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#then rips it off during battle like the ba she is
stardust948 · 5 months
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It would be interesting if in Season 2, Mizu hid her Japanese features and highlighted her European ones to navigate London easier. A complete opposite of what she's been doing her whole life in Japan.
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jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd · 3 months
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This is a little strange but can I request marco (if you write for him) and jean with a reader with wings? Maybe they found out she has wings in the 104th or they found her injured or something. Whatever you want
pairing: jean x angel!reader x marco
wc: 1k
tw: fighting, injury, cursing, sfw, blood/wounds, short & simple story
summary: jean and marco come face to face with a life changing realization when they discover you hurt during the battle of trost.
a/n: this is very short, my apologies. if i didn’t make it short, it’d be a thousand pages and i do not have the time for that lol
“jean!” marco’s usually calm voice now rang out in a shrill tone, barely heard over the thudding of titan’s footsteps down below. jean, who had trained himself to always hear marco’s voice, knew what marco had meant when he called for him. marco had found you.
minutes earlier, you were zipping through the air. you, headed to wall rose, were determined to stop the flow of titans pouring in through the massive hole. it was jean’s idea to catch them at the entry before they could wreak any more havoc on the town of trost.
jean knew he’d fucked up, disobeying orders by sending the three of you towards the wall when you were supposed to be hanging back. he knew it the moment he saw a titan intercept your path. the line falling short, your body’s momentum was cut too soon causing you to plummet. jean watched in horror. it was slow motion as you fell, watching you reach out for something to catch you to no avail.
marco and jean were too far away to help you in time. you fell, panic filling your lungs all the way down. your vision faded to black, the height from which you fell was too high; you would have never survived the impact if it weren't for your secret.
“jean!” marco called again, ripping jean from whatever thoughts raced through his mind. he pointed down to an alley where he could just see strands of your hair underneath a pile of debris. jean’s eyes followed marco’s fingers. they widened at the sight of you, face down on the pavement, still.
jean launched downwards, not caring if he left marco behind or not. he needed to get to you. you were his number one priority and he was the reason you were in this situation. marco’s quick to follow him. jean and marco’s footsteps were near silent on the ground except for the crunch of gravel below their feet.
jean was the first to fall to his knees, digging rocks and pieces of wood off of your unconscious body. marco drop[ed next to him, joining in on the process. they were able to rid you of all the debris but not of the blood and dirt staining you.
marco tried to pull you up by your wrists, relying on his strength alone, but jean stopped him. marco turned his head around, his brown eyes wide with disbelief. why would he try to stop him? did he not want to save you? or were you already gone?
“marco…” jean started with a quivering voice. “look.” he whispered as a shaky hand rose to point out something on your back. there were two slits on the back of your jacket which should have revealed your tender, smooth, soon to bruise skin. instead, there were two parallel weeping wounds. it was the biggest source of your blood loss. there was bits of scar tissue around the cuts.
“what..is that?” marco whispered, his voice just above a hush. instinctively, he reached a hand to trace the edges of your jacket, just around your wounds.
jean and marco had never seen any scratch or cut like this, if you could even call them that. they were parallel, almost methodical. those weren’t an accident, there was no way in hell. and it looks like you’d been cut there more than once, obvious because of the scar tissue outlining it. somebody had done this to you, jean was so sure of it. anger surged through him. the thought of somebody hurting you like this…over and over. he just couldn’t bare it.
when marco’s fingers just brushed so slight against your skin, a gasp broke from the grasps of your throat and you shot up backwards. you weren’t sure who’s eyes were wider, yours or theirs. marco’s hand hovered in mid air, the tip of his finger with a smudge of blood on it. confidently, you released your wings. a visual explosion of white, flapping once to create a gust of wind, blowing your hair. you had been discovered. it was too late to do anything; they had seen you. they had seen your wings. you leaped to your feet, ready for flight.
you forgot just how quick jean’s reflexes were. his hand wrapped around your wrist before you could take off. he said nothing as his eyes bore deep into your soul, different emotions flashing through them. your mouth opened as if to say something but marco had cut you off.
“you were too late.” it’s a statement, a confident one at that. his pointer finger and thumb rested on his chin. marco was too damn smart for his own good and always had been.
“what?” jean snaps, fear and confusion dripping off of his tongue.
“you tried to save yourself.” marco looked back at you, peeling his eyes off of jean. he shook his head and continued speaking in a calm manner. “you were falling. you wanted to save yourself” he repeated. “it took longer than you thought. you were too late and you hit the ground.”
“marco…” you whispered, jean’s grip still tight. marco was being compassionate in this moment; you could always count on him to be just that. he wasn’t asking a thousand questions. he wasn’t afraid or curious. he was thinking logically as if to not overwhelm you. or he was studying you.
jean, on the other hand, wasn’t as relaxed as his best friend. “what the fuck? (y/n), you have fucking wings. marco, do you see that? tell me you see that shit right now, marco.”
marco just laughed, taking the attention away from you. he ignored the baffled look his friend shot his way. “jean, relax.” his words did little to soothe jean. you took jean’s words out of his mouth.
“why are you so calm?”
“it’s a shock, yeah.” he rubs his neck, a sneaky blush dancing across his freckles face. “but, i mean, titans exist, right? maybe your wings aren’t the strangest thing.”
“it’s pretty damn strange.” jean shakes his head and palms his forehead.
click here to read my jean fic 🤍
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beifongsss · 4 years
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threatened by the blind bandit [zuko]
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Pairing: Zuko x Beifong!reader (also an earthbender)
Summary: requested by anon. “ hii 👉👈 could we get a nervous, flustered!zuko going to sokka for advice on how to get you to like him back?”. This also takes place during season three sometime during the Ember Island Players. I also made the reader Toph’s older sister because I thought it’d be interesting 🙊
i also kind of changed it a little too much so i hope you still enjoy it anon! <3 sorry :(
~
The first time Prince Zuko had seen you had been the time that Azula had been tracking you and the rest of the Gaang with her mysterious machine. You had gotten there along with your sister, bursting in to help Aang fight against the royal siblings. As Toph ran off to help fight against the princess, you had cornered the prince, a slightly crazed look present in your eyes due to your lack of sleep. He had exchanged glances with his uncle before Iroh stepped forward, his hands raised in surrender.
“We mean you and the avatar no harm,” Iroh had said softly. You had tilted your head to the side, glancing at him before making eye contact with Zuko. His eyes had widened as they met yours, a faint blush spreading up his neck that was only visible to Iroh. Your gaze had hardened as you looked at the prince, backing up slightly before speaking.
“If it were just you, I’d believe your words. But since he’s here, I’m not taking any chances,” you said sharply. Turning around, you waved your hand behind you, causing the ground underneath them to become uneven and send them stumbling against the wall behind them. With another wave, pieces of rock flew towards them, chaining their hands to the wall.
Zuko’s eyes didn’t leave your form as you jumped into battle, fighting his sister with a grace that admittedly made his stomach flip. He was so caught up in watching you that he didn’t realize that Iroh had freed himself until he spoke. “Maybe you should spend less time looking at the earthbender and more time trying to free yourself.”
Zuko scowled as he ripped his gaze from you, settling on shooting his uncle a glare. “Free me.”
Iroh chuckled at his nephew’s words but did as he said. Zuko wasted no time in going after Azula, trying not to get distracted by the way you made bending seem so easy. You didn’t notice him, too busy making sure that Sokka was safe from any stray fire or falling rocks.
Eventually, you became the last thing on his mind. Once Azula had attacked Iroh, his well-being became the only thing that mattered. When he screamed at the Gaang to leave him alone, he felt your gaze on him and he hesitantly glanced up, his vision blurred by the tears welling up in his eyes. You took a hesitant step forward, only stopping when Zuko flinched and looked away, his tears finally spilling.
“We have to go,” Toph exclaimed, grabbing onto your hand and pulling you towards Appa. “Now!”
You allowed your sister to pull you away, throwing one last glance behind you. You felt your heart clench at the sight of Zuko hugging Iroh. You climbed onto Appa and sat next to Sokka in silence as you flew away.
~
You didn’t see the prince again until Azula and her friends infiltrated Ba Sing Se. You and Katara had stayed behind to plan the invasion into the Fire Nation on the Day of Black Sun while Aang, Sokka, and Toph each embarked on their respective journeys.
“You’ve got company,” a Dai Li agent called out, tossing someone down next to you. You gasped quietly, turning away from the tunnel you had been creating for you and Katara to escape through.
“Zuko?” you questioned, exchanging an uncertain glance with Katara.
Katara stepped forward, an angry expression on her face. “Why did they throw you in here? Oh, wait, let me guess. It's a trap. So that when Aang shows up to help me, you can finally have him in your little Fire Nation clutches!”
The prince stayed silent as Katara continued her ranting. “You're a terrible person! You know that? Always following us! Hunting the Avatar! Trying to capture the world's last hope for peace! But what do you care? You're the Fire Lord's son. Spreading war and violence and hatred is in your blood!”
You ran in front of Katara, placing a hand on her arm as you noticed Zuko’s expression. “Katara maybe you should calm down.”
She looked at you incredulously before yanking her arm away from you. You flinched out of instinct, stumbling back and landing on your butt next to Zuko, who immediately helped you up and stood in front of you. “Don’t.”
Noticing the way her arm was raised, and how it had implied that she was going to strike you, Katara took a step back. She brought her arm back down to her side, shooting a worried glance at you. She was surprised at the prince’s actions; she had never seen him be that gentle, not even with Iroh. You kept your gaze down, admittedly feeling safe knowing that Zuko was standing in front of you.
“(Y/N),” Katara whispered. “You know I’d never-”
Her voice faded as she noticed Zuko’s fiery glare. Her tone changed as she addressed the prince. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Zuko said, his voice gruff and his eyes never leaving you. Katara opened her mouth to speak only to be interrupted by a loud boom coming from the tunnel you had begun earthbending.
“Aang!” you had exclaimed, running over to the avatar. “Where’s Toph?”
“She went to warn King Kuei about Azula. Sokka’s with her,” Aang replied. Your eyes widened before you began running back out through the tunnel.
“(Y/N)! Where are you going?” Katara asked, stumbling after you.
“To help my sister,” you replied fiercely. “And to make sure that Sokka doesn’t get injured!”
Katara tried to go after you only to be stopped by an enormous wall of crystal. Everyone in the catacombs stared after you as you ran away, amazed by what you had just done. Sure, they had known you were a talented earthbender, but this...this was raw power and it had shocked them into silence.
The silence was broken by Zuko, who was still staring wide-eyed at the tunnel you had escaped through. “Wow.”
Everyone else had turned to look at him, causing his cheeks to burn. Remembering his actions from earlier, Katara’s expression changed into a knowing one as she looked at the blushing prince. He avoided her gaze, instead looking at Aang, who’s face held a wide smile, before finally looking at his uncle, who couldn’t stay silent. “Staring at her again? Prince Zuko, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you are very enamored by the earthbender.”
Unfortunately, Zuko’s response was quickly ignored as Azula entered, two Dai Li agents at her side. Zuko got into a defensive position, forcing himself to stop thinking about the beautiful earthbender.
~
The third time you saw Zuko was when he finally joined the group at the Western Air Temple.
He had received a cold welcome from the group, you and Katara especially. After fleeing from Ba Sing Se, Katara had filled you in on what had happened after you left the catacombs, causing you to feel an ache in your chest for some unknown reason.
Maybe it was because you thought that there was no way Zuko could have been evil, not with the way he had shielded you when you thought Katara was about to strike you. Not with the way he threw himself over Iroh’s unconscious body when Azula has attacked, sobs racking his body. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because a part of you had felt your heart flutter when you noticed the soft way that Zuko had been looking at you in the catacombs.
But he was the prince of the Fire Nation, and you now knew that the Fire Nation could not be trusted. The only reason you were keeping him around was so that he could teach Aang firebending. Other than that, you were ready to throw him off a cliff, especially when you found out he had burned Toph’s feet.
You spent more time with the prince than you expected, especially after finding out that he was the only other bender that had any training in hand-to-hand combat. Before him, Sokka had been your sparring partner, but you were always hesitant to fight him because you were used to using your earthbending as an advantage and you didn’t want to hurt the nonbender. When you weren’t out sparring with Zuko, you spent your time with Sokka, ranting about said prince.
Sokka found the whole situation amusing. He could tell that Zuko had feelings for you. If the blush that coated his face every time you sparred wasn’t enough of an indicator, the way Zuko would stumble and stutter every time you addressed him was more than enough evidence. It also didn’t hurt that Toph could feel his heartbeat speed up whenever you were around him.
The water tribe boy leaned against a pillar as he watched the two of you spar, wincing slightly when you hesitated to strike and were hit with a fireball. Sokka’s lips twitched as you let out a hiss from where you were sitting, cradling your arm to your chest as you inspected the burn. Zuko ran forward, panic clear on his face as he took in the damage he had caused.
“(Y-Y/N), I-I’m so, so s-sorry,” Zuko stuttered out, crouching next to you as he reached for your arm. You glared at him, pulling your arm away from him as you rose to your feet. “I d-didn’t mean t-to.”
You didn’t say anything to him as you stalked away, deciding to find Katara so she could heal the burn. Once you were out of sight, Sokka stepped towards the prince, clapping slowly as Zuko scowled.
“You know, it’s pretty funny to watch you turn into a stuttering mess when you’re around her,” Sokka said, smiling widely. “I can help you with that.”
“Why would I accept any help from you,” Zuko replied rudely, turning to walk away.
“Because I’m her best friend,” came Sokka’s smug reply. “And trust me, if there’s anyone that knows how to deal with her anger, it’s me.”
Zuko paused, thinking over Sokka’s words before turning back around, a defeated look on his face. “Okay. Help me win her over. Please.”
~
Sokka did end up helping Zuko, to an extent. In return, Zuko had helped Sokka break his father and Suki out of the Boiling Rock. No matter how much the two boys would deny it, breaking in and out of the Boiling Rock had helped them grow closer together, something that annoyed you to no end.
Now, whenever you wanted to talk to Sokka, Zuko was right there next to him. It was like you could no longer avoid the prince no matter what you did.
After Zuko had helped Katara track down her mother’s murderer, she had finally forgiven him, leaving you as the only one who hadn’t welcomed him fully into the group. You did all you could to avoid him once the Gaang had reached Ember Island, spending most of your time with Appa.
~
“You have to get over it sometime,” Toph’s voice broke through the silence, startling you slightly as you turned to face her.
“What?” you asked, pretending to not know what she was talking about.
Toph remained silent as she stared at you, or at least as she stared at where she thought you were. In reality, she was staring at Appa as you stood off to the side. You tried your best to stifle a laugh.
“Why can’t you see he’s changed? Everyone else has, even the Sugar Queen,” Toph continued, crossing her arms. “Besides, I’m getting real tired of the way his heartbeat gets when you’re around. I swear you’re gonna kill that boy.”
You flushed at your sister’s words, opening your mouth to reply before you were interrupted by Sokka’s screaming.
“Let’s go see the play!”
“Look,” Toph said, beginning to walk away. “Just think about it okay?”
You stayed silent as you followed her, wondering when the hell she had grown up so much.
~
The play was set to start in a few minutes so you all decided to me your way to your seats. You were about to take a seat next to Toph when she pushed you away before pulling Katara down next to her. “Sorry this seat’s taken.”
You glared at your sister before sitting next to Katara, stiffening up when you looked next to you to see Zuko sitting there. The two of you blushed as you made eye contact.
“Toph’s a genius,” you heard Sokka snicker from behind you, causing you to sink down in your chair. The play began soon after and as far as plays go, this one was absolutely terrible. Hilarious, but terrible. You and Toph were having the time of your life laughing at the way everyone was being portrayed. You had no idea that the Zuko was paying a lot more attention to you than he was to the play.
Intermission came too soon (at least in your opinion) and you found yourself heading to the lobby to buy some fire flakes.
Back near the doors, Zuko was sitting down with his back against the wall and his head buried in his arms. He glanced up when he heard a set of footsteps approach him only to find Toph standing next to him. He put his head back down.
“You’re pathetic,” were the first words to come out of Toph’s mouth, causing Zuko to look up wildly, disbelief and offense visible on his face, not that Toph could see it.
“What?”
“You heard me,” the Beifong girl stated. “I can’t believe you’re over here wallowing in your pity instead of confessing to my sister.”
Zuko opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by Toph. “Don’t deny it! In case you forgot, I can feel your heartbeat and I know that it goes crazy whenever you so much as think about her.”
Zuko’s face burned as he noticed the rest of the Gaang coming back.
“Just man up and tell her how you feel okay fire pants?” Toph spoke again before stomping back inside the theater.
Once everyone was settled back in their seats, the play began once again. After a shockingly accurate portrayal of you and the reveal of Toph as a buff man, the play finally got to when you had been trapped down in the crystal catacombs.
You and Katara shifted uneasily as Actress Katara raised her hand, causing Actor Zuko to step in front of Actress You and stop Actress Katara.
“Don’t you dare lay a hand on her,” Actor Zuko growled.
