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velvet4510 · 6 months

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I just want to point something out.

There’s a big reason why we should be pretty darn grateful for Gollum, and it’s not the obvious one.

Because think of what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been there at the Cracks of Doom when the Ring finally overpowered Frodo. If Frodo or Sam had killed him, or if he’d somehow been mentally capable of heeding Frodo’s warning and just getting out of there.

Some who mention this cut straight to “Sauron would’ve won.” Which is an easy assumption. The Nazgul could’ve gotten there, killed Sam, and taken the Ring back to Sauron. But what would’ve happened to Frodo?

I think it’s more likely that instead of quickly killing Frodo right then and there alongside Sam, Sauron would’ve ordered the Nazgul to bring Frodo to him. Someone as malicious as the Dark Lord would probably want to inflict harrowing punishment on the person who endangered his Ring.

And you know what? I think Sam knew this might happen. Sam is not dumb or half-witted in the slightest. This hobbit is clever, smart, downright brilliant. During their trek through Mordor, between having experienced the Ring’s power himself while carrying it and watching it weaken Frodo more and more (especially hearing Frodo directly say “I am almost in its power, I could not give it up”), it must have occurred to Sam that the Ring was going to win Frodo’s internal battle.

Sam had already planned so many strategies throughout the quest. Ensuring they had enough to eat and drink, figuring out how to beat Shelob and break into the dark tower… Sam is a great strategist. As any good gardener must be. It’s in his nature. So I feel like he must’ve figured out ahead of time what was likely to happen, and thought about a possible Plan B to complete the Quest.

And I also feel like his consideration of a Plan B would be less about saving Middle-earth itself and more about saving Frodo. Our dear Sam Gamgee would naturally try to think of every possible option that would prevent Sauron from trapping his beloved Frodo in his torture chambers for years and years.

So, when you put it all together, if Gollum hadn’t been there to take back the Ring, Sam would’ve had no other choice but to throw Frodo and himself into the Fire after Frodo put on the Ring. This would’ve destroyed the Ring, saved Frodo from it, and enabled them to die together like they expected (and, I dare say, wanted). I’m certain this was Sam’s plan. Now, would he actually have been able to do so? That’s debatable. Because it would’ve been an act of will with the intent of destroying the Ring, which is quite impossible to act on in the Cracks of Doom. But if Sam had just concentrated on Frodo and not thought about the Ring at all, considered it an act for Frodo and not for the Ring, perhaps he could’ve done it. Feel free to argue either way.

The likelihood of this plan of Sam’s is why I don’t like how in the movie, Sam is yelling at Frodo “Destroy it! Just let it go! Throw it in the Fire! What are you waiting for?” Essentially echoing the audience’s thoughts, of course … but would Tolkien’s Sam actually say this? No. From everything he witnessed, Tolkien’s Sam knew that Frodo wouldn’t be able to let it go and prepared himself to make the ultimate sacrifice to complete the Quest. This is a nuance that the screenwriters clearly didn’t pick up on, or just ignored in favor of making Sam a voice for the audience. But doesn’t it make more sense for Sam to say nothing in that scene, as he does in the book, because he already knew what would happen?

This is why I’m thankful to Gollum. If he hadn’t been there, there’s a chance that Sauron still would’ve lost, but there’s also a guarantee that Frodo and Sam would’ve died in the worst possible way … if not at Sauron’s hands, then Sam would’ve had to kill himself and the great love of his life.

Thank you, Gollum, for ensuring this didn’t happen and saving our favorite hobbits. Even though saving them was no part of your intentions.

#lotr #jrr tolkien #lotr theories #samwise gamgee #frodo baggins #frodo x sam #gollum #lord of the rings #lotr books #samfro

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emsylcatac · 11 months

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I told myself I wouldn't write anymore but guess I lied and made an exception for tonight oop-

(no beta so sorry if some grammar's weird. also no leaks please I haven't read any & I'd like for it to stay that way)

I might add a 2nd chapter to fix that mess but when will this happen? will this actually happen?? who knows certainly not me

*****

“And then I had lunch with Nino,” Adrien said. “That was nice. We hadn’t managed to eat together for at least a week.”

Ladybug smiled. “I’m glad. I can’t picture you two being separated for too long.”

“Well, we don’t really have a choice this year. He picked literature, and I picked scientific. We’re not in the same class anymore,” he shrugged with half a smile, before brightening up. “But we still see each other during the breaks!”

Adrien then launched into an explanation of the rules of the latest board game he and Nino had played during the afternoon break. He kept looking into Ladybug’s eyes all the while, delighting in the way they lit up at his enthusiasm, and taking pride in the small chuckles that escaped her lips when he retold a particularly funny joke he’d made.

Ladybug loved hearing about his day. He knew she did because she always asked about it, every day when they reunited, sitting cross-legged face-to-face on the floor. And every day, she nodded along his stories and encouraged him to tell her more.

And Adrien loved telling her about his day. It had taken some time before he allowed himself to fully recount every detail that had happened, having never really been used to talking about himself at all with his father. But unlike his father who would cut him with a stern look or – he later realised – a twist of his ring, Ladybug never seemed tired to hear him talk.

Once he finished telling her about how Tom Dupain had insisted –again– on giving him free chouquettes when he stopped by the bakery, Adrien asked: “And you, my Lady, how was your day?”

She smiled sadly, in a way he was now too familiar with, and his heart dropped.

Of course.

“Oh. Right. You can’t tell me. I forgot.”

Like every single day.

He looked away from her, not wanting to see the pity nor the apology he was sure to find in her eyes. The red kwagatama on his neck suddenly felt too heavy.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he knew she was. It hurt nonetheless.

“That’s okay,” he whispered back, knowing well that it very much wasn’t. Adrien was scared it never would be.

“You’re allowed to be angry at me, you know,” Ladybug said, not for the first time since he’d started meeting her in secret.

“It’s not your fault. It’s my father’s,” he spat out the word. “And I’m…” he sighed, and with it let all his energy leave his body. “Ladybug, I’m so tired of being angry at people. I can’t… I can’t be angry with you on top of it.”

It wasn’t entirely true. A small part of him was angry with her, but he knew that she was suffering from the consequences just as much if not more than he did. And he truly was exhausted of feeling angry all the time, at his father, at Nathalie, at his mother, everyone who pretended they wanted the best for him but ended up destroying themselves instead; at Félix for keeping him in the dark, at himself for being too stupid to see what had been right under his nose. The list was long enough as it was and didn’t need to include Ladybug, who was a victim of his father's power hunt just as much as he was.

“But you’re allowed to be,” Ladybug said softly.

He felt a tear prickling at the corner of his eye.

“Oh, Adrien” Ladybug breathed, and he hated himself for how sad he’d made her sound. She extended a hand towards him. “I really want to grab your hand.”

He sniffed, and whipped his stray tear away before a stream could run on his cheek. “I really want you to grab my hand, too. And kiss it.” He reached for hers back but stopped millimeters away.

Ladybug smiled shyly, and he could guess the ghost of a blush creeping up her cheeks. “I want you to kiss my hand, Chaton. I always loved when you did it.”

This time, he felt his own cheeks lit up. They got lost in each other’s eyes, hands never quite touching, lulling Adrien further into the illusion that what they were sharing now was real.

But as it always did, reality found a way to crash down on him like the cold in the night right before dawn. Except unlike dawn that promised warmth and light, Adrien’s world stayed cold and dark as his phone rang. He glared at the traitorous device until he saw the name of the caller.

“Who is it?” Ladybug asked.

Adrien smiled bitterly. “Marinette.”

“Oh. Um…” Ladybug wriggled awkwardly. “Are you going to answer her?”

Adrien wasn’t sure he felt strong enough for that. But he had promised her and himself that he’d be there for her, no matter what.

So he took a deep breath, and picked up the phone.

“Hey. What’s up?”

Sniffles greeted him on the other side, and he instantly felt bad for guiltily spending time with Ladybug when he could have been supporting her.

“He made me another strawberry tartlet. Tom– I mean, my dad. He…he told me again how much ‘she’ used to love them. He told me again how ‘she’d’ always steal some from the bakery counter as a kid. He thinks because ‘she’ loved strawberries that I would too.” Marinette let out a sob. “Well, you know what? I don’t love strawberries. I’m tired of strawberry tartlets. They’re fine, but they’re not my favourites, they’re her favourites. And I’m so sick of pretending they are to not hurt him.”

Adrien listened as she caught her breath, feeling at a loss for words.

“I loved my dad’s strawberry tartlets,” Ladybug interrupted sadly. “It reminded me of the picnics we shared on holidays in the countryside when I was a kid. We’d always eat some by the river.”

Adrien nodded in acknowledgement. It made sense that Marinette couldn’t understand what made this pastry so special.

“I’m so sorry, Marinette,” he whispered so quietly he wasn’t sure she heard him.

“Everyone…everyone expects me to be just like her and I keep disappointing them because I can’t satisfy the expectations they have of me,” Marinette choked. “They want me to like sewing, they want me to wear pink… I can’t with pink anymore, all my bedroom walls are pink, everywhere I look there’s pink, it’s too much! I feel like… I feel like I’m suffocating.”

Adrien squeezed his eyes shut, fighting against tears that were threatening to take over him. She sounded so broken. He knew she was, of course he did, but he hadn’t realised how much she’d been holding in all this time. How much she’d been pretending for their sake – and as someone who’d mastered the skill for most of his life, he couldn’t let her suffer from it.

And holding onto her ghost that he wasn’t quite ready to let go just yet wasn’t going to help her. It wasn’t fair to either of them. He knew all too well how to grieve someone he’d lost. But how did he grieve for someone who was still there?

Adrien took a deep breath, trying to get his voice under control. “I’m coming over, okay Marinette ? And then, I’m taking you to the store.”

Ladybug nodded in encouragement.

“And…and you’ll pick whatever colour you like. And I’ll… I’ll help you repaint your room with it, okay? How does that sound?”

Marinette sniffled. “Any colour I want? What if it’s something she hated?”

Adrien’s voice quivered. “What matters is what you want. I think she’d…I think she’d want you to feel good.” Ladybug smiled softly, nodding. “I want you to feel good.”

“Thank you, Adrien,” Marinette whispered. “I really…I really appreciate it. I’ll get ready,” and she hung up.

Adrien stared at his phone silently for a long time, before snapping his gaze back at Ladybug.

“My Lady, I’m so–”

“Don’t,” she lifted a finger that went through his lips. “Don’t apologise. Especially not if it’s to take care of me,” she smiled. “Thank you for that. I really admire you, you know.”

“I really admire you too,” he said quietly.

“You should tell her that,” she replied. “She’d appreciate it.”

“I will,” he vowed.

He didn’t want to leave Ladybug just yet. But he knew it wasn’t reasonable to drag this on, and Plagg or Tikki would be coming back soon anyways. He really didn’t need to go through another lecture of how him meeting Ladybug hurt him more than it did him good, and that Marinette hadn’t given him her kwagatama for that.

Adrien spared one last glance at Ladybug, took a deep breath, and let his eyes flutter shut.

