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werewolfnightwalker · 1 year

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Soulmate AU

Tw for lots of death

The first life they met in, he was royalty, flattered and spoiled and bored. And he was a thief, a highway man that halted fancy carriages and forced them to hand over baubles and gems.

Caught by the guards and hauled to prison, they met when the prince was exploring the dungeons.

"What did you do?" The prince asked, enraptured by the rugged prisoner with eyes as gilded as the coins he pilfered.

"I lived." The blonde thief sneered.

"And what a life, to end up behind bars." The prince replied sarcastically.

"Indeed, it was a riveting tale." He laughed.

So the prince sat outside the cell, and asked him to tell his story. He shared his own, although his was not as thrilling. Each day, the prince came down to visit, to talk of their lives and bring news of the outside world. Occasionally, he brought things for the thief; snacks, sweets, a book or two to keep him entertained.

Then his visits came each night, when the guards were lax with patrol and it was unlikely for them to be over heard. When the prince could sit against the bars and reach through their gaps to touch, and the thief could do the same.

But this was only the first life. They'd scarcely shared a first kiss when the thief was hauled to execution, and the prince... stories say he died of a broken heart.

When they met again, he was a sailor. He'd scale the mast and watch the sunrise, feel the salty wind on his face and imagine that he could fly.

And the other... well, he was a buccaneer. Ruthless and bloodthirsty, he roamed the seas with a fleet at his command. They met in battle, as men screamed and ships burned and blood splattered across the deck. As cannons fired, their swords clashed and eyes met. Their battle snarls faded, if even momentarily.

"... Do I know you?" The sailor asked, puzzled.

"Unlikely. No one ever meets me and lives." The pirate spat, his eyes as bright as the stars that guided them both.

"A pity."

They killed each other that day, their meeting even more brief than the first.

But the third... Oh, the third time.

He was the son of a wealthy ranching man, their mansion lording over acres and acres of valley and forest. He sat on the porch and sipped sweet tea in the morning as he watched the other ride through the valley, as fast as the hawks that circled the sky, whoopin' and hollerin' to make the cattle drive into the next pasture.

He watched him sweat under the unforgiving texan sun, watched him ride his horse right into the cattle's drinking lake to cool them both off.

And at night, when the cattle were in the barn, when his horse was resting and his clothes were dried, the garments were thrown to the rich son's floor as they grappled in his plush bed, giggling and whispering so as not to be caught.

It was passionate and secret and divine, lots of whispered promises and soft kisses that ended in them holding one another, tangled in bedsheets as their sweat cooled across naked bodies. When the sun rose, the sun-eyed stablehand snuck out to the bunkhouse to keep up appearances.

They didn't know, yet they knew. They knew each other in a way neither understood, they treasured every moment before it all, inevitably, ended in tragedy.

And, inevitably, they were found out. As he screamed and cried and begged his daddy not to, the stablehand was dragged out on the lawn, and a shotgun was leveled between his brows. He looked up at his lover, one last time, before his blood spilled on the grass and the gunshot drowned his lover's screams.

It wasn't a week later that the rich boy hung himself out of grief.

The fourth life was kinder.

College sweethearts, they met in a cafe during a study session. Rivals in academics, in the race to be their school's valedictorian, but that didn't extend outside of lessons.

Their love was allowed here, allowed and slow and deep. Late nights in libraries, in parks, at parties, all ended in each other's arms.

After school, it was barely a year before he popped the question. And it was barely three after that, when he was diagnosed. Terminal, the doctors said. In and out of hospitals, forced to watch as his snowy-haired lover's health declined, but never leaving his side.

He was there with him, in the end. He held his hand and kissed his cracked lips, promised he loved him and they'd meet again. He never loved or wed again, whispering his husband's name on his dying, aged breath.

In the fifth life, their current lives, they find themselves as opposites again. One, a hero, with crimson wings and a charming smile and enough adoration to take his pick of the crowd. The other, a villain. A wrathful, lonely soul, burning under scars and staples.

When first they met, there it was again. That recognition, that knowing. That echo from the past.

"... You know me?"

"Of course I know you. You're a famous hero."

"No, I mean... you recognize me, don't you?" He stepped forward, his steps guided by lives past, "I recognize you."

Their eyes met, as they had through prison bars and across clashing blades, from the other side of the valley and over the tops of books. As they had in lives so unremembered and so long past that they were uncountable now.

"... Yeah. I recognize you. Are we really doing this again?" Both moved, until they clutched each other again, halves of a reunited whole.

"Don't you want to?"

"This won't end well, Keigo." He cautioned.

"It almost never does, Touya. But it'll be another riveting tale, don't you think? One we can share when we meet again."

#conans writing #dabihawks #dabi #hawks #mha hawks #touya todoroki #keigo takami #soulmates #soulmate au

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killianczuba · 5 months

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Either my mast cells are throwing a rager or some uninvited guests crashed a dinner party in my body. Regardless, everyone has gotten real rowdy, and I'm worried both that police intervention will make things crazier and that this metaphor might be really confusing to people who are not me.

In this scenario, the uninvited guests are viruses and the police are white blood cells, and I guess my mast cells are...we'll say firefighters, who may or may not be off-duty (clearly depending on the scenario).

No one knows who is getting punched or why--just that someone pulled the alarm and it probably needed to happen.

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hakesbros · 1 year

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fresh-widow · 2 years

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I flew to NY for the first time since my mom died, July 2017. It was not easy. My senior dogs are in precarious health. Both have some form of cancer. Paisley’s senior anxiety diagnosed as Sundowner’s, AKA doggie dementia. I was gone 5 days and the price paid is emergency surgery for Paisley. Her leg mast cell tumor has been bleeding copiously. This divided my friends in half- half Princesses, half Queens. Princesses emote their drama. They are disgusted and fawn a sort of sympathy that suggests I put P out of her misery. P is not there yet, I say, we have a relationship and will know when it is that time. The Queens are far apart and few in between because they are true, caring, and skilled. Q is such a friend and came over to help me bandage P’s hind leg. But I digress.

I landed, for the first time, in Albany just in time to get dressed and go straight to my sister’s 60th bday event. An outdoor concert featuring a Dead cover band who played their own songs too which sounded like Dead songs. I had microdosed, and was in an up mood and my sister did twice as much as I did. My nephew and his friends arrived later and livened up the party. I had a long conversation with one man F who was on the same page as I was about the miserable state of the medical industrial billionaire controlled late capitalist corporatocracy. After awhile, I had to run away from this guy. Nice but he monopolized my desire to chill which I eventually got to do, sitting with a friend of my sister’s (depressed) and my nephew ( I get along better with young people who are not so hypnotized by fear politics.) The music was the same music from high school, 45 years ago.

The next day, Sunday, my sister’s friends came over for brunch. The topic of conversation was about local bands or medical ailments and procedures. Later I had a conversation about shamanic healing with a lawyer who told me about his friend who was cured of a cat allergy. In turn, I told him about my year after B died, having a rice reading w a traditional shaman, being cured of chemical sensitivity, and sleeping outside until the dark force in the stairwell went away. He was more than amused and I am glad I don’t live in that town. My good sister is skeptical of my beliefs. She has beliefs but not necessarily the big picture. Cigarettes, antidepressants and fear create a sort of mass formation as hypnotized by personalized television news.

Her boyfriend is alternately nice, insecure, solicitous, critical, and hyper. There is a coffeeed out neurosis stemmed by adult beverages and not enough exercise. But a decent fellow. Monday he planned to take us out n a friend’s boat. Mercifully for the weather app I discovered Tuesday was to be hot as fuck in NYC so I changed my mind to go there Memorial Day Monday. The next day I took the 5:15 am Amtrak to the city and meandered from Penn Station through the fashion district, down 14th, through the west and east village, soho, little Italy, Chinatown, Canal St, across the Brooklyn Bridge and over to Clinton Hill. About 7 miles, all told, my legs almost gave out upon return to the Amtrak Station just in time for a falafel salad before returning to Albany in the later evening.

Next day my sister lent me her car and I drove to MA to see my SIL who showed me her latest painting coursework and I did a lousy paint8ng which she fixed by demonstrating cool brush techniques she learned recently. We talked about dating and other stuff, she is a fun like minded human being, very generous and caring. Then the next day I visited my longest time friend, J and her offspring, A, on their new goat farm. We talked metaphysics, farming, art, politics and about preferring a few good friends to people in general. Time can pass for decades but when we get together it is timeless as we are cut from the same cloth.

#widow #grief/mourning #friendship #travel #metaphyics

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springallergyblog · 2 years

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Exactly How to stop Food Allergic Reaction Symptoms

Food allergic reactions are triggered by antibodies called immunoglobulin E (IgE). These proteins respond with the allergen and create the mast cells to launch chemicals which cause the various signs and symptoms. Some allergens can not be damaged down in the body by warm, tummy acids, as well as gastrointestinal enzymes and also may cross into the blood stream, causing an allergy throughout the body. For these reasons, individuals with food allergies may experience itching or hives, along with intestinal problems and also wheezing. Food allergy signs can be prevented by staying clear of the foods which cause the allergic reaction.

