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mst3kproject · 4 years ago

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The Face of Marble

This movie has a zombie dog. It’s also got John Carradine from The Unearthly and Robert Shayne from Teenage Caveman, and was directed by William Beaudine, who brought us Design for Dreaming. But honestly, who cares about that when there’s a zombie dog?

On a storm-wracked cliff somewhere live mad scientists Dr. Randolph and Dr. Cochrane, who are trying to raise the dead but aren’t very good at it. Their first experimental subject, a drowned sailor, promptly dies all over again when lightning strikes the Frankenstein equipment. This was probably a lucky escape, because subject two, Mrs. Randolph’s dog Brutus, comes back to life as a bulletproof zombie with a thirst for blood and the ability to walk through walls! They get back to work on improving their technique, and when Mrs. Randolph herself later dies in a tragic matchmaking accident, the two scientists figure she may as well be subject three. It kinda works, and kinda doesn’t… but not in the way anyone expected, especially me.

I guess I have to explain ‘tragic matchmaking accident’. Elaine Randolph’s ethnic stereotype maid, Maria, wants out of this place and has decided that the best way to bring it about is to have her mistress and Dr. Cochrane fall in love and run off together, taking her with them. A combination of voodoo and persuasion seems to be on the verge of bringing this about when Dr. Cochrane’s pre-existing fiancée Linda shows up to surprise him on his birthday. Maria therefore sets out to murder Linda by releasing toxic smoke into her bedroom, but doesn’t know that Linda and Elaine have switched rooms because Linda freaked out when the ghostly Brutus wandered through hers in the middle of the night. It was much shorter to just say ‘tragic matchmaking accident’.

That probably gave you a pretty good idea of just what a dumb and contrived movie this is. The print is also pretty terrible, old and scratchy and with poor sound – and yet it’s actually kind of fun to watch. The Face of Marble is a bit slower than it should be despite being only an hour and a quarter long, and the ending unfortunately makes no sense, but the plot twists managed to surprise me a couple of times. Nobody here is a great actor but nobody’s really terrible, either. You can tell who’s who and what’s going on. For something I would watch, it’s a decent film

What I really liked about it, though, was the treatment of the characters. For all I’ve called them mad scientists, Randolph and Cochrane don’t really fall into that ‘type’. They’re not trying to create an indestructible army or Show Those Fools or anything, they want to save lives: Randolph talks about people who’ve drowned or asphyxiated, people for whom rescue came just a few minutes too late. Nor do they display the mad scientist’s typical lack of conscience. Randolph gets so caught up in his work that he euthanizes Brutus the dog, but he’s absolutely sure his process will bring the animal back as good as new. When this doesn’t work, he feels terrible about it and hides it from Elaine, partly so she won’t be angry but partly because he’s deeply ashamed of himself.

The incident also destroys his confidence in the project. When Elaine dies, it’s Cochrane who talks him into trying to resurrect her, since he has been working on the formula and he now believes it will work. Randolph almost refuses, saying he’d rather see Elaine actually dead than become some monster like the dog, and Cochrane has to do quite a bit of convincing. What we see in these two men is a folie à deux – each would be quite reasonable on his own, but when they can play off and encourage each other they end up doing unbelievably awful things. That’s kind of neat, and makes it more believable that they would try the experiment on Elaine even after their previous failures.

The two men’s relationships with the women in their lives also have some complexity. The backstory tells us that Randolph saved Elaine’s life by removing a brain tumor, and subsequently fell in love with and married her. Despite this, he doesn’t seem to spend much time with her, and she appears to be downright intimidated by him. Elaine is shown to prefer confiding in Cochrane rather than confronting Randolph about her fears, despite the fact that Cochrane’s reaction is invariably condescending. On the other hand, Cochrane is very tender with his own fiancée, Linda, and actually listens to her when she tells him she doesn’t like Randolph and thinks they both need to get away from this place!

Elaine and Linda are set up, both by the writers and by Maria the sorceress, as romantic rivals for Cochrane. You’d think this would lead to a lot of petty hostility between them, but the movie avoids that, too. They are fairly cool towards each other at first meeting, but quickly make peace after Linda’s sighting of the zombie dog. By the time they’re about to part they’re still not best friends, but they clearly don’t dislike each other. Linda has figured out that Elaine has a crush on Cochrane but as long as Cochrane isn’t going to act on it she won’t let it worry her. She could have been a villain in this story, as could Randolph and Cochrane themselves, but the writers avoid taking the easy way out.

Instead, the villain of this story is Maria. The situation would never have arisen if she hadn’t attempted to murder Linda, and later we see her use both the police and the zombies trying to get herself out of the mess she’s gotten into. Unfortunately, this is where the movie starts to fall apart.

A few days after the undead Brutus leaves the lab by leaping right through the wall, a detective shows up at the house to ask Dr. Randolph about a series of attacks on local livestock. Randolph identifies the culprit as an animal suffering from ‘hemomania’, or a need to drink blood. When Elaine comes back from the dead, then, we expect her to do so as a vampire. Everything we’ve seen so far seems to be leading up to that idea. When she comes to and appears to be tired, but all right, we assume the condition will set in eventually.

It never does. Instead, Maria is suddenly able to control the undead Elaine and Brutus! Dr. Randolph soon figures out that it was Maria who killed Elaine, and in his anger and grief he considers stabbing her to death until Cochrane talks him out of it. In order to save herself, Maria has Elaine stab Randolph, then go back to bed and forget it happened.

Where did that come from? We have never seen the slightest indication that Maria can do this. Whenever she has been working magic, such as leaving effigies under people’s pillows or preparing potions, we’ve never seen any evidence that she actually has supernatural powers. The love charms were suggestion and the poison was simple chemistry! The film-makers had ample opportunity to set something up here, by having her take control of the zombiefied Brutus through similar actual magic, but they didn’t do that. We just see Maria sitting in front of a fire waving her arms… then Brutus comes into Elaine’s room, Elaine rises in a trance, and Maria just hands her a knife and orders her to stab away, as if she has the woman under hypnosis. Did I miss something?

At the end, the cops get the real story from another servant (I’m tempted to insert a quip about how you can tell it’s fiction because the police listen to a black man, but we’re way beyond that being funny) and show up to arrest Maria, but she’s already committed suicide, and footprints in the sand show that Elaine and Brutus have just wandered off into the ocean. Okay. Does that mean anything? Are they gonna drown or just wander around on the bottom and fight sharks like in Zombie 2? Did Maria make her do it or not? Is Elaine even aware that there’s anything wrong with her? Earlier she didn’t seem to be, and nobody told her what happened… she seems to think she was merely ‘taken ill’.

The feeling I get from all this is that the writers didn’t know what to do with Zombie-Elaine. They were too chicken to have her go around tearing throats out because then she wouldn’t be attractive anymore. They can’t kill her because they’ve already established that the zombies are bulletproof and they can’t think of any other way to do it. So they just have her leave, mysteriously and unsatisfyingly, and completely squander several opportunities they’ve set up for themselves.

Elaine wondering what’s wrong with her, unable to help herself even as she’s horrified by her own actions, would easily have been the scariest thing in the movie. Randolph and Cochrane realizing that what came back isn’t quite Elaine, and having to deal with what they’ve done, would have been the most heart-wrenching. They could even have had the two of them, formerly unbelievers, go to Maria for magical help – only to have Maria refuse to do anything because she, as previously established in dialogue, really does love her mistress. The ending could have been really cool, but they just ran out of ideas.

I did enjoy about the first two thirds of The Face of Marble. By the time Elaine finally dies I was getting a little impatient to see some actual zombies, but the film then went in a totally different direction, in a bad way. The ending doesn’t feel like a plot twist, because a plot twist should be something that makes sense of things we’ve already seen. It’s doubly disappointing, because the attention paid to the characters and their motivations and relationships really made it look like writers knew what they were doing.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #the face of marble #poor john carradine #40s #everybody do the zombie stomp

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blissfulalchemist · 4 years ago

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Don’t know how but this came in as a submission Stella way back when. Either way it is finished after so long!

“is that blood?”, “yes, but that doesn’t matter right now, what does matter is-” “you are literally bleeding.” + red brooks bros

It was always a good thing to get out of the house, especially to a place that felt like some kind of home. The tension at the ranch was starting to become too much and Cat just needed a little air to breathe. She was still attempting to wrap her mind around the idea that Raf didn’t hate her or find her completely out of her mind for her stunt a few weeks ago. The alcohol took the fall for that kiss which was fine with her so long as she didn’t have to be reminded of that moment for the rest of her life. Not that Lance was helping any as the two took a break at his temporary house, Cat lying against the couch letting her mind wander as Terminator 2 played.

“Think I should start making some kind of dinner for us?” Cat asked hand feeling the kernels of the now empty bowl of popcorn.

“Was under the impression we were doing pizza,” Lance said, eyes never leaving the television, “Thought your boyfriend Rafael was bringing some?”

Cat rolled her eyes, Kill me, “Yeah when he was planning on coming over,” she sat up, setting the bowl on the coffee table, “he canceled, remember.”

Lance took a sip from the beer bottle in his hand, a smile playing on his lips, “Not good boyfriend material if he cancels like that.”

“Would you stop with that?”

“Just looking out for you is all,” Lance laughed as a throw pillow came for his face, “That boy may think he’s perfection but-.”

“He’s still human and therefore impossible to be perfect,” Cat finished, tone laced with mockery. “I know that,” she scoffed, “but that stuff would only really matter if he was interested in me. He’s fine with our relationship as is so therefore I am too.”

Lance laughed, spitting up a little of his drink, “And I’m set to win the lotto.” Cat narrowed her eyes, mouth ready to argue when the sound of a bike overtook the sounds of gunfire from the movie. Lance let out a sigh, “I sure hope that kid slowed down to park in the garage this time.”

“Wes? Slowing down?” Cat smiled, “The day he does you better buy a lotto ticket.”

She opened the front door, hearing the clattering of a shelf falling, “How in the hell does he manage to hit the same damn shelf every time?”

Cat looked up at Lance, raising a brow, “Maybe you should move it Old Man.”

“I have,” he let out a breath, “Come on let’s go get him.” The two walked into the garage, watching as Wes pulled off the helmet, shaking out his hair, “I thought you were a pro on that thing?”

“I am,” Wes answered looking at the fallen shelf and its contents, “It jumped out at me.”

“Uh-huh, sure Wes,” Cat laughed, eyes assessing him, widening in horror, “Oh my god!”

The two men looked up at her change in pitch, “What?”

“Wes-. You-. How-. Wes- You’re-.” He lifted an arm looking down his body, meeting her eyes as he pointed to the dark stain on his shirt, “Are you? Is that blood?!”

He gave a shrug, Lance moving to take a closer look, “Probably.”

“Probably. Wes! You are literally bleeding!”

Lance gave a small shake of his head, “Yeah, but that doesn’t matter right now. What does matter is-.”

“Is I took down that big ol’ YES sign,” Wes finished triumphantly.

Cat’s shoulders sagged, “Let me guess you’re homemade explosives?” Wes nodded, Lance pushing him towards the house. “Wes,” she glanced up to the mountain watching as the black smoke rose, heart falling as she placed a smile on her face, “Good job taking that eyesore down.” It's not that she didn’t want to see that Hollywood wannabe gone but it did mean John would be in an even more sour mood. Never a danger to herself, but it didn’t make for very pleasant conversation either given her friendships.

If Wes noticed anything a miss with her, he didn’t get much of a chance to voice it, “What I was going to say was that we need more of an actual dinner,” Lance continued, ushering his two children inside.

“You want to go and get pizza,” Cat asked.

“I’m going to get pizza while you clean him up,” Lance picked up his canvas jacket and car keys gesturing to Wes, “Now before you say anything you can stitch him up just fine. I’ve shown you how and seen you do it.”

“But-.”

“If you mess up I’ll just open them and do it myself,” Lance lowered his voice, eyes watching as Wes took out the first aid kit, laying the towel out on the couch, “‘Sides I think you should talk to him. He’s holding something in and he ain’t going to talk to me about it.”

Cat exhaled through her nose, nodding, shutting the door behind Lance, gathering a bowl of warm water and some rags. “You think it's a good or bad thing that you know exactly what to do when you come over after your injuries?” Cat joked, sitting next to Wes on the couch tossing the dirtied shirt to the side.

“Depends on who you ask really,” Wes paused the movie before he moved, giving Cat a better look at the wound. It wasn’t as deep as the amount of blood would indicate but still was a few inches long moving along his right ribs. Cat set the bowl in his lap, gentle in her movements as she cleaned the blood away, “Might be some shrapnel still.”

“I’ll pick out what I can,” he flinched, letting out a yelp, making Cat jump. Wes laughed, “Don’t do that,” she chastised, lightly hitting his arm, “You know you’re just gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”

“You were being too serious,” Cat picked up the tweezers spotting the small glimmer of metal.

“Cause I’m concentrating,” Cat pulled back grabbing the bottle of alcohol, “This is gonna sting.” Wes sat still as she brought the soaked cloth to the open wound, “I’m still not one hundred percent used to this kind of first aid.”

“Here I thought you were certified.”

“Yeah for the basics,” she snorted, “Other than that it had to be left to the real medical staff.” She gave a small smile, “Only thing I can really claim competency in is healing the mind.” Wes grew silent, turning his head away from her as she gathered the needle and thread, Cat’s smile fading, “You know you don’t have to keep it all in. Suffering alone isn’t a good thing.”

“You let Raf do it,” he countered, lifting his arm to rest on the back of the sofa.

“Don’t think I wouldn’t or won’t get on his case too,” she winced as the needle pierced his skin, pausing to take in Wes. He stayed still through it, calming the shaking wanting to start in her hands, “And if we’re being honest I let you get away with a lot more than him.” He gave a smirk, “So the YES sign,” the smirk evaporating quickly, “You and John still-.”

“Don’t,” he said quickly, “I’m not talking about that.”

So much for Lance’s belief, Cat nodded, “Okay. We don’t have too.” Silence fell as she worked on the stitches, slower than was necessary, but she didn’t want to make a mistake forcing Wes to have to go through the process again. She was nearing the last two needed when Wes shifted, “Careful, I don’t want to hurt you on accident.”

“You ever think about us?”

“Like what we’ll do after this whole thing is over,” she gave pause, pursing her lips, “Or do you mean that night?” Cat glanced up at his face, unreadable, “Because I thought we were never going to talk about it.”

“Guess it does play into it,” he mused, “But no. I mean us as in you and me. Together.”

Oh, Cat concentrated on the last stitch picking her words carefully, “Why does that matter to you all of a sudden? Did it get real bad with John this time?”

“Humor me,” he answered, ignoring her question.

Cat let out a sigh, wiping at the now closed wound, “Guess I’d be lying if I said it never crossed my mind.”

“Had ample opportunity to act on it,” he tilted his head, eyes following as she put everything away.

“I said it crossed my mind,” she gave a smirk, “not that it was anything more serious than that.” Cat got up from the sofa quickly hiding the small blush that was coming to her cheeks, grabbing a new shirt for Wes, tossing it his way, “I don’t think we’d work out in the long run in a romantic way.”

He pulled the shirt on, careful of the stitches on his ribs, “What makes you say that?”

His face took on a hurt expression, hands looking for something to mess with, shoulders slumped over. Her face softened, lightly touching his shoulder as she sat next to him, “I say that because you deserve better than me.” The corners of Cat’s lips turned upward into a quick smile as she watched his mouth start to open in protest, “Let me explain what I mean before you start trying to correct me.”

His golden eyes glanced her way before giving a quick nod, Cat settled herself more going over her thought process. “Don’t get me wrong Wes, we’d be happy, on top of the world, and so in love that people would get cavities just being in proximity,” she grabbed his hand, “But that love isn’t sustainable, not for either of us. When you love someone like that, you have to feel like there’s a balance in all aspects.”

“I feel like you do sometimes,” Wes said softly.

“And there it is, sometimes. Wes it has to be all the time. You and I don't have balance where it’s most important.” Cat paused, “We both are very giving in nature and in turn will take whatever is given back to us because we need to feel some kind of connection. We would have too much of that and we need people that will tell us when to stop.” She turned his face towards hers, “Wes I can’t ever really say no to you and that’s not what you need in a long term partner. Sure from a friend it's okay but not when it comes to life long commitment. Does that make sense?”

Wes gave a shrug, “A little.”

“In essence you need someone that will challenge you, make you see life a little differently so you can grow into it the way you were meant to. I’m more of a support while you figure that out, I can try but I know I won’t be the best at it, not in the way that you need.” Cat looked down to his hand in hers, continuing, “I’m also not someone you deserve because there are some things about you that I could never fully and truly understand. I can empathize with so many things Wes, but there are some life experiences that I can only sympathize with and you need and deserve someone that can.”

“Someone like, John,” Cat nodded, “It doesn’t feel the same with him, not like how you love me.”

“No two loves are going to feel the same, Wes,” she countered, “I love both you, Raf, and Lance the same amount and I’ll tell you now each one feels different. Lance is protective, stable, and parental like my own dad. That feeling of being noticed when you’re lost from your parents at a busy mall, you trust them because they have kind eyes and stay until your parents come back for you. Raf is structure, helpful, and,” All consuming, “consistent. Like testing to see if a video game has fall damage and then the relief when you find out that it doesn’t because you now know the parachute is going to open each time just before you hit the ground. It also feels like light that someone left behind just for you.”

“You though,” Cat looked up into his eyes, “that love feels soft, warm, hopeful, and like peace, our own little treehouse overlooking the field behind a house. It's hard to describe just right but it's something you come back to because there's a sense of safety in it that can only come from that one place. That’s what it feels like for me to love you.” She smiled, “I bet if you really look at all the people that you love and care for you’ll find that each one feels different in some way and that’s okay. That’s kind of how it's supposed to be.”

“How do you know which one’s the right one?” Wes looked at her expectantly as Cat searched for the feelings that had her marrying Theo. Searching for the right word that would convey the unique feeling into something that could resonate with Wes. Some way that would be easy to understand and simplify the complexity.

“You’ll feel….some kind of….whole.”

“Whole,” he repeated.

“Yeah, whole,” she smiled as his face showed signs of disbelief and confusion, “Every person that you love and loves you in return contributes to this puzzle that is you, but there will be spaces open for that one person that will complete the whole thing. That can be yourself, a friend, or a romantic partner. Once they’re there, you won’t really feel like there are any open spaces left, you’ll feel whole.”

“You think people can find it again if they lose it?” Wes asked eyes flicking down for a millisecond to the leather bracelet Cat moved to cover up on instinct at the question.

Her fingers playing with the metal circle, “I want to believe so. That answer though is up to you at that point.”

Wes let out a huff sitting back in the chair, eyes turned upward at the ceiling, “Not really meant to be simple is it,” Cat stayed silent, watching him, “This is why feelings are the worst.”

“Well we have them and we can’t really put them back,” Cat laughed, “Just give it some time Wes. You’ll figure it all out in the end, just have to remember to not run away this time.”

“Nah, couldn’t do that to you Catnip,” he turned smirking, “Pretty sure you’d follow me and drag me back.”

She shook her head, “Not what I meant, Wes. You’re right, but not what I meant.” Wes waved her words off, Cat exhaling slowly, “Well I think that’s enough therapy for the night.” Cat stood moving to the table holding stacks of tapes and dvds, “Music or movie while we wait for dinner?”

“Movie? You pick though.”

“Your suffering Brooks,” Cat mumbled, looking through settling on The Goonies. “Here this one shouldn’t be so bad.”

He glanced at the summary on the back of the case, “A bunch of kids go treasure hunting?”

“Yeah,” she answered, loading the movie, “So many quotable parts about that movie! Trust me you’ll have a good time.” Wes shook his head settling into the couch more as Cat took her place laying her head in his lap. His fingers started to run through her hair as the car chase began in the movie, “Wes, you may forget your worth and what you deserve, but I never will,” she looked up to his face, “So I’ll remind you until it sticks in that big brain of yours.”

#brotp: red brooks bros #brains and disaster #catlina rojas oc #deputy hwes #submission

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punkscowardschampions · 3 years ago

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Liam & Edie

Liam: [a picture of Rio with her eyes crossed out like 1. Miss you and 2. Guess who I just talked to]

Edie: ofc she did 😑

Edie: what’s the damage

Liam: 0 to us I deflected the - to Lexie

Liam: do you want her framed for jumpscaring herself or is there anyone else

Edie: That’s all she cared about?

