.” She commented, setting her stack of papers down and sitting on the table in front of him. “Rough day?” Aizawa merely groaned in response. She patted his head lightly, “You know what they say about kids, it’s like wrangling kittens.”

“I’ve never heard that.” He replied, lifting his head up to a more alive position. “I don’t know how he did it. Those kids just don’t listen.”

“How did you deal with your high schoolers?”

“None of us wanted to be there so we respected each other’s time and got shit done.”

Nemuri clicked her tongue, “It’s a wonder why you’re a teacher at all. You used to have passion for teaching, Shouta. Try to tap into some of that.” With that, Nemuri hopped off the desk, scooping up her papers, “If you need advice on how to deal with them, we’re here for you, all three of us.”

The door to the lounge closed softly behind, and he was once again alone. Aizawa hesitated at the thought of asking any of them for help. He had not spoken to any of them for years. While he enjoyed their company, Aizawa knew he did not belong. Nemuri, Hizashi, and of course Yagi, all had this passion and fire for education that Aizawa himself had lost years ago. It felt wrong to him to be there.

The soft chime of the lunch bell reminded Aizawa that he had to return to his classroom. Which he really did not want to do. The kids barely got along with each other, who they have known for months, how were they supposed to cooperate with him, a total stranger? He trudged back to his classroom, just as the students began pouring in. As they took their seats, he stood, and began writing their next lesson on the board. Once all were seated, he turned around to address them.

“I am very disappointed with how the morning went.” At this remark, half the students rolled their eyes, while the other half looked like they were going to burst into tears. Aizawa stopped and began thinking. What would Yagi do in this situation? He would be cheery and upbeat and overly personal with the students. Well, he thought, nothing would hurt to try at this point.

He sighed, sitting down on his desk, “Listen guys, I know this is hard for you, its hard for me two. The only way we can make this work is if we give each other a chance and get to know each other. So..” he looked at the confused faces of the kids, “Let’s go outside.”

The students all filed outside behind Aizawa, confused yet intrigued. He turned to face them, “Now I have a task for you, we’re going to go on a hike around the school, and you’re going to tell me about everything interesting you see.” The students collectively gasped and nodded excitedly.

As the class walked around the school, Aizawa learned many things about the kids. Like how Tenya liked to walk this path with his brother, or how Shoto would take trips through the woods when he wanted to get away from his family, or how Yuga collect only “the prettiest and shiniest” rocks. Although this was far more effort than he usually put into teaching, Aizawa was having fun.

The week from that point on went… surprisingly well. The students slowly warmed up to Aizawa, and even began enjoying his teaching. They continued setting time aside for a class hike and decided that they would start a nature journal to write about what they saw on their hikes. Aizawa, even though he would never admit it, even started smiling more in class. Before he knew it, the end of the week had already come.

As the students filed out of the room, several waved goodbyes to Aizawa. He smiled and waved back, eyes wandering to the small boy standing shyly next to him. “Hey Midoriya, do you need something? You should be heading home.”

“I am going home! But I made you something to celebrate how much fun we are having! I still like Mr. Toshinori more, but you’re really fun!” The boy shoved a piece of paper into Aizawa’s hands. “Ok my mom is waiting, bye Mr. Aizawa! See you next week!” Before Aizawa could respond, the boy ran out of the room. He looked at the paper. On it was a crudely drawn picture of him and the class on one of their hikes. He chuckled lightly, pinning the picture to the wall.

He was pulled away from his thoughts by the sudden vibrations of his phone. Without checking, he answered, “Aizawa speaking.”

“Um, hey! It’s been a while.”

“…Yagi?”

“Yeah! Hizashi told me you were taking over for me, and I, uh, wanted to say thanks!”

“I should be thanking you,” Aizawa commented, amusement crossing his face upon hearing the familiar voice again, “I needed a job and you had some broken bones.” They both chuckled awkwardly.

After a moment of thick silence, Aizawa sighed, “Its good time hear from you, Yagi. I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

Yagi chuckled, “We should catch up soon. You know, when I can walk again that is.” he paused, “So I, uh actually called to... uh, How are the kids?”

Aizawa laughed at how the blonde could barely hide his intentions. “They’re doing fine, no need to worry.”

“Are you handling them alright? I know they can be a handful.”

Aizawa looked fondly at the drawing Midoriya had handed him, “It’s an adjustment, but I think we’ll be able to get through the year.

#mha #mha au #my hero academia #my hero academia au #nonpowered au #school au #bnha #bnha au #boku no hero academia au #boku no hero academia

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miyu-hyperfixates · 4 years

Text

The Untamed and MDZS appreciation and recommendation post

Okay so fair warning to my small amount of followers, this blog will probably be full of MXTX contents starting from now, because I’ve fallen into MXTX’s hell and I don’t see myself climbing out any time soon.

I’m not even kidding in the span of three months, I’ve watched CQL (like 4 times), watched the special edition, watch the MDZS donghua, read the novel, read the manhua, read a fair amount of fics, discovered the SVSSS’s characters through a few crossover fanfics, started to read SVSSS, then TGCF (as well as their respective manhua up to the last translated chapters) and well generally immersed myself into the fandoms. And I LOVE it! And I have so, so many feelings and thoughts about the characters, the plots, the relationships, everything, that I don’t even know where to start!

Okay so for those who don’t know what the hell I’ve talking about. MXTX stands for Mò Xiāng Tóng Xiù who is the author of three amazing novels: Mo Dao Zu Shi (MDZS) [also called Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation], The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System (SVSSS) and Tian Guan Ci Fu (TGCF) [Heaven Official’s Blessing]. The Untamed or Chen Qing Ling (CQL) is the chinese drama adaptation of her most well known (as of now) novel MDZS.

I am going to talk about CQL/The Untamed and MDZS (novel version) in this post... But it will probably be followed by posts about TGCF and SVSSS too.

I’ve tried to be pretty vague on several points so that should keep the spoilers at minimum, in case you didn’t watch CQL yet.

[More under the cut]

Okay so as someone of Asian descent who was born and raised in an European country and spent her formative years watching wuxia and xianxia, The Untamed/CQL is the kind of representation that I really didn’t know I needed and I am so, so glad that I gave it a chance. (Big, big thanks to @shit-happens-bitchachos for reblogging so much CQL contents that the frequent presence of it on my dash got me curious enough to start watching it).

Watching The Untamed for the first time feels like coming back to a home that you once thought would be frigid but actually became very warm and welcoming without you noticing because you have been away for so long. And it feels both nostalgic and new, in the best possible way. It’s a wonderful feeling, really.

Where to find it?

You can watch the drama english sub version on Netflix, Viki or Youtube, just typed “The Untamed” and you should find the episodes easily.

To be honest, though I am very thankful for the existence of such platform, I have a slight [read huge] dislike of Netflix’s choice of translation for any Asian movie/tv shows. I mean I’m not going to go off on a debate about official translation vs fan translation, nor westernization and how doing so not only take off a huge layer of subtle/or not so subtle communication but also participate to erase part of the culture. [Because I have opinions about this and I am still very much so cringing about all the “Yanli”s, it is really not the point I’m trying to make right now. ]

So out of the three version, I’d lean more on the Viki version. To be clear though this choice isn’t based on the accuracy of the translation, but strictly on the choice of naming and title convention.

As for the novel, you can find here a complete english translation made by the Exiled Rebels Scanlations group.

The plot

I’m not going to go into detail about the plot, because I’m sure a lot of people out there managed to do so in a way more articulate way that I ever could.

So basically CQL is about Wei Wuxian, aka the Yiling Patriarch. The Yiling Patriarch is like this huge urban legend that everyone warns their children about, except he actually existed. Why such a reputation? Well, in a Cultivation society where people used spiritual energy to fight and exorcise creatures full of resentful energy (such as ghost, ghouls and other things), the Yiling Patriarch is actually the guy who decided that he was going to use resentful energy to fight resentful energy. What he is doing is called “demonic cultivation” and if you want a western equivalent it would be quite close to using necromancy. And if you want an idea of how blasphemous such method of cultivation is deemed, it would be the equivalent of going to a Christian exorcist organization and yelling loud and clear to all the people there that you’re gonna desecrate the tombs of all holy people and use their corpses to fight ghost and other dark creatures.

So the legend/story of the Yiling Patriarch goes as follow: The Yiling Patriarch and his army of corpses were actually quite useful to turn over the tide of a war that shook the foundations of the Cultivation World, annihilating the strongest Sect of the five Great Cultivation Sects (that lorded over the cultivation society). But some time afterwards the Yiling Patriarch revealed his true colors, and killed more than 3000 cultivators (among them his elder sister and her husband - orphaning their one month old son) before finally ended up being killed by his own little brother.

And now sixteen (or thirteen in the novel) years later, Wei Wuxian’s soul got called back because of a dark ritual. The ritual involved giving up their own soul and offering their body to summon up the soul of a dead, evil, person. The soul summoned would have to accomplish the task the summoner wished for, or the soul would be forever destroyed without being able to ever reincarnate. And so, Wei Wuxian woke up in the body of Mo Xuanyu, a young man who was abused by his family and wished for revenge. While trying to work out what he is supposed to do, Wei Wuxian quickly realized that the Mo family is actually being targeted by fierce corpses that are acting way more aggressively than they should. Turns out that it was because of a possessed spirit sword [a cut out arm in the novel].

Afterwards he encounters Lan Wangji, an esteemed cultivator, one of the strongest of his generation, coming from one of the most righteous Cultivation Sect. And the thing is, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji appear to have quite a complicated history that dates back to their teenage years. And CQL/MDZS is not only about how they decided to investigate the mystery of the possessed sword/arm (which ended up digging up a lot of secrets and conspiracy ), but also about Wei Wuxian’s past, starting from when he was 15 and meeting Lan Wangji for the first time.