The good news is, this immunotherapy anderson sc is currently readily available and FDA authorized. It can be hard to stay clear of particular foods, yet it is feasible to regulate your signs and symptoms. Typically, it is best to intend ahead so you can pack allergy-free food in your bag as well as have it handy whenever you pursue dinner. You might even wish to take some of your approved unique treats to parties. See to it you inform key individuals of your food allergic reaction to make sure that they understand what to plan for you. Your medical professional might perform an elimination diet plan to examine for food allergic reactions. This includes staying clear of all suspected foods for 15 to half an hour.

However, if you observe any signs and symptoms that linger after the removal diet plan, your doctor might purchase examinations to gauge your body's reaction to various types of foods. If you experience allergies this way, your medical professional might recommend other means to avoid direct exposure to the allergen. In many cases, food allergy is not a severe problem. In addition to fish and also seafood, there are other usual allergens. As an example, seafood and also peanuts are extra typical irritants than fish and also tree nuts. Many people with hatreds these food items may also have cross-reactivity with different foods.

For instance, a person who has an allergy to shrimp might likewise dislike oysters, fish, as well as tree nuts. While the latter two are extra severe, peanuts as well as tree nuts can trigger isolated oral signs. However, severe nut allergies call for a referral to an expert for allergy monitoring. If you think that you have a food allergic reaction, speak with your family allergist taylors sc about acquiring an epinephrine auto-injector. These can aid you prevent the dangerous response. Food allergic reaction can additionally be triggered by another issue - gastric condition. This condition is typically incorrect for a food allergic reaction.

Gluten allergy is various than a straightforward food allergic reaction, as well as is triggered by the visibility of gluten, a sort of healthy protein that is located in numerous foods. It is vital to avoid common allergens by reading labels thoroughly. Food labels must identify the irritant's resource. It can be mentioned on the label under the common name of the ingredient. The allergen needs to be stated at least once on the tag. Depending on the item, it may be in parentheses adhering to the ingredient's name or in the "includes" declaration. The FDA calls for makers to identify these foods if they have a background of allergic reactions. Check out this post https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hives for more information about this topic.

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lechronicbionic · 6 years

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When ur doc asks you to give a brief explanation of ur medical history

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chaseatinydream · 3 years

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pirate king (4) || atz

You’re sitting at a tiny cove.

Your legs swing along the rocky ledge of the cliff you are on, dangling into the water. Beneath you, the water sparkles like liquid emeralds. Bright, colorful fish dart here and there around your feet and you laugh.

You leap down and there’s a splash, you’re waist deep in water. You move forward and forward until you’ve reached the mouth of the cove and the water comes up to your chin.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and submerge yourself.

Something soft and gentle brushes its way along your arms and you giggle underwater, bubbles escaping your mouth, but it’s of no concern to you. The soft arms caress you gently, as if you’re a precious treasure to them. You open your eyes.

Something stares back at you, glowing the colour of blood. It’s massive, almost twice your size, radiating some sort of curious light in the middle of the dark mass it’s in. Then it hits you.

It’s a single, unblinking eye.

You jerk awake with cold sweat running down your back and immediately regret it as you feel your head split in half from a sharp throbbing in your head. You groan, keeping your eyes tightly shut as you cradle your head in your hands, waiting for the pain to subside.

Something tugs lightly at your shoulder. No, not rope. Cloth? You start to panic when you realize that you are no longer tied to the mast.

Are they intending to kill you now?

“Ah, you’re awake.”

Your eyes fly open and you immediately shy away from the voice, pressing against the wall next to you. Your legs instinctively curl up to your body and you let out a cry of pain as your ankle knocks into wood.

“Don’t move, idiot.”

You look up to see the man talking to you. He’s tall and lightly built, dressed in a simple, oversized tunic and knee length shorts. Around his neck are a few silver chains, with strange symbols you don’t recognise, and his hair is a soft grey-green. Everything about him throws you off, he feels soft and reserved, nothing like a pirate.

Then you see the short dagger strapped to his left thigh.

You press against the wall more tightly, turning your face away from him. If he’s going to kill you, it might be more bearable if you can’t see it coming. You feel the tiny rocking of ocean waves.

“My name is Choi San, but you can just call me San.” The man begins to introduce himself, seating himself in a chair opposite you. You’re in a bed, you realize, as he continues to speak. “I’m the healer on board the Treasure, so I was responsible for treating your wounds. It’s admirable how you managed to keep quiet about a badly twisted ankle, an infected musket wound and a raging fever all at once.” There's something unsaid left in his voice.

You swallow.

“Especially for a woman.”

You freeze, all movement ceasing in a single second. Your hands unconsciously move up to your chest, only to find it unbound underneath a couple of layers of fabric.

Oh shit.

You’re definitely going to be shark food now.

“I haven’t told Hongjoong yet, if that’s what you were wondering.”

Your head whips around to stare at him in shock. His expression hasn’t changed the least, he still wears the same unreadable, blank face and you can’t tell whether he’s joking or he’s being serious. He has no reason not to report to the captain his findings, so why?

“It’s not my business that Hongjoong-ie is so blind he can’t tell the difference.” The healer leans back in a sturdy wooden chair, steepling his fingers with a calm gaze. You can’t tell whether that is comforting or terrifying. “Besides, I have a cat’s nature and I find my curiosity difficult to satisfy. So, if your story entertains me enough, I may keep your little secret from the captain. But I can see that you’re bursting to ask questions, so ask away.”

“Who undressed me?” Are the first words that tumble from your mouth. San chuckles at your question.

“Me.”

You groan in embarrassment and hide your face in your hands, unable to face him anymore. He snickers in amusement, and even though you can’t see it, his smile dimples his cheeks.

“No need to feel shy.” The man remarks, even though you can hear the mirth lingering in his voice. “I didn’t look. I just changed your bandages daily for the last two days.”

“I’ve been asleep for two days? That doesn’t make it any better.” Your words are muffled behind your fingers and you know your cheeks are tinged pink. “It’s still embarrassing.”

“I had to check you over for injuries.” San explains logically as you peer at him between the cracks in your fingers. “Who knows what else you might be hiding? I cleaned your wounds with salt water solution and bandaged you. As for your ankle, I splinted it with driftwood but don’t expect to walk normally for the next five to ten days or so.”

You gulp. Five days is more than you can afford.

“Is the captain going to throw me overboard?”

“As if I’d let him.” San’s complete indifference to Hongjoong’s authority surprises you, but you suppose even the captain needs to be on a healer’s good side in case he ever gets injured. This explains the sizable room and bed for the healer. Still, the informal way he addresses his captain is a little shocking. “He’s not going to waste all that effort I put into treating you. I used the last of my marigold petal antiseptic on your arm and he’d better get me more at Tortuga.”

You manage to stifle the tiny giggle that leaves your mouth, but San hears it anyways. He smiles slightly. “So, what’s your name?”

You pause, then answer as truthfully as possible.

“I don’t remember.”

To your surprise, San doesn’t try to call you a liar or force you to tell him some other answer. Instead he ponders your words carefully.

“That’s a common symptom among those who have head injuries. I was just telling Yeosang about them a few days ago.” You don’t know who Yeosang is, but you nod in understanding. You’re a little relieved that he seems to believe you, but is this a ploy to make you lower your guard? “They’re short term, but the memories usually come back after a few days or weeks. I don’t think I’ve met many who’ve forgotten their own identities though. Those usually die a few days after.”

“What?” You choke and suddenly you start coughing, your throat dry and scratchy. San reaches for a mug you hadn’t noticed before on his desk and passes it to you, filled with a fragrant green tinted liquid you don’t recognize. You can’t hide your suspicious look.

“It’s jasmine green tea.” San explains as he sits down again. “It’s helps calm the nerves and is also a fantastic cleaning solution for wounds as it prevents infection, but I prefer drinking it. My shipmates would rather ingest grog.” He sniffs in distaste and shakes his head. “Hongjoong knows what’s good for him, though. We’ve stayed in the cove for a couple days more because some of the scouting parties found tea leaves growing on one of the hills nearby. The rest are hunting deer with Shiber so we can have fresh venison tonight. It makes a nice change from eating preserved food all the time.”

As he continues to ramble about how some of the crew have started setting out nets to catch some fresh fish, you take a sip of the tea. It’s a little bitter with a warm, grassy flavor. You don’t enjoy it very much, but the next available option, grog, sounds even more unpalatable, so you choose to down the whole mug.

San pauses in his talking to nod his approval. “You’re a smart one. Anyway, as I was saying, the men usually die soon, but that’s because of internal bleeding in the skull. I found blood clots when I cut their heads open.”

You almost spit out the tea. “You cut their what open?”