Edie: Bitch

Liam: it just didn’t take no time to convince her we’re perfect for each other

Liam: bc we are

Edie: yeah we are 🥰

Edie: surprised she copped to anything of the sort though

Edie: clearly can’t resist being nice to you

Edie: Lexie needs to calm down

Edie: 🤔 I mean, be kinda fucking hilarious if everyone reckoned she was doing it to herself

Edie: but maybe I’ve been too mean already 🥺

Edie: what do you think?

Liam: I think it’s pretty close to showing everyone her true colours if we do, Lex has gotta have been talking to your sister about me, I could tell, she thought I was a dick before I talked her round

Edie: She wouldn’t be happy for me unless you were a total 🤓 with no dick

Edie: that’s just what she’s like, crazy

Edie: but also not a stretch to see Lexie being a gossipy cow, I’ve heard her on other people before so

Edie: why would I give a fuck if her life is ruined

Liam: she basically accused me of wanting to hit you up for one reason and then wanting to immediately dip, if she thinks that’s what I’m like that’s only coming from one person

Edie: She’s pathetic

Edie: it’s clearly her saying it because you didn’t sleep with her

Edie: it wouldn’t be hard to spoof some shit, make it look like her

Edie: and she has nothing to say it was me, or you like she thought, and it weren’t no one else so she’s fucked, basically

Liam: [send her some shit that you’ve already started to work on because you knew she’d agree with this plan and the bits of the Rio convo where you said you’d try and find out and made it sound like you thought it was her but obvs it couldn’t possibly be hehe]

Edie: You’re so smart

Edie: She deserves this, she was definitely bitching about you, you can tell from how hard Rih said she weren’t

Liam: don’t be upset with me, but I was thinking about how Lexie also deserves to see us together and you happy and I invited them both to your show

Liam: you did say you want your family to take your music seriously

Edie: I’m not mad

Edie: You invited Rih too so she isn’t going to think you’re trying to get back with her

Edie: and I get to rub that and the fact I’m talented in her face?

Edie: It’s a good idea, baby

Liam: still, if you wanna create me in game and spend your time testing out different murder options, I won’t be mad, I should’ve asked you if it was a good idea before saying yeah to having us all there

Edie: [an 8-bit Liam but obvs we’re making an 8-bit us to smooch him not murder him, a lil gif moment of this or whatever it would be]

Liam: you only want a play through where we 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻

Edie: that might make the thread 🤮 but idk if they’d be 😱

Liam: we’ll keep it off thread

Liam: [send her the floor plan to where your dad lives/holiday cottages so she can build it in sims like my boo would, live your dreams kids]

Edie: don’t need to make 50k nerds jealous, I get you

Edie: [just nerd out with that]

Edie: I’ll show you how generic the 👶 is

Edie: very rude

Liam: if the mods and cc don’t fix it, I’ll pretend I don’t 👀

Edie: the 👀 are already insane colours

Liam: no match for yours in real life

Edie: [pics forever]

Edie: [obviously also make your enemies to actually kill and send that]

Liam: if you sent it to Lexie nobody’d believe she created herself looking that accurate

Edie: harsh reality of a sim

Edie: the alpha CC does look like her facetune attempts, tbf

Liam: at least you can make her try to seduce the grim reaper instead of me

Edie: she’ll have ample opportunity to meet him

Edie: [all the dramatic deaths cut with her sim when they get hysterical]

Edie: I’m still mad at her

Edie: Rih blatantly thinking it was me too, not surprising but still 🖕

Edie: how’s it been today

Liam: only bc she knows how smart you are and most people who Lex hangs out with ain’t, I barely had to cover for you so she don’t really wanna think it

Edie: story of her life

Liam: how 😡 are you

Edie: it’s exhausting being mad at her, there’s nothing to do

Edie: people like Lexie, you can fuck with, or care even less than that

Liam: would it make you feel better to fuck with Lexie more

Edie: I wanna make you feel better more

Edie: you must be feeling as bored and crazy as me, if not more

Liam: if I could feel anything it’d be 💔 you’re not happy or here

Edie: is it worse

Edie: nothing

Edie: maybe that’s stupid

Edie: nothing seems preferable sometimes but only sometimes, which is maybe what takes it over feeling too much

Liam: it’s isolating, everyone expects me to feel too much, that’s acceptable, even years after

Edie: acceptance would be easier

Edie: you have me

Edie: no matter what

Edie: idc if no one else gets me, you do

Liam: I dunno what it says about people that they’d be happy if I was going round punching holes in walls but I know my ma would

Liam: she looks at me like she’s waiting for it, watching for a massive crack or something

Edie: they’ve got their reason, they want the reaction

Edie: then they can link a and b and ???

Edie: problem solved, not really

Edie: but they understand it and can wash their hands of you

Edie: that’s what they give a shit about

Liam: yeah

Edie: enough sympathy and hot meals dropped off and you’ll be ‘fixed’

Edie: you weren’t even the sick one

Liam: get enough hobbies, a part-time job, a girlfriend, move the fuck on

Edie: right

Edie: it’s so

Edie: I can’t think of the word

Liam: “she’d want you to be happy/have a life” no she fucking wouldn’t, she wanted it for herself

Edie: dead people get sainted

Edie: no room for who they actually were, better and worse

Liam: she’d hate me having any of those things just to rub in her face

Edie: what was she like, between being sick

Liam: I’ll show you

Edie: do you reckon she’d want you to remember what she’d want for you then, instead of how she was at the end

Edie: not to be like every other cunt about it

Edie: not that simple, or at all

Liam: she was a teenage girl, she’d probably want me to do more fitting in too until I’ve completed the coming of age shite milestones everyone else is, instead of telling other teenage girls from the internet how fucked up I am 😏

Edie: I think that might be a milestone so 👏

Edie: the bullshit of your sister not having her own life to live dealt with then, in this scenario

Edie: we have to find what you want

Edie: even if that’s not 🤵👧🐶🧒👰 with me

Edie: not gonna be Lexie about it, you know

Edie: I’ll still help you find it

Liam: I want you, not to be gay about it

Liam: to see where this is gonna go, how far I can take it before it ends

Edie: then let’s do it

Edie: what can I do today

Liam: what would you be doing if you could do anything

Edie: that’s the problem

Edie: I wanna be with you

Edie: but I don’t know what we’d do yet

Liam: I said I’d show you what my sister was like, the quickest way to do it is to act like nothing matters, your behaviour has no consequences

Liam: it’s not about me at all, only what you want, what’s gonna happen

Edie: and I can’t hurt you

Edie: because you don’t feel anything yet, yeah?

Liam: you can’t hurt me

Edie: you promise

Edie: do that and then we can do what I want

Liam: how do you want me to promise

Edie: 🤏🩸

Edie: mine is 📫

Liam: [brb father he’s gotta go draw some blood and put it into something she can wear as jewellery like Angelina Jolie and record the endeavour to send to the bae]

Edie: [that’s exactly what we gonna send, I know you can legit buy them so I’ll find a cool pic tah, his poor father so confusion]

Liam: [great minds boo]

Edie: kiss it better for me

Liam: [send her another video boy we’re in this deep]

Edie: god

Edie: okay, what do you do to relieve stress, let go and let off steam

Edie: do that

Liam: what do I do or what should you, bc I have an idea that I think would make you feel better about your sister

Edie: you can start by telling me what I should do because I’m intrigued

Liam: she said she’d lose it at Lexie if she did anything to you, if you lower your IQ by at least 100 you could have fun trashing her room but making it look like she did it herself to frame you, you’d have to wait til she was forced out with her family and bc there’s no check in or selfie proof everyone would just think they’re covering for her, but that’d be the only boring bit

Liam: your sister would feel bad for falling for it and believing you might be involved at all

Edie: I definitely don’t want to see her at mine ever again

Edie: I’ll do it

Edie: Bet she has a shrine to you

Liam: a curse would explain me being dead inside

Edie: she has no ✨

Edie: so whilst I’m ripping the heads off all her 🧸s

Edie: you’ve gotta do��

Liam: 🏊 the only thing there is to do

Edie: your da didn’t come prepared? 🔥🪓

Liam: he’d be prepared with a 🧯 more like but I don’t need his help 🔥🪓

Edie: you should see if anyone is around, like anywhere

Edie: see how easy it is to 👀 them without getting caught

Liam: it’s like you know me inside out

Edie: I do

Edie: I’ve got X-Ray 👀s

Liam: next time you miss me you can do an artistic rendering

Edie: of all your vital organs

Edie: not to kill the mystery and show myself up as a fake fan on the forums

Edie: but I think the outside view of you is a lot prettier 😳🥰

Liam: ok I’ll not send you any in the 📫

Edie: only the non-vitals, tah 😏

Liam: what’s left Alexis hasn’t got in her shrine

Edie: she 🥺 so hard you gave her your gallbladder

Liam: 10% risk of shitting myself side effects after it’s gone, 100% chance of that putting her off wanting to jump me, I’d do it

Edie: no need to do that now I’m here

Edie: no one is gonna wanna jump her when she’s outed as 😵🥴🤡

Liam: I’ll keep the scalpel sharp for lads who wanna get with you when they realise you’re 🤩🤓😎😇😈

Edie: I’m not complaining

Edie: I only want you around, ever

Liam: I’ll be going nowhere without you ever when I get back

Edie: Good

Edie: because I feel like

Edie: it’s like I’m doing so much to fill my time but I still just think about and miss you constantly

Liam: I’ll climb a tree and call you from the top

Edie: Describe your view the best you can

Edie: like I’m there too

Liam: facetime’ll make you feel like you are

Edie: not quite VR but I’ll take it

Edie: talking to you feels like our own 🪐 anyway

Liam: [do climb a tree and call her because what a mood just like you’re Elizabeth Allen]

Edie: [save that tree henny]

Liam: [do we wanna skip to his bday now or is there anything else you can think of that you wanna do while he’s still away?]

Edie: [hmm, we probably know the vibe, she’s busy with all the things they’re gonna continue when he’s back, also finding the first house they can break into and stay in, fucking with Lexie loads more]

Liam: [yeah and if we do think of anything specific later we can skip back it’s chill]

Edie: [let’s do it]

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raichijin · 4 years ago

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ukiyo; the floating world. chapter 2.

━━━━━ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓.

preface; took me exactly a week to write. possibly the most uneventful, but important in setting up the rest of the story. enjoy ! (also, my first writing post on this account ! awesome.)

word count; 1.6k .

pretty. a pretty boy; with eyes the color of almonds and hair the same shade of rich oaky brown as a morning cup of coffee.

his smile is sweet like creamer, & the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he closes them is cute, too.

a new relationship, perhaps?

you’re so in awe that when you notice his face fall and he’s pulling his hand away, you realize it’s been 15 seconds and you’ve been standing for approximately 30, just staring.

wow, that’s awkward.

“... are you okay?” he asks you again, slower this time.

“i — yeah! totally. i just— i guess i’m just lost?” you look around for anything that could trigger a memory, or even something that looks remotely familiar.

there’s nothing. “yeah, that must be it...ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵒˢᵗ.” he tilts his head at you, then smiles a little thinner, with only his lips and no teeth before gesturing towards the classroom door, other hand digging into his pants pocket.

“then i can show you around!” he hastily offers, giving you his arm before you even know his name, and the scary possibility that the ‘you’ in this world might’ve had a more notable presence starts sounding like a reality when your name falls effortlessly from his bubblegum pink lips, a cutesy ‘chan’ accompanying it.

“ah, you know me?”

& while his nose crinkles in a way that’s not cute nor pretty, his smile remains steadfast until he turns away. “well, who doesn’t? our school doesn’t get exchange students too often. especially not ones as handsome as yourself~.” there’s that lilt again. as if he’s trying to make you fall in love with his voice alone, and you might’ve (you are).

“oh! uh, thank you, but-” you both step into the hallway, and the image of a highschool is imprinting itself in your brain. the uniform, the students, teachers, each class room and their individual signs, the kanji that somehow makes sense, and the sudden realization that everything around you is being spoken in spitfire japanese.

you’re speaking it, too.

“i don’t think i know you. what’s your name?”

the cute guy blanches, and suddenly everything seems more interesting to him.

his fingernails, a sudden itch on his nose, and random (read: fawning) passerby.

“um — i’m oikawa! the captain of the volleyball team?” oikawa phrases it like a question, as if you know him; and if he was expecting that flexing that kind of achievement would give him some kind of leeway, he couldn’t be more mistaken.

but for politeness sake, you can pretend to be interested, especially if it means he’d divulge more information about the school.

‘seijoh’ was the name, right? you could probably search it up later. you pat your pockets for the outline of a cell phone, and then realize it might still be in your bag —

fuck, you still haven’t responded. you need to get better with your reaction time.

“oh! that’s cool.” said in a way that does a decent enough job of feigning interest, because his lips quirk back up. “class ended, right? are you gonna go to practice right now?”

“well...” he pretends to ponder the question. “that’s the plan! we should get going, before iwa-chan gets mad at me.”

iwa-chan?

we?

“i — i mean, i would, but i don’t wanna be a bother —” but he’s already taking your hand and pulling you down the hall and out a door, quickly explaining some things you see that catch your eye along the way. before you know it, he’s guiding you towards a different building entirely, where the entrance is crowded by … students? some boys, some girls, some not even wearing the school’s uniform.

and they’re definitely not in any volleyball uniforms, or in anything in relation to sports. so what could they possibly be here for?

a high pitched squeal very quickly answers your question.

“look! he’s here!” the gaggle of students nearly trample you with how fast they surround oikawa, too busy ogling the captain to pay you much mind. you would’ve gotten swept away in the commotion if not for oikawa’s tightened grip around your wrist.

he tries (and fails) to calm down the small crowd huddled around him, but it makes enough noise that it starts to attract the attention from the players inside the gym. some look jealous, unsurprised, and one, standing out amongst the rest. with his lips pulled back into a sneer, sweat dripping down the side of his face, and —

“SHITTYKAWA!” the noise outside quiets down to a few whispers and just as quickly the crowd came in, they clear out, as the nameless begins to approach.

he carries himself high and fast and even if he comes up to a little under oikawa height wise, whoever he is, he clearly has mr. volleyball captain at least bashful.

… didn’t he mention someone who’d get pissy if he was late to practice?

“is that —”

“iwa-chaaaaaan!” oikawa waves his hands absently as a means to placate his friend's temper, and he lets go of you in the process, providing you an ample opportunity to slip back into school, but your feet feel stuck to the floor and you can’t bring yourself to look away from the scene unfolding. this iwa-chan talks to oikawa like he’s his mother. stern with sharp features and a look that could actually kill.

oikawa really fucked up, huh? well, he might’ve not even gotten told if you didn’t pop out of the damn closet though. but it’s too late to apologize, because oikawa’s pointing at you, says something about you being the reason he got held up, and iwa-chan is directing that hard stare at you.

you could melt. if oikawa was pretty, then iwa-chan was handsome. a new love interest perhaps? he seemed hot enough to be one. where oikawa’s smile felt accommodating, iwa-chan’s sneer morphing into an expression of indifference and then slight charm feels more real, and is, in turn, more endearing.

“and you’re the new student? you’re the reason why he’s late?” you nod sharply, and explain how you fell out of the closet… and how oikawa helped you up. he flicks oikawa’s forehead just then, and you laugh, worsened by the kicked puppy expression scribbled all over the captain’s face.

“you’re laughing at this? iwa-chan! cut it out — you’re already rubbing off on them!”

“trashykawa! what the hell were you trying to do with the transfer?” he tugs on his ear like a disappointed parent, but shoots you an apologetic smile.

“i’m sorry you had to deal with him.” oh, you beautiful human, you do not have to be sorry for anything — “i can take him from here — just tell me if this dumbass bothers you again.”

“i wasn’t bothering them i —” iwa-chan glares daggers into him and he concedes, letting himself get dragged into the gym building, his teammates laughing at him, and leaving you behind. they all trail inside before the gym doors close, and suddenly, this area feels pointless.

was this the end of the day?

you go back into the school, backpack slung anxiously over your shoulder. how were you supposed to find the bedroom to save your game if you didn’t even know where your house was? did you miss a cutscene? did you do something wrong?

a distinct buzzing from your backpack halts your train of thought.

you dig through your pack to find your phone, a rectangular brick with a few stickers on it, opening to your fingerprint and showing you text message notifications from one ushiwaka-san.

the third named character you’ve met in a day.

ushiwaka-san: have you reached home yet?

huh. is he your parent? guardian? you don’t know any kid who’d put their fathers name so informally.

you: uh, not quite, no

you: how do i get back? i kind of like

you: forgot

you: my bad dad

ushiwaka-san is … typing !

ushiwaka-san: dad?

ushiwaka-san: what do you mean?

ushiwaka-san is … typing !

ushiwaka-san: whatever.

ushiwaka-san: give me a moment.

you cringe at how badly you misread that, but he eventually sends you the address and instructions on how to get to, where you hope is, home, and with a few pointers from some straggler students, you’re off.

the sun is kissing the hills by the time you’ve reached your destination. your legs are burning from the walk, and you feel like you could collapse on the doorstep if you didn’t know your bed was behind it, decidedly more comfortable than the concrete.

you find some keys in the side pocket of your bag and unlock the door to the house. it looks pretty enough on the inside, but you’re too tired to appreciate the graphics. you just want to save the game and be done with this.

forty dollars for a walking simulator? no wonder your friend didn’t like it. you have to duck into a few rooms before one reminds you of the one they showed you when the game booted up originally. you flop on the bed before you get the sudden urge to look at your phone again.

a notes app has popped up.

you can write your discoveries after a scenario here. useful for remembering important things, like dates, likes and dislikes, etc.

you can access this when not in a scene, occasionally in-between or during class, or when you’re in your room for the night.

it feels like someones projecting their thoughts into your brain, and it kind of hurts, but you keep it in mind for the next time. you can’t even bother to get out of your uniform before it’s like your eyes are shutting themselves, no matter how much you try to force them back open.

the day is ending, and it’s time to save your progress.

you black out.

the void cradles you. a feeling akin to falling asleep yet wide awake, you settle here until the confirmation of a saved game rings vaguely through your head.

then, just as suddenly,

you’re up.

passing the baton to you kat! @letshaikyuu.

𝔱 𝔞 𝔤 𝔩 𝔦 𝔰 𝔱 ; @kingkageyamathegreat, @sayakaaaaaa, @tobubekida-yo @chigigami, @sugacookiies, @macaronnv, @cadekagi

#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #oikawa toru x reader #iwaizumi haijime x reader #hq!!#hq!! x reader #🌩️ L1GHTN1NG_STRIKE5.pdf #ukiyo: the floating world

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jbuffyangel · 6 years ago

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Undeserved Forgiveness: Arrow 7x18 Review (Lost Canary)

After seven years and 150 episodes (yes, I math’d it) Arrow has finally paid off a L*urel L*ance storyline in a way that makes sense and feels earned.

Let’s dig in…

Olicity

Sometimes the Arrow writers are so obtuse about their audience it boggles my mind. Then there are other times when they are so self aware I can’t help but laugh. “Lost Canary” is one of those self aware moment. It’s almost as if the writers said to themselves, “Okay. This episode is gonna be a lot about birds so we better give the audience some Olicity goodies to keep them happy.”

Smart move.

Arrow has to ship the boys off somewhere in order to have their all girls episode. Rene is off with Zoe on a school field trip while Oliver and Diggle try to find the person who killed Emiko’s mother, so they can convince her not to be evil. Or something? I think? It boils down to a interrogation of a Longbow Hunter. Yeah, remember the Longbow Hunters? Who knew they were still a thing? Not me.

It’s kind of fantastic all the guys are stuck with monumentally crappy storylines while the ladies have their moment in the sun. Ah the gloriousness of reversing gender roles.

Anywho, Oliver is going to leave Felicity which means WE GET WORRIED DADDY!

Oliver begs Felicity to take it easy.

Pffft, it’s like he’s never watched Arrow before. Dude, know your genre.

Felicity promises she’s going Netflix and chill. Oh girl, you totes just jinxed it.

And then it happens. Oliver rubs his stomach and says...

Source: olicitygifs

April 15, 2019 will hence forth be known as Precious Cargo Day in the Olicity fandom. We shall drink and sing in merriment while binge watching Olicity moments in celebration of this blessed day. For this is the day fan fiction came to life.

We’re five minutes and twelve seconds into this episode and I already think it’s fantastic.

After Oliver returns from his Longbow Hunter thing (Seriously don’t ask me what happened)

and Felicity returns from saving a soul and giving Earth 2 a hero to fight for them, our wonderfully stable and unproblematic married couple cuddle on the couch. Honestly, I don’t understand why Olicity snuggling and watching Netflix isn’t a hit show? It’s Emmy award winning entertainment.