“What do you care?” Actress Katara replied. “This doesn’t concern you Zuko.”
“Yes it does!”
“Why?”
“Because I love her,” Actor Zuko roared. “Because I love her and I won’t let anyone hurt her.”
You tuned out the play when Actress You also professed her love for Actor Zuko, who then proceeded to kiss Actress You. You could feel Sokka’s stare burning into your head and you sunk low into your chair, turning to glance as Zuko only to find him already looking at you. You swallowed uneasily as you maintained eye contact only to break it when Aang spoke.
“Why are you all silent now?”
Katara glanced at the stage and then at the two of you as subtly as she could, not that you didn’t notice.
“Is it because of the confession?” Aang asked adorably. “It’s not like it’s weird, we already knew that Zuko liked (Y/N/N)!”
You heard Toph and Sokka try to stifle their laughs as you and Zuko sank impossibly low in your seats, flinching when you felt your arm rub against his.
~ It was dark out when you decided it was finally time to talk to Zuko. After searching for him in the house, you noticed flashes of light and you followed them to find Zuko firebending down at the beach.
You observed him for a while before deciding to speak up. “Zuko.”
Zuko flinched and whirled around, losing his footing when he saw you and toppling into the sand. “(Y-Y/N)!”
You smiled softly, offering him a hand. He took it, standing up and coming face-to-face with you.
“W-What are you d-doing out here?” Zuko asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I just thought I should tell you that I’m sorry for being so rude to you and not welcoming you into the group,” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his.
“You don’t h-have to apologize,” Zuko breathed, growing nervous under your soft gaze. “I d-deserved it, after everything I’ve done t-to you.”
“No. I was being unfair to you, even after you proved that you had finally changed,” you retorted, closing your eyes before continuing. “The truth is, I was upset that you had chosen Azula’s side because a part of me...a part of me has feelings for you, and I was angry with myself for letting myself fall for you.”
The silence that followed was deafening and you found yourself regretting your words. What if your sister and Sokka were wrong? What if they were just lying to you? There was no way that they could know how Zuko truly felt abou-
Your racing thoughts were silenced when you felt a pair of lips press against yours. Zuko’s hands trembled as they gripped your waist, pulling you closer to him. You returned the kiss, your hands weaving through his hair and your head spinning as you realized that you were kissing someone that had been considered your enemy for the longest time.
“I left the palace to train Aang,” Zuko said huskily, finally pulling away. His hands didn’t leave your waist. “But I know that I also left because I wanted to see you again and I wanted to prove to you that I wasn’t evil and that having feelings for someone as good as you wasn’t wrong.”
You stared at him before speaking once again. “I never thought you were evil.”
Zuko’s gaze changed to surprised before going back to the soft gaze he had been directing at you. Without saying anything, he pulled you into a hug breathing deeply at your words as a weight lifted off his chest.
“I never did,” you continued, clinging onto him. You stayed like that for a while before Zuko pulled back, staring at you for what felt like an eternity before stealing another kiss from you.
“I’m glad we finally talked,” he mumbled against your lips, causing you to chuckle.
“I can’t believe we have my sister to thank. She basically threatened me into talking to you,” you said, breaking the kiss.
Zuko’s eyes widened before he started laughing. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he began to guide you back to the vacation house, pressing a kiss to your temple as he smiled down at you.
“Funny. She threatened me too.”
~
hiiii i hope this was good i kind of struggled with how i wanted this to play out but i hope you enjoyed!!
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elentiyawhitethorn · 3 years
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Just Wrong Enough to Make It Feel Right
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CW: NSFW, violence, language
AN: This is inspired by @morganofthewildfire’s work Two Flickering Souls. I got a bit obsessed with it and made my own version of HoF canon divergence hate sex. This takes place right after Aelin rescues Luca from the lake during training. First portion of dialogue & the initial situation come from SJM.
Smut//3715 words
“I will kill you,” she snarled. And launched herself at him.
Rowan ducked the first punch, but the second one connected. He snarled, but Celaena didn’t let up.
Her knuckles split from the third punch, but Celaena didn’t mind. No, more than that - she savored it.
A growl was the only warning Celaena got before she was slammed to to the ground.
Pissed, she wrapped her legs around Rowan and shoved, just hard enough to knock him off balance. Now Celaena was on top.
“If you ever bring someone else into this; if you ever endanger anyone else the way you did today, I will kill you.” Celaena brought her fist down on his chest, panting.
And again.
And again.
Rowan was limp underneath her, taking each blow.
“I will rip out your rutting throat. You understand?”
He just tilted his head and spit blood on the ground. Then he moved so quickly she didn’t even have a chance to process what had happened before Celaena was underneath Rowan once more. “I will do whatever I please.”
Celaena growled, a feral noise. That’s all she was now anyway: a feral animal craving vengeance and pain and blood. “You will keep other people out of it! No one else!” she yelled, right in Rowan’s face.
He only let his face inch closer, until there noses were almost brushing. “Tell me why, Aelin.”
His voice had gone not soft, but quiet. A plain, commanding tone, unaffected by the lack of volume.
Aelin didn’t allow herself to think it through before lifting her face that extra centimeter and slamming her lips into Rowan’s.
He pulled back immediately. Of course he did. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Now his voice was sharp and deadly. Rowan looked about ready to tear her intestines out for the offense, but Celaena just scowled.
“I want to think about something other than why. Please.” Her voice cracked on the last word. Never, in the seemingly endless weeks they’d been together, had Celaena expected to say that word to him. Rowan was not someone she would beg of anything. Anything except for this.
“Why me? Can’t you go to someone else for a distraction?” Rowan was still as ice above Celaena.
She rolled her eyes. “Because you’re fucking on top of me, dumbass. Will you fuck me? It’s a yes or no thing. Don’t make this complicated.”
“What would I get out of this?” Rowan’s expression was unreadable. Per usual.
“Well,” Celaena replied, smiling viciously, “I think I know better by now than to say ‘the warm, fuzzy feeling you get when you know you’ve done a good deed.’ How about because I’m a good fuck?”
Impatiently awaiting Rowan’s answer to her offer - uncomplicated, distraction sex - Celaena shifted under his body, pressing more of herself against his muscular figure. A pathetic attempt at seduction, but she had better things to be doing than waiting on grandpa to find his words.
He scowled, likely at her lack of patience. No, he was probably scowling at every aspect of this situation. “Fine.”
“Fine?” Celaena asked, smirking. Gods, what a sight they must make, her pinned down by an immortal warrior, a combination of their blood on both of their faces and fists, her smiling and him frowning.
Rowan about snarled. “I’m saying yes.”
“Don’t just say yes. Do something,” Celaena snapped.
Eyes narrowing, Rowan kissed her, their lips meeting once more to clash in a fiery battle of wills. Neither of the pair closed their eyes, though. With anyone else, it would have been weird, but for some reason, staring hatefully into the depths of Rowan’s cold eyes as they kissed seemed right, somehow.
Ungrateful brat, he seemed to say. His tongue slipped through Celaena’s lips and she sighed into the kiss.
Celaena countered with, Ancient bastard.
Blood had dripped from one of - or both of - their faces and to their joint lips. The taste of blood mixing in the kiss send Aelin’s own blood into a frenzy.
You little bitch, Rowan retorted.
Sick of the insults, and ready for much for than a make out session, Celaena spread her legs. She wrapped them around Rowan’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer.
He slide a hand down to her tunic, pulling it up with practiced ease and disposing of it somewhere to the side. Rowan let his lips trail along Celaena’s collarbone, nipping and licking and kissing. She reached behind herself and unclasped the fabric covering her breasts.
The look on Rowan’s face as he took in the sight of her bare breasts helped her ego recover from the embarrassment of asking for this. Now he was just as much to blame as she.
Rowan only gave a lazy smirk before closing the distance with his mouth, letting his tongue dart out and taste a nipple.
Refusing to be the first to break, Celeana held her tongue, trying not to moan.
Sensing her internal struggle, Rowan smiled, the action pure predator. His hand left its spot by Celaena’s side and pinched the other nipple.
Unable to hold it in, she cried out.
Rowan looked merely amused, like a cat toying with a mouse. He lowered his mouth once more and took a breast in his mouth. His hand came to massage the other breast in deft, rough movements.
Celaena pressed her lips together, trying not to lose control. When his teeth closed around a nipple, she couldn’t hold back another moan.
Her back arched into Rowan’s mouth before she could stop herself and he chuckled. “Eager, are you?”
“I haven’t had sex in weeks. Forgive me if I’m a little wound up,” Celaena said dryly.
Rowan only snorted and continued his ministrations. Not to be outdone, Celaena used her momentum to flip them, her legs still wrapped around his waist. She was straddling him now.
Rowan looked mildly annoyed with their new position, but content to let this play out. Celaena ground down on Rowan’s half-hard cock, enjoying the way his eyes darkened with lust.
It should have been a bit of a mood-killer to see blood streaking his face, and to feel it on her own, but Celaena could only feel lust coursing through her veins. She slid her hands underneath Rowan’s tunic, yanking it off desperately. Then she let her hands stray.
Over the muscled plane of Rowan’s chest. Over his biceps, and over the tattoo on his arm. She was going to feel every inch of his body or die trying. She traced it slowly, letting her fingers trail along Rowan’s shoulder, his neck, nearing the tip of the tattoo. When Celaena’s fingers reached Rowan’s cheek, he grabbed her wrist between two fingers.
She tried to pulled her wrist away, but his hold was like iron. So Celaena unbuttoned her pants with her free hand. That caught his attention, and reluctantly, Rowan released her. She used the free hand to help fully take them off, her undershorts with them, sliding off of him in the process.
Celaena was now fully bare before him. Rowan sat up and took in the sight of her. Ignoring the fact that she was covered in blood and sweat, she let her legs spread sensually. If only she could have bathed first; at least Rowan looked and smelled just as bad.
Rowan scooted forward, letting one hand wrap around Celaena’s waist and pull her closer. She was burning from the need to have him in her, absolutely-
Rowan’s fingers brushed one of her scars and they both froze.
His gaze met her own and Celaena sensed what he was about to do a split-second before he did it. She tried to wiggle away, saying, “Don’t.”
But Rowan was stronger and faster. He had the upper hand here. His strong hands pulled her to him, turning her so that he could see the full expanse of her back.
Why hadn’t Celaena planned for this? How could she have been so stupid?
“Who did that to you?” Rowan asked, his voice little more than a whisper, the sound absolutely unreadable.
Celaena angrily turned around in his grip. “Does it matter?” She reached for his pants, but he caught her hand again.
Looking straight into Rowan’s eyes, Celaena said, “I don’t want to think about that right now. The whole fucking point of this was to distract me, and I have to say, you’re doing a pissy job of it.”
Rowan scowled. He seemed to be debating what to do next; likely stuck between giving in and fucking her, and prying more so that he could have something more to insult her with. She could imagine it now, Rowan telling her how worthless she was, how she had deserved every scar on her back and then some…
Celaena felt a sudden burst of rage. “You don’t get to decide what happens next. I do. Because it is absolutely none of your gods-damn business. So you’re going to stop deciding what to do and just do as I fucking say.”
The anger of Celaena Sardothien, famed assassin, terror of Adarlan, had made lesser men piss themselves. But Rowan just looked deeper into her eyes, like he was scanning her soul itself. It made her feel naked - though perhaps that was just because she was naked.
Then he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her closer, his lips on hers once more. Well, that was his choice.
Celaena, still worked up, pressed against him, moving into his lap. Her hands slid up to his hair, touching the surprisingly soft silver locks, tugging them not-so-lightly.
Rowan let out a small noise of pleasure and Celaena preened… right up until she felt a finger prodding her folds. Oh, gods…
Not wasting time, a finger slid inside of Celaena’s entrance. She moaned, pressing her head into Rowan’s bare chest, trying to stifle the sounds of pleasure leaving her mouth as he started pumping his finger.
Chaol had done this before, but it had never felt so good and bad and positively sinful, all at once. Perhaps she hadn’t fully comprehended what sleeping with an immortal male who had spent centuries sharpening his technique in the bedroom truly meant.
“More,” Celaena moaned against his chest, her arms wrapping around his back to ground herself. She was too far gone to care about pride. Rowan hated her anyway; it’s not like she could possibly lose any respect from him.
Chuckling, Rowan added another finger, his thumb moving over her clit. Now his fingers were thrusting and his thumb was playing with her clit, tugging it, circling around it, never applying pressure the way she yearned for.
A third finger penetrated and Celaena groaned, the sound absolutely sin among the grass and the trees. Just when he curled his fingers, Rowan finally pressed his thumb down hard on her clit. She came with a guttural cry, digging her nails into Rowan’s back.
Celaena’s traitorous mind couldn’t help but think that Chaol had never made it feel anything like this before.
Rowan removed his hand from Celaena’s privates, moving it to his mouth and sucking each finger in turn. She about imploded.
Celaena scrambled off of Rowan’s lap, her fingers making quick work of his pants. Rowan helped her tug them down, revealing the thick length of him.
She bit down on her lip, trying not to moan. Her only point of reference was Chaol, but Rowan seemed rather… large.
“You last lover wasn’t an immortal fae warrior, was he?” Rowan asked, smirking. As if he didn’t already know the answer to that.
Celaena scowled, but blushed all the same. “Arrogant prick.”
Rowan just grinned and palmed his length. Celaena was honestly having doubts as to whether he’d fit.
Knowing exactly what was running through her mind, Rowan said, “Yes or no?”
He was offering her an out, an out that Celaena greatly appreciated, not that she’d ever tell him that. But she couldn’t turn this down. If she died with Rowan’s cock pounding into her… well, there were worse ways to go.
“Yes.”
With that one word, Celaena’s fate was sealed. Rowan lunged at her, knocking her to the ground. His hands came to her arms and he pinned her via the wrists. Celaena tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but found she couldn’t move an inch.
Incredibly turned on, she let out a feral groan when Rowan’s canines slid along her neck. He moved with the precision of someone holding a dagger to her throat, moving just lightly enough not to break skin.
Celaena was about to combust. Rowan was over her, and if he so chose, he could sink his teeth into her neck and end her very existence. Maybe he would, just to spite her. Under him, at his mercy, every survival instinct pushed Celaena to get away, to stop this. But she couldn’t even if she wanted to, and that was more than fine with her.
His canines hovered over her pulse point and Celaena groaned.
“Does this turn you on?” Rowan whispered against her skin. “Is your desire to survive so weak that you don’t mind having an enemy at your throat?”
“Don’t turn this into a fucking training lesson,” Celaena half-snarled, half-groaned. “For gods’ sakes, just do something.”
Rowan released her arms and braced them on either side of her face. Then he moved his head so that he was looking into Celaena’s eyes, his dilated set of pine green eyes boring into hers he settled farther between her thighs. She spread her legs as wide as she possibly could, desperate in a way she never had been before.
Then Rowan’s cock pressed against her entrance. Celaena gripped Rowan’s arms, preparing, a little scared but more turned on than anything else.
Rowan slowly entered Celaena, and it felt like her world was falling apart. Or maybe coming together.
There was an intense burning sensation, added to the delightful feeling of fullness. Her lips parted in a silent groan and her eyes fluttered shut.
“Open your eyes. I want you looking at me,” Rowan ordered, and Celaena didn’t have the strength to argue. She opened her eyes, waiting for him to slide in deeper.
Rowan went in another inch or so, nearly stretching Celaena to her limits. He groaned, and Celaena couldn’t help thinking she would never forget that sound for as long as she lived.
Slowly, Rowan filled her up, his cock pressing on her walls in the most heavenly way. Celaena was panting, and she found, with more than a little satisfaction, that Rowan was too.
“Gods, you’re so tight,” Rowan growled in her ear.
Celaena moaned. “Do it,” she whispered.
He started moving.
With each thrust, Celaena came a little more undone. She was adjusted to his size, but it was still a tight fit. Rowan started moving harder, having trouble containing himself.
“Harder,” Celaena demanded, wanting to know what it felt like when Rowan Whitethorn, immortal warrior and right-hand male of a queen, unleashed himself.
He was more than happy to comply. His thrusts got harder and harder until he was pounding into her, impaling her in all the right ways.
Celaena lifted her hips to meet his, chasing the same pleasure he was. Rowan slammed into her, hitting a spot she had thought a whorehouse fable, and with that, she was flooded with pure ecstasy.
Her head fell back on the ground, her whole body tensing. Celaena might have been screaming; she couldn’t tell. All she could hear was a roaring buzz in her ears.
Rowan didn’t let up, working her through her orgasm and trying to find the same feeling. He buried himself to the hilt one last time and spilled into Celaena, growling her name. No, not her name. He was saying “Aelin.” She hated when he called her that, but right now, she was hardly in the mood to protest.
With a grunt, Rowan pulled out and moved beside Celaena. He didn’t look nearly sated as she felt. Instead of giving her a chance to recover, his hand closed around her breast again. Celaena sighed. “Rowan.” Her voice was pleading, but she didn’t know what she was pleading for, exactly. For him to stop? For him to keep going?
