#the metaphors with the red and the shooting stars

[purrfectlycontent]

till’s pupils reflecting red only when he’s looking directly at ivan

#my ramblings #all the little details they put in #the metaphors with the red and the shooting stars #it makes me wonder if part of the reason why they specifically chose these scenes is because of freedom #the first scene being ivan and till escaping from anakt garden #the second being death. the ultimate freedom from alnst #and there’s that whole thing with an eye (with black lashes looking like ivan’s) being injected with something red #sorry. i’m still not over this #in fact i have more questions #alien stage #alnst ivan #alnst till #ivantill

[total-drama-brainrot]

World Tour Assistant Noah AU (where he is always an assistant):

After the gross kiss failed to stop Alejandro's flirting... Noah begs Duncan to convince Alejandro, that Noah is too dorky to date... but Duncan has an even better idea; make Alejandro jealous for fun!

(In this AU, Duncan and Courtney had broken up before Season 3, so Duncan isn't a cheater!)

Duncan: "Thanks for letting me return to the show, handsome.~" 😘

(Duncan kisses Assistant Noah's cheek.)

Alejandro: "Duncan, I will DESTROY you!" 😡

Noah: "I just want to be left alone!" 🙄

Wait hold on... hold on... this is just the premise of my favourite Dunnoah fic series but with an assistant Noah twist. And extra Alenoah flavouring. That's not to say I'm against the idea.

Though I can't really imagine Duncan ever committing himself to flirting with Noah unless the two had struck up a deal prior- Duncan's that specific brand of 2000s era bigoted where being seen as anything but straight is a social crime (despite the fact that Duncan is definitely a boykisser, just in denial), but he's also aware of just how much of a threat Alejandro is in the competition and the latino's huge obvious crush on Chris' personal assistant, so I think Duncan could push aside his own internal biases to at the very least propose a similar idea to Noah.

Really, it'd be beneficial for the both of them; Noah gets to subtly-not-so-subtly tell Alejandro to back off by responding to Duncan's advances but not his, and Duncan gets to rile up Alejandro enough to redivert his attention away from the competition itself thus increasing his own chances of winning. It's strategic, really, nothing more.

It's that line of logic that has Noah eventually conceding that, for all intents and purposes, it's a good plan. So he deigns to play along, at least for a little bit, just to get Alejandro off of his back.

And, canonically, they're both shown to be at least half-decent at flirting, so whatever displays they have planned to annoy Alejandro would be just convincing enough to really get under his skin. Especially since Alejandro's shown in canon to be the protective/possessive type (mostly in All-Stars, in how he reacts to José insulting Heather) and likely wouldn't take too kindly to Duncan swooping in on "his amor" or whatever Spanish nickname he'd substitute it with.

Which all eventually leads to the scenario you proposed; Duncan plants a wet one on Noah's cheek and Alejandro sees red.

Noah's already exhausted by default, but feels weariness seep into the marrow of his bones as a seething Alejandro glares poisonous daggers towards Duncan, who's committed enough to their little ruse to in turn shoot a wink and a pair of finger guns towards the assistant. Deciding that he isn't paid nearly enough to deal with the inevitable confrontation between the two idiots who've apparently taken an interest in him (Duncan's, of course, being a known ruse), Noah leaves to go and do his actual job.

...

And then, Alejandro confronts Duncan directly in the Economy cabin, claiming that he doesn't deserve to so much as look at Noah, and that he (Alejandro) was the one Noah kissed and therefore the object of his attraction so Duncan better lay off. This is news to the punk, and adds a whole new layer of complexity to their plan. And perhaps something he can later exploit to give himself a leg up in the competition.

But why does the idea of Noah kissing Alejandro make his chest tighten up with envy?

And then maybe Duncan finds the untamed passion of Alejandro's genuine fury kind of hot and he too enters the metaphorical boxing ring of feelings? Aledunnoah endgame? The intern server has been posting a lot of Aleduncan lately so letting those two get together (and with Noah in there too, as a bonus) just seems natural to my brain at this point.

#the answer is always polycules #noah the cranky eepy assistant and his two overcompetitive asshole boyfriends #aleduncan rivals to lovers where they both begin competing for noah's affections and find themselves rapidly falling in love with each othe #as well. internal conflict for the both of them because they can't be in love with two people at once???? except yeah they can. #this au can have a little miscommunication and internal conflict angst. as a treat #noah of course is more comfortable in his sexuality as the resident twink and doesn't have to go through a whole character arc unlike the-- #other two. so he's just waiting patiently for them both to work out their issues before he makes his move. #the move in question is him asking: if i agree to date you both will you shut up for once? #and then alejandro and duncan are just furiously nodding because noah said the word “date” and that was enough to abandon all logic. #boom. polycule. #total drama #td alejandro #td duncan #td noah #alenoah #dunnoah #aleduncan #aledunnoah #assistant noah au #others' ideas #silly ideas #ophe's ranting in the tags again #replies

[mimicha-arts]

Just a random post written after a sleepless night. Decided to collect a few thoughts and translate them into a single post for the future, as I'm wondering if the detail from the opening turns out to be what it seems. Mind you, this is all speculation and I'm just having fun.

Spoilers!

About Cheng Xiaoshi … Again. I'm still not convinced that the forest is a literal location. So far, this may be the actual location of the scene, but also a metaphor, similar to the foxes in the forest in the story of the twins.

Considering the theory where Cheng Xiaoshi is dead (or wounded) in some variation of events, although the injury visually seems to be at the same place as Lu Guang's wound, in my opinion, the circumstances were different.

It's still hard for me to guess how time goes by (I still have the idea in my head, given the characters' intros, that s1 and s2 are one long flashback). But whether it's a flashback that has already happened in some of the realities, or further events, in my opinion, the tragedy with Cheng Xiaoshi is connected with a gun. The presence of such a weapon seems to be a critical moment, it's kind of too obvious. 1. OP

Simple and clean. The gun will literally be one of the key items in the further plot, just like the star fox, as of yet unknown diary and 2 photos.

2. Qiao Ling's poster Qiao Ling's shadow (on the poster for s2) is one of the twins. If you look closely, there is a pistol in the right hand.

I'm not too sure which of the twins this is, as we have several diametrically opposed theories... and one of them is body-switching. For myself, I temporarily stopped with the thought that Xiao Hong from s1 is Li Tianchen himself (at least his body), and he is going to be the shooter from the future events. *There is still a room here if there are two time/reality lines, and a shot in "the past" may not match a shot in "the present". There is not enough information about the setting and facts. It could still be a metaphor for the destruction of time or something.

3. Qian Jin's profile As additional suspicious information, we know from Qian Jin's intro that he was an extremely skilled police officer, his profile information also specifically highlights his shooting skills. It seems that now he has ceased to act directly and relies on his people, but why was it necessary to highlight these words (用枪械)? I'll keep that in mind for the future.

So. Regardless of who else was involved in this situation, why do I think the one who was shot is Cheng Xiaoshi? Well, back to the Vortex (literally). When Cheng Xiaoshi (s1 design) enters the red space where two photos and a phone flicker, at the very last moment Cheng Xiaoshi flips over in a small flash of light. I think, with such a sharp penetrating gold line, the subsequent blue splashes, like blood, it is really a shot and a bullet passing through.

I think this is a very possible scenario due to such visual elements. The real question is when, in time and chronology, events occur. Maybe someone can get some new thoughts and insights from this~ Can't wait to see what really happened!

#link click #shiguang dailiren #link click spoilers #link click theory #link click s2

[jesterwriting]

JESTERRRR okay first. HI I HOPE YOU'RE HAVING A GOOD DAY!! I'm absolutely taken by the magnificence that is the damn timeloop trope and that HIT HOMEEE and your other works as just as wonderful omg!! goodness i love how you write 😭 i really wish to know more of your ideas soo PLEASE IF YOU HAVE MORE SHARE that's my request for you!! whichever character it is!! (ofc do it at your own pace if u decide to take it :) ) i have some too and omg i feel like spewing them all out is it okay if i do 😭😭

what if you were an angel drabbles

pairing: shanks x reader & law x reader (separate)

contents: can be read as platonic, angel!reader, slight body horror especially in law’s, your body is Wrong, if you squint you’ll see nonhuman character as a metaphor for autism in here, angel lore that i made up on a whim don’t think too hard about it

word count: 1.8k words

note: first off feel absolutely free to come into my inbox and spew ideas!!! i'd love to hear it and you're always welcome <33 secondly, i would literally never post something like this normally, but because you asked for more of my ideas, here it is! something squished out from the creative recesses of my mind.

playlist: man on the moon - zella day

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. That was your motto. Even in your younger years, questions poured from your tongue like honey, coloring your world in rich, vibrant hues rather than suffocating shades of gray. You could speak for hours, annoying your instructors at the academy with your incessant questions.

It would be better if you learned to hold your tongue, they'd say.

How would I sate your hunger if I were silent, you would shoot back.

It would be easier if you could join the humans; ask them your questions face to face. Why couldn’t you walk among them? Such things were not forbidden, though they were rather frowned upon. As an angel, you were meant to observe, not intervene. If anyone were to be sent to the surface of a world, it would certainly not be an angel who couldn’t keep their mouth shut. Since time immemorial, your kind had lived in secret, housed in the spaces between stardust.

You would not be the one to ruin that.

That was what you promised yourself as you packed your bags and snuck out into the night. You could do both, get your answers and keep your secrets. For once, you wanted to live. Smile like a human, laugh like a human, love like a human. All of it was at your fingertips, the only thing you had to do was reach out and grab it. So, you did. You sent yourself spiraling to the surface of a beautiful blue pearl, a planet that was more water than land. This was where you would make your home.

For the first time in your centuries of life, you felt happy. The people of the island you found welcomed you with open arms, embracing your oddities instead of pretending they would go away. You were eccentric, both wise beyond your years and hopelessly naive. Fruits that were common were treated like precious jewels in your hands, work that no one wanted to do, you met with enthusiasm despite your clumsy hands. You told the children stories of faraway worlds, who would then parrot your truths to their parents. It was no secret that there was something off about you, but you were loved, and most importantly, you were free.

Though you were happy, your curiosity could not be sated. You wanted more. To see the world and all it had to offer. When a pirate ship appeared on the horizon, you asked the captain if you could join them on their adventures.

The villagers were sure to give you glowing reviews, you said with a broad grin.

Thus began your life at sea. In closer quarters, it was harder to keep your secrets. Your wings itched beneath your skin, feathers tickling your spine, begging to be set free. When asked of your hometown, you could only dodge the question with a laugh for so long. It wasn’t as if you could tell them the truth: that you fell from the stars like a meteor, never to return home again. You had created a niche in the crew, you would hate to be run off so soon.

Now, you were certain that this was the end of all you had built.

It had been a mistake. A simple one. An avoidable one. You were alone with him when his foot slipped, and you were alone when you dove after him, white wings unfurling to catch him. You were stronger than the average human, easily carrying his weight as you glided to the bottom of the ravine.

This was never meant to happen. Not in a million years, ever. There were rules in place to keep such situations under control, and you, somehow, managed to break every single one within seconds. Your wings ached from being confined within your vessel for so long, and though you longed to stretch them, you were well aware of the pair of eyes that studied your inhuman form.

“What are you?” His voice was soft, barely audible on the wind.

With a slick noise, your wings slotted themself back against your spine, gone as if they were never there in the first place. It felt better to have them back under your skin. Safer, especially under his scrutiny. With a deep breath, tongue gliding over your sharp incisors for comfort, you wondered if there was any way to salvage this.

Red Haired Shanks

Before you could start explaining yourself, Shanks cut you off, his expression morphing into a broad grin. “You can fly? You can fly and you never told me? I should be mad about that, you know.”

“Sorry.” You weren’t sure what else to say. Whatever you expected from your captain, it wasn’t this. Betrayal, maybe, but not excitement. Your stomach churned at the thought of what they were saying about you back home. It was no secret that they were watching you, you were not the first angel to fall from grace, nor would you be the last. Your fingers found the hem of your shirt and began to fidget. “No one was supposed to know.”

Shanks took a step closer to you, breathing heavily. Adrenaline, perhaps. He did just glide thirty meters off the edge of a cliff within the arms of a previously wingless crewmate. Besides, you couldn’t fault him too much, your heart was thundering inside your chest too, both from fear and exhilaration. You had forgotten how wonderful it felt to fly. A part of you couldn’t wait until you could do it again.