Source: olicitygifs

Felicity was away from Oliver for a day and she practically ran into her husband’s arms, so I really don’t know how homegirl is gonna do twenty years without him. It hurts to think about, so let’s focus on the happy.

Source: olicitygifs

Oliver wants to order whatever Felicity is craving because he’s determined to be fictional perfection so no one can have realistic expectations of non fictional men. Felicity informs him L*urel is going back to Earth 2. He doesn’t care. I cannot describe to you how much Oliver Queen doesn’t care about any version of L*urel L*ance.

Once again I reflect upon the road we have traveled my friends. I don’t know how we got here, but our destination is glorious.

Worried Daddy is far more concerned that Felicity didn’t take it easy as she promised, but no worries the Green Arrow is here!

Oliver promises to take care of Felicity and then promptly falls asleep on her shoulder because he’s so exhausted.

Yup, that pretty much sums up the first trimester right there. You’re pregnant but you’re husband is the exhausted one.

She finagles a foot rub out of half asleep Oliver and they both collapse. MAX DOMESTICITY ACHIEVED.

Source: olicitygifs

Honestly, the show could have ended right here. I’d be thrilled.

Felicity Smoak and Canary Corp.

Yes, that’s the official title of the episode. Don’t @ me. Arrow has tried this Birds of Prey thing before. Remember Helena, L*urel and Sara in Season 2? Yeah, neither do I and why? BECAUSE IT DIDN’T HAVE FELICITY IN IT. Too bitter?

The Felicity Smoak/Oracle similarities were not lost on the Arrow writers and it’s clear they tried to adopt the moniker for our girl’s codename, but were shot down by the DC brass. Overwatch it is then and, as usual when it comes to Felicity Smoak and Emily Bett Rickards, she has made it her own.

This is Emily’s last season and therefore Arrow’s last chance to do a Birds of Prey themed episode with Felicity Smoak at the helm. Boy, they did not waste the opportunity. Thank goodness too because that would have been a real bummer.

“Lost Canary” is full on girl power. Arrow has many female characters, but the storylines are dominated by the men. It’s not a shocker. The main character is male. The writing staff I believe has been male dominated until a shake up this season. That’s not to say the male writers haven’t crafted a fantastic show with some amazing female characters – Felicity Smoak being at the top of the list. However, this show is long over due for the spotlight to shine on the female characters, actresses and writers.

Representation means hearing the voices of the marginalized, but “Lost Canary” is not simply Arrow ticking a box. Nor did the writers pad the episode with trite and insulting dialogue like...

(I will forever side eye The Flush for that one.)

No, “Lost Canary” is steeped in big life questions as it addresses the season theme of redemption head on. Each character has her own perspective on Bl*ck S*ren and redemption as a whole. Each character is given ample screen time to voice her perspective as the women debate the best way to handle Bl*ck S*ren’s recent downward spiral… or perhaps it’s a stagnant upward spiral. The point is the women are written like the multi faceted characters they are. WOULD WONDERS EVER CEASE?

Let the redemption debate commence.

Source: dcmultiverse

Bl*ck S*ren is back in the evil business. See, you can tell because of the all leather, black lipstick, cloak, tacky techno music and the sashay walk KC ripped off from Nina Dobrev.

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

This is what I like to call an “Everything but the kitchen sink” visual trope. Oh hell, the kitchen sink was there too.

Bl*ck S*ren chucks the three piece power suits, with the shoulder pads that can fly her to Hong Kong, in favor of a more diabolical ensemble to convey her inner turmoil. The subtext is pretty much text. Arrow hammering away at it should be a monumentally huge tip off for where Bl*ck S*ren’s character is going.

The surprise isn’t so much where Arrow is going with this character, but rather in how they get there.

Admittedly, I struggled with E1 L*urel L*ance. I couldn’t stand her romance with Oliver, couldn’t keep up with her flip flopping personality, grew tired of her blaming everyone but herself, couldn’t forgive her for Tommy, hated her disdainful treatment of Felicity, and found her to be a insufferable pain in the ass, which she compounded by becoming a drunken, insufferable pain in the ass.

Whew. Season 1 and Season 2 were rough.

I had one bright and shining hope for this character – her Bl*ck C*nary storyline. It was a colossal disappointment.

Not even my deep love for the Lance sisters could save my investment in L*urel and I was overjoyed when Arrow killed her. It remains one of the best creative decisions this show ever made.

Regardless of the reasons for KC’s return (and there are reasons my friends), the writers smartly chose not to resurrect L*urel.

No need to bring back that mess. Instead, they started over with some doppelganger hijinks and crafted Evil L*urel aka Bl*ck S*ren from Earth 2.

It turns out Evil L*urel is a hell of a lot more fun than Saint L*urel. The character plays to KC’s acting strengths and she didn’t impede on Dinah Drake’s storyline as Bl*ck C*nary. Well, not much.

But the dramatic linchpin in Bl*ck S*ren’s character is that she’s not L*urel. Yes, she looks and sounds like the L*urel L*ance Team Arrow loved and lost, but no amount of time would ever make this woman into a replica of the one who died. This is a good thing because the woman Oliver Queen dedicated that ridiculous statue to was a hindrance to the story.

L*urel’s Season 6 arc was infuriating primarily because they reduced a meta human to a helpless victim. The writers shredded Quentin Lance’s character as he pursued his deeply unhealthy obsession with resurrecting his dead daughter through an entirely different human being. Let us never speak of it again.

Season 7 is a vast improvement. The good/evil push/pull remains the dramatic well the writers drink from, but instead of cramming old L*urel down Bl*ck S*ren’s throat they allowed her character to breathe. The fact she was different from L*urel is what made her interesting. Arrow didn’t run from it. They embraced it. And they paired her with an unlikely partner.

Felicity Smoak.

Bl*ck S*ren’s willingness to cross lines, including murder, was a necessary evil because Felicity’s husband was trapped inside the system. She needed help from someone with access and who wouldn’t be afraid to go over the line to get the job done. Suddenly, being evil doppelganger playing pretend lawyer was massive pro.

Bl*ck S*ren’s a sardonic wit and glowering demeanor made the perfect straight woman to Felicity Smoak’s ball of sunshine.

Except, Felicity wasn’t a ball of sunshine and more often than not L*urel was stopping her from going too far.

The two women worked in tandem as they questioned their morality and what defines good and evil. The ebb and flow of light and dark allowed Felicity and L*urel to see each other differently.

This sparked understanding, respect and finally compassion. Their interactions felt more honest than anything that transpired between E1 L*urel and Felicity and as a result their friendship was more believable.

I’ve enjoyed the good/evil/push/pull dynamic that’s made up the majority of Bl*ck S*ren’s arc this season because it was fairly even handed. When L*urel tipped too far in one direction they would shift her the other way. Every time L*urel helped Felicity with Oliver’s case or pulled her back from the ledge, she would follow it up with almost murdering someone.

Bl*ck S*ren’s instinct in almost any given scenario was to kill first and ask questions later. It flew in the face of the straight laced, law abiding DA image she cultivated by stealing E1 L*urel L*ance’s identity. The writers did this deliberately because everything that made Bl*ck S*ren “evil” is still there even as she tried emulating Quentin Lance’s dearly departed L*urel.

But eventually the writers need to pick a lane. Arrow has two choices – keep Bl*ck S*ren evil or redeem her. It’s kind of a like a love triangle. You can play with the back and forth for awhile, but eventually the writers need to make a decision. Otherwise the story loses any emotional authenticity.

The real shock of “Lost Canary” is how the writers present both sides of the argument. It’s so fair and logical. A L*urel L*ance centric episode is making sense. Talk about feeling like a fish out of water.

Dinah and Felicity are diametrically opposed when it comes to who Bl*ck S*ren is and if she can be redeemed. The argument boils down to nature versus nurture, but how Felicity and Dinah arrive at their individual conclusion fits not only within the scope of their own storylines, but within L*urel’s as well.

Dinah is nature. She firmly believes L*urel is an irredeemable killer and all efforts to save her are for naught because a killer is who she is. Dinah issues a warrant for L*urel’s arrest and believes she killed Diaz. I’ve been loudly advocating for some jail time for L*urel, but I didn’t really expect Arrow to go there. I’m not that lucky. A warrant for her arrest and L*urel on the run is close enough.

It’s understandable why Dinah believes Bl*ck S*ren is a lost cause. She witnessed her boyfriend’s murder at L*urel’s hand and a tearful apology doesn’t erase what happened.

Dinah has also been there any time L*urel has decided to murder someone, typically out of frustration, anger or to protect her own self interests. She would pull L*urel back from the ledge, but it’s difficult for her to believe BS was ever on the wagon when she so frequently fell off it.

Dinah is not wrong. L*urel is a murderer. Murder is L*urel’s default position whenever the going is rough, which is exactly what is happening now. Yes, L*urel is wrongly accused of murder, but let us not forget all the murders she did commit and has yet to pay for. Dinah didn’t love Bl*ck S*ren’s approach when it came to interrogating criminals, but the answer to these problems is not a crime spree.

Felicity is nurture. In the beginning, Felicity did not see Bl*ck S*ren as anything but criminal pretending to be her dead friend. She emotionally manipulated people and was reaping all the benefits of E1 L*urel’s life.

But the hubby was in the slammer and Felicity needed a lawyer, fake or real it didn’t matter. Desperate times call for desperate measures. L*urel was one of the only people to have Felicity’s back and their partnership grew into real friendship. Felicity has been the beneficiary of L*urel’s kindness and love, so she knows without a doubt there is good but it needs to be encouraged.

Felicity is so ardent in her belief that she bizarrely blames herself for L*urel’s crime spree because she wasn’t a good enough friend.

Let’s just pretend that’s true for a second (even though it’s not). The max penalty Felicity could incur would be paying for drinks some night. But L*urel tries to blow up Felicity and HER BABY. I feel safe categorizing that as an insane overreaction.

The truth is Felicity has been an amazing friend to L*urel and she continues to be throughout the episode. She proves to Dinah that L*urel has been framed by Emiko for Diaz’s murder. Felicity offers L*urel her support even after she goes on a crime spree.

L*urel: Oliver’s sister did me a favor because I was really sick and tired of pretending to be someone I’m not. Plus, no one believed it any way.

Felicity: I did! Look, what happened to you wasn’t fair. You were accused of murder, you lost your job, Dinah didn’t have your back I get it. You got a bucket load of bad news, but you are not Bl*ck S*ren. Not anymore.

L*urel: That’s funny I used to believe that too.

Felicity: Think of the good you’ve done L*urel. Think of honoring Quentin!

L*urel: Quentin is dead. Nobody cares about Quentin. He only wanted his daughter back.

Felicity: That is not true.

Well… far be it from me to disagree with my Queen but it is kind of true. This is a wonderfully impassioned speech even if I don’t agree with all of Felicity’s arguments. Sadly L*urel pretty much spits in Felicity’s face and is generally undeserving of all this support and understanding.

Felicity and Dinah have it out after L*urel tries to blow them up. Felicity continues to blame herself for this Bl*ck S*ren spiral whereas Dinah is firmly entrenched in the “Bl*ck S*ren Is a Murderer” camp. Felicity calls Dinah out on her hypocrisy when she boasts in a fit of moral superiority that she could have gone down the same road as L*urel, but didn’t.

Felicity accurately points out that the reason Dinah didn’t go down the same road was because she had the team. Dinah had friends who loved and supported her even when she didn’t deserve it.

Felicity ain’t wrong! I forgot Dinah is a murderer too. Yes, there is a big difference between murdering bad people versus murdering good people, but it doesn’t change the fact that Dinah has also taken lives.

While we’re on the subject on Vinnie, she also lied to the team about her relationship with him

and went on a crazy revenge bender after Bl*ck S*ren murdered him.

Dinah was in the Newbie tantrum up to her elbows, which included assaulting OTA when they refused to hand over Bl*ck S*ren.

Dinah was forgiven for all of these transgressions and welcomed back to the team with open arms without even apologizing. Now she’s the captain of the police force and a deputized vigilante. All of which would have never happened without Oliver Queen and Team Arrow.

Dinah was forgiven when she didn’t deserve it.

It was the second chance she needed to become someone who is deserving of that forgiveness.

(We can argue the semantics of whether or not Dinah really has become someone worthy of Oliver and Felicity’s love and trust another day. For the sake of this episode let’s just roll with it.)

Dinah continues to argue that even if all of that is true (WHICH IT IS HONEYCAKES) it doesn’t apply to L*urel because she doesn’t want a second chance. She never did. Felicity pushes back once again and argues the opposite. She thinks L*urel wants a second chance more than anyone else and didn’t realize it until it was already gone.

WOW. What a scene. It’s so invigorating to see two female characters argue passionately about something that has nothing to do with a man. This debate is about friendship, faith and forgiveness. It’s about the true meaning of redemption, who deserves it, and who decides who deserves it. Felicity and Dinah are arguing about their fundamental beliefs and challenging one another’s morality.

Source: hollandrooden

Dinah gave L*urel a chance and she blew it, so enough is enough. Felicity feels L*urel was succeeding at that second chance until she was wrongly accused. Sometimes people need several chances to get it right. I completely understand both Dinah and Felicity’s positions, which is how you know it’s a great storyline. If you can see both sides of the coin then the writers are mining drama with serious depth.

Both women are right and both are wrong. We’ve been exploring Bl*ck S*ren’s redemption since Season 5, but “Lost Canary” feels like the first honest conversation being had about it. I understand Dinah’s frustration because they are my frustrations.

I do not believe throwing on a three piece suit, playing lawyer, living someone else’s life and enjoying all the benefits someone else earned qualifies as redemption. Pretending to be E1 L*urel L*ance has protected Bl*ck S*ren from facing justice for any of her crimes. While I appreciate she’s helped put criminals away, freed Oliver Queen, and is a good friend to Felicity Smoak, it does not even out the cosmic scales when compared to the evil she has committed.

Bl*ck S*ren is a murderer. She was coddled by Quentin Lance because she looks like his dead daughter. Felicity reaches out again and again and Bl*ck S*ren continually rejects her love, support and forgiveness. I’ve watched Bl*ck S*ren time and again head out to murder someone as a solution to whatever problem she’s trying to solve. I’ve watched both Dinah and Felicity stop L*urel from committing those murders.

L*urel stopped because she was caught – not because she thinks murder is wrong. She doesn’t express remorse for wanting to kill someone either. She typically has a snippy remark for Dinah and Felicity as she slinks away from the scene of her premeditated murder.

Unfortunately, the writers are treating Bl*ck S*ren’s penchant to murder the same as E1 L*urel’s alcoholism. Felicity and Dinah tell Bl*ck S*ren to put down the drink and convince her to stay on the wagon. But we aren’t talking about booze. Bl*ck S*ren’s addiction is killing people. NOT. THE. SAME. THING. I get it, Dinah. Trust me.

Then there’s Felicity Smoak. She sees the best in Bl*ck S*ren even when she’s at her worst. Primarily because Bl*ck S*ren saw Felicity at her worst and pulled her back from the brink.

Felicity is not a killer because Bl*ck S*ren offered her hope. So, it’s understandable why Felicity refuses to abandon her friend especially now.

But that’s not all of it. Sure, BS was a good friend to Felicity, but that’s not why she is standing by her. The truth is Felicity Smoak is a really good person. She is intensely compassionate, loyal and supportive. Felicity sees the best in people and her ability to pull that light from those she loves is unparalleled. Nearly every character in the Arrowverse has benefited from Felicity’s steadfast encouragement.

I know this aspect of the character often frustrates some people. Some believe Felicity is used to prop up other characters. Her character suffers because she’s constantly launching another superhero.

The fastest way to cultivate a positive fan response to a new character is to filter that character through Felicity Smoak. She represents the audience opinions more often than not. Her popularity has a way of spilling over to problematic characters and it casts them in a more positive light. I don’t deny Arrow employs this practice often.

But I never saw it as a negative. Felicity is the believer. It’s what I love most about her. Diggle is the mind (moral compass) and Oliver is the soul, but Felicity is the heart. She is the hero of heroes.

L*urel L*ance was a wildly problematic character. The writers never quite knew what to do with her and they could never really settle on a personality with a defined set of characteristics.

We never knew what version of L*urel we were going to get week to week.

The writers struggled with her even more after rerouting the central romance away from Laurel to Felicity. Her storylines never seemed to get the necessary focus they required even though it felt like we spent an inordinate amount of time on L*urel. Watching Arrow develop her character was a lot like running in place, as @callistawolf once said.

Her messy history with Oliver also seemed to be the elephant in the room when it came to any friendship with Felicity. There’s never any discussion around the events of the Season 2 finale. Felicity wondered if Oliver’s “I love you” was real and I’m sure L*urel had some questions too.

Did she think it was all a ruse to save her life or did she simply accept that Oliver was really in love with Felicity? It seems like the latter although it’s never actually addressed. If there was any confusion on L*urel’s part I guess 3x01 cleared it up because the only thing on Oliver’s mind was Felicity Megan Smoak.

Arrow likes to pretend L*uriver never happened and it is completely understandable. It’s a bad dream we’d all like to forget,

but L*urel’s central connection to the team remained an ex boyfriend she didn’t like very much. I appreciate the show wanting to define a relationship between Felicity and L*urel outside of Oliver, but ignoring L*urel’s romantic history with him didn’t feel very honest.

Perhaps their friendship would have been more believable if the writers set aside time for L*urel and Felicity to bond outside of Team Arrow, but they didn’t. L*urel just shows up in the foundry and starts barking orders.

Even Felicity questioned their relationship status. Girl, same. They had moments of kindness, but we never saw them work as partners or enjoy each other as friends like Felicity and Bl*ck S*ren.

In fact, one of the most common arguments against L*urel being in the grave was that Felicity would never be that upset because she wasn’t that close to L*urel. HA! A lot of L*urel’s character was built upon telling rather than showing and her friendship with Felicity is one of the many areas the writers made that very frequent mistake.

The writers did not make that same mistake with Bl*ck S*ren. They gave her friendship with Felicity time to develop. They started off as enemies, but as circumstances evolved so did their relationship.

Bizarrely, this is why Bl*ck S*ren’s and Felicity’s friendship feels more honest and earned than anything Felicity had with E1 L*urel L*ance. Bl*ck S*ren’s connection to Team Arrow is through Felicity. She has absolutely nothing to do with Oliver Queen and IT’S FANTASTIC.

The writers tried to connect L*urel through Oliver for four years, but he was never the solution. Felicity is.

Felicity is the solution because she has a big bandwidth when it comes to forgiveness. No one has benefited more from it than Oliver Queen. Murder isn’t a deal breaker for Felicity. She fell in love with Oliver when he was dropping bodies. She barely blinked at Sara’s assassin history. Diggle murdered his own brother and I don’t think Felicity even commented on it. Remember when Roy thought he killed Sara? Who did he tell first? Felicity. She was freaked but calm. Dinah was a murderer and Felicity welcomed her onto the team with open arms. Rene pulled a gun on her and it was totally cool. I mean, sweet mother of Moses she was friends with Curtis Holt and tolerated his mansplaining and misogynistic bullshit, which says it all.

So is it really a shock Felicity is ride or die when it comes to Bl*ck S*ren? No. I identify with Dinah’s frustrations, but recognize Felicity is on the higher road. Simply put, Felicity Smoak is a better person than me. The belief she is giving Bl*ck S*ren is no different than the belief she gave to Oliver or Sara.

So, she’s challenging me as well. I cannot cheer Felicity on when she offers unconditional love to Oliver or Sara or John, but admonish her when she offers the same to L*urel L*ance. Sara was an assassin and I didn’t demand a prison sentence for her.

That said, I see one massive difference between Bl*ck S*ren and Oliver Queen. Oliver was remorseful about his past and crippled with guilt. He didn’t need additional punishment because he was already punishing himself enough. Oliver also spent five years in hell, lost nearly everyone he’s ever loved and is constantly sacrificing his happiness for the greater good.

His redemptive journey is wildly different from Bl*ck S*ren’s. Oliver didn’t get to just toss on a nice suit and call it a day. And he killed bad people!!! So, I maybe I can’t hold Bl*ck S*ren to a higher standard than other characters I love, but I can damn well hold her to the same standard.

So, is L*urel remorseful?

We don’t have to pick between Felicity and Dinah because it is possible to hold L*urel accountable and be compassionate. This is where Sara comes in.

