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esther-dot · 1 year

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I have seen different takes of Sansan and how they react to the Hound abusing Sansa. Those who believe that Sansa deserves to be punished and marry Hound are actually Sansa antis. Some believe that what Hound was doing is teaching her life truth and because of him Sansa learns humility. Then there are fans who knew Sansa is a good girl and Hound did abuse her but they think Sansa could redeem him and he will be her knight. All of them are doing injustice to Sansa.

It is a great injustice to Sansa to downplay her fear and minimize the very real threat the Hound was.

Sansa hugged herself, suddenly cold. "Why are you always so hateful? I was thanking you . . ."

"Just as if I was one of those true knights you love so well, yes. What do you think a knight is for, girl? You think it's all taking favors from ladies and looking fine in gold plate? Knights are for killing." He laid the edge of his longsword against her neck, just under her ear. Sansa could feel the sharpness of the steel. "I killed my first man at twelve. I've lost count of how many I've killed since then. High lords with old names, fat rich men dressed in velvet, knights puffed up like bladders with their honors, yes, and women and children too—they're all meat, and I'm the butcher. Let them have their lands and their gods and their gold. Let them have their sers." Sandor Clegane spat at her feet to show what he thought of that. "So long as I have this," he said, lifting the sword from her throat, "there's no man on earth I need fear." (ACOK, Sansa IV)

Let’s not minimize what he’s doing here. He assures her, he kills women and children, while his sword is pressed against her skin. The Hound's casual violence, consistent threats, aren't erased just because he didn't want others to rape her. In the end, he attempted to do so himself which means all of these instances where he intimidated her need to be accepted as what they are—not rewritten as if he didn’t mean them. He did have that potential all along, and it’s a horrifying dynamic as a result.

I understand AUs change the dynamics and ages, but in canon, so much of the interaction is the Hound being cruel and terrifying Sansa, there is nothing enjoyable for me there. Also, it's a pattern that he saves her and then threatens her, so rewriting the assault as something else isn't a fair reading. We were told from the beginning he might protect her from other threats, but he was always a threat as well.

The silence went on and on, so long that she began to grow afraid once more, but she was afraid for him now, not for herself. She found his massive shoulder with her hand. "He was no true knight," she whispered to him.

The Hound threw back his head and roared. Sansa stumbled back, away from him, but he caught her arm. "No," he growled at her, "no, little bird, he was no true knight."

The rest of the way into the city, Sandor Clegane said not a word. He led her to where the carts were waiting, told a driver to take them back to the Red Keep, and climbed in after her. They rode in silence through the King's Gate and up torchlit city streets. He opened the postern door and led her into the castle, his burned face twitching and his eyes brooding, and he was one step behind her as they climbed the tower stairs. He took her safe all the way to the corridor outside her bedchamber.

"Thank you, my lord," Sansa said meekly.

The Hound caught her by the arm and leaned close. "The things I told you tonight," he said, his voice sounding even rougher than usual. "If you ever tell Joffrey … your sister, your father … any of them …"

"I won't," Sansa whispered. "I promise."

It was not enough. "If you ever tell anyone," he finished, "I'll kill you." (AGOT, Sansa II)

We do not need to allow Martin’s skill at getting us to see someone’s humanity erase what Sansa suffers at this man’s hands. Her pity doesn’t negate his threats.

#sansa stark #anti the hound #anti sansan #dot chat

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wortsandall · 2 months

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Jake Lockley-the lies we tell ourselves au

buckle in, this one's long next

my biggest inspiration for this whole au was this man right here. mostly from reading fanfiction and thinking-who is this man to me? and noticing the pattern that jake had become kind of one note.

the fanon jake lockley had become a kind of stereotype-the rough macho man, slinging Spanish and banging ladies-and rarely did I see anything go past those interpretations. now there's nothing really wrong with that and I don't mean to shit on anyone's perception or enjoyment of the character.

in the show, the only things we know are that

he fronts in violent moments to get marc and jake out of a bind

he speaks spanish

he has to be the one who asked the woman out at the museum

and thats exactly why we get the jake that we often see.

personally, I just wanted to explore beyond that. maybe as a black person as well i found that one note portrayal to almost be in poor taste and starts to infringe on some Latino stereotypes even if it's not purposeful. (again you do you. and I don't mean to speak over any Latino voices who may feel differently)

but jake to me can go so much deeper than that. the framing of him as the "violent" alter is so harmful when it comes to D.I.D. we all remember split. those that are uninformed about disorders like D.I.D usually don't see the harm that can come in that kind of portrayal or can be dismissive. I don't have D.I.D myself, but I do have an unfinished psych degree focusing on abnormal psych and dissociative disorders and a LOT of free time.

my main point being that I didn't want jake to just be the violent alter. it was so obvious to me that jake engages in violence as a form of protection. and that alone brings so much more depth to his character. jake only fronts in the show to get them out of a dangerous situation. and when he doesn't have to kill-he doesn't. like with the kid.

so jake immediately screamed protector to me. and the violence that comes as his form as protection is the most effective that we've seen. it's not about making sure that marc feels okay with what's been done or happy. it's about keeping them physically safe.

tw for discussions of abuse, bullying

the show shows us that marc, and in extension all the boys were abused by their mother. it may be jumping to conclusions but my next thought would be that's where jake gets the violence from. and I don't mean that he enjoys it or wishes to hurt people like he was hurt as some sort of outlet. but that now they get some kind of control over when and how they are hurt.

to make some more leaps, I thought that it's not far-fetched to believe that there could be bullying in their childhood due to potentially being seen talking to themselves. or if I wanted to make it sadder, for being both Jewish and Latino. I've seen my fair share of mixed people being forced to "pick" one or being ostracized for not fitting in the way they are supposed to.

hell, I'm fully black and have had to deal with not fitting the standard due to the way I speak, or dress, or what music I listen to, etc. if something like that was going on, I can imagine dots being connected. that in order to be left alone-violence can actually be the answer.

my mom beats me -> I tend to stay clear of her as much as I can -> these kids are bothering me -> I can make them steer clear of me

and if I'm hurt -> then its my choice -> a side effect of being in a fight -> not something done on purpose to me

I imagine that's jakes origins. he's not great for anything else in his eyes, that's all he's used to. marc wouldn't register these fights as anything abnormal. marc sees himself as broken and angry, and even as a child I think that's what he would boil these fights down to. he wouldn't remember the specifics of it-just the aftermath. feeling so angry then nothing but seeing the bully on the ground holding his nose. and just fill in the blanks for himself.

as a physical protector, jake's concern is physical safety. as they get older and they end up in psych wards or other mental facilities after their dad's growing concern about the out of character behavior. (steven, not knowing how to be covert) jake would be more aware. they are in this strange place, away from what's familiar and being treated like an invalid.

I think jake would front much more often, even if he's just watching from a corner of marc's mind. he'd be used to that kind of hyper vigilance. I don't want to demonize mental health facilities, though I know that a lot of them can be very harmful. but I don't think marc would be the one causing "trouble" in there, nor is steven.

this is where the other alters that I want to add for this au to come in. where marc remembers these wards as no big deal and steven has zero memory. but jake remembers more of the unpleasant aftermath caused by outbursts of a different alter leo. I'll get into him and what I imagine his character to be in a different post but just know that this is leo's origin: the wards they were in and out of as a teenager.

I think that once they left, they weren't fully an adult. maybe 17, about to turn 18 but marc hits the bricks. tired of his mother's abuse and his father's enabling of it. I imagine that in those couple months before 18, marc would rather be anywhere else. and jake would be the one helping with that, guiding marc without him realizing. turning them away from potential areas of danger, fully fronting in order to fight off a robber. I don't think this would be a long period-maybe a month or two. and that's why marc thought they could just leave until the military. (jake, tired of being the one to watch marc's stupid ass would wish that marc had just toughed it out at home until their 18th birthday. their mother was a known danger, the streets are not)

joining the military and everything after is mostly marc. jake only fronting similarly to the show, in life and death situations. steven and the other two alters wouldn't be fronting at all. and in these long year periods is where I think jake's role would change slightly. as marc learns how to better protect himself on his own, jake would become more of a gatekeeper. maybe not a great one, still concerned more about their physical safety than anything else.

