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#the ballerina arc
rwby-encrusted-blog · 8 months
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This has been rattling around in my head for almost six months, I'm only posting it to free myself of it. Or at least inflict it upon you all.
Toy Jaune, trapped under a milk crate: Pyrrha! I can't do this without you. I need your help!
Toy Pyrrha, strapped to a Firework: I can't help anyone.
Jaune: Sure you can Pyr! get me out of here, I'll cut that rocket off of you, and we'll make a break for Ruby's house!
Pyrrha: Ruby's house, Cinder's house? What's the difference ...
Jaune: Pyrrha! I get you've had a big fall- You must not be thinking clearly!
Pyrrha: No, Jaune, for the first time I am thinking clearly. I'm not a huntress, I'm a just a toy, a stupid little insignificant toy!
Jaune: hey! Being a toy is a lot better than being a "Huntress!"
Pyrrha: Yeah, right.
Jaune: No, It is! Look! Over in that house there's a kid who thinks you are the greatest, and it's not because you're a huntress! It's because you're a toy! You are her toy!
Pyrrha: And why would Ruby want me?
Jaune: Why would Ruby want you?!? Look at you! You're a Pyrrha Nikos! Any other toy would give up their moving parts just to be you! You've got magnets in your hands! A sword and shield! You can climb Fridges! You talk while also being a plushie!
Jaune: Your Spear collapses into a sword! You are a cool toy!
Pyrrha: ...
Jaune: In fact, you're too cool.
Jaune: I mean ... what chance does a toy like me have against a Pyrrha Nikos Combat Plush.
Jaune: ... I'm unlicensed Dime-Store merchandise for a cancelled cartoon. The most I can do is pose and put my sword in my shield. It's a miracle I kept Ruby's attention long enough for Zwei to not chew me to pieces in the first week.
Jaune: ... Why would Ruby ever want to play with me, when She's got you ... I'm the one that should be strapped to that rocket ...
Pyrrha: ... *Stares at her foot, Ruby's name marked across the sole of her boot*
Jaune: ... Listen, Pyr, forget about me. You should get outta here while you can.
Jaune: ...
Jaune: *looks to where Pyrrha was sitting, She's gone*
Jaune: ...
*Shuffle*
Jaune: Wha? Pyrrha?
Pyrrha: *Pushing stuff of the milk crate* C'mon Paladin! There's a kid over in that house who needs us!
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d0eadeer · 17 days
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none of them could give less of a shit 😻🥰
(made by me)
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ellsbclls · 1 year
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imagine a modern!au where abby is a principal dancer in a thriving ballet company, and it’s groundbreaking, seeing that dichotomy —someone so gentle and sinewy, rippling muscle and soft, soft hand — even to you.
you see her stretching in the corner, taut muscles splayed to the highest of heavens, fingers kneading into the flesh that doesn’t quite warm up with the rest, and oh to be the fucking hand that leaves fingerprints along her biceps.
even as you see yourself in the shape of her routine, you can’t bring yourself to say a simple “hey! nice form!” because you know you’ll stumble and fall over all the drool that’s pooled in your fucking mouth. and plus, that would mean speaking to her! let alone acknowledging that she exists, which, as far as she’s concerned, you don’t care to admit! and it rarely bothers her because you’re not the first, nor the last, legacy ballerina to shoot her a wayward glance every time she gets cast as a danseur, but sometimes there’s something in your eyes that she can’t quite pick out. something hot and fast like a flash in a pan, and it makes her wonder.