Source: canarygifs

I have been incredibly frustrated with how Arrow has used Sara in the past when she’s come back as a guest star. I’m still ticked she didn’t get a goodbye scene with Quentin. The Sara I know on Legends isn’t always the same on Arrow, but “Lost Canary” is different. The writers give Sara her due and she reflects on her journey in a way she’s been allowed to before.

Everyone knows I’m a huge Lance sisters fan. The one saving grace in L*urel’s Season 2 storyline was when it stopped being about her relationship with Oliver and she began to focus on repairing her relationship with Sara.

I bought into the Bl*ck C*nary storyline in Season 3 because I believed Sara’s death was a life altering catalytic event for L*urel. “The Calm” remains my favorite L*urel L*ance episode and I will always believe Sara is her great love and vice versus. We all need something or someone to live for and that love doesn’t always have to be romantic in nature.

So, Sara coming back to town to protect her sister’s good name and offer some wisdom to Bl*ck S*ren made a lot of sense to me. Sara is the one who pieces together that maybe failing to kill Felicity and Dinah wasn’t a mistake after all. She uses her sisterly intuition and finds Bl*ck S*ren at Quentin’s grave.

Source: canarygifs

Sara gives it to L*urel straight in an EPIC speech. She owns all her past mistakes. Sara cheated with her sister’s boyfriend, let her family believe she was dead and then became an assassin.

Yuuuup. Sara Lance history sure is colorful! Each one of these errors in judgment is an unforgivable offense. And yet, L*urel found a way to forgive Sara. Well, after she blamed her for absolutely everything that went wrong in her and boozed her way through the liquor cabinet, but let’s not get bogged down in the details.

This remains my favorite Lance sister scene of all time because L*urel does not go to Sara offering forgiveness. No, L*urel comes to Sara begging for forgiveness. Despite everything she’d done and everything she suffered, Sara survived whereas L*urel was crippled by her pain. These two women found their way out of the dark together. Sara’s forgiveness put L*urel on a path to sobriety. L*urel’s forgiveness put Sara on a path to heroism. Neither of them truly deserved forgiveness for what they had done, but that’s not the point of forgiveness is it?

It was L*urel’s love, not Oliver’s that gave Sara the second chance she needed. Maybe Sara didn’t deserve forgiveness when L*urel gave it, but it sparked the beginning of her journey towards someone who did. Sara is the Original Canary, the captain of a time traveling superhero squad and the one and ONLY White Canary. She offers the wisdom of her life experience to help Bl*ck S*ren.

Source: canarygifs

She also calls Bl*ck S*ren out on her bullshit. She tried to be a hero for six months. TRYING? SIX MONTHS? She thinks that evens the score for years and years of mayhem, theft and murder?

We’re supposed to feel sorry for BS after she’s spent six months living in a comfortable apartment and getting paid well to do a job she didn’t earn.

Great, she helped Oliver out of prison. She also tried to kill him multiple times, so they aren’t exactly equal yet. When Sara tried to quit the murder business a lethal team of assassins came after her and she had to commit suicide to get them to leave her alone. But L*urel knows the horror of the Balmain double breasted, wool blend jacket. Poor baby.

I forgot she was accused of working with Diaz and lost her job. Yeah, except she did work with Diaz and SHE IS NOT A LAWYER SO SHE SHOULD LOSE HER JOB.

Then there’s being falsely accused of Diaz’s murder. Hmmm… who killed Vinnie again? L*urel being falsely accused of ONE murder compared to the multiple homicides she has committed and has yet to pay for in any real or substantial way does not equate. Yet, here she is with a stick up her ass and expecting everyone to feel sorry for her. You know, I take it back. She really is like E1 L*urel sometimes.

Sara explains what real redemption is and it is my favorite line of the episode.

Source: canarygifs

She’s right. Redemption is not a light switch that can be flipped on. L*urel can’t do a couple nice things and say, “TA DA! I AM REDEEMED!” It’s not how it works. There’s no endgame here. This is something L*urel needs work at for the rest of her life. She needs to fight every day to be a person worthy of forgiveness. When L*urel falls down, or life doesn’t go her way, she can’t throw an evil temper tantrum.

A real hero isn’t looking for a reward. A real hero doesn’t look for someone else to blame. A real hero doesn’t keep score. A real hero sacrifices and fights the good fight because it is the right thing to do. Does Bl*ck S*ren qualify?

No. She is not a hero yet. She is undeserving of the love, compassion and forgiveness Sara and Felicity are offering her.

But we all are undeserving of forgiveness. We are all broken in some way. We all do or say hurtful things. Each of us will either do something unforgivable or feel like we’ve done something unforgivable. What makes the difference in our life is having someone who loves us despite our sins.

We can see the people who have been loved when they are unlovable and those who have not when we look at the landscape of humanity. Sometimes we need a push in the right direction when we are at a crossroads, but not all of us have someone in our life who loves us enough to give one. The ones who do are blessed.

Bl*ck S*ren’s sins are deeply evil. She has dug herself a very large, dark hole. L*urel stopped Felicity from falling down the same hole because she knows there’s nothing but pain, emptiness and loneliness at the bottom. She knows how to stop someone from falling in, but L*urel does not know how to climb out. Bl*ck S*ren is stuck in a self destructive cycle. Felicity fundamentally believes every human being is redeemable if they want redemption, but some need more of a push than others.

The truth is we all need help out of the darkness. We all need someone to love us unconditionally. We all need someone reach down into the hole and offer a hand. But our redemption remains in our hands. It’s not enough for someone to reach out. We have to reach back.

All the evil hijinks boil down to a faceoff with Bl*ck S*ren and Felicity. Felicity tells BS one last time she believes in her, but ultimately it’s not about what she believes. It’s not about L*urel L*ance’s legacy or who Quentin wanted BS to be. This is about who Bl*ck S*ren wants to be. Free will my friends. It is a bitch.

COME ON! Nobody is killing Felicity Smoak least of all Bl*ck S*ren. L*urel is picking out china patterns in her head, so she ain’t killin’ bae. She joins Felicity and the rest of the birds and together they defeat the villain of the week. Sorry I really didn’t pay much attention to the partner.

Source: smoaktechs

In their victory celebration, Dinah decides not to arrest Bl*ck S*ren and even comes up with a get out of jail free card excuse aka “working undercover.” A relieved Felicity tells L*urel that everything can go back to normal.

But L*urel disagrees. It is time to stop running. It is time to stop pretending to be someone she’s not. It’s time to go back to Earth 2. She has to made amends in the place where she created so much pain. I. AM. SCREAMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

No, it’s not a stint in the pokey, but I WILL TAKE IT. Going back to Earth 2 is the next best thing. It addresses my primary problem with L*urel’s redemptive arc and that is pretending to be someone she’s not. Being Earth 1 L*urel L*ance protected Bl*ck S*ren from all the damage she caused on Earth 2. If she really wants a shot at redemption then she has to go back to the place where everyone knows her as Bl*ck S*ren. Earth 2 is where L*urel will be forced to confront everything she’s done and accept responsibility for it. There’s no hiding, running or easy outs on Earth 2. That is the place where an honest redemptive arc can begin.

Felicity understands and gives her a parting gift – E1 L*urel’s Bl*ck C*nary suit.

Source: nyssaalghl

It’s a beautiful full circle moment. I don’t make the rules! Felicity anoints the superheroes, assigns the names and hands out the couture! If she says L*urel should be Bl*ck C*nary on Earth 2 then L*urel is going to be Bl*ck C*nary on Earth 2. Fine with me!

L*urel meets Sara once more at Quentin’s grave. Her story always comes back to Sara no matter what version of L*urel it is. Felicity was the push, but Sara’s words lit the spark. She launched L*urel L*ance’s hero’s journey once again. Cuz see the light?!!!!

Source: canarygifs

This scene also feels like a goodbye to the Lance family. Quentin is gone, L*urel is dead, Sara is off hero-ing through time, and Bl*ck S*ren is returning to Earth 2. This isn’t the end of L*urel’s redemptive journey. It’s the beginning. But it is the first time I believe she might deserve it someday.

Source: nyssaalghl

FLASH FORWARD TIME!

Dinah created the Canary Network to be a support system for women, so someone always had their back. It’s a reminder to Dinah of what she failed to give Bl*ck S*ren once. It’s a whole conglomerate of leather clad ladies supporting ladies! LOOOOOOVE IT!

There is no singular Bl*ck C*nary. No one woman holds the title. It fulfills L*urel L*ance’s dying wish in a way she couldn’t even imagine at the time, which is why it is so fitting.

Unfortunately, Galaxy One massacres the network in “Lost Canary” and Dinah loses fifteen of her girls. It’s a devastating loss for Dinah, but I couldn’t help but cackle a little. Arrow never misses an opportunity to throw a little petty at the LL fandom. Oh you’re made we killed once Bl*ck C*nary? Watch us kill fifteen! How do you like them apples?!

Dinah, Felicity and Zoe want to lay low and regroup after such a big hit, but Mia is fired up and ready for pay back.

Source: amunetblack

Dinah tries to convince her to wait for the surviving canaries to fight back when the time is right, but Mia defiantly says...

Source: amunetblack

It’s like they tailor made her for us fandom. Mia Smoak is perfection on every level.

Dinah calls in some back up to keep an eye on Mia.

L*urel.

She saves Mia from some Galaxy One goons. Unfortunately, the horror show of a wig is back, but let us pray there are less buckles on the suit. The lipstick has changed from black to red so serious upgrade in that department.

Source: dcmultiverse

It’s a beautifully symbolic moment because L*urel saves Mia in an alley where a body of a dead canary is lying. It’s the same kind of alley where Sara fell to her death and launched L*urel’s Bl*ck C*nary journey.

It’s the same kind of alley where L*urel’s journey was foreshadowed in the pilot,

but with a significant change. L*urel is no longer connected to the man in the story, but to the women. Sara, L*urel, Felicity, Dinah, Bl*ck S*ren, Zoe and Mia all weave together in one beautiful thread. Bl*ck C*nary no longer belongs to one woman. It belongs to all of them.

The beauty of this is I don’t have to sit through another half baked Bl*ck C*nary storyline for L*urel. I trust she’s earned the suit on E2. Even better she’s still Bl*ck S*ren. This isn’t 2.0 of E1 L*urel L*nce. Hopefully, all the snarky wit, aptitude for zingers and glowering that made me fall in love with BS remains. I just needed her to stop murdering people. That’s all. All of this means I might finally have a version of L*urel L*nce that I can enjoy.

L*urel gives Mia some wisdom that screams THERE IS GOING TO BE A SPIN OFF,

but what I loved most is L*urel is still trying every day to prove she is a hero.

Redemption is a journey and not a destination. And undeserved forgiveness is often the beginning of that journey. Nobody knows that better than L*urel L*ance.

Stray Thoughts

#Fact. Source: felicitysmoakgifs

Bl*ck S*ren pretending to be L*urel acts somewhat normal. She ratchets up the cheese factor when she's Bl*ck S*ren. I forgot about that.

Emily is having an A+ hair season. Really it's like a Vidal Sassoon commercial every week.

This made me emotional. Source: olicitygifs

"Let's just call her a genius and leave it at that." Hubby is so proud of bae.

Bl*ck S*ren versus White Canary is like a heavy weight boxer fighting a chipmunk.

Felicity and Sara flirting is everything I didn’t know I need. The love triangle was centered on the wrong person in Season 2. It should have been Felicity and not Oliver. Source: ebett

Yup. We all knew. Source: felicitysmoakgifs

“Felicity Smoak is killing people now." Sara is my spirit animal.

Sara has seniority Dinah. It should've been you sitting it out. Respect your elder. Source: canarygifs

The great evil of this episode is the grommet sweater. We must protect the actresses from this atrocity because it's spreading.

This was cute. Source: hollandrooden

Sara has a baby on Earth 2? I NEED THE NAME. WHERE ARE PICTURES?

Don’t tell me L*urel is not in love with Felicity. I know my truth. Source: hollandrooden

Spit my drink out when Sara said this because it’s ridiculous. That said, Arrow continually painting Laurel as a saint is a constant reminder they are never bringing her back. the more Arrow paints Laurel as saint. Source: danverskara

Was it snowing in the future? What was up with the weather?

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me. 7x18 gifs credited.

The *** in names is so the review doesn’t show up in the tag.

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

#arrow #arrow 7x18 #arrow reviews #olicity #felicity smoak #anti laurel lance #anti black siren #anti black canary #sara lance #anti dinah drake #arrow season 7 #arrow spoilers #arrow season 7 reviews #arrow season 7 review #season 7 episode review #season 7 episode reviews

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falseroar · 6 years ago

Text

Dark Laughter Part 3: Mirror Images

((Here’s a link to Part 2: I’m Trying and a link to the beginning of the series, Part 1: What Dark Saw.))

Dark spent over an hour pacing the third floor of the house, examining every inch of the hall where he thought—where he knew he saw you earlier, allowing his aura to stretch and expand in search of something, anything, to prove that he was right.

But there was nothing, no sense of anything off or out of the ordinary.

In response to his anger, the lights overhead flickered and hummed, any illumination they provided already struggling to do any more than highlight the oppressive darkness that hung heavy in the air for several feet around him.

Dark closed his eyes and breathed out, allowing his aura to recede and the normal colors of the hallway to return.

This was pointless and getting him nowhere. He would get his answers eventually, but not like this. To start, he needed to get away from this area and clear his head.

Dark made his way down the stairs to the second floor, where bedroom doors lined the hall to either side. Most of the rooms were silent and dark at this hour of the night, although Ed Edgar’s snores could be heard long before Dark passed the ego’s room. Blue light came out from beneath a door plastered with stickers of various memes and brand names, Bing no doubt playing whatever battle royale game had caught his attention this week. Dark thought he heard sniffling from behind one of the doors that had yet to be decorated, but when he paused there the noise stopped.

Aside from these small things, the house was relatively quiet, and there was no one to stop Dark on his way to his office, or to interrupt him with some pointless question or remark. It was his own restless thoughts that made him pause at the door, one hand on the doorknob, before continuing on down the hall to the stairs at the other end. Downstairs, Dark saw a single light on in the infirmary and heard the doctor tapping away at his keyboard. In the living room he spotted an ego sprawled out on the couch, their face covered by a book but the suit and cape giving away Silver Shepherd’s identity. His mask lay on the cushion beside him, and Dark briefly considered it before deciding to give the opportunity a pass.

Instead, he made his way to the kitchen, where the only light came from the small bulb above the sink. Soft breathing came from the pantry door in the corner, where Chef Iplier was known to keep a cot despite the ample number of bedrooms upstairs. No one questioned him on that, or anything else the ego was known or suspected to do when left alone here in his domain.

Dark peered out the back window, but the distant forest line was just a suggestion at this time of night. Somewhere out there the King of the Squirrels kept a nest or a tree fort or some kind of hideaway that no one else had been able to find, where he spent most of his nights unless the weather became particularly bad. The last time that happened, Dr. Iplier had taken advantage of the opportunity to, with the combined effort of Google and some of the stronger egos such as Silver Shepherd, “convince” the King to take a rare bath. For their effort, they all earned several scratches and bites, and somehow despite the massive amounts of flea and tick shampoo, the King still came out smelling vaguely of peanuts.

Dark smiled to himself at the memory as he left the kitchen, feeling…more in control of his emotions, at least. Perhaps, and it dealt a severe blow to his pride to admit even in the privacy of his own mind, perhaps the Host and Google were right to dismiss his concerns. What he saw in the hall couldn’t have been real—you were safe and asleep miles away. He told himself that maybe it was a trick of memory or—

Something moved to Dark’s left and he spun around before realizing that he was looking at the wide mirror hanging on the wall. It was a replacement for the one you had broken when you “arrived” last year, but in a rare moment of self-interest, the Host had asked that it not be put back in the same place. He hadn’t explained why, and for several months after he had still gone out of his way to avoid that stretch of hall near the conference room.

Now it hung here on the ground floor, where it made this area a little lighter and provided the egos a chance to check themselves out and make any last-minute adjustments before leaving or joining the others for a meal.

In the relative darkness of the hallway, it took Dark a half second to realize just how wrong the reflection was. There was a door behind him, yes, but it did not have the same shape and make as the front door of the ego house. Black and white checkered tiles in the mirror did not match the flooring behind him, and there was certainly no staircase to his right twisting up and out of sight.

And, more importantly, it was not his own reflection that stared back out at him.

You stood opposite him, your reflection just as he had seen it at the end of the hall earlier: head tilted at a wrong angle, blood staining old clothes he hadn’t seen in over a year, but for a split second he could clearly see your face.

Until a bloodied hand slammed against the other side of the glass.

Dark cried out and backed away, but it was his own reflection looking back at him from the mirror, face pale as he let his outstretched hand drop to his side where it trembled until he gripped it with his other hand. His mirror image betrayed the horror that flashed through his eyes, but he did not see what it turned into when he spun around at the sound from down the hall.

“Who’s there?” Dark asked.

Silence met his question, and continued until he almost doubted what he had heard.

Almost.

Dark did not bother with the stairs, choosing instead to disappear into his aura.

In the empty hallway, something stirred in the mirror and, from a distance, the laugh Dark heard repeated itself, mocking now.

---

The Host leaned close to the microphone, speaking low and soft in the complete confidence that it caught every word that flowed through him and swept up his listeners in their wake. And, for one very special listener, was more than just a story.

Tonight, it was his reality.

“—He fumbles with the handle, aware of the footsteps coming ever closer. If this key doesn’t work, there are no second chances for our dear Phillip. After all, we all know second chances are far too kind for what he has done. No, there is only the creature, the manifestation of his wrongs, drawn by the smell of fear that clouds his judgment, creeping ever nearer with every precious second he wastes praying that he chose correctly, it more than ready to—”

The Host paused, aware of the sudden change in the atmosphere of his recording studio. His smile of pleasure quickly turned into a thin-lipped frown, but he recovered quickly and continued, “No, the key fits, the door unlocks, and Phillip is stumbling out into the cold night air, free of the warehouse. He slams the door behind him, but nothing follows. Listeners, let’s leave Phillip alone to his thoughts, to consider what he’s learned this night. He will have more than enough time walking the long miles back into town, assuming he remembers the correct way to go. He is so given to ‘forgetting,’ after all. And I will leave you now, until next time. Good night, my dearest listeners.”

The Host smiled at those last words out of habit, but as he turned off the equipment and removed his headphones to be greeted by a terrible ringing sound, that expression soured.

“The Host is aware that his ‘On Air’ light is still on.”

“You left the door unlocked,” Dark answered.

“Because the Host is aware that Wilford planned to drop by, and he has grown tired of replacing the lock on that door. The Host is also aware that Darkiplier did not use the door, so the point is moot.”

“Then if you’re so aware of everything, you should know why I’m here.” Dark heard his ringing hit a new a pitch and tried to reign his aura in before it damaged the sensitive equipment that filled the studio. A courtesy he hardly thought the ego deserved, but one he attempted all the same.

“The Host is not omniscient,” he answered, but his lips moved briefly before he spoke up again. “Darkiplier saw something again?”

“I saw them, I saw Y/N,” Dark said. “In the mirror, downstairs, and just like before they were—something was wrong with them.”

“The Host has told Darkiplier, Y/N is at Mark’s house, there’s nothing wrong—”

“I know, I called, but that doesn’t change what I saw. I want you to look back, right now, and tell me what happened with your narration.”

“Darkiplier does not give the Host orders, not anymore.”

“I’m asking,” Dark said, baring his teeth at the word. “Host, this is for Y/N—”

“And since when has Darkiplier cared about Y/N?” Bitterness coursed through the Host’s words but it quickly turned to a quiet fury as he said, “Darkiplier has the audacity to be offended by the Host’s words, as if he has not constantly tried to use Y/N for his own benefit, from attempting to take advantage of their visions to nearly getting them destroyed in a vain attempt to save himself—”

“That was Anti—”

“Who you made a deal with in the first place just to get closer to Y/N! You possessed them to try and kill the Host!”

“Please. You and I both know you egos are harder to kill than that. You should know that more than anyone here, Author.”

The Host reached up, his fingertips brushing against the bandages around his eyes. “The Host is aware that just because we can survive something, it doesn’t mean there aren’t scars left behind. And he has seen so many of the scars that Darkiplier has left upon Y/N.”

“What are you talking about? I never—”

“How many years, trapped in that mirror?” The Host asked aloud. “How long left alone in that house? How many more, left as a splintered and broken echo of themselves? How many sleepless nights since then, how many nightmares? How many memories locked away because of the pain? How deep is the scar left by the face of a friend used to betray them, to take away their very body, only to have it happen again? Darkiplier, of all people, should know what that violation of Y/N’s person meant when he used them, and all just for a single act of spite.”