“Don’t be,” He said. The wind had swept his hair from his forehead, causing it to stick up at odd angles. You fought the urge to flatten it back against his head. “You saved me from losing a leg, at least.”

You cocked your head to the side, large eyes blinking owlishly at him. “You’re not mad. You should be mad. I’m a liar, and I can never tell you the truth.”

Shanks laughed. You liked his laugh. “Who cares about that? You save me and then expect me to be mad. You really are odd.” Craning his head to look above you, he put his hand on his hip when he caught sight of the edge he stumbled off. “Do you think you can get us back up there?”

If you were odd, Shanks was odder. That was his only question. You grew wings out of nowhere, and all he wanted to know was if you could fly him back up to the top of the ravine. Was it really that simple? You shivered, remembering the first words that left his mouth.

“What are you?”

You didn’t get to answer him. Maybe you never would. With your captain held in your arms, his head against your chest as he whooped against the wind, you wondered if the price of getting to keep your secrets would be simple. You had a feeling that this was not the first flight that Shanks would ask to be taken on, and certainly not his last.

Trafalgar Law

Law stared you down, lips pressed into a thin line.

Your wings fluttered against your spine, wanting to fly you away from this conversation to somewhere you would never be seen again. You were fast, easily able to outrun the Polar Tang even without your headstart. Still, if you left Law at the bottom of a ravine, you would never forgive yourself.

“Um,” You started.

Law crossed his arms. “And don’t you try and tell me you’re human. I’ve known for a long time you’re not.” He glanced down at your hands, palm too wide, fingers too long. “Your bones are in the wrong place.”

It was no secret that you were built… different, with limbs that were too long, disproportionate to the rest of your body, and eyes that reflected light, glowing when the sun dipped under the horizon and stars blanketed the velvet sky. If you weren’t careful, both your elbows and knees bent backwards. It had scared Shachi and Penguin more than once, their screams that you were broken echoing through the Polar Tang. You hadn’t meant to build your body so strangely. In your defense, you had never met a human before until a few months ago.

“My bones are all wrong? But I worked so hard on this body.”

To his credit, Law’s confusion at your strange statement was betrayed by a barely noticeable blink. “You need anatomy lessons if you think that’s passable enough to fool anyone.”

“You should be happy with what I look like. If I showed you my true form, your eyes would melt out of your skull,” You said.

Law scoffed. “I doubt that.”

You bit your tongue to keep from arguing. The only way your captain would believe you was if you tore free from your vessel and bestowed upon him your true holy splendor. Which you would rather not do. Not only did you not want to blind him, but the entire situation would be rather intimate. Angel’s did not show their true forms on a mere whim, and they definitely did not do so to win a petty argument.

“Alright.” The two of you stood in silence. Law was still while you kicked a rock with the toe of your boot. “If you must know, I am an angel.”

You could practically hear them booing back home.

Law was quick with his response, “Angels don’t exist. If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable.”

“Sorry.”

Sighing, Law approached and gave you a stern look out of the corner of his eye. He stood so close, you could feel his body heat. “If you don’t want to tell me the truth, then don’t. All I need to know is how to properly treat you when you get sick or injured.”

Despite his assurances, you could see the curiosity burning in his golden eyes, and you knew the conversation was far from over. With a shrug, you unfurled your wings, grabbing a hold of Law as you launched yourself to the top of the ravine with a single push. Surprise caused him to struggle in your arms, though you kept your grip on him firm.

You didn’t care how stubborn Law was, nor did you care about the inevitable onslaught of questions that awaited you back on the Polar Tang.

If there was one thing you respected, it was curiosity.

#one piece x reader #shanks x reader #shanks x you #shanks x yn #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x y/n #.jesterwrites #had a lot of fun with this one!!!

[jackattack20writes]

FanFic Recommendations for Feedback Fest 2024

Since the 15th of Feb is apparently fanworks day I’m doing an early list of Fic recs to celebrate in no particular order from various fandoms that’ve taken root in my mind at some point or another.

Fatumonagatari By ScyllaAlter

Fandom: Fate/Stay Night | Rating: T+ | Ship: A mix of everyone in Fate/Stay Night but with an emphasis on Shirou/Saber

Shirou Emiya becomes the center of several conflicts, each surrounding a different girl.

(This is an entire Monogatari au)

Forever and Ever By DreamyMarry

Fandom: Bleach | Rating: T+ | Ship: IchiRuki

Rukia talks to the most important women in her life, makes plans and gets herself a fianceé. Ichigo just wouldn't argue it was quite in that order.

In Vino Cogitatio Bona By Strypgia

Fandom: Neon Genesis Evangelion | Rating: T+ | Ship: AsuShin

December 4th, 2015. Everyone is at NERV HQ trying to get the Third Child out of Unit-01. No one cares Asuka is alone and feeling miserable on her birthday. So she decides it's time Misato's forest of bottles does her a favor. After all, Misato thinks liquor is the solution to everything, right? Asuka's turn. And of course, this leads to Good Ideas...

Trains That Lead Me Back To You By Skylin3

Fandom: Persona 5 | Rating: General | Ship: ShuMako

Makoto simply has too much to deal with right now. She just wants to go back and focus on what really matters to her; her education. Maybe someone will be there to cheer her up.

Makoto Niijima Week Day 6 - Train

Gradually By Croeses

Fandom: Persona 3 | Rating: T+ | Ship: ShuYuka

Makoto, Yukari and moments throughout the year.

A Battle Of Love and Piracy By SonnieCelanna

Fandom: My Hero Academia | Rating: T+ | Ship: IzuMomo

Izuku and Momo have been friends for years despite their wildly different stations, and their favourite game to play together was always "Pirates and Solidiers.", in fact Izuku would claim Momo was obessed with pirates. So what will she do when he gets kidnapped by them in an attack on their village?

Seeing Red By SpellCleaver

Fandom: Star Wars | Rating: General | Ship: LuMara

Luke and Mara visit Vader on Mustafar to break the news of their engagement.

The Future We Build Together By Tren

Fandom: Fate/Stay Night | Rating: General | Ship: Sunny Days Trio (Saber/Shirou/Rin)

Rin did not expect her day to be interrupted by the need to help her boyfriend (not-exactly-legal mage) and her girlfriend (Actual King Arthur), but some things can't be helped.

Especially, when you love them very much.

Crossroads of Fate By PumpkinTeacup

Fandom: Bleach & Doctor Who | Rating: T+ | Ship: IchiRuki

It was Ichigo’s birthday, and Rukia was not going to visit.

But fate was a funny thing. While some events were fixed into the flow of reality as if carved into stone, others only needed a slight nudge into place for destiny to unfold as it should. Even in the form of a simple meal with her time-traveling friend.

For Ichiruki Month 2020, AU week, Day 20: Romeo and Juliet

Flash Fire Photography By AriadneKurosaki

Fandom: Bleach | Rating: T+ | Ship IchiRuki

The annual Eighth District Firefighter Calendar is always a big hit, raising millions of yen for charity and causing more than a few fires of the metaphorical kind. When her boss gets sick at the last minute, photographer Kuchiki Rukia steps in to make sure the project stays on schedule. It's just a photo shoot, and she's a professional. It can't be that hard to take pictures of a bunch of firefighters for a good cause, even if they're posing shirtless.

She didn't really count on one particular firefighter being hotter than the fires he's supposed to put out...

#ifd2024 #feedback fest #international fanworks day #fic recs #IFD2024 #ichiruki #shumako #shuyuka #shirou x saber #saber x shirou x rin #izumomo #asushin #mara jade x luke skywalker

[girlbosstourney]

GIRLBOSS TOURNEY ROUND FOUR: BOTH OF THESE WOMEN WOULD START A WAR WITH KLINGONS

Select which one you think is GIRLBOSSIER, i.e., which one is the better girlboss

Propaganda

Bryce Tankthrust:

She's is the very definition of a girlboss! She's CEO of multiple Fortune 500 companies, she's embezzled company funds to build 11 prisons, she's a rich capitalist, she kills people on the regular or has her assistant Donovan literally tear their heads off. She's a homophobic ally, she throws coffee at poor people, she's married to queer super villain terrorist and horniest man alive Bobby Worst, her sex appeal is insane seriously this bitch gets 'serviced' at least once a day. She was president the U.S. for a while and flashed the Senate at one point and threw hands with Joe Biden at some other point, she had hella beef with Queen Elizabeth II. She quite literally has no heart metaphorically AND anatomically speaking, she kidnapped a baby to repeatedly clone it in order to have a) an army of emotionless clones at her disposal, and b) an endless supply of human hearts to harvest because as mentioned she has no heart and needs a transplant every few hours or she dies(or turns into a demonic hellbeast). She originally tried to make an honest living as a young woman and quickly realized that there is now ethical consumption under capitalism (and under rampant misogyny in the 80s) so she decided to just start killing mfs that stood in her way. She's a bad bitch who wears a blood red suit and can sprint at full speed in thin heels while shooting a gun, she is such an evil bitch and I love her, she is THE girlboss.

Michael Burnham:

Started the Klingon war. Was the first person in Star Fleet history to mutiny. Mutinied a second time to save her brother. And insulted his beard while saving him. And all of her crimes were forgiven because she’s just so slay <3 Michael Burnham you will always be famous

#bryce tankthrust #brandon rogers #michael burnham #star trek #girlboss tourney #round four

[hesthermay]

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 (𝐏𝐓 𝟏)

PAIRING: obi-wan kenobi x fem!oc reader

SUMMARY: the shrill sound of blaster fire, red and blue shots of light cutting through the deep fog. the call of a trooper to his general, voice almost blending in with the chaos filling her ears. a blue lightsaber, illuminating the form of a quick and nimble jedi. copper hair, soft and somehow still shiny, as her fingers carded through the strands in the dead of night. flashes, these were—visions and dreams plaguing the goddess of the sun; the sun witch; whatever she may be called. viarruh finnall, the queen of orret, knew she was meant to do more for the galaxy, meant to be out there and meant to be with someone, and with the help of a dear friend that is exactly what will happen.

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

RATINGS + WARNINGS: general audiences, mature themes, slight angst? female oc, use of she/her, mentions of death, soulmate trope, eventual fix it fic. the clone wars time period.

NOTES: this oc and story has been living in my head for actual months. i love viarruh, and i sincerely hope you all do too! her and obi <3 ugh <3 there will be more to this story, i can’t say how many parts bc i’m honestly just winging it but it will follow the clone wars timeline, but it should be alright if you haven’t seen the show. also! i am planning on posting this story to my wattpad! if there are any inaccuracies or things that aren’t quite right, i’m doing my best! but i’m also flying by the seat of my pants so! oops! anyways feedback is always appreciated love u pookies

STAR WARS MASTERLIST

It was quiet in the Jedi Temple, the long corridor leading to the council room almost deserted; save for the four occupants huddled together.

Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala stood side by side as they attempted to offer small comforts to the pair before them. Time seemed to drag on as they all waited, tucked away next to a large column to retain as much privacy as possible, and nerves were understandably growing stronger.

“Just don’t look at him,” the Jedi Knight offered, holding his hands up as if the answer was so simple. He could not be faulted much, however, because he stuck around even when he had no reason to.

“Don’t look at him? I dream about him every night and you expect me not to look at him?” The woman across from him questioned, incredulous words filling the small space of their circle as her sculpted brows furrowed.

“Ani,” Padme sighed, shooting him a small smile nonetheless.

“I think what the General means,” the last member of the group interjected, his low voice easing his companion’s nerves ever so slightly. “Is that when you give your speech, do not focus on him too much. It will only distract you, and…” he drawled, words sounding like a question.

“...it’s something we can unpack later,” the woman finished with a nod, filling her lungs with air before exhaling.

“Good, very good, my dear.” Aged hands squeezed her shoulders before her attention was drawn elsewhere. Her eyes landed on the form approaching them from afar, and it was familiar to her, but it was not the man she was stressing over.

It was a Kel Dorian, a Jedi the woman had seen more than once in her visions. When he was within earshot, the woman hesitated before she opened her mouth. “Koh-to-yah, Master,” she greeted, attempting a small smile. A small effort, a metaphorical hand outstretched to make a good impression, and the man stopped in his tracks upon hearing her. It was difficult to read him due to the mask covering his face, but he bowed his head in return. A choice, to accept the hand.

“Koh-to-yah, Your Majesty,” his deep voice replied, before he continued the short trek to the council room.

