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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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All This Hassle, and What For?

Pairing | Loki Laufeyson x reader

Summary | getting taken hostage, along with Loki, is far more amusing than ever intended to be, despite it leaving your captors anything but impressed.

Warnings | kidnapping, mentions of depression, swearing, implied smut, innuendos

Based off this tiktok. All original rights to the plot go back to the creator.

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Opening your aching eyes, you found yourself to be in a large room, there were plenty of feet stood at your eye level, and such a sight made you frown. You certainly didn’t remember being knocked out, but who would, the exposure to unconsciousness was most likely sudden.

But nevertheless, you raised your head, glaring up at those whom had captured you. As your eyes scoured the room, your eyes landed promptly on the god of mischief, who had his hands bound and shackled in chains, and by Odin, did he look good.

However, your attraction the man who once reigned terror down upon New York wasn’t the focus now, and so you licked your lips, and kicked the nearest guard in the leg. He stumbled, the noise loud enough to draw the attention of all others, and you were pleased to stifle a laugh. Loki frowned at your behaviour, knowing that this was not the way that you were trained to be an avenger, but it was clear that you were no longer on earth, so human pleasantries did not apply here.

“And by the gods, who in the galactic council’s name do you think you are?” The closest asked, wrapping his large hand through your hair, and tugging your face up to stare up at him, wanting you to be treated as the lesser being he thought you as.

“Actually, he’s the god.” Tilting your head, you diverted it towards Loki, who squinted feebly at your answer. “But I think you already knew that, since you have him rattled in metal. Just a word of advice, rumour has it that he likes to be restrained in such ways; really, you’re doing him a favour, and you may just earn yourself a big tip.”

You sent a wink up at the commander, watching with inward joy as he grimaced at your development within your speech. “Quite a nice sight, to see him so vulnerable and at someone’s mercy, so thank you general.”

Sending him a smile, he huffed, whilst Loki tried his darnedest to contain an amused grin. It wouldn’t be the first occasion that you had made suggestions regarding the new troop of the avengers; even when he was around causing mischief, (which he still tended to do), there were always words said that gained the god’s intrigue.

Tony at the time, and to this day, despite him being a part of the heroic team, which Thor was ‘inclined’ to drag him into, thought nothing more than disgust at your meaningful jokes. In his words, ‘you two may as well screw so we don’t have to listen to anymore of this dirty banter, you in regards to reindeer games’.

How you wished right now, preached silently even, that Tony could bare to listen again, so that he could send in the team whom could deal with these aliens that were keeping your imprisoned. But all communications were cut, and that just left you and Loki.

By no means did you doubt if Loki got the chance to escape, he would leave you. It was in his nature to do so, but if you could pose a lack of threat, they may loosen up on their efficiency in guarding you. After all, Loki was the one they wanted, not you. And then, both of you could get away from this galactic nonsense.

“Humans.” The general huffed, causing you to grimace as the stench of his breath wafted through the air, and hit your nose. “You all think that you are so special, but when it comes down to it, those who are not from your planet do not care. Loki here, this god, does not care about you little one. And he never will.”

“That’s okay with me, because I don’t care about him either. It’d called self preservation.” You informed your captor, noticing Loki staring across at you with an icy gaze. Who were you kidding? Of course you cared about the god, but right now, you would do anything to get out of this predicament.

“Aw would you look at that.” The feet moved back towards the main reward of their capture, staring down at the green eyed trickster with mocking eyes. “This woman has attitude just like yours, if either of you cared, I’d call it a match made in Asgard.” A laugh bellowed from the wide chest of the being, finding his own comedy quite humorous.

“Excuse me, I’m way out of his league!” You pretended to be offended, bringing your hands that were free of restraint to your chest. They thought not to tie you down as they did to him, after all, you were nothing but a midguardian. That was their mistake. “What’d you want with old horse shagger over there anyways? Don’t be alarmed, but he actually does some kind of good now, even if it be out of his own self interest.”

A heavy sigh fell on deaf ears, as the protector of space glanced unsurely between the pair of you. “He has the tesseract, and I wish to take it from his slippery hands, he cannot be trusted with such a powerful source of energy.” His words bellowed a laugh of absolute surprise from your mouth, earning a frown from those keeping you hear, and a cock of the head from the god of mischief.

It was clear that not only was he confused by your supple, yet somewhat pleasant burst of amusement, but he was also in the dark about what in the Hela this predominant being was speaking of. Yes, he had had the tesseract at one point , however, no longer was it in his untrustworthy grasp.

Thanos had taken ownership over it, after killing many of the people that he had saved from the events of Ragnarok. It was not just some energy source, it had been an infinity stone all along, tricking the eyes of elders and the young to believe that it was nothing more than a harbouring of power. But it had indeed been the space stone, and it was taken from him, in exchange for saving Thor’s life.

The Guardians of the Galaxy had found the pair of them upon the aftermath of the wreckage, taking them in, amongst plans of taking Thanos down. It had been a failure, up until the avengers went back in time, going to their past that would not affect their future, so that they could reverse the affects the Titan had brought upon earth and everywhere else.

During that time, Loki had nurtured his brother, watching as he fell apart with the responsibility of their people, and collapsed into a spiral of depression. You had also been there for Thor, doing your best to take the drink away from the bulky god, but to no avail did you manage to succeed. And so, during those tormenting five years, you and Loki would sit side by side, both basking silently in your failures.

“I thought you guys’d know everything, but I guess that you and your highness are stuck in one time line; all of them. But for us humans and every lesser being, there are multiple, and that Loki that stole the tesseract, yet I say again, is one much different. And we are on the search for him, to stop his disruption and crossing over of the times!” An exonerated, and audible exhale of air left you after your little speech.

Loki smirked, at the premise of you protecting him with the admission of the truth. But he couldn’t help but feel a feeling of warmth flutter within his immortal insides, it was rather a nice feeling he realised. “He is quite difficult to catch, we have been tracking him since the time heist went sideways.”

“That’s because he’s you!” You pointedly exclaimed, unable to pin some of the blame upon the god himself. Sure, in recent times he had changed, and was much different from back when he wanted all mortals to kneel before him (which you’d willingly do if it ever came to that, though you’d never tell him under which circumstances that would be), but at the end of the day, that had been him once!

The tricks and the lies still remained, but he had found a reason to thrive, and a long and enduring career that he was well at tackling. Often, he made out being an avenger, despite the government’s rouse of concern, to be a bore, and that he had far better things to do. But he stayed, with a light in his eyes, and continued following along with the heroic traditions, breaking a few rules here and there.

“Dear, why do you always have to put the blame upon me? I was not the one who decided to put that green dye within your shampoo, but I’ll have to admit, did you look so enrapturing.” He was running a ploy, dragging out the time that you spent bantering in hopes of something happening.

Unlike Heimdall, he did not have foresight, but it was a requirement whilst the pair of you were on your expediting mission, that you check in with the base, via the comms that had cracked under brutal feet. And so, he spoke, with the promise that you’d return the conversation and leave all others in the room confused with your meaningless discussion.

“I did, didn’t I?” You asked, to which he hummed in reply, lightly nodding his head, as his feline eyes ran up your body, paying ample attention to how your limbs were free, unlike his own. “But I’d say fine sir, that the blame is down to Clint, and if I’m correct, may we kick his ass as soon as we get back home?”

“Of course we can my beloved-“ you froze at his choice of words, and it appears that he did too, suddenly realising his mistake. Gulping for a second he went to speak again, but the commander felt much inclined to but in, and stop the headache that was bubbling in his large head.

“Shut up; the pair of you!” His scolding made you feel as though you were in school over again, it was impossible not to drop your head down and try to contain your laughter. Loki too found such enjoyment in this predicament, sporting a cheshire grin to emit his emotions.

“I’m sorry, can you say that again? Maybe a just a tad louder?” You pinched your thumb and forefinger together to show how much, and it was clear that you were pissing this primal being off. He began towards you, and you were prepared to fight him, you were never one to back down, which was one feature upon the various reasons that Fury had initially recruited you.

Awaiting the first strike, you stood despite the others around you, your eyes wide open as you bravely stared up at your opponent. But before the fight could begin, a distant crash assumed preference in your ears, causing you to turn your head in the direction it had came from. And then, all of a sudden, a ship crashed through the dock, guns blazing from its side.

“What are you waiting for?” The distinct voice of Rocket asked, and obediently you ran through the terror, finding Loki already upon the ship, but then, he appeared behind you also. “Quill, get ready to go!”

Taking glances, you stared between the two practically identical copies, a light frown on your face. Both were restrained, yet the one that was seated beside Groot, whom was playing a game on some nineties device, was glaring up at the pair of you.

“An avenger, really?” The seated one laughed, mocking his once future self, as you felt the ship steer clear away from the scene. Your Loki quirked his brow, smirking at his self that had avoided the wars that he had chosen to fight upon earth.

“Yes, an avenger.” He responded, causing his other to languidly scoff. An ‘I am groot’ came from the tree, and it was uncertain in your spoken languages of what he had said, but either way, you were more intrigued by the conversation that was happening between the Loki’s. “And I’ll have you know, that she is infinitely more brave than you, you cower-some fool.”

“Oh, so we’re going there?” You asked, causing the pair to snap out of their mutual rivalry, and stare haphazardly at you. “No, don’t mind me, feel free to continue.”

“We’re not going to be unable to unbind your until we reach earth.” Gamora cut in, speaking to the Loki that you knew to be the original.

“That’s fine.” He nodded humbly, before casting his attention back at his alternate reflection. “And this woman, is not only an avenger. She was there for your brother when you were not.”

“Aw.” The other Loki smirked, almost cruelly. “So she’s your beloved?” He remarked rudely, and it seemed to break something within Loki, him wishing not to listen to the other version of himself. He decided he did not like him, and understand how you must have felt upon your initial meeting.

“Yes.” You went to speak, but instead, Loki stood before you, powerlessly pulling your face to his own, and colliding his lips upon yours. On impulse, you ravenously replied with much affection, clasping his jaw and allowing him entrance into your mouth. It earned a disgusted groan out of the Loki that had caused all this hassle.

“I hate to interrupt...” Rocket returned, after putting his gun down and having gone to the front of the ship with Quill, so that he could contact Stark. “But these may get those off.” He held a pair of golden pliers, that were far larger than his body. At the sight , you pulled away from Loki’s face for a moment, raising a brow.

“It’s fine, I think I want to keep them on.” You smirked, earning another sound of disapproval from Loki’s identical rival, pulling him back to your face. Wildly, he hummed into the cavern of your mouth, as the pair of you stumbled around on the spaceship.

“Bedrooms are down the hall to the right.” Nebula informed you, her voice monotone, and in turn, you dragged the god towards said direction, finally releasing all the tension that had been pent up through the years.

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@nickkie1129

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agentrouka-blog · 3 years

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As much as I see Jonsa with huge potential, I don't think we might expect a fluffy ending with kids and ruling together. Grrm is certainly not a nihilist but his writing is still more grimdark than other fantasy authors .

We don't know how much interactions they are going to have in future books and it also depends how soon Sansa leaves the Vale. Grrm has said her arc will take differently in the books. Now whether he means her TWOW arc parallels her S6 plot except the Ramsay marriage or more and more of Vale political intrigue . What are your thoughts on how different her TWOW plot would be to S6 ?

The foreshadowing is over the charts but I fear Grrm has stalled it too late for it to be the central romance of the books and to take it from subtext to action.

Hello!

You don’t need to agree with me. I’m content to be an optimist by myself in my little jonsa corner over here. The couches are soft and inviting, and the drinks cool and fruity. :)

Seriously, I am not confident for the fun of it. I fully acknowledge that I might turn out to be wrong, but my reading of the books is that their relationship will be plot-relevant, that the reward inherent in their romance is one of the points of the book series. It’s the concept of human life wrestling itself back from the edge, not because people swing magic swords around, but because they make lots of small, hard decisions, because they keep faith in compassion and options beyond darkness. Because they want the good things to exist and they create them. (Like the Heddles.)

Jon falling asleep over ledgers with his food congealing on a plate beside him because he’s working so hard to somehow make the Watch survive? Grumpily trying to find the least horrible option for spreading the wildlings around the abandoned castles, in ways that protect women and children? Sitting down with a banker to negotiate a loan until they are both just exhausted? That there is the heroic work that will be rewarded.

Sansa finding moments to show compassion and even bravery, when there is nothing in it for herself? Saving Dontos, stopping Joffrey from riding down a mother with her dead baby, trying to comfort Lollys, warning Margaery of Joffrey, singing “Gentle Mother, font of mercy” in a moment of abject danger, and overcoming her irritation with Sweetrobin to try and raise him to be brave and strong? Those are all life-affirming choices. They depict an attitude to life that is crystalized in Sansa building Winterfell from snow. It’s a determination to create and to go on, past pain and anger.

There is not just survival, there is beauty and joy after survival, if you do the hard work and strive to create it. That is the point of jonsa. That there is a reward in going on, and a reward in trying. Because most of the time? There is.

It’s the option that is opposite of dragons and revenge and fiery destruction, opposite of ice and the cessation of all life.

This idea that GRRM is going for something grimdark has been driving many fandom theories, but somehow the completely logical sequence of events of “create dragons through murder” to “create epic dragon destruction and perish for it” came as a surprise, because... it’s not grimdark. It’s fully ethically coherent. It is simple. It is downright inevitable once you take off the grimdark goggles.

I don’t think Sansa’s arc will differ that widely from her show arc, except none of that “growth by assault” stuff. Her growth comes from watching and learning, as she has been doing all this time. She’ll head North, reunite with Jon and be part of Northern succession drama (including Rickon) in a way that ends with the Starks back in Winterfell, Jonsa established as a deep and relevant bond, Sansa actively exercising power, and lots more drama on the horizon.

There is nothing to be gained from a prolonged Vale arc. It was always going to happen off-page (5-year-gap) or be speeded up like it is now. It was never going to be a second King’s Landing for Sansa. Everyone is at the maximum extension of their diaspora rubber band, they are all poised to be drawn back together sooner rather than later. Training montages end, the real work awaits.

The foreshadowing was not for nothing, it was for setting up what is going to happen now.

#asoiaf #jonsa #grrm #asoiaf is not grimdark #it never was

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discoscoob · 3 years

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"What Loki got wrong – and Doctor Who got right Redeeming a villainous character isn’t easy but the Disney Plus series could pick up a few tips from the BBC’s flagship series.

We all love Loki – the God of Mischief, Lord of Chaos, a wannabe tyrant and murderer with a twinkle in his eye and a spring in his step. So where on Earth (or rather, in the multiverse) did he go during his eponymous Disney Plus series? When Loki was first proposed, I was intrigued to see a Marvel spin-off that focused on an amoral, self-serving character. But over the course of its six episodes, we saw Tom Hiddleston abruptly deliver a reverse heel-turn, transforming a character that had always skirted in grey areas of villainy into a fairly bland, heroic type who just wanted to save the universe.In the final episode, Loki was offered the chance at universal war and chaos, a throne or a quiet home life in the background. The mind boggles that someone who tried to rule the planet just a few weeks before and apparently revelled in disorder would so quickly plump for the third option, no matter how nice his new friends were. .Maybe Loki needs more ‘good’ characters to bounce off for him to play the fun bad boy, as he had in the Thor movies. Maybe creating a Marvel series with a morally ambiguous lead, à la Rick and Morty, was never on the cards. But there was a way that Loki could have redeemed its central character without completely compromising what made him interesting in the first place. In fact, it’s been done before in a different series.A few times over the course of Loki, viewers had compared it to Doctor Who, mainly because of its general time-travel premise (what are the officious TVA except Time Lords with a dental plan?) and especially after episode three saw Loki and Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino) trapped on a dying world. In fact, many commented that Loki did ‘Doctor Who’ better than Doctor Who itself, thanks to a higher budget and bigger stars. (Though did Loki have a sonic screwdriver? I think not. Case closed.)And I actually think Loki could learn something from Doctor Who, more specifically, from a storyline that saw an iconic villain try to change their ways with Cast your mind back to 2017 and Peter Capaldi’s final series as the Twelfth Doctor. A major throughline of those episodes was the Doctor’s attempt to redeem his old nemesis The Master, then played by Michelle Gomez as Missy. Initially reluctant (and not before a few final backstabs), Missy did end up playing the hero, only to be cut down by an alternate version of herself (AKA her predecessor in the regenerating role, John Simm) before she could reveal to the Doctor that she’d finally come over to his side.Crucially, during this process Missy was often as unpleasant, irascible and darkly funny as she’d ever been at her most villainous, regularly still insulting and belittling the Doctor and his friends even as she did gain more empathy and something of a moral code. She didn’t just completely gain a new personality, in other words, and the story was more moving and believable as a result.Of course, Loki is changed by what happens to him over the course of his series – the “journey” he goes on, as Jonathan Majors’ He Who Remains puts it, is needed to put him in the position where he’s willing to take over the TVA himself. But what we see him go through on screen doesn’t feel like enough to justify such a change in the character – or why the show would choose to make him so much less entertaining.If Loki had always been how he appeared in the finale, he wouldn’t have lasted as long as he has in the MCU, let alone get his own spin-off. Make Loki fun again! It probably doesn’t help that we’ve seen an onscreen version of Loki’s journey already which did a better job, with the ‘older’/original Loki’s arc in 2017 Marvel movie Thor: Ragnarok making a much better case for his gradual turn from self-interest to semi-heroism, though still with a trademark blend of arrogance and style (including bellowing “Your saviour is here!” as he rescued the people of Asgard).Maybe it helps that, in that film, he plays second fiddle to Chris Hemsworth’s Thor. Maybe Missy’s story only worked in Doctor Who because she wasn’t the main character, and similarly had the good

Doctor to bounce off (though if someone does want to make a Missy TV show, I’m in).Whatever the reasoning, something still feels a little off about this newly heroic Loki variant. Time for, if not a pruning, then at least a bit of a redirection if season two is going to find its glorious purpose"

reading this article rolling my eyes first off Missy went by a different name, also was not really a redemption of the master but that version of the master e.g missy which still don't know where this version is suppose to happen cause imo missy was the master but unlike the master had more redemptive qualities, wanting to be the doctors friend again/wanting to change but never getting the chance/past version didn't want to change, while this version feels like always on a path of redemption to the be killed off and the master comes back still evil, most likely missy version of the master will never be mentioned again/ never see this version again. also have they watched the Loki show, he literally learns he dies in the future, his stuck in a unfamiliar place by a very powerful organisation, also his self serving persona has always been a façade mostly, people can suddenly want to change which imo Loki hasn't really wanted to as Thor as pointed out about him going round in circles and him never seem to want to change in Ragnarok he was still not really change even though he shown he can be a better person, he also betrayed thor show still self serving. but Loki in the series makes sense his perception would change, his lost him home, his free will, Thor, learns he died/dies, and can't back to his timeline, but find it unbelieveable that Loki whole attitude would change... i think people need to pay more attention/don't really understand Loki, also he is still fun 3 episodes in just because his not acting like a clown and shown to be vulnerable and shown be more genuine and wanting be a hero doesn't mean they completely stripped his personality, hopefully we see his fun personality back next series. the reason he lasted in MCU so long is not just because his fun etc but because his a complex character, if i remember correct his fun personality didn't really come out until the dark world and then ragonorak in Thor he was angry and bitter and avengers was angry and bitter and wanting to rule earth. also we saw his fun personality up until episode 3 as slowly began to stop clowning around and become more genuine through Sylvie, also good friends didn't just change Loki, it was already in there it was a journey he always destined to go down as saw in the films which now some what reset in the series for another journey but thing is Mobius and Sylvie not just better Loki but his also bettered Mobius and Sylvie, also makes sense he change his self serving behaviour as learns even gets the throne or what he thought was his glory purpose he still not be truly happy, just like Sylvie and just like Mobius at The TVA. i feel some just don't really go into who Loki character is or just like his boring now if his not there being smug or clown or him finally actually being genuine = bad telling of redemption ok *rolls eyes*

I 100% agree! Reading that made me roll my eyes too, until I got to your part of the anon, that was a relief to read.

