#he’s pretty content with it so far (aka. it’s not shredded yet)
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got home from a day with my bestie. i’m cured!
#we went 2 petco and i met a pretty person with blue hair <3#i bought my honey boy a new toy since he demolishes all the other ones skdbsk#he’s pretty content with it so far (aka. it’s not shredded yet)#AND GOT HIM A LITTLE SQUEAKY ONE!!! he keeps doing the cute little press. jump back. head turn. press. thing#i got to hang out with my besties fiancé with was cool bc i never see him#anymore. we were all besties in highschool and now he has a Big Grown Up job and he’s literally never home#BUT IT WAS SO FUN. SO COOL#i really do feel so much better than i did this morning#maybe i just need more human interaction. maybe that’s what it is#ANYWAYS ! if mom finds out that dad had insurance on his loan for the truck that means that i get to keep it#+ can start a new job. which will help sooooooo much like fr#fingers crossed. butttttt not gonna get my hopes up#now i’m gonna shower and then hopefully finish the kiri fic <3#— txt.
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So there was just a post about how people could come to your inbox to ask random questuons about your fics and I just wanted to give it a go... How is Revka doing? And Zevran? What are you most excited about regarding their first meeting (aka the failed assassination)?
Bless you, my dear, for being interested and enabling me to ramble even more about my two favorite idiots. <3
I think it's safe to say that both Revka and Zevran are having A Time right now in their perspective POVs at the current moment.
Revka had known - at least to some extent - that her recruitment into the Wardens would come with her shouldering much more than she already had in her time living in the Alienage and raising Ceral. What little she knew of the Wardens prior to her recruitment was still enough to make her certain that she would be tasked with doing some... less than desirable things. Fighting and killing darkspawn was to be expected. Fighting and killing to protect herself or others was to be expected, if not completely accepted in her mind yet. But the run in with the villagers and her being forced to kill people who - while bigoted fools - in her mind should not have been made her enemy has rattled her quite thoroughly.
She's had her fair share of scraps and fights. It was all but a necessity in the Alienage given how desperation can push a person to do regrettable things. There had been at least a handful of times she'd had to defend herself from cut purses and thieves, once where a group of them had even broken into their home after their parents' deaths when they thought it had been left abandoned. She knows how to hurt someone and has done it countless times without remorse. But until Lothering that had been where it ended. With a broken nose or bruised ribs and egos. Going through for the first time in killing someone - a living someone, not a husk of a body turned into a monster - rattled her deeper than anything she's encountered.
And worst of it all, aside from the grief and the shock at having gone through with it, is the fact that she knows she should have known better. She's angry at herself for clinging to that last shred of naivety, and feels like if she'd not been foolish she could have been better prepared to handle the necessity of it when the time came.
But instead now she's not only let herself fall apart in the least opportune time, but been caught in the act by Alistair. She doesn't DO weakness in front of others, particularly those she knows depend on her, whether that be Ceral or now her fellow Warden. It's why she's so quick to snap herself back together in chapter 2 - because letting herself look like she doesn't have everything under control and in hand feels so much WORSE for her, even compared to processing the fact that she's responsible for a civilian's death.
As for Zevran - he's settled himself into a quiet, comfortable numbness. His decision is made, he knows what the likely outcome of his plan will be and awaits it eagerly. He's content enough to while away what little time he has left in Lucea's company (she's pretty enough, and quite willing - almost gratingly so) but finds no real joy in it. Sleep, when it comes, isn't restful, food and drink are unsatisfying. Truth be told the only time he feels any real spark of enjoyment or anticipation is when the next step in his plan comes to pass, or he sees some faint possibility at hurrying the process such as when Karrok makes his threats.
If he were in a better way, part of him might feel some small tinge of guilt at drawing the Black Maw mercenaries and Lucea into his suicide mission. But he made certain only to recruit those who were well aware of the risk that comes in attacking Wardens, and let them choose for themselves if the (very slim) chance of the price on their heads was worth the risk. They are their own people, after all, and not beholden to see this contract through as he is. Truth be told the only reason he made an attempt to recruit them at all is for the sake of appearances. If he had attempted the job alone, word of his foolishness would have inevitably gotten to the Masters and he would have been granted an entirely different and far less merciful end than what he believes waits at the hands of the Wardens.