Dark’s aura was silent as it pressed in tight around him, leaving him almost monochromatic as he let those words sink in. His voice was low, controlled, and restrained as he said, “Do you feel proud of yourself, after that little speech? The righteous and put-upon Host, defending his little brothers, defending Y/N from the big bad Darkiplier? As if your hands are clean.”

Dark paced around the recording studio, taking in the equipment as he said, “Such a shame Y/N has never been able to catch your little show, isn’t it? I wonder how they would feel, knowing how you twist your words around your latest ‘characters’, hearing that love of control in your voice as you play with them for your dear listeners. You know it’s funny, that tone you have when you tell a story, from the very first book of the Author’s that I read, I always felt like there was more of me in you than Mark. You used to be my favorite, but I’m sure you knew that.”

“The Host is nothing like Darkiplier.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Dark said with a shrug as he played with one of the dials on a speaker. “But either way, I respect you, Host, and your abilities. That’s why I’ll ask again: what was that thing in the hallway, if it wasn’t Y/N?”

“Earlier, Darkiplier stood alone in the hallway, brooding over his loss of control over the egos.” The Host smirked and continued, “As he walked down the hallway, he looked up and saw…”

The Host frowned and tilted his head. “The Host cannot read what was there. Darkiplier saw something in the mirror later, but again the Host cannot read anything except that Dark was alone with his fear. He…was afraid. He is afraid.”

Dark grasped his hand with the other to still the tremors that ran up and down it as he said, “Your narration is failing you, Host. I wasn’t the only one there, it looked like Y/N, but—”

“But it couldn’t have been them,” the Host finished for him. “Darkiplier appears tired. How long has it been since he slept?”

Dark scowled. “I don’t see how that matters.”

“The Host might think it were Dark’s own guilt playing tricks on his mind, if he were capable of feeling such a thing.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Does Dark ask if the Host means he is incapable of feeling guilt, or expressing the belief that he should have nothing to feel remorse for?”

Dark would not have dignified that with an answer, if he hadn’t heard the small, humorless chuckle that came from the Host. He was laughing at him?

“I know what I’ve done, and I don’t regret a single thing. You never had a problem with it before, when I was the only one looking out for you and the other useless copies. How many of you wouldn’t even be here today if it weren’t for me, making sure his precious fans remembered you?”

“Because it gave Darkiplier pleasure, to be in control. To have so many ‘copies’ of the man he hated dependent on him, in fear of him. Now he cannot accept the fact that the egos no longer need him to survive. How does it feel, to be so powerless and alone, Darkiplier?”

“I am far from powerless,” Dark answered, allowing his aura to seep out from around him and wrap around the ego seated in his chair. Dull, distant creaks came from within as the recording studio became a distant echo of the dark reality stretching around them. “But I’d be more than happy to gag that mouth of yours and let you find out what true helplessness feels like.”

He tilted his head and with a crack of his neck the darkness retreated, leaving the normal studio in its wake. Dark leaned on the desk that separated him from the Host and smiled down at him, but there was no humor in his eyes as he said, “If only Wilford had shot you in the mouth instead.”

The Host rose to his feet, hands planted on the desk as he leaned forward, bandaged eyes meeting Dark’s own as his face twisted with fury.

“Darkiplier shuts his mouth, because the Host is sick and tired of listening to him.”

Dark tried to speak, but his lips refused to part.

“Whatever is haunting Darkiplier, the Host does not care but is sure that he deserves it. He has done enough to hurt the people of this house for his own selfish reasons, and no ego will help him relieve his own guilt and fear, not anymore. Darkiplier turns away from the Host’s desk and walks out of the studio. He does not return.”

Dark felt his body move without input from his brain, turning and walking out the door just as the Host narrated. The second the door shut behind him he felt the release of the Host’s power, only for it to be replaced by sheer rage.

Every sleeping ego in the house was startled into wakefulness by the terrible ringing and indistinguishable voices that escaped from Dark’s aura until he turned and walked into his own darkness. Once he disappeared, the noise gave way to an uneasy silence as the others waited to see if anything would follow.

((End of Part 3. Thank you for reading! And for the record, Phillip absolutely deserved it. Probably. Either way, hitchhiking in the middle of the night on a little-used back road is definitely not recommended for so many reasons, but he’ll figure that out for himself.

Here’s the link to the next part, Part 4: Be Good to Yourself!

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @purpstraw @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate ))

#markiplier #fanfic #wkm y/n #Darkiplier #The Host #Two so alike yet not #Oh how the Host and Dark fought #Anger blinds and fear controls #At stake an attorney's souls

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tertiaryembarrassment · 6 years ago

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Unexpected (Pt.3) - Paul Lahote x Reader

part 3 ringing in at 2,334 words long and I have no intention of stopping lmao thank you for coming on this journey with me so far

warnings: language

part 1

part 2

You’re sitting at the kitchen table in a house you’ve never been before, somewhere on La Push’s reservation. Emily sits across from you, resting her head on a hand as she sips quietly from a steaming mug. That’s the first thing she did when you arrived at the house you assumed was hers – neither of you had said anything since the car ride here, so, at the moment, you weren’t even certain where you were – readied a pot of coffee for the two of you. She’d set a matching mug in front of you, and you curled your fingers around it, thankful for the warmth. You didn’t mention your general distain for coffee. It’s bitterness never suited you.

While the two of you don’t exchange words, your mind replay’s the night’s events again and again, a series of incomprehensible happenings that seemed to make perfect sense to everyone except you. Even now, eyeing Emily from across the table, she seems uncomfortable, but not shaken. Not like you. The pit inside your stomach has taken over now, consumed your whole body as every inch of you pulses with anxiety. You search for something to focus on – anything that could help this make sense – and settle on categorizing your questions mentally.

First, what happened to Leah? It was difficult to see from the place in the sand Sam had pinned you, but it almost looked like Leah became the creature. Since that’s not possible, it must have been the next most likely explanation: you didn’t see it, but the wolf somehow bulldozed over Leah in order to attack Paul. And if that’s true? Leah must be…

You close your eyes and shake that thought from your head. Leah is okay. She has to be.

Next, what were those creatures? Obviously, they looked like wolves, but they were far too big, far too strong, to be any species native to Forks. There are tons of ancient tales detailing wolf-like creatures – direwolves, wulvers, waheela, the Black Shuck – but none that would explain what you saw on the beach. Most of them weren’t even supposed to be real. To think that those tales might be true, you shudder at the thought of what else might be out there.

Also, why are you the only one who seems to care that your party was just attacked by wolfish monsters? Emily sits so coolly, sipping her drink silently. Most of the people on the beach didn’t even run – they just stood back, as if supernatural wolf attacks were something they saw daily. You watched Emily’s fiancé walk right into the thick of that fight, and yet she doesn’t even seem to worry for him. Sam seemed like a strong man, he was tall and well built, but certainly not a match for animals like that, no human would be. Why wouldn’t he have driven away with you?

Finally, you settle on one last question. Why am I still here? By now, you’ve had ample opportunity to run. You eye the front door, just past Emily across the table. You could walk right out, call a cab, call a friend, call… someone, and never think about this again. You don’t need this, these strange secrets and terrible monsters and odd circumstances…

But you know you can’t do that. While your brain calls for you to take the safest option, there is another part of you, a stronger part, a deep instinct, that needs to know. Needs an explanation for the fantastic, terrible things you saw tonight. Maybe all those years with your nose stuck in a mythology book weren’t so wasted after all.

You’re mulling over the questions in your head when the front doors swings open and Sam’s body fills the frame. He’s shirtless, wearing a new pair of shorts, and sweating profusely. You jump at the sudden movement in the silent room and have to juggle your still-full mug for a moment to avoid spilling the drink inside. Emily is immediately on her feet, meeting the man at the door, wrapping him in her arms.

Okay. Maybe she was a little worried, you concede.

Sam returns her embrace, wrapping a strong arm around her thin frame and planting a kiss on the top of her head. You avert your gaze, examining the wall for a moment, suddenly feeling like an intruder on an intimate moment. They unwind themselves from one another after a beat, but she keeps a hand firmly wrapped around his bicep, as if worried if she let go he might float away.

You’re not sure what to say, but you’re opening your mouth to greet Sam in the most normal way one can after the night you just had, when you realize he didn’t come alone. In fact, as he moves deeper inward the house, vacating the open door, it looks almost as if he brought the whole party with him, as several young men filter into the house, giving tight-lipped smiles and curt nods in your direction.

You name them as they walk past you, recalling their names from your introductions earlier that night – Jared, Jacob, Embry, Seth, Quil, Brady, Collin…

And then Paul’s walking through the door, one hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously as his eyes survey the ground. Stepping into the room, he tears his gaze from the floor and sets it instead on you, watching you with such intensity you feel like it’s the first time anyone’s every really looked at you. He walks past your spot at the table to join the boys behind you, but even without seeing him you feel his eyes boring into the back of your head.

You’re tapping your fingernails eagerly against the side of your mug, looking unblinkingly at the open door into the night. There’s the chirp of grasshoppers and frogs and a distant whirr of a car engine, but no more footsteps. You open your mouth to speak your first words since the long car ride here, “Where’s Leah?”

You don’t turn around, but you hear Seth step closer to you, breaking away from the group of boys. “She’s okay, Y/N. She went home, she’s pretty mad.”

Craning your neck in your chair to face the boy who addressed you, you’re met with nine faces of tired, sweaty young men you now note are all without shirts, all having seemingly changed clothes since the last time you saw them, just over an hour ago. Some look at you with concern or sympathy, others have taken to the living room, spreading out on the couches and on the carpeted floor.

You chew on your lip, studying the men before you. While your concern for Leah is still your top priority, Seth’s voice seems genuine in his reassurance of her safety. He’s her brother, and you don’t think he would lie to you… and that voice in your head, the one that’s longing for answers, to understand something new about the world you’d never guessed could exist is getting louder, winning out over your rational brain. A split-second decision, and suddenly you’re turning your chair around to face the rest of the room without craning your neck.

“Somebody start talking,” you command, staring pointedly from face to face in the full house.

Most heads turn toward Paul, whose eyes are still fixated on you. You try to meet his gaze, but his eyes are so intense, searching, you can’t hold it long. You let your eyes fall instead on Sam, who is leaning against the couch, face set in a concerned frown, thick brows casting shadows over his dark eyes.

“Emily mentioned to you the history of the Quileutes – you know nothing about us?” He questions.

You shake your head. “Nothing. Start at the beginning.”

Sam lets out a long breath and looks to Paul, motioning for him to continue. Paul returns his look, confusion and something like dread spreading across his face. Taking in a large gulp of air, Paul pushes himself off the back of the couch and takes a place at the table next to you. You follow him with your eyes as he sits, resting his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

“The Quileutes are supposedly descended from… wolves.” He says, a nervous hand returning to rub the back of his neck. He peers up at you from under his brows, eyes darting nervously around the room, falling anywhere but you. “Many of our people are said to have the blood of wolves running through their veins – it’s against tribal law to kill them.”

You feel yourself nodding, hearing his words but still needing a moment to process them. It’s not so strange for a culture to consider themselves related to animals in some way – you’ve read about this sort of thing thousands of times – but you’ve never been confronted with it in the modern day. You steady your breathing best you can and nod at Paul, encouraging him silently to go on.

“Even before wolves entered the Quileute bloodline, we had… abilities. The first were called the Spirit Warriors. They had all sorts of powers – they could leave their bodies and enter the spirit realm, and manipulate nature and animals this way. They used their powers to protect the tribe and their people, and it’s why we’ve survived as long as we have,” he’s hesitating, you can tell, searching for the words to tell this story in a way that won’t make him sound insane. You lean in closer, urging him once again not to stop. You need to know.

“That’s when the wolves come in. A powerful Spirit Warrior by the name of Taha Aki was once trapped in the spirit realm by a power-hungry usurper, Utlapa, who stole Taha Aki’s body and killed his own to masquerade as the Spirit Chief,” for once, Paul looks up at you and lets out a soft laugh. You didn’t notice, but you were leaning in so close, eyes wide, drinking in the story he was telling you. You feel your cheeks reddening at his laughter, leaning back sheepishly in your chair. Immediately, his face softens with regret. “I didn’t mean to-”

You shake your head. “It’s fine,” you assure him, “keep going.”

He returned to his story, this time, engaging you directly. “Utlapa ordered the Spirit Warriors to stop using their powers, knowing that if they left their bodies they would find Taha Aki in the spirit world and know of his deception. Taha Aki couldn’t let Utlapa take advantage of the tribe, so he tied his spirit to the body of a wolf in order to contact his people. At first, they were afraid of him, but when the heard the creature singing their tribal songs, they knew he must have been sent by the spirits.” There’s a pause. With a glance around the room, you become acutely aware of the silence around you, every eye settled on the two of you, every ear listening intently to Paul’s recounting of the legend. He seems to notice as well, laughing nervously at his friends, hoping he’s getting the details right.

“One of the warriors, Yut, disobeyed Utlapa’s orders and left his body, immediately discovering the truth of Taha Aki’s whereabouts. Utlapa killed Yut in a rage, which lit a fire of rage inside of Taha Aki, who transformed from wolf to man in front of the whole tribe. The usurper tried to run, but Taha Aki had the strength of a wolf and killed him there. It was said that after that the tribe was allowed to return to normal, and Taha Aki had many sons. Sons that were… like us.”

A wave of quiet pride sweeps across the room. You turn your head to address the boys behind you, who have all settled into their seats and were listening to Paul’s words with attention. “What are you, then?” You ask quietly, both afraid and excited by the answer.

Paul breathes in silence for a moment, as if hoping one of the others would finish the story for them. No one does. “Shapeshifters,” he says finally.

A cackle flies past your lips, so quick you can’t subdue it for politeness’s sake. You slap a hand over your mouth, cursing yourself silently – but what do they expect? “Shapeshifters? Shapeshifters?” You’re rising from your chair, swinging around to face everyone in the room. “I’m sorry, you’ve all been very kind but if you expect me to believe that you’re all some sort of ancient lycanthropes reincarnated, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.” You’re silent for a beat, surveying the faces around you. To your surprise, there are no sly smiles or giggles from the boys – you were expecting sure indications that this is all a silly, unfunny prank on the new girl. But they’re all silent, staring with serious expressions, shifting from you to Paul and back again. “This is crazy. I can’t do this.”

You’re heading for the door, thanking Emily in breathy tones for the coffee and the ride home, simultaneously wondering how you plan on getting back to Forks without a car, when Paul leaps from his chair and blocks the way with his massive frame. He’s looking at you directly, so intense he almost seems physically pained. He rests a hand on your arm, his touch a welcome warmth. “Please stay,” he says. “We can prove it.” A hopeful glace to the rest of the boys earns him nods of solidarity, agreement rushing from their lips.

A groan, closed eyes and fingers connecting with temples, rubbing small circles around them, banishing the headache you can feel forming. Shit. Are we doing this? Shit. You think, open palms turning into fists as you consider the possibilities. But then you see Paul again, and his eyes are so pleading, soft and kind and hopeful, and you feel something inside you melting. Lips pressed into a stern line, you address the room. “Alright. Show me.”

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight imagine #uley pack #uley pack imagine #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote imagine #sam uley #seth clearwater #leah clearwater #embry call #jacob black #jared cameron #wolf pack #wolf pack imagine

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nikanndros · 6 years ago

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The Arranged Marriage AU Part 18 [Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17]

The cell Laurent is put in is made of rough stone and barred walls, and it is in general not a very nice place to be. Damen had wanted to lock Kastor and Laurent away to their rooms, but Laurent had insisted it be the cells beneath the palace. Damen cannot look weak just because his alleged traitors are people he loves. Or loved. Laurent is not so sure what the expression on Damen’s face had meant.

A loud clanging of the main door opening and closing rings out through the cells, the sound of footsteps immediately following it. Laurent looks through the bars and waits until the visitor stops outside his cell. Even in the dim lighting, he can make out Nikandros’ form. His straight backed silhouette is intimately familiar to Laurent.

“Nik,” Laurent says, quietly. He stands and moves closer to the bars, to see him clearer, but Nik takes a step back. Laurent stops. He isn’t entirely sure of the time, but it has taken at least a few hours for Nikandros to come here.

“I wanted answers,” he replies. He sounds weary, of course he does.

“I won’t lie to you,” Laurent promises, despite how little good it will surely do.

Nikandros purses his lips. “You barely even tried to defend yourself, when that Veretian was slinging accusations at you. What am I to think of that?”

“I didn’t want to try until I heard all that he had against me,” Laurent shrugs, pretends that he isn’t overly concerned. “Damen was quicker to lock me up then I thought he would be.”

Nik’s fists keep clenching, his gaze is hard. Laurent hasn’t seen him truly angry before this moment. “Did you kill him?” Nikandros hisses.

“Be more specific,” Laurent replies. “There were a lot of accusations today.”

“I am not in the mood for this.”

Laurent sighs. “My uncle? Yes. Theomedes? No.”

“Were you colluding with Kastor?”

“No,” Laurent says. “Of course not. The only time I have spoken to him is when you happened upon us, and that was coincidence.”

“I told you I didn’t trust him, and then I caught you seeking him out in the gardens alone.”

Kastor makes an insulted noise from a cell over. “You warned him against me? I cut your hair once and we were children.”

“No,” Nikandros barely spares Kastor a glance. “Damen and I were children. Just like we were when you stabbed Damen in his first duel with a real blade.”

“The way he was swinging that knife around in excitement,” Kastor argues, “it’s a miracle he was only wounded.”

“You stabbed him?” Laurent asks, horrified.

“He walked it off.” Kastor waves a hand dismissively.

“Laurent,” Nikandros insists. “You went hunting with me in Delpha. Why did you pretend you didn’t want to when King Theomedes invited you? And then you happened to be alone, unmonitored when he was killed.”

“I am not so powerful that I can cause a hunting accident, although thank you for your faith in my abilities, husband.”

“Don’t call me that,” Nikandros snaps. He looks shocked at his own words then, and takes another step back.

Laurent doesn’t know what his own expression is doing, he just knows that there is an awful feeling in his chest, and it must be bad because Nikandros looks away from him.

“These accusations don’t make sense,” Laurent tries, quietly. “If I had wanted Damen dead, I’ve had ample opportunities. He would be dead. I could have poured poison into your evening wine and you would have both died together. I wouldn’t have needed to conspire with anyone.”

Nikandros nods. “There was a vial found in your rooms, and we have a poison master who swears he sold it to you. He says he didn’t know who you were but his description of you was very convincing.”

Laurent tries to take heart in the fact that Nikandros is bringing these things to Laurent now, rather than just assuming that he is guilty. “He is lying. Ask people around his shop if they saw me as well. Chauvin gave me the vial,” Laurent replies. “If you test the contents, you’ll find that I tipped the poison out and replaced it with water. I only kept the container in case I needed to make a ruse with it later to draw him out.”

Nikandros is quiet for a very long moment. “For what reason,” he says, finally, “could Chauvin have to frame you like this?”

“He is answering orders.”

“You accuse your father then?”

“I cannot,” Laurent replies. He presses himself against the bars, urgent for Nikandros’ complete attention. “Listen to me, Nikandros. If I accuse my father then there will be war. If there is war then Damen will ride out against my brother, and no matter who wins that battle - I will lose. I refuse to risk either of their lives. I cannot accuse my father or defend myself.”

“Your father doesn’t want war,” Nikandros sighs. “He didn’t give us Delpha and marry you to me only to make us go to war anyway.”

“He’ll have Damen murdered first, and strike while Akielos is unstable. Kastor won’t be a suitable heir after this, and I’ve been put away from where I can help.”

Nikandros sighs again. He looks so tired that it is almost painful to gaze at him. Between rushing to return to the capital and then getting involved in these accusations, he must have barely had a moments rest. “This story that you’re weaving is so fantastical,” he says. “I can barely stand it. Your father hates you because you murdered your uncle, so he sent you here to spy and then tried to get all of us killed so that he can have a war that he has no guarantees he’ll win.”

Laurent shakes his head. “My father has always wanted this war between our countries. I didn’t know it at the time by my uncle was something of a spymaster. Apparently, he had the secret connections and information we needed to beat you on the field. When I killed him, I lost us our greatest advantage. That is why my father hates me. That’s why he sent me here, and why he doesn’t mind letting me die now that he knows I will not obey him.”

“So, that is your father’s plot.”