"survive. don't die." that's jake's priority. so in these combat scenarios it is impertinent that alters who can't fight, won't. in this sole endeavor, he becomes a gatekeeper. anything that might trigger steven and the others gets heavily locked down. he has a tight hold on the front, making sure only he or marc could possibly do it. I can't imagine he'd be able to keep that tight hold at all times. maybe there's small moments where their guard is down and any of the others could front for a moment. but for the most part, he's successful.

and when he gets tired of this, maybe the others are starting to front more or marc's fatigue starts to impact him, he makes the decision that in order to stay alive, they have to go. and that he's the one who tried to leave in a fugue state.

we all know what happens next and fast-forwarding through that, jake has less of a need to front. marc has the suit now. but jake is still a gatekeeper. marc's belief that steven and everything that came with that was over is partly due to jake keeping them all neatly held back and marc unaware.

due this backstory of jake's I don't imagine him getting out much. he hasn't had time for much else and doesn't know who he is outside of protecting them. after their mother's Shiva, I think jake would be the reason why marc and steven's life start to recombine. that he'd notice how shaken marc is after her death and know that it's not a problem that he can fight. so steven starts to front more, taking the brunt of these emotional moments. jake takes an even further step back, thinking steven has his role. as a caretaker and emotional protector this would be good for marc.

in this relative calm, where marc is trying (and failing) to balance his life and steven's, jake has a lot of time on his hands. maybe he watches how marc crafts a fake life for steven and thinks that it'd be nice to have one of his own-but not know how to go about it. he's never really been a person. in his eyes. he doesn't know how to be. so maybe he takes a small step on asking out the woman at the museum (I can't remember her name or if it's ever been mentioned, sorry)

thats the last part of fanon jake that I would like to dissect. I know in the comics I've read (and its only the 2016 and 2021 ones I apologize for that) there are references to this "woman-loving" personality. there are scenes where marc, steven, and jake are all talking and jake is in a club environment with dancers. and for me, it's never read as him being some kind of playboy hounding or thirsting after woman. in most of these scenes, jake is namely talking about finding community and people to care for in the rougher crowds. the crowds that might frequent these types of areas and crowds.

that's what I'd like to focus in on. jake may be a part of a system but it is a fairly isolated one. and part of that is due to his choices, but that doesn't mean he can't yearn for community. jake would be around during the time that marc was with layla. I imagine he'd probably have fronted a number of times as well. jake wouldn't know to navigate more emotional and intimate moments making him uncomfortable around her. he's covert enough to pretend to be marc in day to day scenarios, but not this. at the same time he'd see the way they interact and clearly love each other and become envious. so when he gets a chance, he tries it out for himself. though he never gets to go on that date.

all this to say jake lockley is aroace. he wants connection, community, family. due to circumstances both in and out of his control he'd never experienced that. and the couple times he has, it's been in a romantic sense. so he tries to copy that, thinking maybe that will be the key. but it isn't. he doesn't need that. he just needs some form of intimate connection to help him learn and remember how to be human. not just as a weapon, not just as a human shield. but as a person with his own wants and needs and personality outside of what the system wants.

that's my jake lockley.

the lies we tell ourselves au masterpost

#tlwto au #moon knight #moon knight thoughts #moon knight system #moon knight comics #jake lockley #jake lockley meta #marc spector #steven grant #my writing #current wip #writers on tumblr

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dapper-comedy · 5 months

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Edmund bowed low, not something Caspian could ever imagine seeing his grandfather doing often to anyone, so this had to mean that these people weren't just the regular snickering noble. Eyeing his grandfather, then quickly glancing to the fancily dressed people before them, he mimicked his grandfather, only noting a quick snort at the back of the throat from the boy, before he ducked his head down.

"Your highness. It's an honor and a privilege to be in your presence, and even more so to be invited to such a regal and elegant affair," Edmund spoke, and Caspian nodded, though his eyes danced around the ballroom, as if not really sure where to focus. It was definitely *alright* but the music was a bit slow.

Words were exchanged, words that Caspian didn't really care to understand, as Edmund was usually the one to organize whatever affairs Caspian would be pushed into. The man infront of them, his wife's arm looped in his, smiled, and gestured to the two children at his side. The boy seemed to straighten his back, though quickly reached up to scratch at his collar, while the girl kept her eyes to the ground, bowing her head slightly in acknowledgement.

"My son, Prince Leonidus Vivious Beoworth, and our esteemed guest and close friend, Penelope Rei, daughter of Lord Rei." And he looked pointedly to Caspian, who smiled brightly in response without saying anything. There was a silence, one that confused him, and he glanced up to Edmund, who glared down at him, arching an eyebrow.

Ah. "Oh. I'm Caspian." Another pause, before he added in quickly, "Caspian Thornmere! Your grace."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the girl's lips twitch slightly in a smile, and he puffed out his chest, knowing full well she was amused, and took pride in that fact. Edmund, however, turned back to the king, smiling politely.

"Forgive my grandson. No doubt he is somewhat... overwhelmed to be in such grand arrangements such as the ones you have so graciously provided us this lovely night. Perhaps, and forgive me if it be impertinent to ask, but perhaps it would do him some good to entertain the young prince and lady? We are only so new in your hospitable kingdom, and no doubt it would do my grandson good to serve and entertain the people he will be lucky to serve with in the future."

And while Caspian did not find himself *alone* per se with the two kids, he definitely sidestepped enough to stand beside them.

"Hello." He whispered, as Edmund continued to speak to the royal couple. Leo smiled good-naturedly, while Penelope kept her eyes downcast and bowed her head again.

"Oh, it's okay, I promise I'm not too ugly." He reassured the girl, to which she only coughed to cover a laugh, and Leo snickered as she did.

"Oh it's not you, it's her father." He said, as if that were explanation enough, and to be fair, it was. Patting his pockets frantically, Caspian found a stray piece of parchment. Without thinking, he leaned over, dipping a finger in Leo's drink that he held to the side, and traced some patterns, before holding the parchment under Penelope's gaze.

Leo blinked owlishly at the bizarre behaviour, and Penelope stared down at the parchment. Traced in punch was a pair of eyes, and Caspian puffed his chest proudly.

"Now we can make eye-contact!" He clarified.

#oc tag #braithen kids #this one i wont put under a read more since its fairly short ish #caspian gets his titles mixed up! u do not call a king by your grace!#Penelope's father is the head of the church btw! very important guy!!!

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trolls-poppy-specialist · 2 months

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X Marks The Spot (Those Holes In Our Hearts)

Summary: What happened after Viva didn’t come with the group to Mount Rageous. Mostly Poppy’s, because of the detail of her trudging back to Rhonda. An extension of the line ‘Poppy and I had a long talk after Viva refused to come with us to Mount Rageous. She’d had a meltdown when Clay brought her up, and I gave her a hug.’

Poppy knew Branch was always there for her.

Poppy knew.

But when it came to the aftermath of her newly found sister choosing to keep the gates between them shut, she didn’t know anymore. “…family’s always worth it,” lingered in her head. It was like the world that the discovery of Viva had given a new filter to had fallen apart in those five seconds. She’d seen the fear and guilt written on Viva’s face. And Branch had seen all of it, coming to her with a hand on her shoulder.

She’d smiled back.

But in her honest opinion, it wasn’t the comforted smile it appeared to be. Neither was it the optimistic, radiant smile she always emitted like light out of the sun.

It was a fake one.

She just smiled to make sure Branch didn’t worry too much. Anyway, it was probably trivial to the eye of any troll.

Just leave her be; she needs to be left alone, Poppy’s mind screamed.

And then she’d trudged back to John Dory’s vehicle Rhonda (technically, it’s a critter), her feet feeling heavier than ever as Branch following behind.

She assumed this was what grief feels like. The unspoken word spoke volumes in the silence.

Opening the door, she threw herself onto the couch, smoothing the crinkles in her hand-knitted ombré dress, and releasing a nearly inaudible sigh.

She looked up at Branch as took a seat next to her, “You don’t look too good, Poppifer,”

Poppy knew he’s not being insensitive, but she couldn’t help but ignore him. For once, she wanted some space to think.

“So,” Clay walked over with a bright grin on his face, “How did things with Viva go? Is she waiting for us outside or—“

“Clay, don’t,” Branch raised a hand to try to stop him, but the thought of Viva just made Poppy’s veins pop, and getting up, she tried to keep herself together but her attempts were fruitless as she screamed, with a hint of sarcasm, “SHE IS NOT WAITING FOR US OUTSIDE. SHE’S BEHIND THAT GATE THAT YOU RAISED. AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN WATCH HER REACTION. SHE LOOKED SO SCARED. OH, AND TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTION, SHE REFUSED TO COME WITH US! GET IT INTO YOUR BRAIN, OKAY? DO. YOU. GET. IT?”

Poppy could barely register the change in her breathing pattern or acknowledge the tears rolling down her face as the walls crumbled, and when she looked up, she only saw the stunned faces of Bruce, John Dory, Clay, Tiny Diamond and Branch (his seemed to reflect something else, though).

She’d really messed up. Big time.

She could see Branch reaching towards her from the corner of her eye, uttering her name, but she walked towards the door of Rhonda, opening it not before a, “I’m sorry,” choked by another sob, “I can’t do this anymore,” left her lips, and she ran away into the darkness of the abandoned woods, not caring if anyone were to follow.

—

She wasn’t lying when she said she couldn’t do it anymore.

She actually didn’t want to think anymore. For once she wished her mind was empty.

At least she had the space now.

To be fair, she didn’t know where she went running into the dark, scary woods near (near, she thought it was) the area where Viva was, stopping under a tree and letting out the most ear-piercing scream before falling back into sobs, curling in on herself under the shadow of the looming tree. She was mad at herself for losing her temper so easily, but at the same time she’s mad at Clay.