#loki #loki series

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nellie-elizabeth · 3 years

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The Falcon and the Winter Soldier: New World Order (1x01)

Watching this show is going to be strange for me because I genuinely ship Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson with one Steve Rogers... so basically I just want to watch them sitting around being sad about him being dead the whole time. But I'm open to the possibilities, here, I really am...

Cons:

Positioning the bad guys here as... well, as communists who want a world without borders, and then making them into terrorists... let's just say I'm side-eying this pretty hard. You have that twist at the end, where the United States brings forth a new symbolic hero, a new Captain America, and my brain immediately started spinning forward as to where this is going to go. See, we've got anarchist baddies who want to destroy all the flags on one side, then we've got this pretender to the throne on the other side. But the issue won't be that there's something inherently flawed with the whole concept of a militarized heroic folk legend for Americans to idealize... it'll be about how it's the wrong man carrying the shield. At some point, in a moment of triumph, Sam will take the mantle on for himself, and then we can safely and comfortably cheer as our hero takes down the big bad commies who don't love 'Murica enough. I want to be wrong. I want them to mix things up, to challenge things, but all I can see is that the ultimate heroic conclusion is going to be "government control of Captain America is Bad, but Captain America himself, and what he stands for, specifically America, is good."

While I know this episode needed to set up a lot of puzzle pieces, I did think there were moments of somewhat clumsy exposition with both Bucky and Sam's story-lines. We've got Sam who's worried about his sister and her kids losing the family home and boat, and going to get a loan. There were some good moments in here, but it was a bit paint-by-numbers, and some of the dialogue fell into that "as you know..." trap where characters were having a conversation, then needed to stop and tell us it's a conversation they've already had a million times before. They're having the talk for our benefit as the audience only. That's a tough needle to thread, and they didn't quite thread it. The same thing happens during Bucky's therapy appointment. First off, the whole waking up out of a dream thing, cut to a therapist talking about nightmares... another cliché. And then we have the therapist walking him through the three steps, and restating them for the benefit of the audience, even though in the ordinary course they wouldn't lay it all out like that again, since Bucky would already know. It's a small thing, I'm nitpicking, but there were some rough aspects to the start of the show.

Pros:

First off, let's just acknowledge that the show looks great. That whole opening action scene with Sam rescuing the guy, flying around, helicopters blowing up, the base jumping tech... damn. It felt like I could be watching an action sequence on the big screen, in any standard MCU movie. Maybe not the climactic fight, but one of the shorter, introductory ones for sure. And that's what this was, wasn't it? A strong, exciting, high-energy start to the show.

I really love Sam Wilson, y'all. There's something so incredibly powerful about watching a show like this with a black man in the leading role. He's such a good person, he's charming and funny and bad-ass but compassionate. He's a little cocky but nowhere approaching an asshole about his power and fame. He's stubborn but that just shows that he really cares. The movies don't have a ton of screen-time with Sam, if we're being honest, but I already really liked him, and here I'm seeing the chance to flesh out the details and let Anthony Mackie do his thing on the silver screen. It's all really working for me so far.

I like the side characters we're folding in here - his sister seems like an interesting character with a lot to offer, and I love that Sam has these nephews in his life to care for, something to anchor him to the world in a way that Bucky, who I'll talk about in a second, kind of doesn't. It provides a nice contrast between them. I also really liked Torres, the man who helps teach Sam about the Flag Smashers (ugh, that name) and seems like a solid dude who wants to make a positive difference in the world. I hope we see more of him too.

(Also, while I'm sure Rhodey was just a brief appearance in this first episode, it was so good to see him too! I'll miss him in the MCU, if he doesn't keep popping up.)

The last thing I'll mention on Sam's side of the story is that bank loan scene. It was such a punch in the gut to see Sam denied the loan, and one of the reasons being "you don't have any income for the past five years." Well... Sam didn't exist. He got Thanos snapped. This feels so realistic to me, that the system would not pivot to adapt to the new situation, but instead leave more and more people out in the cold. Then you have the bank employee trying to get selfies with the Falcon, all excited to meet an Avenger, all while denying him and his family the money they needed to make ends meet. It was such a devastating scene, and you could see so much hope draining out of Sam's eyes. I'm anxious to see where this goes.

And then you've got Bucky Barnes... let me just say, that despite the fact that he's a super assassin, whenever I see Bucky on the screen I just want to wrap him in a blanket and protect him from all harm. When I saw how Sebastian Stan was debuting on the show, in a flashback to his Winter Solider evil days, I literally said out loud, "oh no, poor Bucky" as if I wasn't watching him murder a bunch of people in cold blood. I have such an intense desire for him to be okay, so seeing him not being okay, but trying in these small ways to atone for his past actions, makes me so proud of him already.

Despite my undying belief that Bucky Barnes is deeply in love with Steve Rogers and that nobody will ever take Steve's place in his heart... I thought the date scene was actually very cute. The flowers, the board game, just chilling in the restaurant... I don't know. I hope that woman is in the show moving forward. I want Bucky to be happy. I want him to make new friends, forge connections in the world. I also really liked the stuff with Yuri, and when the reveal happened about Bucky having killed his son, it was a severe punch to the gut. Maybe I was supposed to have guessed it before the show told me, but I didn't, and when I realized why Bucky had befriended this old grumpy man... oh god. It's all too tragic.

On the one hand, it makes me a little nervous that there are only six episodes in this season, and in the first one we didn't even see Sam and Bucky interact. On the other hand, it's a pretty smart move to keep us waiting, at least a little, for the duo to emerge and develop a rapport. I can't wait for the fun banter, as I think Sam and Bucky are both funny, snarky people albeit with different attitudes and ways of expressing said snark. And I also can't wait for some more serious content between them, as they ruminate on all they've lost in the wars they've fought, on how hard it is to be suddenly missing five years of your life... and on Steve Rogers, a great friend (*ahem* boyfriend *ahem*) that they've both recently lost.

They're also holding back on Sam taking up the mantle of Captain America. I wonder if that will be a point of contention between Bucky and Sam. Bucky was there, Bucky gave his blessing, honestly, when Steve handed over the shield, and it was the only thing about Steve's ending in Endgame that didn't make me insanely furious. I want this to be a point of conflict with them, I want them to argue about the best way to honor Steve. So much juicy material here! And I'm intrigued by this "new Captain America" concept, even though I'm wary about where they're taking it, in terms of theme... we shall have to see!

All in all, this was very standard Marvel fare. I like the characters, the action is creative and enjoyable to watch, there are some emotional gut-punches and some funny lines here and there. Nothing mind-blowing, nothing so innovative and fresh and new, but just more of the same... a same that I've come to really love over the past decade or so.

8/10

#review #falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier review #fatws #fatws review #the falcon and the winter soldier

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imaginesofeverykind · 4 years

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Oh Partner, My Partner || Chloe Frazer x Elena Fisher

[literally the only gif i could find with the two of them together omfg — yall i wish these two had more scenes together]

This took so LONG because I had no idea how to write these two best gals without them just trauma bonding over how much of a shit Nathan is lmaooooo I might have to do a part 2 idkkk man 👀👀

Request: Hello! I just saw your post about fanfic requests. Can you write something for chloe x elena (as a ship) from uncharted? Please. Thank you!

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: None ! Just a bitta flirting

“Step on it! We got Company!”

Everything was a complete blur, happening in rapid succession that it was nearly impossible to process. Elena Fisher had partaken in her fair share of shoot outs, some incredibly similar to the current situation she was in, the difference now was merely semantics.

She barrelled down the narrow walkway, ancient ruins encompassing the way out in a claustrophobic manner. If the circumstances didn’t call for panic and nimble feet, she’d take a moment to admire yet another long lost civilisation in her wake.

Gunshots echoed through as the army-for-hire attempted to hit the two figures, the two barely managing to exit the choke point and out into the open.

Elena took a moment to catch her breath, lamenting on the fact she could never simply get a story nowadays without being shot at. Her eyes trailed over to her partner — who was equally out of breath, however urged her to press onward.

“C’mon, take one of their trucks, we’ll be lucky if we hit the nearest town before they tail us.” Chloe Frazer motioned for her companion to follow, as unlikely as the pairing had been, the two women found each other’s company much more bearable than initially expected.

Of course, it wasn’t without needing something the other had. Elena had been stumped just days prior at the prospect of losing a big story after her source had been unceremoniously blown up — quite literally. It just so happened that the bar she weighed out her options had also been the same bar the familiar Australian woman had been on the lookout for her next big break.

The two hijacked one of the unmanned vehicles, tearing up some of the lush terrain as they made their quick escape. Both looking back with wide smiles at the near death experience turn successful lift and having enough proof to run a highly intriguing article.

“I can’t believe we did that!” Elena laughed out loud, her heart still thundering in her chest while the adrenaline surged through her. Her hands gripped the edge of her seat as she beamed at her companion, who was rather proud of the work they completed today.

Chloe weaved the truck in and out of major obstacles, having some indication where they needed to go in order to get to town, “we make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

The blonde was taken aback by the compliment, a light blush painting her cheeks as she flustered to find an answer. In the short few years she’d known Chloe, it was clear that the Australian was hard to impress, rarely allowing anyone in too close. To hear her point it out was an honour.

“Y-yeah… I think we did great.” Elena beamed, her eyes lingering over her partner a little too long.

“I knew I liked you for a reason,” Chloe raised her brow, her eyes trailing back and forth from watching the road to her passenger.

It was a miracle they managed to both make it out alive and managed to get enough evidence for the journalist, unlike other times which resulted into her having to sacrifice her story just to make it out alive.

This time was different, and both of them were aware of that major difference; No Nathan Drake. As much as they equally admired and appreciated his heroic efforts, they couldn’t deny the fact he was quite literally the worst treasure hunter. Somehow, someway always finding the ability to blow up his latest find in some spectacular feat.

Without him in the picture, it was unexpectedly easy to pull off the job.

In the several days finding the next lead, following the trail of some illicit blackmarket group, Elena saw a side to Chloe she was quite happy to see. That sentiment also applied for the Australian, no longer believing the outspoken journalist was as bothersome in her regard.

The two had driven for the most part of two hours, ditching the truck somewhere ambiguous while they trekked the rest of the way into town. The dark haired woman praying that their plane ride out of the secluded outback town was still available, wanting to get the hell out of dodge as soon as possible.

With the harsh summer sun beating down on them, the trek felt much longer than it actually was, the American completely out of her comfort zone as she watched in envy at her companion who was seemingly unbothered by the heat. Elena fanned her face with one hand and held up the other to alleviate the glare from the sun, cursing herself for not thinking to bring sunglasses — of all things.

Chloe looked back in amusement, finding it funny that her partner was sweltering in the blistering heat, “bit hot, love?” The facetious tone not at all deterring the glare she got in response, merely laughing more as she wipes away the sweat beading on her neck.

She pointed lazily ahead, “town’s not too far away — won’t melt on me, will you?”

Elena squinted at her, only because she was so conveniently placed right by the sun, “y’know what, I just might.” She panted, taking a short breather.

The local stifled a laugh, “c’mon hot stuff, that article of yours won’t write itself,” she strode ahead, not particularly overthinking her comment coupled as she could just spot the town ahead.

“Here I was thinkin’ I’d catch a break from the shameless flirting… must be a common trait among thieves.” Elena was smug, catching up with her strides as she walked in sync with Chloe. The statement was purely a soft jab at the way people in this specific profession tend to talk to one another.

“Oh — was I not being clear enough?” Chloe retorted, an equally as complacent smirk on her face, even more so upon noticing the flustered look on the blonde's face, “I’ll be more obvious next time, love.”

It was hard to determine whether or not she was being sarcastic, her accent lent little to the imagination with the monotonous drawl, but her sultry tone of voice often always contradicted the accent. As someone who knew her relatively well, how she spoke to other people and carried herself; Elena was still confused.

Maybe the flirty comments were always so obvious when she was directing them elsewhere, then again, Elena was sure that it was simply a shared trait among the many within this business.

Truth be told, the only other person who had attempted to charm her was Nathan, and his measly endeavors were so blatantly obvious it was borderline cringeworthy. She could barely count Harry Flynn as an eligible contender considering he tried to blow the lot of them up.

She wasn’t sure why she was so stuck in her thoughts about it, she was an adult after all and didn’t need to overthink every single remark made her way. Yet here she was, the familiar feeling bubbling up inside her all the while her partner walked in a proud strut.

“I’m sorry — are you joking? I - I really can’t tell if you’re pulling my leg.” Elena eventually spoke out, deciding that the adult approach was the best way to feed into Chloe’s zero bullshit, blunt attitude. She was well aware now wasn’t the time to be having a conversation like this, and typically she’d be happy to let the comments fly by with having a witty retort. This time felt more urgent, like she needed to know before proceeding further.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Chloe winked, jogging up ahead as they entered into the small isolated town. Elena laughed to herself, finding a sense of relief fill her from that sufficient answer. If she was being completely honest, she hadn’t met anyone quite like Chloe before but she had an alluring aura, even when she was being unlikeable; one couldn’t help but be drawn to her. Elena was no exception.

Nevermind that the pair of them looked like they actively fought some of the native wildlife, the two of them disregarding odd looks thrown their way as they casually strolled down the main street.

The local ushered her companion into a dingy old pub that definitely looked like it wasn’t up to code — if that even existed this far in isolation. The town itself was home to one grocery store, two pubs, an abysmal excuse for a doctors office and one lousy looking police station that sat surrounded by approximately twenty-six houses.

Inside the pub was not much different than outside; muggy with a thick musk scent that mixed with the aroma of sweat from the patrons. Elena must have pulled a face subconsciously, earning a chuckle from her partner as she guided her through the building, “mining towns aren’t all they chalk up to be, aye? Poor bastards leave their families for months at a time to live in luxury at a shit hole like this.”

“Yeah — I guess you could say that…” Elena nervously laughed, not a big fan of the way the workers were eyeing them suspiciously. She wasn’t quite sure if they were looking at them because they were quite clearly outsiders, or for some other reason.

“Stop your worryin’, love — you got me to protect you.” Chloe flashed her a smile, opening the backdoor to the sweet sight of their getaway plane. The makeshift airport was barely manned, only passing the odd pilot or two on their way to greet their pilot.

Elena looked around cautiously, knowing that typically this was the part of the job where they get ambushed; then again, they had pulled this job off without the antagonising presence of Nathan Drake, so the likelihood of something like that happening was incredibly low. It wasn’t his fault he had an undeniable knack for pissing off the ‘bad guys’ effortlessly.

Seeing that she wasn’t in the conversation, Chloe reached over to her and softly grabbed Elena’s hand, “Tommo’s ‘bout ready to leave, you still with us?”

The blonde snapped out of her preemptive panic, giving her partners hand a squeeze as she nods, “only if you’ll have me.”

“I think I’ll keep you around a bit longer.”

#uncharted #request #imagines #one shots #chloe frazer #elena fisher #chloe x elena #imagine #uncharted imagines #uncharted ships #uncharted imagine

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mikauzoran · 4 years

Text

LuXY/Lukadrien/Lukadrienette: Welcome to La-La Land: Chapter Two

@luxyweek

Welcome to La-La Land: Chapter Two: Heroics

Things got weirder.