The few things that you’re probably going to feel/think while watching the few first episodes

Confusion I think I’m not even kidding when I say you’re supposed to be in a state of perpetual confusion for the first two episodes... There’s this huge info dump, in the first five minutes of episode 1, then you’ll have to navigate this new world feeling as confused as dead-for-sixteen years Wei Wuxian... You’ll meet dozens of characters and if you can’t remember their names or who they are it’s normal don’t worry. Each character has a birth name (Wei Ying, Lan Zhan) and a courtesy name that (Wuxian, Wangji)... And so if you see Wei Ying or Wei Wuxian just know that it refers to the same person. And to complicate things further some characters also have a title (Yiling Patriarch, Hanguang-Jun) other people might use to refer to them. So really, if you want to understand what is going on, you might want to note the name, title and relationship down... But it’s kinda tedious? I promise it is unnecessary as those characters will all be introduced properly in the flash-back starting at the end of episode 2, and you’ll fully be able to get used to them and keep track of them. Of course, if you managed to remember a few names, once the character is being introduced in the past, you’ll get a “ Oh so at some point, this is going to happen to them” sort foreshadowing/foreknowledge, which is neat, I guess. [I recommend going back to watch the first two episodes, once the flash-back is over, to fully grasp what was going on there].

What the hell am I even watching? Okay so this one might only just be me but I was pretty hooked by the story by episode 3... and then I reached episode 8 and 9 and I kid you not, I went “Oh boy... that’s.... yeah okay... *cover face with hands*”... So I was cringing pretty hard for those two episodes out of second-hand embarrassment at the extras actors acting level... Like woah... It was supposed to be scary and threatening and all but I couldn’t just take them seriously? (You’ll know what I’m talking about when you get there)... That with some plot points made me seriously consider stopping right there.... But thankfully I didn’t. So you really just need to pass the first two episodes [which are really good] and cringe your way through the two most abyssal episodes in the show (in my opinion) and everything will go smoothly afterwards. Though to be fair, it might be explained by the fact that no one expected that CQL would have the highest number of reviews of Chinese drama, nor that it would be the highest earning drama of 2019 and certainly not that it would accumulate 8 billions views on Tennent by May 2020. Where am I going with this? Well it was certainly no Game of thrones in terms of budget... That’s what I’m trying to say. It had a low budget production... and well in a fantasy world where everyone and their grandma use supernatural power to fight each other and demonic creatures, special effects are a must. Choices had had to be made [and while I am very thankful for the aspects they decided to use the money on] the special effects were very touch and go.

Okay but are they going to be together or is this another case of queerbaiting? So if what you’re asking is “will we ever get a kiss, a love confession or definite proof of their relationship?”. The very short answer is “No.” You’ll never see any of those on screen for the very simple and good reason that there are censorship laws in China regarding queer relationship on screen. “So it’s basically queerbaiting?” Again no. CQL was adapted from a BL chinese novel. In the novel there is absolutely no room for doubts that they are together. But because of the censorship the producer teams had to remove all definite and obvious proof of romance, but it also means that they had to be creative and anything in the subtext or subtle areas was a go. Like really they crammed more homoerotic text (like at this point is this even subtext) in the show than in all other kinds of adaptations (including the novel, where we get kissing, sex and eloping). It got the point that contrarily to the novel, donghua and manhua where the whole Cultivation world thought Lan Wangji hated Wei Wuxian and that they couldn’t stand each other,in the show everybody and their dogs knew that the two were very close. Also, while I absolutely hate that those censor law exist and am very disappointed that such homophobic mentality still exist and that we won’t get a full adaptation and explicit of their love story, I must say that because of this my demisexual ass absolutely love the depiction of their love in the show. I mean, when you don’t have the “easy way out” of kissing and sex and so all to show that they is definitively romance material going on here... You have to get creative, you have to convey it with all other gestures... touching, gazing at each other and so on... And it creates such a soft but intense and intimate environment around them...By the way I’m not trying to negate their sexual relationship in the novel (#LetWangxianFreelyExpressTheirSexualLives)... I’m just saying that I’m not sure the producing teams would have gotten to such a length in the show if they could just have adapted the explicit romance scenes. Now if somehow they’d had managed to keep the same level of intense subtext and be able to adapt the romance scenes too, that would have been the best, but well...

The reasons you should still absolutely watch/read it?

The plot

The way all those character journeys and stories are interwoven in such a cohesive picture is nothing short of amazing. And the way that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji unravel events that happened more than a decade ago piece by piece [or rather body part by body part] is so very well done. And of course half way through, you think that you’ve got the full pictures, and you’re sort of gloating all the while because you see it coming from miles away and how can the cast be that stupid... And well you are not wrong. Watch out for the canary though. The show chose to move a few things in term of timeline (character appearing and events happening way before they were supposed to... )... They also added a few original plot points in the past.... So as a results it feels slightly less cohesive and coherent than in the novel. Anyway I won’t go into details here because I’ve got this super long post planned where I’d detailed all the differences between the novel and the show and why some things worked in my opinion but not other. CQL and MDZS are what a properly balanced plot-driven and character-driven show/novel look like.

The relationships

Of course, Wangxian (Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji) should absolutely be mentioned. Because throughout the story in the past, you watch as young, wild, ingenious, thinking-out-of-box Wei Wuxian meet an equally young seemingly inflexible, impassive, following 3000+ rules in his daily lives Lan Wangji, you watch how their personality clashes before finally acknowledging each other skills, you watch how they hurt during the war, how quickly they had to grew up, you watch how one of them had to watch the other walking down a quickly crumbling path, being alienated by the world without being able to help, you watch how they lost each other, before finally finding each other again after sixteen/thirteen years. And then you can finally watch how soft they are with each other, how in-sync they are, the trust, the devotion, the willingness to stand by each other against the whole fucking world. And as I already mentioned before, because of the censure law in China, you’ll never can’t and will never get to see Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian say “I love you” to each other on the show. It still manages to convey “I love you” in every other possible way without having them actually say the words. I mean at this point it can’t even be considered subtext... It’s plain text written in bold underlined font that can be read in every single one of their interactions, and sometimes even when the other isn't even there, [It's basically subtitles! Hah! Okay getting out of there].

It helps that the chemistry between the two actors is absolutely mind-blowing. And the acting is nothing short of amazing. If you’ve been in the spn fandom then you might know that Jensen is king of the micro-expressions ... well I’m afraid that he has been dethroned by Wang Yibo (Lan Wangji’s actor) in my mind.

But really, wangxian is not the only relationship worth mentioning in CQL/MDZS. One of the other huge highlight in my opinion is the several siblings dynamics. There are about seven sets of siblings among the whole cast and because shitty, shittier and shittiest parents were apparently the norm for their generation, we get to see the trope of “eldest child basically raised their younger siblings” in five different flavors. Of course the main focus is on Wei Wuxian and his siblings, but it doesn’t mean that you can’t see the sheer care and protectiveness oozing out of the other four sets of siblings. As someone who loves family bonding (and especially found families), I really appreciate the fact that among those sets of siblings, there are some that are related by blood, some who are half-siblings and some who are not related biologically but consider themselves siblings regardless. And while all their relationships are different - because they are different people - they all do share the same love for their siblings. “How far are you willing to go for your siblings?” “How much are you ready to sacrifice for them?” The show answers those two questions in various all throughout the story in a more or less oblique way, and right there lies the motivation behind a lot of the characters’ actions, good or bad. Their relationship with their siblings is actually one of the major driving force of the characters (Wei Wuxian among them). And I love it, because it shows that love comes in a many, many forms.

The overarching themes

“What’s right, what’s wrong? Who’s good, who’s evil? Who’s strong, who’s weak?”

In such an elitist society who will judge you at the drop of a hat (especially if you have the bad taste of coming from a more unfortunate lineage), how can you define the difference between “right” and “wrong”? Wherein the midst and the aftermath of a blood thirsty war, the distinction between “good” and “evil” more often than only lies on where you were born and/or your family name rather than where you actually stood or what you did in the war. This right here is the very huge underlying theme that is being woven throughout the show/novel. Not only are we, the viewer/reader, invited to think/judge for ourselves based on the actions of the characters... But our main character, Wei Wuxian verbalizes those doubts and questions explicitly a few times and implicitly in the stand and choices that he decided to take. And due to Wei Wuxian’s influence, Lan Wangji who is used to follow his 3000+ rules on a daily life basis without ever questioning them, starts to do so. (“Do not befriend evil.”, “Be righteous.” ) What does it mean to be righteous? Must the notion of righteousness always align with general opinion? How do you define the ‘evil’ that you are not supposed to befriend? Is my definition the same as yours? Is my definition the same as the rest of the world? And if it is not the case, does it necessarily means that I’m in the wrong? And the very obvious answer to those questions is “No, there is no visible line between ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, ‘good’ or ‘evil’... Nor is there any universally agreed on way to act in order to fit in one category or the other...” And this answer is illustrated in all the ways those numerous characters are depicted: their love, their hatred, their fear, their pain, their joys, their tears, their motivations, their frustrations, their shortcomings, their hidden or not so hidden agenda, their flaws... All of them are depicted in such an awesome and wholesome human way. They are not fully good or fully bad, they are human, with all that it entails... Main characters and main villains included (or rather, I’d say especially them) [Though the show tended smooth and cover this aspect a little bit more than the novel in my opinion]

“Don't you understand? When you’re standing on their side, you’re the bizarre genius, the miraculous hero, the force of the rebellion, the flower that blooms alone. But the second your voice differs from theirs, you’ve lost your mind, you’ve ignored morality, you’ve walked the crooked path.” (Jiang Cheng)