Everything was too much.

Why even bother with someone who doesn’t bother with you? A thought intruded her mind. But at the same time, another thought poked its head out to intrude the mess of her mind, don’t say that, Viva’s just traumatized; give her some space.

She didn’t know what to feel anymore. She didn’t know if anyone was trying to look for her. She didn’t know if anyone would bother.

Not after your eruption they wouldn’t.

You shouldn’t have burst like that. The queen of pop should never explode like that in front of her own people, and now they’re disappointed. Shocked. Scared.

Of you.

No one cares about you.

Noonecaresaboutyou.

No one gives a shit.

No one–

“Poppy?”

She looked up. She knew that voice. As it consistently called her name, she knew that troll is getting closer.

She might as well die alone at this rate, actually.

“--Poppy? POPPY! Oh, there you are! I was worried sick!”

It was Branch.

She felt his arms wrapping around her, and typically she would return the hug, but at this point she was too sick, too mentally exhausted to care anymore. She didn’t care that she was still crying salty tears into his green leaf vest.

She looked up at him, his sky blue eyes sparking with worry, and she could imagine her pink eyes clouded with whatever she couldn’t process.

She inhaled, “I’m sorry,”, vividly imagining his raised left (or her right) eyebrow as he asked, “What for?”

“For snapping. Viva didn’t come, and for once in my life I actually feel disappointed, but the answer to this will always be to give the person some space, so I guess I should. Clay must be shocked, John Dory disappointed, Bruce disapproving, and Tiny–uh, horrified. Anyway, I shouldn’t be mad over someone not coming with us even though we’re related by blood and just met like ten minutes ago, and I’m going to start speaking really fast because I really don’t want to be hyperactive anymore, and I just want to be alone, but at the same time I want you to be with me, and I’m just so tired of having to deal with this kind of crap, and if they tell any of this to troll village my dad is so going to disapprove of me and he might dethrone me and I can’t afford to be dethroned because you might break up with me and—”

She rambled everything that’s on her mind. Everything she’s kept so closely to her heart came spilling out in one chunk of fast-running words. She didn’t bother to breathe. She didn’t bother to look up at anyone, still crying, still a sobbing mess.

That wasn’t very queenly of you.

“Poppy,” Branch cupped her face with his hands, pulling her in for a quick kiss on the lips before giving her the best smile he can give at the moment, “I’m not asking you to go in-depth on this, but… Viva didn’t come, right?”

She knew Branch was asking what Clay asked, but she just couldn’t bring herself to snap at him like she did to Clay. So she tearfully nodded. She imagined his eyes reflecting some form of judgment-free understanding and empathy.

That’s what she liked about him.

Branch tightened the hug, using one hand running through her pink ponytail as Poppy rested her head on his shoulder.

“Clay must be done with me. I’ve barely met him for 24 hours and I just exploded in his face. And so is Bruce. If your brothers think I’m bad just tell them that I—” she couldn’t help but cry again. It’s in times like these that all your insecurities came to light, and people who might judge you for being you decided to point your insignificant idiosyncrasies to the masses.

“Do you think I will break up with you, ever?”

Poppy couldn’t bring herself to respond. She knew that Branch would never ever leave her, but at the same time, another part of her questioned that. Would he really not leave her? Would he eventually decide that she was too hyperactive and emotional and ditch her for some other troll out there? There were so many trolls—a large pool, a fine selection, a wide range— why did he pick her?

She started to question herself again. Someone as caring, kind and protective as him didn’t deserve someone like her— really.

It took her a while to realise she’d started to hyperventilate. Poppy couldn’t tell if she was just getting really anxious from her brain spiraling and the fear in everyone’s eyes, or if it was just a sign of something more.

She missed Viva. Deeply. Though she’d only got to know her for what seemed to be a few hours, the feeling of family had really shone, and she really wanted it to come back.

“Poppy. Look at me,”

Amongst choked breaths and clenched fists came his voice, the puff of a fire extinguisher on an ever-raging fire swallowing you whole. She felt herself being pulled out from the monstrous fire, crying ceased, but at the same time she couldn’t bear to look at him.

She’d blown up. At him.

She’d left. When he was trying to comfort her.

All the times he’s done what was right for her, and this was how she repaid him?

“…I’m sorry,”

“What?” Poppy didn’t realise she’d uttered it until Branch questioned her, helping her to stand up. Putt Putt Village was nearby, just a little short walk away. She could just retreat and never see Pop Village again. But she couldn’t, not when all her people were waiting for her after she’d left Bridget’s wedding for the one who she cared about most.

She still didn’t understand why he cared about her so much.

“I said, I’m sorry. I have no idea why I’m even dating you in the first place. You deserve someone better. I mean, you’d confessed to me, and I’d said I loved you too. But I was actually questioning myself about whether I really should love you. N-no offence to you, you’re great, but I wonder if I can say the same for myself. There’s a wide range of better trolls out there, so why did you pick me?”

All her insecurities came gushing out like water out of a running tap. She couldn’t control them. The tap was just way too tightly screwed in that position to be turned off. She could even feel her colours fading.

“Poppy, no,” Branch hugged her again, “you’re great. Sure, you can be hyperactive and emotional at times, but I know that deep down you’re just standing up for what you believe in or trying to express yourself. I truly love you, and I always will. I picked you because of your kindness and selflessness. When I was grey you made my day, so I guess this is my turn to make your day too. Now, deep down inside you, I know you miss Viva. Truth is, when Floyd left me back when I was known as Bitty B, I’d missed him. He’d told me to take care of grandma, and that was one of the reasons I turned grey when she got captured by that Bergen. But the point is, when you miss someone, the best thing you can do is keep them in your heart. And I don’t think my brothers are mad at you. Not one bit. They clearly miss her too, especially Clay— I know he is. Just— maybe don’t go too far next time, okay? But no matter what, I’ll always be by your side. Okay?”

Branch’s reassurances were all Poppy needed for her colours to return in one surge. The tap finally broke out of its lock, and it was screwed back to its normal position. The water stopped flowing.

“Thank you,”

—

“You know, I heard that a nap can help you relax a little,”

Branch clutched onto Poppy as she stumbled upon taking the first step. The woods seemed brighter than it once had been, and Rhonda seemed to be so far away. She remembered the days back when she was so, so little, that her father would tuck her into her bed at exactly one in the afternoon for that one hour long nap. “To recharge your little body, '' he always said, giving her a kiss on her forehead. But when she became queen she no longer had time for naps, always prioritising her duties ahead of everything.

Maybe she did deserve a nap.

She allowed herself to rest on Branch’s shoulde, wrapping one arm around his neck, listening to the fluctuations in his voice as he chuckled, “Tired, Poppifer?”

Poppy wearily hummed, letting Branch scoop her up, cradling her in his arms.

Just one.

She closed her eyes, feeling his heartbeat grounding her slowly but steadily.

—

“Guys? Should we go look for them?”

The Brozone brothers minus Branch and Floyd sat in Rhonda at different areas, arms crossed and one leg over another.

John Dory, ever the oldest, sighed, “Girl seemed mad then. I’m not sure if we want to trigger her again. I mean, just remember the way she exploded. No one’s going to want to touch her at this—”

Bruce stood up abruptly, hands on his hips, “Are you suggesting that we just leave her in who-knows-where-we-are? If she dies it’s our fault, and we’ll soon be found out! Besides, Branch is with her. We simply cannot leave our baby brother behind!”

“Kinda agreeing with John here,” Clay chipped in.

“Seriously?” Bruce shrieked.

“What? It’s not like we want to see her blow up again. I swear, she was on the verge of all of us in the face,”

“It’s all because you asked whether Viva was coming! YOU WERE CLEARLY LOOKING OUT OF THE WINDOW AND YOU SAW THE GATE CLOSE! Are you stupid or something? Did you lose your mind?”

“I just wanted to confirm it…”

“Well, you shouldn’t have, and now your blunder could potentially cost us two lives!”

“It’s just two lives; what’s the big—”

All of a sudden the door of Rhonda was pulled open, and Branch came in with Poppy nestled in his arms like a package, eyes shut and body still with her arms wrapped around his neck. Their eyes widened, both in shock and curiosity.

Bruce raised one eyebrow, “What did you…”

“Do? Absolutely nothing. Poppy just needed a short nap,” Branch gave him a small smile as he cradled Poppy, watching as she didn’t stir. Deep inside he wanted to tell them what went down, but he knew that that would be just a secret between him and Poppy. So he just told the last part.

Just the two of them.

He wasn’t sure if they heard her scream. He didn’t know if they’d felt any regret. But what he did know was that they knew she was sad.

Would they understand? He wasn’t sure.

Branch had always pictured his brothers to be his guardian angels back when he was younger– three, to be exact, when he first called John Dory ‘John Dory’. Before that he’d just called him ‘fish’– after all, it’s a decent alias for a troll with the last name of a sea creature. They’d cried. But when they left, he was the one crying. He’d simply clutched tightly onto Floyd’s leaf vest– the one he now wore every single day without fail– as he broke down into Grandma Rosiepuff’s arms. They’d all broken down into rusty parts that barely (or would never be) pieced together into a singular item anymore.