“Okay, it shouldn’t be too long now that Master Plo is here,” Anakin explained. “I promise, it won’t be as bad as you think.”

There was no time to reply to him, for the doors opened and the Jedi from before, Master Plo, stepped out. “You may enter, Your Majesty. I do apologize for the wait.” He held out one arm clad in armor, and the woman detached herself from her support group with one last glance.

“Oh, no apology needed, Master,” she assured, voice soft as she passed him and crossed the threshold into the large room. Before her sat every member of the Jedi Council, some in person, some over holocall, but they all gazed upon her in a daunting semi-circle.

Her eyes zeroed in on him immediately, breath catching in her throat and heart freezing in her chest. Obi-Wan Kenobi, with his copper hair that shone in the sunlight that streamed through the many windows, was somehow even more perfect in person than in her dreams, and she did not know how that was possible.

She hoped that her face didn’t give her away, cursing herself for the falter in her stride when they made eye contact. She dismissed it, told herself to give no thought to the way it looked as if the man struggled just as much upon seeing her. That was impossible, a trick of the mind; for she was only human after all.

The young woman was suddenly aware of every aspect of herself, from the way her dress lay as she stood in the middle of the room to how heavy the crown she often wore felt on that day.

“A pleasure to see you, it is, Viarruh Finnall,” came the croaky voice of Master Yoda, and so that was where she chose to focus her eyes as she forced herself to remain calm.  

“The pleasure is all mine, I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to hear me out,” she smiled, as polite as ever in a formal meeting. She did not have much experience with Jedi, but she did have some when it came to being a Queen.

“Of course,” the man sat next to Yoda replied, his hands clasped before him. “What can we help you with, Your Majesty?”

Viarruh took another deep breath, gathering her bearings before she dove into the explanation she could only hope she delivered in a clear and concise way. Her hands reached down and fluffed her dress slightly as her lips parted, nerves shoved to the back of her mind. “How much do you know of my planet’s culture?”

A moment passed in silence, her eyes flitting from one Jedi to the next, before she continued. “Or, more specifically, how much do you know about my family?” Another beat of silence, and she began her little walk around the circle she stood in, movement helping to disperse the nerves buzzing throughout her. “In my family, the crown is passed down from Queen to Queen, traditionally mother to daughter; and that is because we possess something that I understand to be somewhat similar to the Force,” she paused, eyes landing on Obi-Wan subconsciously. He was stoic as ever, hand raised to cover his chin as he listened, and was little comfort in the moment.

“It’s ancient, older than old, and it’s…” she laughed slightly, arms moving about as she spoke. “It’s magic. That’s the only word for it. Some have called us goddesses of the sun, others have called us sun witches; regardless of that, we are capable of things normal humans cannot do. We have a connection to the sun and possess abilities that aid us in protecting our planet, our people. Traditionally,” she sighed, “mother would teach daughter how to use and strengthen these abilities, but I have been without my teacher for quite some time. I haven’t had my master to help me, I’ve been on my own with only the light to guide me in the right direction, and I will not lie to you all. There are things I still don’t know about myself, things I’m still learning. This magic, it only grows stronger as time passes, just as I do, and I have not mastered much yet.”

“Magic?” Someone questioned from behind Viarruh, and she twirled around to face the man. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but magic is not real.”

This reaction was not one Viarruh was unfamiliar with. The condescending tone in the Cerean’s voice did nothing but roll off her back like water. Just as she was about to respond, someone beat her to it. A few seats away, a Togrutan woman illuminated in blue as she called from wherever she resided, addressed her colleague. “Master Mundi, perhaps we should keep an open mind, this galaxy is bigger than you might think.”

The man, Mundi, as it turned out, grumbled to himself but settled into his seat nonetheless. A small smile stretched across the queen’s face, and she lit up with an idea. “On the contrary, Master Mundi,” she raised a finger, and spun around to find the beams of light trickling into the circular room. “Magic is real, and I can show you.”

She stepped forward, hand outstretched before it was enveloped in the streams of warmth. Not a moment later, the light began to shimmer around her hand, golden sparkles covering her skin even after she pulled away. She held it up to show everyone, eyes flitting down the line of people before they settled on Master Plo. The grin she shot him was, all things considered, tame compared to her usual mischievous smirk, but the man did not know that. As the woman floated towards him, all he could think of was Ahsoka Tano, and how she must be a copycat for she looked almost the same when a plan formed in her mind.  

When she finally stood before him, slender fingers were placed on his forehead and the still glittering light showered down and covered his entire body. Warmth filled him to the brim, as if the sun itself was beating down on a summer’s afternoon, and his eyes shut momentarily. When they opened again, Viarruh was still standing before him, hands at her sides but giving him a hopeful look. “Fascinating,” he mused, and the woman chuckled before bowing her head and returning to her spot. Behind her back, Plo made eye contact with Yoda before he nodded just once.

“That,” Viarruh began again, “was only a simple trick, but I feel a good example of how real my connection with the sun is. Recently, it seems I have…unlocked something. A new ability, something I had seen my mother deal with but not something she ever had the chance to help me with. I have been having visions and dreams,” she explained, face serious as she grew closer to the heart of her speech, the real reason she had called upon the Council.

“And they are only getting stronger and more persistent. Every day, now multiple times each, my mind is taken over and my eyes glow golden and all I can see is this war. I have seen it all,” she stressed, nodding her head a few times at the disbelief on some of the master’s faces. “The assassination attempts on Senator Amidala’s life, the Battle on Geonosis,” she listed, eyes wide. “I’ve seen a handful of you fight in battles, seen you risk your lives against swarms of droids. And I see myself, too; fighting with you, helping you and your men bring this closer to an end one day at a time.”

The room was so silent, one could’ve heard a pin drop, if anyone dared to move a muscle, that is. Every Jedi sat frozen in their seats, eyes all trained on the woman in the center of the room, and for a moment she felt like prey being stalked by predators. But she could not afford to let that get to her, let it throw her off her game because she was in too deep now to back out, to lose.

“I know, I know it sounds absurd, but it’s the truth. I have never been so certain about anything in my entire life, as I am about the fact that I am meant to do something in this war. I can feel it in my bones,” her fists clenched to emphasize her words, eyes boring into each and every person they landed on. “I believe that every person in this galaxy has a purpose, something they are meant to do, either for themselves or someone else; and I know in my heart of hearts, in every crevice of my mind, that I am meant to fight with you. My entire life, I have always had an intuition that rivaled anyone around me; sometimes I just know things and I am seldom wrong. I have never been led to believe I cannot trust my emotions, and that is how I know these visions mean something. I see with more than eyes.”

Her feet stopped moving, planting themselves in the dead center of the circle she had been pacing with toes pointed right at Master Kenobi. “Please,” she breathed. “You have to believe me, have to trust me that this is meant to happen.” His blue eyes bore into her, and she could not find it in herself to look away from them. If anyone in this room believed her, it had to be Obi-Wan. He had to know that she saw things beyond herself, that she thought of him every day and maybe, just maybe, she could tell him that she also dreamt of him every night. During the day, it was battles and clones, lightsabers and blaster fire; but at night, it was him. Moments of sneaking affection, fingertips brushing fingertips, late night conversations where no prying eyes could catch them, kisses, soft and sweet and sacred in their secrecy.

When she finally did break contact, flashes of his laughing face being pushed to the side, she looked to Master Yoda. “I love my job, and I love my people, but it eats away at me sitting in that castle instead of being out there.” Her voice shook under the severity of her emotions, the weight of her words and what they meant too heavy to hold steady in front of the audience. “I am absolutely riddled with guilt every time I see a clone fall, or a Jedi get cut down, and I know I can’t save everyone but I know I could do something.”

It had been a long while of Viarruh being the only one speaking, everyone else sitting in silence as she spilled everything that had been occupying her mind for months, so when she finally concluded her speech there was a pregnant pause, a swallowing quiet that left a pit in her stomach. This was it, she had nothing left to add to change their minds, should they send her away with her insane claims and delirious visions. She knew full well how crazy her request was, to want to fight in a war when her days consisted of royalty and sunshine, but it was about doing what was right, not what was easy.

A croaky voice broke the silence, bringing all eyes to a green Jedi huddled in his chair. “Thank you, I do, for coming forward with your visions. Frightening, it is, to share something unknown.” His head bowed slightly, ears moving with him. “Some time, we will need, to discuss things. From the temple, stray not, please.”

Relief, in its purest form, washed over her when his words registered. She was not being sent away with no thought to what she had to say, she was not laughed at for the emotion she showed.

“Of course,” she answered, bowing her head as well. “Thank you for your time. I shall be with General Skywalker in the meantime.” With that, she turned to make her exit, eyes lingering on a copper haired Jedi just a moment longer than they should have before her feet carried her across the room and over the threshold. Behind her, the doors shut and her shoulders slumped, closing her eyes while the sounds of shuffling feet filled her ears.

“Well?” Padme urged, unsatisfied with the lack of information being given.

“They listened to you, didn’t they?” Anakin fired immediately after, and Viarruh was struck with how similar they could be. Two peas in a pod, they were.

The young woman nodded her head, careful to mind the headpiece she wore once it bumped on the wall behind her. “Yes, they listened. No, Obi-Wan didn’t speak to me,” she answered, already knowing those were the two hot questions burning on everyone's minds. “Master Yoda said they would need time to discuss things, and not to stray from the temple.”

“Well, that’s good,” the eldest member of the group pointed out, aged face displaying a hopeful expression. “They could have said no and sent you home, but they’re considering.”

“Ellman’s right,” Padme interjected, face serious now that the first step of their plan was completed. It was only just a day ago that they wondered if they would even be able to do it, and here they were with one foot out the door already. “Now, should they say yes we need to have all of our points laid out for when we speak to the Chancellor. I have everything in my office in the Senate building.”

“I shall accompany you,” Ellman offered, his role as the queen’s main advisor ever present.

“Perfect. Ani, you stay here with Vi while we’re gone, and comm me when they bring her back in.”

“You got it,” he grinned down at her, and her business face melted for just a moment before she had to look away.

“And don’t get into any trouble, you two,” she warned, finger pointed at her husband before going to her best friend.

“Pads, we’re in a sacred temple, what kind of trouble could we possibly find?”

-: ✧

“Is that all you’ve got, Your Majesty?”

Although Viarruh had seen him in her visions, she had never met the young man who had captured her friend’s heart, and so she was not yet prepared for how arrogantly taunting Anakin Skywalker could be. He was caring, that much she could see; he had done his best to help with her pre-meeting jitters and now, was occupying her during her wait at the Jedi Temple. And yet, his voice carried across the sparring room with a challenging lilt curling around the words, solely meant to egg her on.  

“Be careful what you wish for, General,” she warned, eyes bright and sharp and lips pulled into a smirk that only screamed trouble. Her hand shot out and in it formed a staff, appearing in a flash of light right before Anakin’s very eyes, though he still blinked a couple times as his mind attempted to catch up with what had happened. When he finally brought his attention back to the present, he only had moments to duck before the staff made contact with his face. Whatever it was made of, it did not appear to weigh her down as she moved with a frightening grace; and it stood up against a sword meant to cut through anything. She was capable, challenging, even, but she would need more training if she wanted to join them in battle. This was made clear to them both when the match ended with Viarruh’s staff on the ground some feet away from her and the blue blade of a lightsaber pointed right at her throat.

“I suppose you win this round, Skywalker,” she conceded, hands raising in surrender. Just as her opponent went to reply, most likely another boast, he was interrupted by the sound of clapping. Their heads turned in unison, and their eyes widened together just the same. The blade disappeared into the hilt of the saber and the heat fled from her neck, though it returned not a moment later as she registered who she was looking at.

Stood by the entrance was Obi-Wan Kenobi, hands coming down to clasp behind his back. “Impressive,” he mused, and the sound of his voice meeting her ears in person nearly knocked her over, but she remained steady as he started moving towards them. “It seems I taught my padawan well.”

“Yes,” she replied after realizing that Anakin’s silence was a push for her to speak up. “It seems so.” Her eyes cut to the man beside her, and he knew he would be in trouble later.

“And you, Your Majesty, are quite the fighter. I didn’t realize how frightening you could be.” By now, Obi-Wan was in front of the pair, looking at them with crystalline eyes. Viarruh tried not to think about how she looked at the moment; their fight had been long and was easy by no means, and she could feel the sweat gathered on her brow all the more under his gaze. She knew her hair was a mess on her head, having been knotted when she hastily removed the crown, and she didn’t dare look down to see if her dress was crumpled and crooked. She only prayed to Maker that it wasn’t as she stared right back at him.