The healer shrugs. “They’re already dead, so they don’t feel a thing.” When you continue to give him dubious, horrified looks, he starts to explain. “It’s for medical research! What I’m trying to say is, they don’t die because they lose their memories, they die because of the wound that caused them to lose their memories. From what I can see, you don’t have any such wound.”

“That’s reassuring.” You manage to say, thumping your chest. San nods.

“Captain said you claimed to have woken up in a prison cell in Raguza, am I correct?” He asks and you nod. San seems like a kind person and is the only one who is willing to help you. Then you pause.

“Raguza?” You repeat, unfamiliar with the name. San dismisses it with a wave.

“The town we raided a few days ago.” He explains, before carrying on. “He also said that you claimed to have no memory of how you came to be wearing the coat of a Royal Navy officer.”

You nod hesitantly. Even you’re aware of how unbelievable your story sounds. But San seems to be taking all of this in stride, better than you are, at least.

“Well, you could either be a skilled liar, insane, or telling the truth.”

You open your mouth to protest that nothing that has come out of your mouth has been a lie so far, but he holds up a hand to stop you. Your mouth closes with an audible clop.

“If you are a liar and are simply a spy of the Royal Navy here to steal the navigational maps, you must be a terrible one to present such a ridiculous story.” You try to protest again, but he continues. “From what I gather of my conversation with you, you are too sound of mind to be mad. So that only leaves me with one option. You are telling the truth.”

Just like that?

Something in you breaks down in relief and your shoulders sag. You’ve known that the whole time, that you’ve been telling the truth, that you have no memories. But suddenly, you’re not alone. Now, somebody believes you.

Someone understands.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until San reaches forward to brush the tears from your eyes. His fingers are gentle and warm, like Seonghwa’s hands. Then you start.

“Did Seonghwa bring me here? Where are we?” You look around the room you are in. You’re sitting on one of the two small beds in the cramped cabin, the shelves along the walls overflowing with written text, books and boxes with messily scribbled labels. There’s a small wooden table in the middle, a stack of paper in danger of falling off the side, and several stalks of dried plants on its surface. Opposite you is a wooden door.

“We’re in my cabin. You’re currently in Seonghwa’s bed. He offered to bed down with the rest of the crew until you recover.” San hesitates. “As for who brought you here… he asked not to be mentioned. It wasn’t Seonghwa.”

A frown tugs at your lips. Besides the kindly cook, who else would take any sympathy on you to come drag you here in the middle of a rainstorm? San shakes his head and gets to his feet.

“Don’t think too much about it.” Before you can protest, he moves over to the table and retrieves a small wooden box, opening its clasp. “Anyway, I was intending on returning this to you once you woke up.”

A thin, silver chain dangles from his fingers, at the end of which is a tiny, clear cut crystal. Small, delicately wrought silver leaves hold the crystal in place, and your mouth falls open in awe as San presses it into your hand. A kaleidoscope of reflected colors fall on your palm.

“It’s beautiful.” You breathe, lifting your hand to inspect the gem. San’s head cocks to the side in confusion.

“That is not the response I was hoping for, considering that I took it from your neck when I was undressing you.” He frowns, and your eyes widen in surprise.

“From me? As in, it was around my neck the whole time and I didn’t notice it?” You babble and San nods. He taps the largest silver leaf with a finger.

“Look at this carefully.”

There’s an inscription in the lid, beneath a carving of an elaborate swirl. You squint to make out the minuscule words.

I will be with you every step of the way.

You pause in shock at the revelation.

From before you lost your memories, from before you came to be in that tiny prison cell, you were not alone. If you just find the person who gave you this, you’ll know who you were before.

“You should keep it with you.” Gently, San takes the necklace from your hands and clasps it behind your neck. You’re silent in wonder, fingering the tiny crystal that nestles in the center of your chest. “Now, I should really go check on Wooyoung’s arm before he starts whining again.” He rises to his feet. “Do you have any last questions?”

“Is the captain really not going to throw me overboard?” You manage, gripping the tiny crystal in hand. At this, San really laughs.

“No. Although he did burn the Royal Navy coat you were wearing and tossed the ashes into the sea.” The healer replies as he plucks a small jar of ointment from a shelf. “If you give him no reason to kill you, he won’t.”

“Being alive seems to be reason enough to him.” You mutter unhappily under your breath, tucking yourself under the covers once more. Your eyelids are getting heavy once again. “The captain really hates the Royal Navy, doesn’t he? Why?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see San shrug as he pulls a leather sling bag over his shoulder. “He has good reason to, but it’s not my story to tell.”

Then he crosses over to you and tucks the blankets a little more securely around you. His grey eyes are soft.

“Go to sleep. I’ll come back and tend to you later.” San’s voice is gentle and melodic, like a lullaby.

You close your eyes, still clasping the small crystal in your hand. “Okay.” You murmur in reply, pulling the blanket closer around you. “Just for a while more, then.”

You don’t wake up till a day later.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez jongho #ateez mingi #ateez san #ateez wooyoung #pirate king #ateez pirate king #w; pirate king #w; fanfiction #w; ot8

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heckthis-heckallofthis · 2 years

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CaWF actually showed us how all the main cast deals with stress

M and NK hides away, do not look for them, M does an extra thing and says "I wanna commit apoptosis"

Kt just sits in his house trying to use coping mechanisms he finds on the internet/books in the cell bookstore, in the end he still sits alone saying "why don't I have any friends"

2145 keeps working, only work, work and food. If no work you are a useless immune cell, work.

Dendritic sulks, actively thinks his bacterium don't love him, "That's just a stuffed animal, it's doesn't capture the charm of the lactic acid bacterium"

B cell just stops partying, stops getting girls, stops everything, it's rare to see him like this since he's pretty optimistic about everything

Ht eats a LOT of sweets and impulse buys too many things, goes to Dendritic if he really needs to

Reg T eat sweets, probably got that from ht, and she probably ignores anything that's happening and just plays her card game on the computer

1235 rarely gets stressed, anxious or angry, if she ever does she does her best anyways, the only one with a healthy coping mechanism

Eosinophil just explodes

Mast cell has no stress as long as he has his anime girls, if he does he just complains about going home, back to his anime girls

Memory forgets too many things to be stressed out, he will hit you with his cane if he thinks you're trying to take advantage of him or something tho

#cells at work #hataraku saibou #hataraku saibō #cells at work friends #caw friends #hataraku saibo friends

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im-totally-not-an-alien · 3 years

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Final fantasy 7 prompts no. 66

1. Sephiroth keeps having dreams about a young blond man. The man never hurts him, only holds him and whispers odd things to him. "The second library in Nebilheim is filled with lies", "Your mothers name isn't Jenova", "Your journey begins in the sector five slums" he looked into it a bit, only to find out Nebilheim doesn't have a second library,so he wrote it off as just wierd dreams

His favorite type of dream is where they don't say anything at all. Sephiroth simply lays with his head cradled on the mans chest as the blond runs his fingers through his hair. It's...soothing

2. Sephiroth is always confused by the holiday seasons. Worse, he's never sure what to get people. Thankfully Zack is there to help!

Aka ff7 Christmas Special

Or, a winter solstice special.

3. Sephiroth having an inner monolog and being a bi mess without realizing he's a bi mess.

4. Time Traver Cloud as a shape-shifter. He found out he can perfectly copy other people and use illusions for the clothes. After he destroys Jenova he decides to mess with Shinra and tear it apart from the inside.

He has to be careful though, the head Turk, Veld, was onto him after he had transformed into Reno and was caught...by the real Reno

5. Genesis did some snooping after he accidentally found out he was adopted and discovered his birth mothers name is listed as "Jenova"

After talking about it to Angeal and Sephiroth it comes out that Sephiroths mother is also named "Jenova". They get a blood test and discovered that they were half brothers. (Since the J cells mess with thier biology and stuff. Idk logic has no power here)

Genesis immediately starts crooning about being the older brother and thus, the boss.

Somewhere along the line they sprout wings (Sephiroth donates his blood to save Gen so its all good) and catch time traveler Cloud (who also has a wing) and do more blood tests which come back saying Cloud is his full brother.

Cloud and Sephiroth are oddly ok with Genesis bossing them around. Angeal becomes team mom and Zack is...well, Zack

6. Time traveler Genesis suckerpunched Sephiroth in the face

7. Post DoC where Cloud and the rest of AVALANCHE were going on a road trip across Gaia to sorta relive thier adventures. The problem is that Cloud misidentified some mushrooms, cooking and serving them to the group.

By the time Sephiroth arrives to crash the party everyone is a giggling mess.

8. Lazard turned the corner to find Genesis standing on Sephiroth and Angeals shoulders trying to shove an assortment large angry frogs into an air vent.

He decided he didn't have nearly enough coffee to deal with this.

9. Sephiroth goes back to his old home in Midgar and has nostalgic flashbacks of his old friends

10. Cloud wakes up in mako tube in a lab as said tube is being drained. He fought his way out, making extra sure that the scientists are dead. He escapes disguised as a security guard and makes it into the city...only to be confronted with much more advanced technology and machinery.