Nothing felt the same ever since.

During the loneliest nights, he’d ask himself what would have happened if they didn’t leave. Would Brozone still exist? Would they still be together producing songs that would captivate their fans? Would they still have concerts that stunned trolls?

It was always a yes, but at the same time, when he’d came back to reality from his mind, it would always be a no.

It was just him and his grandma now.

Since that day he’d thrown himself into the last promise he made to Floyd– take care of Grandma.

Then when Grandma Rosiepuff got taken, he cried even more.

So much till he lost his colour.

He’d let Floyd down.

But then he’d tried to make up for it by building the bunker, never knowing if grandma or his brothers would ever come back.

“Goodbye forever!” John had said, but internally Branch never let go. Every day he’d sat in his room and stared at the last picture of them together, and cried about it, still wondering when they’d come back.

Or if they’d come back.

He never knew if they would really leave ‘forever’.

He’d hoped John was lying about ‘forever’. Forever really seemed to be a long time after they’d left.

He’d wants forever to end quickly after that. Everyday he breathed, everyday he scooped soil for the bunker he’d wanted them all to live in like a hideout, everyday he stared up at the ceiling—he missed them. Deeply.

Moving forward, Branch sat down on a small bed at the back of the vehicle-slash-critter, carefully tucking Poppy into the crisp white sheets. He sat beside her, shifting her head such that it was resting against his chest. For her to hear his thumping heartbeat when she needed it most.

To him, he’s known her since the mission to rescue the trolls from the bergens.

And then during the World Tour, he’d parted ways with her temporarily after they’d had a falling-out. Sometimes he wished he’d turned back to see her face of pure heartbreak. And when he saw that, he wished he’d hugged her. Really. He didn’t know why he’d just cancelled out her sobs as he walked in the opposite direction.

Then came now, where John Dory interrupted Bridget and Gristle’s wedding, announcing that Floyd had been captured by Velvet and Veneer. Then they met Bruce at Vacay Island, and he’d done a wet Willy in his ear. He called it disgusting. Afterwards they went to find Clay, and this happened. And then Poppy snapped and he’d found her after he heard her scream in the forest.

He was so worried.

He didn’t know what would come next.

But he would always be here to ground her when she realised she was floating too far to be comfortable.

All his brothers seemed to really want to reconnect with him. Would they want to restart their family? Would they forgive each other after the years– decades, even– of being apart? Would Brozone be the rekindled trend among the trolls he now knew?

Branch hoped the answer to this was ‘yes’. He didn’t want another ‘no’ to grace his mind.

Sighing, he looked up at his brothers who were chatting as if their previous argument didn’t exist, and what he’d heard Poppy say to Viva hopped across his mind.

“…family’s always worth it,”

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waitingforwinterwinds · 1 year

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Game of Thrones - 67 SANSA VI (pages 716-725)

Sansa struggles emotionally and mentally in the aftermath of her father's death. Joffrey stops pretending he's any kind of decent human being.

Perhaps I will die too, she told herself, and the thought did not seem so terrible to her. If she flung herself from the window, she could put an end to her suffering, and in the years to come the singers would write songs of her grief. Her body would lie on the stones below, broken and innocent, shaming all those who had betrayed her. Sansa went so far as to cross the bedchamber and throw open the shutters... but then courage left her, and she ran back to her bed, sobbing.

Ummm, holy fuck?

Well there's something the show cut out, but I suppose D&D aren't the kind to let us sit with the grief of a young girl unless it's immediately turning her into some kind of badass.

Poor Sansa. I remember having those kinds of thoughts 'dying would be easy' and 'this will punish them' and 'they'll feel bad about it when I'm gone' but it's bullshit. The kind of people, who hurt others to that point, do not give a fuck what they do to others, don't give a fuck what their actions make others do to themselves. The only people who get hurt or punished by those choices, are the ones who love you. Joffrey and Cersei? Definitely won't feel shamed, just aggravated they've lost a valuable playing piece.

The best revenge, is living (well). It's the living who can make people pay for their crimes.

Once Grand Maester Pycelle came with a box of flasks and bottles, to ask if she was ill. He felt her brow, made her undress, and touched her all over while her bedmaid held her down.

Fuck off and die, both of you. Bad Touch!

Sansa stared at him, seeing him for the first time. He was wearing a padded crimson doublet patterned with lions and a cloth-of-gold cape with a high collar that framed his face. She wondered how she could have ever thought he was handsome. His lips were as soft and red as the worms you found after rain, and his eyes were vain and cruel. "I hate you," she whispered.

Yeah, it's a little hard to see the world through rose tinted glasses when someone splattered them with blood. I'm so sorry you had to have your world view shattered like this. In a fair world, people would have been kind and just and righteous like you always believed. But this isn't a fair world, because GRRM is a sick and twisted man. (joking)

When the time came to dress, she chose the green silk gown that she had worn to the tourney. She recalled how gallant Joff had been to her that night at the feast. Perhaps it would make him remember as well, and treat her more gently.

Yes, good, use what you know, use what you've got. Ihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethis Association, good, now if only he had ever actually been what you thought he was, this would have a good chance of success. Though, the success would still be mild.

This is a good use of defensive manipulation, subtle, using something associated with a better mood, to subconsciously promote a better mood. ... but iirc, that feast ended with Cersei in a row with Bobby B, so... *sigh*

Kinda odd that she refers to him as Joff here though, it may just be a way to separate the idea of him from the reality of him. Like the inverse of what we saw Dany do a few chapters ago, when she tried to psych herself up for cruelty and her narrative voice referred to her as Daenerys, instead of Dany.

"Did he instruct you to hit me if I refuse to come?" "Are you refusing to come, my lady?" The look he gave her was without expression. He did not so much as glance at the bruise her had left her. He did not hate her, Sansa realized; neither did he love her. He felt nothing for her at all. She was only a... a thing to him. "No," she said, rising. She wanted to rage, to hurt him as he'd hurt her, to warn him that when she was queen she would have him exiled if he ever dared strike her again... but she remembered what the Hound had told her, so all she said was, "I shall do whatever His Grace commands."

That has to be so terrifying, to be faced with someone who has such apathy, to know you aren't even seen as human. Her threats wouldn't have held water even if she'd said them, she'd be queen (if the dissolving of the engagement hadn't happened in the future) but queen by marriage, all her power would come from her husband, she'd have no say in anything if he disagreed. Maybe if she had a loyal following within the court, had her own power, but right now her only power comes from the fact Cersei can still use her for political plays, from being a hostage.

But a voice inside her whispered, There are no heroes, and she remembered what Lord Petyr had said to her, here in this very hall. "Life is not a song, sweeting," he'd told her. "You may learn that one day to your sorrow." In life, the monsters win, she told herself, and now it was the Hound's voice she heard, a cold rasp, metal on stone. "Save yourself some pain, girl, and give him what he wants."

Oh, sweetheart.

I hate that she has to experience such an enormous mental reset, but if she doesn't get this sorted away, she's not going to have the wherewithal to get through this.

"You truly are a stupid girl, aren't you? My mother says so." ... "I'll get you with child as soon as you're able," Joffrey said as he escorted her across the practice yard. "If the first one is stupid, I'll chop off your head and marry a smarter wife. -"

Says the boy-king who can't even form his own opinions without his mother spoon feeding them to him, unless it's in the name of unnecessary levels of violence on his behalf.

"Do it, girl," Sandor Clegane told her, pushing her back toward the king. His mouth twitched on the burned side of his face and Sansa could almost hear the rest of it. He'll have you up there no matter what, so give him what he wants.

mmm, and there's the rub. There's where people look and say 'Sansa's a completely passive hostage, she never fought back' like they were paying zero attention.

She's facing an opponent with such a different level of power to her own, she has no way out, no resources, effectively no allies, she has to pick her battles knowing she is always going to lose. Any strike she makes has to be done with delicate precision and any defiance done knowing she will get away with it, because she isn't going to get away with anything. She knows what Joffrey is now, she's beginning to truly understand the kind of situation she's in.

The bamboo bends, so it does not break. (but even bamboo has a breaking point.)

The heads were mounted between the crenels, along the top of the wall, impaled on iron spikes so they faced out over the city. Sansa had noted them the moment she'd stepped out onto the wallwalk, but the river and the bustling streets and the setting sun were ever so much prettier. He can make me look at the heads, she told herself, but he can't make me see them.

This whole section you can sort of feel the vibe of her starting to almost intentionally disassociate. ihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethis

A kind of madness took over her then, and she heard herself say, "Maybe my brother will give me your head." ... The outer parapet came up to her chin, but along the inner edge of the walk was nothing, nothing but a long plunge to the bailey seventy or eighty feet below. All it would take was a shove, she told herself. He was standing right there, right there, smirking at her with those fat wormlips. You could do it, she told herself. You could. Do it right now. It wouldn't even matter if she went over with him. It wouldn't matter at all. ... The moment was gone. Sansa lowered her eyes. "Thank you," she said when he was done. She was a good girl, and always remembered her courtesies.