“It comes in handy,” she quipped, heart skipping a beat in her chest when his smile widened.

The moment, if it could even be called that, was shattered when Anakin finally decided to make his presence known once again. “So, Master, what can we do for you?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes didn’t seem to want to leave the woman before him, but they eventually flicked to his former student, and he had to clear his throat before speaking. “Ah, yes, the Council wishes to speak with you again, Your Majesty.”

“Of course, just let me grab my things and we’ll be on our way,” she smiled, before turning to her new friend. “General, would you please comm Senator Amidala and Advisor Ellman while I speak with the Council?” She had already started to walk away from the men when the answer came, and she did not have to look at him to know he was grinning at her.

“Yes, yes, I can do that, Your Majesty.” She turned to squint at him, hands running through her long strands when, to her horror, he started to walk towards the exit. “I will go do that right now.”

Her fingers forced themselves to resume their movements as she turned away again. She found herself alone with the man she believed to be her soulmate, as if her nerves needed anything else to buzz over. When she did spin around to face him, he was already looking at her. Her cheeks burned even more, but in spite of it she held her hands out, gesturing vaguely to the crown now on her head as she made her way back to him. “Look good?”

Once again, words seemed to stick in Obi-Wan’s throat when her eyes were on him. He stuttered slightly in his reply, and cursed himself silently. “Yes. Looks good,” he nodded, suddenly shy in front of the queen. “To the council room?”

Viarruh was intuitive, and on top of this particularly beneficial trait, she also read people for what they were. Not much got past the Queen of Orret, and so she dared to let herself believe that what she saw was, indeed, true.

Obi-Wan was nervous.

“Lead the way, Master,” she smiled, swallowing her chuckle when she noticed the shade of pink dusting over his cheeks as he led her out of the room.

The corridor was long and dimly lit, the evening sun casting a golden hue across the walls and floors, and though her shoes were the only noise for the beginning of their walk, Viarruh had started to settle into herself; muscles relaxing and mind easing as she felt the warmth of the man next to her. They were not touching, not even close enough to brush arms, but she still felt him. For a moment she wondered if this would only make her miss him more when he was no longer around her, but a small voice in the back of her mind told her she was a fool to think it wouldn’t.

“Your Majesty?”

Her heart still skipped a beat when his accent rang in her ears, but she was no longer fighting for breath and composure. He was comfortable to be around, she had decided.

“Oh, please, Viarruh is fine,” she assured, smiling at him in an attempt to prove to him that it really was fine.

He hesitated for a moment, but not a second later did he nod his head before flicking his eyes over to meet hers. “Viarruh,” he corrected, and oh, Maker, her name had never sounded so pretty. “May I ask you something about your visions? I know you are to speak with the Council about them, but I was wondering if you could tell me when they started?”

“Uhm,” she stalled, remembering back to the first vision she ever had.

She had just settled down in the plush and intricate chair sat at her desk, fully intending to complete some work in the late hours of the night, for something had been nagging her though she could not figure it out. It had kept her awake when she laid down to sleep, and so she had eventually wandered her way around the castle and ended up in her office. But as she reached for the holopad she felt…funny. A feeling washed over her, starting at the crown of her head and showering down to the tips of her toes, and it had happened so fast she hadn’t had any time to react before breath stuck to the back of her throat and eyes glowed bright like the sun that hung in the sky. Her lips were parted but only quiet choking sounds escaped her as her head fell backwards, face pointed to the high ceiling but she was not really looking.

No, her mind was taken over and it was like she wasn’t even in her office anymore. Instead, she was on Coruscant, stood in the darkened bedroom of her best friend. She could not move, she could not speak, only watch as insect-like creatures crawled towards Padme’s sleeping figure. Could only watch as two Jedi burst into the room, blue blade illuminating the darkness as one of them cut the creatures in half.

It ended there, whatever it was that had happened to her. Her eyes slammed shut before snapping open, air rushing into her lungs as she gasped, almost falling forward onto the desk in front of her. With a heaving chest she did her best to push herself up from her seat on shaky arms before she dashed out of the room. Bare feet carried her to the meeting room where she punched in Padme’s comm code, and she anxiously waited for her face to appear in blue, but cried out in frustration when there was no answer.

Worry prickled at every nerve and dread had settled in her feet, making it hard to even move her legs as she rushed to the only room she could think of; Ellman’s. She couldn’t move fast enough, tripping on the ends of her sleep gown numerous times, and she practically flew into his door. She was gasping, mind racing over every possibility as her fists bangs on the door, and she didn’t know how she was still standing by the time the man answered the door.

His eyes were squinted as he tried to make out who was in front of him, and in her frenzy Viarruh almost yelled at him, but there was no time to raise her voice as words spilled out with no end. They were frantic and jumbled together, and it was the alarm bells it set off in his mind that fully awoke him. “Viarruh? Viarruh! What is it?”

His questions fell on deaf ears, and strong hands tightly grasped her shoulders. “Viarruh, calm down! I need you to breathe!” He shook her a few good times, successfully putting an end to the stream of panic falling from the woman’s lips. Her eyes were wide as they finally focused on him, and she was slightly trembling in his hold.

It was a rarity for the queen to get so startled, handling her nerves well on any other day despite the horrors of her childhood, but that was not the case on this particular night. “Vi, what happened?”

“It’s Padme, I—I saw something and when I commed her, she didn’t answer, and—”

“Slow down,” he urged. “What do you mean you saw something?”

“I was in my office, and s—something happened, it was,” she stuttered, shaking her head as she struggled for words. “Do you remember when I told you I had a weird feeling earlier today? I couldn’t sleep, so I went to my office.”

“Was someone in there with you?” He interjected, but she shook her head again.

“No, no, it was just me; but I did see something. It was like…like a vision. I got this funny feeling and then I couldn’t breathe, it was like I was choking on nothing and then I couldn’t see.” Her hands fisted the front of his shirt, words speeding up again the more she spoke.

“You couldn’t see, but you saw something?”

“I’m being serious! It was like—like a vision! I was staring at the ceiling and then something happened to me and it was all gone, all I could see was the vision and I saw Padme!”

Viarruh did not catch on in the moment, perceptiveness dialed down in her vulnerable state, but Ellman seemed to be paying more attention now that she had revealed what she had experienced. His brows were furrowed as her words bounced around in his head, thoughts zooming this way and that as he thought back to when he was working for her mother, and all the things he’d witnessed her do and he remembered visions being one of them.

“What happened to her in this vision?” His voice was low and as serious as could be, no longer high pitched in worry, and in the darkness of the corridor his face was almost grave.

“There was something in her room, and it was crawling towards her while she slept and then two Jedi burst into the room! I tried to comm her when it ended but she didn’t answer, and that only  makes me think something bad really did happen to her! Ellman, what if she’s in trouble? What’s happening?”

“Listen, listen,” he soothed, taking a half step closer. “This is because of your powers. Your mother had visions, but I can only imagine how frightening it was when so unexpected.”

“My mom had them?” she mumbled, wide eyes staring up at the closest thing to a parent she had.

“She did. I don’t know much, unfortunately, but I do know that this was going to happen eventually; you’re far too perceptive and just plain lucky to have it skip you. What it is, well, to my understanding it could be a number of things. The past, things that have already happened revealed to you; the present, seeing things as they happen in real life; and the future, though that is never a certainty. Things change, but you can see these things. Now, what you saw with Padme could be any of those things, I’m afraid I have no answers to give with that, but we will investigate more in the morning. More people are likely to answer our calls, and we will be of sound minds,” he assured, one hand coming up to smooth over the back of her head. “Please, My Lady, let me escort you back to bed.”

“With the assassination attempt on Padme’s life. The one you and Anakin were around for,” she answered, keeping it short and sweet.

“You saw it?”

“I did,” she nodded, fingers playing with the fabric of her dress. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” he dismissed, looking away from her and she had a creeping suspicion that he was not telling the truth. Nonetheless, she nodded her head before allowing herself a moment to take him in. He wore the plastoid armor similar to that of the clone troopers over the top half of his robes, and his lightsaber hung off his waist, shining and magnificent. He was more handsome than any man she’d ever seen in all her life of travels and meetings, negotiations and balls. Stuffy princes didn’t hold a candle to him.

“I see,” she mused, voice verging on playfulness. It was nice speaking to him, actual conversations instead of snippets of exchanges captured in dreams. “Well, let me ask you, do you ever see things?” She glanced over him, brows raised and lips curling upwards.

Her question settled into Obi-Wan’s mind and debated how truthful he wanted to be with his response. All his time and energy went into the Jedi Order, and fighting this war. He was strong with the force and worked to keep his balance, and he was a clever and impressive General in the GAR; but from time to time he saw her. Not often, not as often as she had visions, it seemed, but when he got the rare moment of rest, he could hear her voice and almost make out her face. When in battle, surrounded by blaster fire and chaos, he sometimes felt her presence next to him, swearing he saw her and a warm glow in his peripheral, yet when he risked a glance she was nowhere to be seen. It had started when he overheard her speaking to Padme the morning after the attempt on the senator’s life, voice slightly distorted over the holocall but still ringing pleasantly in his ears.

But was this something he wanted to admit to? Something he wanted to reveal in the corridor of a Temple that frowned upon attachments? But to lie to her, the thought of it made his stomach churn for some reason.

“Yes, I suppose I do,” he settled, voice almost far away. Viarruh tilted her head slightly, contemplating the thoughts behind his eyes before he cleared his throat, seeming to come back to her. “The Force works in mysterious ways,” he nodded, grinning when the woman chuckled.

“That, I can understand. Perhaps you see with more than eyes, just as I do, Master Kenobi.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed, looking straight ahead as he prepared himself for his next comment. “Though I don’t think there is anyone quite like you out there.”

Obi-Wan, while pleasant to be around, was becoming almost flirty. His voice was smooth and his accent curled his words nicely, as sweet as honey. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she could not stop it, could not prevent a full on, toothy smile growing on her face. The doors to the council room were in sight, just up ahead, and she looked as unserious as she could possibly be.

“I think you’re right,” she whispered, turning to face him when they were only a few feet before the doors. “But the same could be said about you.” She cleared her throat, wiggling her arms a little to reset, now looking at her companion with determination. “Wish me luck, I’ve got to speak with the Jedi Council.”

“Now that you mention it, I have a meeting to attend. Good luck, Your Majesty.”

With that, the doors slid open and Viarruh made her way inside the large room once again, the presence of Obi-Wan Kenobi following her. When she reached the middle of the circle, he passed her and settled into his seat, and the added distance between them lessened the ease she had previously felt. Nerves began to settle into her again, as even Obi-Wan’s demeanor changed to that of a more stoic man, a Jedi wise beyond his years sitting amongst the council.

“Your Majesty, we’d like to thank you again for coming to us to speak,” the bald man sat next to Master Yoda began, voice just as serious as it was before. It was difficult to read him as he spoke and she found little comfort in the way his face remained stoney. “The information you presented to us is much appreciated, and has caused lots of discussion within the Council. If you don’t mind, we’d like to ask you some questions.”

“Of course, I don’t mind at all, Master…?”

“Windu, Your Majesty,” he answered, bowing his head.

“Master Windu,” she repeated, nodding her head at him with a small smile. “Ask away.”

“What is your goal?”

Vague. A broad question asked simply and to the point, and it caused the woman to tilt her head ever so slightly. “My goal?”

“Yes. What is your goal in all of this?”

“Well,” she sighed. “Short term, I suppose it’s to convince you all to help me do what I can to join the war,” she gestured vaguely with one arm, holding the other out as she spoke again. “Long term, to do what’s right. To make a difference. To help people. Is that not everyone in this room's goal?”

“We are bound by oath,” came the voice of Master Mundi, interjecting and almost cold. “We are warriors of peace and fight to bring balance back to the galaxy, per our oath to the Jedi Order.”

“I am also bound by oath,” she countered lowly. “I was born into a position of power. I’ve held it all my life, and when I was just fourteen standard years old I obtained the highest rank you could possibly get on most planets. The responsibility may not be the same as yours, but it is a great one nonetheless; to keep people safe, to represent them, to protect them, that is what I do. And the oath I made was to always do what is right, what I need to do regardless of whether it is easy or not, whether it makes sense or not. And the Clone Wars are hurting people, and the Republic’s enemy stands for things that I would rather die fighting than let become the status quo in our galaxy. We may live different lives, Master Mundi, but our goals are very much the same.”