The party was scheduled to go until three in the morning, so Bob Roth had booked rooms at Le Grand Paris for those in attendance so that they didn’t have to drive themselves home or find taxis or worry about public transportation shutting down for the night.

At two o’clock, Luka dragged himself out of the ballroom and up to the fifth floor to room five-seventeen, swiping his keycard and practically stumbling in.

He’d had too much to drink, and he was already regretting it.

The lights were on, saving Luka the trouble of having to fumble about in the dark to find the switch. He made his way down the short entrance hall with one hand skimming along the wall for support. He passed the bathroom and went out into the main area where he found XY lounging on the far bed in his boxers and a bathrobe.

Luka paused, evaluating the situation, wondering exactly how drunk he was to be having this hallucination. He decided that he was, in fact, not that drunk, so that had to be the real XY in his actual boxers on a bed that did, in reality, exist.

XY smiled and waved. “Hey.”

“I am so sorry I must have the wrong room,” Luka spit out in one breath, not leaving space for punctuation, as he turned on his heel and marched out.

Once safely in the hall, Luka looked down at his keycard. The little paper holder distinctly had the numbers five, one, and seven written on it.

He looked up at the plaque on the door and found that it also read five-seventeen.

Come to think of it, the keycard had worked when he’d scanned it.

Luka gave the door a perfunctory knock and waited a moment in case XY actually wanted to tie his bathrobe closed before Luka entered the room once more, announcing, “Actually, it seems like I don’t have the wrong room. Do you have the wrong room?”

XY had not bothered with modesty and was still posed on the bed, bathrobe hanging open. “Nope. Five-seventeen. I’m where I’m supposed to be. I bet they double booked, thinking that not everyone from the party would use their room. My dad’s thrifty like that.”

Luka pursed his lips. “Oh. Okay. I guess…I’ll go down to the front desk and explain the situation?”

He really didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to drag his carcass down to the lobby, wait for them to assign him a new room, and then trudge his way there. He wanted to collapse onto the soft, comfy bed next to the one which XY was currently occupying and fall asleep.

“Or we could just share,” XY suggested pragmatically. “I mean, there are two beds, and you look wiped, Dude.”

Luka took a very short second to consider this proposition. “If you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine with me,” XY assured. “There’s another bathrobe in the bathroom, if you want to get out of those clothes. Leather pants don’t look like they’d be comfortable to sleep in.”

“Trust me, they’re not,” Luka snorted, turning around and heading for the bathroom off of the entrance hall. “I’ll wash up real quick, and then I’ll be unconscious and out of your hair.”

“Take your time,” XY urged, enjoying the view of Luka’s backside as he trudged off.

Luka came out about ten minutes later in a bathrobe, his clothes folded neatly and tucked under his arm.

“I’ve never seen you without makeup before,” XY noted, intently taking in Luka’s features.

Luka hummed noncommittally, setting his clothes down on the dresser before making his way over to the spare bed.

“You’re still hot,” XY reported matter-of-factly.

Luka paused in the act of turning down the covers.

He hadn’t said it in a flirty or suggestive way. It was more like XY was just making a conversational statement than hitting on Luka, but Luka couldn’t help but think of the way XY had been flirting with him earlier.

Unless Luka had been completely wrong about XY’s motives for waxing poetic about how insanely gorgeous Luka’s eyes were.

“Thanks,” Luka replied politely, deciding that he was too tired to deal with this, so he simply wasn’t going to.

He got into bed and curled up on his side, back to XY and the light affixed to the ceiling in the center of the room.

“So…do you, like…have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?” XY tentatively ventured. “I mean, are you seeing someone?”

Luka couldn’t decide if this was an awkward attempt at getting to know Luka or an awkward attempt at flirting with Luka. He wasn’t really sure which he preferred at two in the morning after three glasses of champagne and two glasses of whiskey. His alcohol tolerance was down, and he was too exhausted to figure the situation out.

“I’m not seeing anyone exclusively,” Luka allowed.

“But…you’re with that Adrien guy?” XY verified, fishing.

“We sometimes have threesomes together.”

It felt freeing to finally say it aloud. For so long it had felt like a dirty secret he had to keep locked inside, unable to acknowledge. Sometimes he woke up in the arms of the two people he loved most in the world…and then he had to go home to his own life while they went back to theirs. It was like a cloud of smoke, slipping between his fingers and disappearing before he could grasp it.

“And…who’s your third?” XY wondered, morbidly curious.

“Adrien’s wife.”

“Oh,” XY whispered, mentally piecing together the puzzle that was Luka. “But…you’re not exclusive? Like, they don’t mind if you sleep with other people?”

Luka snickered bitterly. “I’ll put it this way: they’d be jealous and hurt if I saw other people, but it’s not like they have any right to stop me. They are the ones who’re married. I’m just a fun addition sometimes. I don’t have to be faithful to them. What about you? Seeing anybody?”

Luka didn’t really want to be having this conversation. He wasn’t terribly interested in XY’s love life, but he felt like, if he had to answer these questions, it was only fair that he submitted XY to them as well.

“Nah,” XY sighed. “I’m not seeing anybody…unless my dad really does set up a publicity stunt and make me date that Poppy girl. It’s kind of hard to meet people you’re actually interested in when you’re famous.”

Luka considered this statement. Luka had been famous for the past five years, and, during that time, he had found it difficult to find a romantic partner not interested in him for his fame or money. Luckily, Luka had known plenty of regular people back when he was just a regular person, so, when he wanted to try to date (during the periods when he was actively deluding himself about being able to make a break from his feelings for Adrien and Marinette and have a fulfilling relationship with someone who wasn’t them), he had options.

Xavier-Yves Roth had been famous since his early teens, and, even before that, he’d been his father’s son, exposed to the limelight secondhand. Had XY ever had the chance to meet regular people and experience a normal relationship?

“But…So, you like both guys and girls?” XY prompted.

“Yeah,” Luka answered softly, wondering why he was letting XY in like this.

XY pursed his lips and continued to press, “Do you like either better?”

Luka snorted. “Honestly, Adrien and Marinette are pretty much the only two people in the world to me in that respect, and I love them both equally. Differently, but equally. I don’t really have a male/female preference. You?”

He expected XY to snort and laugh and swear up and down that he was one hundred percent male, so of course he liked women because that was probably the toxic masculinity and homophobic attitude that his father had filled his head with.

He was very, very surprised when XY answered quietly, “I kinda like guys better.”

Luka blinked and sat up in bed to turn to look at XY incredulously. “But…at events, I only ever see you with girls.”

XY shrugged. “Dad thinks it’s better for my image if I date girls. That way, girl fans will think about what it’s like to be with me while guy fans think about what it’s like to be me. Gay people are in the minority, so it’s more popular to be straight and market to straight people.”

Luka’s list of reasons to loath Bob Roth just kept growing and growing.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. But…what about what you want?”

“Well…” XY replied thoughtfully. “I want my stuff to sell because my music’s good now, so it would super suck if people didn’t hear it, but, especially lately, I kind of want you too, so…”

XY shrugged.

Luka stared at his roommate, trying to rehear the words that had just come out of XY’s mouth so that he could attempt to make sense of them.

“You…You want me?” Luka choked in an odd mixture of terror, delight, aversion, and intrigue.

XY nodded eagerly. “Yeah. So…what do ya think? Do you wanna get drunk and have sex?”

Luka’s eyes widened as a figurative bucket of icy water was thrown upon him. “What do people usually do when you ask them that?” he couldn’t help but wonder.

XY just shrugged, unwilling to admit that Luka was the only person he’d ever asked. “Or we could just have sex, if you don’t want to get drunk. I brought some really legit tequila from Mexico, though, so you’ll be missing out.”

Luka considered for a moment whether or not XY would understand the term “demisexual” or if that would only lead to unnecessarily complicated misunderstandings and stupid malapropisms that Luka wasn’t really in the mood for at two AM.

Luka cut to the chase: “I’m really flattered that you would ask, but I only sleep with people I’m in love with.”

XY stared at Luka intently for a minute. “Okay. Challenge accepted.”

Luka’s head tipped to the side as he leaned forward and frowned. “Wait. What?”

XY steamrolled right ahead: “So, if you don’t want to have sex, do you want to maybe make out and snuggle?”

He looked at Luka expectantly, a hopeful eagerness in his eyes.

“Have you ever kissed a guy before?” Luka had to wonder.

A pouty expression came to XY’s face, suggesting that he was not happy to be found out. Regardless, he shook his head in answer.

Luka took a deep breath, realizing that this was XY experimenting with his sexuality and trying to understand himself and find out what made him happy, irrespective of what his father told him he had to do.

That left Luka feeling a little stuck. It would be kind of crumby of Luka to shut the guy down after he’d opened up to Luka and shown vulnerability. Something told Luka that, even though XY had seemingly come a long way since the last time their paths had crossed, the guy didn’t regularly show weakness or vulnerability to anyone. What if Luka said no and XY never opened up to anyone again and ended up alone forever because Luka was feeling tired and a little too drunk to be making these decisions.

A voice in the back of his mind told him that he sounded like Marinette with all of his what ifs, but…

Suddenly, he remembered a night on The Liberty, sitting on the couch with sixteen-year-old Adrien in the early hours of the morning, snuggling and watching…Luka couldn’t even remember what anime it had been now.

Adrien looking up through drooping eyelids, asking in a scared, bare voice, “May I kiss you?”

After that, Luka had vowed never to be anyone’s sexuality experiment ever again, but…

“…Okay,” he decided.

XY’s face blazed with excitement. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Luka confirmed, kicking off the sheets and making his way over to XY’s bed to sink down on top of the covers.

“Killer!” XY cheered.

“Shot of tequila first, please,” Luka requested. “Then making out. Then snuggling. Clothes stay on.”

XY nodded enthusiastically, going to fetch the bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Sounds dope.”

XY filled both of their glasses and then handed one to Luka, careful as he climbed back up onto the bed.

“Cheers.” Luka raised his glass, and XY clinked his own against it before they both downed their shots.

Depositing the glasses on the nightstand, Luka looked back to XY.

XY studied Luka expectantly, nervously.

Luka reached out slowly, gently taking XY by the jaw and pulling him in for a soft, closed-mouthed kiss.

XY quickly got the idea, and their lips began to move together, the kiss deepening fast.

All things considered, XY wasn’t a bad kisser. A little too eager at times, a little too excitable, but that was okay because Luka could tell that this kiss meant so much more to XY than to Luka. After all, hadn’t Luka been a little overeager the first time he had kissed a boy?

After a few minutes, Luka carefully maneuvered so that, without breaking the kiss, he could lie down, carefully guiding XY down after him so that XY would be on top and not feel trapped or overwhelmed if he decided he wanted to stop.

In the back of Luka’s mind, a voice that sounded like Adrien asked, “Yeah, but what if you decide that you want to stop?”

Strangely enough, Luka didn’t.

Fifteen minutes in, it was actually shaping up to be a pretty good kiss. Luka could feel the alcohol blurring his mind again, making him forget the messy state his love life was in at the moment and allowing him to just enjoy the sensation of someone’s tongue down his throat.

Gradually, the pace slowed, winding down as XY settled in beside Luka, snuggling up and pressing gentle kisses to Luka’s cheek, chin, neck, shoulder.

“How was that?” XY asked nervously even as he tried to keep up a confident façade. “That was pretty ballin’, right? Hella sick, yeah?”

“That was good, yeah,” Luka confirmed. “A good kiss.”

“I thought I’d be good at it,” XY preened. “I’m pretty dope myself.”

Luka stilled. “…Was that…your first kiss ever?”

“Yeah,” XY replied a tad defensively. “Why?”

“I just thought that you’d have kissed girls before, so…I’m a little surprised. It’s not bad or anything, though, that that was your first kiss,” Luka rushed to assure.

XY shrugged, snuggling in closer and nuzzling Luka’s hair. “I’ve just never been interested in kissing any of the girls my dad had me date.”

A stray thought crossed Luka’s mind: “Maybe he’s demi too”.

That didn’t explain him wanting to sleep with Luka so soon, but…

“Why don’t Adrien and Marinette keep you around permanently?”

The question caught Luka off guard, leaving him taken aback.

“I mean, you’re really dope,” XY explained in a logical, reasonable fashion. “And you obviously love them. Do they not love you?”

He didn’t mean it cruelly, but it still hurt.

The pleasant buzz of the tequila instantly drained from Luka’s system. “They do,” he replied, voice cracking. He swallowed and tried again. “They do love me. It’s just…Adrien and Marinette are a complete universe unto themselves.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They don’t love me as much as they love one another, so sometimes I feel like I don’t fit with them, like there’s not enough space for me even though…”

XY lifted his head to gaze questioningly down at Luka. “Even though…?”

Luka sighed, pushing himself up and sliding out of bed. He went over to the dresser where he’d left his clothes and dug out his wallet, bringing it back to the bed. He fished out a photo and handed it to XY, setting the wallet down on the nightstand and slipping back under the covers.

“That’s Marinette and Adrien’s son,” Luka explained with a sigh.

XY studied the picture of a beautiful young woman and handsome young man holding between them a toddler with lovely black hair and clear blue eyes.

It could just be that the boy resembled his mother, but…XY knew those blue eyes too well to mistake them. He’d been seeing those same eyes in his dreams since the day Luka had stopped in the hallway of the television studio to give XY a speech that changed his life.

“He looks just like you,” XY muttered reverently.

Luka’s lips pulled into a sad smile. “His name is Hugo. I see him fairly often, at least once a week unless I’m out of town touring. I babysit a lot, but it’s not the same as really being a part of his everyday life…of their everyday life.”

“You’re not happy just being in a part-time relationship,” XY surmised softly.

Luka nodded, gently taking back the picture and carefully replacing it in his wallet. “They love me, but I’m not number one to either of them. Most of the time, it’s fine. What I have is enough because it is love, and we are a family, and I am happy, I really am. Sometimes, though…I want to pound my head against a wall because it’s not enough.”

“You deserve to be somebody’s number one,” XY whispered soothingly, as if validating Luka’s frustration and hurt and emptiness.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” Luka laughed ironically.

“You’re a little drunk and sad,” XY explained so that Luka didn’t have to.

“Yeah,” Luka sighed. “Yeah, I am.”

XY lowered his lips to Luka’s for a languid, lingering kiss, and Luka didn’t protest, letting it happen.

He decided not to worry about it or judge his behavior. After all, didn’t everyone, at some point, get sad and lonely and end up making out with someone they barely knew just to get a taste of human warmth and intimacy?

It was just kissing, and Luka could do a heck of a lot worse for a partner.

Luka stirred several times during the short night, and each time he briefly thought that he was at Marinette and Adrien’s. Each time after he remembered, he wondered, “What the hell am I doing?” and contemplated getting up and going to sleep in the other bed. Each time, he ultimately decided against it and snuggled in closer to XY, letting himself enjoy the feeling of another person’s presence as he shut his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

At a little after half past nine, Luka woke with a throbbing headache, and the sunlight streaming in through the window would not allow him to get back to sleep.

If the sound of running water in the bathroom was anything to go by, XY was in the shower.

Luka contemplated his next move.

On the one hand, he kind of wanted to slink out and never see XY again because Luka had been a little drunk, and he vaguely remembered talking about Marinette and Adrien and Hugo, and that was never a good thing when Luka was in one of his melancholy moods (which had definitely been the case the previous night).

On the other hand, he also kind of recollected XY admitting that he had never kissed a guy before, never kissed anyone before, and even though the blonde was kind of dumb and seemingly indifferent about most things, Luka was betting that XY was experiencing some sort of feelings about the make out session and snuggling. It would be a jerk move for Luka to just run out after that.

With a sigh and some effort, he leveraged himself out of bed and onto his feet, grabbing the notepad and pen from the bedside table to write a quick note: “Sorry I had to dash. It was nice talking with you. I’ll call you soon about the collab.”

That accomplished, he put the note underneath XY’s phone so that it visibly stuck out but wasn’t in danger of being blown away.

He dressed in the clothes he’d worn the night before, made sure he had his wallet and his phone, and headed out.

He dropped the keycard in the return box next to the elevator and strode through the lobby of Le Grand Paris toward the front doors, coming to a halt as he noticed the flock of reporters buzzing about the entrance like a murder of crows, hoping to snap photos of celebrities from the party the night before taking the walk of shame.

Luka really didn’t want to go out there. He was hung over, tussled, and not in the mood for anyone to ask about his supposed affair with Adrien Agreste-Dupain-Cheng. He was kind of afraid of them asking with whom he’d spent the night at the hotel, afraid of them accusing him of cheating on Adrien on top of being a homewrecker.

He decided to wait it out a bit in the sitting area, hoping the crowd would thin and he’d be able to make his escape unmolested. He waited fifteen minutes, but the mob showed no signs of dispersing.

“Oh, hey! I’m glad I caught you,” XY called out, hustling over to Luka. He looked slightly out of breath, a little flustered.

“Oh, hey,” Luka greeted, feeling awkward. “Sorry for running off. I have a meeting this afternoon that I really wanted to get some things done before, so I was hurrying home, but there’s kind of a herd of reporters out front, so…”

Luka looked hopefully towards the entrance only to have the optimism kicked out of him when it appeared that the pack had only grown.

“I was hoping they’d go away if I waited them out a bit,” Luka sighed.

XY frowned in confusion. “Why don’t you just go the back way?”

Luka blinked dumbly. “Back way?”

“Yeah. Come on. I’ll show you.” XY motioned for Luka to follow as he headed back to the elevators and pushed the down button. “Tell your car to pull into that alley behind the hotel.”