“It is. It’s why I’ve been ignoring his letters: I refuse to do his bidding. All he wants is to hurt you.”

Nikandros is massaging his temple with one hand. Laurent is used to the gesture, he tends to inspire migraines in people. “I’m supposed to believe - what? That the moment you married me your loyalties changed away from your family?”

“I have no love left for my father,” Laurent says. “I would do anything for my mother and Auguste but they would not ask it of me.”

“So you did nothing Aleron asked of you? Other than that first report you sent.”

Laurent pauses. He has promised honesty. “Nothing I wouldn’t have done anyway.”

Nikandros is perceptive. “Did you want us or was that all just your father’s orders?” he asks, in an even tone.

Laurent can’t help it, he looks away. “I did want you. I do.”

Nikandros won’t hear it. “Did your father tell you to come to me, to act sweet and vulnerable, and have me take you into my bed?”

There is a long, tense moment where they look at each other.

“Yes,” Laurent says. “He told me to keep you happy.”

Nik closes his eyes, his shoulders drop. “And Damen?”

“I didn’t love you at first,” Laurent says. “You didn’t want me either. But that changed, Nik. You have been nothing but kind to me. How could I not love you after all that has been between us?”

He looks unmoved. “Did you invite Damen to join us because your father ordered it?”

“No,” Laurent admits. “That wasn’t planned.”

Nikandros looks at him, closely. Perhaps honesty wasn’t the best policy after all. “Alright,” he says, simply. Then he turns and walks away.

Laurent reaches out between the bars. “Nikandros, wait!”

The door clangs shut. It echoes. Laurent sits down, on the dirty ground and tries to breathe. It must be hopeless now. Damen has not visited him at all; Nikandros is hurt and betrayed and he will not help Laurent. He might as well walk to his execution now. Auguste will be so upset. So will mother - and she is so delicate to stress; she was very ill when Laurent was a child, this will destroy her.

“That was honestly embarrassing to witness,” Kastor’s voice rings out from his own cell. “I think Nik will be scarred for the rest of his life.”

“Shut up,” Laurent says. “Just the idea that I would collude with the likes of you is disgusting.”

“I mean, at least I didn’t fuck a guy because my daddy ordered it.”

“It was a political marriage, that much is expected.” Laurent scowls into the darkness.

“Stop speaking as if you’re so much better than me when you were caught in this trap just the same.”

“There has to be some way to prove our innocence,” Laurent says, more to himself than to Kastor. “Before we are executed, preferably.”

“Damen won’t execute me,” Kastor’s voice sounds astounded that Laurent would even suggest such a thing. “He’s my brother. He’ll banish me back to Vask at worst.”

“He is a king. He has to set an example against traitors.”

There’s a long pause. “Have you ever actually told my brother to do something he doesn’t want to do? It’s like you don’t know him at all.”

#captive prince #writing #the arranged marriage au #d/n/l #okay there's 1-2 parts left at most #depending on if i decide to break the next bit up #home stretch babey

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past-present-future-cable · 6 years ago

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Chapter 2

Thanos nearly exploded from the bed, the sheets stuck to his hulking frame by the cold sweat that drenched him. His chest was heaving and he felt like his heart was about to beat itself to pieces inside him. He turned to the side and saw that, contrary to what the last few hours had shown him, she was still next to him, still breathing and asleep. Well at least a little. She was stirring after the way he’d suddenly woken. Before she could ask him what was wrong when she saw the wild-eyed expression on his face, he scooped her into his massive arms and held her against him tight enough to feel her small heart beating against him.

She was alive, whole.

And worried sick. She had never seen him afraid before, never seen him disheveled unless he was injured. Even in his sleep he radiated strength and calm. She got her arms free and wrapped them around his neck, hugging him tightly and covering his face in kisses hoping to calm him. When he buried his face against the hot skin of her neck, inhaling so deeply that it made the way he was holding her a little painful, her worry ratcheted up to unheard of levels. This was not the Thanos she knew. What had happened? They'd only been asleep!

He'd had a nightmare. The words sounded silly even as he thought them. They were close but not correct. This was not something his own mind could have created with such painful detail and sensation. What he'd seen and felt it had been as real to his mind and his senses as if he'd actually lived it. The images were still fresh in his mind.

The planet was Titan, his home world. After he'd wiped it clean of life in a final bid to make Death accept him and his affections. However after serious thought there’d been a schism with how he viewed her and how he felt that left him no longer interested in her and leaving her behind even as she'd pleaded for him to stay. That’s where he'd found himself. On the barren skeleton of the world he'd once loved. Standing in front of him, all long toned legs and flowing dark hair and ample bosom was Death. Even then she'd looked beautiful. The way a poisonous creature did. She stood with a smile on her lips and one arm outstretched, a narrow finger aimed at his feet.

When he looked down everything went wrong and he bellowed until his throat ripped itself apart and his veins were straining under his skin from the rapid flow in them.

She laid there broken, all the blood in her small body decorating the dusty ground beneath and around her. A dark parody of a halo. His knees hit the ground hard enough to shake it and he scrambled to pull her to him, tears streaking down his face. His wailing sobs would not be stopped as he rocked her against him, begging for her to wake, to breathe. To tell him what had happened. Even though he knew his please were futile. His hands wrapped completely around her body and he saw that they lined up with the breaks and bruises and gouges in her body.

They matched his hands, her injuries matched his hands. Oh gods…

Lyra's broken neck creaked and cracked as she turned to look at him, all the way around in the wrong direction she looked at him like a prop from a horror movie. One of her eyes was gone, the bone showed through the skin and her cheek were ripped open down her face. Her other eye was dark with death and her lips were stained with her own blood. Her voice was a weak wet rasp and he lowered his head to hear her speak. He didn't question how it was happening.

"Why?"

Death walked over, the smile never leaving her lips and she placed her fingers under his chin and tilted his face up.

"Bend the knee last son of Titan and she lives."

That had been when he'd finally forced himself awake. He could still feel the chill of her skin on his and the tacky blood on his hands. His mind had not created that hellscape of a nightmare. It felt real. There was a familiar tug in the corner of his mind. He knew that feeling.

The mind stone had been the source.

He hugged the small human woman closer to his chest to assure himself again that she was there and that the stone wasn't producing this as well but the tug was gone. This was real.

"Thanos, look at me." There was no way she'd actually manipulated him away from her skin and to eye level. He moved at her touch with ease. Feeling her hands on him calmed his hectic heart. He met her gaze trying to bury the fear that would show. He couldn't let her see that, couldn't let her see him any less kingly than he already looked. "Thanos...please. What's going on?"

He sighed and shook his head, not wanting to have this conversation.

"I've been working too hard and it's catching up with me."

He hadn't lied. Thanos had been working himself to the bone lately trying to find the infinity stones again. He needed them. The universe was fracturing. Someone, unknown to him and to all of his spies and agents, had undone his work in stages. They'd brought everyone back but not given them all bodies. He had neglected to tell her that big however. The waves of energy that the fracture had caused were deflected easy by the Sanctuary class ship so its path through the cosmos was undisturbed. All he'd ever told her about what had kept his attention and had sent him walking about in the middle of the night with his head bowed and tension knotting his muscles was that he didn't want her to know about it.

It was his work, the fall out of his actions. Someone, someone powerful had been upset by what he'd done and was turning the clock back.

"It's giving you nightmares. What are you working on?" His response was to just shake his head and say nothing on the subject. Thanos knew that if he told her that Thor was back she would be terrified. When he'd wiped out half of all sentient life, the god had fought. He'd been a worthy adversary too and if the situation was vastly different Thanos would have loved the opportunity to spar with him. That was a dream. The reality had him almost dying from the ax he'd had wedged into his chest mere milometers from his heart.

Lyra had fallen over herself when Thanos had returned with a gaping wound that didn't seem like it would ever stop bleeding. The green dress she'd been wearing ended up permanently purple when she crashed into him, hands roaming his chest trying to stop the blood and demanded those who were near to help her save him. She hadn't slept more than an hour a day over the week it took for the injury to begin to close up. The next week she managed two hours most nights. She'd lost weight, gotten violently sick from the stress.

No.

There was no way he was telling her that the man who had almost killed him was back.

The sound that came out of her was exasperation and annoyance. They were supposed to be partners. Equals, Even if she didn't understand the very complicated details of it all. Lyra wanted to snap at him, be angry but she couldn't. Not when her ribs were still sore from the crushing hug he'd had her in. Not when the wild light had just started to die away. And she wasn't going to bring it up but his hands were shaking. It was barely noticeable but the tremor was there.

It wasn't just a dream, however this wasn't the time to press him on it. Not now.

"Okay. It's just stress." Thanos snorted softly and smiled some. She never let anything go and never that damn easy. She was firm in her resolve to get answers out of him and no amount of time or deflection on his part would stop her. Her stubbornness was one of the things he loved most about her. "Go rinse off. As much as I love you, I don't love how you smell right now." She made a show of gagging and fanning the air between the two of them.

"Oh it can't be that bad," she grinned and he felt all the fear and stress evaporate. She was good at that.

Lyra changed the sheets and put clean clothes out for Thanos before going back to sleep leaving Thanos alone in the bathroom under the harsh stream of the shower head. One hand pressed against the gnarled scar that marked the center of his chest. He had nearly died and it had been the first time he'd seen Death in a long time. He'd spent so much time avoiding her after he realized she was just using him. They hadn't parted on the best of terms. She hated him now and the things she hated, she delighted in torturing.

She'd been torturing him for years. Death had to be the one who'd returned Thor to the realm of the living. Thor and Tony Stark and the denizens of a planet of warriors who were second only to his own personal army. She had an army now and that nightmare could only be one thing: the opening salvo of war.

#thanos #thanos fic #chapter 2 #mad titan thanos

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the-walking-memelords · 6 years ago

Text

Allegiances: Chapter 5

Series is rated M

Word Count: 2600

Cracks have been slowly forming since the beginning, but when does the weight become too much?

Read it on Ao3!

Read it on Wattpad!

Three days had passed since the group voted for Marlon to stay with the group. Louis eventually managed to convince Marlon to leave his room, though it was rare for him to speak to anyone else other than his best friend. Shame seemed to be eating Marlon alive, choosing to complete whatever tasks he’d been given without help from anyone else. Marlon wouldn’t so much as make eye contact with Clementine or Brody. At least Rosie treated him as if nothing had changed.

Tension still ran between the group’s members but some of the cracks had begun to close over time. Another day of damaged relations came to a close as the sun set over the forest. The final rays of sun shining through the orange leaves left a warm golden glow over the school.

Clementine was unable to feel the warmth, however, as the final breaths of day faded away to night, she prepared herself for the next step in her mission.

---

The halls of the dormitory grew still as its occupants drifted off to sleep. All but one, that is. Only the faint creaking of the floorboards could be heard in the otherwise silent night as Clementine snuck away from her temporary home. The harsh brick scraped her hands as she scaled the outer wall of the school, landing in the dirt on the other side with a thud.

The overcast why made it difficult for her to see. Clementine relied on her ears to signify any dangers nearby. Pulling her denim jacket tight against the chill of the wind, she trekked further through the forest towards the rendezvous point.

She had been dreading this night for a while. Being around people her own age was comforting. Clementine hated most adults. They seemed to rather solve problems with bullets rather than actual civilized solutions. She pushed her opinions out of her head.

Thinking too much will get him killed.

Her mind wandered instead to AJ. That sweet little boy was all she cared for in this shit world. She could be free if she so chose. Missions like these offered ample opportunities for escape, but how could she? Clem had promised so many people that she would keep him safe. So many of her friends, dead. All so she and that boy could live. It felt as though Alvin and Rebecca were with her. Watching her. Begging her to save him at every turn. Their screams only becoming louder in her dreams. Just thinking about their broken family caused her chest to hurt. Her heart raced, she steadied herself against a tree and tried to calm her breathing.

Why am I like this?

Her legs felt weak underneath her but she pressed on still. The trees began to clear as she made out the shape of the weather-worn roof in the distance. The train station looked more like a junkyard. Decayed boxcars littered the area, the wind whistling through the rusted out holes. Hopping the fence, she stepped over the dead plants that used to make up a garden.

Someone must have been living here at some point.

This placed seemed to be as dead as the rest of the outside world.

She took one final deep breath, staring at the cracks in the old wooden door.

Don’t fuck this up, Clementine.

Two knocks.

Then one.

Then three.

The door swung open, the toothy grin of Abel visible in her peripheral vision as she stared blankly ahead.

“Right on time as always.” He greeted, stepping aside to let her enter. The smell of his hand-rolled cigarette filled the small room.

The inside of the small building was trashed, clearly unoccupied for some time and picked over again and again by any scavengers who’d come across it. Her foot crunched over the remains of a glass jar as she moved to stand at attention before the woman she dreaded seeing.

“Welcome back, soldier.” Lilly smirked, leaning back in one of the chairs. “How was your first week of school? I trust you learned a lot?”

“Yes, commander.” She said flatly. “It has been quite eventful these past few days.”

“I can tell.” Abel stood uncomfortably close behind her. He reached around, harshly flicking her bruise causing it to sting.

She tried not to flinch.

Clementine recapped the events that transpired surrounding Marlon and Brody and the revelation of what truly happened to the twins, a devilish smirk across Lilly’s face all the while.

“I told you that little bastard was a pansy, Lilly.” Abel laughed. “I’m surprised he didn’t run away or just off himself once they found out. That kid has coward written all over him.”

“They’re suspicious that our forces might be in the area.” Clementine warned.

“Not of me, but the robbery of the fishing shack has them a bit on edge. New management wants to significantly upgrade the defences just to be sure.” She mentally cursed out Abel for doing something so pointless. Everything was a lot more complicated now because of him.

“On what grounds?” Lilly asked, leaning forward.

“Pure anxiety, I believe. I disposed of the bible cigarette that had been left behind before they discovered it.”

A sloppy and careless mistake. If Brody had seen it…

“Are you saying I almost blew the operation?” Abel accused, his hand grabbed the back of her neck tightly.

“No, sir.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

He released his hand, but never backed away.

“Tell me some specifics about these kids. Basic rundown.” Lilly ordered. “I want to get to know your new friends.” The smile on her face was sickening

“There’s ten of them in total, eight of them are of a decent age to fight being between about sixteen and eighteen.” She began. “There are two kids about twelve or thirteen who would be better used as… leverage pieces.” She winced internally at the thought of Willy and Tennessee in the same boat as AJ.

Clementine continued to describe the members of the boarding school.

“Marlon is as you remember. Emotionally weak, quick temper, but a good shot.”

A coward who did the wrong thing for the right reason.

“Violet is their new leader. Typically uses melee weapons, but I’ve observed her being pretty accurate with a bow. She was Minerva’s girlfriend.”

A good friend who had her heart broken too many times.

“Brody is emotionally unstable. Her anxiety causes her to shut down, which has only become worse as of late.”

Brody and I really are alike, aren’t we?

“Mitch is a fighter. Ruthless against walkers. He hand-crafts tools and weapons for the group.”

Fiercely protective of his friends, especially Willy.

“Omar is the cook of the group. Knowledgeable about spices and local plant life. Appears physically strong but I’ve never seen him fight.”

Kind-hearted soul, looks out for everyone.

Clementine’s heart ached as the list went on. She forced herself to keep her voice steady.

She couldn’t lose it here.

“Tennessee and Willy are the younger ones. Tenn is the younger brother of the twins. Both are usually given watch duty since they can’t really do anything else.”

A couple of sweet kids, they’re not going to last once we take them.

“Aasim is a hunter. Practical dead-eye shot who knows how to track game through most conditions. He does whatever it takes to make sure everyone gets fed.”

He was never afraid to challenge any of Marlon’s decisions. One of the bravest.

“Ruby is the group’s doctor. She was trained by an actual nurse who worked at the school. She knows how to patch people up, medicine and such. She often looks out for the kids the most.” A sweet person with a big heart.

Someone was still missing. The one she could never quite figure out. Emotions were a tricky business, and he made her feel all kinds of those.

“Louis is…” She trailed off, trying to get her thoughts aligned. There were so many things she could say about him, but she had to be careful which ones she vocalized.

“...an optimist.”

That’s safe, right?

“He always looks out for everyone.”

A shoulder to lean on so we don’t have to suffer alone.

“His weapon is a makeshift bat.”

Heh, ‘Chairles.’

“He lives life in the moment and doesn’t like to think long-term.”

This moment is all we have after all.

“Louis…” She bit her lip, trying not to get carried away. Everything here seemed wrong. Her heart was beating so loud she wondered if Lilly could hear it.

Clementine started to lose herself again. Her throat dried up as she struggled to find the right words. A thousand words could be used to describe Louis but none were safe to say. If she showed any real attachment to these people she would be pulled immediately, but she couldn’t help how she felt, even if she couldn’t explain why. Her knuckles went white as she clenched her fists at her sides, her nails biting into her palms.

“Louis is going to die when we send him to war.”

“They all will, Clementine. You know that.” Lilly hissed, raising an eyebrow at her.

She stood from her chair, approaching her. Clementine felt infinitely small practically squished between the two towering adults. She shuddered as she tried to retain her composure. Lilly grabbed Clementine’s chin, her sharp nails scratching her skin.

“Don’t forget what’s at stake here.” Lilly leaned in until her face was only a few inches from hers.

“Are these people really worth his life?”

“Never.”

“That’s what I thought.” She finally let go.

“You are dismissed, soldier.”

---

Clementine was a mess by the time she was far away from the train station to feel alone. A walker emerged along the path, no doubt drawn by her breathy sobs. Its boney fingers clawed at her jacket as she struggled against it. The stench of death stung her nose as she kicked its leg out. She threw herself on top of the walker, her sorrow turning to rage as she plunged her knife into its face over and over, splattering her tear-stained face with its dark rotten blood.

“Come on then!” She screamed at the darkness surrounding her. More undead snarls came from the blackness as she raised her knife. One by one they fell. Each stab not nearly as satisfying as she wished it was.

There was something odd about the next walker that challenged her. Something about the way it carried itself was unnervingly alive.

“Stop.” Clementine’s eyes shot wide as the walker spoke to her. She tried to convince herself she imagined it, knife still poised to attack.

To her further surprise, the walker backed away, pushing past two walkers headed in her direction. Picking up a sizable rock, he threw it far into the trees with a few loud thunks that drew the walkers in the other direction.

Clementine stood there shocked, knife still in hand.

“I-I uh…” was all she could muster.

“I’m sorry the herd attacked you. I tried to steer them away but we were already too close. Are you alright?” He spoke lowly, keeping his distance.

As Clem looked closer, she could see human skin peeking out behind the rotted mask. His soft brown eyes clearly not matching the clouded-over look the dead had.

“A Whisperer…” She had heard rumours about a group that wore the skin of walkers in order to live among them, but she could hardly believe such a group actually existed. This boy was young, too. Couldn’t be much older than her.

This world is always full of surprises.

“Not anymore but… I used to be.” He rubbed his arm.

“I’m surprised you’ve heard of them. Most people who encounter the Whisperers aren’t so lucky as to tell the tale.”

“I’ve heard stories.” She sniffed, finally lowered her knife and trying to act composed.

“Didn’t think they were true.”

“You’ll find truth in a lot of stories these days.”

The two stared each other down for a moment. Both unsure but neither threatening. The boy was the first to break the short silence.

“I have a small camp nearby if you’d like you can stay there for the night, and I’ll take you to the school in the morning.” Her eyes widened at that.

“How did you know I was from the school?” Has he been watching them?

“Good guess, I suppose. I’ve lived in this area for a while. I usually stay away from your territory but I know a group of kids live there.” He didn’t mention her only recent appearance. Maybe he was just a loner trying to survive after all.

“I uh, appreciate the offer…”

“J-James.” He studdered, almost unsure.

“I appreciate the offer, James, but I need to get back before they know I’m gone.” She wiped the blood off her face with a shaky hand.

“I’m not supposed to be out by myself. I just needed to get out for a bit and got carried away.” A convincing enough excuse, not that it really needed to be. She could feel his eyes wander to the purple mark on her cheek, but he didn’t bring it up.

“As long as you know your way back. Safe travels.” After that, the two parted ways. James disappeared to rejoin the herd as Clementine continued on towards the school, reaching the walls just as the sky began to lighten.

---

She snuck back into the school the same way she had gotten out. Clementine was exhausted both physically and mentally, her body still shaking and her chest aching with every rapid beat. Even though she was incredibly tired she knew no sleep would come to her in the few hours she had left to rest. Her sloppy footsteps were met with a more steady sounding set as she realized she wasn’t the only “Early Riser” in the dormitory.