He's tired. He's still grieving Rinna deeply, and the thought of continuing to live while she doesn't with the burden of his guilt is too much to consider - at least in his mind now. The only thing he wants now is a swift, clean death, all other consequences of it be damned.
And I am just, so looking forward to when both of these two meet with their state of minds where they are. There's going to come a point where Revka has Zevran beaten. He's in the dirt with his weapons lost, she's kneeling over him and he knows that this is it - she has the perfect opportunity, there's nothing keeping her from finishing him off and ending his misery... But it doesn't come. He's going to see her hesitate. He's going to know while looking up at her even as she presses her blade to his throat that she won't go through with it.
Because Revka - even fully aware this man came with the intent to kill her - can't do it. The second he's disarmed and it's clear she holds his life in her hands, her head jumps immediately back to Lothering. Back to what it felt like to slide her dagger into the farmer's ribs. And she can't go through with that again so soon. Not when she's still reeling from the first. She'll knock him out instead. Use the excuse of wanting information out of him. But she knows, and Zevran certainly knows that that isn't what stilled her hand.
That moment of him recognizing her inability to go through with killing him is going to open up some delicious character exploration between them. Particularly when Zevran is going to see that hesitation (even when it leads to his survival and eventual gratitude for it) as a weakness, and a contradictory one at that. How is it possible that this woman - this immovable, brutal and frankly vicious woman - struggles with something even the freshest Crow apprentice can see through without a second thought? It's going to pique his curiosity, at least a little. Enough to make him want to find the answer. Not to mention Revka's concerns over if allowing him to live and travel with them (even with precautions) is the right thing or as good as putting the knife in her own back, and her struggling with whether or not to answer his questions over her mercy truthfully or not. Especially when - unlike Alistair and the others - Zevran is unwilling to accept her lie about him being more useful alive than dead as the final word on the matter.
#heniareth#lilou answers#zevran arainai#revka tabris#zevka#your fire burns in my veins#lilou writes#:DDD Thank you for asking!!#I love a good excuse to ramble about their story hahaha#and apologies at least a little because that was. a LOT of rambling
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7 WIPs Meme
I was tagged by @aliatori to share some WIP snippets. Much to my surprise, I have far more WIPs than I thought, but not quite 7.
1. Suddenly, Ardyn/Ravus content out of left field
Ardyn sighed as he set his glass down, Ravus still frowning at him. He really should hold him at a greater length, especially given the inevitable steps in the empire’s (and his) plans, but the wine had already began to work its magic—a benefit of subsisting on a constantly empty stomach. “Did you miss my company that much?”
Ravus held his gaze for a beat, defiant, then dropped his eyes to the bottle. “It’s you or a cadre of MTs for company,” he said flatly as he poured himself a small amount, just a sip, really.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’ then.”
2. Can’t think of a better way to meet your SO than pulling an arrow out of his chest
Before he can ease the arrow out, the stranger grabs Ardyn’s bicep with his right hand, somehow having regained a shred of lucidity. Ardyn freezes at the strength and intensity of the stranger’s hot grasp on his arm and looks to find his amber, yet slightly unfocused, gaze on him. It’s not as if Ardyn has been deprived of another human’s touch entirely—his attendants and his brother being the sole sources of such stimulation—but he’s never been touched in such a way, with such a palpable need behind it. Ardyn finds his throat dry and tight but he forces himself to swallow.
“I need to pull it out,” he says, fighting with every bit of strength he has to keep his voice level. “Can you bear with me just a bit longer?” Ardyn has no idea if the stranger can understand him, let alone process what is happening to him, but he holds the stranger’s unfocused gaze. Ardyn does his best to radiate warmth and confidence, to gain his understandably cagey patient’s trust.
The stranger releases Ardyn’s arm as suddenly as he grabbed it. He squeezes his eyes shut and lays his head back against the rock. Ardyn can feel him try to relax his body underneath his touch, though there is an undeniably taut line of unease running through him.
“The others won’t be so bad,” Ardyn finds himself saying.
“Have you ever been hit by an arrow?” the stranger asks through gritted teeth, speech thickly accented but perfectly comprehensible.