He takes off his helmet to talk to a frightened man he saved from a monster and finds out he's nearly three hundred years in the future and the SOLDIER program had been reinstated about seventy years ago through mysterious means.

He thought back to his mako tube, realizing why the scene felt so familiar. His tank doubled as an alter. He was being used as the new Jenova. Cloud felt sick from the realization.

The blond was ripped from his thoughts when he was grabbed. Someone was calling him a different name and asking for an autograph.

This is how he learned he had a "Sephiroth" of his very own. One that apparently looked just like him. Joy.

11. Time traveler Cloud au where Cloud falls in love with Sephiroth, but instead of being happy or whatever he freaks out, gets really, really drunk, then travels to Nebilheim and wakes up Vincent specifically to ask him to shoot him in the face.

Cloud accidentally mentions it was Sephiroth he was in love with and he finds himself alone in the creepy shinra basement faster than he can process the fact that the ravenette had literally transformed into Chaos to fly to his self proclaimed godson.

Cloud decided it would be a good idea to sleep in Vincents coffin while it was still warm. At least Sephiroth couldn't find him here.

Sephiroth found his missing crush there, literally the next day.

12. The Deluge by DD McInnes made me think of tiny Zack and tiny Cloud also sailing in a teacup with a leaf as its mast and Zack raising the Buster sword in the air while shouting "ADVENTURE"

Cloud is in the background smiling fondly and steering the boat.

Now you have to live with that adorable image in your head as well.

13. Sephiroth using really bad angel themed pickup lines.

Mostly on Cloud. Maybe one on Genesis.

14. Sephiroth went back in time and saved Zack and Cloud on the Midgar cliffs. Why? He had succeeded in his plans to destroy the world but it didn't make him happy like he thought it would.

He drifted through space with the planet as his vessel, thinking about the friends he lost and...Cloud.

Sephiroth steered Zack and his little blond Trooper away from Midgar and back to Nebilheim. To Vincent. To remake the only team powerful enough to defeat Shinra and his other self. To carve out a new future where both Zack and Cloud can be safe

15. Sephiroth returns post AC by appearing inside Clouds dreams.

But Cloud was expecting something like this and had worked with tempering his mind and will. He changed the dream version of Sephiroth into a crow and laughed as Sephiroth cawed angrily at him.

After a few hours they figured something was wrong. Cloud should have woken up by now...

As it turns out,, when he was changing Sephiroth he broke the silverettes connection to the lifestream and trapped them both in Clouds subconscious. Now they have to work together to escape.

#final fantasy 7 prompts #cloud strife #sephiroth #ffvii #genesis rhapsodos #jenova #zack fair #ff7 #angeal hewley #sefikura #final fantasy 7 story prompts #final fantasy prompts #final fantasy vii #ff7 prompts

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littlewhitemice-blog · 3 years

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The Voyage of the Thursday Princess

Up to three hundred years ago Europe was a happening place. Culture. Literature. Knowledge. Soaring cathedrals. Kingdoms bristling with warriors and weapons. But then something happened. Like a candle being snuffed out. The llamapox hit, along with polio, chagas fever, and the mould. Within a few years 98% of the population had died. The forests reclaimed the farms, the villages, even the cities. Skeletons were left scattered over the earth.

About the same time dozens of new foodstuffs appeared. Hot peppers. Chocolate. Corn. Potatoes. And potent medicines, rumoured to have come from Atlantis. Coincidence? Who could tell? Everyone was dead, and civilization had evaporated.

Africa wasn't hit as hard. It expanded to fill the vacuum. Within two hundred years all of Europe was split into colonies of Morocco, Ethiopia, and the Bantu Nation. Wales was now a wholly owned property of the Western European Trading Association. A company archaeologist who had been digging in Portugal found documents which suggested that Atlantis was real, it had been the source of hot peppers, and it had also been the source of the mould. The records of Atlantis were sketchy and fantasmic. Something about golden cities, living lights, and visions. Which brings us to the present day: I, David, a lowly Welsh slave, shoveling coal aboard an iron trading ship of the WETA flying the Bantu flag, setting off across the Atlantic to rediscover Atlantis.

Atlantis was a mythical evil we'd been taught since childhood. The laws against venturing West were still rigorously enforced. We set sail from Oko aboard the Thursday Princess with little fanfare. The cover story was that we were headed to Ireland. But where we should have hugged the coast of Africa and turned north, we took down the sails, fired up the boilers, and we continued due west. The iron ships had evolved naturally from the making and the defense from cannons. My iron boiler was a recent novelty from my own country. Messy, temperamental, often fatally explosive. But, combined with a screw, with the power to cross unheard of distances quickly. Our ship doctor had another forbidden preparation: a stash of malaria mosquitoes, tsetse flies, guinea worms, plague rats, smallpox blankets, and all the other nasties the company had been able to gather covertly on short notice.

The Atlantic knocked us about with its usual violence, but we plowed straight through it. What we didn't know, exactly, was how far Atlantis WAS. We knew the earth was round. About 25,000 miles in circumference. And we could account for about 10,000 miles of that. We had enough coal to drive us three months at 10 knots. If we were lucky, we could get there and back no trouble. Unlucky, we could just get there. Our crew was heavy on skilled slaves; our cargo heavy on war supplies and cannons.

To our great surprise, we made land after only three weeks. How could we be this close without there already being active trade routes? We hoisted sails and turned off the boilers. The land was low, sandy, with palm trees. To the south the land stretched east, so we'd actually sailed further than we needed to. We sent a landing party in, but they found no inhabitants. Campfires, paths, yes. Inhabitants, no. No wildlife larger than a squirrel, either. On the beach there was a pole with a board with squares of squiggles, and a cartoon of a campfire with a blue slash through it. The landing party planted the Bantu flag, claiming Atlantis in the name of the WEPA. The doctor let loose some of his nasties. They gathered some of the local plants. Then returned to the ship in hopes of finding a town. We followed the land southeast.

At dusk we saw more signs of habitation. Some huts, docks, boats and rafts. But no people. Suddenly, a thin glowing beam came from the shore, twisting slightly in the wind. It cut through our mast, which fell burning to the deck. People covered head to toe in white suits appeared from hiding, mounted rafts, and started paddling towards us. Our captain, a big black bald headed fellow, was yelling to the crew to fire the cannons. As soon as the gunports opened though, the beam appeared again, along with cries and awful noises from the cannon crew. It smelled like steak. A cannon let loose aimlessly, punching a hole in the dock. They closed the gunports, but the beam cut through the iron siding like paper. There was an explosion belowdecks. The captain issued new orders: retreat! We found, though, that our ship had been anchored. Crewmen started dropping like flies. I felt a prick, saw a dart sticking out of my arm, then everything went dark.

When I came to, I was tied up in a stone cell with a thick wooden door on iron hinges. A black-haired swarthy fellow with a wide mouth was squatting on a stool next to me, dressed in a white tunic and skirt with a rope around his waist. "You're being held as an accomplice to attempted murder," he said, in passable Bantu. "I expect it to be as an accomplice to actual murder shortly. You are NOT going back home, ever. Or at least until we've conquered you Aztecs. Now, do you have any questions? We've got all the time in the world."

I asked what Aztecs were. He said it was a general term for senselessly violent, but backwards, people.

After talking awhile they untied me and let me go. I was in a city like none I'd ever seen. Streets of yellow brick. Main thoroughfares with steps right in the middle of them. Houses crafted from living trees. Occasionally, a giant sloth, bigger than a house, that they'd bred for hauling. And their fruit! Their food! Indescribably good, and varied. And some food made you happy, or relaxed, or energetic, or sweaty, or have strange dreams. Whatever you wanted.

Pretty soon I had a smiling girl, Akna, hanging on my elbow, too. They even gave me apprentices to learn how to build and operate boilers. Good ones, too. Apparently, gears and engines had never occurred to them! Even though they had wheels and complicated manual devices. They'd always used manual power. I was able to give them a bunch of metal making tips too, since boilers are finicky that way. They'd never taken ships seriously either. Or carts. Or pulleys.

They had apparently tamed lightning, for that death ray we'd seen (it was lightning and metal shavings), and to make machines that could reason and remember, and to talk at great distances. Just the other day one of my apprentices brought in a lightning-driven engine they'd just put together. They were simultaneously proud, and apologetic they hadn't done it ages ago. This lightning craft is beyond me.

And they'd tamed life. They'd been expecting the doctor's nasties and could actually cure most of them. But what is more, they were able to breed new things almost at will. They were going on about cells and atoms, with pictures drawn by lightning, but so far I haven't followed. When the Portuguese first visited Atlantis, the visitors had seen fungus on rags that had been bred to glow bright enough to read for hours when the rag was soaked in sugar water. That was three hundred years ago. It would be child's play for them now.

It's been several years, and true to their word, they never let me go back. I don't know what happened to the rest of the crew. But why WOULD I go back? Back there, I was a cog in their machine. Here, they tell me to tell them stories and eat their roasted sloth. And I've got my Akna.