“You are very dedicated to this,” a male Nautolan observed, and all eyes turned to him. “It’s easy to see that this means something to you. I believe you when you say that our goals are the same, but this is still a very unusual situation, Your Majesty,” he explained, frowning slightly towards the end of his sentence.

“It is, I know that,” Viarruh assured sincerely. “But as unusual as it is for you, it is the same for me.”

“Your visions, hear more about them, may we?” Yoda questioned, pointing a clawed finger in her direction.

“What would you like to know?”

“Are they of the future?” Someone else questioned.

“Not entirely,” she answered, shaking her head. “My understanding is that they are things revealed to me because they need to be. It could be something from the past, I can see things as they are happening, and sometimes I do see the future, but you all know as well as I do that the future is never set in stone. Prophecies and destinies aside, seeing a vision of something that should happen doesn’t always mean it will happen.”

“What is the extent of your powers? What can you do, exactly?”

“I can do lots of things,” she chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. “But I already told you that they’re still developing, I still don’t know what the extent is.”

“I saw a demonstration of Her Majesty’s abilities in the sparring room, and it was most impressive,” a familiar voice entered the conversation, backing her up as she stood under the eyes of the disbelieving. Her chest warmed as she caught his eye before they flicked to the next person to speak.

“Sparring room?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan answered smugly. “Her Majesty sparred with Anakin, and held her own for quite some time. I could only imagine what she would be like with just some formal training.”

Murmurs filled the room, soft and blended together, but she gathered that Anakin being her opponent was the hot topic. “Impressive, that is,” Yoda confirmed. “Needed, a demonstration is, perhaps.”

“I can give you a demonstration,” she promised, hand already coming up to point at the copper haired Jedi. Her palm faced upward, slender fingers curling slightly as she made miniscule movements. At first, no one was aware of what was happening, Obi-Wan being most confused of all, but then he felt a little tug at his belt. He looked down to see his lightsaber moving here and there, before it eventually lifted off his thigh and unhooked from his waist.

His mouth opened in shock, and he didn’t need to look to know he was not the only one, as they all watched his lightsaber float through the air, right into the hand of Viarruh Finnall. She ignited the weapon, blue blade shooting out from the hilt and bathing her in the cool hue. And because she lived for the dramatics, she twirled it around, a move that was like muscle memory to her, the whirring sounds of the energy blade filling the room. When she finished, she retracted the blade and her hand fell to her side.

“While I did lose my fight with Anakin Skywalker, I have won many more. I am not helpless, and I do not give up easily.” Her eyes bore into the council members one by one. “And I am not afraid, I was not built to be and cannot afford to be.” She continued to spin around, intending to make an impression on every person she looked at, and she knew it was successful from the look in each of their eyes. “Sometimes it is not enough to just be against darkness. If you have the ability to, should you not use the light?”

The severity of her tone and words had lodged itself in the chest’s of the Jedi Council, and before them stood not the naive queen they thought was coming to their planet. No, stood before them was Viarruh Finnall, Goddess of the Sun, the Sun Witch, Queen of Orret, in all her wisdom and confidence. She was passionate and unyielding, she was caring, and she was strong. This young woman, whatever she had gone through in her lifetime had made her tough enough to bear the weight of leadership, to dive head first into a war that she was never obligated to join, to look an evil in the face and stand steady against it.  

“If we were to say yes,” Master Windu broke the silence, sharing glances with those around him. “What would be your next course of action?”

It took her a moment to calm herself, dispelling some of the intensity in her words as she turned to look at the man. “Well, should you say yes, I would need to speak with Chancellor Palpatine next. I chose to meet with you first because, although the Chancellor makes the final decisions, having you all to back me up would speak louder to him than I ever could on my own. You, of course, are not obligated to, but it would be most appreciated if I had someone to accompany me to speak with him; and depending on his answer, I will head home,” she explained with a note of finality, clasping her hands in front of her.

“Home?” Master Mundi interjected, leaning forward in his seat.

“Yes,” she answered simply, looking right at him.

“And what do you plan to do about your status as Queen while you fight in this war? You cannot do both.”

“I would give it up.” She stated, in such a way that it seemed the answer was obvious. It did not weigh heavy on her tongue as she spoke matter of factly, though it did put pressure on her chest, bones feeling as if they could cave in. “My birthday is in a matter of weeks, and though it may seem frivolous, celebrations are quite the talk back home,” she explained, flicking some hair over her shoulder as she resumed her movements around the center of the room. “I will use it as my opportunity to announce my retirement from the throne, and present who I have chosen to replace me; her coronation will come only days after. Then,” she shrugged. “I’ll go wherever you tell me to, and I’ll do whatever I can.”

It seemed, for a frightening moment, that she was unable to get through to them. They all stared at her, mouths closed with no intention of opening to speak to her, and her shoulders grew heavy, fighting to slouch forward as the feeling of defeat tickled at her bones. She held her breath, eyes flickering between the men in front of her. Obi-Wan held contact before he looked away, seemingly speaking to Master Yoda without using words, and she clutched the hilt of his lightsaber a little tighter, the metal warm from her hold on it throughout her speech.

As she glanced towards Master Plo, a frown almost dipping the corner of her lips downwards, she missed the nod Obi-Wan sent his elder, and the one following from Mace Windu. Her attention snapped back as a throat was cleared, and eyes had returned to her, though the tone had shifted ever so slightly. Almost indiscernible, it was, but she saw it and dared to let hope bloom in her chest.

“Speak to the Chancellor, we will. Tomorrow,” Master Yoda decided, sliding down from his chair, beginning to make his way towards the woman. “To your home, I will go with you. Train you, I will.” When he stood before her, large eyes gazing into hers, he placed one hand over the other on top of his staff as it stood in front of him and he was the picture of wisdom.

For a moment, she did not have any words. She had said so much since she’d arrived at the Jedi Temple, but now that she finally had an answer from them, she had nothing to offer the Council. She was frozen in her stare with the green Jedi, lips parting ever so slightly as his words rang in her ears. “Thank you,” she breathed, relief making her feel so light it almost lifted her off the ground below. She blinked a few times, gathering her bearings as reality began to set in that she had done it.

“Easy, it will not be, Viarruh Finnall,” he promised, shaking his head.

“The things worth doing usually aren’t, Master,” she replied, when the hole burning into her became too much and she looked up, meeting blue eyes already looking. Obi-Wan smiled at her, blowing his head in a silent congratulations, and she smiled. It was similar to the one he had managed to get from her in the corridor, and her success coupled with just knowing him now made it impossible to stop it.

Master Windu was the next to rise, the others following suit, and the tall man joined them in the middle of the room. “When we speak to the Chancellor tomorrow, you will have our full support. All we ask in return, is that you follow through with your word,” he explained, holding his hand out for her to shake.

When her hand slipped into his, enveloped by the gloved and armored one, a familiar feeling washed over her quicker than ever, and she gasped loudly, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room. Obi-Wan pushed his way to the front, almost overwhelmed from how loud everyone’s voices were once they blended together in panic, before standing beside the woman but she was not seeing him. Her muscles tensed and her back straightened as she went rigid, fingers clamping around Windu’s hand tightly, and he attempted to pull away in alarm; it was a struggle, but he was eventually able to pry himself out of her hold as her eyes glowed brightly. Her brows were furrowed and breath was stuck in her throat and she looked almost pained, and it made Obi-wan’s heart clench in his chest. It alarmed him, how seeing her like this affected him, but there was no time to think about it as his hands grasped her shoulders.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!” he called, shaking her slightly but she remained frozen, golden eyes staring past him. Even when he grasped her face in his large hands because the choking sounds escaping her as air tried to fight its way to her lungs were scaring him more, she didn’t see him. His thumbs pressed into her cheeks as he turned her head to face him, almost yelling at her. “Viarruh! Breathe!”

When this very thing happened at home, no one could get through to the woman after her eyes lit up and she stopped breathing; screams and yells falling on deaf ears as her mind was taken over, but as she watched herself creep through the forest with a squad of clones and Mace Windu at her side, a voice echoed from somewhere. Who it belonged to, she could not tell, but it was comforting in its familiarity and lifted the pressure from her chest; everything became clearer as if a layer of dirt and grime had been wiped away, the plastoid armor glinting in the sunlight of the trooper who passed her. Outside of the vision, the blockage was removed from her throat, ripped away as oxygen rushed into her, and light burst out of her.

It was as if they were no longer in the council room, the group of people huddled together now standing in the same forest of her vision. She did not know they were there, could not feel them still, but they saw everything she did as it projected from her. They watched as everyone trekked on, the only sounds being the crunching and rustling of foliage and the sounds of wildlife in the distance; as Viarruh faltered in her step, causing the soldier behind her to bump into her, pushing her forward a few steps. Though, it looked as if she had paid it no mind, instead holding her hands out as if to steady herself, eyes flickering around before landing on the Jedi ahead of her.

And they could only stare as Windu continued on, having not noticed the absence to his left, and Viarruh lurched forward to reach him quicker. “Mace, no!” she yelled, grasping his shoulder to throw his body backwards, pushing him and their squad away from the pressure bomb cleverly disguised; but that also meant she was the closest to the explosion. The onlookers flinched as they were surrounded by heat and light and the deafening blow, watching in horror as the queen flew through the air, rolling backwards when she collided with the ground. She didn’t move much after her body settled, but Obi-Wan could see the way her eyes were blown wide, not seeming to focus on anything as she blinked. She didn’t respond to the calls of her name, not even noticing the people slowly searching for her, the ringing in her ears blocking out everything around her.

It was Windu who found her, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes as he walked up to her. “Viarruh,” he called, and it wasn’t until he saw movement to the side, and turned to see her leg poking through the tall grass. When he stood over her, he cringed slightly at the injuries he could see, and so did everyone else. Blood covered her face, dripping down from her hairline and smearing across her cheeks; parts of her shirt and vest were singed, still smoking, telling them she had burns as well. “Viarruh,” he tried again, and she only looked at him with wide eyes, giving him no indication that she heard him. He reached down with both hands, placing a couple fingers on her cheeks to move her head side to side, inspecting for anything else, and Obi-Wan was relieved to see nothing.

“Come on,” Windu grunted, picking her up and placing her on her feet, slinging an arm over his shoulder as he supported most of her weight. Then, the scene shifted, the same light as before filling the room before it all zapped into Viarruh, hitting her with a force strong enough to push her back a few steps when it collided with her chest, causing her to gasp loudly. Hands reached out to keep her upright, holding her steady on her feet as her eyes snapped shut before reopening, back to normal.

She was panting, gulping air down like she had been drowning, and the first thing she heard when she returned to the present was the worried voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi, his hands on her arms, having been the one to reach out to catch her. “Viarruh, are you alright?”

“That one was different,” she responded, shaking her head as her mind ran a mile a minute.

“Was that a vision?” Windu questioned, leaning closer to the woman.

“Yes,” she nodded, eyes finally raising to meet those of the man that still cradled her. “But it was different, this one wasn’t the same as others.”

“Viarruh,” Obi-Wan called softly. “What do you mean by ‘it was different’?”

“Stronger, it was stronger,” she answered as the group of Jedi began to back away from her, giving her space now that she was back with them. “And I…could hear someone.” It confused her, left her wondering, because she had never heard anyone in her visions like that, never felt anything but alone as she lost control of herself.

“We didn’t hear anyone,” Mundi noted, looking around at the others. “Other than yourself and Master Windu.”

“Wait,” she jerked around, confusion growing more and more by the second. “Did you…did you all see that too?” She was met with nods from everyone, and she could only stand there in a stunned silence as her thoughts ran a mile a minute.

“Viarruh?” Obi-Wan questioned softly after there was still no response from the queen, and turned back around to face him.

“It…projected?” Her face was still twisted in disbelief, the events taking place sprouting question after question in her mind. The man nodded his head to answer her, raising his brows at her tone.

“Is that also newly unlocked?”

She had again looked away from him, eyes staring down at the floor as the dots began to connect, as the answers became clearer. “Yes,” she answered in a dazed voice. “It is.” It was the only reaction she could give him as realization dawned on her, showering over her as her gaze shifted upwards; it focused on the busy planet on the other side of the large windows, the sky turning a pleasant rosy orange as the day settled and plans were now in motion.

all works on this blog belong to hesthermay.tumblr.com: do not copy, repost onto other sites, or claim my content as your own.