“Someone’s up early.” The quiet yet cheerful voice of the exact last person she wanted to see at that moment whispered from behind her.

I hope he didn’t see me sneak in.

“Good morning, Louis.” She stopped for only a second, not turning towards him before continuing to walk towards her room.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She didn’t answer him as she closed the door behind her.

“Clem?” He sounded worried.

“Are you alright?”

She tried to muffle her sobs with her pillow gripping it for dear life as fell from the bed to the floor. Why did he have to make her feel this way? Why couldn’t she just ignore it?

“Clementine?” Hearing the thump his voice became frantic. When his knocking received no response, he tried the unlocked handle.

Of course, I didn’t fucking lock it.

“Oh my God.” He rushed to her side immediately.

“Clem, please, tell me what’s wrong.”

Clementine couldn’t do this. She just couldn’t take it anymore.

She abandoned her pillow, throwing her arms around Louis’ torso and burying her face into his chest. He didn’t hesitate to return the embrace, resting his chin on the top her head as he stroked her hair.

“It’s alright, Clementine.” He tried to calm her as she practically hyperventilated in his arms.

It wasn’t. It really wasn’t, but her throat was too tight for her to do much but choke out sobs as she sunk into the warmth of the hug.

“Shh… I’m here. I’m right here.” He continued to hold her close as she continued to stain his shirt with tears.

“Please don’t leave.” Her hoarse voice made the words barely audible

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Louis pulled his coat around them both.

“Ever.”

#allegiances #my writing #clouis #louistine #fanfic

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zimuse · 6 years ago

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All of my issues with S8 of Voltron

So. Firstly, the show is always brilliantly animated and I deeply appreciate their attention to detail. But I have WAY MORE issues than anything else, and I’m not at all happy or content with how it ended. So let me go ahead and list my gripes with the eighth season, in no particular order: 1) That whole thing with Allura violently forcing her memories on Zarkon. What the actual fuck, dude? I don’t care what Zarkon has done; this was clearly, visibly, not the same Zarkon they have been dealing with – a Zarkon who is not corrupted by quintessence, who is bewildered by what’s going on, has no clue what the hell anyone is talking about, no recollection, knowledge or memory. And she just fucking assaulted him? Moral issues aside, how do you know that that’s not going to break him and turn him into the Zarkon you do know? Oh, right, consequences; I forgot, we never think about those. And I know she’s got a lot of anger, but literally no one in the group reacted?! Not even his fellow paladins that have been trapped in this same state with him? Real heroes, guys. Bravo! 2) Zarkon calling his wife a “psychopath”. Excuse the fuck out of you, sir. She’s not a psychopath - she is doing what she believes needs to be done to get her family back. And after everything she’s been through, do I blame her? Hell no. Her driving force, her only motivation, is her family. With Zarkon dead, her focus went to her son, and she quite literally ripped through time and space to bring him back. No, I really don’t think that qualifies as a psychopath. Using what’s basically portrayed as his corpse to control the Sincline though, that’s another story but I’ll get to that later. Anyway. Check your privilege, sir. 3) Allura “seeing the good in Honerva” like she saw “the good in everyone”. Where the hell was this in the confrontation with Lotor, who she supposedly loved? Because apparently this doesn’t at all extend to him. Honerva, as much as I adore her, did so much worse than Lotor ever could be accused of. Yes, Allura did admit in the end that Lotor sought peace but, well, it was well past the point where it mattered. Seriously. He supposedly died screaming, alone, and ended up a fused quintessence robot... Zombie thing. But Honerva? She’s Altean. So she gets off easy during the actual confrontation and on screen. 4) I HAVE SO MANY ISSUES WITH THE LIMITED AMOUNT OF LOTOR IN THIS SEASON. Yes, that deserved to be in all caps. Okay, we saw a glimpse of his body, and I get that in the narrative we're supposed to believe that he's dead. Well, as the weirdly fused robot zombie. Does anyone else have a problem with this shit? BECAUSE I FUCKING DO. The quintessence field was literally described as life itself - how in the actual fuck are you going to tell me he died, surrounded by the essence of life itself? And also, yes, we saw a glimpse of his "corpse". There's no proof that it was actually a corpse. We saw the back side of him. Until I see a FULL BODY FRONT VIEW of it, I do not believe he's dead. Whoever made this be a thing... -flips off- 5) BUT if we are to accept that he's dead... The paladins literally murdered Lotor and no one, save Honerva, even stopped to acknowledge it. And honestly? This tears at my heart. 6) Was there a reason they used the name Merla for that one Altean at the end? I didn’t see any similarities between these two characters other than betrayal. Why even include it? 7) Speaking of betrayal, is this an affliction most Alteans suffer from? Because Coran is literally the only exception to this that we’ve seen. And supposedly Romelle, but I still don’t trust her, so I don’t include her. Fuck Romelle. 8) Keith as spokesperson for the Galra and Galra rep? Why would the remaining Galra with any authority listen to someone who doesn’t even look Galra? Randomly cheering at his speech? What is this. I can see his Krolia and Kolivan being the representatives and all, but why weren’t THEY the ones giving the speech? Oh yeah, I know why. The next point. 9) Oh, and about that speech, it was word for word literally what Lotor said to the Galra once up on a time (in s5, I believe?). Add insult to injury, why don’t you. 10) The Altean marks on Lance at the end, how does this even work? I thought it was genetic, purely Altean thing. Is it not? Can anyone acquire them? Does this mean you’re considered Altean now, Lance? WHY on earth is this a thing and why isn’t it explained? - EDIT: After thinking about this more and referring back to the series itself... I can conclude that the Altean marks are as magical as the race that is born with them. Think about it, these marks fundamentally tell you something about that character. Allura’s and Coran’s are small, just on their cheeks, and are smooth. They don’t have edges. Honerva, who has been corrupted, had elongated, jagged marks. But when she was “redeemed”, the long jagged marks we’ve seen throughout all eight seasons (after being corrupted), her marks shrink, becoming her old smooth marks post-corruption. And Lotor? His marks aren’t as long as his mothers’, but they were a tad jagged - signifying that at his core, he was a good person, yet he’d been touched by darkness and that darkness was a part of him. The Prince was born with the same unique energy signature that his parents were corrupted/killed/reanimated with. I do think that the marks take on the personality, for lack of better word, to match the individual. It’s visibly obvious that these things are magical in some way, but does that justify the “ability” to mark someone else with them? This could be up to interpretation. I don’t think so, though. It seemed like a random thing to toss in. So kind of like the Balmara (which I’ll get into in another point), if it had been seen previously in another portion of the series, I’d have accepted it as something that Alteans could do. As it stands in the current narrative, I don’t think it should be a thing, nor was it meant to be a thing in the original draft. It was supposed to be Lotor in Lance’s position, not actually Lance. Thus, I feel that scene was supposed to be the reappearance of Lotor’s own Altean marks. Not the gift of Lance’s. 11) Altea and Daibazaal came back... Why? That tells me it’s not actually their reality that they returned to. But then that raises several questions, so what do? If it’s because eliminating the rift undid everything associated with it, then that should have restored Alfor, Zarkon, Lotor, Honerva and literally everyone else involved with that too. Which I would have totally accepted. 12) Sooooo killing Lotor essentially not only led to the loss of millions of lives throughout the universe, but ultimately led to the erasing of all but one reality. And no one addressed the Voltron team’s hand in this? Seriously? 13) “Join the Coalition.” “What’s the alternative.” “There is no alternative.” That... That sounds like conquest to me. Thanks for the options, broski. 14) The whole way they dealt with Lahn. He brought up some excellent points, about Voltron/Allura having everything handed to them, but I guess the power of teamwork and friendship managed to give him a sudden bout of amnesia and sign up for the Coalition. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Way to slap a bandaid on that, guys. I hate it when writers do this. And if I ever do this? Slap me and tell me to fix it. 15) The paladins literally leaving everyone they help undefended, and then being shocked that those places have fallen to whatever villain is the focus at that time. Like, Olkarion? What were they thinking? As what was arguably the central nexus of their forces, possessing the most advanced technology they have access to, it should have been the number one priority to make sure it didn’t fall to enemy hands. But that makes way too much sense too, doesn't it? I want Shiro back as the Black Lion. Or Lotor to have returned to be the Black Lion. He did use the Black Bayard to kill Zarkon after all, and that was never revisited for... Reasons. That could have been a fantastic plot point to show that Lotor was the next Black Paladin. He’d certainly make a better one than Keith. 16) Speaking of - they never even checked up on the Olkari citizens that evacuated. Why? Was this done off-camera and just never mentioned? Because that seems really important to know WHERE your highly advanced tech/weapon makers are. Are they okay? Did they find another planet before their provisions ran out? Why are all casualties and losses either not mentioned at all or are/were glossed over? 17) Everyone treating Lotor like an immoral murderer when he was anything but. I swear. The writers present him as sympathetic and provide ample reasonable arguments on his behalf, both in show and in interviews, etc., but then proceed to have every other character treat him as though he’s a monster. Why tf are you having everyone demonize him, when you show us that it’s not true and you’re not going to bring him back for the redemption arc he deserved, and gave him the chance to explain himself? All that’s doing is affecting my opinion of the other characters lmao. 18) The paladins seriously took 5 episodes to come to the conclusion that, yes, it is Honerva that’s responsible for all of this new shenanigans. I’m honestly not sure why they’re surprised. We all knew that she went SOMEWHERE. She was the wife of Zarkon, and Lotor’s mother. She made several adversaries that Voltron struggled to face. She was the alchemic force driving the Galra Empire, and no one thought, “Hmm, we should probably keep tabs on that, she’s dangerous”? And then took another 6 episodes to figure out her motivations? There’s only one conclusion to draw from this: They’re dumb. 19) There are several opportunities taken to go to great lengths about how it’s not what you are but who you are that counts, that it doesn’t matter what you have done in the past and you can always grow from it and deserve a chance. I’m thinking specifically of the Acxa/Veronica scene, but there were a couple of other instances. I guess that we just don’t extend that courtesy to Lotor. He literally got the shit end of the stick from all directions and all of the characters are just pouring salt in the wound. -rubs temples and fumes- 20) Acxa, what the actual fuck? Lotor using their rage as half breeds? What. He never, ever let them go on a rampage, and always emphasized no killing. Zethrid and Ezor were the ones always portrayed as really bloodthirsty, but all of a sudden Ezor is the one who can’t take the anger anymore and wants out, and wants Zethrid to let go of her rage? Ezor, who was so eager to bleed and torture? Lolwat.

21) Why were there two episodes dedicated to trans-versing Honerva's mind? They were completely and utterly useless. The plot did not move forward with it, Voltron and the Paladins didn't bond stronger or learn new moves/techniques that could have helped them in their final battle with Honerva - nothing. The only thing I got from it was how much more badass Honerva actually is. She trapped SOULS in her mind and kept them prisoner. That’s terrifying and cool, but did we really need to know that? Not really. What happened to the original Paladins could have been covered in a single episode, in a different fashion. So the "dark entity" and the connection to Honerva? That didn't need to be in the narrative at all. You could argue that without it, they couldn't have saved the souls of the original paladins, but they would have been saved at the end any fucking way when Honerva and Allura sacrificed themselves to fix all the shit. Sooo. Thanks for wasting 40 minutes of our time. 22) So in episode 13, when they're chasing Honerva through the holes in dimensions... And she drains Voltron (and the paladins by extension) of energy, we see the hole CLOSE. Okay? We saw it close. That means they're stuck there forever. Done. Finito, they no longer exist - none of them, not from that dimension. Then we went to Honerva getting what she wanted at last - except she didn't. Lotor outright rejects her. I do not blame him at all for being angry if that dimension's version of his mom was dead and he's still grieving, but it was alluded to that it's been a couple years since she died. We see Zarkon protect his son in this dimension, and that he’s uncorrupted. Thus, we can assume that Honerva wasn’t corrupted either, and was never abusive towards Lotor. And he just... Didn't accept her? I know that Lotor is extremely perceptive, even as a kid, but why? If she wasn’t abusive towards him in that dimension, why does he immediately reject her? More over, his rejection seems to be the last straw - which feels... Odd, because it feels as if she’s heard it prior and that was the nail in the coffin that said “fuck it, destroy everything”. It would have made more narrative sense if Lotor had been alive, and in his own redemption arc, to tell “the witch” that his mother was dead - and that is why this dimension’s version of him saying the same thing struck such a nerve. But what bugs me the most is that Voltron came out of nowhere and continued the battle. The gateway into that dimension closed. We all saw it close. The dimension they were IN dissolved completely, so HOW did they get there?! How are they not dead at that point? This should NOT have been a thing. I’d have accepted it if they had just barely made it through the hole, but no. This is just another Dues Ex Machina, and I’m not having it. I'd have been absolutely fine with the series ending with Honerva in the alternate universe with her family, having to work to earn kid!Lotor's affection and recognition that she's his mother. That could have easily been worked on. A kid is a kid, no matter what. He'd have warmed up to her eventually. I think. And in that alternate universe, Lotor and Allura would have grown up (sort-of, she appears much older - at least a teenager at that point?) together, and more than likely still would have fallen in-love. With his father and mother there. Honerva would have had everything. 23) Did we actually need to go as big as the multi-verses being threatened? Nah. As cool as as they were, time travel would have been much easier for Honerva. And would have made a lot more sense, all things considered. If she went back to before she and her hubby were corrupted, she could have stopped ALL OF THIS SHIT from happening to begin with. THAT would have been a better ending, to have done time-travel and to fast-forward a couple years to seeing how everyone ended up. Allura and Lotor, married. ANd the rest of the cast? With the same ending as they had in the narrative, given that the original paladins either stepped down as Paladins of Voltron and let new people succeed them, or having never been involved with the plot as a whole BECAUSE the original paladins never died. I can understand that this would feel like a huge cop out, and that not everyone fancies time travel stories these days. There have been quite a number of them throughout the years. It would’ve worked here though, but I don’t think that was the point. I think the point of going to another dimension is that Honerva didn’t want to change the past - she wanted to start over, and leave the reality that she helped to fuck over.

24) What was with all of the Dues ex Machinas!? There were at least 3 or 4. That’s too many across a single episode, or even two. Like ZOOM, suddenly the Balmera were there. When did that become a thing? If it had been shown earlier in the series that they could do that, I’d have accepted it. But to bring that in so suddenly? No, the writers pulled that outta their asses. 25) And let’s not forget that Honerva used that one giant Balmera as a battery when Merla knocked out one of the towers. That mighta been a lotta crystals, but the power difference between several of those crystals and the energy of entire planets that had who even knows how much life on them, astounds and bothers me. Yeah, the crystals are used to power ships and all, but really? Those things have more energy than six planets? I need this in waaaay more detail somewhere, because until it is, this was also a Dues Ex Machina.

26) One of the two biggest issues I have with season 8 is Allurance - not because I’m against the ship nor because I dislike Lance’s character. My issue is with how it was portrayed. If you compare season 8′s Allurance with season 5 and early season 6′s Lotura, you’ll seen just how drastically different they are. We see Allura at her happiest with Lotor than we do in any other season. With Lance? She doesn’t look happy. That same spark just isn’t there. Its like she’s forcing herself to move on, and it just doesn’t work. I mean, consider the episode with the Dark Entity and how it primarily assumed Lotor’s form. She misses and longs for him, and the vision of her in the Altean robeast draining her beloved planet of quint to save it was - and I full heartedly believe this because otherwise it’s randomly there in the narrative - for Allura to feel and understand what it was like to be in Lotor’s shoes. And Lance? Lance doesn’t particularly look really happy either, honestly. Frankly, the boy looks miserable. More over, the fact that Allura has rejected him for six seasons only to sorta flirt with him in s7 and then date him in s8... Really bugs me. That’s akin to sending a message that if you persue a woman long enough, she’ll eventually cave and accept a man’s romantic feelings. No. That is not a message to send to kids ages 7 and up. Add to the fact that Lance has had thoughts of Allura clinging to his leg while he’s proclaimed as the winner and everyone is looking up to him, and that he tells Allura that he’s “great at winning prizes” which essentially hints that he thinks of her as a prize that he’s won - and this isn’t only disturbing, it’s outright revolting and sexist. If I were a parent, this is not the kind of message I’d want my child to have. Period. 27) But the most disturbing thing about season 8, and the reason it was essentially ruined, was the fate of Lotor. There were several moments throughout s8 where he could have been there. And we can clearly see in the closing scene where the lions are flying out into the cosmos that it’s not just Allura’s outline in the stars. She’s clearly with Lotor, as if he was supposed to have been there the whole time and was supposed to share her choice. Season 8 had the potential of being the most beautiful redemption story tied into a Heroine’s journey that I’ve ever seen. But instead, we see an abuse survivor that only wanted to do good, a victim of neglect that longed to be loved... Get the most graphic death in the series with absolutely no chance to redeem himself. All of his plot points are left forgotten and untouched. We’re only given more of his abusive backstory to make him a more sympathetic character. He was never given a real chance to explain his half of the story concerning the Colony; we never see the point that he killed Narti come back up between him and his generals at all, almost as though it never happened to begin with; his potential as the Black Paladin, shown when he used the Black Bayard to kill his father, is left completely unexplored; and being as he wasn’t given a redemption arc, we don’t see him get to have another chance at the White Lion trial and succeed. What we are given is the desecration of the animus, the death of a dark youth character, and the light youth Allura thus being unable to complete her heroine’s journey. The disturbing message that this sends to children, particularly to children that are/were victims of abuse themselves, is completely unacceptable. I stand with @leakinghate and @felixazrael and the others on this point. This is not the story that was written originally, and we see that in the choppiness of certain episodes, as well as the conclusion with both Allura and Lotor in the stars. Legendary Defender was always meant to be their story. I don’t personally believe that the writers who put so much thought, so much care, so much love into these characters would write them to end up as we see them in the season 8 we were given. If you haven’t already, please sign the petition to release/explain the original season eight.

#vld #vld s8 #vld s8 spoilers #spoilers ahoy #All of my issues with this season #But I will probably find more #all of the dues ex machinas #Originally I only had like #20 points but they just kept coming #oops?#Lotor deserved better #allura deserved better #Lotura forever

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geneshaven · 7 years ago

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622 (Olicity Is In The House)

Before I jump into my take on episode 622, I wanted to briefly comment on the lack of Olicity sexy times this season. Just like the missed opportunities of taking out Diaz on Thursday night, so too were there similar moments where Oliver and Felicity missed golden chances when unclothed frivolity could have ensued:

1. The first one was in 603 and Olicity crashing into each other’s arms, anticipating breaking their long drought. It was a good kiss and the following implied sexy time could have and should have been epic.

2. 604. Against the wall in the Loft, then on the couch with some serious groping. Then yet another damn phone brings things to a screeching halt. I actually heard the squeal of tires.

3. 606. Oliver comes back from helping Slade. There is a rain-streaked kiss and yet another opportunity for sexy shenanigans. Enter William, dousing them like a cold shower.

4. 608. Their wedding night, not the reception afterwards, but in Central City. Sure, they could have gotten a hotel room and really made it happen.

5. 609. See #4. Except replace the hotel room with the Bunker and their favorite particular piece of work-out equipment.

6. 611. After sending William off to school, our married couple could have made use of the back of that couch. It would have been exciting and quick. It would have been a great married sex scene and another epic memory for the scrapbook.

7. 614. William and Felicity baking cookies and Oliver coming in to a cloying domestic moment. In my head cannon, William is still at school and Felicity is baking after-school snacks for her stepson. Except that she knows Oliver was on his way home and would get there before William, with an hour or so until the boy comes home. Felicity is only wearing her kitchen apron. She has dashes of flour on her face and the heat from the oven has unfurled her hair around her shoulders. Oliver comes in and it isn’t the cookies he smells…its spontaneous passion.

8. 617. Bathed in the light coming through the window.

I’m sure there is and was more times throughout the season, but I was just making a similarity and an argument that Diaz is not the threat everybody thinks he is. Hell, William could get the drop on him and put the man down.

Which brings me to 622. In my opinion, it was one of the strongest Olicity episodes of the entire series; definitely the strongest of all Season 6. Yeah, it could have been enhanced with some romantic nakedness, but it wasn’t really necessary. There was an intense intimacy between Oliver and Felicity that made sexy times redundant. All elements of their marriage came into play---trust, support, honesty, a fierce protectiveness for each other and an almost laughable moment when Oliver thought he could tuck her away at Argus. Felicity made a convincing family matriarch. It was like she was directing traffic moving her boys around, mixing them within the pieces of her heart, carefully and softly. Was that the first time Felicity said out loud that she loves William? Oliver holding out his phone so they could both share in the moment---well, I did mention intense intimacy. I think Oliver summed up all their adventures in this episode when Felicity said he had to leave the NTA hideout without her---he said NOT A CHANCE. Hmm, that kind of sounds familiar.