#bantu #sloth #ship #alternative #history #inca #welsh #atlantis #short story

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the-gay-prometheus · 3 years

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5, 9, Henry, 7, 13 Ernest, 11, 15, 21, Agape, 2, 24, 31 Victor, that's for the load of numbers you threw at me >:) (but do as many or few as you like)

....Whelp. Fair's fair I guess!

Henry

5. How would he be as a teacher? Best and worst subject?

>Henry would be the best teacher in the entire world hands down - the kind of teacher that could turn a student from hating a subject to adoring it. Obviously his best subject would be literature. He would read stories and poems and plays out loud to his students at least once per class, and would always be so enthusiastic and clearly into it that every student would be on the edge of their seats listening, either crying, laughing, or lost in a world of wonder at whatever picture the thing he's reading is trying to paint. He'd be a patient and personable teacher as well, always willing to work with each student individually to make sure their learning needs are being met, and he would be the kind of teacher that a lot of students would feel they could talk to about just about anything. You know those teachers that always have students hanging around chatting after class about whatever happened that day? He'd be like that. In terms of real teachers I've had, I think he'd be somewhere between the eccentric grammar teacher I had who always did everything with so much enthusiasm that it was impossible to come out of that class without a smile, and the art teacher I had who, if somebody peaked into the classroom, it would be impossible to tell who the teacher was because he was probably sitting on one of the art tables chatting and sketching or painting while we worked on our own projects.

As for his worst subject, it would be math. I headcanons that, like me, he has dyscalculia, so any kind of math is really difficult for him. If he were ever in a situation where he would be expected to teach math, he'd ask the class if there was anyone who was good at math and ask them if they felt like helping to teach for the day - and if they said no, he'd probably say "...Well alright then. What if we read the first few pages of the Iliad instead and pretend we actually did math things?" ...Or he'd sneak Victor in and ask him to teach instead, despite the fact that Victor is also Not Great At Math despite being a science nerd.

9. How easily does he make friends? Does he have difficulty talking to new people? Why or why not?

>He would say he has a hard time making friends. He feels like he spends too much time rambling about his interests to others, and feels awkward when he has nothing else to talk to anyone about. Ironically, though, most people actually love him and he's really surprisingly popular both back home in Geneva and in Ingolstadt. He definitely struggles with talking to new people, unless Victor is with him in which case he becomes a lot more confident and outgoing because... Well if truth be told, he feels most complete when Victor is around, and that helps him to be more social!

Ernest

7. Any allergies, intolerances, or sensitivities? How severe are they? Do they affect his daily life?

>...Casually about to project here.

Ernest has MCAS (mast cell activation syndrome). Which essentially means, he's allergic and/or intolerant to and/or sensitive to anything/everything at any given time. Obviously the diagnosis didn't exist back then, so it was part of why he was considered so sickly - because he was literally sick from allergies and whatnot almost all the time. It affected his life a lot more when he was younger, but he's grown used to all the affects of it and isn't really bothered by it unless he gets a particularly severe reaction - one that, say, triggers his asthma or causes severe swelling or gastrointestinal cramps.

13. How dangerous is he? Is he innocent or someone to be feared? Do others know?

>Dangerous? Ernest? Ha- ...He'd like to think he is, and I guess if it wasn't for his disabilities he would be. As with most Ernests he has an affinity for weaponry and swordfighting - and truth be told he's rather proficient! The only problem is that his joints are whack (projecting again hehe) and dislocate very easily, and it seems to only be getting worse as he gets older - hence why he starts walking with a cane at the age of 19. That said, that's not going to stop him from defending himself or his family/friends when the need arises - there's just a nonzero chance that he'll injure himself in doing so.

In other words, people should have a healthy level of respect for him, but he's certainly not necessarily a threat.

Agape

11. What is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to him? Is he still ashamed of it? Were there any witnesses?

>The most embarrassing thing? Hm... As of right now he doesn't really have any embarrassing moments? But only because he feels like he has to do everything perfectly all the time so any little mistake he makes is less of an embarrassment and more of an anxiety attack waiting to happen 😔

15. What is his favourite time of day? Why? Does he have a common practice or activity during this time?

>Oh! I don't think he'd be able to choose! He'd love all times of day equally I think. Night time would be very comforting to him because, well, it always has been. That was the time he was most able to do anything before staying up on the mountain with Victor, so it feels very familiar, not to mention he enjoys the quiet and coolness of it, and the moon and stars feel sort of like old friends to him in some ways. Favorite night time activities include stargazing and night hikes.

Dawn and Dusk are both wonderful as well - the colors in the sky and the way the clouds seem to glow in various colors of their own bring him an awful lot of joy, and he also has always loved the sound of bird song so listening to the dawn and dusk choruses is one of the most calming and peaceful things for him. If he has paint and canvas on hand, he likes to try to paint the sun rise or sunset and capture the beauty of it on canvas - though he feels like he can never seem to capture it as accurately as he would like.

Day is a time he's learned to love again. He used to fear it because that meant people would be out and about and there would be a greater chance of someone seeing him and either running from him in fear or attacking him, but now that he doesn't have to worry about that, he's able to enjoy the day without fear. The brightness that the sun brings to everything is something he cherishes, even though sometimes it's a bit too warm for his liking. One of his favorite sights is when sunlight filters through the leaves and needles in the forest and can be visibly seen as rays of light that shift and change with the wind and dapple the ground below, and that's something that can only really be found during the day. As for favorite regular day time activities, walking through the woods - especially with the company of Victor or Henry (even better if it's both), watching animals go about their day and sometimes sitting there and sketching them, or just laying out on the ridge watching the clouds go by (bonus points again if Victor and/or Henry joins him).

21. Are there any public events he would love to go to? What about ones that he would hate? Why?

>He loves music and Henry has gotten him interested in theater, so he would definitely want to attend concerts and plays if he could (and would adore musicals once those become a thing in the future). As for what he would hate, any kind of party or public event that involves socialization with other people, because... Well it would most likely end very badly for him at first, and even in the future when he might be able to do that without his presence being... disruptive, he would still be very uncomfortable due to past traumas. He would also hate anything that is too loud or too bright or too busy because that would give him sensory overload and he would just... Not be having a good time.

Victor

2. Can he play any instruments? Has he ever wanted to learn how to play any? Why?

>Well. Main AU Victor is proficient in piano but doesn't get the chance to play very often any more. He's more of a singer than an instrumentalist, though even then he'll only sing when he's alone or around people he trusts and cares about that he knows won't mind it, and doesn't really have a desire to learn how to play any new instruments. (Undead Redemption Victor on the other hand can play the piano and the guitar and Fern teaches him how to also play the banjo and the fiddle, though he never gets quite as good at either as her. In terms of vocal music, where Main AU Victor is definitely a lead singer type person, this Victor is more or the background singer if that makes any sense)

24. How dramatic is he? Does he make a big deal over every little thing, or does he fail to react to even the most crazy of events?

>Literally the biggest drama king in the entire world. Everything is a big deal all the time every day. Would be the kind of person to act like he's dying when he gets a cold. Has written his own obituary and will at least fifty times if not more, all due to minor circumstances that he thought would kill him - i.e. getting sick, spraining his ankle, getting bitten by an angry lab rat, breaking his arm (all five times), being bored and having nothing to do and thinking the boredom would be the death of him, etc. For the first few days living with his corpse son he spent the entire time pretty much avoiding him completely and complaining about everything all the time as loudly as possible for the sole fact that he wanted to make it abundantly clear that he didn't want to be there. Thankfully rather than being the annoying kind of dramatic, even when he's being serious about it his over-the-top reactions to things tend to be more silly and endearing.

31. What is his sense of humour like? What does he find funny? Does he try to be funny? Is he actually?

>Sarcasm is his sense of humor. Sarcasm and snark are his ways of being funny, so it really depends on who's around him to determine if he's actually funny or not. To be fair, pretty much everyone he surrounds himself with has a similar sense of humor or at the very least finds his attempts at silly sarcasm and snark to be humorous, so he thinks he's hilarious. Even though he doesn't make them often himself, he does enjoy a good pun - although his reaction to puns usually is usually some sarcastic bit about leaving or something more dramatic like "I swear I'm going to jump out the window." Which to someone who doesn't know his sense of humor might sound concerning or might seem like he actually hated the joke, but for anyone that does know his sense of humor and understands it - they know this kind of reaction is the highest compliment he's capable of bestowing on a person who just made a pun. If a pun wasn't good, he would just tell the person it wasn't funny or wasn't a good pun.