“What, a chance to have my way with you and you thought I wouldn’t make the most of it? I’m going to make it hurt, and then I’m going to make you beg me for more until there is no dignity left for you to salvage.”
Celaena hadn’t been expecting that. She’d come twice already, and as that was the most Chaol had ever gotten out of her - on a good day - she hadn’t expected to want more. But all of a sudden, Celaena felt heat race between her legs once more.
Rowan was smirking, clearly able to smell the heavy scent of her arousal. “Spread your legs.”
Celaena frowned. The fuck she would just do as the asshole told her to. “Make me,” she snapped.
The dark look on Rowan’s face had her questioning whether or not to keep resisting. But she held her thighs together, stubborn to a fault.
Rowan made his way to Celaena’s feet, the prowling movements of a predator. She couldn’t hold back a shiver, and from the satisfied gleam in Rowan’s eyes, he noticed.
He let one hand slowly make its way up Celaena’s leg, not trying to pry them apart. Yet. His other hand repeated the same movement on the other side. Then he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Celaena’s ankle, designed to drive her insane. Spoiler alert: it was working.
Celaena’s resolve was steadily dissipating, but she tried not to let it show. Rowan finally wrapped his hands around either leg, and she barely put up a fight as he forcibly spread them apart.
Smirking at how easy it had been to tear apart Celaena’s strength of will, Rowan settled with his hands pinning down either thigh and his mouth hovering over her wet and aching center. She tried not to whimper.
Rowan lowered his face, and Celaena let her head fall back, anticipating the pleasure of having his wicked tongue drawing sounds out of her. But no pleasure came; he only planted a small kiss on her thigh. He was teasing her.
“I didn’t ask you to fuck me so you could screw around. Get on with it.” What had been intended as a commanding, don’t mess with me tone came out a bit shaky.
She glared down her bare body at Rowan, who was merely smirking at her, enjoying himself. “If you say so.”
Before Celaena could feel relief at his compliance, she was filled with the sensation of Rowan biting her clit. She cried out at the painful pleasure, bucking her hips. It had only been a small nip, but it hurt all the same.
“Still want me to get on with it?” Rowan asked, endlessly amused.
Celaena honestly didn’t know how to answer that. Although it had stung, she had felt so damn good. “Yes,” she barked.
Rowan grinned and thrust his fingers into Celaena’s dripping entrance, but this time starting with three. She was wet, but it was still so soon after she’d taken his cock. Celaena writhed beneath him, losing all fantasies of being at his level, of standing a chance against him. She wasn’t sure, but she felt if she truly wanted him to stop, Rowan would. But the fact that he didn’t have to was just so overwhelming. So thrilling.
He seemed to know exactly where her thoughts were going, and Rowan pulled his fingers all the way out before slamming them back in. Celaena groaned loudly, still trying to stifle the noises.
Rowan’s tongue started snaking around, tasting her, as his fingers fucked her. He wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked, and Celaena moaned. She lifted a hand to her mouth, covering the sounds as best as she could.
“Enough of that,” Rowan growled, and Celaena looked down to find his eyes cold and unforgiving again. “I want to hear you.”
Celaena reluctantly let her hand drop limply, and almost immediately, she moaned again. Rowan was fucking her in earnest now, and his tongue was throughly devouring her. The only sounds were Celaena’s cries, the wet thrusts of his fingers, and the slurping. She had never felt so dirty, so corrupt. It was a feeling she just knew she would crave for the rest of her life. Like one of the opium addicts in the slums, but only right after they’d taken their first try of the stuff.
The sensations were too much, and Celaena tried to worm away. She was crying now, as she groaned. Rowan’s other hand still held her hips, efficiently pinning her, restricting her ability to get away. Celaena felt a scream rip out of her throat when Rowan added a fourth finger.
“That’s it. You’re almost there. You’re so good for me.” Rowan was muttering all sorts of nonsensical things against her center as she screamed.
He let his canines brush her clit once more and Celaena crashed into the ecstasy she’d been reaching for all this time. She was shaking, and everything was blurry, and if an army came marching over the nearest hill, she’d probably only have the strength to let them spear her.
“You good?” Rowan asked, a small, albeit uncharacteristic, amount of concern in his tone.
“I’m fine,” Celaena panted.
She was lying. She wasn’t fine; she had just had the most phenomenal, earth-shattering, mind-blowing sex of her life. But there was no way in all the pits of hell would she ever tell Rowan that, so “fine” would have to do.
It took a couple of minutes for Celaena to regain her sense of sight, as well as the ability to move her body, and by the time she could see clearly again, Rowan was in pants and pulling on his tunic.
Celaena sat up slowly and reached for her own clothing. Only moments later, she was fully dressed and scowling at Rowan once again. “I still hate you.”
He grinned devilishly, a smile that promised extra training and more time in the kitchens tomorrow. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
———
Tag List:
@aelin-bitch-queen
@story-scribbler
@live-the-fangirl-life
@midsizewitch
@infernoqueen19
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rayshippouuchiha · 3 years
Text
Prompt of sorts i guess?
Read the story ‘the family you choose by TunaFishChris’ good story set in ATLA but when I finished reading it my brain threw more plot bunnies at me. Help.
Same soulmates verse but its ozai not azulon who burns zukos off, azulon does have one but its on his head covered by hair n it was for his wife so when she dies azulon goes a little mad n as this was during ozais formulation years n while iroh is away its no surprise that ozai ends up like he does. Half natural inclination n half nurture or lack there of. Sozin was soulmates with roku, loosing him n being partly responsible got rid of any sanity he still had thus war n genocide with gusto. Ozai is the only born royal with no marks n sees it as a strength, zuko gets his down his spine for his soul family always having his back n such. Ozai nearly cripples zuko getting rid of them. Lala (is easier n faster to write) gets her marks when she is with zuko, zuko is always with her, mum told him that he was a big brother n that big brothers looked after their little siblings, zuko loves his little sister, he takes her everywhere. So when her mark appear he very quickly covers them, takes them to a discreet doc in town to get cover cream for her n starts teaching her to NEVER talk about them to anyone but him, not mother not father, no one. It works the cream n the where they appear on the body mean she is not found out by ozai. This changes alot. Once azulon gets his mind back after his wifes death he is tired of war but realises that no one will believe him wanting to end the war, he looks at his sons, iroh has too much blood on his hands n likes fighting too much to be the one to take over from him. Ozai is too cruel, twisted n power hungry for it to be him. Lu ten is promising but after talking with him (under the pretences of teaching him royal politics, laws n other things that the presumed heir would need to know) azulon discovers that lu ten does not want to rule and to force him to do so would only make him resent the throne. Lu ten suggests zuko instead, zuko loves the nation n the ppl, zuko is a naturally caring n protective person, zuko already sneaks out n mingles with citizens who can’t seem to help loving him, he just draws everyone in. Lu ten suggests having zuko (and lala if zuzu is there so is she) attend these lessons with azulon n Lu ten the excuse given to allow it is that zuko is to be trained to be Lu tens advisor when he is firelord. Its the other way round really but no one else needs to know that yet, zuko can be the lord, Lu ten n lala the advisors. Lu ten is the one keeps the farce going n keeps the target for assassination on his back rather than his little cousins. Lu ten is reported dead at ba sing se but is alive just so injured n with amnesia, possibly also damage to his chi so he can’t bend. Is picked up by the boulder who was an army soldier but leaves after that battle as he can’t stand to see that much blood anymore. Lu ten has soul marks but they hang on his skin like a very log hanging belt no one is going to notice them unless he gets naked. Growing up zuko n lala discover they r soul mates, lala is far more stable as she knows her brother will always love her no matter what she does n without conditions like father. She still is terrifying but she is loyal to zuko n only plays at being loyal to ozai. When Lu ten is reported dead n ozai makes a play for the throne azulon sees his chance n when says ozai must lose a son, he doesn’t want zuko dead, he plans to remove zuko from ozai family line register n either take him in as his own son or to have iroh take zuko in. Either way zuko was never going to die. Lala not knowing this is scared her only person will be taken from her goes to mother as even though mother doesn’t love her she loves zuko n will be willing to protect him, that done she goes n spends the night with zuko in case father sends assassins. Ursa makes the poison n gives it to ozai n then runs, it isn’t fatal poison she is hoping that ozai will mess up, azulon to survive but proof that ozai tried to kill him will see ozai either in prison till he dies or being executed for treason. Either way zuko is safe from his father n azulon can’t kill zuko as he will be the only remaining male heir, ozai dead, iroh too old to have more children n azula being too young n too female for most of the war counsellors to take seriously. Ozai adds something of his own to the poison, not completely trusting ursa (I wonder y) the poison ends up stimulating death long enough for azulon to be declared dead, ozai crowned n shit started. Azulons body is secreted away by a small group of loyal followers n his health slowly, very slowly returns, he is an OLD man even if the poison doesn’t kill him it does still kick his ass a bit. Ozai ups his campaign to get rid of zuko, lala quickly becomes VERY good at acting, manipulation n fighting to counter this n keep her dum dum alive, zuko becomes paranoid as hell but reaches new heights in stealth, weaponry n first aid. Lala is counting down the days till she has a valid excuse to kill ozai. Azulon is pissed as hell that he can’t do anything from where he is apart from try to help zuko as much as he can by sending ppl he trusts to teach him n look after him. Iroh comes back n really throws a spanner in the works, dismissing his fathers ppl from around zuko, in the (how many??) months that he is back before zuko is shipped out has the highest number of nearly successful assassination attempts on zuko since ursa left. Ozai is not impressed (that they failed), lala is adding uncles name to her shit list, azulon is just mystified as to how his son who is a supposedly great tactician can be so damn stupid.
Then the agni kai happens n azulon is too pissed off at ozai to care about iroh anymore. Azula is leaving with zuko “as otherwise his only example of fire bending will be uncle father n really even dum dum is better than that, besides then if zuko dishonours the family I can kill him straight away.” She has spent too long keeping him alive now for him to ruin all her efforts now. Zuko still has the same soul mates but also has the marks for Lu ten, azula n yue. Azula has zuko, toph n yue. Lu ten has zuko, azula n boulder at the least. Toph has azula added to her group. 6 months after zuko is banished azulon manages to find their location n reach them before they leave, takes over teaching them again n rips iroh several new ones while the crew watches in awe n horror. Azulon finds out about zukos marks n what ozai did n nearly sinks the ship in his rage, lala is glad to find someone else to help her keep zuko alive even if she doesn’t fully trust him, the only one who gets that treasure is zuko. With azulon backing his thoughts about stopping the war n to start helping the ppl of his nation zuko is different by the time aang gets freed, he n lala (im still coming with u dum dum) start working with the gaang earlier n things go smoother? The fire royals end up going to the northern city with them where they meet yue, she n azula bond, azula teaches her to be terrifying, azulon just watches n makes cutting remarks on how stupid the norths misogyny is n just how under prepared they r for anything really, the small fleet of their southern sisters tribe could lay seige, win n not loose more than maybe 5 ppl n they r all non benders. Water ppl being pissed that they can’t kill azulon due to him not being fire lord anymore n is just a doting grandfather really look at how harmless n unarmed I am, they have no claimable vendetta to excuse their killing him as lawful by tribe standards, as the tribe isolated itself n has had no real damage from azulon, also he has already been declared dead which is throwing them a little. Hahn being stupid enough to try n take azulon on, azulons bitch face is epic n lala vows to replicate it one day. Political marriage betrothal between yue n zuko? This azulon is a mix of grumpy old man, sarcastic little shit n im-too-fabulous-for-this attitude. When they find toph is also when they find boulder n Lu ten, zuko n azula bond with him n that breaks the amnesia n katara might be able to help heal his chi?
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waterbearwaltz · 3 years
Text
Together, Apart
For @kataang-week‘s Kataang Valentine’s Bash 2021.
I swear I tried to write something happy for this, but tbh after this last year all that’s left in me is sadness and pornography. So that’s what I’ve got for you.
Prompt pair: Together and Apart
Summary: Katara and Aang deal with an outbreak of illness in the Earth Kingdom.
Rating: Explicit. | Word Count: ~10k | Ao3
Katara held her hands over the young girl’s chest, focusing the water’s energy into a living swirl of light. She felt chi swell where she held the water, and the skin flushed as blood followed suit. Shae breathed a bit faster, but didn’t stir. She was used to this now, they’d been at it for months. Slowly, Katara felt something like a well filling beneath her fingers, and a sudden rush as the energy began to flow again on its own, unimpeded by tissue that had been dying just an hour earlier. 
This was so different from the healing she’d done during the war. Broken bones, burned skin, injuries that she could see and touch and understand. When she’d worked on Sokka’s broken leg, it was like the fragments of bone ached to join back together, they just needed a little push. It seemed so much easier, in retrospect. Then again, maybe those injuries had just been more spread out in time.
Katara sat back on her heels and let out a breath, slipping the water back into the bowl beside her. The sun was just dipping below the tree line, filling the makeshift hospital tent with warm orange light. Her eyes moved over the empty beds, it was the most deserted she’d seen the place since she arrived. An exhausted smile pulled at her lips. “I think that’s enough for today, Shae.”
The girl opened her eyes and shot Katara a mischievous grin. “Can I show you something, Yisheng?” she asked, using the colloquial term for healer in this part of the Earth Kingdom. 
“Sure,” Katara replied with the same tired smile. Shae rolled off the mat and onto her feet, slipping out of the tent into the gathering night. Katara stood in the doorway and watched her young patient rock back on one foot and launch into a set of cartwheels with a breathless little shriek. 
“Are you watching? Are you watching?” 
Katara laughed. “I’m watching, Shae. Be careful though, you’ll tire yourself out!”
“No I won’t I’m completely--” Shae’s argument was cut off by a sharp fit of coughs, and she grasped her knees to steady herself. Katara rushed forward and slipped a steady arm around her. 
“Come on, let’s get you home, your mom will be worried.”
Shae leaned on her as they walked, and when she spoke again her voice was breathy but excited. “You know what would help her worry less? if you tell her how much better I’m doing. I mean, if I can do six whole cartwheels I’m definitely healed enough to play with Sonna and Jai tomorrow, right?”
“I’ll talk to her meimei, but we still have a ways to go before you’re better.”
--
When they’d first arrived in Dei Shung, it was to help fly healers in from the north and distribute aid from the Fire Nation. The reports of illness and unrest in the town hadn’t prepared them for the devastation they found when they got there. Katara and Sokka got the healers set up while Aang and Toph met with the mayor about alleviating the panic that had gripped the town. They broke up frenzied mobs, bent makeshift shelters to replace buildings that had been destroyed, anything they could think of that might help restore order. Toph and a couple of her metal bending students got to work chasing off the bandits who were circling the town like vultures, picking off the weak as they fled. 
Sokka was the first to take ill, just a few days after they arrived. For him it was fever, with a blotchy red rash creeping up from under the collar of his tunic. Katara caught it fast, thank the spirits, and sent him away along with anyone else who wasn’t essential. This wasn’t the manageable illness they’d been expecting to find, and it was just too dangerous to have anyone exposed to who didn’t need to be. She tried to send Aang with them, but it was pointless. 
“If I was staying, would you leave?” he asked. They both knew the answer to that. His expression was soft, but Katara had learned the subtle signs of his resolve. The slightly furrowed brow, the edge of intensity to his gaze, his grip on her hand just a little bit tighter than it needed to be, as though she might try to physically force him onto the airship. For all the airbender in him, he’d learned to be immovable when he needed to be. So they stood together as the ship left the dock, ferrying their friends back to safety along with anyone healthy enough to pack up their lives and flee.
The next few weeks were a blur. Katara spent all day in the healing tents raking water along body after body, feeling like she was trying to keep an entire town from drowning. Sometimes she wondered if she was making any difference at all. At night Aang would settle behind her in their room, and they’d talk quietly about their days while he worked the knots out of her neck. The first time she lost a patient, she cried the whole night. The next day, she lost three more. 
“Remember when you told me about the night Avatar Roku died?” she whispered into his neck one night after she was too exhausted to cry anymore. He pulled away just enough to look at her. Their bed was pushed up to the window and the night was clear and bright and she saw the glint of unshed tears in his eyes. He nodded, brushing hair from her damp face, brow tense with concern. 
“This feels like that. Like fighting...I don’t know, a force of nature. It just keeps coming, Aang. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to stop it.”
“No one’s expecting you to stop it alone.” He kissed her forehead and fell quiet for a moment, considering. ”Do you want to leave? It’s ok if you do. I can stay behind or come with you, back to Ba Sing Se, or wherever you want to go.” Another pause, and then, more quietly,  “I’m worried about what this is doing to you, Katara.” 
She was deeply ashamed that this thought had already crossed her mind, a few days ago at the bedside of a young man about her age. He had broad shoulders and a deep laugh, and spent the first day cracking jokes with the healers and offering his help with the older patients. Then, all at once, it just ripped through him. By the time Katara got to him, there was nothing she could do. Her eyes began to sting again but she set her jaw and shook her head. “I can’t leave these people. Even if I can’t stop this, I have to try. They need every healer they can get.”