“End of reunion,” he whispered.

When he opened his eyes again, he was alone in the quiet of the room.

#def not my best writing but I've had that idea in mind for a while so guess it's out of the way now #I wrote that with Lisa & Amanda in mind cause they looooove that trope 🙄#sorry Ashley I did us both dirty #ladrien #adrinette #angst #hurt maybe comfort later who knowsssss #ml fanfic #myshitwriting

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sequinsmile-x · 21 days

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The Games We Play - Chapter 1

She’d survived the very worst a person could, lived through things that still kept her up at night, the screams of other innocent people ringing in her head as sleep evaded her.

She’d survived so much, but she didn’t think she’d survive leading him to his death.

A Hunger Games AU

-x-

Hi friends,

Well here it is. The crowning jewel in my crown of insanity. The most unhinged AU I've ever come up with.

I had this idea months ago when watching The Hunger Games, another one of my hyperfixations, and I started teasing a few people saying I'd write a Hotchniss AU based on it. Then I started getting close to a couple of milestones on here...both hitting 2 million words of fanfic and 1,000 followers on tumblr. So I said I'd write this when I hit those milestones.

Both happened yesterday.

So, here we are. I really hope you enjoy this, I've worked really hard on the story and making it fit for our beloved CM characters as well as the setting of The Hunger Games.

The next chapter will be up in a few days. For now it is set as 4 chapters, it might turn into 5 if I get a little carried away.

As always, please let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 2.5k

A full list of warnings can be found on the series master list

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“Emily, it’s almost time to go.”

She sighs as her mother calls out for her and she closes her eyes, blowing out a shaky breath before she looks at herself in the mirror. She runs her fingers through her dark, perfectly curled hair, making sure it was lying over her shoulders. The dark green tea dress her mother had picked out for her came down to just above her knees, the colour of it complimenting her skin tone. It was velvet, soft and clearly expensive even just to look at, her appearance at odds with almost everyone else in her district.

She looked every bit like the Victor she wished she wasn’t.

It had been three years since she’d won. Since her name had been called out in the town square, the murmuring of her peers around her, whispers that ‘the mayor's daughter’ hadn’t even been safe fading out as she walked to the stage. In her worst moments, the timing of her mother’s reelection, something that looked unlikely at the time, and her reaping felt suspicious. The mayor’s daughter going into the games and becoming the first Victor for the district in a quarter of a century had won the election in a landslide.

It wasn’t lost on Emily that even if she’d died in the arena her mother would have likely won again anyway.

She liked to think that her mother hadn’t put her life at risk for a small grab of power, that she hadn’t made some deal and bartered her 15-year-old daughter’s survival like a chip in a poker game, hoping no one saw her bluff. She liked to think that, but she knew enough about how it all worked, had seen enough in the Capitol since becoming a Victor to know that power was the most important currency in this country. Instead, Emily actively ignored the truth laid out in front of her, knowing that in order to maintain appearances she had no other choice.

She’d won, but sometimes she wondered if she’d ever left the arena at all.

She looks at herself in the mirror one last time, smoothing her hands down her dress, her palms lingering over where the large scar on her abdomen was, the injury that had almost killed her. It was unsightly, something that made her wince whenever she saw it, but she stood by her decision to not have the Capitol remove it. She wanted to remember every day what she’d survived.

“I’m ready.”

The walk to the town square is familiar. She’s sure she could do it in her sleep, a death march she’d been part of her whole life, something she’d done long before she qualified for the games in the first place. She felt a sense of relief that her friends would age out this year, that this was the final time their names would be in the draw, their 18th birthdays always coming with a sigh of relief because it was the last time they’d stand there, their breath caught in their lungs as they waited to hear their name called out.

It feels like a weight is lifted from her shoulders when she spots Dave the moment she steps into the town hall. He was her mentor and friend, the only other victor to ever come from their district. The only other person who knew what it took from someone to win the games and come home alive.

“Hey kid,” he says, pulling her into a hug, one she returns gratefully. She freezes when she hears a throat clear from behind her, her mother’s disapproval at the father figure in her life something she’d made clear. Emily smiles tightly at Dave as she pulls back from him, and she conceals a smile when he winks at her, “You ready?”

She blows out a slow breath. None of this ever got any easier. Having to stand on stage in silence, a fake smile painted on her face, as more children were picked for a death they’d done nothing to deserve. The screams of the parents constantly echoed in her head, never quite going away. They always came back with a vengeance when the tributes died and she knew she was going home on an empty train, with no way she could possibly comfort anyone.

She’d become a cog in the machine that she hated, and she wasn’t sure how she’d ever escape. Her victory and her biggest crime both wrapped up in surviving, in pulling herself out of the pit she’d been thrown into when she was 15.

“Yeah,” she breathes out, pressing her lips together as she lets her mask slip into place, “I’m ready.”

___

He has to encourage this brother out of the house.

His father was passed out drunk in the living room, and his mother was close to hysterical at the thought of Sean being old enough to go into the games now, a level of emotion Aaron didn’t ever remember her showing for him.

He wraps his arm around Sean’s shoulders as they approach the town square, and he feels the 12-year-old tense, his body tight with a fear that Aaron remembered well. It was a feeling that oddly faded over the years, leaving him almost apathetic now, the reality that this was the final year he’d have to do this almost lost on him until his mother mentioned it in passing that morning.

“It will be okay Sean,” Aaron says, stopping to look at his brother, a smile he hopes is reassuring on his face, “It’s your first year. People rarely get their name called on their first year.”

Sean nods and carries on walking towards the signing-in point, “Will Mom and Dad come?”

Aaron sighs as he ruffles his younger brother's hair, “Mom probably will. Dad’s…resting after a long day at work yesterday.”

“I’m 12, not stupid Aaron,” he says, and they come to a stop again before they both join their respective lines, “You don’t have to protect me anymore,” he shrugs, a playful smile spreading across his face, “If the government think I’m old enough to die for entertainment, I’m old enough to know Dad is a piece of crap.”

Aaron chuckles and shakes his head before he ruffles Sean’s hair again, wondering when his little brother had grown up, “Don’t talk like that.”

Sean shrugs him off, any remnants of nerves long gone, “See you after?”

He nods, “See you after.”

Aaron sighs as he signs in, not even flinching as they take a drop of blood to confirm his identity, and he then walks over to the holding pen for his year group. He pauses for a moment when he spots Haley, his smile tight as their eyes meet. They’d dated for the last couple of years but ended their relationship recently, a difference in opinion on what life would hold for them once they were free from this pulling them apart. She smiles back, offering him a small wave before she turns back to her friends, and he finds a place to stand.

He looks up as the doors to the town hall open, the usual anthem playing out through crackly speakers set up around the square. His gaze is immediately fixed on Emily, her beauty as distracting as it always had been.

He’d known her all his life. She was from the other side of town, but they’d always gone to school together. She was nice, and funny and beautiful, never using the fact she was the mayor’s daughter to try and gain favour or popularity. If anything, she seemed to butt against the privilege it would give her, constantly pushing boundaries. They were friends for most of their lives, and always spent as much time together as possible. He’d been in love with her, always convincing himself that one day they could be more than friends.

Then she was reaped and everything changed.

He’d watched the games closer than he ever had that year, looking out for her as much as possible, always feeling a strange sense of elation and fear the moment he saw her. When she won he was happy, delighted that she’d survived, that he wouldn’t have to imagine a life without her, but she came back different. Changed by the things she had seen and done in the games.

She never returned to school, the life of a Victor seemingly a busy one, and her initial attempts at spending time with him faded away once he started to date Haley. Their friendship changed by circumstances beyond their control. He’d aged out of school just a few months ago and soon as he’d turned 18 he’d got a job alongside his father.

Aaron missed Emily, even though she was right in front of him, and he wanted to fix things one day, to be whatever she needed.

She always looked like she needed a friend, her life as lonely as it was busy, her only real company these days found in David Rossi - the only other Victor from their district.

Their eyes briefly meet, her’s flicking towards him, a brief smile flashing across her face before she continues to look forward, stoic and strong in a way she’d been since long before he stood hopelessly in this very spot when her name rang out around them.

He’s drawn back into what’s going on around him, all the explanations for why this was happening, the price they were paying for a war fought and lost long before they were born. The enthusiasm with which the woman from the Capitol explained it all always got his shackles up, her brightly coloured clothes and hair as out of place as her zeal for selecting teenagers to send to their deaths.

Emily had told him once, fresh back from the games, her clothes stuffed with padding to try and hide the weight she’d noticeably lost, that the woman’s name was Penelope. That she was actually nice, albeit misguided, and that she’d been one of the few people in the Capitol Emily had been able to get along with.

“Ladies first,” Penelope says, reaching into the giant bowl, dipping her hand into the pile of slips of paper, a literal hand of fate dealt to someone standing in the crowd. She picks a slip and unfolds it, stepping back in front of the microphone, “Kate Joyner.”

Aaron looks over at Kate and sees the momentary panic flash through her before she steps away from the crowd and walks over to the stage. She was 17 and in the year below at school, someone he’d always got along with any time that they interacted. He feels guilty for the flash of relief that rushes through him when he realises this means Haley was free, that she’d never be at risk of going through all of this again. Despite everything, he still loved her, had still imagined a future with her, and he was happy she’d get to have the life she deserved and wanted.

He looks back at the stage and sees Emily reach out and touch Kate’s arm as she stands next to her, a brief thing he’s sure no one else would notice unless they were looking right at her. It’s a moment of comfort, something that he’s sure doesn’t even touch the surface of what Kate is feeling. But it’s something. A reminder she isn’t alone in this.

At least, she wouldn’t be alone until the moment she stepped into the Arena.

“And now for the gentlemen,” Penelope says, and Aaron feels his breath catch in his chest, the few moments it takes her to pick a name seem to last a lifetime, everything drawn out into slow motion, even the breeze in Emily’s hair, loose strands moving in the wind with more freedom than any of them had ever had. Penelope picks up one of the slips of paper and unfolds it, “Sean Hotchner.”

It takes a moment for Aaron’s brain to catch up, for him to realise what’s happened. He snaps his head to where his brother is standing. He can see from where he is that Sean is panicking, that tears are flooding his eyes as his peers step backwards from him, making it clear to everyone exactly who he is. It seemed unfair, cruel that his brother had been picked on his first ever time when this was Aaron’s sixth time going through this process.

Aaron doesn’t think about it, his body moving on autopilot, his desire to spare his brother from this, to save him in a way he hadn’t been to save him from their father, driving him forward. He’s standing on the path leading to the stage before Sean can even start to walk towards it, and he sucks in a deep breath, before he says two words that he’s sure all but sign his death warrant.

“I volunteer.”

___

She freezes as she watches him walk out from where he was standing. She already knew what was about to happen. He was brave to a fault, foolhardy with his own safety, and he loved his brother. He held everyone he cared about in higher esteem than himself. His almost subconscious desire to protect everyone around him even to his own detriment something she’d known about since they were small children.