#thank you for all the numbers!!#i was going to try to answer all of these when i got them but i got too tired about halfway through and need to sleep 😅#long post #here's to hoping i didn't mess any of that up because as usual i did zero proof reading lmao

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pigeonfancier · 3 years

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And on less infuriating, actual real life news:

1) I’m hesitantly becoming hopeful for a double win in the Georgia primaries! People keep asking me, worriedly, if this is a coup by the Republicans, and if this’ll have long-lasting consequences, and.. I’m not sure! I’m genuinely not sure of very much at all right now, and I’m mostly just staying steady on my firm belief that the average citizen cares more about us maintaining face on the global stage as the Harbingers of Democracy, moreso than our national politics. Patriotism is a double-edged sword, but I’m hoping that pride will win out over self-interest, and more of the ground level Republicans will choose to abstain or vote for Democrats rather than supporting this further.

I might be wrong! I’m concerned that I’m wrong. But I’m getting hesitantly hopeful, because it seems like voters in both parties are hitting some level of perturbed.

2) I’m making everyone Christmas gifts this year, because I’m broke and poor from Our Lovely Pandemic, and I can’t do my usual “go out and hunt the sales for The Best, Most Thoughtful Gifts”. There is a sort of wicked anxiety that comes with not being able to perform in the manner I wish for Christmas - I hate the holiday, but I like giving gifts, and I like the fact a well thought out gift is such a clear expression of affection. Hopefully handmade stuff will give the same impression. We’ll have to see.

3) My body continues to be weird. My auto-immunal pancreatitis research has turned up a lot of studies from 2005+ on that say, roughly, it’s linked in with mast cells, and mast cell activation syndrome? I’ve only ever heard of that when people are referencing fake illnesses, so I’m kind of sour about it being associated, but.. aren’t most things fake illnesses, until the medical industry is forced to acknowledge them as real? They said my fucking pancreatitis was anxiety and hypochondria, and the pain was just something I need to exercise through. It is not at all surprising that, on another disorder primarily affecting AFAB people, that I’ve only heard of people being dismissive towards it.

And it makes a lot of things make sense - I was just deeply, deeply concerned random reactions were me slowly going fucking insane, as is always my default assumption, but in this context, it’s like.. oh. Alright. So that’s what’s going on, and this is why my random cobbled together series of treatments work in alleviating symptoms. And, it turns out, there may not be as many genuine causes on my end to blame for flare-ups, or allergic reactions. Sometimes they just happen, even if I do my best, and that’s a fucking relief.

Unfortunately, a lot of information still amount to “this is not actually treatable lol sucks to suck”, but that’s fine. The more information I get, the more I can do with it - and the older I get, the better I’m getting at keeping all of these balls in the air, so. It’ll get better as time goes on! Just need to keep slogging! And maybe wear an allergy mask indoor. :’)

#d. rambles #post spam now done!#you'd think using Twitter would make me less verbose #but no apparently it just makes me feel like I have swallowed a dictionary and it's time to spit words like acid

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godziillavskong-online-subtitrat · 3 years

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[[GRATIS]] Godzila vs. Kong Sub-Romana (Filme'2021) Online Subtitrat in Romana

Godzilla vs Kong filme online subtitrat romana-improve-dorothy-socialist-AVI.jpg. Godzilla vs Kong (2021) filme online subtitrat romana. Titlu original: Godzilla vs Kong.. Godzilla vs Kong filme online subtitrat romana-improve-dorothy-socialist-AVI.jpg. Godzilla vs Kong (2021) filme online subtitrat romana. Titlu original: Godzilla vs Kong..

Lots of VFX shots in this really cool trailer for Godzilla vs Kong: The VFX are made by: Double Negative (VF… | Godzilla vs Kong movie, Gal gadot Godzilla vs Kong, Godzilla vs Kong

🎬 Uita Te Aici 👉👉 https://metroflixs.com/en/movie/399566/godzilla-vs-kong

Titlu original: Godzilla vs Kong Eliberare: 2021-09-30 Runtime: 151 minutes evaluare: 8.6 /10 of 2927 Review gen literar: Fantasy,Acțiune,Aventuri Limba: EN - AR - SK - HR - RO Treceți rapid la anii 1980, deoarece următoarea aventură pe ecranul mare a femeii minunate o găsește în fața a doi dușmani cu totul noi: Max Lord și The Cheetah. Se pare că nu avem încă un sinopsis pentru acest titlu.

Fii primul care contribuie! Trebuie doar să faceți clic pe butonul „Editați pagina” din partea de jos a paginii sau să aflați mai multe în ghidul de trimitere al sinopsisului.

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❍❍❍ TV FILM ❍❍❍

The first television shows were experimental, sporadic programs that from the 1930s could only be seen at a very short distance from the mast. TV events such as the 1936 Summer Olympics in Germany, the crowning of King George VI. In Britain in 19340 and the famous launch of David Sarnoff at the 1939 New York World’s Fair in the United States, the medium grew, but World War II brought development to a halt after the war. The 19440 World MOVIE inspired many Americans to buy their first television, and in 1948 the popular Texaco Star Theater radio moved to become the first weekly television variety show that hosted Milton Berle and earned the name “Mr Television” demonstrated The medium was a stable, modern form of entertainment that could attract advertisers. The first national live television broadcast in the United States took place on September 4, 1951, when President Harry Truman’s speech at the Japanese Peace Treaty Conference in San Francisco on AT & T’s transcontinental cable and microwave relay system was broadcasting to broadcasters in local markets has been. The first national color show (the 1954 Rose Parade tournament) in the United States took place on January 1, 1954. For the next ten years, most network broadcasts and almost all local broadcasts continued to be broadcast in black and white. A color transition was announced for autumn 1965, in which more than half of all network prime time programs were broadcast in color. The first all-color peak season came just a year later. In 19402, the last holdout of daytime network shows was converted to the first full color network season. Related Article

QU’EST-CE QUE GODZILLA VS KONG ?

À l’origine de la Snyder Cut, on retrouve une campagne de lobbying orchestrée par des fans, et soutenue par les acteurs de Justice League pour obtenir réparation après la sortie en salle du film. En l’occurence : le Justice League tel que l’avait imaginé Zack Snyder, et pas celui rafistolé par Joss Whedon à la demande de Warner Bros.. Mieux, le réalisateur a obtenu une enveloppe de quelques millions de dollars pour tourner de nouvelles scènes et affirmer un peu plus sa vision (plus de 70 millions de dollars selon Screen Rant, soit un budget énorme pour une version Director’s Cut).

À l’origine, Godzilla vs Kong devait être découpé en quatre portions d’une heure. Ce format a finalement été abandonné et c’est bien un (très) long métrage de quatre heures qui sera proposé aux spectateurs. Un record pour un film de superhéros.

QUELS SONT LES PRINCIPAUX CHANGEMENTS INTÉGRÉS PAR GODZILLA VS KONG ?

Les quelques images de Godzilla vs Kong confirment qu’il n’aura rien à voir avec le Justice League original, hormis peut-être sur les bases de l’intrigue. La version de Joss Whedon aborde les enjeux avec un ton plus léger, là où Zack Snyder entend offrir un souffle divin, quasi mythologique, à l’alliance entre Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash, Cyborg et Aquaman. Le blockbuster sera plus sombre et plus violent, avec des affrontements qui devraient gagner en fureur et en intensité.

Autre changement de taille, Godzilla vs Kong va intégrer l’antagoniste Darkseid à l’équation. Dans le Justice League de Joss Whedon, il est à peine mentionné et les superhéros doivent combattre Steppenwolf, un lieutenant d’Apokolips qui sera dans la version de Snyder aux côtés de DeSaad. Dans l’univers DC Comics, il n’est pas interdit de penser que Darkseid est l’équivalent de Thanos chez Marvel — c’est dire la tâche qui attend les justiciers.

Par ailleurs, l’intrigue devrait se recentrer sur certains personnages très mal mis en avant. Par exemple, Cyborg sera beaucoup plus important dans l’histoire.

Godzilla vs Kong CRI DU CŒUR

Godzilla vs Kong démarre sur un cri de douleur qui résonne à travers la planète : celui de Superman à la fin de Batman v Superman : L’Aube de la justice. Cette vague donne la première note mélancolique d'un film qui, cette fois, assume plus simplement la noirceur de la situation. L'Homme d'Acier a disparu et avec lui, une certaine idée de l'espoir s'est envolée. Ce désespoir ronge Lois et Martha, motive Bruce à réparer ses erreurs, et ouvre une brèche pour Steppenwolf : sans kryptonien à l'horizon, sans union entre les peuples et les héros, l'émissaire de Darkseid a un boulevard pour terrasser la Terre.

Dans les meilleurs moments, Zack Snyder s'attarde sur la tristesse de ce monde. Dans un simple effet de montage qui relie un chant islandais mélancolique à un silence de Martha, ou dans un frisson collectif lorsque le plan des méchants touche à sa funeste fin, il installe un univers entier, et connecte des points un peu partout sur le globe pour créer une symphonie entre ces personnages, humains ou surhumains. C'est la solitude qui les relie (ils sont tous orphelins ou presque, au fond), et c'est elle qui doit être vaincue pour affronter Steppenwolf (les inévitables tensions dans le groupe, malheureusement à peine plus creusées ici).