Another theme that is strongly address here is the matter of “Public Opinion”. Despite (or rather because of) how fickle it is, public opinion, rumors (no matter how unfounded) could so easily ruins your reputation, your standing. And if you loose their favors than all your previous actions (no matter how praised it had been in the past) would be seen with a blackened lens. I remember feeling as frustrated as Wei Wuxian at the lack of logic, the rhetoric employed and the sheer hypocrisy that had been portrayed by the mass. I think that there is one character that can be easily recognized as the pure personification of “Public Opinion”, he is without a doubt meant to be the “voice of the mass, of the bystanders whose opinions shouldn’t really matter but actually does a lot”. I won’t tell who it is, it’s pretty obvious if you watch the show... And I think that we are meant to feel annoyed at such characters. I think we are meant to be as frustrated as that one character who at a mass gathering tried to make a stand, tried to do the right thing, but was quickly shut down with dubious rhetoric and blatant disregard because their voice didn’t carry enough power. And last but not least, the show/novel broaches the issue of how social standing is considered very, very much dependent on your circumstance of birth. Like I said before the cultivation world in CQL/MDZS is inherently elitist. In order to be able to cultivate you must learn the proper techniques and at a quite young age. But it is not something that you could do on your own unless you’re some kind of genius or prodigy. Which means that you must attract the attention of a nearby sects or begs them to take you in as a disciple. It means though that you’ll probably start a little later than the disciples that were born directly within the sect [inner disciples], meaning you’ll probably end being weaker. However even if by some truly dedication and perseverance you manage to the same level as the inner disciples, you’ll still only be seen as an outer disciples, nothing more than cannon fodder in the eyes of society. In all the major sects, there is a distinctive mark, objects that only disciples coming from the sect family line are allowed to carry, as an irrevocable sign of their high standing in society and their inherent privileges. There are some exceptional circumstances though where someone of low birth status might reach this elitist sphere. But no matter how high they reach, how outstanding they are, in some way they will always be reminded (sometimes behind their backs, sometimes subtly, sometimes right in their face) of the stigma of their birth. There are three characters in particular, whose journeys mirror and foil each other a lot. And I think it is very interesting to see this “son of a prostitute” or “son of a servant” or “street rat” or “bastard” advanced through society. They all received very different upbringings, despite all starting more or less at a low point. And I liked that the way they decided to live later on and how they tackle/handle the cultivation world is very much reflected and influenced by their upbringings rather than the circumstances of their birth. It brings up this very strong message that, if they are the way they are it is not because of who their parents are, but rather how the people around them reacted to them. The way they are right now is not the fruit of their birth but a direct consequences of the rejection/acceptance of society. And so when you look at them, you can’t help but see their journeys as a three forking road paths reflecting the other like twisted mirrors. You look at their actions now, then back their different circumstances and you can’t help but think “Ah, that is what might happened if things were different.” [There is a reason that canon-divergence and time travel fix-it are my favorite tropes... my bias is really showing here... haha] And it really, really hammers on the importance of kindness in the face of misery and discrimination. Kindness and acceptance at the right moment, no matter how small can change everything. Sometimes, something even as small as a candy.

The movie sets and props So I mentioned before that the budget of CQL really wasn’t that high and they had to make choices. And I could only applaud their choices, because really, wah! Just look at the main sects locations, the scenery, the backgrounds. It’s so beautiful!! [Had I had any gifing talent I would have included them so that you could get the full mind-blowing experience... so I’ll just send you to @gusucloud blog, where all the gifs and edits are amazing, (Cloud Recesses here and Lotus Pier here) and in this post have my lame-ass screenshots instead.]

The fine details, the workmanship in most of the props in the background, the swords!!! *Incoherent flailing*

[I didn’t manage to get any close-up of the swords... but believe me, they are piece of arts!]

The music

The soundtrack of the show is absolutely amazing and beautiful.

You know how in movies and tv shows couples always seem to have “a song”... like “Oh! Look our song is playing!”... Weeeeeell...

Wangxian do too and it’s literally their song, as in their actors are singing it. You can of course hear it in the ending, but... but! I think the way it was used within the episode was very striking. It’s one of the many ways the producer teams managed to convey the romantic aspect of their relationship. And it was very well done.

Wuji, by Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo

Wuji, instrumental piano + flute + Zither version

Just imagine, dude just resurrected from his 16 years of deadness and you see him moping at night by playing this beautiful tune with a freaking leaf... just because he saw some cultivators wearing the same uniform as Lan Wangji... So at this point you know that this song might means something but well, you don’t really get it...

The second time you hear this tune, we are on a mountain, and it’s through a bamboo flute that Wei Wuxian used to appease and calm down an agitated corpse [who he apparently knows]... He is luring ‘it’ out to a safe place, so he is playing the song while slowly moving back one step at a time. Then his back suddenly bumps into someone... This person catches his hand. The flute playing abruptly stops and the full instrumental version with piano+flute is suddenly blaring out in the background. And then it’s as if the whole world stops as they gaze at each other, while the music keeps playing. And really, you might fully understand the weight of their gazes, or their history, but you know that it’s there... That’s the moment where you look at them looking at each other, grasping at each other wrist, where you can still hear their song in the background... and can only go “Oh. Oh.” [Then of course a purple ball of pure anger just had to come and interrupt them. Excuse you, they were quickly having a moment there. Kidding aside, It was such a nice scene, it’s hand down one of my favorite scene of the whole show, and the music played a really huge part in my opinion.]

And if it wasn’t enough to hammer it down. The third times will definitively do it. So both of them are fifteen years and meet each other for the first time, when Wei Wuxian goes to study at Lan Wangji’s sect. Of course there first impression of each other is disastrous, what’s with Wei Wuxian insisting to come inside despite having lost his invitation and Lan Wangji clearly stating that no one is allowed without invitation. Of course it doesn’t help that after running back to fetch his lost invitation, Wei Wuxian snuck in after curfew (breaking a protective ward on his way), while smuggling two jar of alcohol. All of the above are forbidden in Cloud Recess, by the way. So our boy just casually broke three rules and then who catch him, right when he is climbing over the wall? Lan Wangji, who’s on patrol, of course. [Like I said, disastrous first impression]...And so after frostily listing all the rules Wei Wuxian broke not even five minutes in , Lan Wangji tries to bring Wei Wuxian to be disciplined. Wei Wuxian, of fucking course, resists. And the two proceed to fight (sword and all).

Cue their song playing as they cross swords on the rooftop of Cloud recesses, under the light of a full moon night.

If that is not a meet-cute I don’t know what it is.

Anyway this song is played many, many more times in the show and I’m not talking about them because I don’t want to spoil anyone.

Also as an aside, they don’t appear in the show... But there are character songs that have been recorded. Some of them sung by the actual actors and other not. And while all of them are really good, if there is absolutely one that you must listen to, it’s “Bu Wang” by Wang Yibo the actor of Lan Wangji. Make sure to watch the official MV only after watching the whole show (because it’s spoilery) and to activate the cc for the lyrics translation. It’s such a beautiful and painful song; and a very insightful reflection of Lan Wangji’s character. I love it.

Lan Sizhui and A-Yuan

No argument or explanation needed, you’ll see when you get there. I dare you not to like those small fluffy cinnamon rolls!

The Junior Quartet

Okay those ducklings deserve a whole sub-section on their own. Not only because they are all amazing kids but because of what they represent.

What is really great here is that since the story takes place over the span of 16/13 years, you get to see three different generations at various stage of their development. In the past you get to see the parents generation at their sum-up while there child, the following generation [Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji etc] from their teenage years to young adulthood. Then in the present you see the teenagers reaching the age their parents were (more or less, probably slightly younger) and the next generation (the ducklings) about the same age as Wei Wuxian’s generation were at the beginning. And the juxtaposition between the two pictures is just so, so very telling because the differences are glaring.

I’m going to borrow the words from qrbat who wrote this wonderful fanfiction, “tell some storm” on ao3.

The parents generation was a generation of Pride and Greed, it was a generation that lauded standing your ground no matter what and refusing outsider help. They were the generation which raised their children as a “generation of War”. A war that they started and that their children, teenagers, had to fight and end for them. And in comparison the junior generation seems so unexperienced so soft... and that’s a good thing, because it means that those children hadn’t had to experience the hardship of war, hadn’t had to grow up so fast because they basically didn’t have any decent parental figures to help them. Instead of perpetuating the cycle of hate and war started by their elders, the generation of War raised the next generation as a generation of peace, as a “generation of Love” and acceptance.

And it is amazing because the juniors, simply by being who they are, are embodying this message from Wei Wuxian’s generations to their parents “See? This is what it means to parent. I had to sacrifice my childhood and innocence to fight your war and I still managed to raise such amazing and kind children, what was your freaking excuse? I will not be like you. Times are changing and they are changing for the better.”

*Look at length of the post* *snort* Right. Okay, would you believe me, if I told you that in the beginning this post was supposed to be an appreciation post for all three of MXTX’s works and not just MDZS because I was afraid it would be too short? Yup so turned out I had a lot more things to say than I thought. Please feel free to react or just message me about anything MXTX’s fandom related... I am desperately in need of friends to discuss with about MXTX’s stuff!

#mo dao zu shi #mdzs #mdzs appreciation #cql #cql appreciation #the untamed #mxtx #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mine

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yukipri · 5 years

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So I’m back from the dead (literally). A Goodbye Message.

Hey there. Some of you may remember me.

Some of you may have wondered why I suddenly stopped posting, but the vast majority of you probably didn’t even notice, as is how it is. ^ ^;

I’m finally back, and it wasn’t an easy journey getting back.

Here’s what happened.

(Slightly long post, but please forgive me for not putting it under a cut, it’s sorta important)

On November 19th, I checked my blog as I always do, to learn that my blog was terminated.