Ardyn gapes slightly at the stranger’s words, warmth creeping over his face as he thinks of the inane things he was babbling just minutes ago to try and soothe the injured man. He wants to ask him so many questions—was he involved in the battle (yes)? Did he see anyone fitting Somnus’ description (likely)? Were he and his fellow fighters trying to kill him (most certainly)? But instead, Ardyn just stares wide-eyed at the behemoth beneath him and manages a simple “no.”
The stranger snorts in laughter. It’s one of the most undignified yet unbridled sounds Ardyn thinks he’s ever heard in his life. “They’re all bad.”
3. I still write Gladnis content... sometimes...
Ignis hopped/hobbled around the bend to the top of the rock with as much dignity as he could muster, which was really quite a lot. His vision seemed to blur and spin as he finally reached the top, and his balance faltered momentarily. Ignis was greeted by the sight of Noctis and Prompto in their fold-up camping chairs, already fiddling with their phones, as Gladio pounded the tent spikes into the sheer rock. Spitefully, Ignis would note. He was pounding the spikes in rather spitefully.
"Took ya long enough, Specs. What's for dinner?" Noctis didn't even bother to look up.
Ignis managed his nicest smile, his glasses catching the light from the campfire rendering his expression unreadable. He took another hop into the campsite, raised his chin as haughtily as he could, the light from the fire now catching the beads of sweat on his skin, giving him a manic look. He parted his lips to respond with “a lovely carpaccio using some of that trout you caught this morning,” but found the stars that appeared in his line of sight quite pretty and distracting instead.
"I'm afraid dinner is canceled tonight."
Noctis, Prompto, and even Gladio the gorilla managed to look up just as Ignis collapsed face first in a heap, dignity and his glasses snapping cruelly on the cold, unforgiving rock.
4. Just kidding, Ardyn/Big G is my true love
Though Ardyn had watched Gilgamesh loose countless arrows in the past, he demonstrated the proper form for Ardyn once more. Gilgamesh racked an arrow and, with seemingly little effort, drew it completely back and held it steady, explaining the finer points of his posture. Though Ardyn nodded at the explanation, Gilgamesh’s words fell on deaf ears, Ardyn’s eyes trailing over Gilgamesh’s taut biceps and down his back, wishing he could see the defined muscles of his back and shoulders, hidden by his tunic.
“Are you—are you even listening?” Gilgamesh asked, annoyed, eyeing Ardyn over his shoulder.
“I’m hanging on every word, I promise,” Ardyn replied, lips quirked into a smile.
5. After the first Scourge-sucking
“Stay,” he said with an urgency he didn’t know he had. “Don’t go. Please.” It made his insides churn at how pathetic he sounded, but he pleaded with Gilgamesh nonetheless.
Gilgamesh looked down at him, his expression a mix of pity and concern. All at once it felt like Gilgamesh was his last line to humanity, to goodness—if he walked away, the line would snap and Ardyn would be left to the demons crawling inside.
“Please.” Ardyn pushed himself up and out of the water, bracing himself on the sides of the tub, in his flurry his own nakedness forgotten. Every inch of him dripping and exposed, Ardyn felt that he really would cry if Gilgamesh rejected him now. He took a step toward Gilgamesh, the water lapping around knees, suddenly overcome with the need to touch him, to be held by him.
His head was swimming with doubt and shame, but nothing could stop Ardyn from taking another step closer. And then, everything shattered. Fat, hot tears bubbled over and dripped down Ardyn’s cheeks, his jaw quivered and he knew he’d lost it. A second later the flow of tears was unstoppable. Ardyn covered his face with his hands, he just wanted to sink back down into the water and disappear.
But Gilgamesh grabbed him before he could turn in on himself and held Ardyn upright, pulling him into a crushing embrace. It didn’t matter that Ardyn was sopping wet, that he was a crumbling, emotional mess, Gilgamesh held him tightly and resolutely, as the sobs wracked Ardyn’s body. In time Ardyn wrapped his arms around Gilgamesh’s back and buried his face into his neck.
6. Domestic shenanigans aka oops my hand slipped
Gilgamesh rode back around and slowed his gelding as he came back to Ardyn’s side, his grin infectious at that point.
“I don’t imagine you all sleep amongst the sheep?” Ardyn asked, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice.
“Oh, well some of the men have been known to lie with a sheep now and then,” Gilgamesh chuckled, “but most of us keep to the yurts.”
Ardyn stood up in the saddle, craning his neck to try and get sight of what could possibly be called a village or yurt, but saw nothing.