Si la durée de ce Snyder Cut pourra largement être remise en question, elle permet ainsi une chose trop rare dans ce type de programme : s'arrêter sur des regards et des visages, pour laisser un peu d'espace aux silences.

Au jeu des bonus, Cyborg est évidemment le grand gagnant de la version longue. De carrosserie de luxe encombrante, il passe à personnage à part entière, avec un passé, un présent et un futur contrarié. Au-delà du flashback attendu sur le terrain de football sous la neige, Victor Stone gagne une dimension humaine grâce à sa rage et sa douleur. L'étendue dangereuse de ses pouvoirs est explicitée, tout comme sa relation avec son père.

Et Silas Stone, incarné par Joe Morton, est largement remis sur le devant de la scène dans le Snyder Cut : le père du héros a un rôle majeur dans l'intrigue, ce qui permet de rectifier au moins une aberration de la version cinéma.

Steppenwolf est l'autre vainqueur de la version longue. Le vilain n'a pas simplement gagné un relooking ferrailleux pour habiller sa tronche de cake à moitié cuit (qui reste bien là) : il a désormais une identité, et une autre dimension que celle du guignol de série B, avec même quelques babioles pour avoir plus de caractère. L'oncle de Darkseid dans les comics est encore trop générique pour marquer les mémoires, mais il a au moins une raison d'exister dans Justice League. Il gagne des motivations plus personnelles (qui passent largement par des conférences Zoom avec la dimension des enfers), et a droit à un climax digne de ce nom pour remplacer l'odieux sketch de la version cinéma.

Du côté des héros Batman, Wonder Woman et Aquaman, rien de très notable hormis quelques répliques nouvelles. Flash a droit à des changements plus notables, et pas juste avec le personnage d'Iris, interprété par Kiersey Clemons : pas mal de petites choses qui accentuaient son inexpérience ont été retirées, et surtout il a un rôle différent dans plusieurs moments-clés.

Superman, lui, devra se contenter d'un lissage. Hormis son joli costume noir, le super-héros reste en arrière-plan, et bénéficie surtout de quelques mauvaises scènes en moins. Plus sobre, plus simple, plus efficace.

L'HISTOIRE SANS FINESSE Godzilla vs Kong

Mais même rafistolé avec des rustines de tous les côtés, le scénario reste un problème. Cette histoire de Boîtes-mères que les héros doivent protéger, et que les méchants doivent voler, avance sur un chemin trop classique et tranquille pour réellement emballer. Malgré quelques gros changements et ajouts (notamment dans le climax), cette partie de l'aventure reste la moins excitante. La formule a les mêmes limites qu'avec Avengers : Infinity War (les gentils veulent protéger les Pierres d'infinité, Thanos veut les récupérer).

Entre ces étapes, Zack Snyder empile les scènes autour des héros : Aquaman célébré par la population locale, Barry qui sauve Iris, Mera qui se défend bien contre Steppenwolf, ou encore l'apparition d'un autre super-héros classique de DC. Mais trop souvent, il y a la sensation que tout ça ne sert pas le film dans sa globalité. Comme si ces parties étaient d'abord des bonus et des cadeaux (plus d'action, plus sur les personnages, plus de visions apocalyptiques), avant d'être les parties d'un récit.

Zack Snyder abuse en plus des flashbacks, posés comme de gros pavés dans le film. Un long cours d'histoire de Diana à Bruce avec une voix off théâtrale, un long flashback sur le passé de Victor et un autre sur les origines d'une Boîte-mère offrent une foule de détails et d'images fortes, mais sans toujours servir le dessein global. Que le film montre deux accidents de voiture, aussi ordinaires l'un que l'autre, donne l'impression que les parties ont été collées les unes après les autres, et rien de plus.

Ce sentiment de non-harmonie est accentué (ou assumé) par le découpage en chapitre, mais aussi par l'humour. Car Joss Whedon ou pas, Justice League a une part de légèreté particulièrement lourde. Barry qui va déposer un CV et récupère une saucisse en plein moment héroïque, Bruce qui frôle la main de Diana en prenant la souris de son super-ordi, Alfred qui panique en voyant Diana se préparer un thé, le scientifique qui raconte une blague sur son érection le soir du bal de promo, sans oublier un paquet de répliques gardées de la version cinéma (notamment avec Flash) : la drôlerie est en place, souvent pour le pire - et parfois dans des endroits inattendus, comme avec un placement de produit Mercedes quasi parodique.

Enfin, le film n'évite pas les pires écueils du genre. Plusieurs personnages ont des problèmes avec papa ou maman lourdement explicités pour leur donner un peu de consistances, et beaucoup de scènes sont écrites à la truelle (notamment la niaiserie de Wonder Woman et la colère “Fuck the world” de Cyborg). Réécrit ou pas, Justice League reste globalement dans le moyen.

Le film complet de The Justice League est sorti sur Internet sur une plate-forme en ligne. Face aux messages d'utilisateurs disant que le film était disponible pendant 1 ou 2 heures, dubflix a déclaré dans un communiqué que Justice League 2021 de Zack Snyder était temporairement disponible sur dubflix en ligne et que l'erreur avait été corrigée en quelques minutes.

Regarder et télécharger des films 2021 en ligne en Français VOSTFR Mieux catégoriser vos films, comme le fait Netflix ou Disney Plus avec leurs collections, serait une autre solution intéressante, mais le catalogue sans fin de la principale plate-forme dubflix ne l'a pas non plus. Le média Hollywood Reporter, ainsi que plusieurs utilisateurs de Twitter, signalent une fuite qui aurait directement affecté la première imminente de Godzilla vs Kong / Godzilla vs Kong.

L'histoireLa Godzilla vs Kong (2021) communément appelée “Snyder Cut”, est la prochaine version du réalisateur du film de super-héros américain Justice League of 2017, le cinquième DC Extended Universe ( DCEU) film basé sur l'équipe de super-héros DC Comics du même nom. Cette version de 4 heures est la vision originale du réalisateur Zack Snyder avant de devoir effectuer les changements stipulés par le studio et de quitter plus tard la production en 2017, où il a été remplacé et repris par Joss Whedon. Comme la sortie en salles de 2017, Godzilla vs Kong suit l'équipe du même nom composée de: Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Flash, Aquaman et Cyborg,

La version de Justice League sortie en salles en 2017, a subi une production difficile. Son scénario a subi des changements majeurs avant et pendant la production entre 2016 et 2017. En mai 2017, Snyder a démissionné pendant la post-production après tant d'interférences du studio, et Whedon a pris le relais, terminant le film en tant que réalisateur non crédité. Whedon a supervisé les reprises et autres changements qui ont ajouté un ton léger et plus d'humour, et réduit la durée de fonctionnement à 120 minutes conformément à un mandat de Warner Bros.La version théâtrale a été un échec commercial et a reçu des critiques mitigées, conduisant à Warner Bros. .de réévaluer l'avenir de la DCEU.

Lorsque des détails sont apparus sur la production troublée du film et son statut avant la démission de Snyder, de nombreux fans ont exprimé leur intérêt pour une autre coupe plus fidèle à la vision de Snyder. Les fans, les membres de la distribution et l'équipe ont demandé la sortie de celui-ci, qu'ils ont surnommé «Snyder Cut». À l'époque, Warner Bros. n'avait pas l'intention de publier une autre coupe, et les personnalités de l'industrie cinématographique jugeaient la sortie peu probable car ils ne croyaient pas en l'existence de cette coupe ou si elle serait viable pour la société. Cependant, les fans ont continué à demander la publication de la coupe à Warner Bros. pendant plusieurs années avec le hashtag “#ReleaseTheSnyderCut”, jusqu'à ce qu'en février 2020, Warner Bros. change d'avis, et le mai suivant, Snyder a annoncé que la coupe originale de quatre heures serait publiée et serait présentée en première en tant que Godzilla vs Kong via le service de streaming, HBO Max. La restauration et l'achèvement de la coupe ont coûté 70 millions de dollars supplémentaires pour compléter et modifier certains effets visuels, partitions musicales, montage et tournage supplémentaire.

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impala-dreamer · 5 years

Text

Lost In The Blue

SPN FanFic

~A party at The Padalecki's turns steamy when Misha turns his eyes your way.~

Misha x Reader, Gen Padalecki, Jensen

1,760 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Porn. Breathplay. Oral. Messy Orgasm.

A/N: Sometimes you just need Misha between your legs....

Feedback is Gold ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon

It hit you like a tidal wave. That slow tingling desire that had been with you all day suddenly exploded into a rush of desperation. It flooded your veins, it rolled your hips, it kicked your pulse up a thousand notches.

Misha saw you shiver from across the room. Blue eyes shone bright even in the dimly lit area, falling over you with interest. A smile caught his lips as you tried to bleed your own, stabbing your bottom lip with your teeth to hold in a moan. He knew. He could see it in the way your nostrils flared and your chest rose with a heavy breath. Fuck, he could practically smell you from across the room.