“Uh…” Luka bit his lip. “I don’t have a car. But it’s fine; I’ll just get a taxi.”

XY clicked his tongue. “Dude. Don’t you have money now? I thought you weren’t poor anymore.”

Luka’s brow creased slightly in annoyance at the resurgence of a flash of the old XY. “Just because I have money doesn’t mean I spend it recklessly. Normally, I drive a motorcycle, but last night I got a cab to drop me off.”

XY shrugged, completely missing Luka’s defensive tone. “Meh. No sweat. You can just borrow one of mine.”

Before Luka could protest, XY pulled out his phone and shot off a text. “My driver will be there in, like, two minutes. Pretty dope, huh? I’ve got three drivers,” he boasted.

Luka was not impressed. Maybe it was the hangover, but XY was starting to rub Luka the wrong way again…except…he was being rather nice, showing Luka the way out and getting Luka a ride…even if he did it so obnoxiously.

XY started to prattle on about his miniature fleet of cars, and Luka sort of tuned out, mostly missing the substance of what XY was saying but still nodding along to the words and adding “oh, really?”s and “wow”s in the pauses. That seemed to satisfy XY.

Thankfully, they reached the back door in under ten minutes, and the car was ready and waiting to take Luka home.

It was then that he felt a little bad for being so short with XY. The guy really had done him a favour…and was a good kisser.

“Here we are. George will make sure you get home.” XY motioned to the car as if he were unveiling…well…a car, but as if he were on a game show or something.

“Thank you,” Luka replied with genuine gratitude. “I appreciate it. You really saved the day.”

“All in a day’s work, Citizen,” XY assured as he flexed comically, showing off his muscles in a cartoonish way that made Luka wonder whether or not XY were serious.

Luka gave a soft chuckle, thinking, “What a dork. At least he’s cute.”

The thought kind of caught him by surprise.

XY’s expression transitioned into what could probably qualify as serious for him as he turned back to Luka, asking hopefully, “I’ll see you again soon, yeah?”

Luka was a little taken aback by XY’s sincerity. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll give your music a listen and call you about a collab. For sure.”

XY’s face exploded into a firework of joy.

“Rad!” he cheered, leaning in and planting a sloppy kiss on Luka’s cheek. “I’m super stoked!”

Luka could only nod and wave as he went over to the car, climbing into the backseat in a daze as he tried to sort out what exactly was happening in his life.

In his distracted state, he accidentally gave the driver the address of The Liberty instead of the flat he lived in half of the time.

He didn’t stress about it. He had bigger issues to deal with.

#LuXY #luxyweek2k20 #Lukadrien #Lukadrienette #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #ML #Luka Couffaine/XY Roth #Luka Couffaine #XY #Xavier-Yves Roth #Mikau's Writings #Welcome to La-La Land

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 5 years

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Psycho Analysis: Mysterio

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

In one of the greatest twists in all of cinematic history, it turns out that Mysterio, the man who in the comics is one of Spider-Man’s most iconic foes and who was heavily hyped by marketing as TOTALLY a good guy, is in actuality… a villain. Bet you didn’t see that one coming!

I think the real twist is that, despite how obvious the twist is and despite how much they change going into this character, they really managed to make him one of the most enjoyable antagonists in all of the MCU. And trust me, the fact that he is yet another villain that Tony Stark inadvertently helped create is a big hurdle to overcome, not to mention Beck is coming right on the heels of one of the MCU’s greatest villain so far, Thanos. But somehow Quentin Beck manages to not only be great, but a villain who takes the cake as one of the most terrifically amoral douchebags in all of cinematic history.

Actor: Jake Gyllenhaal plays Mysterio, and while it is literally impossible to make this man ugly like his comic counterpart, they not only managed to give a good reason why Quentin Beck should be sexy but they gave it to the perfect actor for the role. Gyllenhaal manages to sell Beck as a charming and likable fellow, a “cool uncle” figure to Peter as he has been described, to the point where the inevitable reveal that he’s just a scumbag who is lying out his ass about everything sting all the more even though it is so obviously coming. And when Beck’s true nature is revealed, Gyllenhaal manages to use that natural charm Beck seems to exude to make him at once completely hilarious with how he treats everything his team does as a primadonna actor would as well as utterly terrifying with his extremely blasé attitude towards killing children, treating it less like a contemptible crime and more like an annoying speedbump in his career he’d really rather not do. Gyllenhaal absolutely nails it, and while this Beck may not be in the film business like in the comics, he still manages to be one Hell of an actor.

Motivation/Goals: As it turns out, Beck was the guy who made B.A.R.F. If you don’t remember what that is, don’t worry; the movie gives a flashback to the scene where Tony debuts it in Civil War. Beck was fired by Stark for being too dangerous and unstable, and giving his hard work a stupid acronym was the last straw for Beck, who proceeded to round up disgruntled Stark employees to utilize illusion technology, drones, costumes, and special effects to essentially do what Syndrome wanted to do in The Incredibles: create fake world-threatening problems that he could solve with ease to make himself out to be a hero, all the while causing untold amounts of death and destruction in an attempt to make things realistic. You know, just like how a totally normal, mentally stable person would do it. This might actually be the one time where Tony made a good call in firing someone and it still somehow comes back to bite the people he cares about in the ass.

Personality: Quentin Beck, when acting as a hero, exudes the sort of charm and charisma one would expect of a hero, though occasional hints at his ego and lack of modesty do pop up; however, all of that is subdued by the general air of cool, friendly affability he exudes. He’s a kind mentor to Peter, giving him good advice, and in general seems to be a genuinely good guy…

...But obviously it’s all an act. Beck is very much an egomaniacal sociopath who has no care for anyone, not even his own henchmen; he threatens them after a screwup, though it is a bit justified seeing as how they were brushing off something that would blow their ruse wide open. Just as Beck revels in being a hero, he too revels in his villainy, as one can see during the scene where he gleefully breaks Peter’s mind with a series of traumatizing hallucinations. While he does give some indication he wished he could just have let Peter go, his behavior indicates that unlike someone like Vulture, all of this is just him never turning off that surface-level charm he puts up. He’s absolutely not sorry he has to kill Peter, he’s gonna have fun doing it, but he has to at least put forth that token “I really wish he didn’t have to do this” as if for the sake of some unknown viewer he wants to convince of his nobility even as he tries to brutally murder high school students.

Final Fate: Beck is apparently shot by one of the drones under his command, and dies shortly after Peter manages to break through his illusions… or is he? Considering this is Mysterio we’re talking about, and considering the mid-credits scene, there is a high chance that Beck faked his own death and used one last illusion to escape from under Spidey’s nose. But for now, we can only assume he’s dead. I’m definitely updating this if he comes back, trust me on that.

Best Scene: The scene in Berlin where Beck subjects Peter to a series of illusions that look like something ripped straight out of a comic book, or even a Scarecrow sequence from Arkham Asylum. It’s filled with utterly nightmarish imagery, tons of fakeouts, lots of references to the Spider-Man mythos, and even a few allusions to Mysterio’s video game appearances. In a film where Mysterio has no end of fine moments, this is easily his finest.

Best Quote: Beck has so many great lines that really ring with truth nowadays about people and their desire to believe even the most blatant of lies just so they can have something to believe in. But his greatest quote is perhaps when he weaponises that, with a little bit of edited footage he sends to a seedy, sensationalist news site called The Daily Bugle…

“I managed to send the Elemental back into the dimensional rift but I don't think I'm gonna make it off this bridge alive. Spider-Man attacked me for some reason. He has an army of weaponized drones, Stark technology. He's saying he's the only one who's gonna be the new Iron Man, no one else. Spider-Man's real... Spider-Man's real name is - Spider-Man's name is Peter Parker!”

And with this doctored footage, broadcast live on the news for all to see, Mysterio cements himself as one of the most absolutely scummy pricks in the entirety of the MCU, second only to Ego in sociopathic kick-the-dog cruelty.

Final Thoughts & Score: I just want you all to know that Mysterio is my absolute favorite comic book villain; I love his costume, his concept, that time he fought Daredevil, his gimmick… Mysterio is a villain who is a lot of fun but who rarely is handled well by comic writers, never getting to truly show off the full extent of his greatness. As you can imagine, this meant my expectations going into Far From Home were pretty high… and they were blown out of the water. Mysterio is just that good.

It helps that the MCU really managed to utilize the sort of paranoia and distorting of the truth a guy like Mysterio can bring to the table to its fullest extent. It’s to the point where, yeah, it’s easy to believe that he survived his supposed death; he’s shown us so many other moments where it has seem The day is saved prior that turned out to be BS, why should this be any different? Then there’s the fact that Gyllenhaal is able to fully sell this super-cliched bargain bin hero fantasy involving dimensional travel and world-ending elemental monsters, complete with wooden acting, cliché one liners, and an oh-so-obviously manufactured heroic sacrifice and make it cool in universe and out, that it all goes above and beyond to not only wash the bad taste of him being another villain Tony created out of your mouth, but also the sheer clunkiness of his expository bar scene where he literally explains everyone's role in the Mysterio ruse for the benefit of the audience and seemingly no one else in what might be one of the most awkwardly done scenes I have ever scene. He is so legitimately good that he somehow manages to walk away as a 10/10 villain despite being in a scene that bad.

I think what really makes him work is how psychological he is. Obviously, he has no real powers beyond a dedicated special effects team backing him up, and yet he still manages to be a serious obstacle to overcome by just how good he is at utilizing the illsuions he can create to mentally torment Spider-Man. He taunts him over Iron Man’s death, he plays on his fears of not being able to save MJ, he pretends to be trusted authority figures to trick him into endagering his loved ones... he just goes all out and really delivers a different kind of villain, one who poses a far more intriguing threat than simply a physical one and forces Peter to grow as a person and come to terms with himself in order to beat him.

When I compared him to Syndrome earlier, it really was more than just in terms of his plan; he’s equal to Syndrome in terms of quality as well, and portrayed by an actor who is able to inject just as much charm and personality into the role. And much like Syndrome, by the end of the movie you will think Quentin Beck is one of the must insufferably smug, sociopathic, and scummy villains you will ever love to hate. He outed a child’s secret identity to the world out of spite, for Christ’s sake! That really is up there with “I put a tumor in your mom’s brain” in terms of deliciously hateable dickishness in the MCU, in my opinion.

He may not be the most complex villain out there, and his backstory is a bit played out (which is funny, considering the cliche hero story with destroyed worlds and dead families his team constructs ends up being more original in comparison), but what he lacks in depth he makes up for in charm, charisma, brilliant acting, and just delicious evilness. I seriously hope he comes back, because if any villain deserves more of a thrashing from a hero they fought, it’s this guy.

#Psycho Analysis #Mysterio #Quentin Beck #Spider-Man #Far From Home #Spoilers #MCU #Marvel #Jake Gyllenhaal

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stonefangs · 4 years

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what’re your top two favorite cats of each clan (excluding your own), as of right now? :3c

how could you……………….make me pick…………………… ((cracks my knuckles))

Keep in mind that my favorites change with the tide, these are just the cats I’m especially vibing with atm! For the sake of Everyone’s dashboard, I’m putting my answers under a Read More,

NettleClan:

Squirrelwhisker! I am absolutely biased because I have Daisytooth, his brother, but I never fail to have a lot of fun rping with Squirrelwhisker! I’m always laughing my ass off with him because he gives me an excuse to do the absolute most ridiculous things using Daisytooth, but that’s not the only reason! I feel like he’s a really consistent character, and despite how he tends to have thoughts of heroism and idealism when it comes to presenting himself, he feels grounded and realistic! He’s just a good guy who’s trying to make the best of the hands dealt to him/his family/his Clan.

And Badgerstep! I really do have a soft spot for boys that are just…. good. Badgerstep has always been a sweet man with a big heart and lots of love to share, I feel like he should really be a good role model for the young cats of NettleClan! He’s been going through really tough times recently, but he lets his friends and family help him. He’s always been a feel-good character for me, even from the beginning of FogClan!

CreekClan:

ohhh man this was hard to narrow down to just two… I’ll go with

Currentstar! At least from what I’ve seen of ThreeClan’s leaders since I’ve joined, this mans provides a fresh new perspective and feel to the role! Though I love lenient leaders, modern leaders, it’s super interesting to see a cat who is clinging hard to old traditions that he grew up abiding by– especially in such tumultuous times as the generations of the Clans that are growing after The Great Journey. When tradition has never been more challenged and questioned, he’s trying his best to find a sense of normalcy. But all the while, he’s a very sympathetic character who has been thrust into leadership very quickly and struggled to settle down and feel right in his own skin. He’s developed a lot so far, it shows that he’s getting more confident in himself with a few bumps in the road, but I respect him immensely! I also have a crush on him

Aaaaand Carpfang! I’ll be honest, i NEVER expected to enjoy Carpfang near as much as I do now. Rough and cold characters are really not my favorite type by far, and I tend to get frustrated with them and their attitudes, but Carpfang has always been so much more than that. She’s hard on the outside, but she has true depth to her character beyond her reputation (and Marigoldpaw ((who is my third favorite)) has done amazing at helping her develop!). She’s not incapable of having trusting and intimate relationships, even if it takes a minute to get through to her, she has really realistic (imo) motives for feeling and acting the way she does, given her family history… She’s real, she’s relatable, she’s well-meaning for much of what matters, and she’s a real bad ass. I love a gal

JaggedClan:

MANTISSTAR MANTISSTAR MANTISSTAR MANTISSTAR MANTISSTAR!!!! She is my WIFE, my LOVE. I really don’t think that I’ve met another character who embodies literally all of my weaknesses, everything that I personally love to see in an OC. Mantisstar comes from a more than troubled origin, where she’d been coerced into an ugly side of history, a victim of circumstance but one who knew that being a victim didn’t excuse her from a certain responsibility of wrongdoing. She rose above the sum of her parts, helped to make right what bad things had been done despite her, a hero from humble origins– and from that, she developed this heroic complex, a NEED to do right, terrified of hurting others despite her intentions. It’s so interesting to see her struggle with making the right choices when things are never so perfectly black and white, even if it breaks my heart when she finds herself getting lost. She is a genuinely good person, she’s wise and kind- forgiving, but just. But she isn’t untouchable. She’s so tangible and real, she reminds me of real people that I’ve idolized in my own life, and I LOVE her. Not only is she my favorite JaggedClan cat, but she is my favorite ThreeClans character!

Then there’s Magpiestorm. Honestly, I feel a Bit similar to her as I do about Carpfang. Though Magpiestorm is arguably more antagonistic and… unstable? than Carpfang is, she’s a whole different take on the hardass girl with troubled family and trust issues, and I honestly took a long while to warm up to her. Again, like I need to feel about all of my favorite characters, she feels developed and truer than just the tropes she happens to fit into. She’s really complex! Though she puts up these barbed wire laden walls all around her, feels obligated to no one but her sister, she has this clear struggle with an innate need for connection. She doesn’t enjoy the way that she acts, she wants to be able to do more, be better, but stubbornness and pride keeps her from letting go of her demons. For a little while she might begin to let those walls down, she might begin to seek out other cats and let other cats in closer to her, but then something will happen that pushes her right back into her own headspace in a cyclical internal struggle… It leaves me guessing, leaves me wanting more, makes me want to see which path she finally makes a commitment to!

FogClan:

By all means, Duskfang. I am so happy that the OC who shares my name is THIS FUCKING GOOD. Duskfang is probably one of the most complex and meticulously developed characters that I’ve had the pleasure of seeing from their conception to their present. She had this ambiguous, mysterious origin that has been perfectly pieced together over time, not near so much from OOC talk, but through revelation and parallels set up almost Too perfectly for her in the ongoing plot line. She, herself, started off mysterious and ambiguous– which, I’ll be honest, turned me off at first. I was expecting an almost… stereotypical secondary-antagonist role to come out of the Fang and Flicker duo, but we got so much more than that. Duskfang has struggled and struggled hard in every aspect of her existence since she’s joined FogClan. She’s had dilemmas and choices that no other cat could hardly dream of having to face, and she has made some very horrible decisions along the way… and I’ve never felt more sympathetic for someone else who’s done the equivalent of what she has? Because I’ve never been able to see exactly what a character is thinking, and exactly why they’re having the thoughts that they are, and how they could be made to feel such raw and powerful emotion that has been brewing and bubbling since the very first day they were ever written. Duskfang’s entire character just feels perfectly planned and perfectly executed, and I couldn’t have ever expected to get what she gives us!

Another popular choice, I’m sure- but Foxflame! Another biased choice? Perhaps! Bramblefang loves him, so I’m just obligated to feel the same…. No, but really, Foxflame is another character that has given me a very pleasant surprise! I’ll be honest, he had my attention from the get-go because bubbly characters really are my guilty pleasure… I would have been satisfied if he just stayed a bubbly guy, a sweet person. No, but then we had to be introduced to the reasons Why they try so hard to make others smile, to make others happy. We had to get into the nitty gritty, his fears, his shortcomings, a need to protect his loved ones even at his own sacrifice. They can definitely be a bit of an airhead, too caught up in the strings of their own heart to listen to their head when they might need to, but that just makes them who they are! They’ve made some really questionable calls for the sake of their heart- he’s gone through the motions of a well-rounded character with beyond two dimensional motivations, and it’s always a pleasure to see him written in the good and bad moments!