Yes, there was another golden chance for some last minute sexy time when Oliver savagely grabbed her and started another scene fading kiss.

There was so much action in this episode. It almost felt like old times. Oliver was kick ass taking those victims out in the Queen-Smaok apartment. The man has not slowed down---even more so now that he has a family to protect. Nobody panicked when the bullets started to fly. Oliver gave out the plan, Felicity and William implemented it by hiding in William’s room. Oliver thrashed his enemies and didn’t even have to kill them.

Watching Oliver and Felicity out in the field together, running and dodging and safeguarding each other like the partners they’ve always been, I was right there with them. A really good example was Oliver carrying the choking Felicity up those stairs and meeting Diaz half-way up. Just when it seemed that the tepid bad guy had our heroes where he wanted them, Felicity gets in on the action and gives Oliver one of those explosive things she thought to bring along on their mission. It was a precise move and they defined what team means. It is something the Newbies could learn from.

My favorite Olicity moment in this episode was Oliver admitting he doesn’t always have the answers. When he said he made the wrong decision firing Overwatch and that Felicity is 100% capable of looking out for herself, he was quick to add that he was always going to ensure her safety and his ability to keep it intact. Wait, was that Felicity kissing Oliver’s Green Arrowed clad shoulder? Well, her husband did apologize to her so…

I think Olicity+1 are going to be fine. William is the new bridge they can home to. It makes them…well, it makes Oliver and Felicity parents. The only question I have for the final showdown with Diaz is: will the man live or die. Does he warrant a death sentence? Just about every good guy character on the show has ample reason to commit his murder. But, there is a moral question here too. Does Oliver spare Mr. Dragon to set an example on finding another way? Is it a fatherly message to William that violence and death is not the only outcome in their vigilante lives? Is it the difference between being a champion and a hero.

So, if and when Oliver goes to prison, Felicity and William will be those two lights left burning in the window. It will be a beacon to guide Oliver home. But there is one thing that brings real comfort---if Oliver gets a “Life Sentence” then that would be the end of the series. Not unless there are some out there who would enjoy watching an entire season of Felicity and William visiting Oliver in jail.

Well…maybe throw in a couple of husband and wife conjugal visits and it might be watchable.

#622 #olicity

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i-am-made-of-memoriies · 7 years ago

Note

Hey I want to tell you that I love your fic ! I like to see SasuSaku in 13. “I lost our baby.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been so motivated to write a one shot! Thank you for the commission and here goes!

Summary: Based off prompt ‘I lost our baby’

Disclaimer: I don’t Naruto at all nor will I ever (sadly)

Calling Sasuke’s past fourteen hours ‘a long day’ would be the understatement of the century. Sure, he loved his daughter more than life itself, but babies could be more tiring than a one-on-one fight with Kagura. Thankfully, he had made it through the truly rough section and Sarada was beginning to drift off. Cradling his daughter in his solitary arm, he made his way to the couch. Of course, he should be taking her to her crib, but he doubted he had enough energy left in him to make it up that terrible flight of stairs.

“You’re really tiring me out.” Sasuke groaned, collapsing onto the couch.

Sarada giggled and grabbed at her father’s finger. Sasuke smiled at the baby and was asleep within seconds.

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Sakura was no less exhausted than her husband. She had been working her ass off in her hospital for more time than she’d like to imagine. In her chakra-drained, sleep deprived state, she managed to make it to her grand queen-sized bed and nothing more. She didn’t have the energy or presence of mind to realize that her husband wasn’t in the bed or that she left the front door gaping open. In fact, the second she hit the squishy mattress, she was unconscious.

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Sakura woke up first, as usual. That’s not to say she woke up early; no, it was at least half past eleven when she rolled out of bed.

“Sasuke?” She called, her voice gravelly with sleep, “Are you here? You weren’t in the bed.”

Sakura heard a faint ‘hn’ from downstairs. Smiling to herself, she made her way to the kitchen to make coffee.

“Looks like I wasn’t the only one that was run ragged.” She laughed to herself, noting her husband’s disheveled hair and wrinkly clothes, “Sarada must be pooped as well, she didn’t cry this morning.”

Sasuke nodded to himself. Something was wrong. But everything seemed normal. Sasuke and Sakura were up and Sarada was in her crib-wait! “Sakura!” He exclaimed, scanning the living room, “Where’s Sarada?!”

“In her crib?” Sakura looked at Sasuke worriedly, “That’s where you put her at least. Right?”

“I-I forgot.” Sasuke pinched the bridge of his nose, “I was so tired I fell asleep on the couch with her.”

“It’s okay sweetie.” Sakura assured, “She’s got to be somewhere in the house.”

“I’ll go find her.” Sasuke combed his black locks out of his face.

Sakura smiled to herself and began to make coffee. Hardly a minute later Sasuke yelled again.

“The door is wide open!” He gestured to the front door, “Did you leave it open?”

“I must have when I was coming back from work.” Sakura muttered shamefully.

“Now we might have lost Sarada!” Sasuke growled, clenching his teeth.

“Well it wouldn’t have been a problem if you hadn’t left her free to roam the entire night!” Sakura shot back, accidentally crushing her coffee mug.

“Robbers or assassins could have gotten in as well! We’re two out of the three strongest shinobi in the world, someone could have taken ample opportunity and killed us!”

“Well they fucking didn’t!” Sakura tried very hard not to crush the entire house, “Now we need to find our daughter!”

“Damn it.” Sasuke hissed, “I’ll do a chakra scan. We need to find her.”

“But is her chakra signature strong enough? She’s only a few months older than a year.”

“We won’t know until we try.” Sasuke closed his eyes and made a ram seal. His temples were tensed in concentration as Sakura felt his chakra probing everything in a mile radius. “I don’t think it’s strong enough.” He clenched his fists, “That or she’s farther away than we thought.”

“When do you think she left? I got back at about 2:30 last night.”

“She could have left the second you got upstairs. Or perhaps only an hour ago. There’s no way we’d know.”

“We should ask Naruto. He can use his sage mode.”

“There’s no way I’m telling the Dobe that I lost my kid. We can do this ourselves.”

“Stubborn.” Sakura muttered, grabbing loose pants and a t-shirt. “Let’s start looking then.”

Sasuke nodded and threw on his cloak.

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“It’s been more than an hour Sasuke!” Sakura accused, “I don’t care about your stupid pride, I’m asking Naruto to help us find our daughter.”

“Hn.” Sasuke grumbled, making his way to the Uzumaki residence with Sakura. Once they got to the large red building, Sakura practically kicked down the door.

“Naruto Uzumaki, you’re coming with us!” She exclaimed, grabbing the blond roughly by the wrist. “I hope you’re doing well Hinata.” She added, gesturing towards the Hyuga.

“Sakura-chan, what’s going on?” Naruto whined, “I was going to have lunch.”

“You can have lunch once you scan the area for Sarada.” Sakura instructed, “Use sage mode and scan as far as you possibly can.”

“You lost your kid?” Naruto stifled a laugh, “I bet it was the Teme’s fault.”

“Repeat one more word and I’ll rip the real arm off.” Sasuke hissed, flashing his crimson sharingan.

Naruto shuddered and sat down. After a few minutes, his eyelids became orange. He scrunched his face in concentration. “She got pretty far.” He said with a look of surprise.

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The two Uchiha’s finally made it to their destination. Just looking at the location made Sakura remember all the comrades she lost during the war. Making her way to her daughter, she passed by all of their gravestones, shining in the afternoon light. The little raven-haired Uchiha lay peacefully asleep in front of a large gravestone. Once Sakura read the inscription, she was unable to stifle a gasp. There was her little girl asleep in front of the grave of Itachi Uchiha.

“Sarada…” Sasuke muttered, taking in the scene.

Sakura couldn’t stop tears from welling up in her eyes when she saw her husband kneel down next to the sleeping baby, cradle her in his arm, and place his forehead on the gravestone. “I’m glad you got to meet her nii-san.” Sasuke whispered to the monolith, gently rocking the baby, “She must have really wanted to meet you.”

#sasusaku #sarada #sakura #sasuke #uchiha #sasuke uchiha #sakura haruno #sarada uchiha #naruhina #naruto fanfiction #i'm not crying you're crying #itachi uchiha #i lost the baby #drabble

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dfroza · 3 years ago

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many people in this world have stood against our Creator’s truth.

just as Paul was opposed in ancient times in the message he shared.

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 25th chapter of the book of Acts:

Three days after arriving in the province, Festus traveled south from Caesarea to Jerusalem. The chief priests and Jewish leaders still had a plan to kill Paul and gave a report to Festus about their unresolved grievances against Paul. They suggested that as a favor to them, Festus should move Paul to Jerusalem. Of course, this was part of the plan to set an ambush for Paul and kill him en route. Festus instead offered to reopen the case. He would be going back to Caesarea soon.

Festus: So let your leaders accompany me, and bring your accusations against the man.

Eight or ten days later, Festus returned to Caesarea, and the next day he took his seat in court. He ordered Paul to be brought before him. The Jewish opponents from Jerusalem immediately surrounded Paul and from all directions bombarded him with all sorts of serious charges, none of which could be proven.

Paul (quietly and simply): In no way have I committed any offense against Jewish law, against the Jewish temple and all it represents, or against the emperor.

Here Festus saw an opportunity to do just the favor Paul’s Jewish opponents had requested.

Festus: Would you like to have your trial in Jerusalem? I’d be willing to try your case there.

Paul: If I had committed a capital offense, I would accept my punishment. But I’m sure it’s clear to you that I have done no wrong to the Jews. Since their charges against me are completely empty, it would be wrong to turn me over to them. No, I do not wish to go to Jerusalem. I am appealing to the court of the emperor in Rome.

Festus conferred privately with his council and returned with this decision:

Festus: You have appealed to the emperor, so to the emperor you will go.

Several days later, the provincial king Agrippa arrived in Caesarea with his wife Bernice to welcome the new governor. Their visit lasted several days, which gave Festus the chance to describe Paul’s case to the king.

Festus: Felix left me some unfinished business involving a prisoner named Paul. When I was in Jerusalem, I got an earful about him from the chief priests and Jewish elders. They wanted me simply to decide against him, but I informed them that we Romans don’t work that way. We don’t condemn a person accused of a crime unless the accusers present their case in person so the accused has ample opportunity to defend himself against the charge. I arranged for them to come here for a proper hearing. In fact, the first day after I returned to Caesarea, I took my seat in court and heard his case without delay. Contrary to my expectations, the accusers brought no substantial charges against him at all. Instead, they were bickering about their own religious beliefs related to a fellow named Jesus, who had died, but whom Paul claimed was raised to life again. I had no idea how to handle a religious squabble pretending to be a legal case, so I suggested Paul be taken to Jerusalem so he could be tried on Jewish turf, so to speak. But Paul refused, and instead he appealed to be kept in custody so the case could be referred to his Imperial Majesty. So I have held him until we can arrange to send him to the emperor.

Agrippa: This sounds interesting. I’d like to hear this fellow in person.

Festus: You will, then. We’ll bring him in tomorrow.

The next day, King Agrippa and Bernice arrived at the great hall with great formality, accompanied by the military commanders and the city’s leading men. Festus ordered Paul to be brought before them.

Festus: King Agrippa and all our honored guests, here is the man who has been charged with wrongdoing by the Jewish community—both in Jerusalem and here. They yelled for his execution, but I found him guilty of no capital offense. Then he appealed to our Imperial Majesty, so I have agreed that he will be sent to Rome. Here is where I need your help. I can’t send a man to our emperor without a letter logically detailing the charges against him, but I have no idea what to write. So, King Agrippa, and all of you honored guests, I’m requesting your help in determining what to write in my letter to the emperor.

The Book of Acts, Chapter 25 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 16th chapter of the book (scroll) of Isaiah that looks at Judgment against Moab and points to their idolatry, but also reveals hope in the coming King who is the Son:

A Refugee (to the Moabites): Bring tender lambs to the ruler of the land.

From Sela through the desert

to the beautiful mountain called Zion, maybe they’ll let us in.

And indeed like birds whose homes were demolished,

like baby birds torn from their nests,

Moab’s daughters, scattered and fluttering, arrive at the fords,

ready to cross the Arnon River.

(to Jerusalem) Give us your best advice and do what is right.

When the day is at its fiercest, hide us in your cool shade.

Shield the trammeled and abused.

Keep your mouth shut when our enemy comes looking, seeking us out.

Let these refugees of Moab come in and stay.

Protect these tempest-tossed; be their hiding place,

a shelter safe from the destroyer.

See, when the one who has squeezed and oppressed you is gone

and the forces of crushing violence wane in the land,

Then God will establish a royal throne, in loyal love—

the One who rules there will be utterly reliable,

With absolute integrity under the auspices of David.

With a passion for justice, He will be quick to decide and do what is right.

Oh yes, we’ve heard of Moab, how much they think of themselves—

so important, so valuable, so hot-tempered;

But we know it’s just idle boasts.

Let them bemoan their destruction and fall—every last one of them.

Go ahead, mourn, all you who were struck down;

Cry for the raisin cakes of Kir-hareseth.

The productive fields of Heshbon are withering in the heat;

the choice vines of Sibmah are decimated.

The rulers of the nations are wreaking havoc across the land,

crushing its grape clusters and leveling its old stout vines.

Moab’s tender shoots spread from Jazer to the desert,

then right down to the sea and even across it.

This is why I cry salty tears over Jazer,

over the vines of Sibmah and over the fields of Heshbon.

And God’s-Ascent, Elealeh, I weep for you—over your branches,

once so green and strong, now broken and brown with death.

No one rejoices anymore over your fruits and harvest.

What joy these fields and orchards brought, what pleasure and delight,

with their beauty, with their bounty.

But no more cheerful shouts accompany the harvest of the vineyards.

No one is left to press the grapes into wine.

I have silenced all your joyous shouting.

My heart hums like a harp with grief for you, Moab.

I ache with soul-sadness for Kir-hareseth.

When the people of Moab present themselves to their gods, when they weary themselves with frequent journeys to their high places, when they enter their sanctuary to pray, then they will find none of their gods are able to help them. This is the message the Eternal gave Isaiah earlier about Moab. But now He has another message.

Eternal One: In just three years—as a hired hand might count them—the power and prestige of Moab will come to an end. Its population will be killed and scattered; only a few, the poor and powerless, will survive the onslaught.

The Book of Isaiah, Chapter 16 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice Translation:

God’s answer to Moab’s plea for help is none other than the Messiah. One day David’s son will take the throne and rule with absolute justice.

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Thursday, june 24 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons that reveals our pure hope:

“Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you” (Psalm 73:25). Such is the “exile of hope” we suffer in this world... Torah begins: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth, and the earth was “tohu va’vohu v'choshekh” (תהוּ וָבהוּ וְחשֶׁךְ) - "confusion and emptiness and darkness" - which the sages interpret to mean that when we truly understand that God created the heavens and the earth, we will realize our earthy desires to be barren, empty and unreal.

In their despair, Plato and the early Greek philosophers sought “timeless universals” which they believed disclosed the reality of an “upper world,” a heavenly realm of unchanging goodness, beauty, and truth. The world we experience with our senses is a shadowy place of change and decay; but the real world, discerned by clear thinking, is a place of permanence, goodness and illumination. Likewise the righteous soul trusts that despite this fleeting world (העולם הנעלם) that turns to dust, there is an eternal realm (התחום הנצחי), a place of abiding love, and a heavenly home.

The land of promise is a “foreign land” to this world, but the heart of faith beholds “the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God” (Heb. 11:10). “For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come” (Heb. 13:14). Therefore “we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen; for the things that are seen are transient (πρόσκαιρος), but the things that are unseen are eternal. For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens” (2 Cor. 4:18-5:1). In this world we suffer exile, groaning to be with our Savior, the Source of all blessing: “I say to the LORD, "You are my Lord; I have no good apart from you" (Psalm 16:2). [Hebrew for Christians]

and a set of posts about the sovereignty of our Creator:

Among other things, our Torah reading this week (i.e., Balak) teaches that God can (and does) turn curses into blessings (see Neh. 13:2). There are many instances given in Scripture. For example, Joseph was blessed despite the ill-will of his brothers: "You devised evil against me, but God devised it for good" (Gen. 50:20). Note that the same verb for “devised” (i.e., chashav: חשׁב) is used to describe both the evil intent of the brothers and the good intent of the Lord. This teaches us that God overrules the malice of men to effect his own good purposes, and therefore we can rightfully affirm gam zu l'tovah (גם זו לטובה), "this too is for good" (Rom. 8:28). Underlying the surface appearance of life (chayei sha'ah) is a deeper reality (chayei olam) that is ultimately real, abiding, and designed for God's redemptive love to be fully expressed. Resist the temptation, therefore, to judge by mere appearances. Forbid your troubles (or the troubles of this world) to darken the eye of faith. Do not unjustly judge God's purposes or try to understand His ways. As the story of Balaam shows, God makes even the wrath of man praise Him (see Psalm 76:10). "Then God opened Balaam's eyes, and he saw the Angel of the LORD (מלאך יהוה) standing in the way, with his drawn sword in his hand. And he bowed down..." (Num. 22:31). Indeed, every knee will bow to the LORD our God and Savior (Isa. 45:22-23; Phil. 2:10-11).

We find comfort that the schemes of the wicked are ultimately subject to the sovereign purposes of the LORD our God. "Ein od milvado" (אין עוד מלבדו) - there is no power that can be exercised apart from God’s consent and overarching will... Indeed all authority on heaven and earth belongs to Yeshua, the “the Ruler of the Kings of the earth” (עֶלְיוֹן לְמַלְכֵי־אָרֶץ). As it is written, “All the nations you have made shall come and worship before you, O Lord, and shall glorify your name” (Psalm 86:9). Amen. Hashevenu, Adonai... [Hebrew for Christians]

In this week's Torah portion (i.e., Balak) we read an ancient prophecy of the coming Messiah: “a Star shall come out of Jacob...” Amazingly, the “meshugenah” prophet Balaam – who may have been the forebear of the “magi of the east” (Matt. 2:1-2) – actually foresaw the advent of the Messiah: “I see him, but not now; I behold him, but not near: a Star shall come out of Jacob (כוכב מיעקב), and a Ruler shall rise out of Israel” (Num. 24:17). Balaam’s prophecy actually described the coming of the Messiah and his reign in two distinct aspects: “A Star from Jacob shall come" (literally, "shall lead the way," i.e., דרך), which refers to our Messiah’s first coming as the way of life (i.e., הדרך החיים, John 14:6), “and a Ruler shall arise (i.e., וקם שׁבט) from Israel,” refers to our Messiah’s second coming to establish the Kingdom of Zion upon the final redemption. [Hebrew for Christians]

6.23.21 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

June 24, 2021

Prayer of the Whole Heart

“Then shall ye call upon me, and ye shall go and pray unto me, and I will hearken unto you. And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.” (Jeremiah 29:12-13)

There are many promises and instances of answered prayer in the Bible. Unfortunately, many of us really don’t seem to believe them and therefore don’t experience the answers to our prayers. Halfhearted praying may sometimes secure partial answers, but God exhorts us to pray wholeheartedly. “The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much” (James 5:16).

The principle is timeless and is stressed often in the Word. “Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and show thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not” (Jeremiah 33:3). God’s resources are unlimited, but our motives must be pure, and our prayers must be from the heart. “Let him ask in faith, nothing wavering” (James 1:6). “Ye ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume it upon your lusts” (James 4:3).

In addition to right motives and genuine faith, there must be deep sincerity as we pray from the heart. “Men ought always to pray, and not to faint” said Jesus (Luke 18:1), who Himself found it necessary to pray long and earnestly. “Rising up a great while before day, he...departed into a solitary place, and there prayed” (Mark 1:35).

The early church followed His teaching and example, and saw His blessing. “These all continued with one accord in prayer and supplication” (Acts 1:14). “And they continued stedfastly...in prayers” (Acts 2:42). “We will give ourselves continually to prayer” (Acts 6:4). Consequently, “the word of God increased; and the number of the disciples multiplied in Jerusalem greatly” (Acts 6:7). God is honored when we search for Him and pray to Him with all our hearts. HMM

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