He pulled her against him, one arm tight around her back and the other cradling the back of her head. “I love you. And I’m here for you, whatever you need. We’ll get through this, I promise.”
“I love you too.”
About a month after they arrived, Amka, one of the older healers, got sick. They took turns caring for her amidst all the other patients. Her daughter, Nukka, worked on her the most. It was always fastest with the elderly. A quick funeral behind the hospital was all they could manage. Katara asked Nukka if she wanted to say a few words, but she was beyond speech. In the end, they all stood quietly around the grave before breaking off, a few at a time, to return to work. Katara stayed the longest, one hand rubbing Nukka’s back as she sobbed, the other gripping Aang’s so tight it hurt.
The next day she woke up to Aang shivering next to her in bed.
“No” a hoarse whisper tore out of her mouth. She could feel her heart pounding in every part of her body as she ripped the blankets off him and rolled him onto his back. He moaned groggily, fighting to wake up. Her breath quickened. He was usually up with the sun. 
There were pins and needles in her hands as she ran them over his chest, arms, neck, checking for the telltale rash. She pushed him onto his side to check his back. Nothing. 
“Katara, what are you doing?” his voice thick with sleep. 
“This is not happening” she muttered, more to herself than him. One hand pulled the water from her satchel across the room while the other yanked him down the bed so she could straddle him more easily. It started in the lungs, if she could kill it there they’d have a chance. 
“Katara!” He caught her wrists and the spirit water dropped, soaking them both. Her eyes snapped to his. He was wide awake now, alert and pale and a little panicked. Her heart was beating so hard it made her head spin and her skin feel raw. 
“Fever,” she choked out, suddenly aware she was crying. “You have a fever, I have to--” she shook his hands off hers and pulled the water off the bed and out of their clothing, coaxing it back to a gentle glow.
“Katara, it’s ok, I feel fine. This might not even be--”
“I know exactly what it is” she spat, feeling the familiar blocked energies in his chest, the fluid pooling in his lungs. She couldn’t believe how stupid she’d been, she should have insisted he leave with Sokka and the others. She should have forced him, begged him, tricked him, anything to get him on that ship. Her vision blurred and she impatiently blinked away tears, struggling to keep her concentration. A barking sob came from somewhere, maybe her, and his hands were on hers again, bending the water into a bowl on the nightstand and gathering her toward him. 
“No, Aang I have to--” 
“I know Sweetie, just take a minute, please.” His voice was thin and had a pleading edge to it that just unnerved her more.
“There’s no time, I need to start before it spreads!” She had to stop to suck in air between words. She felt like she was fighting a battle and losing, struggling just to keep feet underneath her. 
“We have a minute. Please Katara, you’re scaring me. Just breath. Please. For me.”
Katara wanted to argue but couldn’t find the air to get the words out. She tried to pull back but her limbs felt thick and numb and her muscles weren’t responding. Another of those barking sobs scraped out of her chest and he lifted himself against the headboard, tucking her against him and stroking her back, her hair, her arms. 
“Try to breathe with me ok? In and out. Just match my breath. That’s it. Nice and slow.” Her cheek was pressed against his chest and she rose and fell with him as he breathed. No matter how much air she sucked in it felt like she was suffocating. She breathed anyway, matching his rhythm as well as she could manage. Bit by bit, feeling returned to her limbs, and the vice around her chest began to dissolve. His heart beat against her ear and she turned her face into it, trying to breath in his skin, tasting the sweat on his chest. 
“I can’t lose you too,” she whispered into him. He kissed the top of her head. 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he rumbled beneath her. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m the avatar. It’s pretty hard to kill me. Plus, the best healer in the world is totally in love with me, so I think I’m pretty safe.”
She heard the smile in his voice and felt a hot surge of anger. She pushed herself up enough to see his face. 
“I couldn’t save Amka or Aia, or Sammi, or Lee’s twins, or--” she broke off, the dead stretching out before her. She didn’t even know all their names anymore. The anger left as quickly as it had come. She let her head drop back against his chest, as tired as she could ever remember being. 
“I know. I know. This is a terrible tragedy. But you’re not a god, Sweetie. No one expects you to save every person who gets sick. But think of everyone you did save. Katara, how many people are alive right now because of you?”
They were quiet for a few minutes, breathing together on the bed. Finally, she reached up and kissed him softly. His face was hot under her hands. “Please. I need to start working on you now.” 
“I know. Just take care of yourself too, ok? I’m going to be fine. I’m in good hands.” The way he looked at her with total trust twisted something in her chest. Her throat felt tight and she cleared it to push back the tears.
“Lay down.”
She worked through the day and well into the night. He slept fitfully for most of it as the fever crested and she fought to keep it at bay, to keep the sickness from settling deeper into him. She’d caught it early, she thought. He was muddled, but not incoherent. He couldn’t have been running a temperature for more than a few hours.
Moving over his prone form like this reminded Katara far too much of the weeks after Ba Sing Se fell, and she did her best to seal that thought tightly in the back of her mind. Coming undone again would only hurt him, he needed her calm, focused, and attentive. 
He was larger than her now, more difficult to maneuver, but the ebb and flow of his energies felt the same. There was an intimacy here that never occurred to her with her other patients. She was reaching inside him, guiding the most basic systems in his body. Under different circumstances it might have been beautiful.
A day passed, maybe two. Katara grew more and more tired until she passed through tiredness altogether. Being immersed in the rhythms of someone else’s body for so long, it was easy to forget her own. Like after Ba Sing Se fell. No, not that. Here. This. Him. 
Finally, when she’d done everything she could think of twice over, she paused, blinking blearily out the window at the rising sun. There was a cold bowl of soup on the nightstand. Someone must have brought it to her, but she couldn’t remember when. She checked Aang one last time and collapsed next to him, grateful for the darkness that swallowed her.
----
Continue on Ao3
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spasmsofthought · 4 years
Text
Wild.
A little drabble to get me through my feelings right now. This is definitely more OC-centric, but was fun to explore! 
Let me know what you think! xo 
The city is demolished before your eyes, and the wall is in tatters. Before, the Northern Water Tribe had been able to resist the Fire Nation’s efforts to conquer. There had always been whispers that your fortress was like Ba Sing Se (though you had never been there); an unconquerable, impenetrable fortress that kept within it your culture and an entire people free from the oppression of the Fire Nation for decades. Ice chunks have been ripped off of houses and bridges have been ripped apart for the sake of battle. The black smoke is mixed in with the well familiar sight of the white snow you’ve seen your entire life. 
The damage of fire-bending is easy to spot, though easy to remedy in light of the male waterbenders present in the Tribe. 
There is much to grieve of, though, not concerning building structures and a violent affront to an otherwise mostly peaceful life. The red moon was a frightening sight to those who had been depending on it for balance and victory; to keep away destruction and death. The loss of Yue is not just the loss of the princess but the loss of a daughter. The loss of a friend. 
She had been the only one to understand. 
You hadn’t been at the oasis to watch her give her life for her people, to end a battle, and all anyone will tell you now was that she was watching over you all as the Moon Spirit. You hadn’t been there to watch her fade away in Sokka’s arms. 
You hadn’t been there. 
It had been hard to grasp at first, but now it’s just bittersweet to look at the moon and try to find her face in it. 
You hear Tolan’s footsteps before he decides to make himself known. It has always been this way. He has always been easy to see, easy to be heard. 
“I found her!” He says back to what you assume are his parents (yours had passed a year and a half ago, right after they orchestrated your betrothal). 
You don’t bother to look to him, watching as the Avatar and his friends fly away on the only sky bison you have ever seen in your entire life. He comes to stand by you as you watch the hope of your world fade away as the sun does too. 
“We’ve been looking for you for ages now,” He says as he turns his body to face your stiff one. “Why are you out here?” 
The betrothal necklace seems to burns the skin on your throat, making it hard to swallow or take a deep breath in. Everything feels shallow. 
“I’m waiting for the moon.” Your eyes stay fixed on the sky but you can tell Tolan’s shoulders slump in defeat. He knows you grieve deeper than most. 
You have half a mind to leave in the dark of night and flee to the sister Tribe down south, whose somewhat looser customs have been spoken of softly by some of the elders. There have been some who have run away. 
But you know little of how you would survive the journey there. 
It is another unpleasant revelation after so many. Your best friend dying, your betrothal to a man who you do not know, your parents dying, and being stuck in a place that remains isolated from the rest of the world during a war you’ve only just experienced but has been going on for a whole century. 
Tolan is kind but it is not enough. It never feels like enough. 
You’ve never stepped foot out of the wall. Not once. 
You have always wanted more. 
Your hands press against the icy railing to try and feel something other than numbness. It doesn’t work. Your eyes stay to the sky, willing the sun to set faster so that you can see your friend again. 
“We made sea squid tonight at the hut for supper. It’s still warm. Just know it will be waiting for you when you come in for bed.” You can feel his eyes on you, but there is nothing you can muster for him. 
He knows that you do not want to be married to him yet, if at all. He does not know that seeing ice and water for the rest of your life will not satisfy you. He does not know that you hold out for something else. 
You want to stroll the streets of the Earth Kingdom and talk to refugees fleeing the war, if only to understand. You want to taste new spices and drink new juices. You want to see another culture with your own eyes; all of its colors and differences. 
You are tired of apathy and survival. 
You do not want to be free in a place where it feels like freedom has to be locked in a box. You can only be a healer with your bending, your husband is chosen for you, and there is no reason to ever go anywhere. 
Tolan sighs and sweeps a gentle hand over your tied hair, like it will help you somehow. It just leaves you stiff and frozen. 
You do not know if he blames you or resents you for not wanting him right now, but there is nothing to do about it. 
Maybe one day you will love him. 
Maybe one day this will be enough for you. 
You are grateful for the Avatar saving you all, as well as Yue, but there is little change to your life even in the wake of such life-altering events. Do you dare to hope for change that may never come? 
Maybe one day, dreaming of being wild and free will be just that: a dream.
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fly-pow-bye · 4 years
Text
DuckTales 2017 - “The Rumble for Ragnarok!”
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Story by: Francisco Angones, Madison Bateman, Colleen Evanson, Christian Magalhaes, Ben Siemon, Bob Snow
Written by: Bob Snow
Storyboard by: Vince Aparo, Kristen Gish, Victoria Harris
Directed by: Tanner Johnson
The Fly says...
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In Norse mythology, there’s this cosmically giant snake named Jörmungandr that encircles the Earth, constantly eating its own tail. It is told that Jörmungandr releasing its tail from its maw would begin a series of events known as Ragnarok. To make a long story short, it's the end of the world, though someone does insert a coin to try it again.
In the world of DuckTales 2017, this tail releasing happens every ten years, according to one of Scrooge’s epic speeches, and it's an epic speech he is well qualified for, as it's because of his ability to defeat Jörmungandr that the world hasn't ended yet. Huey has many science-based questions about this, because the kids wouldn’t get that the joke is that this mythological beast doesn’t exactly follow the rules of physics if he didn’t say “science-based.” Huey is going to be our designated plot hole revealer of the episode.
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This story is being told to Huey, Dewey, Louie, and Webby, as even he knows that he would eventually have to pass the torch. Who it could be: could it be Webby, Huey, or Louie? Dewey asks if him getting left out means Scrooge is saving the best for last, and Scrooge just says yes in a manner that doesn't exactly convey confidence. Huey, the aforementioned plot hole revealer, asks why Donald or his mom couldn't have that torch.
Scrooge: I don't trust Donald and Della to cooperate on a jigsaw puzzle, much less the fate of the universe.
Yeah, because the boys have never fought against each other, ever. The real excuse is that they'd rather have a plot with these relatable youths. It's a shame; I would have loved to see Donald or Della do their trademark fighting styles against these mythological beasts. Yes, these kids would be far more likely to learn a lesson in the end, especially our designated lesson learner Dewey, but maybe Donald and Della could learn to cooperate, too. Alas, they never appear.
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They fly to Valhalla, courtesy of Launchpad flying into a rainbow. Valhalla: so majestic, even Launchpad couldn’t crash in it as he makes a decent landing right in front of the building. I almost didn't notice that oddity.
Scrooge is ready to fight that giant snake, currently the size of the entire planet, as even the other kids have their jaws agape that Scrooge could remotely tickle him, never mind harm him. But don't worry, Huey’s question on how that could happen is explained: when Jörmungandr unleashes his tail from his mighty maw, he transforms into a duck-sized snake man-beast. Now it makes perfect sense, or at least that’s what Huey sarcastically says.
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Passing by people wearing "Scrooge vs. Jörmungandr" t-shirts, they open the door to reveal the arena this fight is going to take place in, with pyrotechnics, a roped ring, and a bunch of fans rhythmically chanting. Huey finds this kind of arena quite familiar, and Launchpad is so giddy about what this will entail, he just has to say what this is.
Launchpad: Whoa! It's wrestling!
Audience: This is awe-some!
Launchpad: This is awe-some!
With Launchpad and the audience referencing the famous "this is awesome" chant, this episode reveals itself to be an episode about professional wrestling, which apparently ripped off these Valhalla battles according to Scrooge.
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From the amount of pro wrestling I watched, there's one thing I know for sure: fowls and pro wrestling probably shouldn't mix. Whether it be the Red Rooster and his "fanbase" of "Rooster Boosters", or the Gobbledy Gooker that popped out of an egg and spent quite a few minutes during a pay-per-view doing the Chicken Dance with the late Mean Gene. If there's anything that can heal the relationship between these kinds of animals and pro wrestling, it's a well-liked reboot of a classic Disney cartoon about ducks.
As Dewey gets excited by the chance of having all of his bones broken and have people love him for it, the giant ouroboros in the sky transmogrifies into The Rattlesnake himself.
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Well, okay, he's not a rattlesnake, and I'm sure most of Stone Cold Steve Austin's gimmick wouldn't fly on TV Y7 programming as he seems to be more like The Rock, but anyone could get the idea. It's Jörmungandr, the People's Champion and Chairman of the VWE. He's also said to be the beloved underdog, which does make sense considering the world hasn't ended in at least a millenium.
He begins this with a promo about how grateful he is to be in his arena, being cheered on by all the fallen warriors who died gloriously in battle, and he assures them that the rest of Earth will join them. The Rumble for Ragnarok 100: Maybe The 100th Times The Charm! They don't really say that subtitle. They do introduce his opponent, who, outside of this ring, is the beloved billionaire who has saved the world countless times.
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But nobody would ever cheer a billionaire babyface, as Scrooge's gimmick is the heel Millionaire Miser, a cross between The Million Dollar Man Ted DiBiase and Irwin R. Schyster. Wrestling terms are used throughout the episode, and Launchpad does explain to the kids at home what "heel" and "babyface" means.
One term that doesn't come up is "kayfabe", the idea that these characters and their actions in the ring are portrayed as real, and that term could tie into one of the major plot points of this episode: that Dewey is completely offended that, in the ring, his uncle is seen as a bad guy. Granted, that term is more used to point out that pro wrestling is scripted, and this rumble is portrayed as completely legitimate. There's certainly no tired jokes about wrestling being fake.
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After a botch involving a giant money bag taking out the intended color commentator for this PPV, who was clearly the late Gorilla Monsoon as a penguin, the replacement. Huey Duck is a veteran sports commentator, having earned his Junior Woodchuck badge in it, though his experience as a pro wrestling color commentator seems to be slim to none. In contrast, Launchpad's knowledge of sports entertainment even manages to give him the foreknowledge of what's going to happen, as Huey points out as the plot hole revealer.
There's a lot of humor with Huey not knowing what is happening on stage and trying the best he could, while misnaming wrestling moves and generally getting everything wrong in the process. There was a particularly disastrous wrestling PPV called Heroes of Wrestling which had a similar problem with one of its commentators. Ugh, I don't want to be reminded of that one.
Launchpad announces that there will be three matches, all of them the heroes of Valhalla vs. the dreaded Millionaire Miser.
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Our first match is Strongbeard vs. The Millionaire Miser. As Strongbeard enters the ring, he decides to give one of the audience members one of his beard hairs, which has the ability to bestow his amazing strength. He's practically telling his opponent what he should do to defeat him. Wrestlers usually wait until they get in the ring before they do that.
As the audience chants his catchphrase, "fear the beard", and booes the Miser, Dewey tells his Uncle Scrooge that he shouldn't put up with this. Scrooge assures Dewey that he's just acting as the heel because it's the right thing to do, right before mocking the audience for not being the richest duck in the world like he is.
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Much like in an actual battle, the Millionaire Miser has to use his smarts, as muscle is something he doesn't exactly have. The Miser tries to take down Strongbeard with his trademark Unbreakable Penny Pincher Hold, or, as Huey calls it, a sedative neck massage, only to be punched by a Beard Fake-Out. Dewey protests this use of what he thinks is a bad guy tactic, only to have food thrown at him.