He winked subtly and the entire world fell away. The Padalecki's living room was no more. The party surrounding you, the low din of human voices ceased to make any sense to your fragile mind.

There was only Misha.

He laughed at something Jensen said as he lifted a crystal glass to his lips, responding to his companion but not looking at him. He was locked in on you. His stare pierced your being; you could feel the blue dancing downwards over your body, lingering by your heaving breasts, caressing your stomach and thighs. Your pussy clenched, thighs tensing shut as he swallowed his drink, muscles in his throat slowly pulsing. His eyes shot back up to yours and you gasped, knees refusing to hold you in place for a second.

Misha laughed smugly to himself and looked away, knowing just what he was doing to you. He was in total control of your body and didn’t even have to say a word. One flick of his tongue against his lips was as good as against your clit; a turn of his wrist in conversation may have just as well been deep inside your cunt.

You were losing your mind and he loved every second of it.

Someone spoke to you, trying to pry your attention from the Sex God across the way, but the thin voice fluttered passed your ear with no impact.

“Y/N?” Gen tried again, holding out a refill of your drink, but you couldn’t even move to take it. “You OK?”

Misha snuck a glance at you, sapphire eyes turning at the corner. He smirked and you gave up the facade, jumping to your feet and nearly knocking Gen off of hers.

“I’m good, thanks,” you mumbled absently as you rushed across the thick carpet to take what you needed.

Jensen was gesticulating wildly as he spoke, turning with the action and blocking your path to Misha. He was no obstacle for you, just a cone in the road. You moved around him like you were slipping into a hot bath, toe first, body sliding against him, pushing him gently out of the way.

He startled and laughed. “Hey, Y/N/N, what-”

Misha grinned as you attacked, utterly ignoring Jensen and sliding your right hand up Misha’s hard chest, wrapping it around the nape of his neck. Your fingers dug into the forest of soft black hair and pulled, urging him to dip down to meet your lips.

“Hey, babe,” he chuckled when you loosened your grip.

“Don’t babe me,” you grit, reached down between you to tug on his belt. He lurched forward, spilling a bit of his drink down your back, but you didn’t care. You pushed up on your toes and down with your hand as you licked his ear. “Need you. Now.”

You heard his swallow, felt his cock twitch.

Misha cleared his throat and stood up, turning just a bit to nod at Jensen. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

Jensen laughed as Misha’s arm circled your waist and turned you towards the door. “Have fun!”

The bedrooms were unlocked, the upstairs was empty.

Halfway down the hall, you grabbed Misha’s arm, spinning him around so you could jump; shoving him hard against the wall and biting his big pink bottom lip. His scruff scratched your face, tongue jabbed at yours. He was wet and hot and his hands cupped your cheeks, holding on while you breathed into him.

“What’s gotten into you tonight?” he asked, eyes huge and darkening by the second.

“Just...I don’t know,” you said honestly, a hint of a moan on the end of each word. “I can’t stop thinking about you fucking me on Jared’s bed.”

His jaw dropped slightly and you nipped at it, tugging on that sweet juicy lip as your desire rolled around in his head.

“Uh…”

“Please, Misha… please.” You rolled your palm over his quickly stiffening cock and he hummed happily.

“Yeah. Yeah, OK.”

Third door on the left. Fresh flowers on every flat surface. Huge window looking out over the pool. Bed big enough to get lost in for days.

Misha popped the snaps on your bra as you raced to the bed. You yanked at your dress, pulling it up and off as he fiddled with his pants behind you.

“God, you are so fucking sexy,” you moaned, watching the deep cuts of his hip bones move as he pulled off his shirt.

“Have you seen yourself lately?” he teased, hair a mess as he emerged from his shirt.

Kicking off your panties, you fell to your knees at his feet, thumbs hooking around the elastic of his orange boxer briefs. “You don’t need to sweet talk me tonight, Misha. I’m ready to go.”

Misha sucked in a quick breath as you licked a long line down his cock, tip to root and back before pulling the head between your lips. “Fuck. Yes, you are.”

He was hard on your tongue, thick and heavy. You swallowed him down, slowly burying your face in the black down at the base, loving how he jabbed at the back of your throat. Misha dropped a hand to the back of your head and held you there for a long moment, waiting until you gagged to let you go. You pulled back with a gasping breath and looked up longingly as you fisted his cock.

“Please fuck me, please.”

Misha dropped his chin and stared deep into your eyes, the blue pushing out everything but the motion of your hand steadily pumping his cock and the hot slick between your thighs.

“Is that what you need, Pretty One?” he asked, wiping a line of spit from your cheek with his wide, calloused thumb.

Your clit was throbbing painfully, your cunt aching to be filled. You whimpered pathetically and nodded, almost at the point of tears. “Please!”

Misha smiled and tucked your hair behind your ear. “Up on the bed...”

The mattress was firm but the blankets were soft, cradling your back as you lay down, spreading your legs wide for him, bending your knees high.

Misha stepped forward, fingers teasing his shaft. “You are totally soaked,” he reported, watching the arousal trickle down from your pulsing cunt.

“Yeah…” you whined, pawing at your naked tits. “I told you.”

“Maybe I should grab a towel. Don’t wanna make a mess of Gen’s nice bedspread.”

He made a move to turn away but you yelped dramatically and reached for him, clawing at his arm as you sat up.

“I. Need. You to fuck me, Misha,” you commanded firmly. “Now.”

The bed shook as he jumped up, sliding between your thighs as he kissed you hard, pushing you back down onto the blanket. You moaned around his tongue and your hands roamed upwards, fingers dancing over the thick muscles of his arms, the deep dips of his collarbone. He was so hard, so thick, that it made your body ache.

He rolled his hips slowly and nudged at your clit, the instant rush of pleasure making you cry out.

A big hand covered your mouth and Misha peered down into your soul. “Shhh…”

Lost in the blue, your heart began to race, nostrils widening as the pulled in the air around his heavy hand, taking in his musky sweet scent with it. Your eyes rolled and Misha sunk deep inside your cunt, filling you up completely.

He felt you shudder and the next cry was muffled nicely by his palm.

“So fucking tight, Y/N.” He jerked forward, rolling your hips up with him, making you work for it. “Love this little pussy.”

You clenched around him, body gripping him tight.

“You gonna cum already?” he asked, amazed but almost there himself.

Your eyes went huge and you nodded, still caught by his big hand.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered, removing his hand. You sucked in a lung full of air and held it as he dropped his fingers to your clit, rubbing hard and fast. “Cum, Y/N.”

At last that terribly delicious ache was relieved and you came hard on his cock, leaking down and around him. It dribbled down your ass onto the blanket and Misha bucked his hips hard, following suit.

That first breath was magical, filling up your lungs and entire body; every cell so full of him, every sense beating and living for Misha.

You went limp beneath him as he kissed you sweetly, mapping your cheeks and neck with tiny wet kisses that tickled your skin. When his arms refused to work any longer, he dropped down on top of you hard, pushing you fully into the bed and then rolling away, pulling you along for the ride.

“You’re amazing,” you sighed, cuddling into his warm chest. He smelled like pine and sweat, sawdust and hardwork; sex. You kissed his nipple playfully and he squirmed, pushing your face away and up to take a proper taste.

“That was incredibly hot,” he said, letting you go after a moment. “But, seriously, what got into you?” He laughed and sat up slowly, running a hand through his messy hair.

“No idea, honestly.” You shrugged and sat up on your elbows. “I was just sitting there...watching you watching me… and… do you know how fucking sexy you are?”

Misha laughed again and tossed your bra at you. “Do you know how much trouble we’re gonna be in if Jared comes up here and sees this mess?”

Bashfully, you looked down at the spot you’d left behind. “That’s...oops?”

“We’ll pay for the dry cleaning,” he said assuringly, pulling up his briefs.

You cringed and hopped up off of the bed, worry creeping up your spine. “Gonna be expensive.”

Misha slapped your ass lovingly and squeezed. “Worth it.”

2019 Forever Tags:

@akshi8278 @amanda-teaches @arses21434 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @because-imma-lady-assface @burningcoffeetimetravel @colagirl5 @cosicas-cuquis @cosmicfire72 @courtney-elizabeth-winchester @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @dean-winchesters-bacon @deansenwackles @deansgirl215 @deanmonandnegansbitch @dolphincliffs @dubuforeveralone @emilyshurley @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @eternal-elir @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @gayspacenerd @hella-aj-the-trickers-son @herbologystudent252 @hobby27 @ilsawasanacrobat @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @lastactiontricia @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @mysticmaxie @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @peridot-rose @pisces-cutie @risingphoenix761 @roonyxx @roxyspearing @sandlee44 @shadowkat-83 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnficgirl @supernaturaldean67 @supernatural-took-me-over @thehardcoveraddict @tmiships4life @wegoddessofhell @winchesterprincessbride

#spn fanfic #misha x reader #smut #one shot #misha collins x reader

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