Ooph, she snapped a bit. I hate that she was struck bloody and it's a situation where "thank goodness that didn't end worse" is an applicable statement. I know "maybe he'll give me yours" is treated like her big bad girlboss moment, but looking at this as 'a victim and her abuser,' fuck that was dangerous, especially with someone whose ego is that inflated, and their power that unquestioned. That wasn't even something she meant to say. Think it, sure, but out loud?

Kinda icky circle with this chapter, ends where it began, with Sansa being suicidal, and shrugging on her courtesies to protect herself even though she really doesn't want to.

(I have mentioned in a previous chapter review, the 5 F's, those are Fight, Flight, Freeze, Flop and Fawn, they're the inherent trauma and fear responses of humans, Fawn is also called Friend, and it's the trauma response Sansa is exhibiting, also being forced to exhibit. This trauma response is less physical in its characteristics, and plays to the emotional side of the threat. (Think of scared side kicks of villains like LeFou to Gaston in Beauty and the Beast, or Shang Qinghua to Mobei Jun if you're into SVSSS) the idea of Fawn is "I'm not a threat, I'm your friend, I'm not prey, I'm helpful.")

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #game of thrones #sansa stark #suicide #suicide mentions #thoughts of suicide #a chapter a day reading #got #long post

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ejzah · 1 year

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Can you write a story where kensi and deeks go to Tokyo to visit nell and Eric and stay at their place

The Most Amazing Place in the World

“Oh my god, I could stay here forever,” Kensi sighed, looking at a piece of maki roll sandwiched between her chopsticks. Deeks grinned, amused by her enthusiasm, and complete sincerity.

“In Tokyo? Well, I suppose we could check realty prices,” Deeks responded.

“No, I mean here. At this restaurant.”

“This is the first sushi restaurant we’ve been to, don’t you think you want to explore a few more options before you make such a drastic decision?” Nell asked. She and Eric sat on the other side of the table, little plates with various appetizers, rolls, and other delicacies spread around them. There were also a healthy collection of empty sake and cocktail glasses.

“Nope, I’ve found true happiness here,” Kensi decided.

“So my amazingly good looks, wit, and ability to lift moderately heavy objects weren’t enough to keep you satisfied?” Deeks teased, nudging her shoulder. She’d had a fair amount of alcohol too, which resulted in a. very happy and chatty Kensi.

“You’ll be too here, of course. Everything I love in one place.”

“I’m glad you guys are having a good time,” Eric said. He’d gone all out for the occasion, dressed in a mauve colored suit with a paisley patterned dress shirt. Naturally, Nell wore a purple dress with poofy sleeves and green accessories.

“Yeah, it’s been amazing. I don’t think “thanks” is enough to show our appreciation.”

“Well, it’s not completely altruistic,” Nell pointed out. She waved a piece of pickled ginger in their direction. “How else am I suppose to get my Shaggy and Wonder Woman fix? Seriously, I am so deprived of a good Deeks hug, and Kensi, zoom is nowhere near talking to you face to face.

“Aw, we missed you too,” Kensi said.

“Like cry ourselves to sleep when we realize you’re happily living in paradise without us miss you,” Deeks added. Nell rolled her eyes affectionately, listing to the side.

“Um, LA is pretty good too.”

“Then why did you leave us?”

“Because it doesn’t have, per Kensi, the most amazing restaurant in the world?” Eric suggested. “Plus, there’s the whole multimillion dollar corporation and all that.”

Deeks laughed, nodding in capitulation. “Ok, touché. I guess I can see why that my seem glamorous.” He held up a finger like he was about to make a significant point. “But you’re forgetting that you could be working long hours and have frequent near-death experiences all while under the watchful eye of a cranky boss with a gluten sensitivity.”

“Mmm, so hard to choose.” Nell made a thinking face. “But, I’m going to go with co-owner of said corporation.”

“Sellout,” Deeks teased. “Seriously though, we’re so happy for both of you.”

“We are.” Kensi lifted her drink, using Deeks as a support so she didn’t fall over. “To the Wonder Twins, spreading their amazingness far and wide.”

They all drank, not needing much nudging to continue the celebration.

“Ooh, guys, you might want to take it easy because there’s this super cool bar we wanted to show you when we’re done eating,” Eric said.

“But it’s like 9:30,” Kensi said with some alarm.

“Yeah, so we’ve got hours to party,” Eric agreed happily.

“Oh my god, I’m not going to make it,” Kensi groaned into Deeks’ ear.

“Welcome to Tokyo!” Nell shouted, tossing back a glass of sake.

***

A/N: I hope this was enjoyable. I’ve written several stories with Kensi and Deeks visiting the Meerkats, and always think that they’d get up to lots of odd shenanigans.

For the purposes of this story, Rosa decided to stay behind in LA with Roberta.

Thanks for the prompt!

#ncis la fanfiction #densi #marty deeks #kensi blye #neric #Eric and Nell #fluff #Densi and the Meerkats #anonymous prompt #ejzah fanfiction

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tricksterfiction · 8 months

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Prompt #12 Dowdy

Akane Urabe rarely got credit where it was due for her sheer, momentous amount of patience she had where raising her children were concerned. Dressed in a light soft brown komon with white pattern diamonds, toes tucked into a pair of old geta, her strawberry ginger hair tucked into a low bun. Deep brown eyes searching.

She had been busy filling her days with helping watch her grandchildren since her husband's passing and they were enough to run her off her feet. The children in varying degrees inherited a strong affinity for feral behaviour, running like the kami possessed their feet. Not unlike that of one of their Aunt's.

Today she had invited everyone over for a lovely birthday brunch for her eldest daughter, Iso accompanied by her husband. The youngest, Cho and her husband had charitably arrived early to help prepare food and decorations. The only one missing was her middle child, Sen.

The grandchildren were happily occupied with each other, their laughter spilling out from the garden.

The eleventh bell was nearing, Akane stood by the front porch watching the road expectantly. A moment passed eleven and she sighed.

"I'm heeeeeeeeeeeeeeere!"

Akane looked down the road again mistakenly for the late arrival of Sen came from above. Akane gasped, shielding her face with her sleeve as the heavy thump of Moonshine's landing greeted her.

"Kweh!" Moonshine was in her adorable yellow raincoat, her flying goggles down, a pack filled to the brim with various herbs, flowers, and other greenery sticking out. A fox head popped out of a sidesaddle bag.

Sen swung a leg over the saddle, dismounting easily. Akane ran a scrutinizing eye over Sen. She was dressed in overalls, sweaty, covered in a fine layer of dust, and a straw hat.

"Mama!" Sen greeted brightly, carrying on in Doman, "Apologies for being tardy, I lost track of time. I went out to get Iso some fresh lavender as a gift and got carried away collecting something for everybody. The kids would feel left out. I found some great intact bird bones that I know that little Sakura will love-"

Moonshine bowed her head for Sen to adjust the goggles off her eyes, getting a few grysahl green leaves as a snack.

Akane waited to get a word in, "You are here and that is all that matters..." She waited a beat for Sen's full attention, "But dressed as you are will not do."

Sen sheepishly laughed, "Didn't want to be late taking the time to clean myself up. Is there... anything clean I can borrow?"

"Clean, yes. I sorted through your old closet and donated all your dowdy westerner clothing."

Sen's expression fell, "Mama-"

Pinching Sen's sleeve to tug her inside, "There is a wash basin ready as well, and stand up straight and don't pout."

Once Sen was inside, Akane shooed Moonshine around the house to the back gardens where the children were playing. There was a resounding cheer of the chocobo's arrival.

Sen stepped out of her boots, padding barefoot across her family home. Akane was right behind her, trying to herd her to her room as quickly as possible but stopped short by popping her head in to say hello to her sisters and squinting at the sight of their husbands as well, relaxing outdoors.

"I thought it was going to be us and the kids - family only."

"It is, what are you talking about?" Akane poked once, poked twice Sen's back to keep walking, but was served a disappointed look from her second eldest.

"What's the matter? Go on, get to it."

"Mama, had I known partners were allowed I'd have brought Jesser."

Akane brushed her off, "He does not count, you're not even married. Come now."

Iso popped her deep auburn head out from the sidedoor leading into the living room, "Did I hear Jesser'to would be joining us? The Dahkra's are such a good family-"

Akane answered in a sharp bite, "No he will not be."

Iso shrank a little, but spoke up, "Mama, that is not fair." The sisters shared a look, Akane saw the apparent gratitude in Sen's face.

Silence stretched between the three of them. Cho calling from the kitchen for some help. Akane looked back to Sen, her daughter no longer faced her mother.

"Enough." Akane decided, a harder push at Sen's back to get her on the move again but it was like trying to shove a stonewall. She held her breath.

Sen was still, breathing evenly after a beat she moved Akane tried to follow behind her to show her the yakuta she picked out for her but the door was slammed in her face. About to rapt on the door, Iso was at Akane's side holding her mother's wrist.