#the witch: writes #—star wars #—signed; kenobi #obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan x you #obi-wan x oc #obi-wan fic #obi wan fanfic #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan fic #the clone wars #the clone wars imagine #tcw #tcw imagine #obi wan imagine #star wars imagine

[divine-donna]

lights! camera! action!

in honor of hotd’s golden globe win, have just this random shitpost of an au for the hotd cast.

aka. movie star au! (i also saw someone edit ewan to be aemond on the red carpet so that also inspired me)

anyways where do you see yourself, or your oc, fitting in this au? i’d love to know!!

ser criston cole

say hello to ser criston! or just cris, as you’ve come to call him. a stuntman making his acting debut in the new drama, house of the dragon. compared to his stoic persona, he is very goofy. laughs a lot and can never do one take. being serious is not his forte which only makes his acting chops a lot more impressive. he also laughs when he’s nervous and he’s constantly nervous around the more experienced people. doing combat scenes with him is super fun and he always makes sure his costars, and even you, are alright. does his own stunts. formerly worked on the game of thrones show (according to rumors at least).

“the princess rhaenyra is brazen and relentless. a spider who, haha. spiders. a spider who strings and sucks her prey dry. hahaha. i’m so sorry guys. can i get some water please?”

daemon targaryen

daemon is an experienced actor with a lot of films under his belt. however, he’s most prominently known to have starred in lots of b movies, particularly of the horror genre. he’s given his characters depth but the critical reception has really shrouded his talent. house of the dragon, then, is proof that he can act. and, most importantly, that he’s a good actor. he acts with professionalism and enjoys spending time with his costars outside of work. he does have a loyal following that are willing to watch anything he is in but also, he’s been single for a long time. dating just isn’t in his mind until he meets you.

“that was a really great shoot today. anyways, (y/n), do you want to join me and the others to grab some food? we’re all quite hungry and want to wish the children goodbye and good luck on future projects. kind of sad they’re leaving.”

rhaenyra targaryen

rhaenyra targaryen is a famed stage actor. outside of theatre and drag, they are not well known. house of the dragon signifies their serious television debut. rhaenyra is queer, using they/she pronouns, and presents masc outside of the show. they bring a unique perspective to their character and are well respected in the theatre and drag scene. they got into performing through drag and was even featured on a reality show for a brief time. they become a queer icon once making their television debut and can’t be any happier with their success.

“are those chocolate covered almonds? can i have one (y/n)?...thanks! say, there’s something i want to try with my character. spare me a minute so i can run it by you?...you’re the best!”

alicent hightower

alicent has quite the filmography to brag about. she’s been an actress since she was a child, thus she has as many films under her belt as daemon despite the latter being much older than her and having more experience. she is especially known from her role on a teen show as the sweet protagonist (who everyone eventually got fed up with after 8 seasons of no character growth). so playing a complex character like alicent lets her show off her acting chops while also metaphorically shedding her image as the good teenage girl. you can find her hanging out with rhaenyra or yourself.

“what made me want to take this role? well, it was a chance to grow, you know. and such a devoted mother, wife, woman, has layers to it. it just goes deeper than what i have done during most of my career. and to bring this woman to life is such a great honor.”

aegon targaryen

aegon targaryen is the leading man with a lot of fans and a role in an ongoing multi-movie franchise. a chris evans, if you will. his most notable role is as a righteous man, someone so morally upstanding. so to play someone like aegon provides him with a challenge. he loves the new material and to finally be something different! he’s also very much like criston, always cracking up during his lines and making jokes. he’s always bringing refreshments to set for everyone and there are nothing but good things said about him.

“oh wow. did you get me a smoothie (y/n)? you didn’t have to, y’know. i don’t mind getting you stuff....oh, you just wanted to? you are very sweet. maybe we can go grab some food after this shoot is done.”

aemond targaryen

the newbie. he’s only acted in soap operas and dramas but he blows up after his debut on house of the dragon. aemond becomes probably one of the most popular actors after his debut. his inexperience makes him nervous and after the takes are done, he’s always apologizing and asking if his costars are okay (like with luke). he’s mostly played sweethearts in his roles, so his character is a new change of pace. sometimes, he does need a pep talk from you because it is very intimidating to be working around such experienced actors and actresses like rhaenyra and alicent!

“i am so sorry if i was too aggressive. are you alright?...okay thank god! i was worried that i had pushed it too far....it was a good take? oh wow! thank you so much for the compliment (y/n)!”

helaena targaryen

the it-girl and a rising new talent, helaena is the hottest new actress. she rose to prominence with rom coms and many people feared she would be categorized as a rom com actress from then on out. however, helaena is not one for formulas! she starred in a tv series that went against her rom com image and a dramatic film that had critics praising her for weeks on end. house of the dragon is one of her many endeavors to expand her craft. she is also on the more famous side compared to some of her other costars and has a large social media following, hailed as a style icon.

“(y/n), you want to take a picture with me on the iron throne?...cool! weirdly enough, this is very comfortable....oh, are you cold? here, you can have my jacket. it gets quite chilly on the sound stage.”

jacaerys velaryon

jace has dipped his toes into acting, mostly in comedies because his comedic timing is amazing. but his primary source of income is as a model and a musician. he’s written a few songs solo and heads a punk band. house of the dragon represents his dramatic debut. and a lot of his fans don’t recognize him at first when he comes on screen until they look at the credits. nevertheless, he brings in new fans for his band and his numbers on social media sky rocket. he is a bit of a goofball like aegon and has a large storage of memes for the groupchats.

“hey (y/n), (y/n). why did the bike fall over? because it’s two tired! hahaha, sorry, sorry. i will stop telling you corny jokes. i know you secretly love them.”

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #ser criston #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #aegon the usurper #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #hotd au

[accio-victuuri]

CPN : Candies from Sunshine By My Side ( filming wrap ) ☀️

I may miss some minor candies but that’s just how it is cause people may interpret things differently. It’s just so nice to see new content from and XZ, and the fact that Sheng Yang is so cute! can’t wait to meet him!

some things already discussed previously:

night light fake rumor

same sun emoji used

disclaimer : everything below is cpn, speculation and interpretation that is very bjyx bias. if you’re not into that then please leave.

━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━

I wanna start with ZZ’s general aura and disposition during the wrap, and how happy he was. It’s really nice to see him be among a group of people that seems to dote on him and that he can be comfortable with. You can probably see some double standard talk going around, that yes, during CQL wrap, he was also happy — however, in the last day, there were moments that they both looked sad. Also the airport photos of GG next day where his eyes were swollen — from crying probably. Add one of the CPNs that they both cried when the filming ended inside their car. So yeah. As much as I see him happy, it brings me back to the bittersweet ending of CQL. I won’t add any video/photo evidence of this anymore because it’s a well-known fandom CPN.

I also just remembered how much of a jiejie collector XZ is. LOL. If WYB collects geges, then XZ collects jiejies. That’s what I noticed with his interactions towards his co-star. I think she’s another jiejie who is now doting on XZ. 😂😂😂😂

Moving on to the other CPN clues, starting with some usual fandom symbols that we see. I love adding those to every post because it shows how consistent they are. for example the logo animation of XZS where GG talks about the Moon. like how many times did we make a CPN between them connected to the 🌙? these might be hard to spot for new turtles or those who aren’t into cpns.

sunflower, the legendary fan given by wyb, red heart, apple watch — need i say more? for the drawing, i’m not sure if ZZ made it but the wink did it for me cause he usually does that. i mean, even WYB’s black panther was winking. sooooo… The 10:05 is a given, but the 10:23 is a nice one cause we’ve been associating him to 23 ( Ai Zhan / Love Zhan ). I have also been thinking about this number because for XZS lantern festival game, they are giving away 23 desk calendars. so specific.

this imagery from the vlog compared to WYB’s single video is just so similar. the sunshine allowing plants to grown. whether that me be literal or metaphorical. how they view the world is so hopeful 🤍🤍🤍 and this is why they get along so well. there is really no way they wouldn’t be close, even if they didn’t end up playing WWX / LWJ. I believe that somehow, they would find their way to each other and still have the relationship we think they have. 🌱

and yes, we know that this was part of the filming process. at the start, XZ planted it and during the course of the shoot cared for it and watched it grow. but the similarity in their message to people and to the world. I can’t. this is some next level coincidence and connection.

The use of words that are same/similar to the captions of Hidden Blade’s weibo account is next. It’s one of those things that I think XZ is purposely fucking with us. It’s not like you can claim that he copies HB, because they do not own those captions on their posts. it’s just words. However clowns will know — what are the chances that he is using the same/similar? Mister eloquent himself who also has a team that does his videos. It all seems intentional.

• “plant your own sun” / and then HB is always putting suns on every 100 million they get in the box office. the intention in XZ’s words is like, do it yourself. like a person works hard to get their success. similar to what happened to HB, they have very little backing and it’s because the movie is actually good that it’s getting the recognition.

• 春回大地 the return of spring. It’s from a chinese idiom which means that spring returns to the earth. It is described that the severe cold has passed, and warmth and vitality have come to the world again.

• 逐光而行 follow the light / 与光同行 walk with the light.

there is also a cpn going around about the sound you can hear from the radio. I am the last person to verify things like this but can you hear wuming? 💀💀💀

but I think the correct explanation is, what it’s actually saying is “how do you rate it?” ( or something like that ) and because of the sound manipulation, you can sort of hear wuming. this is not the first time XZ puts things that he purposely wants us to mishear. lol.

that’s all for now. i am still waiting for an actual trailer from this drama + one & only so we can have proper FMVs of Sheng Yang and Chen Suo. The AU / Parallel world Yizhan pairing to rule them all 😂😂😂

-END.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here folks im just clowning like i always do #cpn talk

[necle]

Kujo really seems to really take the “star” metaphor to a pretty… extreme extent.

Yes, a “star” is more commonly used term to describe a celebrity or an idol, and we do see other characters used it more colloquially (e.g. Iori’s infamous “superstar” line to Riku).

But almost every time Kujo uses it, he uses it in a very grandiose way.

Even since he was introduced, the way he describes a “star” feels analogous to its astronomical counterpart stars. Which, while a little strange, is not particularly out of place. For most of these instances, I kind of just brushed them off since on its own it felt coincidental or just an ambiguous word choice.

However, how he often incorporates other celestial objects and weather phenomenon as part of his analogy is what makes this interesting.

“Going beyond the rainbow” is one reoccurring saying that comes from him. Tsumugi, and now more recently Gaku, have also quoted a similar line, though hearing it from Kujo feels a slight jab towards IDOLiSH7, even if unintentional. In this analogy, he describes how his star “rises” above a rainbow, above the earth into space. This feels like he views his stars, particularly Zero, as someone who was “above” what’s earthly; someone who does not exist in the same attainable realm as other people or beings.

This would explain the following lines:

Not only the sun, moon, and stars, are all objects that live for an incredibly long time (billions of years, pretty much “eternal” as far as a human lifetime is concerned), they are all objects that are born of and exist only in outer space. But an aurora is something that is expelled by the sun (solar wind) and enters the earth’s atmosphere. Given what an idol is suppose to represent (the dream, the ideal, what is “above” a normal human, etc), Kujo probably finds Zero’s desire to chase auroras disappointing. At least a rainbow is something that is from earth, and stays in its place on earth. But an aurora leaves its high and grandstanding place from the sun, and brings itself down and onto the "lowly earth".

Some other misc and stuff I haven’t figured out yet (feel free to stop reading because this mostly rambling and speculation):

Iori here is describing the effects Riku (currently?) has on his fans. And while he does not go as nearly as detailed as Kujo does, he does describe Riku to be a black hole.

Coincidentally, as you may probably already know, a black hole is one of the final ending stages of a star, for stars that are beyond a certain size and solar size.

(fun fact: this star will also continue to grow incredibly large, called a red supergiant. ISo Iori, you might want to leave off making Riku a superstar for a bit)

Kujo however, had used a different analogy to describe how IDOLiSH7 (and possibly Riku) may reach their end:

(Yes, I know a “shooting star”/meteor is not the same thing as a star though but if we are talking about analogies, it may not matter to Kujo)

(With the last two images, I am interpreting that it can alternatively be read as a “rain of stars” or a meteor shower. Please correct me though if it can only be specifically read as only water/snow/ice rain.)