Tribe of Twisted Tunnels:

Hehe these might be some interesting answers, if I can talk without giving too much away…. I’m gonna start off with: Aspen Snow. Man, tough girls really have been more my type than I was ever prepared to admit, but I’m not ashamed of it! I’m NOT! I’ve always watched Aspen Snow with a healthy intrigue from afar from when she was a to-be, but it wasn’t until the Tribe’s suffering was coming to a close that she really began to catch my attention. She was a scrappy to-be, full of spunk and a very, very unhealthy dose of youthful hubris. She was fun to read! But after her brother left the Tribe with Raven, it started off an arc that I really wasn’t prepared to see her through- in a good way! The pure hurt that she felt caught me by surprise. I wasn’t prepared to see just how much losing her brother, feeling betrayed by him, abandoned, would break her down. Nor was I expecting the way in which she pieced herself right back together, with fangs and claws and all. She grew bitter, became resentful of not only her brother, but much of the Tribe, its leaders. She needed others to blame, and she clung hard onto that. But then, with Spark Feather’s companionship, she began to ground herself more again. She coped better, she moved on for the sake of herself and others’ betterment instead of just pure spite…. And now? Ohoh. Now. There’s a lot going on with her now, like a relapse into those horrible moons passed, and I’m as scared as I am excited to see where it leads her! And now, the reason that this might be an interesting answer to insiders– Patched Petal. I am going to be straight up, at the same moment that she occupies my top two favorite’s spot, I resent her in her entirety. I am mad at Patched Petal. I am hurt by her and indignant completely on Aspen Snow’s behalf for what Patched Petal has done and is doing to her, things that she’s said to and felt about her own daughter. I resent her, but I’ll be damned if I’m not enraptured by it. Patched Petal has always been a difficult character for me to place– she’s never been very pleasant, but she’s also not been entirely disagreeable- before now. She was a stubborn mother with a fire in her heart that could only be tamed by her children, and after losing her son? It was all downhill from there. I feel like she has made every wrong decision that she could have made in regards to her remaining daughter, after Maple/Flickerclaw left. She’s closed herself away from Aspen Snow, she’s pined for her son to the point of ignoring her daughter, and she’s grown more and more resentful because Aspen Snow has decided that she doesn’t want to wait up for her any more. And now, her most recent development? I could strangle the woman, but it’s such an engrossing conflict that I can’t take my eyes off of this trainwreck…. Patched Petal, you are Something Else. And thus concludes my 2 top favorite cats in each group! My fingers hurt!

@squirrelwhiskr @nicks-cats @currentfangs @crowfalled @swanface @cinderstar @boulderstep

#ask

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nihilnovisubsole · 5 years

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Do you have any tips considering fanfics with original characters as protagonists? Specific issues to look out for? I admire your writing and your writing advice, you put everything so well into words. Perhaps you've thought about this in more detail as well. I feel like fanfics with original characters are difficult to make intriguing or worthwhile for readers.

yeah, i have thought about it, and i wish i had some kind of sagely, concise answer to give you. this is going to be another long post, sorry. i mulled it over for a few days and i’ve got a lot on my mind.

i don’t know if i could tell you anything from a prose standpoint about “how to write better fanfic with OC protagonists.” i think writing a fan character is, with a few exceptions, pretty much the same as writing a canon character. they have to talk and behave like a real person. they have to be consistent, or have a good reason for it when they’re not. they have to go through events in the story that challenge them. basically, they have to be flesh and blood. if you can find the spark of life in a canon character you love, you can put one in an OC, too.

the only material difference is that they belong to you, and because of that, there’s no “bible” of canon content to refer to. you’re on your own for things like their character arc and dialogue voice. sure, there might be people who are skeptical of them based on their preconceptions about OC fic. but that’s not something you have any control over, so if you ask me, it’s not something that should sway your writing decisions.

on the flipside, a lot of the “issues” i could tell you to “look out for” could just as easily apply to an original fic. “have a cohesive plot arc with conflict, rising action, and a conclusion that makes sense?” that’s every story. “make the premise interesting?” that means three different things to three different people. there’s not much, at least to my eye, that’s only relevant when you’re introducing an OC into a canon universe.

so, when it comes down to it, i feel like writing OC fic is less about how you do it and more about your attitude toward it. it’s not an undertaking where you can bring your shame to the table. every writing project i’ve done, most of all fanfic, has started out with me planning not to tell anyone about it. i always go, “this is ridiculous, i can’t admit i made this OC,” or “i’ll write one passage to get it out of my system, but i won’t publish it.” once i’m in, the fun takes over, and i peel off those layers of embarrassment as i grow more and more fond of the premise and characters. there’s prudence, of course, and good taste, but at the risk of sounding corny… at some point, you just have to let your enthusiasm lead the way.

so, that said:

is there another side to the story/world that interests you enough to explore?

is there a side character you think has untapped potential? was there a mission or episode detail you wanted to explore in more depth? did you ever wonder how the big, heroic main plot might have affected people and places that you didn’t see? if you want to write about big pairings and big, popular subjects and your OC is just the lens the reader sees it all through, great! but if something else grabs you, pursue it, because nobody else is going to have a take on it that’s exactly like yours.

if the story is good, it won’t matter whether an OC or a canon character is the protagonist. it’s just a good story, full stop. if someone won’t take a chance on it because it has an OC lead, it goes back to what i said earlier - that’s on them, not you.

are you writing from a place that is emotionally meaningful to you?

you don’t have to lift something whole-cloth from your own experience. i know it’s annoying to hear people say that you do, and with many fandoms, it’d be impossible. i mean, who among us has fought aliens? but what do you feel strongly about? what emotions have you been through? is there a kind of character or relationship you really want to see? what’s the small, glowing grain of truth within the character that’s going to take them from being a puppet to “a real boy?”

some people will tell you to keep your main characters at arm’s length in case you have to do something nasty to them down the line. i don’t. i always fling myself into it. i’ve talked about that before. does it hurt more when people don’t like them? sure it does, but it forces me to be a more compassionate writer, and i feel the results are worth it. irina, jo, sabrael, marcus and livia, everyone else - i carved a piece of my guts into all of them, and now i’ve served it to you. gross!

and lastly, but most importantly:

do you love the character?

of course you love your character! what kind of a question is that?

and if you don’t, then… why not? i’m not judging, just asking. are they new, and you haven’t had time to get to know them yet? do they come with baggage because you’re worried about them being “cringe?” [if so, cut it out. remember what i said about shame.]

or maybe you just haven’t found the key that will open the locked door of “knowledge of how to write them, and the fondness that comes with it.” every character, to me, starts out with that door, and the key is different every time - a personality trait, an item of clothing, their dialogue voice, something that happened in their backstory, etc. for some characters, the key is much harder to find than others. i don’t know why. but if you haven’t found it yet, don’t worry. keep looking.

here’s the theory that i like: people can tell when you care. if you’ve made something with love, that shines through, regardless of your skill level. if you get excited when you think of a new idea for their story, write it with the same amount of glee you get from envisioning it. if you’ve had the character for so long that it’s become a fictional companion to you, those nuances you’ve learned about them will show up in the writing, just like a real old friend.

sadly, i can’t promise you that doing all that will result in a huge reader turnout or tons of feedback. i wish it did. it doesn’t always. you can work hard and do your best, and it still might not translate to a high level of engagement. but just because the internet is weird, fickle, and cruel doesn’t mean you won’t end up with a cool story that you should be proud of. i’m not saying that should be enough to satisfy you. we all want people to read what we write. we’d be lying if we said we didn’t. i’m just saying that if you write an OC fic from start to finish, you will have achieved something. don’t think it being fanwork diminishes it.

some extra parting thoughts:

for what it’s worth, i’m glad to see the mary sue thing is - at least in places - in its death throes. because, honestly, it’s 2019. it’s time for us to move on. and, look, i’m not a fool. i’ve been engaging with fan content since i was a preteen. i’ve seen OCs where i didn’t buy what the creator was selling me. maybe their visual design didn’t mesh with the main cast. maybe they were a weird choice for their canon-character love interest. maybe they were handed too much, or maybe they lost too much, or anything else from that grab bag of mary sue mortal sins that really live or die on the execution, not the concept.

did i get invested in their stories? no. is that a problem? of course not. i still hoped they had fun and kept working with them, because fun leads to practice, and practice - eventually - leads to skill. brushing all that off as “lol its a mary sue it sux” is intellectually lazy, and also beside the point. the point was for the creator to have fun with a piece of media they enjoy. if they did that, my opinion that an angel vampire with natural pink eyes might be a strange match for sherlock isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on.

#anon #asks #writing

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sarcasticmesswriting · 5 years

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WinterHawkWeek Day 6 - Accidental Confessions

Canon, fluff.

Haha, I forgot to post yesterday because I am an idiot. Have two stories.

It was so unfair.

Why did it have to be a giant squid moving through the Hudson River and pulling in whatever it could reach from the water? And if that wasn’t enough, Clint had to watch from afar, shooting arrows at flailing limbs and pinning them down, while Bucky moved in between them and either cut them off or dance out of the way.

Ultimately it was also Bucky who finally killed the squid, but only after he had been grabbed and pulled into the water, giving Clint a small heart attack.

The tentacles jolted and then slumped to the ground, slowly sliding back into the water as the whole body sunk.

Tony was already complaining about how he wanted a live specimen to science with Bruce, but Clint tuned him out immediately as he went over to their meeting place where the jet was sitting. It was in full view of the riverbank, so Clint had a front-row seat to watch Bucky emerge from the water and push himself up onto the solid ground.

Bucky pushed his hair back with one hand and grinned at Steve who had come over. There was no way Clint could read their lips when Clint’s heart was doing overtime and his eyes were glued to Bucky’s hands that were loosening his uniform to be able to take it off. He was of course not wearing anything underneath and Clint swallowed. Hot, wet muscles with an attitude.

Clint’s kryptonite.

“Hey, Hawkeye, it looks like you didn’t get to do much,” Sam said as he landed next to Clint, his wings retracting soundlessly.

“Not like you were a big help either,” Clint snapped and turned to stomp into the jet. He wasn’t being fair to Sam who had the best intentions, but Clint just couldn’t help it.

He locked himself in the cockpit and hoped no one would try to find him, so he could calm down a little and maybe not try to tear off the next person’s head. He didn’t expect to be left alone forever, so it was no surprise when Natasha cornered him in the kitchen later the same day as he got himself some coffee.

“What’s going on?” She crossed her arms and leveled her most unimpressed look at him. “Sam is the last person you mouth off to.”

“Sending his guard dog? Wow.” Shaking his head he put his empty mug into the sink and started to head out of the kitchen. Evidently, he hadn’t calmed down enough.

Natasha grabbed his arm. “Talk to me.”

“Fine,” he said and whirled around to face her. “You want to know what’s my problem? Bucky fucking Barnes is my problem. Did you see him today? Being all heroic and shit, jumping into the river and killing that thing, but that would have been fine. I would have managed, but no. He had to go and strip on the spot. Like, who does that? It’s torture. He’s torturing all of us. Or at least me. I mean, you saw him. With that infuriatingly smug smirk and all those muscles. It’s. It’s. Oh, and don’t get me started on his fucking hair. Does it have to be that long? And it’s so soft, Tasha. Remember that one time he fell asleep on my shoulder? It was a trial from the Gods I don’t believe in, I tell you. Don’t even get me started on his laugh. Why the fuck does the hottest guy on the planet have the cutest snort-laugh in the history of all laughs? It’s just not fair and I’m here on the sidelines struggling with not blurting any of that out in his presence, so excuse me for being a bit defensive.” A bit out of breath he made an articulate sound and scrubbed his hands over his face. “So, yeah. Dealing with being in love with someone who considers you a friend is going on with me.”

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Slowly Clint looked up at Natasha, expecting a surprised expression or a startled one, but instead, she was looking past Clint over his shoulder with panic in her eyes.

“Please tell me it’s Bruce or Steve or anyone other than who I think it is.”

Natasha looked at Clint and grimaced.

“Fuck,” Clint muttered and steeled himself, before turning around and coming face to face with Bucky who looked midmotion of stepping into the kitchen, eyes wide. He had changed into faded jeans and Clint’s favorite red sweater that made Bucky look incredibly soft and approachable.

“How much did you hear?” Out of the corner of his eye, Clint saw Natasha fleeing the room, the traitor.

“All of it, I assume. You said I was your problem and then. Uhm.” Bucky swallowed and glanced away and yeah. That was about what Clint had expected.

“Look. I was never going to tell you and put you on the spot like this. I knew the whole time you wouldn’t go for someone like me. I’ll get over it, so it would be for the best if you forget about all of this.” Clint moved past Bucky, but paused for a moment to say “I’m sorry” and then left as quickly as possible, not seeing Bucky’s frowning gaze following him.

Clint barely believed it, but nothing really changed. Natasha glanced at him and Bucky every now and then, when they were all together in team-building activities, but the way Bucky acted around Clint didn’t change and Clint was grateful. The friendship they had built was way too valuable.

But then one morning Clint had finished his workout and had headed back to his floor when a flash of yellow at his door made him pause. It was a simple square post-it glued to the door on eye level.

You’re a hard worker.

That was it. Just that one sentence in unfamiliar handwriting. It had to have been an Avenger and Clint knew all of theirs, so someone had gone through the trouble of concealing it.

“Jarvis?”

“I am under the impression that it is a secret, Sir, with an elaborate idea behind it. Do you really wish to know?”

Stroking his thumb over the words Clint was, against all common sense, intrigued. “Not yet.”

It continued like this. Clint found at least one post-it a day, sometimes even two. They were on his door or in the range on his bow or the communal floor or the gym. Anywhere Clint went, there could be a message waiting for him.

Your smile is contagious.

When you say “I meant to do that”, I actually believe you.

That thing where you know when someone needs something? That amazing.

You’re gorgeous - and that’s the least interesting thing about you, too.

Compliment after compliment after compliment. Any time Clint thought there could not be anymore, he was proven wrong.

None of the others acted at all differently and short of asking Jarvis, there really wasn’t a way to figure out who it was. If he was really honest with himself, he kind of didn’t want to know. It was nice having someone go out of their way to tell Clint all these things, even as a joke.

But then the nice, but generic messages anyone could have pulled from the internet turned specialized. References to events, to things Clint did during team evenings or out during a fight when Clint took care of evacuating a bus overturned in the street.

For days it was all events where the whole team was present and then slowly, every two or three days, someone got eliminating.

Clint spotted the flash of yellow behind the coffee machine as the whole team got ready to eat and his heart immediately started to race. His fingers toyed with the edge of the paper, but he didn’t pull it off to read just yet.

Behind him, someone laughed, but it was like there was a wall between him and the rest of the room. There were only two options left. Tony or Bucky. If it was Tony, the whole thing most definitely had been a joke on Clint’s expense. If it was Bucky…

Clint didn’t want to dare get his hopes up. He had actually confessed to Bucky over two months ago and it had been accidental, but Bucky would have said something then, right?

Slowly Clint peeled off the paper and took a deep breath before he looked at it.

I want to take you out to dinner and maybe someday, you will allow me to tear off those tiny purple exercise pants.

Heart in his throat he turned around and his eyes found Bucky who was already looking at him, a smirk showing up at once.

“Figured it out yet?” Bucky asked and everyone else fell silent at once until a pin being dropped would have been audible.

“Why?” A single word, but Clint’s voice still broke.

Bucky crossed the room in a flash and cupped Clint’s face, hot and cold at the same time. “I could have said something before, I know, but I wanted to do something special for you. I wanted to show you that you deserve everything you want. I wanted to show you how I see you and I wanted to make you smile every day.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s a first,” Tony replied and promptly yelped in pain as he was shushed.

“Clint,” Bucky said as if nothing happened. “Will you please allow me to take you out on a date? “

“No joke?” Clint grabbed Bucky’s shirt, hope dangerously trying to take over.

“No joke. Every single word in those messages is true and there is even more I want to tell you. I’ll make sure you will believe it if it takes forever. Honestly, preferably it takes forever.”

There were no words to convey Clint’s feelings in that moment, so he just pulled Bucky down as Clint stretched up and they met in the middle in a kiss.

“Yes,” Clint whispered as they parted and kissed Bucky again, feeling hands press into Clint’s sides.

“I feel like I just witnessed a marriage proposal,” Sam commented, but Clint didn’t pull away from Bucky just yet. He was way too happy to be bothered by the teasing.

“No one has asked for my approval,” Steve said in the driest tone possible.

“You do know that implies Barnes is the girl.”

“Have you not heard, Tony? No one is the girl in a gay relationship.”

“I’m in love with you, by the way,” Bucky said quietly as the bickering got out of hand. “Just in case, it wasn’t clear.”

“I love you too.”

#winterhawkweek #winterhawk #clint barton #bucky barnes #fanfiction #my writing #canon #fluff #pining #marvel #confessions

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maikatc · 4 years

Text

black sun tale but it’s the original first draft i wrote back in seventh grade like three or four years ago

and yes, i mean the entire 2k words of it, unedited too

Hyhqwv

“I wonder what’s going on right now,” I was in my living room couch and checked out the latest news on YouTube from my black laptop. New York City has been going wild on the internet lately. There have been pictures and videos of dead bodies and people proclaiming that they saw monsters. News stations are even going on saying that deaths are occurring at random places with no evidence for a reason. The subway, buildings, even some at the theme park. The unknown cases are causing major panic for most, parents aren’t even letting their children go outside.

“I don’t think anything will happen today,” my dad replied to me while he was in the kitchen.

“And you probably just jinxed it,” I continued scrolling through the page, skimming at the titles until I found something. The headline said Children Are Not Safe Anymore. I clicked on the video, there was a dead small girl inside a house. She looked like she was only five years old. No injuries at all. The babysitter said she was in the kitchen while the child named Alexa was in her bedroom playing with her dolls. Apparently, Alexa was the daughter of a new model, Lumi Katsmann, and she was too busy to have much time with her. I suppose she kept the little girl inside like most would but now there’s no certainty that would work.