and then you’re cast alongside each other in a production of romeo and juliet :)
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silvercrane14 · 4 months
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miku,,,,
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[Image ID: A page of pencil and highlighter drawings of Hatsune Miku, depicted as a ballerina. She wears a leotard and a pink tutu-esque skirt. The only colored things are the skirt, her ballet shoes (also pink), and her hair, which is done in two high pigtails with bangs. Her hair is blue. The drawings are all very sketchy. /End ID]
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poign-ant · 10 months
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Dancing butterflies 🦋🕺🏼
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abbey-abdominal · 26 days
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WOO!! GOT MY SUMMER CHILD GOLDEN RETRIEVER SISTER TO AGREE TO WATCH HAZBIN HOTEL WITH ME! Let’s see how this goes…
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thingsdavidlikes · 7 months
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Arc of the Dancer by Doug McMinimy
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coincasual · 1 year
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more ballet au doodles
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warwickroyals · 8 months
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I’m totally not going to make a collection based on which fashion trend gets voted the ugliest🧍🏾‍♀️
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latibvles · 1 year
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I could be normal about my OCs or, in a more alternative and fun way, I can start crying over things I initially wrote as one-off mini headcanons that now have deeply interconnected into the overall behavior of the character
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staycatcher · 1 year
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Oh no>:(
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emilybeemartin · 5 months
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Boromir Lives AU: We Didn't Have a Choice
Alternate title is They're All Just Kids With PTSD, Your Honor
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This (ridiculously long? omg why so long, I did not mean for it to be this long) comic is a good example of how my plotlines usually develop---I'll write what I think is a self-contained story and then realize there are whole new narratives beyond it. This is how my first novel, Woodwalker, became a trilogy---I was writing it as a standalone novel until about the last three or four chapters, when I realized I'd kicked off a whole new series of political events. For this AU, I was thinking about how it would feel for Elboron to grow up in the long shadow of his parents, and idolizing his uncle(s) while also wondering how he'd ever measure up. For Boromir, I think he'd be so fulfilled to see his nephew get to come of age in a gentler world that he and his brother and all the others didn't get. Though if he had a future as anything other than a soldier I'm pretty sure it would be as a TikTok star showing us how to create a perfect ballerina bun. Show us your products, Boromir, dang.
This comic also reminded me that I clearly have a distinct set of author tropes because this has STRONG Veran vibes (Sunshield, Floodpath), with a young character feeling overwhelmed with the legacies of his parents. This is a bit of an opposite arc, though--- Veran wants to follow in his mother's footsteps but isn't allowed to, and so gravitates toward diplomacy, while Elboron feels pressured to take up soldiering like his namesake but would rather study language. Come to think of it, the manuscript I turned into my agent a few weeks ago also has some of these themes, which either means I need to stop writing quest follow-ups or start a Protagonists With Heroes For Parents support group.
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Boromir Lives: Helm's Deep
Boromir Lives: Whump-Time After Pelennor
Boromir Lives: GO TO SLEEP
Boromir Lives: Aragorn's Coronation
Boromir Lives: Faramir and Eowyn's Wedding
Boromir Lives: It's a BABY
Boromir Lives: High Uncle of the White Tower
Boromir Lives: The Haircuts
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laws-long-ass-sword · 10 months
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Tryna' explain to people that One Piece is on a completely different hemisphere from other Shonen like: There's an arc where's Luffy breaks into a prison that's actually Dante's hell, and there's a secret gay club inside it run by Dr. Frank-N-Furter and their posse of Drag Queens and furries. With the help of a clown and a flamboyant ballerina, Luffy then liberates the entire prison so they can all go fight in a war that the government has started to secure their dystopian tyrannical rule over the world <3
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mydearlybeloathed · 4 days
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𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄, 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐄?
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the grace of the sword and the stage come together as the strawhats' swordsman and dancer fall in love.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: roronoa zoro x fem!dancer!reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3k
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: fluff, reader is a ballerina, mention of alcohol, abusive employer near the beginning, not beta read
𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: la seine
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the first time he saw you, he was in denial of the fact that he was, once again, lost.
it wasn't his fault! nami ditched him in favor of viewing the rows and rows of stalls featuring all sorts of glittering jewels, and before he knew it, zoro was at a loss on where he was.
choosing to wander till he found something familiar to guide him back to the ship, he was drawn to the sweet sound of laughter, clinking glass, and soft music.
without looking up to read the sign hanging over the boisterously decorated building taking up most of the left side of the street. it was probably just a bar anyway.
so he slipped inside, meaning to find a place at a counter to order a drink, when he found himself running into a podium and faced with a woman in a suit, her expression sultry as she said, "here for the last show?"
Zoro blinked down at her, lips parting. He wasn't about to let her make him look stupid, so he settled her with a stern glower and nodded.
"You're just in luck," she purred. "We've got one last seat, and you're just in time to see our principal lady."
"Right," he nodded once more and, after casting a look at the enticing exit, turned back to the hostess. "You've got booze?"