He’d once taken the blame for damaging a vase in her mother’s house that she’d broken, claiming it was his fault that it had fallen from the table it had been sitting on even though it was her who had knocked it over. He’d teased her about it for years, and winked as he told her that owed him one.

Emily can’t help but stare as he walks up the stairs to the stage and stands next to Penelope.

“A volunteer, how exciting,” Penelope says, her exuberance something Emily cannot find comfort in for once, “What’s your name?”

“Aaron…” he says, clearing his throat, “Aaron Hotchner.”

His name rings out around the town square, a death rattle he was ringing himself. One that had led so many to their demise before him. The last few years it had happened under her watch, and it takes everything in her not to gasp, to continue to play the part of the victor she’d been for three years now.

She’d survived the very worst a person could, lived through things that still kept her up at night, the screams of other innocent people ringing in her head as sleep evaded her. She’d survived so much, but she didn’t think she’d survive leading him to his death.

Not when she’d been in love with him for as long as she could remember.

-x-

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bengiyo · 8 months

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Sing My Crush: Men Need to Be Angry Sometimes

Now that episodes 5 and 6 of Sing My Crush have aired, I finally feel like I have the confidence and timing to write this post. I’m not sure how many men are in Tumblr BL fandom watching and writing along with us, but it often feels like there’s less than ten of us. As such, there are times when these guys express intense emotions that the (femme) fandom at large seems to struggle with that make perfect sense for me, particularly when it comes to anger.

The most notable recent example of my breaking with fandom reactions happened with Episode 10 of La Pluie with Phat’s explosion in the rain confrontation and aftermath. I thought that Phat’s betrayal and hurt came through loudly, and I totally understood him finally losing his cool after being dicked around by Saengtai for multiple years. Others struggled with this and turned on Phat. Today, I want to talk about Han Baram and Im Hantae and Hantae’s choice to take Baram to a boxing gym to vent out his frustrations.

Quite a bit happens in this episode in terms of the broad spectrum of male feeling. With Sangin, you get his need for control and power. He is cruel in every interaction and physically throws Baram into a wall to yell in his face.

He derides Hantae and diminishes the support he’s given Baram for years.

With Jeong Pal, we get him crying and despondent over Baram’s decision to leave them. He is allowed to be upset, and all Hantae asks is that they try to trust Baram.

Baram is so sad for me because he’s always holding so much of his feelings inside. I love Baram’s confession to Hantae in this episode because it feels not too dissimilar to the first love song he wrote: Letter of Apology. He feels like his feelings are a burden to others and that he is inconveniencing them. He doesn’t even wait around to let Hantae process what’s going on, like many of his K-BL brethren recently (Looking at you Our Dating Sim and Individual Circumstances!).

Finally, we get to In Hamtae. After all the awful things that have gone down this episode, he is so gentle with Han Baram before taking him to the boxing gym.

He leads him by the hand to a seat and gently wraps his hands for him even as you can see he’s still pissed with Han Baram the whole time. He even takes a moment to laugh and call Baram cute while putting on the headgear.

Once they finally get to the boxing ring, he gives Baram a literal shove to get his emotions out so he can finally vent his frustrations. He tells Baram to envision his right hand and Jin Sangin and his left hand as Im Hantae. He sees the uncertainty in Baram’s eyes, and reassures him that he envisions punching Baram’s face all the time and to not overthink it. He cheers Baram on as he finally starts to punch with force. We even get to hear Baram’s exertions as he’s finally letting out his feelings.

Y’all, when I tell you I started to cry so hard as Baram finally got to audibly express some of his frustrations. He needed to be mad. He deserved to be mad. What Sangin did to him was cruel. He ruined Baram’s first confession. He made him feel weird and undesirable. He later stole his goddamned song from him. He threatened him if Baram tried to fight back in any way. Baram needed to express that anger. It isn’t always going to be pretty, and I love that Im Hantae gave him a space to do that.

Still, we’re not done. Im Hantae makes them switch places, and he’s practiced at this. He says all of the feelings that are on his mind:

If you go to Highcode Entertainment, what about our band?

What about our dream?

What about me?

You’re so bad. How could you have confessed in that way?

That’s why you got dumped.

Then he throws the gloves at Han Baram, who asks such a heartbreaking question: “Why is it so tiring to like someone? What did I do wrong?” Im Hantae hugs him, and Han Baram is finally starting to push back on how others make him feel when he chides Hantae for how hard he hit him. Hantae assures him that he did nothing wrong and the two of them end up resting on the floor of the gym together in a shot that definitely came from the source material.

I just absolutely love that the final scenes of this episode are about how righteous it is for Baram and Hantae to be angry and upset about the things that have happened, including the things they might have done to each other. Men feel the full gamut of emotions, and anger is one of those. Sometimes that anger comes out explosively, and often it’s ugly. It is so important to me that we earnestly engage with men’s anger in a genre about close, personal relationships. We often get angry on behalf of characters that are being done wrong, and I think it’s so important that we interrogate the kinds of anger we allow characters to express in our shows.

With these two, there’s something so special about the tenderness Hantae showed Baram before, during, and after the boxing sequence to make sure Baram finally let out his own frustrations and hurt.

#Ben writes #sing my crush #korean bl #bl series

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memoriashell · 2 months

Text

okay i’ve been seeing some things go around due to one of kodaka’s bluesky posts, so i’m going to throw my hat in the ring and offer my interpertation based on what i got out of his original post. since i think some things have gotten lost in translation and have gotten some misinterperations spreading because of it.

tldr; i don't think kodaka retconned or anything, owada is still ishimaru's first real friend by far.

disclaimer, i’m not fluent in japanese, so i'm not claiming that this is perfect or potentially not without misunderstandings. i’ve also included some translation notes to clarify some things that i felt needed clarification and to offer explanation as to why i reached the conclusions that i did.

kyappu-o ’s question:

最近石丸清多夏の中学生活が気になって美味しい物しか喉を通らない状態です！

These days, [I’ve] been wondering about Ishimaru Kiyotaka’s middle school life, and the circumstance is that appealing things cannot be swallowed.*

* Okay, I know this isn’t really important in the grand scheme of things, but the second part of the question was giving me a little difficulty; mainly because I think it’s probably slang that doesn’t 100% translate. Anyways, the connitation here is implied to be negative, so I think unlike the translation that’s been going around, it isn’t meant to be a positive statement. If I had to guess, in English something that is hard to swallow is generally a negative thing, or at least not positive usually; so I think there is a similar euphiusm in Japanese. In turn, I think the request might have been implying that they were requesting they wanted to know something not so positive. Again, this is just a guess, and not really important in the grand scheme of things.

kodaka’s response:

クレヨンしんちゃんの、しんちゃんみたいな自由奔放な友人がいて、毎日振り回されていました。

Similar to Shin-chan from Crayon Shin-chan*, there was a free-spirited friend**, and every day [Ishimaru] was pushed around***.

でも、引っ越してしまって、寂しい石丸少年でした。

But [the friendship] ended when [that person] moved, and Ishimaru was a lonesome youth [following this] ***.

* Not going to lie, this one is probably hard to follow a little without the context of knowing what Shin-chan is. Here's the wikipedia if you want to better understand the idea of 'free spirited' that is being conveyed here; but basically, five year old that is very brazen, I guess. Basically, attitude wise this friend was the opposite of Ishimaru.

Also, while 自由奔放 doesn't exactly translate to free-spirited, it is close in meaning; it translates to free and uncontrolled, or behaving with abandon.

** As a note, 友人 (yuujin) is used here instead of 友達 (tomodachi); which is a more formal way of saying friend. I would assume Kodaka's word choice is pretty intentional here. I'd say it's to convey that despite being friends, this wasn't a close friendship; just closer than classmates, perhaps.

*** This is the part I think has gotten a little misunderstood. 振り回す can be intereperted a few ways, which includes: ++ to show off (generally in the sense of one's knowledge) ++ to abuse (one's power) ++ to manipulate someone

Thus, why the translation I went for was that it's a friendship where Ishimaru's being pushed around. It's open for interpertation how you want to take it, but it's clear that it's probably supposed to be understood as not the most healthiest friendship. Probably a very one-sided one.

**** Also a little bit hesitant on translating this bit, but I think it's mostly correct. To explain why this bit differs from the other translation going around:

While 年 does refer to time, 少年 (shounen) means boy, lad, youth, etc. I think it makes more sense to interpert it as Ishimaru was a lonely youth [afterwards]; rather to break 少年 up to get Ishimaru was lonely for a little time [afterwards].

#kiyotaka ishimaru #danganronpa #* mine #another one for the translation tag >.>#uuuughhhhh i hate being the 'erm achtually' person but this was bugging me so much.#wanted to write this up sooner but i didn't have time. i got sick orz #i'm blaming tiktok for the misunderstandings. i don't know if it's true or not but i'm blaming tiktok regardless.

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iconocon · 2 years

Text

future of monaco | leclerc | 4

summary: choices are never easy are they?

warnings: uh cheating? but really a whole lot of angst

word count: 2k | ⚔︎ ANGST

part 1 part 2 part 3

⏤

and with that, he was off out the door rushing while carrying a million things but somehow once again forgetting his phone on the nightstand. hoping to catch him before he was too far gone you too rush out the room but in opening the door you're reminded of what you tried so hard to forget arm raised about to knock on the very door you now clung to trying to hide behind its frame.

"charles, hi"

"we need to talk"

fuck. you were fucked.

→

“I-“ he could tell you were hesitating if not by the sound of your voice then almost definitely by your body language. of course, you were never that lucky because as you leaned into the door as if you were about to close it he obviously was not going to let that happen. one perfectly presented black and white chuck taylors was now placed on the threshold of the hotel room paired with a ringed hand holding onto the door frame. you had two options; harm probably insured multi-billion dollar body parts OR let him in so against your own judgment but probably in the judgment of your lawyers you allow him in. “can we um make this quick”

the surprise on his face did not help the way your heart raced as your oldest friend now walked passed you towards the bed before he started his pleading. “rose you have to, believe me, I never wanted to hurt you”

“but you did”

“I know I did and i’m sorry I did it was a bad race and a bad day and I took it out on you”

those stupid blue eyes were beaming right into every inch of resolve that you built up in the space of your getaway with pierre. you couldn’t look at him. if anything you looked anywhere but his body and it made you feel so small when in reality you had all the power in the room. even if you couldn’t look at him that still didn’t stop you from soaking in every word that came out of his mouth even with his ramblings and frantic hands.

“i had to find out from instagram where my best friend was do you know how weird that was?” and it continued as if he couldn’t find the off button. “in milan she was in fucking milan in a bikini, in a pool, with my other best friend I mean really rose pierre?”

there it was again, the judgment. never once have you judged him for all the skimpy beautiful women he would meet at bars and take home. never once did you tell him he couldn’t do something because it would hurt your feelings, yet here he was throwing it all in your face like it wasn’t his fault in the first place. “what’s wrong with pierre?”