No warning, no reason, suddenly BOOM gone. I’ve had this blog since spring 2012. It’s almost entirely sfw, I’ve always been hyper careful with tagging, and any questionable content has always been hosted on other platforms. Yet for some reason, I was one of many blogs caught up in what’s come to be known as the #TumblrPurge.

I followed all the steps. I emailed staff, first desperately, then more rationally, making my case. I figured that a bot had caught my blog, as I knew plenty of other more suspicious content blogs that were unharmed. At first there was hope, it’s just a glitch, it’s happening to a lot of people, they’ll give it back right away, some people have already gotten theirs back!

Nothing.

My methods of contacting followers were limited to my Patreon and Twitter, neither of which has much of a base. Followers who knew me on there were incredibly kind and supportive, and sometimes even reached out to staff on my behalf.

I didn’t want to spam, but I also was desperate. I emailed staff once a week. I tried using different categories. I tried adding attachments. My messages ranged from simple and succinct, to deeply personal and desperate.

I was honestly devastated. I spiraled into the worst depression I’ve ever been in. I could barely eat and vomited nonstop for a week. I gained 20 pounds in 2 weeks. I was completely out of control mentally, and even reached out to a psychiatrist friend in case I couldn’t handle it myself. I couldn’t draw, and thinking about projects that I once loved only hurt me more.

Talk about social media addiction, but I’ve legit never gone longer than a week without posting something for years, and especially since becoming a content creator, it felt sickening to not have the place where I drove myself to post constantly and consistently. It broke my schedule. It made me feel cut off from the world, and I felt claustrophobic and uncomfortable in my own skin.

I lost so many things with this blog. Yes, I was primarily a content creator, and while of course I had backups of all my art and some of my longer text posts, I lost so much more.

I lost, perhaps most importantly, all my interactions with my followers. I lost connections to so many people, people I hadn’t contacted in years and may not have even been active anymore, but who I always believed I would have this route back to. I lost memories, both online and of my personal life that I had recorded on here.

And as someone who unfortunately put so much of my identity and self-validation on my social media experience, I suddenly felt like I was absolutely nothing.

For the longest time, I thought I was su*cidal as a result of my depression (word bleeped out bc who knows what can get you flagged now). I certainly thought about death and dying daily.

But then, I realized what I was feeling wasn’t quite that. I didn’t feel like I wanted to die.

I felt like I was already dead.

Which, may sound like an exaggeration, but in terms of tumblr at least, it’s exactly the same. If I had died in rl, I would have dropped off the map, just like this. Suddenly stopped posting, no warning in advance. My blog may have existed, but in this case, no record of my existence even remained. To people who came looking for my url, I may as well have been dead. You wouldn’t have known any better.

Or who knows, maybe I was a criminal or had done something awful that resulted in my blog being removed. Maybe I had just had it with this site and had chosen to leave. Maybe I was just taking a much needed break. It would have been odd, since I prioritized communicating and always said when I needed a break, which was rarely ever. But either way, I had no way of telling any of you what had happened to me. My voice was gone.

Feeling like I was dead, after I recognized what I was feeling, was...disturbing, I guess. Kinda explained why I always felt like a corpse though.

(of course, feeling like I was dead contributed to thinking other things like maybe it’d be better if I really wasn’t around at all, but that’s a result, and not the main feeling.)

Anyway, I kept emailing staff, and I finally managed to come back. It took ten emails and over 2 months of waiting and wasting away and trying to come to terms with how I’m unlikely to get it back. I didn’t get my blog back until TODAY.

Now that I have come back, the landscape’s changed, as I had heard it had. They hadn’t even announced the adu*t content policy change when they terminated me. I honestly feel like I’m back in a world that’s moved on without me, and it’s made me feel very strongly how insignificant I was in the first place.

During my time being dead, I had a lot of time to think about what I wanted to do. I regretted not doing my 25K follower giveaway sooner. I regretted not getting this or that content out. I regretted having kept certain long text posts and ask responses in my drafts yet unpublished.

But more than anything, I regretted not being able to say goodbye, and thank you all for my time here.

Yes, it’s had ups and downs, but tumblr was where I first found myself as an artist. Tumblr was what first made me interact with and find a group of people interested in what I created. Tumblr was where I was able to interact with those people, you. And I know I’ve had my ups and downs too, and different fandoms and different moods, but I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for letting me be a part of your experience here, however big or small that experience may have been.

I also learned the dangers of immersing myself too deeply on one online platform. So much of myself had been poured into this one blog, this one blog that can disappear with a legit snap of staff’s fingers. (my twitter handle was “Got Thanos’d on Tumblr” for a good month lol) I used to think that’s what made my content valuable, that I poured so much love and thought and everything personal into it, that’s what made it special, but in the end oh so very damaging when it was ripped away. As someone who spent almost all my time online creating content, it was an awful reality pill I had to swallow, and I don’t want ANYONE experiencing the same thing I did.

So please. The takeaway here, if I can be a cautionary tale, is to be aware that an online identity is more unstable than you think it is. It can go POOF. I’m lucky to be here, and that staff finally responded, and that I had the masochism to continue emailing staff weekly no matter how much I felt like I should stop breathing afterwards.

Also, please, if you have people on this site you care about, whether it be a friend or someone you think is neat, anyone you will miss if they suddenly disappeared, please go connect with them in other places beyond this site, which may become increasingly unstable. This can be another social media if they have it, an email, a chatting platform, anything. Even if you personally don’t use it yet, create an account so you can find them when you can no longer access your account, or they can’t access theirs and they can find you. Don’t regret it like I did.

As for me, after all of this, I don’t know if I can post content on here again.

I’d gone well beyond hoping for another chance at this community. All I’ve been thinking about these past two months was how I would have wanted to say goodbye.

Now that I have my account back, I’m currently filled with more numbness and bitterness than any joy or relief. I don’t know if I can create content anymore for a platform that has hurt me so deeply, no matter how much its community means to me. This experience changed me, and I’ve taken damage that isn’t going to go away so easily.

As I think about what to do moving forward, for now, you can find me on my accounts that I WAS active on these past two months. They aren’t the same, but they were all I had.

If you read this message until the end, thank you.

Again, I might decide to post on here again. I might not. But for now, here’s again what I’ve been wanting to say for two months:

Thank you, Tumblr. And goodbye.

-Kazu

(yukipri.tumblr.com)

https://twitter.com/YukiPri_Art

https://www.patreon.com/YukiPri

#personal #TumblrPurge #longpost #long post #yukipri #I didn't stop posting because I wanted to ^ ^;#i had posts in my drafts waiting to be queued for the day i got terminated #it feels so long ago now though and i feel so detached #Also kinda random but i was feeling like this really weird affinity with ghosts #i kept coming up with dead people AUs AHAHAHHAHAHA #like currently I'm super into Banana Fish right #and pre-termination I was all about everyone lives happy AUs #post termination suddenly I was a lot more interested in people staying dead but like lingering around and having regrets #it felt a lot more relatable all of a sudden AHAHAHAHA

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falseroar · 5 years

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Goretober Day 2: Demonic

((Day 2 of @purple-anxiety-blog ‘s Goretober prompt list! I originally planned to do something with Actor Mark or Darkiplier, but instead have George the Groundskeeper, dealing with things that are very much none of his business.

Warnings: Blood, vomiting, references to off screen deaths))

George had seen many people come into that old house whose grounds he cared for, and many less come out. It had been almost twelve years to the day since he himself had the misfortune to enter those halls, and he prayed it would remain the last time.

After all these years, he knew his warnings would go unheeded. Every new owner smiled and nodded; no doubt sure the groundskeeper who came with the place had spent a little too much time out in the sun. Still, he felt he had to say something, to give them a chance to do the smart thing for once and just turn around and leave.

This last owner had the gall to laugh in his face three months ago, but George had shrugged it off and thought no more about it. His business was the grounds, after all, and he preferred it to stay that way.

But it was hard not to notice the day the car pulled up in front of the house and a man dressed in black from head to toe except for a slim white collar around his neck stepped out. The priest looked up at the house with a grim determination that George had seen time and time again, before he turned around to pull out his large black case and paused at the sight of the caretaker, leaning on his shovel and watching with mild interest.

“Do you work here?”

“No, I just like digging,” George answered, the sarcasm coming faster than he could be bothered to stop it. “Worked here going on twelve, thirteen years I suppose? Hard to keep track these days.”

“What do you know about this house?” the priest asked.

More than you would ever believe, if you’re lucky, George thought, but said, “That it ain’t worth going in there. Did the owner call for you?”

The priest hesitated and then nodded. “I have been called to—”

He was interrupted by the owner himself, throwing up the front door and practically running down the steps to greet the priest. He shook his hand like it was a life preserver, his distracted greeting soon giving way to dire whispers as he led the priest inside.

George sighed and shook his head.

Not his business.

Just as it wasn’t his business hours later when thunder split the air hard on the heels of a bright flash of lightning, despite there not being a single cloud in the sky.

When the doors slammed open, only one man came out. He walked in a daze, his blank, staring eyes barely registering the step his foot caught on as he dragged it and himself in a straight line to the car. There he stopped, and crumpled in on himself.

“Thought you might need this.”

He startled at the sound of George’s voice, but could not bring himself to look away from the house for long, not even as the groundskeeper sat down next to him. Without a word, the priest reached out a shaking hand and took the offered bottle, downing it so fast there was no way he could possibly taste the contents. Good thing George didn’t bother with the good stuff.

Despite the blood soaking his black clothes and staining the once neat little white-collar crimson, George couldn’t see anything wrong with him other than his probably sprained ankle. At least, nothing physically wrong.