Her smile glimmered. "Just ask and ye shall receive. We have an assortment of liquors here at Le Palais de Cerise!"
Zoro followed her down a dim hallway into an even dimmer grand room. It looked something like an opera hall, with tiered rows of half-moon booths each facing a large stage.
Blue lighting shined from lanterns hung on the ceiling, casting the place in an eerie yet mystifying glow. All around the booths and tables were occupied by guests dressed much finer than Zoro, sipping on glasses of fine wine and nibbling on hors d'oeuvres.
The hostess brandished an arm as she showed him to a smaller booth at the very edge of the third tier away from the stage, closer to the center aisle running between two halves of the room. It was a pretty good view, nearly right in the middle of the stage.
"Thanks," he muttered distractedly, slipping into the booth and slouching instantly. "Get me a bottle of sake, yeah?"
The woman grinned widely before turning her back, her smile falling into a sneer. Now alone, Zoro got comfortable on the cushion of the seat, deciding this place wasn't too bad of a napping spot, when the lights brightening the stage faded to black.
Violins and flutes started to sing from a pit around the edge of the stage, coming alive as all conversation died out. Zoro stiffened, shifting to sit up right as his hands fell to his swords at his side.
"I hear it's her last show," sighed a young man to his friend at the neighboring booth. "We're insanely lucky."
Zoro's eyes adjusted to the dark just as a spotlight shone down on the parting ruby curtain, and out came a dozen girls dressed as the petals of a flower, twirling on the very tips of their toes. Instantly, Zoro was fascinated.
How they hopped around and danced like that without breaking something, he hadn't a clue. Zoro was on the edge of his seat before he really realized it, and barely made a sound of acknowledgement when a bottle of sake was placed beside him.
He came back to reality long enough to take a long drink, yet when his gaze returned to the stage, the music tingled to a suspenseful, drawn out theme. The flower petals stood in two diagonals forming a V and arced their arms around to present whatever was approaching.
From the left of the stage rushed a woman donned in a dress of dark red, the skirt branching out at her waist and barely dipping with each of her movements. Her bodice was lined with black and gold lace leading up to a sweetheart neckline. Not a hair on her head was out of place. Her every movement had a purpose.
The ballerina was perfection on earth. Zoro nearly wanted to remove his gaze from her, lest he taint this apparent angel.
She nearly floated with how she glided her feet, coming to a graceful halt at center stage, at the peak of the petals' V, and presented her arms as if to say here I am!
All around the audience applauded her for her presence alone, and Zoro found himself lazily meeting his palms together as well.
The music swelled as she extended her arms to cross and pointed out a toe, hopping forward as her arms gradually lifted over her head, before she leapt into an arabesque and pattered across the stage.
Behind her, the V of petals crossed the stage to the opposite side they were on, halting in unison on a tall and extended pique.
The main ballerina continued to glide this way and that, commanding the entire room, no fault in her every twirl, leap, and scurry.
Throughout the entire performance, Zoro watched dutifully, his attention never once departing from you.
And upon the stage, with the blinding lights casting the audience in a gray shadow, you swore you felt something tangibly heavy in the way they looked at you now, though you couldn't place a finger on why.
You only knew that when the music climaxed and faltered, and the curtain lowered on you and your friends, that as the lights grew dim, you caught sight of someone leaving the theater, a set of swords glinting at their side.
It was no surprise when flowers upon flowers arrived at your little room near the back of the theater.
You were known across the city and ones around it for your grace. People came from every which way to watch you dance the same dances, on the same stage, with the same people night after night after night.
You were bored, to say the least.
For ages, you ached for the thrill dance had once brought you. To not know every move by heart, to have something to learn rather than perform out of mere memory.
You missed what it was like to make mistakes, because they made success all the more sweet.
It was why that night was your last performance at Le Palais de Cerise. The next day, you would set sail with a family of merchants you'd met the week prior, and visit lands you'd only ever dreamed of.
Hopefully, some day, you'd find the thrill once again.
But there was Madame Cerise to think of, the owner of the theater hall, and she was not so ready to let her prized ballerina slip away.
"It would be a shame," she said to her brutish son, "if our dear angel was robbed of all her money. How would she pay for escape then?"