I went on my phone to see if Twitter or Instagram has anything. When I turn on my phone, there was a text notification from Sora. Saying that I was late

Sora has been my friend since middle school because of me being the first person she met. She’s nice, but does have a bit of a temper, doesn’t really matter though. When summer began, we planned to meet up the day after she comes back from her summer trip, July 2nd at 3:15.

2:31

Sora: Jackson, you’re late

Jackson: But I thought you said at 3:15

Sora: I said 2:15

I scrolled through my phone all the way until I got to when we planned the outing. As I looked at the conversation, I realized that she did say 2:15. Well shit. I got up from the couch I was laying on, my legs wobbled from not standing up for a few hours. All I had on were bowers and a T-shirt I used when I sleep so I decided to change clothes.

“Are you going anywhere,” I forgot to tell dad.

“I’m just meeting up with Sora at the park,” I spoke while rushing to get myself ready. I put on a white shirt with black stripes, blue jeans and a pair of Nike shoes. Before I left, I grabbed my phone just in case something else happens today and went off.

“Bye dad.”

“Be careful Jackson.”

“‘Kay,” as I close the door.

I turned around to go to the destined land, the park. Sora would be a bit moody when I make it there for being late but I guess I should tell her what’s been happening lately. She would at least be intrigued, she’s interested in mystery. I know enough things about her that people would think we’re childhood friends, but we’ve only known each other for five years. Now thinking about it, we’ve been together for a long time. I remember in freshman year, I even got interested in her, but I knew things would get awkward between us, especially if something bad happened. At the end, I decided to not say anything, eventually the interest faded away. Now, everything’s chill and we’d hang out every few days or so

Some good breeze was passing through me while walking. The weather said this was one of the best summer days ironically. Aside from that kid’s death, perfect weather , good time of relaxing, it has been an enjoyable day so far. And now I’m about to be at the park.

Wrgdb Eulqjv Wkh Ixwxuh

It’ll be a few seconds before I make it to the assigned area. It was more silent than usually, no sound at all really. I stood as I got to the entrance. The breeze flew throughout knocking some leaves off the trees while I saw something terrifying.

Blood.

Dead bodies.

Sora’s dead body.

Right in front of me.

Impaled.

Her brunette hair dyed with blood.

What happened?

What caused this to happened?

Why is everybody dead?

Their guts are even showing.

Why?

I see something over there.

It looks big.

It looks like

A Chinese dragon.

It has claws.

They’re covered in blood.

Buried in blood.

Run.

Run!

RUN!

I ran as fast as I could in the wish of survival. A girl, light brown hair, walk past me, walking to where it was.

I stopped. “Don’t go there! You’ll get yourself killed!”

She paused her walking and turned around. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine,” she smiled while her hazel eyes glistened in the distance as she continues to the land of demise.

I have no time to save her, she would die either way, so what’s the point? She chose to go there. It doesn’t matter now.

My mind was in survival mode, the side of humans which doesn’t make them think heroically in the shows. Reality is different, we’re selfish in this mode, you do whatever to survive. People probably don’t except this fact, hell, even I don’t like to except it sometimes, but one day they have to.

I was running through the streets. Bumping into people the entire time. Looking at me like they should. I looked like I saw the depths of hell and ran like a madman. I didn’t care, I saw something that could’ve killed me. I was getting tired, I needed to rest. I was about to come up to an alley, I turned to the dark surroundings, sat down and closed my eyes for a second.

“Wow, how ironic you came here,” the voice sounded like a kid’s. I opened my eyes, Nike shorts with bright green sneakers. Looking up I saw more of the child, white shirt with a few stains, a black hoodie with bright blue highlights, half zipped. I wasn’t sure if they were a boy or girl. Their black hair was droopy and went down to the middle of their neck, but by the voice, I’m guessing it’s a boy. What really caught my attention was his eyes. The left one was only a deep sea blue, somewhat rare but still normal. Then there was his right eye. There wasn’t even a pupil or iris. It was silver in background but covering most was a design that looked like a black sun.

“Alleyways are popular here aren’t they? And you came to the alley where I live,” I looked around and saw it was decorated a little bit. A calendar and a few papers on the wall which contains drawings that each said ‘accomplishment’. There was even a small dream-catcher.

After a few seconds, I noticed, “How old are you?”

“Ummm, I’m about to turn thirteen soon, but don’t think about messing with me,” he was definitely lying. He was much shorter than me and his voice was barely deep. He seemed like he was in around the end of elementary school. What questioned me was that he was saying he lived in the alley. He was too young, he’d die. “Wait a minute, what’s that on your forehead?”

My black hair covers the majority of my forehead, but it looked like he saw something there. He began to reach it with his hand.

“What do you think you’re doing,” as he split the front hair. His face started looking surprised, confused, but had some excitement.

“Woah,” he smiled,” you’re one of us,” he turned around and paused for a second to think. I was in confusion the entire time. Who is he? Why is his eye like that? What does he mean by one of us?

“Let’s go,” he grabbed my hand immediately and got me up with incredible strength for his size.

“Hey Aladdin! I have defeated the dragon th-,” then appeared the girl with light brown hair.

Phhwlqjv

“Wow, finally we found somebody else,” the girl has a yin-yang T-shirt and blue baggy shorts, nothing that revealing, but there was something black poking out of her chest.

“Who are you people,” how was she still alive,and she said she defeated that thing. Why did she call that kid Aladdin? That’s a fictional character, who would name their kid Aladdin?

“Glad you asked! We are Black Sun Tale! We are people who have special abilities and defeat these monster, creature things. And you’re apart of it!”

“What,” These people are insane. How am I apart of this? I thought to myself.

“You didn’t explain everything Annette.”

“Why don’t you call me by Belle?”

“Because your ‘code names’ are stupid.”

“I think they’re cool,” she said in a pouty face

“They’re fairy tales!”

I saw them bicker at each other for the next two minutes until I had enough, “Can you explain to me what is going on? I don’t know who both of you are and somehow I’m a part of this group? Why?”

“Well-” the girl called Annette started speaking until the sun-eyed boy stopped her.

“Let me do this, explaining it with your peppy attitude will make him think we’re insane.”

“Fine,” she said with crossed arms.

“Okay, so see my eye? Well Annette-”

“Belle!”

“Whatever, Belle, has a black sun mark too. Show it.” the so-called Belle lowered her shirt to show a black sun mark on the top of the left side of her chest.

“And if you look at your forehead, you have one too. Oh and for a bit more detail, we have three members so far and I’m the leader.”

“How are you the leader.” I questioned him. I didn’t believe a group that defeats creatures that kills would be a little kid.

“I was the one who got this stuff in the first place and found all of you guys. I’ve also been though some traumatising shit, how do you think I’m living here? My family kicked me out? Why the hell would they do that,” his voice filled with anger, it looked like he was about to cry.

“Can you calm down. Look sure I’ll join whatever you’re doing. I just have a few more questions.”

Belle came into the conversation, “Um sure. What do you wanna ask?”

“Well you said that there are three members right? Well then who’s the third member?”

“Oh! Well, um, uhh she’s not that active with the group lately. She’s the youngest in the group, turning twelve in two weeks, but she’s, what do you call them, oh, a shut in. She was to be somewhat hyper like me, and she annoyed Aladdin even more than me because of her being a fangirl over stuff like anime and such. Now, she’s consumed by the internet and almost never goes out. She also sleeps more at day than she does at night, but I think she’s Aurora, or Briar if you like the book more, from Sleeping Beauty!”

“Second, what are your real names?”

“Oh fine, since you’re in the group. I’m Annette Jasofy, Aladdin’s name is Ayu, he never told me his last name for private reasons, and Briar’s is Roselle Karzen. Oh I forgot to ask, what’s your name?”

“Jackson Bardsly,” I wasn’t hesitant, they were younger than me, they couldn’t do anything. “Lastly, how old are you guy’s?”

“I’m fourteen, Aladdin-”

“Ayu!”

“Yeah yeah, he’s twelve and Briar is as I said, eleven. And we’re wondering about your age?”

“Seventeen.”

“Thanks, I can’t wait to see your power, so Aladdin what do you want to do now?”

I didn’t notice but Ayu was observing the whole conversation. He had a bored look but still had a bit of curiosity in his eyes.

“I don’t know, shouldn’t we let the newbie choose,” he spoke with a somewhat sarcastic tone but looked at me.

“I would like to meet the third member,” Ayu looked at me with a face that said he did not want to go there at all, “but I think I’ll go home�� My friend was at the park.”

It was silent, even Annette wasn’t sure what to say. Ayu then grew dejection on his face. He walked up to me slowly and raised his arm to my shoulder. Having small tippy toes and eyes down to the ground.

“It’s fine, you can come here anytime… We’ll help I guess.... And don’t worry, something like that happened to me too,” he was quiet at first but by the end he was smiling with some hope in his eyes.

After we said our goodbyes, I left to my house. Unsure of what to tell my dad, and thinking of what to do tomorrow. Should I just stay home and be on my laptop all day? Or should I hang out with those kids. Questions flying all around on what to do.

“I’m back, Dad.”

“How was your date?”

I froze for a moment, thinking back on what happens, but I about that aside.

“First of all, it wasn’t a date. And… Nothing really happened.”

#my regretful writing #writeblr #writblr #writers on tumblr #wattpad #cursed #i still miss jackson tbh #oliver didn't exist yet #i dislike this #but this was technically the first time i took writing kinda seriously #so it's important considering the long run

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beeblackburn · 4 years

Text

Pretender Reads A Little Hatred, Part I, Chapter Six

I feel weighed enough by the chains of procrastination that I wish I got a couple of breakers to smash it all down! Goes without saying spoilers ahead for the entirety of The First Law works beyond the keep reading. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Title: The Breakers Point-of-View: Vick dan Teufel

“What sort of a name is Vick, anyway?”

“Short for Victarine.”

“Very fucking fancy,” sneered Grise. Vick hadn’t known her long, but she was already getting tired of her. “Daresay you’ve got a fucking ‘dan’ in your name, too, eh, your ladyship?”

It’s okay, Vick, I’ve just known Grise two sentences and I’m already tired of her.

That being said, Vick doesn’t beat around the bush in her voice, does she. And this short exchange already suggests, along with the chapter title, that the Breakers aren’t as monolithic in character as the first trilogy’s peasant rebellion was, an evolution of the old of the peasantry through the ones of nobility to the new status of giving voice to the commonfolk.

Also, hell’s yeah. More working-class voices! After fantasy’s gout of prioritizing noble or royalty voices (or commonfolk who turn out to be royalty by royal blood), this is super welcome. I’m all for more eyes into the anger and wrath of the common men!

She held Grise’s eye. “I did have a ‘dan’ in my name, once. My father was Master of the Royal Mints. Had a great big apartment in the Agriont.” And Vick nodded towards her best idea of where the fortress was, though the points of the compass were hard to tell apart in a mouldy cellar. “Right next to the palace. Big enough for a statue of Harod the Great in the hall. Life fucking size.”

Grise had quite the frown on her round face now, light flickering across it as boots, and hoofs, and cartwheels clattered past the little windows high up near the ceiling. “You grew up in the Agriont?”

“You weren’t listening. My father had an apartment there. But when I was eight years old, he trod on the wrong toes and the Inquisition took him. I hear it was Old Sticks himself who asked the questions.”

Master of the Royal Mints... who... wait... Sepp dan Teufel? The guy whose finger joints Glokta chopped off near The Blade Itself’s start? Damn, that’s one hell of a deep dive! He’s not exactly a character of importance, being only in one chapter, and all we knew of him is that he was kind of a blowhard using his position and connections to try and get out of Glokta’s tender care.

Why bring the Teufel connection into this then...?

“My father was innocent. Of what they accused him of, anyway. But once Old Sticks got started…” Vick slapped the table with a bang, Tallow jumping so high he nearly hit the ceiling. “He leaked confessions like a broken drain. High Treason. They sent him to Angland. To the camps right up North.” Vick didn’t feel much like it, but she grinned. “And no one likes to split up a happy family. So they sent my ma with him. My ma, and my brother, and my sisters, and me. The camps, Grise. That’s where I grew up. So don’t question my commitment to the cause. Not ever.”

Oh damn. That’s why. For every man Glokta ruined and forced into confession, there were others connected to each body. Sepp dan Teufel himself doesn’t matter, it’s what Glokta did to Vick’s entire family is what matters. She's the consequences of the first trilogy’s actions writ small, the collateral bodies that ended up in misery and suffering because of what Glokta’s done, regardless of guilt or innocence, but sheer political expediency.

Sepp dan Teufel being a relative no-name actually works better than if it was a bigger name Glokta tortured, because he was swept aside rather quick in the greater narrative of the first trilogy... but Vick’s here, reminding us that most actions Glokta undertook had a terrible cost attached, damaging more than the men he chopped flesh off of. It’s just an extension of how monstrous Glokta’s actions really were, detached of his more wry, humorous, self-pitying narrative.

And, on a character note, that forced smile makes me think of Savine’s performance, except with greater bitterness. Whereas Savine performs to gain leverage and points over people, Vick... there’s just this feeling of negative space. This feeling that there’s nothing inside her, no joy or mirth or humor, because the camps hollowed those things out of her and all she can express is what she forces herself. It’s a greater effort, emotionally, for Vick.

You could hear the ill squelch as Tallow swallowed. “What are the camps like?”

“You get by.”

Oh, the filth, pain, hunger, death, injustice and betrayal that she buried in that phrase. The black chill of the mines, the searing glow of the furnaces, the gnashing rage and sobbing desperation, the bodies in the snow. Vick forced her face to stay blank, pressed down the past like you might press down the lid on a box full of maggots.

“You get by,” she said, firmer. When you tell a lie, you have to sound like you believe it. Goes double for the ones you tell yourself.

Oh, Vick. The fact that you can consciously recall all that misery, yet you still have to lie to yourself that “you get by” in that hellscape? It reads off as an trauma reaction, a victim rationally recalling what was done to her, but has to emotionally suppress the horrors of what was done, lest it overwhelm her all over.

My heart.

And, you know what strikes me about Vick’s general character? She feels like a refinement of Cathil, way back in Before They Are Hanged. Now, Cathil herself was a blatant device to give more insight into West and the Dogman, thanks to Abercrombie’s mishandling of his female characters, but when you think about it, she’s another survivor of the camps, even right down to the camps being from Angland. Someone who had to surrender her pride and shame, in order to get by, just like Vick.

Someone hollowed out by the camps, just like Vick...

She grabbed hold of West’s arm as he turned away. “It’s no easy ride here.” Her voice was a surprise. Soft, smooth, educated. “Cathil is my name. I can work.” West looked down at her, ready to shake his arm free, but her expression reminded him of something. Painless. Fearless. Empty eyes, flat, like a corpse.

—Before They Are Hanged, Small Crimes

... Except the Cathil figure here gets to have the POV to herself, instead of being the prop to a guy’s storyline, only to be discarded later after her use is run out. Vick, here, gets to deal with her own turmoils and tragedies and struggles, being our lens into the Breakers as a woman actively part of the rough-and-tumble of it. I could be wrong, and Abercrombie could horribly disappoint me by killing off Vick early, but she absolutely feels like a deliberate second chance with Cathil. And, you know what? I’m all for it. Vick’s hardened in a way that the earlier POVs just aren’t and that’s equal parts intriguing and tragic.

Grise spun around as the door squealed open, but it was only Sibalt come at last, Moor big and dour at his shoulder. He planted his fists on the table and took a heavy breath, that noble face of his sadly sagging.

“What is it?” asked Tallow, in a tiny voice.

“They hanged Reed,” said Sibalt. “They hanged Cudber. They hanged his daughter.”

Grise stared at him. “She was fifteen.”

The Breakers from Orso’s chapter. You know how I said that this Breakers plotline feels different from the Tanner plotline back then? This is why. Abercrombie doesn’t let us forget that the commonfolk victims have personhood and names. They were people and not checklists to note off a coming-of-age heroic quest list. This is what happens when you give vent and voice to the working class people such royalty-homogenized stories use to prop up a king-in-the-making.

What happens when you take off the royalty lens and put a commonfolk lens onto a fantasy story. You’re pressed against all the injustices the royalty’s tools have perpetuated, committed, all for the status quo to stay.

Also, dang, even Grise is horrified that they hung a child. Not as hard as she thinks she is, huh.

“What for?” asked Tallow.

“Just for talking.” Sibalt put his hand on the boy’s thin shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Just for organising. Just for trying to get workers to stand together and speak with one voice. That’s treason now.”

D’awww, Sibalt.

Part of why I don’t particularly like privileged royal twats is that when you compare the hardships of them to the very real threat of death, just for wanting social advancement and a bit more rights that the royalty and nobility enjoy effortlessly, that commonfolk face, my sympathy generally runs drier for those twats when common children are getting hanged for wanting better. Hence, why I loved that moment in The Blade Itself where Ardee tears into Jezal for being a giant baby about having to work hard for once.

But yes, let too much dissent like that thrive, and you allow such rebellious thoughts build up. You don’t put out the fires of revolution swift enough, and it spreads too fast and much for you to smother down the road. So, you stomp it out as soon as possible. You make examples out of the dissidents, so you put the fear into the rest of the common people.

“Then the time for talk’s fucking past!” snarled Grise.

But, at some point, you don’t engender fear so much as deep anger.

Vick was angry as anyone. But she’d learned in the camps that every feeling is a weakness. You have to lock your hurt away, and think about what comes next. “Who did they know about?” she asked.