Granted, Iori is describing present day Riku and not an almost dying one, and Kujo’s lines may be completely unrelated or just a separate analogy altogether. But I wonder if this may be alluding to a slightly different in fate Kujo thinks IDOLiSH7 Riku would have compared to Zero? Personally, I do think Zero does feel like a “black hole” (at least with Kujo). But I don’t know if I feel Riku to be the same yet, other than beyond what Iori mentioned with his fans. It could be that both Iori and Kujo could be right, and that they think Riku still “bursts” in a way, like a supernova. And the debris from that burst might be what Kujo is describing to be “drowns the earth” in a rainfall.

#kujo takamasa #takamasa kujo #Zero (IDOLiSH7) #i7s3spoilers #necle's ramblings #in which local astronomy nerd reads way too deeply into story’s star analogies #sorry if this is disorganized especially the second half #i had written this back when Kujo first mentioned the aurora thing but kept putting it off #i did NOT expect the last episode to happen the way it did #incidentally i had written a fic about how kujo feels like someone who is falling into a black hole. and the star was Zero #but it was mainly because zero is MIA #i really did not expect to hear ‘black hole’ from anyone much less Iori #honestly this series writing is incredible. its things like these that make me love the series so much #idolish7

[ow-anteater]

For me for me please sir can I get a Ramyatta with number 36 whatever that may be?

Coming right along good sire, #36 Heaven Sent by The Steeldrivers

Shake my head and I wonder how / I'll ever get to heaven now

Time does not treat him gently, but he is learning to do so himself.  It’s one lesson into the next like dominoes. First came the dull realization that few hands would ever touch him gently, then the wisdom to not let himself be counted among his advisaries.

“Brother, would you forgive me?” he’d asked the night sky, his voice hushed and tense. He remembers still, the first time, with Mondatta right there beside him, not in the flesh - he’s had to forcibly scrub every easy human metaphor from even his most intimate thoughts - but in something warmer and more real than that. Right there beside him to hum thoughtfully and say:

“It is not my place to do so.”

Back then, the words had welled into his chest like tar, staining even the parts of him the crisis had left unscathed. Now, the memory wells up in overwhelming clarity, the details crisp and almost searing. The thing it leaves behind now is warm and sure.

“Would you now?” he asks now, his chin tilted up so only the scant stars catch the sound. The sky is covered in dappled gray, forever clouds lit up and burning by a million lives unfolding beneath them. At times, he misses the clarity of the monastery, the serenity, the sharp cleanness of the sky just after the first snowfall. And yet he’s grown fond of this as well.

A world wrought from violence and fear yet painting the belly of the sky in a flighty, bleeding brush. His own fists shine dully, flashes red and green with the traffic lights flickering on and off right outside his window. 

The hazy monk who inhabits his memories never answers his query. It’s a step, he’s trying to convince himself, to freedom and revolution and justice. To his own apotheosis.

He hopes he gets to go gently in the end. Gently and forgiven.

Time will wither him, he can already feel it. He grows slow and blunt now that Anubis can no longer support or upkeep him. He has a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't change much even if the god program still hummed along somewhere out there. He was never meant to outlive his maker. He has much to do still, and little to atone for. 

“I will forgive me,” he tells the unblinking stars, the two brightest one that peek through the cloudlayer. A satellite spins and travels in a sinewy line over the sky; a machine shooting star to fasten a machine dream upon.

#ramattra #overwatch #overwatch 2 #do NOT point out that this is extremely similar to the first one hcu<ijas #not my fault it landed on two very similar songs in vibe for me #anyway #ram and mortality anyone??? #also first proper yeehaw warning of this game

[msclaritea]

Wes Anderson on his new Roald Dahl film: ‘No one who is not the author should be modifying somebody else’s book’ – The Irish Times

Wes Anderson, the director of The Royal Tenenbaums and Asteroid City, has a celebrated eye for detail – right down to the choice of instruments for each score, according to the composer Alexandre Desplat, his regular collaborator.

The film-maker selected glockenspiel, triangles and other puppet-sized noisemakers for the percussion for Fantastic Mr Fox, and traditional taiko drums for the Japanese-set animation Isle of Dogs. When he made The Grand Budapest Hotel, he hung pictures of the characters, created by his partner, the costume designer Juman Malouf, around the hotel where the cast and crew were staying.

But even the best-laid plans can be meaningless when it comes to moviemaking, according to Anderson, who tells a story about The Darjeeling Limited, his Indian odyssey from 2007.

“You try to take control of it, but when you make a movie you’re saying, ‘I’m going to invite chaos into my life.’ When we made The Darjeeling Limited in India, we prepared everything very, very carefully. But it took us to strange places. We visited this little village, and we wanted to do a shot there and we needed a hut. And the elders of the village said, ‘We can build you the hut.’

“So we came back two weeks later and the hut was perfect, and we said, ‘Thank you very much. We’ll see you on Tuesday.’ And when we came back on Tuesday the hut had been decorated with all these flowers and swirls, and they painted it pink and blue. But the scene we wanted to shoot was a funeral.”

Anderson has certainly paid attention to detail today. We are at a hotel on the Venice Lido, during the city’s film festival, to hear about his new movie. When the director arrives he is wearing a tailored shirt the colour of the Adriatic Sea outside. Like the candy-coloured pinstriped suit he wore on the red carpet the day before, it’s a very Andersonian hue.

Dev Patel (left) as Dr Chatterjee, Ben Kingsley as Imdad Khan and Richard Ayoade as Dr Marshall in Roald Dahl's The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar. Photograph: Netflix

The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, which stars Ben Kingsley, Benedict Cumberbatch, Ralph Fiennes and Dev Patel, is the first instalment of an anthology of Roald Dahl adaptations; three short films based on the short stories Ratcatcher, The Swan and Poison are in various stages of production.

“Henry Sugar is one of the friendlier ones,” Anderson says. “The others are the more familiar darkness of Dahl. Ratcatcher is very strange and a bit disturbing. I think The Swan is one of his best stories, and it’s extremely dark and quite brutal. Poison has an emotional brutality to it that’s pretty striking. It’s very early. We’re adapting stories that are from another time, with dated language. We’ve kept it how it is.”

This is not new terrain for Anderson – that big-screen interpretation of Fantastic Mr Fox dates back to 2009. He had been planning to adapt The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar since a sojourn at Gipsy House, Dahl’s family home, in Buckinghamshire, some 20 years ago. The Dahl family, represented by Felicity Dahl and Dahl’s grandson Luke Kelly, set the rights to the story aside until Anderson could figure out a way to untangle the nested stories of his childhood favourite.

“I was planning this for a long time – years and years and years,” Anderson says. “I probably wouldn’t have done it except that I realised, reading the story to my daughter, that what I liked about the story is how Dahl tells it. I like his voice, his description, his metaphors and the way his words bring it to life. And I thought, well, maybe I can do that with a movie. That’s how I figured out that it had to be a short and that we had to use Dahl’s words.”

Benedict Cumberbatch as Henry Sugar in The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar. Photograph: Netflix

That Fiennes, an Anderson regular, plays Dahl in a replica of the author’s study adds another layer to the mise en abyme of this 39-minute film. Its plot, or plots, run thus: the rich, idle man of the title (Cumberbatch) happens upon a journal detailing a guru (Kingsley) who can see without using his eyes. Sugar sets out to emulate that skill so that he might cheat at cards. Things do not go according to plan.

Following on from the stylised Asteroid City, the film swaps out scenery, casts actors (including Rupert Friend and Richard Ayoade) in multiple roles, plays with dollies and camera movement, and engages in Brechtian high jinks as Fiennes rattles through a slavishly faithful framing script.

“We loved making it,” Anderson says. “We loved working with Benedict Cumberbatch and the wonderful Ben Kingsley and Dev Patel and our old friend Ralph Fiennes. For this movie we needed actors who could take pages of text and bring them to life. Some actors are great at moments, but you would not ask them to go perform this play on stage. It’s not their thing. Their thing may be spontaneity, but it’s a different kind of work. English actors tend to be able to do everything. At the last play I watched in the West End, I sat down at the end to make a list of names on the playbill.”

Benedict Cumberbatch as Henry Sugar and Ben Kingsley as the croupier in The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar. Photograph: Netflix

Anderson’s fidelity to Dahl’s text runs counter to the recent move by Dahl’s publishers to edit language gauged as offensive out of his work, a revisionism that Anderson has repeatedly denounced.

“I really don’t like it,” he says. “If I bought a painting – let’s say a Titian – and Titian called me up and said, ‘You know, I always thought there should be a little girl in the background of the painting; if I could just come over and fix that.’ I would say, ‘I’d rather you didn’t; this is my Titian.’ I feel that if somebody writes a book or somebody makes a film and it goes out into the world, then it’s ours. It’s too late to change it. And if I don’t believe that the artist or the author themselves can change his or her work, then the idea of somebody else changing it? I don’t even want to start that conversation. But, certainly, no one who is not the author should be modifying somebody else’s book.”

[ Yes, Roald Dahl sometimes got it wrong. But it isn’t up to us to make it right ]

That said, he has reservations about some of his own completed works, notably The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou, a pretty failure that remains a source of disquiet for its creator.

“I’m a little bit obsessed with what I should have done differently,” Anderson says. “This goes to, like, the scheduling of the movie, the budgeting. It was a very, very big movie. It was very complex. It was the kind of movie where if you’ve made it once then you really know how to do it. We went 20 days over schedule. We went $10 million over budget. We struggled. I have got so many ideas about how we could have improved it in the cutting room. Maybe let’s just leave it at that.”

The layered storytelling of The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar fits neatly with the director’s similarly complex recent features, notably The Grand Budapest Hotel, The French Dispatch and Asteroid City. That’s hardly accidental.

“I read it when I was probably eight years old, and it was doing a thing I had never seen before. There’s a story within a story. You meet a character and he says, ‘Let me tell you something,’ and then he tells a story inside of the story. I think my recent films all probably come from Henry Sugar in the first place.”

Anderson grew up in Houston, in Texas, the son of a writer and an archaeologist. He was a huge fan of Dahl and of the New Yorker film critic Pauline Kael. (He organised a private screening of his movie Rushmore for the critic on the eve of her retirement. Her response? “Did the people who gave you the money read the script?”) After graduating from the University of Texas he relocated to California, where he and his friend Owen Wilson wrote Bottle Rocket, which Anderson now describes as “the film that’s least like me”.

“I wanted to be like Spike Lee,” he says. “He’s one of the reasons why I became a film-maker. I was so inspired by She’s Gotta Have It. And I read his book Spike Lee’s Gotta Have It back in 1987. I tried my best to just follow his roadmap, which didn’t work at all. I didn’t even get into NYU. So I had to find another way.”

Wes Anderson not Spike Lee

His other way has brought together a regular troupe of actors and collaborators. Owen Wilson, his former roommate, has featured in seven films; Willem Dafoe, Anjelica Huston, Tilda Swinton, Edward Norton and Adrien Brody have appeared in five apiece. Desplat has composed every Anderson film since Fantastic Mr Fox. Robert Yeoman has served as director of photography for all of Anderson’s live-action films. Adam Stockhausen, his production designer, has been on board since Moonrise Kingdom, his 2012 film. These recurring credits coalesce into a recognisable style even though Anderson says he always believes he’s making something completely different from before.

“The idea of not doing things as they are normally done – you’ve got to find out how it’s normally done first,” Anderson says. “And that has happened over the course of making the movies. The best people to ask are the people I work with. People like Sanjay Sami, my key grip. He has expertise and irony. He has watched us deconstruct the way people make movies and find our own ways. And that’s fun.

“Each of the collaborations is so different. With casting it’s almost like a recipe: how are these people going to mix together? With Bob Yeoman the preparation is quite simple. We used to watch a lot of movies together before each movie, but now we’ve communicated about all these things so much, we have a well of shared references. He knows where I’m going. With Adam Stockhausen, we work mostly by email. We go scouting. The process tends not to be very preconceived. It’s a discovery process and research.”

In 2005 Anderson relocated from New York to Paris, where he has remained ever since. He loves being an American abroad, even if his French is not all that it could be.

“Until I was 23 years old my life was only in Texas. I had travelled a little bit in America. But the parameters of my life were compact. The people I knew lived in a small visible space. But I was always interested in movies. And movies were from everywhere. They were my way to get out and see the world. And the more I saw, the more I wanted to get out and see. I like the idea that having breakfast can be an adventure. And when you’re in a foreign country sometimes that’s exactly what it is. In Paris, just walking in a different neighbourhood is like going to the movies. I like the feeling of being a little bit outside of the place where I live.”