He may or may not have gotten that gigantic hint from before, as he reveals that he stole one of the hairs on Strongbeard's chinny-chin-chin, giving him the strength to pin Strongbeard clean, scoring a point for Team Earth pretty quickly. This loss happened almost as fast as when fan-favorite-and-also-bearded Daniel Bryan got pinned in 18 seconds by Sheamus at WrestleMania XXVIII, and it's revealed to be just as well liked as that match as the audience showers the arena with boos and empty popcorn tins.
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Dewey is not going to stand for this, and tries to convince the audience to stop cheering for a giant dragon man who wants to destroy the Earth, and start cheering for the billionaire that has prevented the destruction of the Earth multiple times. It's well established that this audience wants the Earth to be destroyed, as this event is literally for the Ragnarok, but his ignorance is a Dewey thing to do.
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That ignorance angers one audience member so much that he decides to throw a wooden chair at him, a reference to the classic chair shot done many, many times in pro wrestling. The Millionaire Miser does manage to save him from an unintentional injury, as much as the fans really wanted that to happen. Unfortunately, this causes a different injury: this breaks Scrooge's back, forcing him to see what his next generation can do. It is heartbreaking to see Scrooge actually having to use his cane in ways other than hopping on enemy's heads, that's for sure.
Thankfully, Jörmungandr, as the babyface of the company, decides to rebook the second match as a tag-team match and not instantly declare victory over the Earth. Even Webby claims this makes Jörmungandr such a good guy, though Dewey disagrees. Scrooge does come to the obvious conclusion that Webby should be one of the team members, but he knows that he couldn't choose Huey because he doesn't know anything about wrestling. As for Louie...
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He's too busy selling merchandise to the fans, somehow printing T-shirts of things that just happened. This is reminding me of another disaster, though not one related to wrestling, where a green person was selling T-shirts throughout the episode. Ugh, I don't want to be reminded of that one, either.
Scrooge suggests to himself that maybe Webby could tag-team with herself, but Dewey claims that he should fight. Scrooge tells him he's not ready, and Dewey ends up agreeing with that, giving up on the idea that Dewey Duck could be a champ...
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...but Champ Popular can be a champ! Using a gimmick not too far off from the persona in his own 90's school sitcom dreams, he knows he can win the fans over by offering them lollipops. Even the music goes silent after that suggestion, as if it was a movie trailer. He decides to let him go through with this anyway, cheering him on, but telling Webby to do the fighting. In Dewey's mind, he knows this gimmick will turn the boos into woos. He doesn't look anything like Ric Flair!
Unfortunately, his plans for popularity doesn't work, as the lollipops are interpreted to mean that he thinks the audience are suckers. Webby shows up...and she's just Webby. I get that the joke is that Webby is just being her cute usual self, but it's kind of disappointing considering a lot of this plot hinges on embracing a character. It's not that the plot isn't there, as she gets booed slightly less, but it doesn't get to her as much as it gets to Dewey. Pretty much all the focus is on Dewey, and I think anyone can guess what's going to happen with this match even if the opponent wasn't going to be the ruler of the underworld.
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Sure enough, Champ "Un" Popular and Webby has to fight Hecka, who is based on the Norse ruler of the underworld whose name is too similar to a word one couldn't say on Disney XD. What do you know, a reboot actually manages to do some research on Norse mythology besides "big dumb vikings". Hecka is joined by her pet wolf in both the myths and here, Fenrir, or "Fenny" as he's referred to on his dog bowl. This won't be the only "dog/wolf" joke in the episode.
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She's also clearly The Undertaker, even referencing his trademark get up spot after a failed attempt to knock him out with a elbow drop. With the Undertaker, that happens after his opponent knocks him down, but Dewey can't even get that far because all of that booing. Scrooge is on the sidelines trying to get him to "embrace the boos", but Dewey just can't seem to shake off his lack of popularity in the ring. Dewey is all about his popularity, something that was shown with the "Dewey Dew-Night" shorts and pretty much everywhere else, so it's easy to understand why that alone would cause him to shiver.
He tags in Webby, who ends up doing a far better job at embracing her inner heel by comparing her opponents unfavorably to the Greek mythological warriors. She even manages to pin Hecka before good ol' Fenny interrupts the pin. Dewey tries to get a "cheater" chant going, but that's completely legal even in a non-Valhalla-rules tag-team match. Surprised that doesn't come up at all in this episode, especially with what happens later.
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Webby does see Fenrir, and she tries to offer a belly rub. Get it, because while he's a mythological wolf, he's a still a dog! At first, it seems like that works, until Fenrir reveals that was just an act, and he throws her out of the ring.
As Webby slowly wakes up and tries to get back into the ring before this match ends in a countout, which is only implied, Dewey knows how to win. Unfortunately for Scrooge, he meant "win them over", as he tries to use his trusted lollipops to feed the puppy. Hey, it probably would have worked on Burger Beagle if he was still the glutton character he was in the original! Unfortunately, Fenrir is a non-walking and talking dog, and the audience calls him out for trying to feed candy to a dog. In those words; why would the Valhallans call him a dog?
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Webby does show up to pin Fenrir and knocks out Hecka in the process, giving Champ Popular ample time to give Team Earth 2-0 and end this episode far earlier than expected. Of course, that doesn't work, and Fenrir gets out of Webby's pin to pin Champ Popular for the win, making the score 1-1.
But wait, Dewey was never tagged back in, and Fenrir wasn't tagged in at all, so this isn't a legal pin either way. It's possible that Webby was also getting pinned by Hecka at the same time, and there's nothing that disproves this. However, it seems that DuckTales 2017 is unwilling to have Webby show any kind of weakness even if it's all Dewey's fault. Launchpad reassures the audience that the world isn't coming to an end...
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Jörmungandr: ...YET! (air guitars)
Deciding that Team Earth's lackluster performance is probably making his PPV not nearly as good as it should be, Jörmungandr rebooks the final match as well to be a battle royale, with just himself against all of the mortals of Team Earth. The rules are changed, too: people are eliminated if they fall outside of the ring, but one pinfall can also end the match for either team. This looks to be the third episode in a row that just turns into another giant fight scene with all of the beloved Disney Ducks, but it is separated a little.
While Webby distracts Jörmungandr with her own heel promo, Scrooge tries to give Dewey the pep talk. This unfortunately only ends with him implying that he's just not cut out for this, which only makes him feel worse. Gotta say, that's really Millionaire Miser of him, even if he's not wrong.
Back to the heel promo, Jörmungandr tells her he's not scared of Webby, and she adds that she isn't the one to be scared of.
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It's the Millionaire Miser's Maid, the Shield Maiden, and she's a stunt granny! Sorry, I had to reference that one obscure TV special when I had the chance. I even see that she put on a costume similar to Thor's, who was the one that fought Jörmungandr in the original myths! This is also a reference to an original episode, "Maid of the Myth", which also references Norse mythology. Probably not a coincidence.
I have no idea how she could even be here, nor is it really even brought up. Almost all the other plot holes were pointed out, why not this one? Well, there may be a slight explanation to that one, as our designated plot hole revealer decided to leave the announcer's table because of his failures.
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It's up to Louie this time to do his pep talk to both Dewey and Huey this time, and he's way more successful than Scrooge. He pretty much just gives up that t-shirt joke at this point in the episode just so he can fill this role. I guess they had to find someone, as everyone else was too busy either moping or fighting. Whatever, this comes just in time, as Jörmungandr's curb stomping of almost everyone around him is causing Valhalla to shake. Wait, I thought it was the Earth getting destroyed, not Valhalla!
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Back in the ring, we see that I was slightly wrong: they can show Webby getting defeated on screen alongside her granny! The Millionaire Miser shows up too, alongside an unexpected swerve: the competent announcer was actually Captain Crash, and he's here to fight Jörmungandr!
Launchpad didn't realize nobody liked this when Michael Cole did the same thing for far too long, and he gets taken out rather easily...alongside the Millionaire Miser. I was thinking Scrooge had a no jobbing clause even outside of the ring, but here we are. Who could possibly save us now? John Cena? ... actually, they don’t seem to make a reference to John Cena as far as I can tell.
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Well, we get the closest thing to John Cena even if he's way more like Bret Hart: Champ Popular, and this time it doesn’t matter if people boo him. In fact, he's knows he's so good, he shows it off in the most evil way possible: a bad joke followed by a high-five to signal that it was supposed to be funny! I do approve of the indirect bashing of the "fistbump in place of laugh track" trope!
So yes, it looks like Dewey has finally embraced his inner heel, and I'm sure Scrooge would be proud.
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Unfortunately, it's here where the episode loses me. The whole episode was building up to a lesson about that it okay to do the right thing even if it would lead to a lack of popularity. However...the crowd starts to see Jörmungandr as a heel all of a sudden? It seems like he’s not fighting with honor, but now people are starting to boo him in a snap!
It doesn't make sense; they were cheering for the end of the Earth, and they were totally fine when his fellow Team Valhalla members were beating up kids before. He was a jerk before this scene and people still loved him. Maybe he's more of a jerk now, or maybe they noticed Valhalla was also getting destroyed by the coming Ragnarok, but the ending just seems like a tacked on way to make Dewey look like the good guy even when he was supposed to be the bad guy.
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To make a long story short, the babyface and heel roles swap right in the middle of the match to the point where Dewey was able to borrow some of Strongbeard's impossible strength-giving beard. Why didn't Scrooge use that little hair he had in his part of this fight, which would have helped even if he had a broken back? Because Dewey wouldn't be able to learn his lesson that it's okay to do the right thing when people love you for it.
After the referee does what is clearly a fast count, as it seems like even he knows this episode has to be over in about a minute, Dewey is declared the champion, and he even gets awarded Jörmungandr's belt.
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But, in a shocking swerve, the Millionaire Miser takes the gold away from him, and Dewey and Scrooge get ready for an extra main event. Broken back be damned: Scrooge knows he can beat up a little kid! ...wait.
The episode ends like Rocky III, complete with a cheesy 80's song playing in this scene and in the credits. Why is a wrestling episode referencing a boxing movie? Well, Rocky III had that one scene where Rocky had to fight a wrestler named Thunderlips, played by Hulk Hogan, for charity, so I guess it's fitting?
How does it stack up?
There are some neat references to pro wrestling throughout the entire episode, and I do like the story's idea. The second match could have been directed better, the ending feels really tacked on, and leaving Donald Duck and Della Duck out of this felt like a cop out. I couldn't get into this one as much as some of the previous episodes.
While I wouldn't say this episode is bad, I'd say this is slightly less quality than Challenge of the Senior Woodchucks. This would make it the least best episode of Season 3 so far. If anything, that's a testament to how good this season has been so far, but that means this only gets a 3.
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Next, we have no idea, because the show's on hiatus again. However, I do have something for next week. In one week, I looked at the shorts. Next week, I look at some DuckTales 2017 commercials!
← Astro B.O.Y.D.! 🦆 The Commercials (Part 1?) →
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hrodvitnon · 4 years
Note
What's everyone in monarch's reaction to the tales of ba sing se? (RIP MAKO)
(Time to rewatch ATLA once I finish Utena!)
It's a great, fun episode watching the characters go about their day. They're impressed with Sokka's Haiku Rap Battle and Coleman wishes he could pull off that kind of wordplay; Maddie's tempted to have a spa day like Katara and Toph, but laughs the hardest at Aang's shenanigans; the adults are between "isn't she moving a little fast?" and "oh I remember my first date" during Zuko's story.
Everyone breaks down at the end of Iroh's story. "Brave soldier boy come marching home..."
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minicoopdetat · 4 years
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character study.
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BASICS
FULL NAME: August Levi Cooper
HOW IS IT PRONOUNCED?: August like the month, Chicken Coop- ER
IS THERE A MEANING BEHIND IT?: His mom loves a good hippy-esque name and fall is her favorite time of year. Fall’s a shitty name though and her choice was between Autumn and August, depnding on gender.
NICKNAMES: Coop. Cooper. Coop deville. Coop de Tat. Mini Coop. (( all of which he came up with))
AGE: 23.
DATE OF BIRTH:  April 2.
ZODIAC SIGN: Aries.
PLACE OF BIRTH: Salinas, ca.
HOMETOWN: Salinas, ca
LOCATION: Dayton, California
NATIONALITY: American.
EDUCATION LEVEL: BA in Biological Science.
OCCUPATION: Vet Tech at the local Animal Clinic
MENTAL CONDITIONS: Undiagnosed ADHD
PHYSICAL IMPAIRMENTS: None
ADDICTIONS: Sex. Sexting. Saying the work Fuck or any variation of it. Partying
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE
HEIGHT: 5′10
BODY TYPE: fuckin ripped. that’s all you need to know
EYE COLOUR: Hazel
HAIR COLOUR: Brunette
HAIR STYLE Geled and combed to bedhead perfection
STYLE: varies, very party boy chic, but can clean up well if need be. 
PIERCINGS: none
TATTOOS: he has seven ‘dragon balls’ in various places ( 1:inner wrist, 2: inner wrist, 3: shoulder blade, 4: hip , 5: behind his ear, 6: back of neck 7:ass); nightwing symbol (ankle); squirtle squad shades ( coming soon )
PERSONALITY
POSITIVE TRAITS: loyal. optimistic. passionate. outgoing. confident
NEGATIVE TRAITS: loud. tactless. gullible. dramatic. reckless 
WHAT DO THEY CONSIDER TO BE THE BEST AND THE WORST PART OF THEIR PERSONALITY?: Best part? His confidence. It’s something he was picked at for as a kid. He was way TOO MUCH and there were times he felt bad about his high energy, but he’s grown to embrace it and wear it that EXTRANESS like a fuckin gym badge. Worst part? What do you mean worst part? It’s all great. Unless you count the part where he can get over whelmed/overstimulated. Or you know, the fact he gets conned on the regular due to his trusting nature.
ARE THEY MORE EXTROVERTED OR INTROVERTED?: Extroverted.
ANY TALENTS?: He’s a 3rd degree blackbelt and speaks Japanese. His epic pkmn battling skills. 
WHAT ARE THEIR FEARS?: dying alone and forgotten. skeletons. 
ANY ALLERGIES?: none
DO THEY HAVE ANY PHOBIAS?: not the universe its self, but the idea that one life is nothing but a speck, maybe tinier, in the grand scheme of things
WHAT IS THEIR SOFT SPOT?: friends & family. animals. underdogs. his ears and his collar bone.
LIST 3 PET-PEEVES THEY CAN’T STAND: shoes in the house. shoes in general. passive agressive behavior.
PAST
BEST MEMORY:  When his entire family came out to his last soccer game to be his cheering section despite being ousted by the rest of the team. He sat the bench, due to the fight, but they made a big deal out of it anyway.
WORST MEMORY: His first panic attack. He was in 4th grade and being sent to the principal’s office. It was a rainy day, so they’d been stuck inside the entire time and gym wasn’t for another hour or so. It was the classic struggle for him and Ms. Donaldson. She wanted him to sit still and well-- he needed to move. In kindergarten, pacing around, wiggling, bouncing, all that might’ve been excusable cause Kindergarteners were little. They couldn’t help it. But a nine year old? She had trouble giving him the same leeway so to make an example of him, she sent him to the principal’s. Fine. He didn’t care until he got half way down the hall and suddenly it felt like his chest was on fire. It tightened and he found himself struggling to breathe, leaving him light headed and trembling. He thought he was fucking dying and it didn’t help that he could see a class coming from the computer lab. So rather than let anyone see him, he ducked into the nearest broom closet and shut the door. Didn’t help. It was small. Too small and he tried the door. It didn’t budge. He tried again. Nothing. The room felt like it was getting smaller and smaller, his chest tighter to the point he was sobbing and banging on the door. He was going to die in there. He was sure of it. And he had so much to do. He hadn’t finished the last Saga of DBZ. He needed to take his black belt test. He never even got to ask Chelsey C out to get ice cream and he was so so sure he could score at least a kiss on the cheek and he leaned against the door, fists slamming on the door one last time before it opened, and he tumbled out into the floor. The principal, along with a good chunk of the his class were standing there as he crumpled and curled into a ball. Two minutes. That’s how long he’d been gone and how long it took for him to derail the first half of his school year. He did his best to ignore the teasing and generally did a good job. It wasn’t his last incident, but it was certainly the worst.
BIGGEST SECRET: He could’ve been a dad a few years ago. It was a random hook up and he was scared shitless, but planned on stepping up to do the right thing. She had a miscarriage though and he still wonders what his life would be like if she hadn’t.
BIGGEST WISH: To live life to the fullest, help animals out and have a strong support system. Oh and to prove Carol Baskin murdered her husband.
BIGGEST FEAR: Dying without anyone truly seeing him. He’s accepted himself, mess and all. He refuses to let anyone change what makes him him and refuses to beg anyone to see past his loud obnoxious self, but sometimes it’s all so exhausting. the idea of dying, and being thought of as just another insignificant fuck boi is fucking crushing.
FIRST KISS: Chelsey C. at the park across the street from the ice cream shop.
FIRST LOVE: Samantha Ruiz.  
CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND:  Adam Birch. Danielle Fitzgerald
CHILDHOOD PERSONALITY: Cooper was even more loud and showy than he is now. He had the energy of five Energizer bunnies and reeked havoc on the school. He actually had a special room dedicated to him at one point that the teacher just let him get his energy out in. Most of it was positive, though there were moments he became overwhelmed, angry or distraught. At first it was seen as dramatics, but it quickly snowballed to the point his teachers were requesting medicine of some sort. His mother enrolled him in therapy and they worked on rounding out his moods. It worked well enough that he was able to get by aside from a panic attack every once and a while. Other than that, he was and still very much is a high energy guy.
ROMANCE & SEXUALITY
TURN ONS: Daddy kink. Confidence. Doe eyes. Independence. Glasses. Eye contact. Dirty Talk. Honesty. Wax play. Playful banter/teasing/laughing during sex. Having his hands restrained. Marking. Boldness. A pulse.
TURN OFFS: Bathroom play. Indifference. Judgement. Cynicism. Bullies (emotional or physical)
MISCELLANEOUS
SPEAKING VOICE CLAIM: Gregg Sulkin
SINGING VOICE CLAIM: N/A
MOTHER’S NAME: elizabeth cooper
RELATIONSHIP WITH MOTHER: His mother is his biggest supporter and he loves her to death. She was there for him when he was struggling most and let him know it was ok to be him, no matter what other people thought or felt.
FATHER’S NAME: maxwell cooper
RELATIONSHIP WITH FATHER: His relationship with his father isn’t as close as he and his mother, but they love each other and have their own way of showing it.
SIBLINGS: maxwell cooper jr (36), summer cooper (34; heartborn), dawn cooper (32), buzz cooper (30; heartborn), willow cooper (28), skye cooper (26; heartborn)
PETS: Satoshi; “foster” dog
ROLE MODELS: His parents. His brother. Joe Exotic. Goku. 
FAVORITE PLACE: The animal shelter.
FAVORITE ANIMALS: White Tigers. Otters.
FAVORITE BOOKS: Most comics. The Giver.
FAVORITE MOVIES: Most of the Bond Movies. Hunger Games. Clue. Cabin in the Woods.
FAVORITE MUSIC: Anything by Usher. Childish Gambino. Doja Cat. MJ. Anything and everything really.
FAVORITE FOOD: Mexican. Steak. Crab Rangoon. THE RANGOON MOTHER.
QUIRKS
ARE THEY RIGHT OR LEFT HANDED?: Left Handed
WHAT’S A WORD THAT’S ALWAYS ON THEIR LIPS?: Fuck. DIck. Fuck Me.
WHAT LANGUAGES DO THEY SPEAK?: English and Japanese
DO THEY CURSE?: Excessively.
WHAT’S THEIR WORST HABIT(S)?: Talks about his dick too much. Clicks his tongue. Can’t sit still long periods of time. Trusts anyone and everyone.
DO THEY DRINK OR SMOKE? HOW FREQUENTLY?:  Yes, but not often. 
ARE THEY AN EARLY BIRD OR A NIGHT OWL?: Both. But leans toward Night Owl.
HOW TIDY IS THEIR ROOM?: Incredibly tidy as is the rest of his place.
HOW LONG TO THEY USUALLY TAKE GETTING READY?: About an hour on a good day. He’s got a routine and he doesn’t sacrifice quality for speed.
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ladyvegeets · 5 years
Text
Uncharted Waters -2-
Written for 2019 Brolai-week hosted by @saiyan--tales.
-2: Casual / Scars-
Cheelai led them towards a stall selling clothing and other wearable souvenirs. It was going to be a challenge finding anything in Broly’s size, especially without the engineering of the Frieza Force’s incredibly stretchy suits. But Broly wasn’t the only big alien in the universe. Surely they could find something.
“What have you got in our sizes?” Cheelai asked the squid-faced stall handler.
It eyed them over but if it had any qualms about their Frieza gear, it kept them to itself. Long purple tentacles slunk up to the roof of the stall where its items hung and started pulling a few options down. It offered her a skimpy yellow two-piece swimsuit.
Cheelai’s face seized in horror. “Uh�� I was thinking something more casual.”
The handler frowned but put the bikini aside and fished out some casual-wear for bipedal mammalians to peruse.
“What do you like?” Cheelai asked her tall companion.
Broly wasn’t even looking, his attention drawn elsewhere down the beach where he people-watched.
Not a fashionista then, not unless it came to Ba’s ear. Cheelai dug through their choices until she found a large charcoal-blue top with long sleeves that looked like it might fit him. It was lightweight, and had a cute picture of the beach on the front with the planetoid’s name written in the galactic alphabet. She held it up to Broly’s shoulders to gauge its fit.
“What do you think, big guy? Would you like to wear this?”
He glanced down. “I am comfortable as I am.”
“I know that, but we’re trying to be a little less obvious here with what we’re wearing.”
He frowned and his hand defensively curled over the knot of Ba’s ear.
“Oh, not that. You can still wear Ba,” she reassured. “But our armor is making us stick out like sore thumbs.” 
Broly looked down at his hands, puzzling over his thumbs while Cheelai took matters into her own hands. She gathered some clothes and thrust them at the handler. “We’ll take these, please!”
After settling their debt, she led Broly by the wrist closer the water. Dozens of people had already set up picnic blankets to relax and watch the sun go down. 
Broly let Cheelai lead the way, taking the opportunity to watch couples and young families walk the beach hand-in-hand — or whatever passed for hands among their species. He looked down at his own, Cheelai’s white-gloved fingers wrapped about his wrist-guard.
“Here should do!” she announced, coming to a stop. He almost walked into the back of her.
From the bag of newly bought goodies, Cheelai fished out a towel and fluffed it out, laying it down on the sand. She pulled off her boots before sitting cross-legged at one end, and beckoned for Broly to join her. His sheer size — and the towel designed for one — meant they had to sit knee-to-knee. 
“I hope this all fits. It’s a shame they didn’t have pants in your size” — his had ripped during his battle on Earth — “Those prices though, wow. Remind me to get into the tourism industry,” she said conversationally as she sorted the clothes. Broly smiled listening to her. The sound of her voice was pleasant, even if he didn’t always understand everything she said. His father had rarely spoken, and when he did it was mostly to bark orders or rant about King Vegeta and injustice.
…Vampa had been a quiet and joyless place.
Cheelai finished sorting her newly bought items. Grabbing the hem of her breast plate in both hands, she pulled it off in one smooth gesture, the armor stretching over her curves and revealing her simple purple top beneath. She placed the plate on the sand, soon followed by her gloves and socks. Somehow it made a big difference in her appearance. Without her armor she looked so… small. Easily breakable. Broly felt his brow furrow against an uneasy sensation stirring his gut.
“I’m going to change,” she announced, grabbing her bundle of new clothes in her arms and standing up.
Broly stood with her.
“Oh no, you can stay. I’ll be right back.” She started jogging up the beach. The uneasy feeling grew worse the further she went. Broly’s fists curled at his sides. Half-way up the beach, Cheelai turned on her heel and gave him a big grin and a wave. “Watch our stuff, okay big guy?”
His stomach eased, and his hands relaxed. He watched her the rest of the way to where little changing shacks and restrooms had been set up for public use. When Cheelai disappeared inside one, he finally sunk back to the towel, cross-legged and back upright.
She wanted him to guard. He was good at that. His father had him do it a lot.
The breeze was gentle on his skin, tugging at his hair much more pleasantly than the howling winds of Vampa usually did. The sand here was soft and white, not the coarse yellow-brown of home. There were no giant killer beetles, and the place was lush with vegetation and water. Never could Broly have imagined that such a place existed. He never had the chance to.
Nearby, two people cuddled on a blanket. The bigger of them was threading a flower into the smaller one’s hair as they stared adoringly into each other eyes.
It made him think of Cheelai’s eyes. They were pink. He had never seen pink before, or purple, until he met her. He didn’t even know what the words for those were until he’d brought them up to his father on Frieza’s ship. It had been a shock to learn Paragus already knew them.
“They’re just colors, Broly, what does it matter? How would it have helped your training any?”
Broly had let the matter drop, but it had bothered him ever since. How much of the universe had his father known yet never bothered to share with him?
Cheelai and Lemo weren’t like that. They didn’t tell him to shut up and train. They took their time, carefully teaching him new concepts and encouraging him to ask questions. Lemo gave the clearest explanations, but Cheelai’s were the most interesting and passionate, her pink eyes burning with emotion when she spoke of things that really excited her. Her moods were contagious, and Broly often found himself seeking her out over Lemo.
She was nice to be around. She didn’t leave him feeling that heavy anxiety he carried with him when at his father’s side, ever fearful of criticism or an electric bolt. When he was with Cheelai, he felt… at ease. Accepted.
Happy.
Someone got too close to the towel. Broly narrowed his eyes, muscles tensing, and glared at the person who dared encroach on his territory. The alien did a double-take and nearly stumbled over its own feet, scurrying to give Broly and towel a wide berth. Broly relaxed and enjoyed the sun and breeze, watching the cuddly couple on the blanket until Cheelai returned.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Cheelai dropped her purple outfit on the towel, newly dressed in cut-off shorts and a loose pale pink t-shirt. It had a wide scoop neck and hung half-off her shoulder, a little beach image printed on the front with symbols he couldn’t read. “Hey, you didn’t put yours on yet?” she asked.
“Mine?”
She plopped down in front of him, her tiny green toes pressing to his legs. She picked up the dark long sleeved top. “This. Let’s get it on you.”
Without fuss, she took his arms into her lap and tugged off his wrist guards. He allowed it without complaint. It reminded him of when she and Lemo first arrived back on Vampa. She had insisted on patching up the worst of his injuries. He had still been in shock then, deeply troubled after everything that had happened. Losing his father, his friends, most of his memories… He’d been forced back to Vampa to nurse his wounds without knowing if he would see anyone ever again. 
Without knowing if any of it had even been real. 
It had been an unpleasant few days.
Cheelai and Lemo had been very patient with him on their return. Cheelai spoke to him as normal, her voice a lifeline in his distress. She talked to him about this and that, treating his wounds and encouraging him to respond by asking about his scars. He liked the sensation of her hands on him. They were so gentle. Soothing. 
“One of those bugs did this to you?” she had asked, ghosting her fingertips over the large scar on his pectoral.
He had nodded, watching her delicate fingers on his body. Her touch had been so light it made his skin prickle.
“Arms!”
Broly snapped back to the present, seeing Cheelai holding up the long-sleeved top. He lifted his arms, and she slipped the top over him, laughing when his head got stuck in the collar. “There you are.”
Smoothing the top down his front, she cocked her head to get a better look at him. The picture on his top matched the one on her t-shirt. This pleased him. 
“Well, it’s a bit snug, but still. Very handsome,” she said.
“What is handsome?”
Her eyes widened, and a soft pink blossomed over her face. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he liked the look on her. 
“Ah, well…” Tucking her hair behind her ear, she looked down and replied, “It means, you look nice.”
He followed the line of sight to their bare feet, his easily twice the size of hers. There was another piece of clothing resting on the towel: a small cap which matched the color of his top. It was no flower, but he carefully put it on her head, tucking a few stray strands of her hair into place under it.
“Very handsome,” he announced, looking into her eyes.
Cheelai turned red. She tugged the cap low to hide her face as her toes curled against his shins. For some feeling he had no name for, he smiled.
~xoXox~
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head-and-heart · 6 years
Text
The 100 Highlights - “Exit Wounds” (5x06) ... 2.0
Hi guys. So some of you may be reading this title in mild confusion right now because “didn’t she already do a highlight post for 5x06?” 
And you would be right! I did, indeed, create a highlights post for this episode that you can view here. And I would be lying if I said it didn’t bring me some level of satisfaction in posting it, but - alas - it does not really fit the purpose of this series in the first place ... which was to spur positivity within the fandom for whenever we experience another inevitable meltdown.
My initial purpose of starting this series was, ironically enough, exactly for episodes like 5x06 - the episodes that fandom despises. I did a highlight post for 4x04 last year, another episode many people did not enjoy, in an attempt to put a more positive spin on it and lift the moods of people in fandom. My motivation for creating this series was mostly in the attempt to preserve the sanity of myself and the fandom as a whole.
So, forgive my petty crackpost. While I had my fun with it, it was always my intention to do another, more serious list of highlights for the episode when I gathered up the energy to do a rewatch.
So here it is. The new and improved (????) list of my favourite parts of 5x06:
People of Wonkru, hello and welcome to the 100th annual Hunger Games. I have to say, I did appreciate my wife, Charmaine Diyoza’s homage to THG. She grew up in the early 2000′s, she knows what’s up. Dropping a bunch of parachutes from the sky full of rations? Now that’s a power move. A woman after my heart.
“Two missiles and this war would be over.” “And then what? How many of our people are farmers? How many are engineers?”
Seriously CHARMAINE IS SO SMART. She’s not rash, she���s calculating. And she doesn’t fight needless battles. She isn’t here to kill, she’s here to take the valley. But she’s also willing to negotiate peace in order to reach her goals - she isn’t irrational, and she isn’t cruel. Never have I ever rooted for an “antagonist” on this show more. Every episode she just gets more likable and more relatable. She says everything I’m thinking, I swear.
“In war the greatest victory is the one that requires no battle.” I don’t think there has been a person in power on this show who has ever verbalized such a thing. It’s no wonder Kane is siding with Diyoza. Even if Octavia wasn’t such a tyrant, how could he resist teaming up with the one person who actually practices what he’s been preaching for all these years?
“We’re the only thing that can defeat us.” Why does this line feel like foreshadowing? 
Okay, I have to take a moment to scream (again) about how aggressively into Gaia’s look I am. Damn girl. No idea how you bleached your hair down there but good on you. Good. On. You.
“Gina at Mount Weather. Ilian in the conclave. Me, on that damn cliff.”
Listen. I fucking cheered at that line. I cheered. And I don’t think I have ever cheered for Octavia in anything she has ever done, or said, since maybe Season 2. I am not an Octavia fan. I’ve been pretty vocal about that, but this is one of the few moments during the series in which I could actually understand and empathize with her, because in this episode she voiced everything that the audience has been thinking AND. IT. WAS. SO. VINDICATING.
First of all, shout out to my girl, Gina Martin. You were the realest, and you deserved better. RIP. I don’t think it is actually possible that I could ever dislike any line that acknowledges her.
Second of all, Marie SLAYED the delivery of this line. Her voice actually breaks when she references Echo almost killing her in 4x04. I was trying to place what it was about Octavia in this scene that I liked and I realized: she may be swinging a sword, but that is not Blodreina talking. Underneath that armour is Octavia. And, judging by the way she clutches her stomach, she can still feel the wounds inflicted on that day on the cliff. Now, however, it isn’t Echo who is holding the sword: it’s Bellamy. This isn’t Blodreina holding up a facade to maintain her power; this is Octavia expressing real pain. And I may not agree with how she treats her brother, but this is perhaps the one case in which her argument is completely, and totally valid. 
I don’t know if Marie clutching her stomach like that, right where the scar would be, was an acting choice or a directing choice but I really liked that small detail.
“Why are we even doing this? So your sister can go to war? What happened to us being the good guys?” Thank you, my precious Monty, for being the light this world needs. Now go ditch Wonkru and join up with my wife Charmaine. 
Listen, I cannot describe how initially soothed I was when I heard Niylah’s accent. Finally, someone seeking out my girl Clarke! It felt like old times (and this is coming from someone who never used to give two shits about Niylarke, if I’m honest). *sigh* 
“I’m sorry. It’s just, everything’s so different.” God, my heart BROKE for Clarke so many times during this episode. I feel so much for her and it’s just SO easy to connect with her this season. She’s definitely my favourite character after the time jump, thus far, and I’m loving every second that we get of her. 
I already said that I never really cared much for Niylarke but giving her that black panther was CUTE. Sue Me.
“You saved our lives, again. Thank you by the way.” “That wasn’t me; that was Bellamy.” First of all, my girl is getting the acknowledgement she deserves. Second of all, I will take my crumbs - thank you very much.
I’m not going to lie: The 100 can disappoint in many ways, but the soundtrack never does. Tree Adam’s score was slaying the game in this episode, especially in the scene with Niylah and Clarke. That track was beautiful. It had the perfect amount of softness and nostalgia and melancholy and I loved it.
“How do you explain the sun to someone who’s never seen it?” This line was so eery and creepy HOLY shit. But I loved it, even as much as it broke my heart to realize that the one person who sought Clarke out in this episode was only using her for information. 
“I can still tell when you’re lying.” dark!Niylah - I never knew I would be so intrigued.
“Gaia, what are you doing?” “Protecting the last true natblida, as my order has always done.” BA DUM TISS
That plot twist ... I have to admit that I honestly did NOT see that coming. I was sure that Gaia was shoved straight up Octavia’s asshole. I cannot express how much gratification it brings me to know that Gaia was playing her the entire time. As Murphy would say, “that’s a survivor’s move.”
“I’m not the one you should be afraid of.” Seriously, the story potential this twist opens up for Clarke, Gaia, Octavia, and Madi is just OFF the charts. I cannot wait to see where this goes.