There’s a very workmanlike quality to how Vick operates. There’s a no-frills attitude that pervades her entire POV, few details on the environment she’s in, just the important details of people’s actions and what’s said between the Breakers there. She’s very no-nonsense, allowing for her anger, but refusing to have it define her actions. Not if it overrides her thinking and plotting capabilities. In that sense, she very much reminds me of the practicality of Logen and Glokta from the first trilogy.

You have to be realistic.

Vick looked from her fist to her eye. “Whatever names they knew, they’ll have given up.”

“Not Cudber. He wouldn’t.”

“Not even when they put the irons to his daughter?” Grise had nothing to say to that, shock gradually wiping the anger off her face. “Whatever names they knew, they’ll have given up. Lots of other names, too, ’cause once you run out of truth, you start spilling lies.”

Moor shook his big lump of a head. “Not Reed.”

“Yes, Reed, Cudber, his daughter, yes, you or me or anyone. The Inquisition’ll come for whoever they knew about, and soon. So who did they know about?”

There’s a lot to be said about how much torture doesn’t work as a method of gaining information. And Abercrombie’s pretty clear-eyed about it as a tool that Glokta mainly uses it as a method of gaining confessions, rather than truth. Not to mention how much Glokta spoke of his own experiences in truth and how much, after he ran out of truth, he lied out of his ass and got nowhere. And, for most Inquisitors, the amount of bodies they make without substantial gain makes a greater point that Abercrombie really doesn’t believe torture necessarily works.

... There can be a point of criticism that Abercrombie still has Glokta capable of extracting truth out of his victims for plot reasons, thus still validating a sense of torture working, and I can see that as a problem. Which is partly why I love this acknowledgement that torture will not work and you can easily get a mixture of lies along with the truth, depending on what the victims think the captors want to hear. It’s a very stripped-down, sober look at torture as an institutional tool of the government from the side of those who might be next under the knife.

And no amount of willpower can prepare you for the very real and visceral reality of systematic disfigurement. The slow and sure breakdown of one’s body and spirit and mental strength. Anyone can break.

“Who the fuck are you to give orders?” Grise leaned down over her with a stabbing finger. “You’re newest here!”

“So maybe I’m thinking most clearly.” Vick let her hand lie on her belt buckle where her brass knuckles were hidden. She didn’t rate Grise much of a threat, for all her bulk. People who shout a lot tend to take a while working up to more. But Vick was ready to put her down if she had to. And when Vick put someone down, she made sure they went down hard.

And that’s what makes Vick so dangerous in this world, just like Logen:

Logen shrugged. Hard words are for fools and cowards. Calder might have been both, but Logen was neither. If you mean to kill, you’re better getting right to it than talking about it. Talk only makes the other man ready, and that’s the last thing you want. So Logen said nothing. Calder could take that for weakness if he pleased, and so much the better. Fights might find Logen depressingly often, but he was long, long past looking for them.

—The Blade Itself, First of the Magi

Both hardened and knowing not to give away their weaknesses, knowing when to put someone down for good. Just a fascinating contrast to the more naive and young charges of past chapters, Vick is.

Lucky for Grise, Sibalt laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and eased her back. “Vick’s right. I have to get out of Adua. Just as soon as we strike our blow.” And Moor slid out a dirty paper and unrolled it across the table. A map of the city. Sibalt tapped a spot in the Three Farms. Not far from where they’d started building that new canal. “The Hill Street Foundry.”

“Though Hill Street’s gone,” said Moor, in that plodding way he had, “since they pulled it down to build the Foundry.”

“They’re fitting new engines there,” said Sibalt.

Tallow nodded. “I passed ’em on the way. Engines that’ll put two hundred men and women out of work, I hear.”

I’ve read about how new technologies are going to replace some workers, leaving them out of a job. Now, of course, it makes perfect sense for companies to seek out new improvements that net them more profits, but without the social conscience and the consideration that you can train those old employees to work the new tools, you’re just left with money as the only bottom line, leaving countless souls helpless and scrambling without the job security that held up their families, their mental health, their very survival.

Industrial or contemporary age, human nature and greed really doesn’t change.

“We’re going to blow the lot to hell,” said Grise. “With Gurkish Fire.”

More signs of technological progression, what with Gurkish Fire being more commonplace nowadays since the ol’ days of the last Union-Gurkish War. Coming off The Heroes’ death tubes, this isn’t a surprise, but it’s definitely a nice continuity of Bayaz’s experiments with gunpowder.

I wonder if those death tubes got better... you’d think they’d be a leg-up, technologically, against Monza’s army, yet Terez said that didn’t go well...

“Well, you can stop worrying, ’cause it comes straight from Valbeck,” said Grise, smug as a king’s tailor. “Straight from the Weaver himself—”

“Shush,” hissed Sibalt. “Best if no one knows more than they have to. Don’t worry, the powder’s good.”

Grise slapped her fist into her palm. “A blow for the common man, eh, brothers?”

“Aye,” said Moor, slowly nodding his big head. “We’ll strike a spark.”

“And the spark’ll start a fire,” said Sibalt.

Vick sat forward. “If we do this, people get hurt. People get killed.”

“Only those that deserve it,” said Grise.

“Once the killing starts, it rarely sticks to those who deserve it.”

(arches an eyebrow) The Weaver? Aw, shit, is this like the Tanner all over again? Is Bayaz pulling the strings of another peasant rebellion, just to give a decisive victory to the royals? I like Jezal, and I don’t even hate Orso that much, but this will right piss me off if that happens.

I hope Yoru Sulfur, if he’s doing the Tanner bit under a different title, gets blown up by Gurkish Fire instead.

... And that last exchange is ultimately the sticking point. Revolutions are messy, messy business, and, as much as you want to keep the deaths solely on those who’ll deserve it, collateral damage is inevitable. Everyone who participates in one can die, and die ignobly.

Ultimately, I believe that revolutions are necessary, it’s what happens when you push around oppressed people so much their corpses pile up high as mountains and they cannot bear to be silent, and I refuse to wag my finger at them. Just because there’ll be blood to be had in revolutions doesn’t mean the status quo isn’t supported by gears and cogs, rusty with blood. Sometimes, inaction is a greater crime than wanting blood against those who operate the great machines.

That being said, I am all for everyone in a revolution being aware of the potential costs and trying not spill more blood than needed. But, well... easier said than done, right?

“You scared?”

“If you’re not scared, you’re mad or stupid, and there’s no place for either on a task like this. We need to plan every detail.”

As Logen would tell you:

The Northman chuckled. “Fearlessness is a fool’s boast, to my mind. The only men with no fear in them are the dead, or the soon to be dead, maybe. Fear teaches you caution, and respect for your enemy, and to avoid sharp edges used in anger. All good things in their place, believe me. Fear can bring you out alive, and that’s the very best anyone can hope for from any fight. Every man who’s worth a damn feels fear. It’s the use you make of it that counts.”

—Before They Are Hanged, Fear

Courage or strength isn’t defined by the absence of fear, it’s acting in spite of it. It’s using fear to work for you, carrying you to survive through sharpening your mind, your senses, and using it to your advantage.

Grise sneered her disgust. “All you ever fucking talk about is the risks!”

“Someone needs to. This has to be something we choose, not something we blunder into ’cause we’re sore and can’t think of anything better to do with ourselves.” She looked around those four faces, strange in the flickering light of the cellar. “This is what you all want, is it?”

Honestly, she’s right. Vick’s the one there pointing out that you can’t be a bunch of angry children playing with matches. She’s the only one right now speaking how to be mindful of starting a revolution, blessings and curses. If the Breakers are meant to be the spark to a great fire, to be a movement that’s meant to endure, they have to intend this and plan accordingly.

And they have to commit to it. All of it. No backing down.

“It’s what I fucking want,” said Grise.

“It’s what I want,” said Sibalt.

“Aye,” rumbled Moor.

Heh. I love how economic to their characters these responses are. Grise’s the heated, angry one who wants to fight back, no caution, Sibalt’s more measured and calm about how the cause needs to move and operate, and Moor’s just the big, slower musclehead. In fact, I generally like how this chapter gets across the different attitudes of the respective Breakers there. They all have skin in the game, but they’re different people with separate thoughts and input in going about breaking things.

She looked at Tallow last. He couldn’t be older than fifteen himself, and might only have had three good meals in that whole stretch. Reminded her of her brother, a little. Those skinny wrists sticking from frayed sleeves just a touch too short. Trying to put a hard face on but beaming fears and doubts out like a lighthouse through those big damp eyes.

“There’s a Great Change coming,” he said, finally. “That’s what I want.”

Is that a crack in the armor, Vick? Harder to suppress your feelings when reminders are right before your eyes. And, man, Tallow’s a brave little boy who shouldn’t have to commit to a fight that might kill him without remorse, given he found out about Cudber’s daughter’s hanging just a short while ago.

I hope he survives, but Abercrombie isn’t so gentle. So it goes, with hopes.

Vick smiled a grim smile. “Well, if I learned one thing in the camps, it’s that talking isn’t enough.” She realised she’d closed her fingers to make a fist. “You want a thing, you have to fight for it.”

Not as hard as you make yourself out to be, huh, Vick. Not as empty as you make yourself out to be, if even you’re getting carried away by the spirit of revolution. Other than that, damn straight. There’s a time for talk, and there’s a time for a fight.

She stayed straddling him for a while afterwards, his chest pressed against hers with each snatched breath. Kissing at his lip. Biting at it. Then with a grunt, she slid off him, rolled onto her side next to him on the narrow bed, dragging the blankets up over her bare shoulder. It felt chill now they were done, frost showing in the smudges of lamplight at the corners of the little window.

Wow, this book is just way more hornier than The Blade Itself. I mean, I don’t really mind, especially since this reads as more wholesome and sex for wanting it, rather than more abusive, like the first trilogy’s sex scenes, but wow.

Finally, he turned towards her. “Sorry I couldn’t step in with Grise—”

“I can look after myself.”

Sibalt snorted. “No one better. I’m not sorry ’cause I think you need my help. I’m sorry I can’t give it. Better if they don’t know we’re…” He slipped his hand up onto her ribs, rubbing at that old burn on her side with his thumb, trying to dig up the right word for what they were. “Together.”

“In here, we’re together.” She jerked her head towards the warped door in the warped frame. “Out there…” Out there, everyone stood on their own.

Whole swathes of Vick’s mindset just leaches so much warmth out of me. It’s such a cold, and dispassionate “everyone out for themselves” mindset that the camps instilled into her, but this? I’m glad Vick has some measure of happiness in her life, having someone by her side, at least.

He frowned at the little gap of coarse sheet between them as if it was a great divide that could never be crossed. “Sorry I can’t tell you where the Gurkish Fire comes from.”

“Best if no one knows more than they have to.”

“It’ll work.”

“I believe you,” she said. “I trust you.” Vick trusted no one. She’d learned that in the camps, along with how to lie. Learned to lie so well, she could take one tiny sliver of truth and beat it out, like the goldsmiths beating a nugget of gold into leaf, till it could cover a whole field of lies. Sibalt didn’t doubt her for a moment.

(arches an eyebrow) I’m reminded of Ferro’s belief of the word trust here:

“Stay with us. Give it a few days. If you don’t change your mind, well, I’ll help you pack. You can trust me.” Trust was a word for fools. It was a word people used when they meant to betray you. If he moved forward a finger’s width she would sweep the sword out and take his head off. She was ready.

—Before They Are Hanged, The Thing About Trust

But why would Vick betray Sibalt? Isn’t she just as committed to the Breakers cause as he is? Who would she betray him to? Is Sibalt a Breaker rogue element that someone asked Vick to watch after? If so, who? She can’t go to the Inquisition, considering her history with the camps, so maybe a Breaker higher-up Sibalt doesn’t answer to?

In any case, so much for happiness, Vick. And poor Sibalt, if Vick's going to betray him. He’s so sweet to her and respects her so...

“I wish I’d met you sooner,” he said. “Things might be different.”

“You didn’t and they’re not. So let’s take what we can get, eh?”

“By the Fates, you’re a hard case, Vick.”

“We’re none of us hard as we seem.” She slipped her hand around the back of his head, through the dark hair scattered with grey, held it firm, looked him in the eye and asked one more time. “You’re sure, Collem? You’re sure this is what you want?”

(jaw drops) Oh my god. Yeah, this puts the nail on the idea that Vick = Improved Cathil wasn’t intentional. Another Collem and another victim of the Angland camps. Except this Collem doesn’t treat her like a vessel for his own issues, unlike West did. Oh, Collem, you already met Vick once sooner, in the pages of Before They Are Hanged instead. Except, now, it’s flipped, with Vick as the POV, and Collem as the love interest as a reflection of her character.

I LOVE HOW MUCH ABERCROMBIE REMIXES HIS OLD SHIT BETTER, YES!

“Don’t really matter what we want, does it? Bigger things than our future to consider. We can strike a spark that’ll set a fire burning. One day, there’ll be a Great Change, Vick. And folk like you and me will get our say.”

“A Great Change,” she said, trying to sound like she believed it.

Sibalt’s a true believer to the core, but Vick? She’s been beaten too badly by the camps to necessarily buy into the shiny ideals of that wholesale. She’s endured Inquisition care too long to think this will be as glorious as what Sibalt thinks. She believes in the cause, but she’s got a more cynical head about it, wearier and sadder for it.

“You should come with me.”

She should’ve kept silent on that, too. Instead, she found she’d asked, “Where would we go?”

A grin spread across his face. Seeing it made her smile. Her first in a while. Hardly felt like her mouth should bend that way.

There’s so much of Vick that feels so... hollow or restrained that glimpses and cracks in her voice like this really stuck out. And I think she actually loves Sibalt beyond the confines of taking him along, only to betray him. Just that made her smile bit. Like she didn’t intend to, but couldn’t help herself. She has so few opportunities for happiness, I sense.

Few of the characters in this series do.

The frame groaned as he reached down beside the bed and came back up with a battered old book. The Life of Dab Sweet by Marin Glanhorm.

“This again?” asked Vick.

“Aye, this.” It fell open at an etching across both pages. As though it was often opened there. A rider alone, staring out across a sweep of endless grass and endless sky. Sibalt held that drawing at arm’s length as if it was a view spread out in front of them, whispered the words like a magic spell. “The Far Country, Vick.”

“I know,” she grunted. “It says under the picture.”

“Grass for ever.” He was half-joking. But that made him half-serious. “A place where you can go as far as your dreams can take you. A place where you can make yourself anew. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Hah! The biography Sworbreck derided!

On a more somber note, there’s something to be said about how even a fantasy, a falsehood, can inspire us. Dab Sweet himself pointed out that his exploits were blown up beyond his capacity and he ended up having to live with the weight of all that he never did, but just because we know things to be false doesn’t mean we can’t want for better and more, right? It’s part of why we dream and yearn beyond our reaches. Abercrombie once talked about how you have to hit upon truth to impact your readers, well, the truth is, a fantasy can propel us to action, to want for better for ourselves and others.

“Aye, I guess.” She realised she’d reached towards that drawing with one hand, as if she might touch anything there but paper, and snatched it back. “But it’s a made-up drawing in a book full o’ lies, Collem.”

“I know,” he said, with a sad smile, like thinking about it was a fun game to play, but just a game. He flipped the book shut and tossed it back down on the boards. “Guess there comes a time you have to give up on what you want and make the best of what you’re given.”

Wanting that life too, Vick, no matter how much you consciously shut it down? But they have to make the best out of reality, no matter how tempting the fantasy is.

You two are going to make me cry, damn it.

“When we strike that spark,” he murmured, voice loud in her ear, “it’ll change everything.”

“No doubt,” said Vick.

Another silence. “It’ll change everything between us.”

“No doubt,” said Vick, and she slipped her fingers through his and pressed his hand tight to her chest. “So let’s take what we can get. If I learned one thing in the camps, it’s that you shouldn’t look too far ahead.”

Chances are you’ll see nothing good there.

Ouch. Full-blown pessimism from a childhood in the camps. No hope enters, no conscious dreams, because all they do is invite misery and broken optimism.

Just. Damn.

As a chapter, The Breakers is a set-up one. Going into the details of future events and dropping intriguing seeds like what the deal with the Weaver and the Vick/Sibalt. But, at the same time, it’s a first lens into the common people, and how much they’re varied in character and thoughts and are thinking through (or not) the consequences of revolution. In short, it’s putting faces and a name to the Breakers, extending to even the victims of those hangings in Orso’s chapter, which is why it makes sense to put this right after that one. It’s definitely a chapter that isn’t self-contained, but it’s interesting and a refreshing glimpse into the working class folk.

As a character, Vick is... depressing. In an intended way, of course, but there’s a hardness to her that the younger POVs thus far just don’t possess, a weariness that the younger generation will gain once they’ve been through enough hardship like she had. In a way, I come back to this idea of Vick being negative space. Whereas the other POVs so far have had the coddled and pampered upbringings to whine and laugh, and take joys in comforts, both small and large, and have parents who care about them... Vick got stripped of all that in the camps long ago, and this is the kind of person that comes out of those circumstances. Hollowed out. She makes for an intriguing contrast to the other characters, and while I can’t say she’s more interesting than Savine and, maybe, Orso, she’s a necessary lens into the revolutionary end of the Breakers, while possessing a practicality that calls back to the first trilogy’s adults and a vulnerability in the cracks of her POV, that makes her rather refreshing to read about.

And, as a re-do of a first trilogy female vessel character? Yeah, it’s very appreciated. Thanks, Abercrombie!