Iso whispered, pleadingly, "Mama, don't."

Showing a similar form of restraint Akane backed away from the door. Calling back to Cho that she was coming to help.

#ffxivwrite2023 #ffxivwrite #writing prompt #ffxiv #prompt 12 #Dowdy

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toothlessturtle21 · 9 months

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My Fair Lady (Pt. 3)

Pt. 2 available here

Full story on AO3 available here

Kai raised an eyebrow at the statement, but knew better than to cast any of Zane’s judgments aside without probing.

“Was that a memory, or…?”

“Vision,” Zane mumbled, turning the doorknob. Kai braced himself, and inside there lay one simple vase on top of a pedestal. It was dark brown in color, made of some sort of terracotta. Zane walked over and picked it up, turning it over in his hands. “Take off your ring for a moment, Kai. Tell me what this looks like. I fear for what would happen if I were to remove mine instead.”

Kai did as he was asked, and the vase suddenly exploded to life with beautiful patterns of all types, etchings and carvings swirling around the now marble-glazed pot.

“Yeah,” He exhaled, staring at the pottery. “That’s definitely something important. Real fancy and shit.”

Zane hummed to himself, tucking the vase under his arm.

“Alright then, I will bring this with us. Go and fetch yours and Jay’s belongings from your room, I fear that you will not be able to return there afterwards.”

Once Kai had gone and dragged both of their heavy bags down the hallway and met Zane, they tucked the pot into Kai’s bag before making their way towards where the Lady and Jay were most likely to be.

They reached the courtyard quickly, the pair sitting on a bench towards the center. The Lady beamed at the sight of Zane, turning to face him. While she did so, Kai subtly gestured for Jay to get off the bench, which Jay did very quickly after seeing that his boyfriend was no longer completely enamored by this woman. For all of Zane’s virtues, the ability to hide his emotions from his expressions was not one of them.

“My Lady,” Zane said curtly, tilting his head back. “I am giving you this chance to let your servants go of your own free will before we take matters down a more forceful route.”

Her face fell, the smile perpetually plastered on her face fading away to a scowl.

“So you have broken free?” She said quietly, not at all a question despite the phrasing. Zane didn’t answer, still staring her down. “Fine then. You three shall join my staff if you cannot be the subjects of my love.”

With a loud crack, some sort of purple magic erupted from her fingertips, but Zane merely blocked it with the fist that had the ring, the light flowing harmlessly around him. Fumbling, Kai opened his bag to pull out the vase, Jay watching in confusion as he lifted it up to show Zane. The Ice Ninja looked back, nodded, and the Lady shrieked as Kai slammed it to the ground, the terracotta shattering into dozens of pieces. Kai had braced himself for magic to shoot out in all directions, but to his surprise, nothing of that caliber happened. Instead, the castle began to shake, the fancy wallpaper and candles peeling and melting off the walls. The floor sunk into stone, and the ornate doors faded into blank panels of wood.

In the blink of an eye, the once royal palace was reduced to a mass of stone and plain wood, cold and unforgiving in the Northern climate. Even Zane felt a shiver up his spine. The Lady remained, huddled in a modest cotton dress in the middle of the dried up courtyard. Zane paced over to her, and Kai held his breath, preparing to shield his eyes from a gruesome scene.

Instead, he held out his hand.

“My lady,” He said plainly to her. She looked up to him, trembling. “I do not wish you harm. Please.”

“Beloved?” She asked, voice shaking. He shook his head.

“No. Zane.”

Kai looked around, and found that the once-servants were peering through the holes in the walls where ornate stained glass once stood.

“Despite your actions, I believe you can build a true life for yourself here, not one built on deception. Look around you,” He gestured to the onlookers. “Those that have once loved you surround you. Perhaps if you showed the you I spent the last few weeks with, you can be loved without the enchantment.”

She made no comment, merely sniffled from her place crumpled on the floor. He rescinded his hand, and turned back to Kai and Jay with an apathetic shrug.

“Shall we take our leave?”

As soon as they were away from the castle, Jay wrapped his boyfriend in a massive hug.

“Ohmygod I missed you so much,” He whined, his head buried in Zane’s chest. “I was so worried when you didn’t text me back but Kai tried to stop me from going to find you and-”

“I missed you too, Jay,” Zane hugged back, amused by the rambling. “Well, I missed you as long as I was not enchanted, anyway.”

“How long was that?” Kai asked, trying to tug his teammates along. He was cold and tired and hungry and the Bounty with his own bed sounded so good right now.

“About two weeks,” Zane managed to peel Jay off of him, resuming his walking. “I didn’t even manage to find my flowers…”

“Well, Cole’s got another kind of flower for you if you want it,” Kai smirked, earning a conjured snowball thrown right at his head. “Hey, just sayin’!”

“Did you actually mean what you said to her, Zane?” Jay asked, still hanging onto his arm. “I mean, she had just kept you hostage for a while. I was surprised you were so nice.”

“She was a decent conversationalist when it was just the two of us. At least I think she was,” He pondered. “It is admittedly hard to tell what my own judgment is at this point.”

“We can unpack your brainwash trauma when we get home,” Kai grumbled, this time earning a non-conjured snowball thrown at him from Jay.

“Alright, alright,” Zane laughed, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead. “That’s enough. Let us head home, genuinely this time. I presume riding in Jay’s jet will result in a much sooner arrival time than us walking.”

“Got that right,” Jay nodded, taking his nunchucks out from his bag, the weapon still wrapped in the storage cloth.

“And Zane?” Kai looked over and met the Ice Ninja’s inquisitive gaze. “You owe me big time for this rescue operation.”

Zane sighed silently, but nodded.

“Yes, yes, I will compensate you adequately. If we have the means to do so, I will make you chicken curry for dinner, how is that?”

“Fuck yeah,” Kai fist pumped.

“Okay, okay, let’s do this,” Jay gripped his nunchucks in both hands, the electricity crackling between them. The other two ceased the bickering, and climbed in the jet once it was summoned, eager to return home and leave the illusionist and her castle far, far behind.

#ninjago #fanfiction #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago zane #ninjago jay #jay x zane #ninjago kai #ninjago pixal #ninjago cryptor #au

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bylerschmyler · 1 year

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fourgate - The foreshadowing of the number 4 in stranger things

moots who are following me for little while longer will know that I am obsessed with the number 4 in Stranger Things.

And while during all my findings I was struggling to see a pattern I think I finally cracked the code... Well mostly at least.

I will split this in parts. Because it's way easier for me to do it season for season.

Fair warning: I am just a human and as of now I didn't made a full rewatch so there is a big chance that this analysis will miss some mentions of the number 4. I tried to include as much as I remembered so just lean back and enjoy!

General

The number 4 is generally a bad sign in the show. Obviously since S4 we can connect the number 4 with Vecna/One/Henry because 4 chimes, 4 kills, 4 gates. But the number was a bad thing way before we learned about him and his plan.

This analysis will cover mostly obvious mentions of the number. Mentions meaning showing the number in for- or background or a character talking about this number. I will only concentrate on those (mostly). There are a lot of subtile mentions in the blurry background, digit-sums or as part of a number. I won't cover those (for now) because for that I would have to rewatch ST completly at half speed. And as of right now I don't have the time to do it so I will concentrate on this for now.

The number generally foreshadows something bad happening in some more or less immediate response after the mention. More or less immediate means that it can be directly afterwards but also take a while. The scenes will always be in direct connection between showing/telling of the number and the bad thing happening but it's possible that longer scenes and cuts are between the mention and the bad thing happening. (You will know what I mean)

Season 1

So let's get started with season 1. You may wonder, if the number 4 plays a huge role in Season 1. And yeah it definitely does.

The very first time the number is directly mentioned is in this scene

The party had to end their campaign and Will, Dustin and Lucas are leaving. Dustin talks about how Nancy has a stick up her butt and that she used to be cool because she did dress up for campaign. And Mike responded with Four years ago.

And hopefully you remember in what bad thing this mentioned resulted.

Do I need to say more?

This is what I mean when I say less immediate. The scene with the mention is directly connected to the bad thing.

Just wanna add that there are two honorable mentions of the number 4 in this scene.

First when we get told that Will needs to roll a 13 (digit sum 4) to defeat the demogorgon and later when Will wants X-men issue 134 as reward for winning the race against Dustin.

The second Time the number 4 is very obviously shown is in E3. When "Will's" Body is found in the quarry. THIS is the reason I started to dig into this number!

Again. Every fan on here knows what comes next, don't you?

So let's get ready for the third.

Looking at this scene you may ask what bad is coming in more or less immediate context. And I get what you mean but let me explain okay.

Yes, yes I know there are a lot of things happening between Dustin saying he joined the party in 4th grade and Mike jumping from the cliff. BUT it's still in direct connection. Mike and Dustin are on their way to find El in the scene where Dustin mentions the number 4. El destroys the door in the grocery store. Mike and Dustin search for her in the woods and then they get hunted by Troy and James. It's takes it time but it's still in one context.