The entire interaction between Gaia, Niylah, and Clarke was simply fascinating. Three woman who I didn’t know I needed to interact this much.
“I don’t enjoy seeing you suffer, John.” “Then why’d you leave me.” I’ve never been a diehard Memori stan (just casually enjoyed it) but goddamn this episode was prime angst material for them. I have such a weakness for angst, my friends.
“You didn’t need me anymore. You were always off doing your own thing with Raven.” “SO WHAT?” YOU TELL HIM EMORI
“When we were on the ring, I was part of something bigger than myself. I didn’t know I needed that, but I did. And you punished me for it.” This is my favourite version of Emori, guys. Remember when we all thought that Emori died off-screen before S5 aired because there was no BTS of Luisa? I’m so glad we were wrong. Her story this season has been absolute fire. A prime example of natural character development following a time jump ... *ahem*
“A spy and a murderer ... with a conscience. You’re right Bellamy, she has changed.” I SCREAMED at Marie’s delivery of this line. It was just ... so on point you guys.
That shift transition from ***** *** (I can’t type it out - this is supposed to be a HIGHLIGHT post) to Clarke packing ... with the same music playing. aasqkqisnsksks I ain’t gonna say a word
“Six years is a long time. Octavia is not the girl from the stories I told you.” Madi’s hero worship is mildly cute but indulging it can’t possibly lead to anything good. I really appreciated this line. And I don’t blame Clarke one bit for feeling like she needs to leave.
“If anything happens to me ...” Give me a moment to recover. I’m Triggered.
But seriously that Madi x Clarke scene was just so beautiful and emotional and heartbreaking. Eliza is slaying the game. and why does lola’s face remind me so much of bellamy in THAT scene y’all know the one. the resemblance is real i said what i said
Clarke looking over to ***** ******* like a wounded puppy ... for the second episode in a row. I AIN’T GONNA SAY A WORD
“W h a t?” THE PAIN IN HIS VOICE i’ll take my crumbs
“No, YOU don’t understand.” GO OFF CLARKE !!! Also, WHO’S READY FOR HAKELDAMA 2.0 
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BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW HE STILL HELPS HER FIND MADI WITHOUT EITHER OF THEM NEEDING TO SAY A WORD EVEN THOUGH THEY WERE IN THE MIDST OF A FIGHT BECAUSE EVEN WHEN THEY ARE ANGRY THEY ARE STILL EACH OTHER’S PERSON AND GOD HELP ME SIX YEARS CANNOT CHANGE THAT AND I DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE 
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^^^ THIS SCREENCAP RIGHT HERE OFFICER
“On me.” *sigh* it almost feels like old times
Bellarke kicking down a door = hawt
I stan one (1) power couple
Is anyone gonna talk about the Kara Cooper/Echo parallels? Cause, like, they’re Real fam
I cannot express how much I loved that they showed Madi reacting to having her hand slit open realistically. Like that girl is trying so hard not to show pain but she FEELS it, and she was whimpering. Like, damn, I felt that. Lola did such a good job showing how a child would realistically react to that happening. 
Not to be That Person. But. Bellamy’s hair game marginally improved in his scenes with Clarke. I only know Truth.
THE SLOW-MO OF CLARKE RUNNING TOWARDS MADI AS OCTAVIA’S VOICE ECHOES IN TRIGADESLENG. Y’ALL ARE COMING FOR MY LIFE THAT WAS SO CREEPY AND COOL
“I understand why you lied Clarke. You were just trying to protect her. But Madi no longer needs your protection - she has mine.” I LOVE antagonist Octavia. Seriously. I’m so happy they decided to go the villain origin story route for her, it just makes her so much more interesting. AND SHE’S SO DAMN CREEPY
“I executed traitors. And I made it look like a real defection.” Okay, okay, okay, so was shooting the defectors cold-blooded as shit? Yes. But was it smart? YES. I think Octavia is a bad person but damn girl. Dammmmmmmnnnnnnnnnnn.
Don’t come for my life but I HONEST TO GOD ENJOYED OCTAVIA IN THIS EPISODE. And not because I like her as a person but because she made sense to me with pretty much every move she made. And I’m not used to that feeling with her.
Echo hiding the piece in Karina’s wound. F u c k i n g hell mate. AND WHAT WAS THAT LOOK AT THE END. I dunno but I’m intrigued. 
Sooooooo in case y’all were wondering. I do think 5x06 holds up better on rewatch (as most episodes do). Not all of the episode was bad, as my initial highlight crackpost made it out to be - there were still some good moments. I thought the last ten minutes of the episode were particularly strong, and to be honest all the stuff with Clarke and Memori was A+++. So, definitely not bad all around. And it has a good set-up for the episodes to follow which I am genuinely looking forward to.
Hope you enjoyed this newly revised highlight post! I’ll see ya in a week for 5x07. 
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theeighthtitan · 7 years
Text
Shot through the heart
TW: Angst, violence, blood, hints at death, gore-ish, hurt/comfort
Baby’s first fic, so take it with a grain of salt I suppose. I just had it in my brain and then got real stuck on working on it and now here we are.
This was inspired by the weird game mechanic where your character has arrows sticking out of them and my deep desire to make sure no one died in Redcliffe. Essentially, Roslyn Cousland, Alistair, Wynne, and Sten go to Redcliffe to get to the Arl but have to deal with the undead instead. During the final fight near the Chantry, Roslyn gets shot (tho not in the knee, she can still adventure), Alistair worries, but everything works out in the end.
Also the title is because I am ridiculous. No actual heart shooting.
The sounds of battle fill the air. Shouting orders, clanging swords, blades rending flesh, and the cries that follow. Black smoke billows from the hills above. Its thick ash settles in the air, making Alistair's lungs burn and his vision blur. His muscles scream in protest from the strain of the fight. It has gone on for what feels like hours now.
But everyone is alive.
Well that’s certainly something, he thinks as he smashes his shield into a corpse and it's closest friend, sending them sprawling. One more rushes to fill their place and the arc of his sword cuts through its torso. His reward is the sound and smell of putrid guts spilling on the ground in front of him. “Eugh. Rude. Can't they learn to take turns? Form a queue perhaps?”
“Unlikely!” Roslyn calls from across the battlefield. “Undead aren’t known for their patience!” She crosses her blades at the base of the skull of the corpse trying to dismember Tomas and cleaves its head from its shoulders. It rolls away and she cackles at the sight of it.
She’s shaking the rotting blood from her daggers, steeling herself for the next wave, when Tomas sees them.
“Warden! Look out!” He screams, too late.
She turns just in time for the arrow to sink into her stomach.
And her thigh.
And her shoulder.
Before the last corpse falls, he drops his weapons and races towards her, catching the latches on his gauntlets and throwing them aside. When he slides to a stop and crouches beside her the dirt makes a sickly wet squish beneath his greaves.
The scene twists his stomach. Her skin is grey with ash. Blood, both dried and new trails down her nose and mouth. Tears have left clean streaks down her face. Her eyes are shut and she lies motionless.
He reaches out with trembling hands, careful not to disturb her wounds, and cups the sides of her face. She feels cold. “Roslyn. It's time to wake up now. The fighting is over.”
“Alistair.” She sputters awake, eyes tracking to him. “Hi.”
“Oh thank the Maker,” he says, touching his forehead to hers. He manages a shaky laugh at her indifference towards the situation. She is breathing. Shallow, hitching breaths, but he will take what he can get. And she is conscious. A little strange, perhaps, but what else is new?
“Mmm… d’they live?” she coughs, fresh blood dribbling down the corner of her mouth.
He lets out a bitter laugh. Stubborn woman. Selfless and wonderful and dedicated beyond measure. She will be the death of me. “Yes, they did. Everyone is alive. We won.”
She hums a pleased sound. “Mmm goo—aahh—” Suddenly Sten’s hands are around the arrow in her stomach and her blood is seeping through his fingers.
“Hey, hey, hey! You're hurting her!”
“We must stop the bleeding. Now.” Sten says.
"Le’s get… on with it” she says, breaths growing more labored by the second. She looks pitiful and brave all at once. Her thick braids are free from their pins and a copper halo of baby hairs have come loose. He smoothes them down as best he can. But her jaw is set, determination plain on her face.
Sten grips the front of the arrow to break off the head. “This will be painful, kadan.” She nods, steadying herself on the lip of Alistair's armor. One of his hands clasps the back of her neck, thumb rubbing circles on her skin.
“Say… things,” she pleads.
“Did I tell you about what Moose brought me the other day?” The dog has all but adopted him. She shakes her head. “A soggy cake. With drool and everything.” She chuckles at the thought of it. “Now who in the name of the Maker made him think that people wanted soggy, dog droo—”
The snap of the arrow and the sob that rips through her come almost simultaneously.  
Surging forward, he presses his forehead to hers and wipes away the litany of new tears as they fall. “I know, I know.”
“Alistair...'f I don’... wake up…” she says, body growing slack.
“Don't talk like that, you'll wake up, you'll—” Cold fingers on his lips quiet him.
“I love you.”
Her eyes are kind for a moment before Sten pulls out the arrow and she slumps forward into Alistair’s arms.
His body moves to lay her on the cot for Wynne’s healing magic to repair the wound the arrow leaves behind. But his thoughts slow, a jumble of words and feelings without form or name until in one glaring moment the storm coalesces into... I didn’t say it back.
Alistair stands next to the barricades where the dirt is black with her blood. The moon shines overhead, bright and clear, a spotlight he doesn’t want. His eyes bore into the ground, willing the place where her life almost left her to disappear. But it won’t comply.
I didn’t tell her.
Heaving out a sigh, he runs his hands roughly through his hair. “Rude,” he says under his breath.
He hears the Chantry door open and Wynne appears next to him, eyes following his to the mud. “She… well she's lost a lot of blood as you are aware,” she says, resting her hand on his shoulder. “But she's a strong girl.”
He understands the connotation. She's a strong girl but we'll have to wait and see. The uncertainty of it makes the corners of his eyes burn.
What if I never get the chance?
He looks up at the moon to still the tears that threaten to fall.
“I have to help the other wounded now. Go to her,” Wynne says. He cannot find the voice to answer. Instead, he nods. Wynne hesitates at the door. “And Alistair? For what it is worth, I think she knows.”
He finds her asleep, with Sten at the foot of her cot conditioning her gloves and warding away curious onlookers with a fearsome glare.
The room feels surreal.
In spite of their attempts to mop it up, blood still sticks to the crevices of the old stone floors and its rusty tang is bitter in the back of his throat. The scent of elfroot and the oils Sten is using to clean her leather armor hang heavy in the air.
She looks the same and like another woman all together, if that is possible. She wears a fresh tunic like a plea, a prayer to the Maker that he might make her whole again. But her skin is crusted thick with blood and dirt, the specter of a battle she might still lose. “She's a mess...” Alistair says.
Maker, I hope she knows.
He goes to her then, hands around hers. “I'll never forgive you, you know that? If you die and leave this all on me.” He brings her hand to his cheek and wills her to wake up. “I'm not nearly as pretty, or smart, or strong and no one will listen to me and this blight will never end.”
“Here,” Sten interrupts him with two buckets of hot water, a rag, and some soap.
“I… thank you,” Alistair says. Sten only grunts in response, returning to the foot of her cot to finish her gloves and start work on her boots.
As he moves the rag across her skin, the blood and ash and dirt give way to the girl he knows, the one before the battle. The one who raises a single eyebrow at any foe who thinks to best her. The one who has a lopsided grin when he tells a particularly bad joke. And the one who would die protecting a village of strangers in a land she didn’t know for a payoff she wasn’t even sure she would see.
I just want the chance to tell her.
The morning sun shines through stained glass windows, filtering in purple and orange. Alistair is sleeping sitting up beside her, resting his head in his arms, soft snores rising and falling rhythmically. The light falls on her face, warm and familiar. When it reaches her eyes, she stirs. “Mmm...Alistair?” She says, voice thick from sleep.
“You're awake!” He says, waking with a start, hands around hers instantly.
“Mmm,” she hums, smile forming at the sight of his soft brown hair pointing in all directions. “You too.”
“I…” I have to tell her. “Well. I had a bad dream. Thought it was time to wake up.” The words won't form on his tongue, only more jokes.
“I mean, you flirted with my uncle for Andraste’s sake.” He says, voice trying for carefree, but instead darkened with the guilt that has lodged itself between his ribs. “He is really old. Probably thirty or forty.”
The crinkle at the edge of her eyes when she looks at him says she knows, and somehow that hurts the most. But still she cocks a single eyebrow at him. A challenge. “In my defense, he’s quite attractive. He’s got an amazing jawline and a very pert—”
“A what? It wasn’t a nightmare then?”
The corner of her mouth quirks up in response. “Afraid not.”
“Should I let him know you're interested? I can go find him,” He goes to stand, but she doesn’t let go of his hand and he lets it pull him back down into his seat.
“Ah, well, there's no need. I've another suitor.” A rosy blush settles underneath her freckled cheeks. “You would like him. He’s got a kind heart. Always ready with a joke. Plus, he’s got great hair,” she says, reaching out to finger comb his back into place.
“Oh,” he says, picking at the edge of his fraying tunic. Just do it, you oaf.
He brings his hand up to her face in stumbling movements. When his hand begins to brush against the soft skin of her cheeks and she leans into his touch it emboldens him. “I bet he loves you very much.” 
“Mmm, I think so too,” she says, biting her lip to stifle a wide grin, but the glee in her eyes remains. “I will say though, he's kind of a royal bastard.”
ba dum tissssss
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Rewatching “Transformers”
Yep, the Michael Bay one.  Because I felt like it and it’s the only Transformer movie I enjoy as a guilty pleasure.  Dab.
I like how they put the transformer noise over the shooting stars for the Paramount logo.
BEFORE TIME BEGAN, THERE WAS THE CUBE.
I will give this movie a little bit of credit:  the music over Optimus’ explanation of the AllSpark is not bad.
Actually the music in this entire movie isn’t that bad.
Man, Peter Cullen isn’t getting paid enough in these movies.
Yeah, Tyrese (Gibson), earn that paycheck!
Oh my God, the color filter in this movie.
Traits of a Michael Bay movie:  America, America, helicopters, fighter jets, blue, orange, green, yellow, aqua, the army, sparks, street lamps, America, esplosions, some shady shit in the government, lens flares, product placement, really really quick pan shots, a shady government agent covering up some secret government conspiracy, technicolor smoke, slow-mo shots of something being thrown up in the air behind someone, slow-mo shots of something AMERICA, and a whole bunch of metal
Waaiiiitttt... how come the wife of the Josh Duhamel character looks like Mary Winchester from “Supernatural?”
Compared to the other movies in this series that I’ve seen (Revenge of the Fallen and Age of Extinction), this one actually feels a little more... slow... like they take more time to explain things instead of just throwing explosion porn at you.  I mean, they still do in this movie and I consider this one to be the un-laziest in this series.
Man, I remember when this movie first came out
WAAiiitttt.... why do I recognize the history teacher?  Isn’t he Dr. Taub on House?
“The ice is freezing faster than it’s melting!”  What?
NO SACRIFICE, NOOO VICTORYYY!!
This history is full of the most immature teenagers I’ve ever seen.
ELEVENTH GRADE?!?  THESE ARE THE OLDEST ELEVENTH GRADERS I’VE EVER SEEN
“What would Jesus do?”  I can still quote like 50% of this movie.  That’s sad.
How do they not notice the 1977 Camaro driving into the lot by itself?
RIP Bernie Mac
So much yellow in this scene alone.
Why does a used car lot have a petting zoo?
Another question I have is why Bumblebee decided to have the Autobot symbol on the horn.  Usually Autobots have their Autobot symbols on their chestplate so if you think about that, that’s just weird.
Jon Voight!
RACHAEL TAYLOR!  TRISH WALKER!  I forgot she was in this movie!
Trish, get back to your radio show!
Sam, why is your username LadiesMan217?  If you’re trying to sell stuff on eBay, which probably no one uses anymore (so that dates this movie by a long shot), have a username that doesn’t scream “Hey, I’m a egotistical dick.”
God, I hate the parents in this movie.
My dad used to have a lot of audio files from this movie and one of them was “Wow.  You are so cheap.”
“Why don’t you use those magic voodoo powers and get us the hell out of here?”  Man, I forgot about that line.
I forgot how cringy awkward Sam is in this.  Jesus Christ.
Why is Megan Fox wearing a scarf when it’s shown to be like ninety degrees out?
“OK.  You’ll call me.”  We quote that all the time in my house it’s not even funny.
The little bee air freshener says “Bee-otch”
Megan Fox uses her teeth a lot when she talks.
Oh my God Sam stop talking.
Wow, Michael Bay absolutely could not keep it in his pants when it came to Megan Fox in this movie. 
There’s only three female characters in this movie and Michael Bay gets freaky deaky filming-wise over Megan Fox
“You think I’m shallow?”  Yes.  You’re not sneaking that past me, movie.
*dramatic drum*  THE PENTAGON!
OK, I agree with the Air Force One attendant, Ding Dongs are disgusting.