When the priest finally came up for air, he tried to pass the bottle back to George, but he waved it off. The priest sat there, hand around the neck of the bottle, eyes still on that house as he said, “They’re dead. All of them. The owner, his wife, the staff…”

“It happens.”

The callousness of George’s voice caused the priest’s eyes to flicker toward him, briefly. “No, what I saw in there, it doesn’t just ‘happen,’ there was—There is something in that house. Something demonic, something…But you knew, didn’t you?”

“I know dying isn’t the worst thing that can happen in that house.” That would be something walking out that hadn’t walked in before, but George kept that dark thought to himself. Better if the man didn’t know what fate he and the others had been spared.

The priest shuddered. “I saw…someone, just before I walked out. I thought it was the owner, but…it was hard to be sure.”

He took another gulp from the bottle, for all the good it did. “Hard to tell though, without his eyes, and with that—with that smile—”

The priest’s chest heaved and he turned away. George grimaced and took the bottle away, and after a moment or two gave him a pat on the shoulders.

“Yeah, best to get it all out now,” George said, trying to ignore the sounds and the smell. After all, it was nothing he hadn’t done after the last time he left that house.

He didn’t comment on the priest’s words about the owner--the former owner. George knew the signs well enough to know that whatever had happened to him in that house, whatever he had become, would not be leaving those walls. It would burn through him before it came even close. If it came to it, stopping that thing from getting out is the one thing, the only thing that would get him to go back in there now.

“We should…we should call someone,” the priest said weakly, once his stomach was empty. “The police…”

“Won’t find anything,” George answered. “Once that house has its hold on someone, it ain’t letting go. Found that one out the hard way.”

“Won’t find—No one could miss it! The bodies are everywhere, or what’s left of them. There were…some of the bodies, they were missing—”

The priest turned away again, but George doubted there was anything left in his stomach to come up at this point.

“And it’ll all be gone by the time that door opens again. Whole house, spick and span and ready to lure another set of fools in,” George said. When he saw the disbelief in the priest’s eyes, he added, “You can check for yourself, if you want.”

The priest glanced at the house and shuddered, his hand moving to cross himself but losing heart halfway through.

They sat there in silence for a while, just looking at that house. So beautiful and grand on the outside, but inside…

“I should go,” the priest said, eventually. “Whatever you think, someone needs to be told.”

George helped him up to his feet, which the priest needed. Even without his ankle, which he could barely put any weight on, he was still unsteady, still trembling so much the groundskeeper wondered if he would even be able to hold the wheel.

“Sure you don’t need to wait?” George asked. “There’s a shed on the grounds, away from that place. You can rest there, if you need to.”

The priest shook his head. “No, no I’ve been gone for too long as it is. It’s been…days, weeks? I don’t even know anymore, but someone’s bound to start worrying, and I don’t want…”

Didn’t want anyone he knew getting too close to this place, George knew, but he said, “It’s only been a few hours since you drove up here.”

“What?” The priest paused in the act of opening his car door to stare at George. “No, no, that’s impossible, I…”

He refused to listen as George tried to assure him it had been only hours, and soon drove away. George didn’t know what happened to him after that, only that the next person to arrive at the house was not an officer or an exorcist, but a realtor with a ‘For Sale’ sign. The house didn’t even stay on the market for a week.

It wasn’t any of George’s business.

Just as it wasn’t any of his business when the couple arrived, young child in tow. He tried to warn them, but even the little kid just looked at him like he was crazy. And, as the years passed into decades, even he wondered at how long they lasted. The kid, soon joined by another, seemed happy enough, and when as a young man his parents passed away, no one could say it was more than just an unfortunate accident.

Then one day, as George saw the new young master of the house pacing around on one of the upper balconies, shoulders hunched and eyes dark with some quiet thought, it clicked:

The house had been waiting, planning. Patient.

George’s hands shook momentarily on the handle of his shovel, but he gradually pushed the thought out of mind. After all, it was none of his business.

#goretober #markiplier #fanfic #pre-wkm #wkm george

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skarletterambles · 5 years

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The Mummy Returns Re(-re-re-re-re-) watch blog

I might be short a few “re-”s there, as I know I saw this four times in the theater, and plenty of times on DVD, but close enough.

Below are my thoughts, typed as I watched (while eating the pizza leftover from last night’s viewing of the first movie)...

[Disclaimers: Spoilers for both The Mummy (1999) and, obviously, The Mummy Returns (2001) Expect lots of squeeing and/or crying over Imhotep/Anck-su-namun.]

And here comes The Rock in his first film appearance. All those big movies he’s been in since owe a debt to this one. *insert sound clip of “You’re Welcome” from Moana*

Anubis needs to feed his warriors better. They’re way too skinny.

Got to love the detail where there’s a carving of Anck-su-namun and Nefertiri in ritual combat on the wall Evy and Rick are excavating. One of those things you don’t notice on first viewing.

“No harm ever came from opening a chest.” Evy, I know you’re doing a cute callback, but you were there when the Americans suffered the consequences of opening the canopic jar chest in the last movie.

Since Evelyn is actually the reincarnation of the Bracelet’s official guardian, why did her taking it trigger the booby traps? I guess that kind of role doesn’t carry over.

Oh joy, more scarab beetles.

I know we have to be able to recognize him, but it’s silly that Ardeth was spying on the Hamunaptra digsite with only a hood on. Someone--especially Meela--would have recognized his face tattoos. ... Wait, did I just suggest covering up that gorgeous face? Never mind!

Rick/Ivy = relationship goals

Meela: “And your point is?” Jonathan: “My point is I told you so you wouldn’t kill me!” Meela: “When did we make that arrangement?”

I wonder if she collected her snake before they left. Otherwise the O’Connells (or their housekeeping staff) will have a nasty surprise later.

I could listen to Rick, Ardeth and Jonathan bicker and banter all day.

Notice how Alex gets annoyed when Rick ruffles his hair. So it’s not just Imhotep’s head-ruffles he hates. Heh.

In my drooling over Rick, Ardeth, and Imhotep I had almost forgotten that Lock-Nah is built like a brick shithouse. Nice.

There’s a camera shot that appears to show the POV of Imhotep inside the hardened goo. So I guess he could tell what was going on...sort of.

Both Alex and Evy recognize Curator Hafez from their time in the British Museum. There’s room for some wacky prequel stories there.

I love that little “Eew, whatever,” reaction from Hafez when Imhotep is done declaring his love for Anck-su-Namun. LOL

I still want to know how Meela managed to snap her fingers with her gloves on.

Imhotep recognizes Rick and roars “YOU!” and Rick clips him in the shoulder with a hail of bullets, knowing full well it won’t hurt him, just as a big “eff you, too.” Love it.

LOL @ “Honey, whatcha doin’? These guys don’t use doors” and “Oh, I hate mummies...” So many funny lines in this part.

That’s twice--no, thrice--the bad guys have drawn blood on Ardeth tonight. Leave him and his glorious body alone, you big meanies! :P

Alex has a good point: props to Jonathan for driving that bus safely through all that mummy battling. (Well, mostly safely. Better than I would have done, anyway.)

Ardeth geeking out over his first bus ride is too freaking adorable for words.

I just noticed the parallel between Rick hanging on the edge of the drawbridge, near tears in desperation as he watches the kidnappers driving away with his son, and, well...you know which scene. Sigh.

I could watch that flashback kiss between Imhotep and Anck-su-namun a dozen times on repeat...if I could manage to time it perfectly so I could rewind before he morphs back into a mummy. Because eew. LOL, but eew.

Imhotep tried to be nice to Alex, talking to him as gently as he could (which is still raspy and scary, but he was trying) and explaining how the bracelet works, and in return Alex told him how his dad would kick his ass. I don’t blame Imhotep for taking off his mask and scaring the kid then. :p

Then Imhotep takes off his robes before attacking the mercenaries. Freedom of movement? The cloth wouldn’t survive the magic regeneration? He wanted to be naked because he knew his girl was peeking through the door? All of the above? Who knows?

LOL @ Meela squeamishly tip-toeing around the desiccated corpses of the mercenaries. It’s worth it to get to the now-normal-looking Imhotep, though. ;)

I want to slap the editors for inter-cutting the big, romantic reunion with Alex tampering with a filthy toilet.

I know Imhotep wanted to stop his minions from shooting Alex, but yeeting those guys into the pillars was totally unnecessary. I bet he was showing off for Meela.

... And I was too busy holding my breath and freaking out during the big duel/regicide flashback to type anything. Oh well.

I did notice one moment where Imhotep is watching the women fight and something goes wrong for Anck-su-namun and he gives this little involuntary gasp. Subtle, but neat.

What I like to refer to as The Look(tm) is such a great moment, though. They actually slow down the film as Imhotep and Anck-su-namun make eye contact, drawing out that stolen, subtle moment of intimacy just like it must have felt for them. *swoon*

Back to modern times... Once again Imhotep watches out for Alex by making Lock-Nah put him down and stop threatening him. I mean, yeah, he’s also about to try killing the boy’s parents, so he’s not perfect, but still... I thank that attempted head-ruffle was his way of apology... *polishes villain-fangirl goggles*

It’s been awhile since I mentioned how breathtakingly good-looking Ardeth is. But he is. Just sayin’.

Imhotep looks conflicted and even a little sad when Hafez says they don’t need the boy anymore. He doesn’t give the order to kill him, either. Just makes a vague statement about needing the bracelet. It may be a coincidence, but he even smirks right after someone says “The boy!” (i.e. Alex is making a run for it). It could just be my fangirly brain playing tricks, but I really think a case can be made for Imhotep having a soft spot for the kid.

I see Jonathan has learned the “scream at things” technique from Rick. Alas, it didn’t save the red-robed guy from the pygmy mummies. (I swear I know that actor from somewhere... The red-robed guy, not the pygmy mummy.)