The one's shown above were very obvious mentions. The following one's are more subtile but I still count them for this analysis,

Yes it's not directly the number itself but 4 paws are not coincidentally. (Have tigers 4 paws I don't know). This "Mention" is resulting in the Demogorogon coming through this Wall.

Next one supporting my mention:

It's 10:04 and results in this:

Just for confimation about the time:

Additional background mention:

Part 2 will come in the next days. If you find a mention of 4 in any season that might fly under the radar please comment/reblog it on this post.

#fourgate #4gate #fourgate analysis #fourgate analysis part1 #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things

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sporadically-writing · 2 years

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Connie Clarke

Basics

Full Name: Connie Clarke

Nickname(s): Coco, Con

Age: 16 in Season 1 of Stranger Things

Sexual Orientation: Lesbian

Appearance

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Skin Tone: Fair

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Brown

Hairstyle: Ponytail, accessories with different colored/patterned scrunchies

Makeup: Subtle but she does like doing it, it's like painting

Build: Slim, does a lot of dancing

Height: 5' 8" (She is a few millimeters taller than her brother)

Style: Dresses in bold colors and jeans. Every day the club meets though, she will wear her Hellfire shirt

Personality

General Personality Traits: Humorous, Passionate, Happy

Strengths: Creative, Determined, Overloads her schedule

Flaws: Anxious, Overthinking, Overloads her schedule

Habits and Mannerisms: Whenever she isn't busy she is working on either reading or memorizing a script/song/dance; She hums under her breath while she's working; On the rare occasion that she struggles to remember something, she taps her pointer and middle fingers on her forehead until she does

Secrets: She's GAY; Surprising many people (but not her father or brother) she does not hide the fact that she's a member of Hellfire

Regrets: She wishes she could get herself a girlfriend but that is difficult for obvious reasons

Skills/Talents: She's a talented actor, singer and dancer, occasionally using that acting ability during DND and for lying in certain situations; Memorization; Recreational watercolor painting; Organization

Likes: Drama Club, DND, Fiction novels

Dislikes: Snakes, Hazing, Glitter

Sense of Humor: Puns for certain

Guilty Pleasure: Belting songs in the car on the way to school

Defining Moment: TBD

Relationships

Friends: Hellfire Club, The Party and Co.

Family: Scott Clarke (Father), Kenny Clarke (Twin Brother)

Enemies: Creatures from the Upside Down, The Hawkins High Basketball Team

Lovers: Robin Buckley (eventually)

Relationship Status: Single and horribly aware of why

Reputation: A walking inconsistency, she's a nice girl with a lot of talent but she does hang out with those freaks in the Hellfire Club. She's also super cute but every time she's been asked out by a guy, she always says no?

Miscellaneous

Current Residence: Hawkins, Indiana

Collections: Playbills and Posters from Hawkins High performances; Watercolor sketchbooks; Musical albums; Character sheets

Accent: Midwestern

Voice: Sweet and unapologetic

Signature Quote: "Sorry, I can't. I've got rehearsal/Hellfire/homework/to help my dad grade papers/etc."

Song: TBD

Backstory

Connie has always been a bit odd to other people simply because she never really found a group and stuck with it. Connie has always had a lot of different interests and did not compromise her engagement in any of them despite what anyone said. Her enthusiasm for whatever it was she was doing at the time however, was infectious to the others around and, unlike her brother, Connie never really had trouble making friends.

Over time, her interests narrowed to a few select arts and DND. Though interested in science, it never was her most favorite thing. That didn't have a strain on her relationship with her father, he understands that curiosity comes in all forms for all subjects, just because hers is different does not make any difference. His daughter is incredibly smart and creative and he is proud of her every single day.

When the Clarke twins got to high school, Connie always makes sure that she invites her brother to join her in whatever she does but more often than not, he insisted on sticking to the technical side of things.

Connie, despite some of her "quirks", does gain the attention of several boys her age over the course of her high school career but she always says no. Some less than kind peers of hers make several comments about her and the boys of Hellfire but she shuts them down many times. She's witty enough to get bullies off her back.

It took her a long time to figure out why she's never been interested in boys and once she did, she kept it to herself, not even telling her twin or father about it. It's just a difficult situation for her that she's still trying to figure out how to navigate.

#connie clarke #robin buckley x oc #robin buckley x reader #stranger things x oc #stranger things x reader #stranger things oc #stranger things #hawkins indiana oc #st oc #my oc stuff #oc notes #kenny and connie clarke

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murasaki-rose-art · 1 year

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A Sorceress and her Knight

“.... you see, growing up I was never really big on being a princess. I wanted to be a sorceress. ^_^v

The dress was sewn by my mother, with the materials picked out by the two of us, using a fantastic pattern from Burda. (I HAD to have sheer flowing sleeves, just had to. They're so much fun!) My mom also made my 2 sisters' dresses, my niece's dress, and her own. All done in a medieval style. She even designed and assembled our bouquets! (Except for the toss bouquet.)

My husband Andy's outfit, the groomsmen's and the ring bearer's outfits all came from Armstreet.

My girdle belt and my husband's chain were made by my husband. His knight chain wasn't going to arrive in time so, having taken a jewelry making class back in college, decided to make his own and do an amazing job of it too. Then, when I was having a nervous breakdown over my belt (The one person I had finally found that did custom orders wasn't contacting me.) my husband-to-be did the most amazing thing; Using pictures I had drawn and ones of existing belts, he made my girdle belt. All I had to do was find the cabochons. @_@ Thank god for ebay. I found a jewelry seller that was clearing out their stock and bought them out of the purple cabochons we used for my belt. I cannot remember what type of stone they are. ^_^;

He also made his belt, along with the belts of his groomsmen. Genuine leather and sturdy metal, they aren't just beautiful, they're made to last.

My headband and bracelet (which you can't see very well here.) were made by the talented artist behind Thyme2dream.

My staff was made by one of the talented artisans from the KC Renaissance Fair. I can't remember the name of the booth as I bought the staff before Andy and I even started dating!

Andy's sword also came from the KCRenfest. Again, I can't remember the booth it was bought at, as it was bought a couple years before the wedding.”

Photo from our wedding reception: October 2012

Close-ups of the chain, belt, and the custom coat of arms Andy made under the read more.

#medieval #cosplay #medieval costume #jewelry making #wedding

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worldismyne · 2 years

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Wardrobe concepts Pt 1!

I've been watching a bunch of analysis vids on costuming for movies/shows and how to reflect character arcs through clothing, soooo, I wanna try to do that for the comic!

Finn's honestly the easiest for me to design things for, the biggest problem is whittling it down.

I also realized that I could freshen things up by combining medieval silhouettes with palettes/pieces inspired by indie artists.

This white outfit is a colored version of the gender-punk sketches I did initially. I want to avoid asymmetry as much as possible, but I loved this one so much. The others might make an appearance too, but that'll be further down the line.

For year 2 I want to focus on two things. 1) Finn competing with other bards for attention, 2) attempts to dress more 'masculine'. During second year Finn's insecurity is a part of his design change. So I want to lean into that.

For the second outfit I wanted to do something inspired by the Pale Waves. One of the photoshoot had Heather in this velvet blazer with purple accents and I was sold.

So I combined it with this painting I found to inform the layering. Also want to have some kind of pattern on his stockings in gold (like stars or something).

For the third I took a look through Sofi Tukker's album shoots, trying to find one where I could pull influence from both members of the duo and I came across these outfits. I just have a soft-spot for this color profile.

So I sampled some pieces from this collection of outfits that could help replicate the feel the jacket gives off while keeping the scales/segmenting of the key-hole top.

There's other outfits from side from the OG tumblr that we can pull from as well (a lot of them are red and black). Definitely leaning toward any design that will put multiple layers over his scar for year two (corsets, belts, purses, etc) and use more bright/cool colors when in scenes with Shad and Beatus since they have a fair amount of warm colors in their designs.

#warrior u #myne art #character concept

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gsnap125 · 4 months

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Beauty and Vanity

I had a very long and elaborate dream last night. It ended with this conventionally attractive person looking at me and saying, "you and I are focused on being beautiful since we're shallow like that."

Struck as I was with post-dream clarity as I pulled myself into the conscious world, I couldn't help but wonder why I had such a strong connection between putting effort into being beautiful and being shallow that my subconscious presented it to me with such certainty. It's not exactly a new perspective to me. As a teenager and into my early 20s I never put effort into my appearance. The most I did was brush my hair and get it cut once or twice a year. The edgy teenage me naturally thought that it made me somewhat superior. After all, why would someone put any effort into their appearance unless it was to impress someone or from some shallowness in their personality that demanded they always look their best?

Well, as it turned out, most people care about their appearance to at least to some extent. Perhaps not enough they would do a complex skincare routine or daily makeup, but they cared about how they styled their hair, how they dressed, and so on. I eventually learned the reason I was miserable whenever I tried to do the same was because I never let myself dress the way I really wanted. As soon as I started dressing as a girl, I developed a sense of style I never could barely imagine before. Pretty standard trans behavior, with the benefit of hindsight.