Couldn’t you use one pan-up to Frenzy after the Ding Dong stops rolling instead of having three cuts to even show it?
AN:  I’m only 30 mins in and this movie is almost 2 and a half hours long
Oh my gosh, the filter again.  They made Trish’s eyes REALLY BLUEEE
*imitates Frenzy as he slams his head on the screen in frustration*
Why is Sam’s profile picture look like his mugshot?
If the dad is the head of the neighborhood watch, his tired ass should be fired by the town council.
Wow, another thing that dates this movie:  a flip phone.
Obligatory mean dogs chained to a wall of some sort.
But seriously though, who leaves their dogs in an empty land fill during the night?
How does Sam not notice that no one is driving his car? 
Wait, at first, they (the Department of Defense) didn’t know what the hacking was caused by and now they think it’s a SpiderBot virus?
Isn’t “living organism” an oxymoron?
That’s a great question to ask a cop:  “Are you on drugs?”
Why is the little Arab boy that travels with the Josh Duhamel character one of the best actors in this movie?
I don’t mean to be racist, but the bit where the Josh Duhamel character calls the India outsource center always cracks me up.  I don’t know why it does.
Oh, the Josh Duhamel character’s name is Lennox.  OK.
“Spooky 3-2, use 1-0-5 shells.  Bring the rain.”  The best line in this movie.  Hands down.
Me and my sister pretty much quote this entire scene where Maggie goes to consult Glenn about the signal, including the “SHUT UP GRANDMAAAA!” and “GET OFF MY GRANDMAMA’S CARPET!”
“We’re not told where they’re going.”  Of course because the Hover-round takes them where they wanna go.
That’s the same hologram dude who was the helicopter Decepticon in the beginning and now he’s in the police car.
Dude, the random rock music?  What?
Barricade just said “AIYAIYAIAYAIYAIIII!” as a battle cry.  I can’t take that seriously.
Obligatory trailer music at a heroic moment.
“What?!?”  BA DA DAAA!!
“This is a hundred more times cooler than Armaggedon!  I swear to God!”  Don’t think you can get by with that self-deprication, Michael Bay.  We know.
“‘Cuse me, are you the tooth fairy?”  I’m sorry, but that bit’s really cute in my opinion.
Man, by the time the other Autobots transform, Optimus just finishes transforming.  And he took like a full minute to transform compared to the ten second panning shot of the others transforming.
I know it probably isn’t him, but it sounds like Steve Blum performing as Ironhide.
“His vocal processor was damaged” Ratchet says as he points a freaking laser at Bumblebee’s “throat”
NO NOT THE DOG!
Dude, it isn’t about measuring whether or not you’re guilty.  I’d eat a whole plate of donuts.
“DON’T TALK TO ME!  DON’T TALK TO ME, CRIMINAL!”
Yep, sure, this asteroid sized projectile falling out of the sky is an airplane.  And this guy is the head of the neighborhood watch?
“BAD MOJO...”
Sam:  Be subtle
Autobots:  OK (proceeds to trash yard and park themselves in the middle of it)
Optimus rubbing his faceplate in frustration is totally me
*DRAGS FACE ACROSS DESK IN FRUSTRATION AT THE BAD AND POORLY TIMED SEX JOKE* 
“The parents are very irritating.  Shall I dispose of them?”  YES.
Hello John Turturro.
Wait, this whole movie takes place within a week?
BUMBLEBEE, STOP LUBRICATING THE MAN!
GET THIS THING TO STOP, HUH?
*Sam and Mikaela fall off of Optimus*  Sorry, but you two would have shattered your ribcages after that.
“I bought a car.  Turned out to be an alien robot.  Who knew?”  They should have made a TV spot centered around that quote.
“NBE?”  “Non-Biological Extraterrestrial.  Keep up with the acronyms here.”  And that is how I remembered what an acronym is.
To be honest, I don’t like Charlie Adler Starscream that much.  Get me Steve Blum or Tom Kenny then I’ll be good.
What kind of Nokia phone is that?
I actually like the effect of the AllSpark collapsing in on itself to make a smaller version of itself
Man, I’m not even a fan of Hugo Weaving as Megatron.
I like that shot of Megatron before he goes “You fail me yet again, Starscream” where he just clicks his fingers together.
*The team still at Hoover Dam barricade the door*  They got a cave troll!
The truck Decepticon takes down Optimus via flying tackle hug
BUDDY!!!!!
Now see, why does Optimus have a sword?
No, not the Orpheum!
Now why is Jazz sitting there still in car mode just watching Bumblebee get his legs cut off?
YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME?!?  YOU WANT A PIECE?!?
NO!  I WANT TWO PIECES!
“Megatron.”  “PRIIMMEEE!!!”
They keep reusing sound effects from the beginning in this battle
Oh no, not... Mountain Dew cans... *shrugs*
Did Megatron just yell “SURPRISE!” when he burst into that abandoned building?
He must be great at birthday parties
*Barricade gets shot in the Spark and dies*  Oooh, right in the arc reactor!
AN:  God, there’s only twenty minutes left.  I can do this.
Starscream does virtually nothing in these series.
“Oh, so unwise.”  MR. ANDERSON...
That one human Megatron flicked away is totally dead.
IT’S JUST YOU AND ME, MEGATRON.
NO, IT’S JUST ME, PRIME!!
“Armor’s just weak under the chest.”  So let’s aim the aiming laser at the Decepticon’s hand.  That sounds good.
That bit of Lennox driving the motorcycle and sliding under the Decepticon to kill it is actually pretty awesome
*Megatron dies with choking noises*  And so, Stanley Yelnats killed Elrond with the AllSpark
Now how are Optimus and Megatron brothers?  Unless there’s some cut backstory where they were like best friends until Megatron was like “You know what?  Being a Decepticon sounds cool.  Imma go do that.”  and Optimus was like “YOU WERE THE CHOSEN ONE!”
I’ve heard rumors that there’s like 40 minutes of backstory that they cut from “The Last Knight”
Linkin Park!
*proceeds to sing all of “What I’ve Done”*
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jaewil25-blog · 7 years
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Jayla Auset please read this in its entirety.
My government entity is Jamar Rasheid Richmond. Some people call me Búba (pronounced Boo ba) or Jae Stylez because I represent fathers from many nations who have been falsely accused of being neglectful towards their offsprings.
Who Am I?
I am humble. I am altruistic. I am extraordinary. I am being of light who has transmuted that energy into a positive amalgamation of balance between failures & successes.
I was born & raised in the Southwest Bronx, 250 Anthony Avenue, and I grew up kinda introverted unlike the rest of my crew. When I was nine years young, I developed a scientific mindset called critical thinking which saved my life MANY TIMES. This is when you start analyzing everything around you, from family to friends, to conclude daily misconceptions about who you THINK you are and what life should really be like.
Jayla, do you ever feel like there’s more to life than what you see?
Do you ever wonder why school is soooo boring at times?
Do you sometimes feel like moving away somewhere far enough to experience what life is like somewhere else?
Well…I used to question this in school all the time; having me dazed and confused constantly offline.
My Early Scholastic Persona
I was never a book-smart student because truthfully, I didn’t care about the books I was reading. I could read words in a sentence now; I wasn’t illiterate. If you’d ask me what I just read I would just literally draw blanks. I was incomprehensible most of the time in class, but never incompetent. I was an C+ student growing up who couldn’t stand class participation. Why??? Because I never wanted to participate in a lesson if it wasn’t going to enhance my current condition. My classmates used to joke on me because I had a speech impediment causing me to misinterpret certain word structures. Most of our books were written in a format I wasn’t used to. Which made me dislike reading out loud in class. English made a lot of sense to me growing up. Why??? Because of its low vibrational frequency when spoken. Nevertheless, I couldn’t stand speaking English, yet alone, articulate it as my primary language.
I just want you to know that I’m here for you and nothing or no one will ever change that.
Bronx-Hood
My crew & I would travel all over the Bronx to interact with our environment like nobody else’s business and didn’t care who or what we came across in the process. (You would definitely like them all). We used to chill on the block engaged in everything from Manhunt, Off Tha Wall, Dodgeball - using a blue hand ballI, basketball - using anything with a hole in it as a hoop, football - using the street as our field dodging cars & tackles, bike riding like 11 deep up the Grand Concourse to Van Cortland Park, and many other activities I can’t remember at the moment. I tried showing your mother how much love & respect we had for her, nevertheless, she decided to not participate. I remember introducing her to some key components on the block to significantly increase her curiosity about hood life NOT that shit portrayed on tel-lie-vision. I’m talking men who protected women and finessed their celestial presence with greater appreciation for family.
Imagine, eleven guys - with their own personality - acting like big brothers & uncles making sure you were protected from parasitic rodents who would try & infiltrate you & your mother. My crew are creative geniuses who knows the importance of being 2G’s - Gangstas & Gentlemen. My crew have passions of auto mechanics, education, masonry, technical math, applied science & engineering, an eclectic mix of music, theater & art, entrepreneurship, creative masterminds, internal security, natural law, and my personal favorite…advanced technology. We are indeed well rounded. We never act like “tough guys”. We are warriors. We get along with everyone, just some people ironically hate us.
What Makes Me A Solitary Sol-Doer
I mastered the art of fighting WITHOUT REALLY FIGHTING. You maybe asking, ‘how is that possible’? Well, I’ll share some life secrets with you when the time is right. BUT, you must promise not to share anything I reveal to you with anyone; not even your closest love one. Only share it with your mother. What I can say is – some battles are fought in the third dimension, which is the physical realm that you’re able to conquer with your five senses (feel, taste, smell, hear, see). On the other side, there are metaphysical conflicts going on internally that includes knowing thyself first, mastering your level of abilities second, and tapping into unknown forces only activated by your Crown Chakra afterwards. Like I said, I will share more with you and how to tap into this naturally without trying when times presents themselves.
I Never Abandoned You
Jayla, your mother (Kenya) unfortunately never tried to get to know me in-depth when we were around your age. I, Jamar, am extremely sorry for many things I’ve NOT done in your life, but I hope you’re aware that I was VERY involved during your early development stage until I was forced to leave you in 2003 (that’s a long story Jayla). I used to spend the night at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital in Manhattan when you were 2-3 months young just to learn about your congenital heart dis-ease. Ask your mother. I sacrificed my livelihood for you to live a comfortable life on taxpayers expense due to your implanted pacemaker. I always knew how important it was for that pacemaker to be removed because of its electromagnetic frequency waves that can be interrupted by RF devices. After work, I would rush downtown so I could speak face2face to nurses & cardiologists about your severe condition. I used to even talk to you while you were sleep making sure the sound of my voice resonated deep within your subconscious mind while you were courageously recuperating from your traumatic open heart surgery.
When you were just 13 months, your mother made a life changing decision regarding you & I finally getting to know one another. (Jayla, plz read very carefully)
Jayla, you’re my firstborn. You are my ONLY. When you were released by a plethora of doctors at NYU Medical, your mother & I had an epic disagreement. This was a very unhealthy situation for you. So, when you were 13 months, I gave in and allowed your grandma to take full responsibility in my absence because she had a scholastic background, Afrakan centered living conditions, and most importantly, a holistic approach on maintaining optimal health. Jayla I REALLY, SINCERELY APOLOGIZE FOR LEAVING YOU, but I had no other choice. What your mother was going through with her health I just didn’t want to make matters even worst for her. I NEVER - and I’ll repeat - I NEVER put my hands on your mother or anyone else for that matter. I didn’t fight with my body; I fought with my mind…
Your Grandmother Stole The Show
Jayla, I’ve always adored you. I even have your name tattooed on my arm (I got that tat in 2004 when you were 3). You’ve always been my world Jayla Auset. No matter who you currently view as your father or father figure. No one - and I repeat - NO ONE (besides ya moms) has sacrificed more than I have so you can have prestigious support from your environment. Your mother and I are both on your Certificate Of Live Birth which forever binds our lives together. Your grandmother Robyn benefited from a lot from it as well. She capitalized on the Order Of Protection more than your mother did. I was NO THREAT to your safety and well being. But…your grandmother thought if was removed from your life by authoritative force, then her position would be reinforced as primary care giver OR sole provider. Don’t get me wrong Jayla. Robyn sacrificed to take care of you as well, but her sacrifice is NOTHING compared to what your real parents endured during the process. She became legal guardian due to your mother’s medical condition. Your mother should’ve called me but she blamed it on an Order Of Protection that was filed in 2003 for the reason of not reaching out - which was a poor excuse. The real reason your mother didn’t want me to step in is because I would’ve caused to so much confusion, distractions, and down right dysfunctional behavior in your family. That’s the real reason they kept me a secret. So, your grandmother stepped in to care for you like her own giving her a second chance at raising her daughter in an image she wanted all along. Robyn thought her sacred knowledge was the reason for your eminent support. It was your mother’s (Kenya) tenacious attack on the battlefield of Lupus and my extraordinary prowess in the 3rd dimension that kept you safe from malicious intent. I work my mind everyday to provide quality service to the people making sure I don’t promote any cataclysmic behavior or activities. I’ve been secretively supporting you & your mother’s endeavors since you were ripped from her mortal portal.
(I’m deep and abstruse at times…I know.)
What I’ve Always Thought Of You
Jayla…
You’re phenomenally extraordinary!
You’ve always been.
From the little bit I’ve seen & noticed, we have some similarities regarding your personality. You can be a bit silly and intelligently witty like your mother. You also have quiet side - an introverted persona - instilled by your grandma who has taught you well gaining you access to unlimited data in your universe. In other words, you are ENRICHED with wealth generating principles! When we finally meet, I will train you on esoteric wisdom from underground circuits you should’ve learned way before anything else. The foundation of our ancestors will be communicating through our unison. The plan is simplistic but it also requires your mother’s undivided attention.
You Are Everything & Everything Is You
Remember, always influence your own outcomes…don’t allow the mind state of others to influence you. For example, if your colleagues or constituents force a ritual upon you because they are not aware of your delicate condition, you don’t have to fit in…EVER. Trust this…as you get wiser, people will become tactful. Meaning, they will persuade you to consent to something that has destructive tendencies in it. You don’t have to appeal to ANY relationship between you & your peers because of ritualistic behaviors like companionships, friendships, hardships, etc. I’ll teach you how to attract more responsive connections in your life. I’ll teach you how to remain positive in a world full of buyers, sellers, pimps, and hoes (figuratively speaking). Jayla, I’ll teach you lessons about life you could only imagine. Lessons that are not taught in school or any educational institution. Imperative lessons like how to create YOUR dreams into YOUR reality without the Internet. How to struggle smart and live long enough to embody your life’s mission. How to learn about yourself enough to never fear anything again. I’ll start off real slow and incrementally work my way into your respective governments. I grind. I diligently hustle. So, working through the abyss is child’s play for me. Your mother is welcome to tag along; I know she won’t let you out of her sights yet anyway.
YOU ARE THE CENTER OF YOUR UNIVERSE. Your mother & I have blazed a path for you to educate yourself on arcane knowledge, inspire your true inner circle (loyal families & synergistic connections) with intrinsic values, and motivate others to change society’s obsolete ordinances and convert them into your divine essence…Universal Power!
We Are The Afro-Related Trinity
I’m going to share something with you Jayla that I hope you have practiced as well…celibacy. Truth be told, I was a virgin when I met your mother. Your mother never believed me when I confessed this to her earlier. I hope you have very little knowledge on this subject - and if you don’t - I hope you’ve been schooled properly on both girls & boy’s pubertal development.
When I met your mother, back in Y2K, we were raised completely different. Your mother was raised by a strong-minded family of scholars & careerists whom followed everything by the book. I, your biological father, was raised by an eclectic family of hustlers & “go-getters” who did things “by any means necessary”. Your mother was brought up with both of her parents. I was brought up with only my mom & grandma. Your mother was book smart and into poetry. I was into extracurricular activities and technology. Your mother tried her best to fit in high school. I tried my best to stand out. The point is Jayla…your mother and I are something, on the esoteric realm, called quantum engineering. Your mother was involved with her own quantum entanglement and transition onto my side which was a more quantum computing power. In other words, she is like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. (ideology of unity) and I’m more like Malcolm X (implementation of unity).
We’re from opposite ends of the same source which is YOU. You are the reason, the beginning, and the only reason to amalgamate negative & positive forces synergistically generating electromagnetic power in abundance. You are the one, of many around the world, who will join forces together and create a better place for future generations of energy beings on this planet.
We must build our Prowess Society so all Earths’s energy beings can empower their environments with self love, global prosperity, and elemental longevity - humanity’s source code under Universal Law.
Wow! See how quickly I can get off topic Jayla???, especially when it’s concerning our planet’s future possibilities. Anyways, Jayla…your mother & I have failed our generation. We involuntarily surrendered our rights to have a lackluster impact on our Omniverse because we didn’t realize what was really important…US AS THE TRINITY - Positive (Kenya Simone 9/19), Negative (Jamar Rasheid 10/2), Neutral (Jayla Auset 10/24).
Nature needs us to showcase supreme consciousness through our inevitable reconciliation.
Time is calling for it.
How will we respond???
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