“nothings wrong with pierre but there’s something wrong with you AND pierre” there was the jealousy again something he had absolutely no right in, especially with how he has treated you pushing you to the side until he’s drunk calling you at odd hours in the morning telling you he loves you. charles didn’t know how to love you, he didn’t understand where the boundaries started and ended when it came to you. most of that was your fault because you gave him free rein over you for 20 odd years but now you needed to take that back as none of this was fair not to you or him or even his girlfriend.

“p has been nothing but nice to me”

“p?” the scoff that followed behind also wasn’t lost to your ears. “of course he’s been nice to you we both know how he is”

“what do you mean?”

“he’s always been following you around i mean come on don’t be blind.”

was that true? had pierre always had a thing for you and once again you were too blinded by the wrong one. thinking back to children or even teenagers it made your heartburn that you couldn’t even think of moments past the important ones with this stranger in front of you. he was where all your first were and now you were beginning to realize what everyone meant when they said how unhealthy that was for you.

the fingers brushing the hair out of your eyes sobered up all the thoughts of him as you finally made eye contact. “I meant what I said on the phone” the slurring of I love you rose rang as the distant memory came back. he felt so real, the hand on your face felt so real, but the way he was acting felt like a daydream as if he wasn’t actually here confessing his feelings for you in real-time. “rose, let me make it up to you.” like he was scared you would run out the door and never come back again he made slow movements until his feet now stood ok either side of yours while his hand moved further back into your hair. you knew what he was doing, you knew what was gonna happen next you would be stupid if you didn’t and maybe parts of you wanted it to happen because even as his eyes drifted towards your lips you didn’t move away.

the leaning in felt like slow motion. the feeling of his warm minty breath fanning to mix with yours felt like slow motion. even the feeling of his fingers gripping the back of your head to pull you into him felt slow motion. the kiss, however, was anything but slow motion, the minute you two met all thoughts were gone and you were back to reality gripping onto the front of his hoeodie. even as your back hit the wall you didn’t dare part to even breathe because you knew the minute you actually thought about what you were doing you would start beating yourself up again. you were lost in him, the hand that dug into your sides begging you to jump into his awaiting arms didn't even seem to phase you as you obliged now pinned against the wall.

"rose-" this time it was you who didn't let him finish as you took the opportunity to burn this memory in every inch of his skin you could hold. rolling your hips against his fabric-clad center should've told you that you went too far but the moan that came out of the pair of you made you never want this to end.

the scornful laugh that filled the hotel room at that moment confused your lustful brain as you started taking in the reality of the situation in front of you. here you were pinned against the wall by charles as pierre all sweaty, and now obviously angry but laughing (?) walked into his hotel room.

"wow don't let me interrupt you two" how you kept finding yourself in these situations you would never fucking know. pushing charles as far away from you as possible you now stood in the middle of the hallway awkwardly watching pierre like a hawk as he walked by you two and now to the bed where he drops his things than himself before looking at you. “no continue come on”

not trusting your own voice you listen as charles responds, “come on man”

“i wanna hear from her, not you”

“don’t do that”

“i can't ask her how it feels to have both of us on her lips?” the smile on his face was wide almost like he was enjoying this, you knew pierre was petty and usually you also loved that side of him but here it was biting you in the ass. “c’mon cherie who’s the better kisser tell us”

you couldn’t handle this. you could barely handle the both of them alone and now here they were cock fighting over you taking up all the air in the room.

“talk to me colombe”

“pierre shut up rose come with me”

“she’s not fucking leaving”

the sound of you struggling to catch your breath you could only assume stopped both of them in their bickering tracks as they watched the color drain from your face.

“i can’t do this” before ethier one could grab you from the hallway you were gone. running and running and running. down the hallway, through the stairwell, it felt like forever until you saw the exit door to the outside. you wish you could say you stopped there but you kept going for blocks not even paying attention to the empty roads you were crossing until you saw what you were looking for. the sand humbled you as your running feet got stuck in the earth finally catching your breath as you inhaled nothing but the salty air. how did you get in this situation a month ago you were sitting in your apartment on the phone with your friends still denying your feelings for anyone and now you kissed the two men that literally built you into the person you were today.

even as the air got colder and the wind got harsher you sat on the sand with your head between your knees running your fingers in the sand, sometimes drawing dumb pictures other times messing up what you already drew. you wish you even had a choice to make because maybe that would make this easier. it wasn’t picking between them it was picking which one you couldn’t be without and you would rather have neither than go down that road.

the shouting of your name wasn’t what reached your ears first instead the sight of bright red and navy blue mixed together barreled into your eyesight. the both of them struggling against the sand running wildly towards you had to be some type of comedy act as the one in red was clumsily catching up to the wide strides of his counterpart.

“colombe” “rose”

it was mind-numbing, after every scenario you played through you did not imagine BOTH of them working together to find you. you knew eventually one would as the beach has always been your place. a place where you would sit for hours to even make the simplest decisions. even though you didn’t answer them they still understood what you needed each taking a seat beside you in the sand to stare out to where the moon met the sea.

“I can’t lose you”

even without naming who you were talking to your respective counterparts knew you meant them both and all you could do is hope they wouldn’t give you the ultimatum you’ve been dreading.

“rose im sorry”

“yeah charles is sorry”

“pierre”

when you finally looked over unamused at him and his dumb joke the huge cheshire grin that took up his whole face broke you into a fit of exhaustive laughter to the point that yours was still louder than the ones that joined you. finally giving into the sand you stretch out sighing as you become one with it now looking up at the stars not missing a beat as the three of you bunched together to the point that you couldn’t tell who’s hair was who’s, foreheads touching as you stargazed like you did when you were all kids camping. watching on you didn't miss the gasp or point from charles as a shooting star crossed from east of the sky to the west as you closed your eyes now wishing for monaco to forgive you for the mess you made.

⏤

mistakes? yes ill come back and fix but IM SORRY I hoped you liked this ending I wanted to at least give a somewhat happy ending as i didn't think charles or pierre would get justice from anything else but i appreciate all the love and support on the series as it was just originally one part thank you!

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #pierre gasly x reader #f1 drabble #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #f1 one shot #f1 x oc #driver x reader #pierre gasly #charles x reader #charles leclerc x reader #leclerc imagine #f1 x you #📗#monaco series!#PART 4

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petalouda85 · 2 months

Text

Another WIP post

Last time I did this, I did it to quell my nerves before an interview. Now, I’m posting more WIPs because I never heard back about a second interview 😞 and after some not-so-great news from my current job, I’m in serious need of a dopamine boost. So enjoy an opening sneak peak to more (angsty) Tyril/Kassandra fics. It has no title yet.

Tag list: @liviusofpella, @megas-choices, @starlight-starfury, @dutifullynuttywitch

When Kassandra awoke, all she felt was pain, the slightest twist of her body shooting fire through every nerve and every muscle. The high pitched ringing in her ears gradually lessened, allowing her to hear the noises of the ongoing battle around her, determination reinvigorating in her. A groan escaped her as she tried to sit up, catching only a glimpse of the source of her pain before it forced her to lie down again.

A massive wound covered her stomach, the blood dripping easily from it. Gritting her teeth, she pressed her hand down on the wound and in a swift movement, rolled onto her stomach. She breathed heavily to quell the pain but it was quickly replaced by a gasp as she finally saw the carnage around her.

Her friends were strewn around her, bleeding, all still and unmoving, the victims of the Empress’ wrath. With Valax on their side, they had landed blow after blow, making the Empress bleed and her skin crack. When they hit one strike too many, the Empress had burst out her powers in a rage, sending Kassandra and the others flying, the magic shredding at their skin.

Kassandra looked at all the bodies. Everyone was present, Tyril nearest to her.

“Tyril?” She called out to him, her voice barely audible over the wind. The elf didn’t move and worry bit at her heart. “Tyril?” She cried, her worry morphing into fear when he still didn’t move. She reached for him but all she grabbed was dirt and grass. “Tyril!” Tears rolled out of her eyes. With a pained shout, she forced herself to crawl, finally close enough to grab onto his hand, relief washing over her when she heard him groan in response and ever so slightly tighten his grip on her hand. She wanted to weep loudly when he opened his eyes a crack, blue meeting brown; how she wished she could bask in that moment for an eternity but she was running out of time. She looked over her shoulder at the Empress, hurling her magic and slaughtering those that dared get too close. Kassandra squeezed her eyes shut, tears escaping despite her best efforts. She knew what she had to do.

“Kassandra?” He whispered as she pressed a long, hard kiss on his knuckles.

“I love you. So much.”

#sorry (not sorry) for the cliffhanger #tyril starfury #tyril x mc #blades of light and shadow #bolas 2 #playchoices #my writing

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rawliverandgoronspice · 9 months

Note

"And I genuinely don’t think either of you understand HOW Zelda turns back to a Hylian at the end of the game.

I’m sorry but these are exceptionally poor analysis and criticisms of the game and it’s cut scenes." As the anon who wrote the ask who started this, I'll just say... nah. Also, pro-tip, don’t be angry, eat a banany. 🍌 You say that all the elements give a lot of insight into Zelda, her relationship, and all that… and then just explain it in the most barebones accusatory way possible, instead of just giving a polite counter and constructively explaining WHY you disagree. Since you apparently just wanna be angy that someone doesn’t like what you likes, and explains why they criticise it, I don’t think there really is a point to argue. Honestly, my best tip is: Eat nanner, shhhhhhh, touch grass, go sleep. Move on. Ps: Banana’s are the worst.

Also, lemme add, add some spice to your salt: “It reveals Zelda’s feelings for Link which have clearly significantly changed since Breath of the Wild.” I did not feel like they changed much at all, Zelda still feels like she’s simping for Link hard, it's just a few years later now. 😜 Extra bonus: Yeah we know why Zelda got turned back into a Hylian with no repercussions. Bc it had to happen, bc reasons-McGuffin.

Hey!

Yeah, sorry this thing escalated on your ask anon. It got significantly worse after that, so I did block the person because at some point it becomes clear they were having an argument with someone who was simply not in this virtual room and might probably not exist at all anywhere, so there was no point in engaging with a brick wall who was hurling insults based on half a paragraph taken out of context. Pretty sad way to use your free time or deploy love for the media you enjoy, but! To each their own I suppose.

But yeah, I did look it over to see if I missed something, because somebody's tone being inacceptable doesn't mean their arguments also are, but. Yeah. Zelda had her arc of going from being cold and angry with Link to learning to rely on him in Breath of the Wild already, and then literally holds the fort for a hundred years just holding on to the desperate trust that he will arise and become a hero and be capable of defeating the scourge if only she can buy him as much time as she can, which is *crazy* devotion-wise (and also active! in TotK she mostly talks about how much she trusts Link --I guess she turns into a dragon to restore the Master Sword for him, but again I don't believe she really has any other choice and it's not a struggle she must maintain over a hundred years always relying on her own resolve all the way through, so it doesn't translate as hard in my opinion). It's literally her affection for Link and her urge to protect him that awakens her powers! This arc worked great in Breath of the Wild! But TotK loves nothing more than to rethread every character's arc, except again, but less compelling and complicated and without emotional rises or character changes.