Zoro wasn't nearly as drunk as he'd like to be, but he didn't really need the alcohol anymore. Not when all he could think of was how the hell those dancers didn't break their toes.
Looking left and right, ensuring no one was out on the streets with him, he attempted to balance himself on the very tip of his boots, immediately teetering forward and nearly twisting his ankle.
He spit out a curse, pushing back his shoulders only to slump forward again and trudge down the street. The streetlamps flickered here and there, the night breeze chilling his bare arms.
"Stop! Stop, please!"
Zoro whipped around, eyes peeled, and zeroed in on the alleyway ahead to his right. The pleading voice echoed as three burly shadows tripped and stumbled out onto the street, sprinting away.
He was halfway into a pursuit when he caught the tell-tale sound of crying. Faltering to a stop just outside the mouth of the alley, he made out the silhouette of someone in a crumbled heap on the ground.
You glanced up from cradling your skinned and burning palms to your chest, hiccuping. Finding yet another shadow lurking there, you bit back, "I've got nothing left! Run back to Cerise, you--you mutt!"
Well, that didn't exactly make him want to help you, but then, in the dim lamplight, he saw through your tear stained face and found the ballerina who'd enchanted him an hour before.
He didn't know what to do, feeling odd with an unsheathed sword in hand as you glared at him, awaiting his next move. Zoro cleared his throat. "You... danced nice."
You eyes flickered all over him before you broke into yet another round of sobs, somehow managing through it, "Yeah, and I'll be dancing nicely till I'm old and wrinkly and dead. Ugh!"
Clawing at your arms, mumbling more to yourself, "I'm such a fool... Why did I think she'd let me go..."
You were too caught up in picturing the rest of your mundane life to realize Zoro was approaching you, only jerking away from him when he knelt in front of you.
His sword was back in its scabbard, and despite the scar over his eye, the other one was nearly soft. But there was nothing soft in the way he asked you, "Who won't let you go?"
A long story short, le palais de cerise went up in flames a few days after, and you found yourself sailing away not only with the promise of adventure, but with the promise of friendship.
and the hint of something more, judging from how zoro acted around you.
It was comical, really. Once, the swordsman had been a wall of stoicism, never to be toppled. And now this woman with all the grace and poise of a swan comes in, and he’s toppled like a feather in the wind.
Not that the others would complain; he wasn’t so grouchy when you were near, the tautness in his brows softening at the very sound of your voice.
Nami and Robin often teased you about Zoro's little crush, and you never paid them any mind—you’d think twice before admitting to having a soft spot for your crewmate.
Still, it was obvious something was there.
He always tended to be near you whenever he wasn’t training or asleep. Whether you were sitting around reading, or listening to music on a gramophone Nami may or may not have stolen for you, Zoro was likely to be there, laying at your side, content with the company.
You never failed to save him a seat at breakfast, waiting even when the others got up to start working, knowing Zoro would walk in later than the rest all grumpy and tired.
Zoro stood at your side like some kind of guard dog, especially when outside the safety of the ship.
It wasn’t that he thought you couldn’t look after yourself! It’s just, well, you can’t exactly fight.
“So teach me,” you snapped back, not appreciating being treated like glass.
Zoro sputtered, unsure if you’re serious, and promptly sets down his fork in favor of matching your stare from across the table.
Before he could say anything, Robin stood to put up her plate and said, “That’s a good idea. Everyone should be able to defend themself.”
You could have kissed her, grinning as she winked and wandered off. 
“You don’t need to,” Zoro blurted. 
Nami smirked as she took a sip of her water. “Why’s that?”
His reply was instant. “I’ll protect you.”
Your cheeks warmed. “That’s sweet, but you won’t always be there.”
He glared at the prospect, as if to say watch me. 
“If Marimo refuses, I would love to teach you, darling—”
“Shut up!” Zoro faced you, narrowing his eyes at the little smile you gave him. “We start tomorrow.”
Snickering, you lurched forth and pressed a swift kiss to his cheek, jumping to your feet before he could even register what had happened. “Thanks, Zo!”
Whilst you made a hasty exit and Sanji started to yell at Zoro, Nami couldn’t help her excited gape as she locked eyes with Robin. The dark haired woman grinned cheekily, watching Zoro stare blankly into space. 