The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar is on Netflix from Wednesday, September 27th

It's too bad that Wes Anderson feels the way he does about Life Aquatic. That's the only one I like. So weird! I was also studying Brazilian music at the time. Seu Jorge became a favorite.

[fishys-still-writing-smut]

Warning: Lewd content below

Kinktober day four!

Prostitution: (Sonia/Rantaro)

Rantaro's adventures have brought him to many distant lands before: an Amazonian nudist colony, a secret billionaire orgy club, and whatever the hell was going on at Hope's Peak University. However this was a whole different ball game to him. Well, metaphorically speaking of course. He's had sex at ball games before, yet even those weren't as crazy as this.

"Ooooh, so this is one of those famous red light districts!" Sonia remarked with an innocent twinkle in her eyes. "Fascinating! I'd be sure to purchase at least a few servants for myself."

Yup. This was him. Arms locked with the heir of a foreign country, browsing the back alley prostitutes like they were celebrity gossip magazines at a bookstore. He'd go over how he got in this situation, but that story was a bit too long and involved way more BDSM than he was comfortable sharing, so the sparknotes of the situation were as follows:

Sonia was horny

Rantaro made a joke about prostitutes

Sonia missed the joke

Regret

Rantaro found out prostitution hasn't even been conceptualized in Novoselic

Even more regret

Sonia wants to fuck a prostitute

"So Rantaro, have you ever purchased a hooker before?" Sonia asked innocently, which was more concerning than endearing.

"T-that's…geez. Listen princess, you don't just ask people about that stuff y'know?"

"Oh! I'm sorry. Should I use the word whore instead?"

"No!"

"Slut?"

Rantaro facepalmed. "Y'know what, just drop it."

"Drop it where?"

…

…

…

"Moving on." Rantaro managed to reset his cool persona. "Sorry princess. I've never done this before either. I'm just as in the dark as you are."

"Really? I would've bet my crown on the fact that you've participated in these activities at least once." Sonia sounded incredibly surprised at Rantaro's confession, which caused his eyebrow to rise playfully.

"Oh really? And just what does that mean princess?"

"You definitely have the body of a model, so you could easily be a, how do they say, wrestler?"

"I think the word you're looking for is 'hustler'. And I'm flattered by the compliment princess, but I really ain't that type of guy."

Nonsense! Even someone as royal as I would partake in naughty acts for the right price!" Sonia declared very unlady-like in the middle of the empty alleyway. Rantaro tried his best to keep his laughter inside, but couldn't contain it any longer.

"Oh really? Y'know what, shoot for the stars champ. Gimme a price and I'll drop my pants here on the spot." Rantaro laughed into his hand. Was he being a bit too rude? Of course. But what's life if you don't take the chance to tease a princess about prostituting yourself?

"Challenge accepted!" Sonia pouted, sufficiently annoyed by Rantaro's shit-eating grin. She then dug into her pockets and pulled out a fat roll of cash.

"Oooh, so close princess. But I'm afraid-"

"No, I'm afraid that you don't quite understand me." Sonia cut him off as she reached into her purse, and pulled out a miniature fortune. Rantaro's eyes couldn't help but go wide at the site as Sonia began flicking his belt buckle

…

"GHLSH GLSH GLRP." Sonia performed a very messy fellatio around Rantaro's member. Her eyes were watery, her nose was running, and her mouth was drooling. But despite her incredibly perverted actions she never once took Rantaro's dick out of her mouth. She was getting all of her money's worth with this one.

Meanwhile Rantaro, pushed against the alleyway wall, was counting the inconceivably large sum of money he just received. He smirked as he watched the princess below him choke on his massive cock. He shoved the money into his baggy pants pocket as he prepared to embark on his next adventure: "exploring" the body of the future queen of Novoselic!

#danganronpa smut #kinktober #DRnevermind-18 #DRamami-18

[alligatorjesie]

Find something different to defend to the death. Like idk, a classic book or smth. Or a movie that was actually good and had cultural impact (not the Star Wars sequels, only the prequel and og trilogy had impact. The new shot is blatant milking from a capitalist shitstain company that would rather its employees die in their cars from starvation than give them a livable wage.) or maybe go take a literature class and learn abt subtext and themes, and narrative equivalencies, and be able to understand that real life affects fiction (1984) so logically, the reverse must be true. (literary tropes and monsters becoming mainstream, concepts and phrases from books becoming so commonplace nobody can even remember where they came from, a lot of things abt Sherlock Holmes and how so many things from that series of stories affected real life police and detectives and how they were perceived. these are all examples of fiction affecting reality and peoples perception of it.) you are being a clown for no reason. Take off the mcdonald shoes and put on your big girl ones.

What kinda fucking cocknozzle sits there and tells someone else that the thing they like ain't worth defending then shoots a fucking fat turd of a paragraph trying to explain why?

Yes, that's what I want. A fucking prick telling me the thing I love is bad because they don't fucking understand it.

Ya daffy fucking cunt. You probably don't know fucking dick about botany but that don't mean the kudzu that has been slowly choking the entirety of the fucking southern states of America suddenly isn't a fucking issue anymore because you don't understand what the flying fuck it is.

Things can mean many things to other people even though the point can evade you, and fuck me sideways, a lot of information looks like it evades those two brain cells you got knockin' around. Let's help you out by pointing you to a few metas since you can't seem to understand the cultural impact these movies may have had on some people: Musically Ben and Rey mirror one another.

Another music study on Ben and Rey's leitmotifs because John Williams don't fuck around and understood the fucking assignment.

Reylo is just reverse anidala and you can see this shit with your fucking eyes closed

Rey has a lot of fucking reasons to be absolutely fucking furious but chooses the high road and how we can all learn from that.

Rey and Ben are ying and yang.

They cover that topic a lot because it's not fucking subtle.

Kylo Ren and the five stages of grief

The color red is in The Last Jedi a lot and it's not fucking accidental.

More on the topic of blood and the color red used in these movies.

The trilogies are all metaphors for growing up.

The Force Bond was set up in The Force Awakens and it's really fucking obvious.

Another one.

And another one.

Many of these metas, specifically the force bond ones, were made well fucking before The Last Jedi came out if that tells you how fucking obvious the bond was going to be in the plot structure of these fucking movies moving forward.

You remember this scene?

Yeah John Williams knew full fucking well reylo was gonna be a goddamn thing

Really fucking obvious Beauty and the Beast parallels.

Snoke is a dragon from ye olde fairytales.

The canto bight scene and it's cinematic parallels to My Fair Lady

Just to name a fucking few.

There are literal lists upon lists of these fucking metas on tumblr.

Listen, I could go fucking on there are countless metas floating around on this very fucking website that covers just... fucking everything dealing with The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi.

Not you Rise of Skywalker, we don't fucking talk about you.

These 2 movies alone gave us so much fucking content that even now 8 years after their release we can still dive in and catch new shit. That ain't fucking shallow you dense motherfucker.

Just because you watched these movies with your head rammed up your ass so fucking far you can only see shit doesn't mean they are shallow works with zero cultural impact. They don't mean dick To You. They mean quite a bit to many other people who ain't fucking stupid.

I may be a clown but you're a fucking joke.

#Anti talk #reylo #'I hate this thing therefore it sucks' #HONKA HONKA

[itsthemysterykids]

Mystery kids vs Mickey Mouse

Lili: Okay. How do you take out an evil dictator?

Norman: We… Cut off their resources?

Lili: *Writes that down* Okay, that’s good. What are Mickey’s resources?

Wybie: His long-time fans, influence over young girls who enjoy princesses, his cruise ships, game shows, Marvel and Star Wars geeks, and Fox.

Lili: Fox?

Wybie: Fox. I don’t even think they can curse anymore.

Lili: … Okay, we need to take this bastard out right now!

Raz: Let’s just shoot him!

Dipper: You think it’s that easy? No, he’ll just come back stronger than ever. We need to get rid of him the same way they did Walt Disney.

Mystery Kids: …

Coraline: No… No, that’s just a myth.

Mabel: We’ve been on the inside long enough to know that it’s not a myth. Walt Disney’s body is being preserved in his statue.

Coraline: So we’re really gonna freeze Mickey?

Dipper: It’s our only option! We need to get rid of him permanently.

Neil: How would we even do it?

Dipper: The company wants to look progressive in order to erase the… Ugliness back when Disney was still new.

Wybie: You mean like that movie with the rabbit who was just a metaphor for slavery?

Dipper: Yeah, that’s the one.

Wybie: And the deleted scene with the black centaur girl?

Dipper: Yes.

Wybie: And the crows?

Dipper: That too.

Wybie: Those Siamese cats, romanticizing Pocahontas and John Smith, What Made the Red Man Red?

Dipper: Yes, all of that. Well, I say we do something a little drastic.

Neil: You mean we find those lost tapes and threaten to air them unless Mickey comes here to “meet our demands” and that’s when we freeze him?

Mystery Kids: …

Dipper: … Y-yeah, basically. Let’s go find those tapes.

#coraline #mystery kids #paranorman #gravity falls #psychonauts #the mystery kids #ask stuff #answered ask #take down Disney

[lilaceas]

tear

sky is dark & leopard coat fur in the hills are white sleepy little girl drown betwen fire & an illusion marry me & torture me & fold your wings in a carousel of real horses wild & i pretty if dare to disturb a king of thunderstorm grow up & lie & to nit collapse with open eyes see & what have we done when everyone is full of shit clowns & peaches through millions of buckets a daughter tattoed perfection in her forehead plays as a dead women smashing her own car with one husbands skull—babyblue with velvet eyes; to the singing of mother-bird protection are jesus locked in a jail & not, blaming sweet red tones of her lips & flowery skin on skin make & kill my hit on down & lullaby a magical morning & a terrible night when nightmare woke me two shoots & throat i lied but some secret empty cloud blooms— nest where whore's name same as mine her little one lies. yonder he asked for my number but losing games to watch ginger breads over the casket see a star,—with a twisted gloss rock & roll & robbots song; the soft dew under lingerie a owned hear it calling— & twinkling the night eyelid along. cities full of nails polishes strap your face & door open but nobody came through the window a lover & lancôme gift comes,—gold moon misty wings; all silently kept you out & get down the floor you'd cut this pussy no one will care why the green excepts flies away, it asks, is he sleeping is he moaning why i keep buying lies i'm so blind on the hotel with religion behind my ballerina feet hurting aching & addicted to a metaphor that said snowflakes are the worst & you didn't knew how nice trying is the best when you commit murder for— dreaming awake monsters in my head treasures treating while mother sings? from the north sea glass of floats the sobbing of the waves & valley of shadows the scariest story happens all the time with clocks off that are breaking upon the store & though flowers crown of pain defformity & doctors finally went hospital to come back as dirt & say forgive me they were groaning in anguish they are washing her clothes to see him again for an instant & moaning my name make me feel unreal & sad a tear never left a mark buy me candy & prostitutes i give you eternity & a kiss out your mouth you can tell who am i & why you'd smell so bad from laying with women that looks like me but talk so indifferent you say true she's mine & not you ugly as hell brunette not long hair not my type say no clues i wanted to be around— bemoaning death sentence trying to initiate her lufe you promised me it was destroyed that there's nothing of us in your idiot brain my name are in trash & romance didn't exists. that shall come no more. sleepy & fold your wings,— babyblue will never be babyblue you crazy bitch boy with mournful eyes cutten open & not moaning?—see, i love another man, swinging in nothing & calling me every time you enter in the room where i'm at—where my darling lies. the storm-king speeds up at são paulo from the north europe to-night, & leaves me lonely & not breathing nicotine exhaling money smell & my poetry is for him, god & jesus sing up & down but not sad or blaming some & head on & tornadoes a break is all mother wants in silently bedrooms we lived as we were one & two souls are too less for me pushing me & using me & try me & look me in the face close your eyes when your birthday cames wish my love & its so clear wishes are made to not be realised, i wonder why because you don't touch your cellphone therefore four months ago when i came from ontario eating cookies & drinking chocolate milk missing your warmness & tenderness please don't say you're sorry commiting suicide is a temple not one stays where am i going now i saw you in your car singing & may i just don't need you any more then its fear that make two of us apart this king wild went flight the crown my breasts in snowflakes a drink & i go & i sing too within you & i'm on platforms as ever & find me & cannot remind where am i at am i by your side in the bed sucking your cock with you anesthesy & incounscious better sex.

#writing