Also: a kind tumblr user out there who did not play any game but TotK, believing the marketing that you could basically jump in blind, pointed out to me that there is *no way* to catch onto any of that complexity of their relationship if you haven't played BotW (not that I think it particularly helps). Same deal with the parental thing: they did not bring up the relationship between Zelda and her dad at any point, which makes it a non-information for newcomers. While it is fine to lose some degree of nuance and be a little confused if you jump in a second videogame after the first videogame, you still need to provide something for people to hang onto, and, as I feared, the refusals to expand on BotW backstory didn't seem to help the newcomers familiarize themselves with Hyrule particularly well. Even in extremely well known IPs, it is important to re-establish the bases: jedis are sensitive with the Force, the Ring corrupts its bearer, etc etc. And this was not particularly well done here (for example: it is never explained that Ganondorf is a sorcerer on top of being a Huge Guy that will break your spine with a punch, which makes the appearance of Puppet Zelda *before* he grabs the stone extremely confusing --this relies on pre-assumptions about Ganondorf and a familiarity with the series and its tropes to make any sense, and this is yet another example of what I mean by: this game is awfully self-referential while not really standing on its own two feet).

As for the argument that Zelda was returned to a hylian because of Rauru's arm, Rauru again but ghost (??? hello again?) and Sonia (??? WHY are you here) are actually using recall on the Secret Stone? It's a cool headcanon, and honestly that would have been great and made sense (I mean, a little empty thematically again but at least a cool setup and payoff), but I see nothing that supports that in practice beyond that the power deployed is the color of gold, which, yes, is the color of Recall, buuuut it's also the color of Light and good things and the Triforce and divinity and a billion other things.

If this was what we were meant to take away, then: 1) the actual particles and sound effect of Recall should have been used instead of a vague halo of magical sparkles and 2) the Secret Stone should have hovered and glowed above her chest Laputa-style (thinking of Sheeta from Castle in the Sky, which I'm 99,9% sure was the visual inspiration anyway).

This does not happen. If them using Recall was the intent, then it's badly conveyed. But I see no textual reason to believe this is what's going on.

#asks #thoughts #totk spoilers #totk critical #when will my brain return from the imprisoning war...#zelda #botw #thanks for the ask!#general note however:#I always welcome nice asks that are kindly showing support in uhhh trying times haha #but try to not attack the other part anonymously through the ask system #it puts me in pretty awkward situations where I want to be !! thank you!! but also not. stir up the flames.#I don't particularly want to foster an atmosphere of vindictiveness if I can help it!!

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time-bone-swap-au · 1 year

Text

“Wha- where am I?”

“Calm yourself…I just want to talk…”

“You! You’re that, other master of that Gamer Girl!”

“Ngh…what does she call you…MBK?!”

“That is correct.”

“What do you want?! We already had our little truce, so you can just run off and do whatever business you have with that Mayor!”

“I am aware of the truce, I did not take you here for such interrogation”

“I simply wish to speak with you, that’s all.”

“Speak with me? What could you possibly want that I have?!”

“Are you aware of the story of the Samadhi Fire? The version your parents told you.”

“The one that-?! Erm…hang on why would I tell you that?! Aren’t you sworn brothers with the Great Sage?!”

“So is your father now answer the question.”

“Gah! Fine! It’s a powerful fire capable of destroying the universe itself, if not controlled, luckily by splitting the fire it was able to keep it in a contained state, the rings being capable to, what humans call nowadays ‘nerf’ the fire into a weaker state than it was.”

“Hm? That’s how the rings work?”

“Of course it does! They’re the same rings around Nezha’s neck and arms how else do you think the rings work?!”

“But, if the fire is STRONG and DESTRUCTIVE enough, it has the ability to break free from the rings itself and actually cause damage and destruction.”

“…”

“That’s it?”

“Of course!”

“You know not of it’s origin?”

“It was created by some demon, a demon so powerful not even the Great Sage could stop them.”

“Pft-ahem…”

“Uhm…correct…but do you know who this demon was?”

“How am I supposed to know?! It’s not like I was actually there!”

“How ironic…”

“What?”

“They say the Great Sage only leaves out details and tells the person what they need to know…yet they do the same thing to their son…how hypocritical…”

“What are you talking about?!”

“…”

“What if I were to tell you, that you were the one that created the fire?”

“Wh-What?! You’re not serious! There’s no way! I-I’m not even capable-“

“You are a half-born offspring of a Celestial Maiden of the Flaming Mountains, who controls the very elements of Wind, your father a Demon King, of the Thundering Mountains and liberator of worlds, capable of bringing an entire kingdom to their knees if he wasn’t holding himself back.”

“You are the only one born with power to control the very flames of the earth, to harness it and bend it to your will. And yet you deny your part in its creation?”

“Not to mention that symbol on your back that shows the very Three Rings of the Samadhi Fire, I’d hardly call that a ‘fashion choice’”

“I…well…ARGH! What’s your point?!”

“You have potential, Red Son, but you hold yourself back, despite losing the fire in such a young age, you still continue to create something new, utilizing the very materials of the mortal realm to create the newest inventions and combine ancient magical elements to your will.”

“All held back because you try so hard to please the very people that took that Fire away…”

“I…I-“

“I used to want to please everyone I needed…but do be prepared for disappointment…it’s not everyone that can be pleased…even your own parents won’t think you are ‘useful’ enough.”

“…”

“However…I am not here to criticize you…”

*MBK creates Ice shards in their hands*

“Rather I wish to educate you.”

“E-Educate me?”

“You have so much potential in you Hong Hai’er, but you hold yourself back to your weakness to please your parents…not every child’s decision is the choice of their parents you know…you have a path, a destiny beyond them…you can’t attach yourself to them…that’s not a way to lead to a great future…sometimes even a child needs to let go of their mentors…”

*He holds out her hand*

“Come…I’ll show you how to break past that seal of yours…”

“…”

———————————————————————————

Something for ‘Accepted Fate’

Because I haven’t drawn anything with that concept.

Yes, MBK pretty much despises everyone he remembers as a villain (except Jin and Yin, he kinda considers them nuisances before adopting them as brothers…typical brother behavior) this is mostly not because they’re angry at them for hurting her but because they constantly blame Wukong for things they tend to do sometimes.

Which is why MBK is open to criticizing them.

However, Red Son is an exception…you see he basically sees what Red Son is, a child bound by their parents decisions with no will of their own.

What Red Son is repeating and the hate he gives Wukong is what he’s heard from his parents’ mouths. And his parents can also be unreliable narrators due to their biases against the Great Sage. (Or as MBK sees it)

Which is why he’s trying to guide Red Son to a better path, a better destiny.

And also might have a reservation for the Bone Crown Brotherhood.

#lmk au #lego monkie kid #time bone swap au #lmk mk #lmk qi xiaotian #lmk wukong #lmk mayor #lmk demon bull king #lmk princess iron fan #Accepted Fate

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deadgirlwalkinginadream · 1 year

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I never ever post on here but the TURN fandom is still alive and thriving so I MUST participate. I believe @cabbxges-and-kings started this?

How has it almost been ten years since season 1 aired? God I’m old.

Favorite Season: Season 3 for sure. Everything was heightened constantly. The character development. It’s the full cast in full gear. So many iconic moments.

Least Favorite Season: Season 4. It’s the only season I’ve only rewatched once. (I am constantly rewatching s1-s3). It’s a great season compared to other shows, but there is just something missing to me. However, Abe SHINES this season and I feel like that is super overlooked. Also Caleb’s torture scene is borderline too much for him and entirely taints the season (which is totally the point so well done writers).

Favorite Character(s): So I have five. I have a top five. We’re just gonna deal with it. I want to give an honorable mention to Abigail because she could have totally been 5. I was constantly flip flopping those two. I just want everyone to know I love Abigail to the ends of the world as well.

5. Robert Rogers - Okay so I feel like I might loose some people here. The latest rewatch I did completely solidified this for me. One of my favorite things about TURN is that every time I do a full rewatch I see something different in all the characters. Rogers completely changes a scene just by being mentioned. His presence is so strong, and he’s SO influential to the entire plot of the show without meaning to. His interactions with Abe are AMAZING!! He’s the only character that makes Simcoe fully crack (I see the argument for Hewlett and even Abe but Rogers just did it like no one else). Rogers’ power is not talked about enough in the fandom, and his character stands true as one of the first “bads” of the show, when all he really wanted was to live his life the way he wanted, no strings attached.

4. Robert Townsend - My Quaker. What an intriguing character. He could have completely fell to the sidelines with such a multiple character focused show. His silent nature could have made him overlooked, but he constantly steals every scene. Robert’s morality and loyalty driven ambition are a perfect balance to Abe’s own ambition. Townsend’s interactions with Caleb and Rivington are priceless. He completly surprises every time he’s on screen. The ace among the Culper Spy Ring. The man managed to stay hidden until the 1930s. The perfect definition of a quiet storm. What a badass.

3. Mary Woodhull - What. A. Mother. Fucking. Badass. Dear god. Mary Woodhull is SUCH a well written and well acted character. The minute we meet her, we’re supposed to dislike her. She’s the barrier between Abe and his true love (Shoutout to Anna too I fucking adore her). She is a loyalist who puts her fate in her god. She wants the comfy, big house living. One of my favorite choices in TURN is that Mary never changes. We just get to peel off the exterior layers and see into her own motives. Her heart is dedicated to her family and her family only. She doesn’t care what side that is, and that’s such an interesting character to highlight in a show about the Revolutionary War. Every little thing Mary does is for others. Her willingness to stay as the prop for Hewlett Vs Abe, burning the code book and making the ENTIRE coverup story, aiding Caleb with the burning of the supplies, SHOOTING SIMCOE!!!! She is a firecracker in the thunderstorm. Mary did everything we wanted every character to do. She is the true epitome of quiet strength, and I absolutely loved that about her. She is also SLIGHTLY unhinged, and who doesn’t love an unhinged soft gal?

2. Edmund Hewlett - I could go into a multi page essay about Edmund Hewlett. Every time I rewatch in its’ entirety I love him even more. He was truly a man out of his element, that rose to EVERY occasion played in front of him. He never lost his moral compass, no matter the cards he was played. He was too kind for war, and he paid for it severely. I feel perhaps the most jaded about his story. Hewlett was a stick in a riptide. That being said, what a fucking badass!! He went toe to toe with Simcoe over and over again. What I admire about Hewlett is that he never lost his sense of self. He stayed true to who he was. He was a strategist and he used that to his advantage. He did what had to be done in a way that hurt the least amount of people. He is one of the most honorable characters, and he has some of the best lines.

1. Caleb Brewster - Literally anyone who knows me knows this. Caleb Brewster is an enigma of a character. He’s constantly laughing to hide his trauma. He’s a raging Patriot but only in the war for his friends. He’s technically a solider but he uses a hand axe. He’s part of a spy ring but uses his real name. Caleb Brewster is the sunshine of the Culper Spy Ring. He’s spitfire attitude balances the rest of the cast perfectly, no matter who he’s paired with. You can’t help but smile or smirk whenever Caleb’s on screen. For a show that steers pretty serious, that’s a rare gem of a character to have. Even rarer when that character still has depth. I believe that’s partly due to Henshall’s incredible acting. Brewster never feels too exaggerated. He makes so many (and I mean SO MANY) dumb decisions. He’s down to earth in a time where being serious was more normal. He is perfectly and purposely the odd man in order to create the flow of the ring. Caleb Brewster’s development is a beautiful and heartwretching process. If Caleb didn’t work, the show wouldn’t have worked.