“She’s got him wrapped around her finger.”
Zoro did not go easy on you, and you didn’t exactly mind too much. 
You wanted to get better. That was the only reason you were out here, in the blazing sun, watching Zoro’s chest as it heaved underneath his thin shirt.
Okay, maybe not the only reason. But the main one was definitely learning to protect yourself! 
You learned quickly, sometimes even beating Zoro out on the deck in the morning, purely excited at the chance to train with him.
He had wandered into the girls room to get you, only to be confused when all he found was Nami yelling at him to get out. 
And when he saw you practicing your form with the sword he’d bought with you on that last island. 
Zoro knew you were graceful. He’d seen it the first time he ever saw you. Grace was a word so wrapped up in his view of you. 
But fuck—you were anyting but graceful with a sword. 
Each of your movements were stiff and rigid and sharp. How hadn’t he noticed it before?
So he came up and, without really thinking, reached around to grab your wrist, taking your elbow in his other hand, caging you between his arms. 
You’re not quite sure how you didn’t go into cardiac arrest.
Only after your eyes met did Zoro realize the predicament he’d gotten himself into—and promptly sprang away from you, complimenting how fast you caught on and beelining back into the ship.
You weren’t sure you could take much more of that. Not before you acted on one of your many urges to kiss him senseless.
Luckily, you didn’t have to wait much longer.
So long of the crew’s teasing, slight grazes of the hand, and longing stares all led up to one night aboard the ship, lost in the music and sea breeze.
Zoro had been trying to take another sip of his drink for a while now, but each time he brought his glass to his lips, his eyes were dragged back to you, and Zoro’s breath hitched as he lowered his hand once more.
You were effervescent, your smile never wavering as you twirled and stomped around to the beat of the melody strumming from Brook’s guitar. You had caught Usopp in a waltz now, dragging him with you as he stumbled to keep up. A laugh bubbled up and out of you, and Zoro’s chest seized. 
Nami rolled her eyes, growing tired of watching Zoro be so hopelessly infatuated. “Would you give it up? Do us all a favor and just tell her already.”
The swordsman barely cast her a glance, finally managing to get some sake down his throat to sooth the anxiety welling in his chest. “No clue what you’re on about.”
“You’re impossible,” she scoffed, standing while setting a hand on his shoulder. “And just plain sad.” Nami had skipped off to take your hand before Zoro could snap back at her, and he watched from his seat as Nami spun you around, dragging another chuckle out of you.
Sighing, Zoro lowered his gaze and settled on remaining seated the whole night, allowing you to have your fun without dampening it with his useless conversations. 
A figure plopped into Nami’s abandoned seat, and he was prepared for another tease, when your voice loftily inquired, “Zoro, you’ve been sad all night.”
Instantly, his head lifted to look at you and your slight smile. Your chest heaved up and down, still exhausted from dancing circles around the deck. He set his glass down, shifting his knees to face yours. “I’m fine. You tired?”
Your huffed sigh was answer enough, pulling a scant grin out of him. Your face lit up at the sight, and your eyes took a slightly warmer tone. “I know your answer already, but do you wanna dance?”
He nearly said what you expected—no—before it sank in that you had expected it. For him to deny you of something you wanted. Zoro’s eyes flickered all over your pretty face, his heart beating fast, and he nodded, much to your surprise.
“Really?” You tried to hold back your smile. “I mean, you don’t have to—”
“I do.”
You nearly squealed right then and there, settling for beaming at him whilst you scooped up his hand and pulled him to his feet. Your smile was coy and his was stifled, but everyone could see it. You took both his hands in yours and leaned back, spinning the both of you around.
From somewhere nearby, Sanji was scoffing and Usopp was whistling, but Zoro hardly even heard the music anymore. All he was conscious of was you and your snickers, of how your touch ignited his skin, of his stumbling feet, of how you drew him closer with a slight tug on his hand and wrung your arms around his neck.
Brook, as if on cue, began to strum a softer song, something akin to a slow dance. It drew a grin on your face, your eyes fluttering closed. Zoro’s heart jumped and his right foot crushed yours. He apologized swiftly as you winced, somehow still giggling at him. Angel, he thought.