I can’t believe I still get a tiny bit misty-eyed at Evy’s death. I’ve seen this movie at least ten times, and even the FIRST TIME I knew she wasn’t going to stay dead. But man, the actors sell it.

I just noticed that after he loses his powers, but before he takes off his black robe, Imhotep and Anck-su-namun were holding hands while walking through the pyramid. Awwwww!

Mighty brave of Rick to attack Imhotep without knowing he had lost his powers. Luckily Imhotep’s split lip bleeds, tipping Rick off right away...and then the blood disappears in the next shot. Yay, continuity!

Everyone remembers the Scorpion King himself as being the CGI lowlight of the film, but those Anubis warriors don’t hold up very well, either.

God bless Arnold Vosloo for doing this fight scene in a loincloth. I’ve read how punishing it was to film without the padding that Brendan Fraser had under his costume, but the eye candy was worth the sacrifice. Heh.

I was too busy watching to type much during the climax, but that’s just as well, as it’s hard to articulate “YAY NO OMG WOOHOO NO LOL WHAT AAAH YEAH NOOOOOOOOOOO DAMN IT.”

After the Anubis army went poof I was like, “Okay, great, we won, let’s all call a truce and get out of here before anyone else gets killed.” But did the stupid movie listen to me? Noooooo. Instead, there are Rick and Imhotep, hanging onto the cliff for dear life.

Time for the worst experiment in reverse psychology ever: Rick: “Go! Save yourself!” Evy: *does the opposite* Imhotep: “Help me!” Anck-su-namun: “does the opposite*

Sigh.

Fight or flight is a deeply ingrained response, and I just can’t bring myself to hate Anck-su-namun for going with the wrong reaction in that moment of panic. It’s simply another facet of the tragedy that is their love story. That doesn’t make it hurt any less to watch, though. There are tears in Imhotep’s eyes right before he lets go. Actual tears! Even Rick and Evy look like they feel sorry for him! Aaah! I can’t take it!

As he was letting himself fall I maaaay have screamed at the TV, “Don’t make me write fanfic to fix this--oh wait, I already did.” Heh.

Better luck next reincarnation, you two.

Then the good guys escape and live happily ever after, yada yada yada. The end.

(And no, we don’t speak of the third movie. It doesn’t exist. I saw it once, was amused by Jonathan opening a nightclub called “Imhotep’s,” and found the rest totally frustrating and forgettable. So nope, there are only two movies in this series.)

#the mummy

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miniatureclover · 4 years

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Faraway Wanderers Reading Blog: Chapters 06-10

I AM BACK! Maybe I’ll be able to finish this live blog series before the live action comes out? Hopefully?

Chapter 6: The Beauty

Gu Xiang and Zhou Zishu are way too much together, ha. They also make a good team, surprisingly, even with Zhou Zishu having to bow out of the fight part way (throwing the same “poor fragile me” excuse Gu Xiang used right back at her…except he actually means it since the fool is literally dying a slow death by nails). He’s also a good teacher, and her a good student, and this really isn’t helping him lay low but ah well, I guess that flew out of the window once this whole mess started.

The fight scenes are pretty good, too. Gu Xiang is young and confident, but absolutely brutal and not afraid to use hidden weapons. She has good reflexes and instincts, though she is still young, and that’s reflected in her panic when she loses her weapon and getting overconfident. Contrast that with Zhou Zishu who is very observant and picks up some stones to help her out when he has to rest, and you can see the clear difference between them as people with two different experience levels. It’s really neat how the narrative manages to mix the characters’ life experiences, personality, and age into the way they fight without giving it away explicitly.

She blinked in astonishment — this ragged man’s ramblings worth diddlysquat, but his execution in battle was one of the cleanest and cruelest she had ever seen. It really made one wonder who he was.

Really throwing that image out the window. Guess it’s lucky he was nerfed by the nails, huh. And it turns out that our main character is also a rather brutal fighter, when he can fight without collapsing.

And here enters Wen Kexing, finally with a proper name! What an entrance. He’s already kind of a creep with no sense of personal boundaries, ha. He’s also really, really perceptive though. In a creepy way (who says “your shoulder blades are beautiful, therefore your face must also be beautiful”?? he’s such a ridiculous flirt).

Alas, we are left wondering whether Wen Kexing is really blinded by good looks or just very perceptive after Gu Xiang says that he has a tendency to exaggerate.

Chapter 7: Setting Off

Oh gosh, this poor boy. Protect him, he is precious. I’m talking about Zhang Chengling of course, who starts the chapter off crying because he has seen a lot of stuff go down, like his entire family dying to start things off, followed by people coming to kill him and a seemingly random beggar agreeing to deliver him somewhere safe? But, alas, might as well cry yourself a river while you’re at it, kid. It’s going to be a rough ride now that he’s stuck with this ragtag group.

Wen Kexing is such a clown. He has his wits about him, but he is such a clown with a punchable face. Zhou Zishu isn’t actually much better in terms of acting like a normal human being interacting with smaller human beings. At least Zhang Chengling is resilient. He bounces back quickly and continues to pester Zhou Zishu to become his teacher. He does still have nightmares, which makes sense after all he’s been through.

But he seems to remind Zhou Zishu of someone from his past, which is interesting.

Back to why Zhang Chengling is a precious bun and must be protected: after having nightmares and believing he’s woken his savior up, he says things like “I can…I can stop sleeping if it’s a problem?” That is not actually a legitimate solution to the problem, believe it or not.

Then some enemies arrive with a superpowered guqin/zither, which is hilarious no matter how many novels or dramas I encounter considering traditional guqin with silk strings aren’t very loud instruments (the description from the first sentence of the next chapter is right in that it’s more of a “thin” sound than other instruments).

Chapter 8: Moonshade

Wen Kexing is indeed an enigma, the perfect match for Zhou Zishu who is undoubtedly one himself. In between his moments of eccentricity, he provides a lot of insight to the martial arts world, the way he conveys the harshness of life in it striking a rather eerie note (Wen Kexing’s voice was gentle, “Even if he’s still alive, all of his meridians have been broken; he’s useless now. Death would be a happier fate for him.”) and slides right out of it a moment later.

This match also speaks to Zhou Zishu’s capabilities: injured, he managed to beat Qin Song who is apparently well-known for his ability to kill people with that zither, and with a crudely constructed flute at that.

He felt a particular aura from this man that suggested they might be birds of a feather, the other would definitely not do something if it didn’t benefit him. […] After lots of thoughts without any solid conclusions, he scoffed at himself — old habits died hard.

You two are indeed birds of a feather, glad you noticed. I do like how he slips back into old habits, after all, he only recently stepped away from his former life as a spymaster, it’d be difficult to put a stop to all of his old tendencies.

They even proceed to exchange a few moves, presumably to figure each other out, until the pesky nails driven into Zhou Zishu’s torso act up, which gives Wen Kexing an opportunity to be a creep and touch his face. Half of it makes sense, since he’s convinced Zhou Zishu is “a beauty” and hiding it somehow, but he seems the type to have done such a thing even without that reason.

This exchange is hilarious though:

-What’s my face made of? -Human skin. -It feels like it’s one with your body… -Well, I was born with it, so.

…I should hope so. These two are a comedy duo in their own right.

Gu Xiang continues to be a delight, in any case. She has no reserve about making smart comments as soon as Wen Kexing’s back is turned, probably knowing he can still hear her at a distance.

Finally, three days later, their little party manages to make it to Zhang Chengling’s father’s friend, but we’re only on chapter 8, which means there’s much more chaos to be had in their future. For now, Zhou Zishu is relieved he finished his self-imposed mission and gained some “merits”, but muses on how it’s exhausting to be good person, haha. Indeed, the world doesn’t make it easy sometimes, especially not the crazy martial arts world they live in.

Chapter 9: In the Woods

Name info-dump, I guarantee I will remember none of them. It does fill out the world and fits with Zhou Zishu’s character, since his job required him to know all the nitty-gritty details of the major players in the martial arts world.

Ultimately, the exposition serves to let us know why he decides stay in the manor for a bit, as he’s well aware that Zhao Jing and the rest of the people grouping up at his place aren’t as glamorous and gallant as they seem. Also, he’s already weak to Zhang Chengling’s puppy eyes, apparently.

Zhao Jing is catching onto the glaringly obvious hints at Zhou Zishu being far more than a random beggar, and his manipulation of Zhang Chengling’s eager to please nature might be a bad sign of what’s to come. Zhou Zishu is more than prepared for a little investigating into his real identity, and the deception runs deep enough that he has a whole fake history and job to go along with his name.

Zhou Zishu endures a round of social BS-ing, aka attempts to dig for information on him, which is explained in a really succinct manner: although the greetings and false praise are absolute bullshit and not genuine in the least, they do serve a purpose, which is to sort out who has relations with who, and who is an outsider to be wary of. It’s a good point. The boot-licking is a standard in the genre that emphasizes the importance of saving face and social relations. The author summed it up well.

After sitting through all that, Zhou Zishu decides he has stayed long enough and departs under the cover of night, except he can’t shake Wen Kexing off his tail, much to his annoyance.

I’ll admit, these two characters don’t draw me in quite as much as some of priest’s other protagonists, but their dialogue is a goldmine:

-“Escorting the young master Zhang is purely for gathering merits, so that I won’t have to endure any tortures in the Underworld after death. -“Correct, Brother Zhou truly shares the same mind with me; and as only beautiful people can do that, it is clear-” -“See, my dear soulmate, another chance for merit gathering has appeared.”

They continue bickering until they find a corpse in the forest, aaand this is where our plot kicks off!