Least Favorite Character: Benedict Arnold :( I can go on a whole evaluation about his character another time, but yes. Him.

Favorite Romantic Couple: John André and Peggy Shippen is an absolute given. God I LOVE them together. I’m also SUCHHHH a sucker for Anna/Hewlett. Both of these couples are so well written and don’t overpower the plot. I want to give a shout-out to Anna/Selah though. I honestly really like them together. I like that they had to grow into being good together. I wish we saw more of them, before the war and after.

Favorite Friendship: It’s Ben and Caleb hands down, but I always love the few Abe and Samuel Townsend interactions we get to see. What a fun dynamic. I also LOVE Anna and Caleb’s relationship. Underrated and so sweet on both ends.

Favorite Episode: I have a couple but my all time favorite is S3E6: Many Mickles Make A Muckle - This is such a catalyst episode. It’s the turning (ha get it) point of the show for me. We have so many character plot points happening BECAUSE of other characters, especially some characters that have been previously separate. Robert Rogers and Robert Townsend, Anna Strong and Samuel Townsend; and then of course so many character interaction payoffs; Abe and Anna being Abe and Anna, Caleb Vs Rogers coming to a head, Simcoe on Abe’s tail constantly. SUCH an amazing episode.

Honorable Mentions: S2E8: Providence, S3E3: Benediction, S2E4: Men of Blood, and S1E10: The Battle of Setauket

Least Favorite Episode: S2E7: Valley Forge

I feel as if this is a typical answer. Listen, I like Georgey Wash as much as the next person…but dear god is still the only slow episode in the whole show. I think it’s because the pacing is so weird? The show has been go go go until this and now it’s Washington lore drop central. Weird choice in progression. I would’ve done this as a twenty five minute add on to E6.

Favorite Quote: “Dear lord…I know we haven’t spoken in a while….thanks.” - Caleb

Also… (I’m paraphrasing her) “Did you hear about Arnold? What a piece of shit he is!!” - Abe

#turn: washington's spies #turn amc #caleb brewster #benjamin tallmadge #abe woodhull

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bloodiedlamb · 1 year

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𐬺 MADE OF STONE ➾ d. winchester

five years to the day. being clean is never an easy task, but there’s nothing scarier than a world full of uncertainty. 1.4k.

dean’s a recovering addict in this, no specific mention to his poison of choice but mentions of the addiction itself, dean’s also bipolar though that’s not super touched on, requited love but both of them think the other doesn’t want anything more. songs mentioned are by Mötorhead and Five Finger Death Punch, respectively.

God Was Never On Your Side blares throughout his end of the trailer park, the tune faintly reaching your own trailer when you step outside to smoke. It’s nearly two in the morning, and while most people can’t stand him or his nightly (manic) antics, nobody’s got the balls to tell him to turn it off.

It’s damn near seventy degrees tonight, and sweat clings to the bareness of your skin. The sun’s not out, of course, but if you closed your eyes you wouldn’t know that. The cut-off jean shorts you wore to town still hug your figure, though you’ve discarded the tight fitting t-shirt for a black tank-top, your feet resting in an old pair of tennis shoes you should’ve retired years ago.

The cigarette makes you feel better than usual, your eyes closing with each inhale and exhale, soaking in the euphoria of it. The park’s unusually quiet, being that it’s a Friday night and half of its inhabitants collect their rent money from Unemployment checks for various (bullshit) reasons.

The dainty cross dangling down your bare skin feels cooler than anything else could, your body burning a million degrees fahrenheit. You reach up, gently fiddling with it as you squint to see his trailer better. It looks like every light he has is on, half of his lamps pulled out onto the porch and angled in odd, unnatural positions to give him a better view under the hood of his Car. You chuckle at the sight.

And it’s like he feels it, or maybe he’s just curious about what your plans are on this fine night, because he turns to look over his shoulder, mimicking your squint.

All he can see is the dimly lit outline of your figure, arms crossed and resting on the railing of your wooden porch, the jagged oak prickling your skin. He can see the way you’re bent over comfortably, and the faint light at the end of your Marlboro, that glows and dims with each drag you take.

Winchester’s got a flashlight in his hand, one that he clicks at you twice— quickly— signaling something only you’d understand.

You smile at the sight. It takes a second before you begin the brief trek, your arms stretching above your head as the cigarette dangles from your lips dangerously.

The dirt road crunches softly under your shoes, your fingers adorned in cheap silver rings that scream, notice me, though you’d give anything to blend into the background nine times out of ten.

As the Mötorhead tune fades to black, it’s replaced by another familiar one — Wrong Side of Heaven.

“You’re goin’ all out tonight, aren’t you?” You raise a curious brow at him, finally able to get a good view of his set-up. He’s got a bar stool from his tiny kitchen perched next to the Impala, along with another lamp powered by a bright orange extension cord that’s got to be the length of his trailer. There’s a milk crate full of cassettes and next to it lies a half dozen empty bottles of beer, along with a half dozen unopened one. There’s one in his hand by the time you arrive, his skin blackened from the dense grease, his white wife-beater leaving nothing to the imagination.

“S’a Special day,” he shrugs, offering you a sip. It’s one that you take without a second thought, the liquid cold as it slides down your throat.

“Oh? Why’s that, D?”

“I’m a whole five years clean,” he says it like it’s nothing, and it hits you like a train that you didn’t remember.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, your face softening immediately as you move to wrap your arms around him.

Dean engulfs you, his arms tight and muscular against you as he breathes you in.

“I’m so fucking proud of you,” you whisper into his neck.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he nods at you gratefully as he pulls back. “Seriously. You’ve put my ass on the straight and narrow more times than I can count.”

“We’ll, what can I say? I guess I like having you around, Winchester,” you joke, but it’s one hundred percent true. You don’t know where you’d be if he never crash landed into your life.

“I knew you had a thing for me, Honey,” he winks, lightening the mood even more before nodding his head over to the bag of tools next to the Impala’s tire. “Now, you gonna help me out or you just gonna stand there and ogle?”

“I’m not ogling,” your face twists in sarcasm as you roll your eyes, kneeling in front of the bag, “Socket?”

“You know it,” Dean smiles at you, something full of emotion; love, happiness, fear.

He tries to hide it, you know, but you still see it. Fear lingers in the minds of those that have something to lose. It gnaws at the souls of those that have everything to lose. And he has everything to lose.

He’s got a home, and a shop, and he’s clean and finally got his G.E.D (also thanks to you), and all it would take is one single drop of that shit to send him back spiraling .

Dean doesn’t know where he would be without you because he can’t remember anything before you. And he doesn’t want to. He went from a child soldier raising a baby, to living on the streets, completely unwanted and unloved to one of the most recognizable people in town — in all the best ways possible.

DW Auto Repair volunteers at the local schools, teaching kids about hard work and the thing he loves most in life. He teaches interns about the value in creating your own family, and he’s living proof that you aren’t what you were, or where you came from; you’re where you’re going and what you choose to be.

“Ben comes home tomorrow,” he finally speaks after three and a half songs of silence. “For good this time.”

This time. You nearly cringe at the memory of last time, the explosion of anger, the screaming and crying and the sounds of sirens. That was six years ago. Dean Winchester was an entirely different person before he found himself.

He was mean and easily angered. He blew up and he destroyed everything in his path, with not a single fuck about who it hurt.

And he fucking hates himself for it.

“That’s exciting,” you smile softly, “I’m sure he misses you very much.”

“I don’t think he knows what to miss,” Dean trails off, his eyes glossing over. It’s that look that he gets before he slips away that makes you wish you could pull him back.

“You’re not that guy anymore, Dean.”

“Doesn’t matter, that’s all he knows me as,” he shrugs, cranking the wrench with a newfound purpose, the metallic clicks ringing through the dense air.

“Then we’ll just have to get him reacquainted.” It’s a hopeful thought, truly. You know better than anyone that new memories will never replace or erase the old ones. It may bury them for a time, but they’ll never go away.

“He’s sixteen, not six.”

“I’m not saying it won’t be hard,” you argue, “I’m just saying it’s not impossible, okay?”

“Yeah,” he nods, finally dropping the wrench to breathe. “What if he hates me?”

“He’s choosing to give you another chance, Dean, that’s got to count for something.”

“I just missed so much of his life.”

“I know,” you frown, “But that time’s gone and it’s not coming back, so you gotta live for the future. Just stop and breathe and don’t look back.”

He stands there, just looking at you with this look on his face that’s unreadable. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Dean,” you break eye contact with him first, your gaze darting down to his work boots, the fronts of them scuffed from usage.

He deflates at that, a bit, and it makes you wonder if the phrase suddenly has a new meaning to him. He’s told you he loves you a million and five times, and vice versa, but this is different. This is more.

“I’m gonna get some rest,” you clear your throat, hands shoved into the shallow pockets of your shorts, “You wanna take Benny to Waffle House in the morning?”

Dean blinks a few times before nodding, plastering a smile onto his face, “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“Goodnight, Winchester.”

“Goodnight.”

And though you hear the clicking of the wrench resume, you feel his eyes bore holes into your back the entire way home. Did he want something more? No way, right?

@porcelainmind

#💭 . dean winchester #📂 . files #dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic

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athetos · 2 years

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I’m on chapter 12-ish of Triangle Strategy and here are my thoughts:

Combat-wise, it’s more fun than fire emblem three houses. It requires more strategy, and positioning (even what direction you’re facing) is very important. The fact that there’s no auto-counter when an enemy engages you (outside of a couple characters with that passive skill) is also something that makes you cautious.

You can’t choose which class your characters are, but there is a skill tree that requires resources dropped from enemies (and can be grinded in free battles if necessary). I’m usually a big fan of “mold your characters however you want with jobs/classes” free reign but I think this system works incredibly well here. You can choose which characters to focus on strengthening, and which skills you want to boost in power, or what stats to upgrade. And you collect a good amount of characters along the way, so you have plenty of options. In addition to skills you unlock via level-up, you can equip 2 items too, so you can come up with some cool strategies. For example I Have Frederica with a skill to earn a TP (more on that later) every time she kills someone, and a ring that boosts her offensive capabilities per KO as well, making it even easier for her to kill more in the future - and she always has enough TP for a fire spell.

Speaking of, no character archetype feels more powerful than another! My faves are the magic-users, but there’s battles where you’ll want to have some of them sit out, and focus on brawny members or tanks. Each battle requires a lot of thought and consideration towards your roster. And of course, each character is significantly different from one another - they don’t feel like copy/pasted clones. Keeping with offensive magic-users, I so far have a fire sorceress, an ice caster, a mage who can use 4 elements + heal but master of none, and another mage who can use 2 elements, but also inflict weather effects that can turn the battle. It’s good variety.