At some point before I transitioned, I realized the belief I had about the relationship between beauty and vanity was steeped in internalized misogyny. After all, when I thought of beauty culture, it was overwhelmingly feminine. Even the term beautiful, when applied to people, has gendered connotations. I started to recognize that I was using those beliefs to be more critical of women, while men's aesthetic work easily passes for effortless. This is particularly unfair in a culture where beauty is the cultural expectation for women. If they didn't try they were ugly or lazy, and if they did they were vain or self-absorbed. So I learned to reject the equivalence; I'm not sure I could have expressed it so clearly at the time. But I became uncomfortable painting people with this brush.

So I had recognized that associating beauty and vanity isn't a fair way to judge people, and I had recognized that I actually do care about my appearance when I allow expression of my authentic self. Why then do I think that caring about one's appearance makes one vain and shallow? Isn't beauty part of what makes life worth living? The beauty of people, of art, of the natural world? Physical beauty, the beauty found in poetry and written art, in mathematical patterns, in the way that humans interact and care for each other? I certainly think so. And I certainly don't think a beautiful sunset makes the sky vain.

I suppose the answer is probably the same it has been all along, but which I never properly confronted. The idea that beauty, especially beauty in women, is a character flaw (unless it's effortless) is rooted deeply in misogynistic attitudes. Ironically, the same attitudes demand that women make themselves beautiful then condemn them for doing so. It's not enough for me to recognize that I shouldn't judge people using this absurd metric, I need to recognize and reject the core belief that beauty, especially for women, is somehow indicative of any individual's worth.

Easier said than done, I'm sure. But if there is one thing I've learned over the years, it's that having challenging fundamental beliefs such as this one can be truly transformative.

#beauty #feminism #internalized misogyny

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lesbiany2kvampiregirls · 9 months

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Gestrunkle for Two

Prompt: 7a Dear Mom, Today Nathan introduced me to some of his friends, Herbert and Anna, who in truth is his sister. Nathan says they have been inseparable since they were little. He also said I would like them which is… let’s leave that until the end. We went to an Irisian restaurant as Nathan said I had to try, true Irisian food. In his opinion, it’s the best food in the world. I disagree since he has never left Iris. Besides, it doesn’t matter what he thinks I know Agzaran food is better. A lot better when you cooked it, Mom. When I came to get him in my broom, he was wearing the love child of a T-shirt and a Tuxedo. Or rather a T-shirt with a Tuxedo pattern painted on it. He did have some dress pants on. His appearance made me feel overdressed and underdressed at the same time. I was wearing a Yellow dress that Mrs Strix had bought me as a welcome gift a few days ago. Nathan had a weird smile on his face and he was oddly considerate. I don’t know what has gotten into him. He wasn’t like this the times before. He didn’t even wear his flying goggles. Herbert and Anna waited for us at the restaurant. When we arrived they had already ordered which I found rude. Anna was quick to excuse herself. She said that I didn’t know anything about Irisian food and she already knew her brother’s order. I trusted her, for the moment. I don’t know what it was but I didn’t feel comfortable with her. Maybe it was the way she smiled as if she knew something I didn’t. She did, of course, know something I didn’t. That was that in between the things she had ordered she had chosen Gestrukler for me and Nathan. That was somehow important. When the food arrived, Nathan flushed red to the tip of his ears. I tried to ask for an explanation, but he didn’t answer. We ate the food, and I have to admit that it was delicious. The best thing I’ve ever tried (besides your mulberry pie). It did taste similar to your minced meat but with a sweeter accent. Nathan didn’t look up from his plate and Anna’s smile was unsettling so I mostly talked with Herbert. He is not magical or anything, but he seems very interested in the history of magic. He has told me that there is an exposition about Magic at the Natural History Museum. According to him, it’s the first one ever. He said that we could go together. Nathan and Anna interjected at that, saying that they wanted to come too. To be completely fair, I think it would be fun to go all together. Anna and Herbert returned to their homes together. Meanwhile, me and Nathan went sightseeing. There are a lot of things you can see while on a broom. The sunset is one of them. All in all, I’m having a lot of fun with Nathan, and I hope we can do this again. With Love, Isabella.

#the magical year of a teenage witch #witchoc #witchsona #witchcraft #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #bisexual #city #city girls

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treechangeseachange · 2 years

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Bushfire mosaic

Ceramic items survive fire. However, if the table they sat on or cupboard they were stored in burns, they fall and break. They also break if things fall on top of them. If you sift through the rubble of a burnt house, you can find mugs, plates and bowls some whole, most in pieces. The banal - cheap plates bought at Queanbeyan Target and brought to the shack our first Easter here. The beautiful - a Pacifica patterned bowl I bought at my favourite Mt Eden shop when I lived in New Zealand. The sentimental - my first Mother’s Day mug. The ridiculous - the intertwined people salt and pepper shakers my sister in law gave us. I scavenged our bushfire rubble for these fragments of ceramic memories. Some were discoloured or broken but a few ramekins even survived, and are now in my new kitchen drawers. I kept these pieces of banal, beauty, sentiment, ridiculous and significance, and chucked them in a crate for the rain to wash and for the fire smell to dissipate.

I have previously written of my plan to make a mosaic with these pieces. I’m not the only person to make art from their bushfire ruins. It feels brutal to have lost so much of your past life that you want to hold onto the fragments of porcelain or molten metal and phoenix-like, raise them up again. So I’m not the only person, but I am quite possibly the slowest person to create their bushfire art! To be fair it was an intense and busy time recovering, renovating, moving and building. But there’s been time enough. My initial efforts were frustrating and fruitless. I was inspired by a feature cylindrical mosaic I had seen in a garden setting. Easy I thought, just get some PVC plumbers pipe. I discovered It wasn’t possible to stick predominantly flat ceramic pieces onto curved PVC pipe with craft glue nor with tile glue. The pieces just slid off and in frustration I packed everything up and focussed on things I actually needed to do. After those many many things were done, I developed a new and delightful skill of sitting on our new verandah and doing not much. The mosaic nagged however, and inevitably it was time to unpack the pieces and recommence, this time armed with the most serious builders liquid nails extreme instant hold adhesive available. I had to wear gloves because it doesn’t wash off skin, you just have to wait for it to finally peel off.

Re-starting this project felt wonderful. I think that was due to both the recommencement and the therapeutic nature of craft. There are organisations who now teach crafts as therapy. Those nans and great grandmums knew so much. Not only did they clothe and warm their families or decorate their houses, they kept themselves sane through all the chores and sexism they had to endure! My Gran loved to paint she and was also a prodigious knitter. I remember knitted jumpers all colours and sizes, which never quite fitted the intended grandchild but always worn by another. Her crotcheted rugs are legendary in my family. Sadly I lost one of her paintings and one of those rugs to the fire, but local knitted and sewed generosity has created new family treasures. Like most women of her era, my Gran could also sew and made my mother’s ball dresses even her wedding dress. She passed on her skills to my mother who made many necessary and requested outfits in my childhood. Me, not so crafty. Last year when curtains needed hemming I borrowed a sewing machine, threaded it and surprisingly some sewing knowledge came back to me. But that’s about it. Mainly my adulthood has been bereft of craft.

What I found during mosaic making was something different from sewing - there was no need for it to be perfectly straight or the right length. I could put the pieces wherever I wanted and wherever I wanted to put them was exactly the right place. At times there was tension until I accepted that and gave in to the mosaic making process. I felt satisfaction when I found a snug fit for pieces. I started to confidently choose pieces for contrasting or complementary colour. I considered texture and unique features - a Japanese cup’s authenticity stamp, the signature of the potter, the handle of a cup, the words on a joke mug. I felt gentle happiness as I recalled the origin of each piece - when it was purchased or who had gifted it. Maybe the passage of time was necessary for me to find joy in the mosaic making process. Slowly, slowly the pieces crept up the cylinder and finally I reached the top! To bring it all together I wanted a dark grout and found the perfect colour - ironically named charred ash (I have included an image to prove this). I had not imagined grouting to be so satisfying but it truly was! Covering sharp edges and filling gaps, the grout smoothed away some of the amateurishness of my humble mosaic. It was starting to look good!

After months of working on the mosaic, now it was finished I had to decide where it should live. We wanted to put it where our old place had been, but it took a little while to find the right spot. I wanted it to be visible, but not in the way, and it had to feel right. We decided on the location that had been the corner of our old home. My husband did the grunt work digging it into the ground and fixing it with reo and concrete. Proving you really can’t over-engineer a mosaic cylinder. Then I put a lid on it. A near complete English style cottage that had belonged to my mother in law and had been rescued from a box in our burnt shipping container. A very symbolic crowning of my mosaic! I used a few connecting pieces of a white Maxwell Williams mug gifted by my big sister many years ago to fill the broken side of the house. To complete my bushfire mosaic I planted a spiky, colourful and resilient succulent.

#bushfire #mosaic #recovery #resilience #nswbushfires #phoenix

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