Zoro couldn’t breathe. Not when you looked at him like that. His hands froze at his sides before they inched closer to you, hovering over your sides. Your eyes were shut, and he admired you unabashedly, leaning forward till his nose brushed your own, jerking you from your reverie to find him a breath away. 
His eyes widened after locking with yours, sputtering another apology as he attempted to remove himself from your vicinity, cursing himself. Your hands intertwined around his neck, holding him in place as all sense of caution fled your body. One last look into your eyes had Zoro lurching forward, catching your lips and relishing in the feeling of your thumb grazing his cheek. 
How an angel like you could hold a demon like him so lovingly, he wasn't sure. Zoro vowed to spend his life trying to find out, remaining at your side dutifully till the end of his days. You certainly had no objections, doing your best every day to convince him he indeed deserved your love.
The others never let you hear the end of it. Every “about time” made you that much closer to smacking someone upside the head. 
After your feelings were revealed, not much changed. The dynamic was still there, with the added physical intimacy when far from the prying eyes of the others, of course.
Zoro liked to lay his head on your legs while you read, and he’d never say it out loud, but he loved it when you carded your hands lazily through his hair. He didn't exactly need to tell you though; his contented sighs and following snores were enough.
He’s still not much of a dancer, and you respect when he’s just too tired to entertain your twirling and whirling. But sometimes, on days where he’s been up so long he starts to feel energized, he’ll take your hand and drag you onto the floor of whatever bar he’d brought you to. 
He's terrible, finding no rhythm no matter how hard he tries, and he settles for simply swaying along with you.
(You're in no place to tease him for it; you're just as out of place with a sword in hand).
Funny how you both held such grace in your separate fields of passion, yet lost it all the moment you try the other's craft.
Zoro still short-circuited every time your lips brushed his cheek, even if it became a habit of yours whenever leaving his side. 
Princess. Treatment (Or as much as he can give).
He’ll bully you if you start complaining that your feet hurt, but he’ll let you cling to his back like a koala all the way back to ship while doing it. 
Whilst walking around whatever city the crew was stopped at, he’ll have one arm around you at all times, really only letting you go when you weasel out of his arms to go listen to the little band playing music on the street corner. 
(He stands guard at the front of the crowd, eyes peeled whilst you distract the watchers long enough for Nami to pickpocket each and every one of them. And when he’s inevitably so caught up in watching you, someone notices Nami slinking off with their wallet. The three of you race through the street and around a corner, laughing till your sides ache).
Zoro will help you destroy all your dead pointe shoes from your days on Cerise’s stage, having no need for them on the sea, slamming the shoes by the ribbons against the deck of the ship till Usopp yells at you for leaving scratches on the deck. 
He has a little too much fun with it, and you’re no different, feeling free of all bitterness and anger with each shoe that you snap in two. The others are only slightly concerned about the violence of it all, leaving the pair of you alone when you and Zoro melt into laughter like children.
You try to teach him to waltz one day, because he was hopeless on the dance floor with two left feet. When he tried to escape it, you simply replied, “I want to dance with you… and keep my toes too.” “Hey!”
An hour must have passed, and Zoro still couldn’t process exactly what he was supposed to do, when he was supposed to. He narrowly missed your toe again by stepping forward when he was meant to step back. 
Zoro grunted, dropping his arms from your waist and putting a wide berth between you. “Forget it.”
Grinning softly, you took his chin between your thumb and finger, catching his frustrated gaze that melted once it met with yours. “It’s fine. You’ll get it eventually.”
He scoffed as if to say yeah right, and you took that personally. Raising a brow, you lowered your gaze to your feet, then to Zoro’s, before a grin tugged at your lips. “I know! Here.”
You hooked your arms around his neck, getting up close and personal as you gently stepped onto his shoes. Zoro tried to remain stoic, but it all fell through when you brushed your nose against his and dragged a little chuckle out of him. 
“What’re you doing?” he asked fondly.
“Dancing,” you laughed. “This way, you can’t step on my feet.”
“But now you’re stepping on mine.”
“Hush. Just—spin around. I dunno.”
His hands settled on your hips, his eyes rolling to the side despite the light blush on his cheeks giving him away. Zoro grinned slyly and wrapped his arms around you, tottering from one foot to the next in a swift whirl. You squealed his name into his neck as he lifted you up, spinning the both of you around and around till you could barely breathe, you were laughing so hard.