You can’t change your weapons, or worry about them breaking. I’m actually a fan of breakable weapons, and having to be cautious, but I don’t miss it here. This system works well and allows you to focus on purchasing resources to upgrade said unbreakable weapons, or to heal status effects and health, etc

Your characters earn TP every turn and in special circumstances, which can be spent to use skills. I also really like this system, as you have to learn when to conserve points and when to spend them.

Outside of combat, the morality system here is leagues better than in most other games, for example shin megami tensei, where you’re often pushed towards a neutral route because the others are way too extreme. Here, the alignments aren’t law/neutral/chaos, but utility/morality/freedom. It’s a bit more philosophical, and often you won’t know which choice you make aligns with which stance.

Continuing on from that, the big decisions you make throughout the story can be tough! With one major exception in chapter 11, where I can’t fathom picking one option unless you were trying to get a specific route, each choice has pros and cons you have to weigh. Often I would pick one side then change my mind quickly after. These are decisions such as “what kingdom should we travel as ambassadors to”, in chapter 2, to “is it better to do something shady to guarantee an ally, or to try and expose them for illegal trading even if it means hurting our forces?”

But not so fast - you can’t just pick a choice and expect it to happen. You have to get the main cast to agree with you! Each character will have their own mind made up, and you’ll have to sway them to your side through dialogue choices. Then they all vote, and whichever choice gets the most votes is the path you take. So far, I’ve managed to persuade enough members to get the choices I wanted, but it still felt tense, so that’s the perfect balance for me.

The characters and the plot itself are surprisingly very engaging. I had some concerns I wouldn’t vibe with the cast as much based off of the demo but I really like all of them. There’s also little side stories you can unlock that show more details of their past, and most of them were pretty emotional. The plot itself is kind of your typical medieval fantasy political intrigue, but it’s well done, and I’m excited to see what happens next.

All in all, it’s a fantastic game and easy for me to recommend to anyone who loves strategy games, jrpgs in general, or just really wants more fire emblem and needs something new to tide them over until the next game drops.

#this got way longer than I intended man #triangle strategy #saving… do not turn off power

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spageddy · 9 months

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theory - diavolo is nightbringer??

this is mostly a joke but yeah. i’ve seen posts explaining why every side character could be nightbringer except diavolo so i am here to fill that void

disclaimer: i haven’t even finished the first game i’m stuck on lesson 27 cuz my cards are shit

nb spoilers ahead

ok so things that could make diavolo nightbringer:

1. he is old as hell and a demon which nightbringer is probably a demon. and old as hell

4. he is crazy overpowered like do we even know the extent of his powers.. he also controls when and how barbatos uses his time lord powers so he has those at his disposal too

2. has a UR card that’s about apple picking and apples are like the forbidden fruit or whatever, what if it was diavolo who gave adam and eve those shits and that’s why adam was stuck in the devildom for a while? if diavolo is nightbringer that explains how adam knows him, also maybe diavolo felt bad for him so that’s why he told him about the ring that could get his ass back to the celestial realm

6. diavolo and nightbringer’s goals are not necessarily in conflict. diavolo wants to build a better relationship between the three realms and nightbringer wants to bring night to the world whatever that means, probably has something to do with the devildom becoming more powerful than the other realms. maybe diavolo wants to become the ruler of all 3 realms so he can make sure things stay peaceful for everyone

73: one other thing nightbringer wants is for MC to be happy which diavolo also wants along with like the entire cast, however nightbringer doesn’t rly give us a choice in the matter and acts like he knows what’s best for us. diavolo is guilty of this sometimes too and can be pushy when he wants something because he thinks he knows what’s good for other people

94. i think diavolo has good intentions but he’s still a sussy baka just like nightbringer. can’t help being a scorpio.. sure he never lies but he’s still kinda shady sometimes. like the whole deal with raphael threatening war if the brothers don’t go back to the celestial realm. when diavolo agreed to let the brothers stay i was like ?? dude they’re gonna nuke everyone what is u doing. his decision only makes sense if he knew michael was just joshing all along (which he probably did because he can tell when people are lying). but in that case why would u go along with the bit like that when the stakes are so high and giving everyone anxiety? not funny babygirl

15. other sussy baka moments are his comments about destiny and shit, knowing full well he has a time butler who can manipulate the past and future to what he wants it to be (this power is probably limited like diavolo from jojo’s power but still crazy to believe in fate when u can literally choose it yourself)

i don’t think past!diavolo could be nightbringer but he might be aware of his other self’s intentions and that’s how he knows we have a connection and trusts us despite barely just meeting each other in this timeline

8. seems like a really long winded and unnecessarily complicated plan to make us go through 80 lessons then cancel that timeline and send us to the past but diavolo has been known to make some pretty big sacrifices for the sake of his goals. he sent us into the past before in lesson 16 where we died but one version of ourself survived so that apparently makes it all ok, also was going to kick us out of the devildom for the sake of his reputation, and some other stuff i forgor

anyway every other demon king has died in combat (with the celestial realm perchance?) so it makes sense that diavolo wants to do everything possible to save his own ass (and the entire world from getting destroyed by the celestial realm) even if it means some of his other selves get obliterated

or maybe none of this means anything and nightbringer is actually just maddi the witch or some shit. sorry for making diavolo sound like an ass i actually like him a lot i just like coming up with silly theories more and solmare’s bad writing makes it easy

#obey me nightbringer #diavolo

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gra-sonas · 2 years

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There’s a new trio of aliens in Roswell, and while we have no idea what they’re up to — including why two robbed a bank or why the sky has turned purple — this can’t be anything good.

Elsewhere in the Roswell, New Mexico Season 4 premiere, Max (Nathan Dean) planned to propose to Liz (Jeanine Mason), only for her to ask him to wait since she felt like the other shoe was about to drop (and then it did, crashing through the Crashdown sign behind them). Michael (Michael Vlamis) moved in with Alex (Tyler Blackburn) and panicked after he broke a childhood touchstone, but Alex assured him, “what I can’t live without is you.” Anatsa (Sibongile Mlambo) told Isobel (Lily Cowles) she loves her, and the other woman responded in kind and was about to tell her she’s an alien when the sky lit up. And Maria (Heather Hemmens) finished treatments from Kyle and Liz to slow her brain degeneration, but that may have led to her losing her powers.

Executive producer Chris Hollier teases what’s ahead and promise a “satisfying” series finale.

What exactly is this new triad up to? And how did you want to use them in contrast to Max, Isobel, and Michael?

Chris Hollier: We have essentially a good one, so what does it look like to have one that is not good, or at least starts off in that place? We wanted to give more aliens to a show about aliens. I can’t say what they’re up to because that’s part of the journey. By the end, they are going about the alighting so we’re going to lean in and start to define what that means, but this is Roswell, so we’re going to dip in to get to know — they’re not just a wall that moves in unison. They all have their own thoughts and wishes and good and bad parts, and so we’re going to dip into all of that.

What did you want to do with Max and Liz’s relationship this season? How much will that proposal come up?

We wanted to try to play what I think happens —it’s been a minute since I’ve been that age — in that age group about when that stuff starts to come up in your life: What does it mean to start to redefine yourself right along next to somebody? We use that as a jumping off point. I don’t know if anyone’s gonna be staring at a ring every episode, but I think that the metaphor of what that means will live, which is, “I have to understand myself better. I have to be better with myself so that I can be better for somebody else.”

Clearly Michael’s the more hesitant one when it comes to taking steps forward in his and Alex’s relationship. They’ve made it past one obstacle already in living together, with Michael’s nerves. What’s next?

We know now that these guys love each other and are committed to one another, and so we’re gonna give them an obstacle that doesn’t question whether they love each other, but just because you love somebody doesn’t mean that life stops throwing you obstacles. So we’re looking for new ways for them to face things together.

Isobel did tell Anatsa she loved her, but before she could tell her she’s an alien, all that happened in the sky. Is Isobel going to change her mind after that or keep trying?

That to me is the fun because saying “I love you” comes with, “OK, now I get to really show you how I’m broken and unique.” And so that’s the part we really wanted to dive into. We wanted to pull some Season 1 show ideas into this. This is a fresh couple for us to explore this territory, to see what this particular obstacle looks like through them.

Especially since we see how intrigued Anatsa is at the end there.

Exactly. They all really chose incorrect people to fall in love with, right? A scientist, a military person, and now a reporter. We found that amusing in the writers room.

But then there’s the Kyle (Michael Trevino)of it. What’s coming up for him and Isobel?

One of the nice discoveries of the last season was how much chemistry they have. That was the other thing, too, is we started to pair people off into couples. We still wanted longing. We still wanted choices to be made and people to fight for. And it’s not like Anatsa is a bad choice. She’s a great choice. So what happens when sometimes you have two great choices?

It doesn’t seem like Kyle’s having much luck with anything. Now, he’s throwing himself into his work…

No, but he has such great reactions when the world is breaking around him. He’s so much fun to write to, so we’re like, how can we deepen him? We are gonna deepen his side of things. We’re gonna dip into his family. We set the ending of Season 3 in Careyes, which is where his family’s from. So we have more Kyle’s stories to tell.

Is Maria losing her powers as a result of the treatment or is this just the beginning of some sort of evolution of them?

This is something that we want the audience to ask: how your environment affects you, what happens when you start to grow personally, and how do you let certain aspects of yourself define who you are? What are other versions of yourself with or without those pieces is where we started to explore for Maria. We felt like she embraced this gift she had, even though it came at a cost, so we wanted to play around with, what does it look like to take that superpower away from her? Will others emerge? Or does she need any at all to be a Maria that we love?

How does she handle that?

I think the group has come to lean on her and it’s one of the things that helped bonded her to family. To this family of aliens, she’s one foot in, one foot out, and she took steps to say, “No, I’m OK. I belong with this group here.” And so we wanted to at least test internally for her what that meant for her. “Am I still a part of that family? What does that mean for me?”

What’s going on with Maria’s love life?

Gregory’s (Tanner Novlan) just mentioned off screen. I love the actor that played Gregory. We had some difficulty getting him for some of our work early on, but that presented an interesting opportunity when we saw scenes that Maria’s playing with Dallas (Quentin Plair), we thought it’d be fun to see if we could start to get something going. I’m curious to see what people start to put on that, if they think they might be good for each other or not.

Talk about casting Shiri Appleby and deciding on her character [Liz’s mentor, Dr. Allie Meyers].

It was interesting. Shiri and I talked about it even before we put her in the end of Season 3. We had a little chat about who she might be and it bent and changed a little bit, but what we wanted to do was kind of honor what Shiri meant to the whole series, meaning her own as well. We’re here because of her and Jason [Behr, who appeared in Season 2 as Tripp Manes], and we wanted to fold that into our show, to let her live large over our show as well.

What can we expect from her character this season?

We introduced that she was a mentor, and so we wanted to explore, as you find yourself, how do you go and look for people to kick you to that next level? And so for us, we liked onscreen and offscreen what that meant with Shiri Appleby.

What can you say about Liz and Allie’s dynamic then?