Chapter 10: Netherworld

“Someone killed the Lord of Duan Jian Manor, and I’m a charitable person who wants to gather merits, so why not. And I’m bored anyway.”

Ha. And Zhou Zishu catches onto his BS right away, suggesting he might want to chase after Sun Ding because he’s the most powerful of the culprits who ran off. It’s hilarious how well-matched these two are, and how they just roll with each other’s ridiculous commentary.

Despite not wanting to get involved, Zhou Zishu can’t help it. His detective senses are tingling and he figures there’s nothing to lose since he’s a dead man walking.

However, their pursuit leads them to another dead body, and they take off after the person fleeing the crime scene until they reach a cemetery. Of course it’s a cemetery, haha. The person they were pursuing also disappears mysteriously. The whole scene is fit for a horror movie, complete with laughing animals.

Now, to be fair, and I’m not sure if this applies to owls, but some animals like foxes have truly terrifying vocalizations (one variation sounds like a screaming woman, for one). It’s no wonder people used to think demons and spirits existed. Unlike western depictions of the owl as a symbol of wisdom, among other things, in Chinese culture they’re apparently bad omens, at most used to ward off evil spirits.

Wen Kexing is so random and dramatic and loves to talk, haha. He tells a short story about owls being omens of death, then about locust trees being considered the door to the underworld. They really do find an underground cavern and river beneath the tombstone.

So! We have met our two main characters, become well-acquainted with their propensity to hide their true identities and incessant bickering when they’re together, and set the stage for solving a murder mystery. Decent progression for 10/78 chapters. I really love priest’s writing, which is always a delightful balance of pleasant and poetic description between good, distinctive dialogue and forward action to progress the story.

#faraway wanderers #tianyake #reading blog

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fluffycabbages · 4 years

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Chapter 4 : The Davis

Story is available on Wattpad, Solved

“What’s more interesting is she was Roger Smith’s fiancée. The tattoo on Mia’s upper limb matched Roger Smith’s but he had not mention a single thing about her to the press. He was even seen entering the same house and holding hands with Vanessa. Mia planned to poison Vanessa to take revenge because she told us Roger Smith did not want to be with Vanessa, he was forced to do so. He told Mia that Vanessa promised to help him in his modelling career and ordered him to not expose his relationship with Mia to the press because it will affect his reputation. Mia even confessed she knew Wendy was a left hander too unfortunately Wendy did not drink the tea.”

“But how was she planning to poison Vanessa then?”

“She said she already brewed a pot of Vanessa’s favourite tea with potassium cyanide in it. She planned to give it to Vanessa whenever is the right time but when she saw Vanessa had amnesia, she decided to let her live.”

“Such a kind act from a murderer. Is that all?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh wait. Was Vanessa faking the amnesia thing all along?”

“Yes. She said she saw Mia pouring potassium cyanide into her favourite tea and figured having amnesia will at least make her have an excuse to not drink it.”

“Ah. The actual smart one is Vanessa then. Who would have thought?”

It was currently 5 o’clock in the afternoon. Normally we would be thinking what to eat for dinner at this time but we were so tired from all the thinking.

“I’m going to take a nap. Wake me up when it’s dinner time.” I told Ethan as I walked into my restroom.

Ethan was smart. He knew we were definitely going to spend a lot of time in the agency so he made sure there are 2 restrooms in the agency.

My feet felt cold. I tried to find the blanket to cover them but my hands don’t feel the usual soft and fluffy sensation of it.

“Ugh!” I grunted as I squinted my eyes open. It was then a pair of bright hazel eyes met mine and I was finally fully awake.

“Great to see you awake now. Get prepared. Breakfast is on the table.” Ethan said.

I looked around. It obviously looked like it’s the morning. Oh gosh! I slept through dinner.

Sitting on the table, I saw Ethan sitting opposite me, I decided to ask him, “Why didn’t you wake me up for dinner last night?”

Ethan was hiding a laugh while replying me, “I did but you didn’t want to wake up.”

I’ve decided not to ask Ethan anything about last night as I have a feeling of him embarrassing me if I do so.

Being a person who cannot stay still, I asked him, “Are we going anywhere in the afternoon?”

“College.”

“Why?”

“Cause we have class. Don’t tell me you totally forgot about it?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No. I did not forget such a thing. How can I forget that I have class? I was just testing you.” I answered, trying hard to hide my surprised face.

Days passed by peacefully and I have a feeling of something going to happen.

While sipping my iced coffee, I asked Ethan, “Hey Ethan, do you think it’s a bit too peaceful?”

“Isn’t it good for you? So you can go around and have fun.”

I cursed Ethan in my head. Does he need to be this straightforward everytime?

Just then Ethan’s phone rang, I saw the name “Office Jones” flash through as he picked up the call.

“Officer Jones. Yes. Okay sure.” He hanged up the call and told me, “Come on. There’s a case.”

We arrived at a pleasant looking house based on the address sent to Ethan by Officer Jones. The house looked clean and tidy as if it was recently renovated. It would be great scenery if the police cars and people weren’t crowding the house. There were so many people standing behind the barricade tape, tipping on their toes trying to look inside the house.

“Oh you guys are finally here! Come in and help me. This case is weird.” Officer Jones saw us outside the house and called us to get in.

He told us, “There were 4 victims, all dead. Their bodies are already sent to the hospital.”

Since the house was not really near the café we were when Officer Jones called Ethan, we arrived at the crime scene quite late.

We walked around the house and the furniture were placed in a weird layout. At first I thought perhaps the owner of the house has a unique perspective in his furniture placements until we entered one of the bedrooms of the house. It looked like the master bedroom.

There was a king size bed, a bathroom and a small space estimated to be the wardrobe. Everything was neat and arranged in order. Then it hit me, they most probably had a fight in the living room.

There was blood on the bed.

“The owner of this house and his wife were found dead here. They were shot in the head.” Officer Jones saw the look in my faces and told us.

Except for the bed, everything in the room looked neat as there were no signs of struggles or fights.

“Officer Jones, what did the victims’ bodies looked like?” Ethan asked Officer Jones.

“Both bodies were tied together at their wrists and ankles.”

“Any other injuries other than gunshots?”

“No.”

We moved on to the rest of the rooms in the house. Nothing abnormal about them.

I’ve been wondering where the other two bodies were found, so I asked Officer Jones, “Officer Jones, where were the other two bodies found?”

“The basement. Follow me please.” He replied and gestured us to keep up.

There were 2 foldable stools in the middle of the basement. I quirked an eyebrow and looked at Ethan.

Officer Jones told us, “The other 2 victims were found here, with their wrists and ankles tied together too. But they died from suffocation.”

“How did they suffocate?” I asked.

“Their necks were placed at the gaps of the foldable stools. Since they weren’t able to move, they couldn’t break free from the stool.” Officer Jones answered while showing us a photograph taken before the bodies were sent to the hospital.

Oh my! My face paled. The culprit is definitely not a normal and healthy person. At least not mentally healthy.

Ethan wanted to know the full story, so he asked Officer Jones, “Officer Jones, who reported the case?”

Officer Jones explained to him, “It was this house’s owner’s eldest son, Aaron Davis. His class dismissed so he returned home. He opened the house door but wasn’t greeted by mother’s like usual days. So he looked for them in the house and found them dead on the bed. He contacted the police-”

“Sir, the phone line of the house has been cut off.” A police walked in and told Officer Jones.

“It was a planned murder then.” Ethan said without hesitation.

Link to blog :

detectivecrimestories.blogspot.com

Link to story at blog :

https://detectivecrimestories.blogspot.com/2020/01/chapter-4-davis.html

#crime #crimesolving #detective #love #romance #dangerous #mystery #serialkiller #bestfriends #friendship #college #youngadult #adventure

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thefantasysuite · 6 years

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Arie’s Bachelor Preview

Finally. Maybe it just seems longer because I didn’t post much during ette or paradise, but it’s about time we got some new info on the OG of dating shows. The cast has finally been released. I’m going to assume that like me, your heart skipped a beat when you got that google alert stating as much. I glanced at a few pictures, but have held off reading anything about any of the ladies to make sure I captured first impression. You wouldn’t stand out there greeting each as she comes out of the limo and then get black out drunk and not remember what you first thought the next morning. Unless of course you are a contestant on this show and have already stalked the bachelor for months on end. In that case, pass the alcohol.

If you’ve followed this blog at all you know I like to stay away from off season drama. You had your 15 mins of fame. As Mr. Wonderful eloquently puts it:

But since it’s the season of giving I’ll give you a quick update on last year’s bachelor, Nick. Him and Vanessa broke up. The end. But seriously, this is what they looked like right after they were able to make their ‘arrangement’ public:

Yeah. Good job convincing everyone that was going to last.

Alright Moving right along. The bachelor this year is Arie Luyendyk:

I don’t remember feeling strongly about Arie one way or another when he was on. I do remember feeling strongly about the bachelorette that he was chasing after however:

Back to Arie. He comes from a family that likes to race cars. The F1 circuit to be precise. For all intents and purposes I’m going to group that in with NASCAR because the jokes are easier. Matt and Trey got 22 minutes out of making fun of NASCAR:

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I can do a season of the bachelor.