Your feet touched the floor as Zoro’s sight got too dizzy, his deep laughter rumbling in his chest as he leaned into you for balance. You gripped his shoulders so he wouldn’t take you down with him, running your hand up the back of his neck to card through his hair. 
He pulled back, smiling dazedly, and you shook your head at him. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Eh,” he said, ducking to hover his lips over yours. “I think I’m getting good at this dancin’ thing.”
Your scoff was muffled against his kiss, deep and slow. He grinned against your mouth, taking the first step forward to lead you back to his bed. The door to the boy‘s cabin swung open, instantly followed by a sharp scoff.
You broke away from Zoro to find Sanji standing in the doorway, his eyes narrowed at Zoro’s back. “Whore,” he spat, his eyes softening on you. “Not you, my dear.”
“Thanks for the clarification,” you said with a roll of your eyes, watching as Zoro’s good mood flew out the window as he glared daggers into the cook. “Welp, dance class is over.” 
They were arguing before you ever left the room, their tones escalating surprisingly fast. “Bye, boys!”
There was a lull in the shouting before the sound of Zoro lumbering down the hall (did he just run into the doorframe?) echoed after you. “Hey, angel, wait!”
You turned, giggling as your graceless boyfriend stumbled to a stop before you, one arm resting on the wall beside you to steady himself. He too started to smile after catching the soft one on your lips, his other arms reaching to pull you close by your hip.
"I'll practice," he promised softly, his nose gently brushing your own.
"Oh?"
"Mhmm. I'll sweep you off your feet once and for all then."
He kissed you then, softly and full of intention, so you didn't bother to say Oh, but you already have.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s
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onehelluvacritic · 2 months
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Episode 7 and Episode 8 is so fucking dull. (Spoilers)
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I don't know what it is about this series, but I'm really not feeling it at all. Like I don't have much to say that's positive and I've aired most of my negative sentiments toward this series. I felt nothing watching these characters. I didn't care for them.
I have nothing to say about episode 7 because it's boring to death and it doesn't resolve the Vaggie Charlie conflict very well. Specifically, it rushes to have it pay off. They hug eachother at the end of episode 7 after episode 6, which just had an earth shattering reveal.
God forbid we see Charlie act pissed toward Vaggie for lying to her, or ya'know, see them argue. That could've been the next episode. There could've been a dramatic scene where Charlie finally transforms and the room gets dark and demonic and she yells at Vaggie for lying to her. (Now I want to write this, fuck. I need that dramatic payoff.)
Charlie flipping out at Vaggie for lying to her the entire time and they have a falling out for 2 episodes would have been interesting to watch and it would've raised the tension, but nope. We can't linger on the angst for more than 5 seconds without it being ruined, because Vivizepop is terrified of characters having conflict with eachother.
That little tidbit from episode 3 where Vaggie is like, "I failed you," to Charlie would've worked perfectly after Vaggie's big reveal, because it would make SENSE why Vaggie would feel that way. She lied to Charlie and she was failing Charlie the entire time. She could've had angst where she felt guilty, or reluctant to go to heaven the entire time. I don't know. Like give me something fucking interesting to root for here. I wasted all of my time watching this shit and I'm frustrated that I have nothing to like here. I want to like these characters, but I got NOTHING interesting for me to give a shit about.
The only interesting thing through episode 7 to 8 was Alastor, I'm not even joking. That's because he makes his motives clear with his actions and we aren't being told what's going on. When the show knows how to show a characters intentions, it can do it right. It's infuriating that Alastor is the only character that's written decently at this point. Everyone else gets info dumps, or it's rushed to the next conclusion without giving me a second to absorb what just happened or feel any angst.
Episode 8 was fucking stupid. There was some massive plotholes revealed in the worldbuilding and history/logistics between heaven and hell. First of all. I don't buy that demons haven't tried to raise up against the angels before.
Second, where the fuck did the angelic weapons come from? If angels are impossible to kill, that would also mean it's impossible for demons to take the spoils from any fights they had with angels. Layman's terms. You need to pry the weapons from an angels cold dead hands.