PART I

Chapter One: Blessings and Curses Chapter Two: Where the Fight’s Hottest Chapter Three: Guilt Is a Luxury Chapter Four: Keeping Score Chapter Five: A Little Public Hanging Chapter Six: The Breakers Chapter Seven: The Answer to Your Tears Chapter Eight: Young Heroes Chapter Nine: The Moment

#a little hatred #a little hatred spoilers #the age of madness #the first law #joe abercrombie #vick dan teufel #a little hatred part I

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lostinthemazecalledmyhead · 7 years

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Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight part nine

Part one Lost in another land

It’s about landing in the enchanted forest and doing business with Hook and who knows becomming more than just business partners? ( it’s a mix between the Once upon a time series and the J.M Barrie novel Peter Pan. It’s not essential to know both, as long as you know who hook is ;)

I started to drift off, but was rudely woken by a sharp pain in my lower back. “Fuck.” Rubbing my eyes I slowly opened them to find myself believing they were still closed and I had in fact fallen asleep. “Bloody hell.” The words slipped my mouth as I looked up around me, pushing myself up with my lower arms on the hard wooden floor. “If you hadn’t looked like a lady, your mouth would have made me think you were a sailor.” A voice spoke behind me.

I look behind me and see two black leather boots that belonged to a man in black pants and a just as dark blouse. Swiftly I jump up and dust off my jeans and t-shirt. His eyebrow goes up as he studied me with an evil smirk. “Even though I would never turn down the company of a lovely woman, I must ask you why you are on board of my ship.”

It doesn’t matter how much I want it to be, this isn’t real. There is no logical explanation to why I’m suddenly on a pirate ship in the middle of nowhere in an completely different age of time. The man, or rather pirate, standing in front of me was rather handsome. Some dark facial hair, impressive but minor scar on the cheek and beautiful blue eyes.

“That’s gross.” I said to his remark about the women. He seemed surprised by my comment, but I continued before he could. “As to you are asking me why I’m here, I suppose you aren’t the one who brought me here. You see I have lost my memory and only remember waking up on your ship.” Before he spoke he studied me, probably wondering if I was tricking him. “Then you probably don’t mind going on a little trip.” “Wait, what do you mean ‘little trip’?” “We have to go to another haven and you are coming with us.” He said. “No, I’m not going with you!” I said slowly and firmly. He ignored my words and gave orders to his crew. “So what? You’re just going to abduct me?” I asked and started to make way to the side of the ship. The pirate appeared in front of me and told me to stop. “Get out of my way.” I said and tried to move past him. To avoid me getting past him and of the ship he blocked me with his arm. I gave a light shriek as I saw the hook in the place where his hand should have been. I looked at him in terror and whispered his name: “Hook.” “So, you’ve heard of me?” He asked quite pleased with his reputation. “You are captain James hook aren’t you?” I asked still shocked to what I had come to find out. “In the flash.” He said. I saw the bay slowly getting further and further away. I had been so distracted that I hadn’t realized that the ship was moving. “This is just a dream.” I mumbled to myself. “Dream or not, come with me to my cabin and we can talk about this.” Hook seemed polite. Just like in the story I knew. Polite, but vicious. I was to intrigued to say no, so I walked with him to his cabin. All of his crew tried to hide their stares, but to me it was obvious.

Hook’s cabin wasn’t that much different than I had imagined. Broad glass windows, big desk and in the right corner some storage room and on the left side was a bed.

Hook walked past me and opened up a bottle of something that smelled like strong liquor. Great for the pirate stereotype. “So… What do you want to know, because I’m quite sure I’m wondering the same things as you are.” I took a seat in the chair opposed to his desk.

“You really are something, aren’t you?” Hook took a sip and again studied me. “Want some?” He asked gesturing to the bottle on the desk.

“No, thanks I’m fine.” I don’t know what kind of diseases that would give me.

“How about this? You tell me something about you, I tell you something about me.” Hook suggested.

“No need.”

He didn’t seem that amused anymore. “And why is that?”

“Because I already know everything about you, Hook.” I crossed my legs and stared at him.

Hook sat down and smiled for a bit. “That’s interesting.” He placed his feet on the desk. “Amuse me, love.”

“You lost your hand to the crocodile that still haunts you for just another taste of where it came from. Your enemy is Peter Pan, because he is the one who fed your hand to the crocodile. You’re left hand is the irish Smee. Then there is noodler, with his hands on backwards, Bill Jukes with every inch of him tattooed, Alf Mason whose mother sold him for a bottle of musket. And then we have you, Hook. Hook used to have black curls, eyes as blue as forget me nots and in which sometimes red spots can be seen as he plunges his hook in you.” Hook was about to speak but I silenced him with the wave of my hand and continued my story. “That isn’t all. I haven’t told you about Wendy. Wendy Moira Angela Darling, the sweet little girl Peter took with him to Neverland once. The one which you tried to turn into a pirate and make her tell where Peter’s secret hide out was, so you could seek your revenge. And which you almost did, but of course, the villain was defeated, as always.”

Hook stared at me. It took him a while to find words. “You’re one hell of a story teller, miss..”

“Donovan.” I introduced myself. “Emily Donovan.”

“But I’m sorry to disappoint you that only half of that story is true.” Hook’s face returned amused.

“Pan did feed my hand to the crocodile, but you don’t know half the story behind it. Still it does intrigue me to where you’ve come up with this version.”

“Why should I tell you?” I stand up and slowly move towards the shelfs. “Give me one good reason.” I said looking at him over my shoulder.

“You got a hell of a lot to explain, love. Why are you dressed like that? You don’t seem from around.”

“Why Is that so?” I ask him while I look at the stuff on the shelfs.

“You are dressed different you act and talk different.”

“Is that a bad thing?” I ask glancing at his face.

“I haven’t decided yet, but it sure is refreshing.” Hook answered.

“I am indeed not from around here.” I admit slowly. “And if this is not a dream, what it must be, than I have traveled through some kind of portal or something. Because the land where I live is much much further in the future. And it’s also kind of real as to where you are just a fairytale kids are told.” I had decided that it couldn’t hurt being a bit open with him. And it might as well spice the story up a little.

“And I am supposed to believe that?” Hook asked.

“Well I thought you wanted the truth so I gave it to you. It’s your own choice to what you do with it.” I walked back to the desk and pushed his feet off so I could sit on it. I lean in to make my words more believable. “But I’m just warning you: do not make me your enemy.” Our faces are close to half a meter apart. I’m sensing he is just enjoying this.

He moves in closer, our faces are so close. “I wouldn’t think about it.” Hook said looking into my eyes and then at my lips. I knew what his next move would be so I stood up and sat down in my chair again, waiting for him to speak.

“I’m going to make you my ally.”

“And tell me exactly how are you going to do that?” I asked him.

“There is some business, but I need someone to distract someone so someone can do something.”

“Oh, yeah, of course! I completely understand.” I said sarcastic, mocking his vagueness.

“I’m only telling you the details if you’re in.” Hook doesn’t seem anyhow affected by my mocking.

“Why would I?”

“You need me.”

“I don’t need you.” But as he looked at my clothes I came to realize that I didn’t know where I was and that my distinctive clothes could get me in a lot of trouble.

“You can stay on board of the Jolly Roger and we supply you with food and clothes in return.” Hook offered.

“How can I accept a deal if I don’t know it’s content?” I realized I was about to give in, but did I have much of a choice? I could always steal a dress that is drying in the wind and from there on find my way.

“There is a man that has something I need. So all you have to do is distract him while I take it.” Hook explained carefully picking his words.

“By taking you mean steal.” I corrected him. “But it sounds like fun. I’m in.”

Hook was surprised at how easily I gave in, but I’m just always in for an adventure. Hook stood up and walked over to one of his closets, opened it and took out a red dress. “Got a dress for you, so you can distract him.”

“No way in hell I’m wearing that!” I stated.

“Why not?”

“That’s a whores dress, and I don’t know if you hadn’t noticed, but I’m not a whore.”

Hook put the dress back.

“How did you even get that?” I asked but soon realized what the answer was. “You keep the clothes of the whores you sleep with? Filthy pig!”

“I guess I am a pirate.”

“That is not an excuse. Pirates are supposed to be heroic, hot and honorable, with a dark side that intrigues you, but at the same time you know he is not all that bad of a person, but you? You’re disgusting.” I realized I might have watched to many movies. Yeah, that was my thing, movies. I could sit up nights in a row watching movies on my own. And I’d watch the same movies over and over again and could recall every scene. And from one movie, I knew each and every line, my favorite movie, kinda ironic, was peter pan. And here I am, stuck on a ship with captain James Hook. I must admit it’s kinda like a dream come true.

“Well who can deny I’m devilishly handsome?” Hook said with a seductive grin on his face.

“Can we just cut the crap and come to business?” I asked. I had to keep up my dominance, because I had no idea what kinda attitude he would pull towards me if I didn’t. “Here is what we are going to do: you bring me a decent looking dress, I distract him, you steal whatever you want to steal and I get the hell out of there.”

#peter pan #captain hook #hook #hook imagine #imagine #peter pan imagine #disney #fairytale #ouat #once upon a time #ouat imagine #killian jones imagine #disney imagine

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furederiko · 7 years

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The era has changed, so the ways of the past can no longer be applied to solve the same problem! That's the essence of Kyuranger episode 23. The 'Rivalry of the Reds'...

- LOL at that opening intro speech. Spada's blatantly saying that Tsurugi is "so arrogant"! So what's going on with our bossy 'Sleeping Beast'? He is hungry. But instead of stopping down for some chow down, he takes his 'team' (Chef and assistant? Duh!) to... a TV Station. Wait, HUH? Is this a company visit to... TV Asahi? Nope, he's taking over Jark Matter News, and broadcasts a news about his heroic triumphant over Don Armage in the past to the... whole universe. Yes, using his Phoenix Station as the satellite. CONVENIENT! - Lucky is still mulling over Tsurugi's words that they should stop fighting. Of course, the livefeed announcement about Don Armage's secret surprises everyone in the Orion. Fortunately, Balance and Champ have discovered Eris, so hopefully that means they can clarify Tsurugi's bold statement. As soon as they can get her to talk, that is. LOL. Worried that Tsurugi's action might endanger the crew at the TV Station, Commander Xiao immediately dispatches an away team to the Station. - Clearly, Tsurugi's action is pissing off many people. Including Don Armage himself! The Shogun immediately commands his Vice-Shoguns to eliminate him, and the long-necked Tecchu is the first to head out. But publicity-hunter Malistrate Mediatsuyo-Indaver steps in to steal his spotlight before hand, attacking Tsurugi's team, as well as putting the civillians in danger. Precisely like what Xiao has feared. Trivia: Tecchu might be the only one speaking for now, but these three can be considered as 'Special' antagonists. How so? They are voiced by former Sentai heroes! Tecchu is voiced by Hiroshi Tsuchida, a now-regular VA for the franchise who debuted as Saizou/ Ninja Blue in the 1994 "Ninja Sentai Kakuranger". The female one, Akyanba (direct katakana romanization for now, not Over-Time's version), is voiced by Arisa Komiya. Fans would easily recognize her as Youko Usami/ Yellow Buster in the 2012 "Tokumei Sentai Go-Busters". And last but not least, Kukuruga (also, direct katakana romanization) is voiced by Naoya Uchida, the most 'veteran' of the three. He was Tatsuya Midorikawa/ Denzi Green in the 1980 "Denshi Sentai Denziman". Now a prolific stage actor, with "Les Miserables" and "Sakura Taisen V" as some of his most memorable performances. "It's SHOWTIME!!!" XD... - Tecchu's arrival changes thing. The fact that a Vice-Shogun, a higher rank than Menaster is joining the battlefield, means Don Armage is getting serious. But instead of focusing on rescuing the civillians, Phoenix Soldier gets all riled up to fight him. He's hinting that he and Tecchu have a history. They have battled before! But oddly, the latter doesn't seem to have ANY recollections of that. First Don Armage, now Tecchu? What's really happening here. - Tsurugi's action is placing everyone in jeopardy, and Aquila Pink ends up getting injured for shielding a crew member. Obviously, Lucky can't accept his reckless behavior, putting innocent lives in danger. Yet the older Red insists that "You won't be able to save the universe without some sacrifice". OUCH! Basically, it's the 'trolley problem' of saving the greater number of lives. Intriguingly, Tsurugi then tells the story of his old allies, who once acted as 'shield' for him before. One ended up never able to fight again, and another died. Now I don't know about you, but I'm more than certain that one of these two people he's referring about, has since become the new face behind 'Don Armage'. It's almost always, those closest to the hero, right? - Avoiding confrontation (Lucky almost punches him), the gang decides to walk away and return to the Orion. Thankfully they arrive just in time. After going through a bit of... 'situation', Balance and Champ are finally able to convince Eris, and ask her to extract some information to the team. At the same time, Tsurugi opens up about what happened in his past to Raptor and Spada (Yes, Xiao DID send them to do this after all). And well... - Tsurugi is telling the truth. It is confirmed that after gaining immortality from the Phoenix Kyu Globe, he indeed united the universe. He then led 88 Warriors (from each Constellation system) aboard the Argo, to defeat Don Armage whose Jark Matter began disrupting the peace. A battle hard fought that took the lives of almost everyone, Tsurugi ended up sacrificing his immortality by turning it into power to kill Don Armage. Eris then added, that Sir Olion was a surviving member of Tsurugi's force. This is likely the information she wanted to share before, but then the team got distracted by Scorpio. Judging from the silhouette, I think Olion is the one standing on Phoenix Soldier's right. Can we assume that he's the one who could never fight again then? Hmmm... intriguing. Eris assumes that Olion realized Don Armage's revival, and thus entrusted the Carina Kyu Globe in her safekeeping. He was also the one who put the badly injured Tsurugi to cold sleep prior to that. NOTE: Over-Time is still using the romanization 'Sir Orion', but I've decided to use the name 'Sir Olion' anyway, even if to set him apart from the Rebellion's ship. - This is where things get a little... melancholic. Turns out, Tsurugi is telling the Kyurangers to stop fighting, so that they won't suffer the same fate to his 88 Warriors. That's why he wants to handle things on his own. In a way, Tsurugi's harsh attitude is basically meant to protect the Kyurangers! Hold on, is this some kind of... a lone survivor's syndrome then? Aaaawww. But Lucky has a different ideal. He says it out loud to Tsurugi, that the Kyurangers are fighting together, simply because neither one of them can do it alone. An acknowledgement to why all these time, the entire team is needed to take down one Menaster. One is stronger with friends, he means. The power of UNITY!!! Of course... he somehow missed the point that it's exactly what Tsurugi did before with the 88 Warriors. And that it... didn't work. But let's save that discussion for another time... - Interestingly, Lucky's point is then put into solid proof almost immediately. Metal Death Worm that Tecchu sends out, is defeated through a rough co-op of him and Phoenix Soldier. While the other Kyurangers take down Mediatsuyo-Indaver in a very impressive (and neatly choreographed) group effort. Even the giant battle, requires all mechas because a Consumarz is added into the fray. In the end, it's about teamwork all along! WITH Phoenix Soldier among them. LOL. - Just like Ryutei Kyuren-Oh with 3 members absent, this time we're not seeing a complete set of Kyurangers at the battlefield either. Balance and Champ are still in Planet Keel, and Stinger stays behind on the Orion. So Ryutei-Oh heads out with Ophiucus as Scorpius replacement, while Kyuren-Oh with Aquila as Taurus' substitue. And speaking of Aquilla, the long awaited has come. The pink Voyager detaches as arm, and forms... a WING! Giving Kyuren-Oh aerial ability to chase the flying Consumarz. This gimmick was possible from the start, but was never used in the show until now. NOTE: By the way, Ryutei-Oh's combination in this episode with its LightBlue-Purple-Gray color scheme, could be a strong nod to those Extra Heroes on "Kyoryuger". As for Gigant Phoenix... I got very excited about the "Thunderbirds" nod, and the BGM song last week (which is NOT used in this episode... bummer), that I forgot to point out something. Its design is very similar to the style of a Machine Robo Rescue. And if you're looking for a more global comparison, it looks a lot like Transformers, instead of a Super Sentai robo! - Post battle, the friction isn't getting a solution just yet. Tsurugi still goes on his separate way (along with Spada and Raptor, of course). The Rivalry of the Reds is pretty much ongoing, due to their different point of views. However, it seems Lucky begins to warm up to needing the Phoenix, while Tsurugi himself is slowly warming up to having other people around. In fact, the latter's having a sweet 'Legendary Curry' moment with his team! Knowing this, I doubt it'll take long for them to work out their differences...

Overall: Tsurugi's presence continued to disrupt the balance of the show! Not only he's bringing a heft of altered history to the fray, he's also attracting scarier and more powerful enemies. As the kids nowadays are saying, "Things just got REAL". Despite the occasional attempts at humor, this episode felt tense and serious in general. The friction between Tsurugi and the Kyuranger felt loud and clear. But that's exactly why I think it's a great episode! As I've always said, conflict makes people grow, and in this case, it helped the Kyurangers to realize that they are nothing without each other. Next week: Rumble of the Reds. The 12 Stars are alligned... PS: A new trailer for the Summer Movie is shown after the episode. The opening sequence has already included scenes from it too. Not a surprise, because the movie is set to premiere this weekend, on August 5th, 2017. I think this movie looks fun and epic, so if you happen to be in Japan, don't miss it out, okay!

Episode 23 Score: 8,2 out of 10

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All images are screencaptured from the series, provided by the FanSubber Over-Time. "Uchu Sentai Kyuranger" is produced by TOEI, and airs every Sunday on TV-Asahi. Credits and copyrights belong to their respective owners.

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