Arie’s bachelor announcement doesn’t come without some controversy. He may have broken up with girlfriend right before he became the bachelor:

http://www.etonline.com/exclusive-arie-luyendyk-jrs-ex-girlfriend-says-she-was-blindsided-bachelor-casting-their-breakup

It also appears Arie has a type when you look at his ex compared to the former bachelorette:

Enough about Arie. Let’s see the skanks that will be racing after his heart (get used to a bunch corny puns relating to his former profession)

Ali

Ali is a personal stylist. Got a quick tip for Ali. Next time ABC offers to have their professional stylist help you out before your headshot, don’t say “I got this”. The most embarrassing thing she listens to is Nickelback. While unrelated, please check out this clip of another Chad Kroeger fighting his local government to keep house parties a god given right:

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The Beastie Boys would be proud

Amber

3 people dead or alive you’d like to have lunch with. You can tell a lot about a person in how they answer. Starting your list off with Kim Kardashian says more than enough. What can you possibly ask her in which the honest answer isn’t “sex tape”? How did you get so famous? Sex tape. How did you break into the industry? Sex tape. What drove your step dad to become a woman? Sex tape

Annaliese

I feel like Annaliese misunderstood the question 5 things you can’t live without. She listed 3 different types of food and 2 emotions. I think the producers are looking for you to say something like wi-fi and your favorite hoody. She also listed Miley Cyrus and Chrissy Tiegan as people she would want to be. Guessing there isn’t much going on upstairs with this one

Ashley

Ashley looks super boring. Doubt she makes it past night 1. She hates doing laundry because it takes her a week to go from washing her clothes, to folding, to putting them away. Pft. I leave that shit in the dryer and go grab a pair of socks and underwear as needed. Amateur

Becca K

Becca has quite the jawline on her. Hopefully she has a smokin hot body. Becca is a publicist. You know who was also a publicist? Fucking Shauna:

Something tell me Becca is publicizing people more like Johnny Drama and less like Vincent Chase

Bekah M

Bekah is very intriguing. This might be a first, but her age isn’t listed in her bio. And I really want to know what it is. Her profession is nanny so I would assume she’s pretty young. But past contestant Corrine also had a nanny and she was pretty old. I know it’s because of the hair, but I’m getting a Morena Baccarin vibe:

I’ve got my eye on this one

Bibiana

I’m guessing Bibiana has quite a bit of personality. This has to be the girl other girls hate, right? She’s an executive assistant and former NFL cheerleader. I vote Bibi as most likely to tell everyone that she isn’t there to make friends and to start calling Arie her man

Bri

Bri is a sports reporter. I needed to look it up to be sure:

Now I’m not saying someone that’s already been on TV can’t fall in love with someone else on TV. But if she gets to the final 3 this season, fans like her, and a sideline job happens to open up with ABC she may have her eyes on a prize other than Arie

Brittane J

At the risk of making an off(on)-color joke, I’m going to guess that is a new way to spell Brittany. And is she winking? Lunch with 3 people dead or alive she went with Whitney Houston, Bernie Sanders, Beyonce. When the bill came Bernie made sure that Whitney Houston’s estate paid for her meal before the new tax bill gets rid of the death tax. (Hey. She got political, not me)

Brittany T

Seeing her listed as Brittany T confirms that the previous girl does pronounce it as Brittany. This Brittany would like to have lunch with Chris Evans, Hillary Clinton (shudder), and Beyonce. When Chris Evans goes on a coke binge he better hope he stays away from the bathtub to relax afterwards (See Whitney Houston above). Also, do you think Hillary ordered a side of beef at lunch? I remember when she got chucked into a van like a side of beef at a 9/11 memorial ceremony:

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#neverforget

Caroline

I’m out on Caroline. She doesn’t have a dog yet, but can’t wait to find someone to “co-parent” a dog with. You would be a dog owner, not a parent. I bet she also can’t wait to “play house” with Arie. She’s going to be that girl that Arie tries to have a serious conversation with and can’t stop giggling while talking about how much fun they have together

Chelsea

Chelsea is boring and generic. Sticks out in no way. Not pretty. Not ugly. Thinks France is the most romantic city. Listed grade school sports as something she did competitively (read: unathletic). Likes warm weather, but not too warm. I don’t see anything here. I suspect an early pass (racing jokes) from Arie

Jacqueline

I’m trying to figure out who Jackie looks like. Right now I’m stuck on a poor (very poor) man’s Winnie Cooper:

I don’t think that’s the right answer, so I am open to suggestions. I also kind of wanted to look up Danica McKellar so I’m not mad. This will never work out though. She keeps talking about her career and how important it is to her. Career first women don’t win. They usually become the bachelorette. Not that I’m suggesting that will happen. Just that she has no chance

Jenna

Jenna is a social media manager from Indiana. Speaking of, I need to fire mine. When she eventually reads this post I expect https://twitter.com/thebachtweets to be updated with the new season flair. Jenna’s favorite show is Friends. I’m going to diagnose her as Monica. Looks like she is bubbly, can provide some comic relief when necessary, and probably has a nerdy brother named Ross that keeps finding ways to screw up everything with his much hotter girlfriend. How you doin’??

Jenny

Jenny’s most afraid of picking the wrong person to marry. I guess you can’t make that mistake if the bachelor picks you. She probably has nightmares about being the bachelorette. Many of her answers indicate that she’s outdoorsy and loves adventure. She looks just the opposite. Maybe her idea of camping is hanging out in a motor home watching netflix while a fire burns outside

Jessica

Jessica’s occupation is television host and I immediately couldn’t wait to look up which show. Then I saw she was from Canada, which isn’t real tv. Is Degrasi still on? But then I looked her up and it’s worse than Canadian tv host. She has a youtube channel called Jessica Carroll TV.......(So what if I watched the video ‘Get Pool Party Ready). So we have smoking hot girl living in LA that’s used to the camera. Guess who might get called out first for not being there for the right reasons

Kendall

I feel like Kendall has a drink in one or both hands of this picture. This chick is weird. If she could be any animal she went with bat. Most romantic gift was an alligator hand holding an iron heart in a jar because she collects taxidermy. As long as it wasn’t an alligator holding a human hand. Carl Weathers would have been pissed:

Krystal

Krystal is one of those fitness nuts. I feel like that’s a profession/hobby that never does well on this show either. She says she is most afraid of unused potential. Lol. She must moonlight as a life coach. Trying to remember back to when Arie was on the bachelorette he didn’t strike me as a real go getter. I feel like Krystal is going to push him to be better and Arie will end up channeling his brother in name and hit her with:

Lauren B

I think Lauren B goes far. Pretty girl. No weird answers. What is my first rule about going on this show? Don’t be weird. She has a second degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do. By the way, whatever happened to Billy Blanks?

Lauren G

Lauren has the real descriptive occupation of executive recruiter. Her favorite tv show is ‘This is Us’. I’ve never seen an episode, but based on the people that watch it and from what I’ve heard it sounds like one long ass chick flick. It’s like tv networks needed to try and scoop up the ‘Parenthood’ audience that loves mushy feel good/make you cry stories and we ended up here. Those shows are the worst (And no, the bachelor is not the scripted reality version of those shows).

Lauren J

Lauren is honest. Asked if she’s neat or messy, she concedes to being messy. Doesn’t like playing games with guys, just tells them how she feels. Eats full meals in bed. Can’t live without mascara. She’s also 33 so no time to beat around the bush. I think she’ll end up getting super jelly when she sees Arie making out with other girls. I’m gonna say she ends up in the top 5. Arie wants a young girl to parade around for a little while. Lauren is probably trying to have kids tomorrow

Lauren S

The run on Lauren’s continues. We’ve got another social media manager on our hands. It’s funny thinking back to the first season of the bachelor and knowing how that job wouldn’t have even existed. When asked if she could be anyone in the world she went with ‘anyone in Taylor Swift’s girl squad’. You wouldn’t want to be....I don’t know....Taylor Swift instead? Not very lofty girls for this one. She’s an early out

Maquel

Maquel? Whatever. Guess we are just making names up at this point. Her favorite holiday is Halloween. She loves dressing up and creepy/scary stuff. I’m guessing she is more Cady and less Regina:

Marikh

Maybe the weirdest answer to a question that I’ve seen:

What? So you don’t want to accidentally confirm an incorrect assumption? Keep in mind that she was asked this question, had time to think it over, decided to go with that. I think Marikh might break down if asked where she wants to go to eat. “I love Olive Garden but I hate their breadsticks and salad and pasta so let’s go there”

Nysha

Nysha looks like she’s embarrassed to take this photo and have an official Bachelor headshot that will live forever. I don’t see Nysha doing real well this season. Her answer on favorite tv show and fictional character comes off as a bit “I don’t need no man”. Try not to make a scene when you don’t get a rose

Olivia

Olivia is 23. She looks even younger than that. Favorite book is 50 shades of grey. Not sure she was old enough to read that when it first came out. Do you think she secretly hopes Arie has a sex dungeon? Probably would have been a good intern for Matt Lauer.

Seinne

I’m going to guess that Seinne is this year’s Rachel (you know what I’m getting at). Favorite tv show is Game of Thrones. I don’t care for the show. Watched the first season and couldn’t believe I wasted that much time. Don’t get the appeal at all. If I hear Dilly Dilly one more time I’m going to fucking lose it

Tia

Tia could win this year, be the girl that everyone hates, or be the next bachelorette. I’ll know by the end of the first episode, but right now I have no clue. I’m looking for key things in her answers and she says ‘sassy’ as well as having gone to a swingers resort. I’m going to go with the one everyone loves to hate. But I reserve the right to change my mind

Valerie

Valerie is a server in Nashville (failed country music artist). She’s 25 and has over 50 Halloween costumes. Maybe she celebrates it multiple times a year. I just hope she doesn’t have that thick twang when she talks. That’s so annoying

There they are. The desperate fame whores looking to make their mark January 1st. I do wonder about airing the premiere on the 1st. I know there isn’t a ton of crossover between individuals when it comes to the bachelor and college football, but I can imagine a fight or two between couples when it’s the football semi-finals vs bach premiere. The game airs on ESPN which is of course owned by ABC’s parent company of Disney. I would suggest holding off a week but the national championship game is played that next Monday.

See ya after the premiere

- Nick

#The Bachelor #arie

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