Third, how did Carmine (the bitch with the Ballerina legs) manage to take on 3 angels but only killed one? Where did the other 2 go? How did she manage to decapitate an angel with only her legs? Where did she get the angelic weapons from, because apparently she has a ton of angelic weapons and she's a weapon specialist? Again, we have been told that demons were never able to kill angels, so how the fuck did she get her hands on their weapons without killing more angels to do it? Also- why, Carmine as an overlord of Hell, give a single shit about Hazbin Hotel? Why would she help Vaggie, who WAS an exterminator before? Wouldn't Carmine question Vaggie's intentions and even rub it in her face that she LIED to Charlie The Princess of Hell about who she really is? Like how would Carmine know to trust Vaggie to not turn on her and her children?
The most frustrating plot hole: Lucifier being the most OP motherfucker out of everyone because he's a fallen arc angel. He was able to almost kill Adam and this implies that Lucifer, this entire time could've stopped the exterminations if he felt like it. That makes the ENTIRE Hazbin Hotel premise irrelevant. Charlie looks like a complete dumbass trying to redeem demons when her own father is enabling the problem.
Ok, that's all I have to say. There isn't much more to say. The show is complete garbage and I just wasted my time watching it.
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writingwithfolklore · 8 months
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What advice would you have with a story that doesn’t necessarily have one set main character, but rather a group of important characters that influence the world around them? Is one set main character necessary?
Hi, thank you for the question!
Managing Multiple Main Characters
One main character is definitely not necessary. However, it depends how you define a main character. Are main characters just characters that have their own POV and arc? Or are they the point of the story telling? How significant does their impact on the world need to be?
Typically, even stories with multiple main characters (characters with POV and their own major arc), still has one main arc to follow that the others work with.
To make this point clearer, imagine a story with two main characters--one is a ballerina trying to land the main role of the show. The other is an astrophysicist discovering new things about our universe. At the end of the story, the ballerina lands the role, and the astrophysicist lands their promotion. One might wonder why these stories couldn't have each been their own novel, right?
So imagine instead, a ballerina is trying to land their dream role, and an astrophysicist is discovering new things about the universe. The theme for the upcoming ballet is space, so the ballerina goes to the astrophysicist for inspiration--leading to a blending of discovery, dance and science that leads the ballerina to landing the role and the physicist to opening their perspective on the universe.
Two main characters, but one 'story' that draws them together.
This is the most important part about writing multiple MCs. Readers typically expect--at some point--for the arcs of the MCs to intersect and work together. That's to say, if you have two characters who are both going through their own individual arcs completely separate from each other (such as the ballerina and physicist), at some point, they will have to interact or impact each other, and typically finish the story together, strengthened by their connection.
In cases of more than two main characters, it gets a bit more difficult. The more arcs and MCs your story has, the longer and more complicated it becomes.
To help with this, you can do a few things:
1. Have several arcs work together
Just like with two MCs, you can combine several of your MCs to going through arcs together. They may have the same objective (maybe for different reasons/motivations/goals, but the same 'end-game'), or otherwise they have to help each other or bounce off each other to get to their goal.
Romantic subplots are a really easy example of this. Two characters have an arc that both contribute to the same thing: the relationship.
2. Make some arcs 'weigh' more than others
The project I'm working on right now has five major characters who all have arcs and POV chapters. Character A and B are the protagonists, but character A is the 'more main' character out of the two of them. Then characters C, D, and E still have arcs, but theirs are much smaller than A and B. They still take the entirety of the story to fulfill their arc, but require less chapters and scenes to do it.
Thus, the breakdown in amount of time spent with characters is easy:
A - 40%, B - 30%, C - 15%, D - 10%, E - 5%
It's a bit less common to find a story with a lot of main characters that are all equal in their main character-ness. They may all impact the world and the story, but they aren't necessarily equal in doing so.
3. If all your characters are equal, they probably all have the same objective
Now, characters all having the same objective doesn't mean they're all going through the same arc. Objective may just be 'save the world from evil', but character A wants to save it for their family, character B wants to save it to have some control over it, character C wants to save it to promote their podcast, etc. etc. Their goals (or what they want out of achieving the objective) will be different, but they can band together to accomplish the same objective.
This keeps your astrophysicist and your ballerina together. Your characters' stories have meaning to each other, and a point to being put in the same novel.
Good luck!
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