I don’t know if I could because I feel I’d be taking something from the audience to give too much away.

This is the final season. Talk about wrapping up the series. How much closure will the finale offer?

It’ll feel first like it honors what the season is and I think addresses a couple things series-wise as well. We of course always have more — if they want to reboot next year, we’re ready. But it’ll be satisfying. They did give us a little heads up, so certain aspects of it that might have been more cliffhanger-y got wrapped up.

What else is coming up this season?

I’m curious to see what people say online what they think about our villains and who they think they are because on Roswell, I think the villains grow just as much as our heroes and if we really want to pair them off, they’re going to help each other ask questions and evolve, some for the better and some to a dark-ish place.

#chris hollier #rnm spoilers #roswell new mexico s4 #rnm cast interviews

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the-hero-of-jk-its-len · 2 years

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A Flower by Any other name. - Chapter Seven: To the dark, I said pour and forgot to say when.

A.N: At long last I bring forth the final chapter of this small but thoroughly loved series, to those who stuck around, thank you, and to those who came recently, Hi!

Reminder: Aster uses he/him pronouns!! You can exchange his name if you want and i won’t mind, and also Unbeta'd but only because I forgot to ask my one friend in the LOZ fandom to do it.

Disclaimer: I don’t own The legend of zelda (gods I wish), the linked universe au or any of the franchises and works I may reference in this fic, this is a work for fans by fans and all credits go to the respective owners.

Summary: The fall, the aftermath, and the fated Darkness.

Word Count: 2239

Warnings: Mentions of Death, Corpses, Sleeping potions, Alcohol and a lot of depressive thoughts.

There is something about battles that brings bells to mind, perhaps it’s the dead, or the memory of funerals ringing in my ears, there had been bells after all in my mother’s funeral, ringing to let the kingdom know The Queen was dead.

Somehow I doubt that’s quite it. While Link drags me through the battlegrounds, there is mud under our feet, red and murky not entirely wet from water, and there is sound, metal clashing against each other and beams being shot.

I see the fallen under me, around me, there’s too many to count or register, the emblem of Hyrule branded in their chests, and for every living knight and soldier the red mud has claimed another ten, we are losing, but I already knew that.

I knew from the second I saw the first beast fall.

I knew from the second we climbed up Lanaryu.

I knew all along, we never stood a chance.

Even now, I know that I couldn’t have changed it, nothing could, this was the fate of Hyrule, and I’m just the witness for it,

That doesn’t stop Link from taking a hit, and then a few more in my stead, from kneeling in the ground before passing out in my arms, the wretched machine glaring at us with a glowing eye.

Yet, when people speak of this battle, a year, a decade, or a century in the future, it is not the light of a guardian’s beam they tell tales about, but rather about the sudden flash of light that lit through the grounds, taking away the powers of the guardians and making the calamity recede if only by little, just enough that it clears the sky.

In the end, looking for the wounded to heal, and the killed for pyre, They find us again, the prince curled over a wounded knight, and the marks on their hands shining gold as we are separated.

Link is placed in the shrine that night, Purrah by my side and the Master Sword on my back.

Hope is buried, and we leave.

It takes little time after that, for proper arrangements to be made, with the calamity’s strength growing the choices to be made are few but heavy, yet, I have a last request to make before my knowing fate is decided.

I ask, and the forest answers, a path into the depths of it’s hold were even the calamity can’t enter, a path to the only place the sword could possibly be safe with no escorts by my side, no chatty scientists or silent knights, the only beside me are the koroks hiding in the trees, playing like the children they are as I walk through their home.

Putting the sword down is harder, I can touch it easily enough but it doesn’t feel right to do it, she seems reluctant even, had I been anyone else perhaps I would have thought that’s just my emotions playing with me, but I know better.

“I’m sorry” I murmur to the blade, hidden only by trees, yet being watched by one as we come closer to her place in the pedestal “he will come back one day, wait for him until then Fi, he might be a bit different but, it will still be him alright?” I buried her with no answer, I wasn’t expecting any, not really.

Looking up greets me only with the Deku Tree, not the one from the older games of course, but it’s still a comforting figure, one that looks at me with knowing sorrow in their eyes, perhaps it knows too much as well, because it reassures me with a nod before the Koroks come to guide me out.

If there was any doubt before there is none now, the sword will be safe here, and the koroks will watch out for it in my absence, in Link’s absence.

Days somehow, have become slower after my venture into the forest, less than a week from Link’s fall and already I can see myself falling apart by the seams.

I should be used to his absence already, yet I find myself looking behind me every so often expecting him to be there and it just isn’t.

Purrah has noticed, she and Impa are by my side more often than not nowadays, but it’s not the same, and they are not as close to me as they think they are, as close as they would have been to Zelda certainly, yet their comforting faces regardless.

In truth, I’m terrified, I’ve lost Link, and the castle, I’ve lost my garden and… Well, I’ve lost my life once already right? Once I would have wondered just how much I could lose after that, but I have an answer now don’t I?

It haunts me still, the thought of going into the castle, I can see it in my nightmares each night, the silence, the loneliness, the darkness, It’ll help the rest of the continent but I still find myself mourning by myself at night, others are too I’m sure but, they’ll be dead in a hundred years, it is no case to mourn them now.

Perhaps later, when I watch over the calamity and realize slowly just how long I’ve been there, until then, I’m content to just cry in my tent, surrounded by the smell of drying cherry blooms and ink.

I’ve made letters, written them out so that Link may have a bit more support, I can only hope the right people keep them safe until then.

In the meantime, I rest, and sleep, aware that my life sentence is only another night away from me.

“You seem distracted, your highness” a voice breaks me away from my thoughts, though I do not recognize them too well, “Is there anything we might be able to do to help?”

“No,” I find myself replying to the knight, wondering who exactly they were. I'd never learned their name, yet I saw their face every day for this whole month, how shameful “though I appreciate the concern sir…”

“Rozel, your highness” the young man answers, unconcerned by my previous lack of knowledge, just as cordial as he’d been before, still smiling as he eats supper.

“Sir Rozel then.” I nod at my words, he’d been kind, perhaps I’d visit his grave someday, morbid as those thoughts were.

And he looks happy enough at the recognition, leaving me with a half eaten bowl of stew on my own in front of the bonfire as if knowing I needed more time lost in myself.

In all honesty perhaps that’s the last I need, but it does make me look around, knights and map makers and readers are around us, the horses are grazing and I can even briefly see people joke around each other, but nerves are high, for every joke there is two sighs and soon the only way for this people to cope is to drink what few reserves we still had of ale, the night picks up in spirits like it’s all of these people’s last hurrah!

For some it’ll undoubtedly be, there monsters after all, stronger than any other and more bloodthirsty, but they dont drink to that, they drink to the fallen friends and family left behind in the castle and its surrounding town, after all, any and all soldiers here are willing ones, not chosen but rather left to the decision of whether or not to escort me to the castle.

But for now, they cheer and they drink and they sing, knowing tonight might just be the last of their lives and hoping Hylia may have enough mercy in her to let them go back, and I let them.

In time I leave them behind, a hooded figure behind me, she’s a messenger, and she’ll carry my words where I may not reach them, in the meantime she walks with me to my tent, waiting patiently as letters are retrieved and tied down in small parcels.

“Do they know?” she asks, settling the parcels in a bag, she’s looking at the knights, the light of the fire reflected in their faces.

I have no need to answer, but I do, knowing at least someone has to, “no, may their dreams be blessed by Hylia the sleeping potion will keep them at peace until I’m too far for them to follow.”

And she nods, pleased at the answer even as she looks sadly towards me, “I shall be back for them then? To… guide them back.” to take them home goes unsaid, home doesn’t exist for them anymore, but her meaning stays back.

“Thank you.” I tell her in answer, I feel guilty in full truth, because, come morning, these soldiers will have failed their mission thoroughly as I walk into the castle alone, my horse ready to go at any second now as I see some of the more drunken knights fall asleep in their friend’s arms.

She leaves then, a specter of darkness in the night only lit by the light of the moon, and though she is Sheikah we are unlikely to meet again.

And in the night, long after everyone else has gone to be I sit by the fire, a still unfinished bowl of stew by my side that is poured into the fire to turn it’s flame down as I fall into step with my horse.

And there, about to walk forwards into fate I can’t help to say into the air.

“Link’s was a lot better…”

For the first time in days, there is silence, but only here, and only now as I stare at the entrance of the castle.

There is light around me, I did not call it to me but it does it’s job either way keeping me safe as I take my first step inside, I am alone now, my horse was sent back to camp almost an hour ago and It’s just me left.

And it’s strange, to walk around halls once so full of people and cheer, now silent, there are no corpses, which I find myself thankful for and horridly sad about, but there are no ghosts either, other than that of my father which I can feel the gaze of in my back, as if begging me to turn back and run.

We both know I won’t as I walk further in, the call of the darkness pulling me step by step to its core, it reminds me a bit in a way of a funeral, or a wedding, walking down a bright red carpet to the center of the castle and then up, up, up.

Stairs feel eternal, the ache burning into my legs, and the halls extend beyond my sight even as I walk them from memory.

But even this doesn’t last long enough to feel forever, my path ends here, in the doors of the highest room of the castle, with only the shine of divine power to set me apart from the darkness of the place as I walk down, a burning white triforce mark on the back of my hand to hold against the emerging beast before me, trying to fight me as I reach against it, him.

It can’t touch me it realizes, but I can touch it, as it runs away from the divine power in my hands and screeches in pain as both of our forms disappear amongst a flash of divine light that dwarfs the one seen in the battle scene.

And there I feel it more than see it, the last sunrise before my eyes are taken by darkness, great and mighty and lonely.

Cold where the sun would have been warm, but contained, my hold on it great even as my hands have become nonexistent, the calamity is here with me too, a barely humanoid ghost of what was once a man chained up by my side, slack as the chains of light that hold him there fail to illuminate anything else.

And outside, beyond the castle doors and waking to the light of the sun a camp wakes, to notice the prince is gone, and the light in the distance of Hyrule castle tells them why even as they sorrowfully pick each other up and pack back, a messenger in the Prince’s horse guiding them back to worried scholars and researchers.

But Hyrule is safe, the words of the people say, “Hyrule is safe” echoes through Hylian children and then spreads to Zora and Rito, from them it expands, travelers tell the Gerudo and miners pat the backs of Goron.

And there is peace, there is joy and there are parties around the continent, there is mourning and celebration, words of praise told to the sky and statues built as fast as they can to honor Hylia and her last living descendant, because at last, and for another hundred years people can freely look to their neighbors and are able to say,

“Hyrule is free”.

And somewhere in a castle, deep amongst darkness a prince sighs feeling the light of Link’s soul burst back to life even as he sleeps, “well then, I suppose we’ll have to wait.” he mutters into the darkness, seeing his enemy stir in his chains as his power extends to make it lie back down in it’s hold. “Just a few hundred years now, not long at all.”

#🖋️ the len writes #a flower by any other name #isekai #breath of the wild au #eventual linked universe #link x ftm reader #link x reader #link x transmasc reader #loz fic

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