“Ah, you can’t see them from here,” Gilgamesh explained with a smile.
“Oh,” Ardyn said, lowering himself back into the saddle. “I thought you said this was home.”
“Wherever my people are is home,” Gilgamesh replied simply. “Come, there’s much to be done.”
Gilgamesh urged his horse on and Ardyn followed suit.
“Much to be done? Gilgamesh, what do you mean? Why did we come here?”
Gilgamesh turned back, his expression mocking innocence, like a child caught in the act of something naughty and trying to avoid punishment. “It’s shearing season.”
“I—What? We came here to shear sheep? All of these sheep?”
Gilgamesh blinked. “Yes. You’ll like it, trust me.”
Tagging @porcelainlovebug if you want to share!
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Cat People (1942)
“Moja sestra?”
A Serbian immigrant named Irena fears that any physical intimacy with a man will cause her to turn into a panther and kill them.
Fright: 1.4/5 Bus Stops
There’s a handful of scenes that are creepy in a suspenseful type of way, but it mostly plays on fears we already have: walking home alone and thinking you’re being followed, fear of someone in a position of power trying to take advantage of you, etc. And at the end of the night, it is a film from the 1940s; those old scares just don’t quite have the same impact these days.
Gore: 1/5 Shredded Robes
There’s a scene where you briefly see a panther at the zoo gnawing on a cut of raw meat, but that’s as bad as it gets. It’s mostly just shadows doing shadowy deeds, spooky growling noises coming from the dark, and the rare dead body (aka a person just laying on the ground and not moving).
Jump Scares: Almost none
There’s pretty much just one jump scare in the whole movie and even that’s pretty tame by today’s standards. However, that jump is rather notable as being perhaps the first true cinematic jump scare.
[a 1/5 on “Where’s the Jump?”]
Review:
The way I see it there are two way to view this movie:
1) As a slow-paced, but very well made bit of 1940s horror.
OR as a well made and slightly offbeat bit of 1940s horror that serves as a fascinating look at the dangers heteronormativity presents to queer people.
If you take option 1 you’ll probably appreciate the craftsmanship, but—like a lot of old black&white horror—some might find the pacing a bit slow and wish there was more action. However, if you take option #2 I think you’ll find it to be a rather intriguing film with real thematic depth.
Thoughts:
I hate to say it, but the 1940’s were not a great decade for spooky movies (even more so when you look at how strong the 30’s were). And yet, unlike its contemporaries, Cat People reaches for new ground and artistry...and actually delivers!
Dare I say it? Best spooky movie of the 1940s?
The first time I saw Cat People I liked it well enough, but it confounded me a little. From the premise I was expecting something a lot more supernatural, but it generally sticks to a sort of psychological suspense. And while it has some fabulous scenes of spooky suspense, some of the character drama fell a bit flat for me. The problem was that Irena is the most interesting character by far (with Alice coming in at #2). The other characters generally aren’t given enough depth to be all that intriguing.
For example Irena’s “romantic” interest (Oliver) is particularly boring. He is just about the whitest dude imaginable: super privileged, cluelessly insensitive to/uninterested in other cultures, has a way of always turning conversations back to himself, always ordering apple pie, etc.. Really, the list could go on. The dude is so milquetoast that he even refers to himself as a “good, plain Americano.” I mean, I can appreciate why Irena doesn’t want to kiss this dude.
But after rewatching it I’ve gotta admit there’s a lot of interesting stuff going on that I didn’t pick up on on my first watch. On the DVD there was a commentary track from a film historian by the name of Gregory Mark and he brings up an idea that I had missed: that there’s actually a queer angle you can take with the film:
“Now as for that Lesbiana-tinge, well, DeWitt [the film’s writer] told me that he actually intended for the inference. He said Irena’s fears about destroying a lover if she kissed him could be because she was really a lesbian who loathed being kissed by a man.”
And once you open yourself up to a queer reading of the film? I tell you what, it suddenly becomes WAY more interesting! The idea of Irena’s fear of being a “cat person” as a metaphor for her being queer works on a number of levels. The lesbian angle is the most apparent, but as an asexual there’s a lot here that I really related to as well and it wouldn’t be hard to make a case that she is a sex-averse, but potentially (bi)romantically-inclined asexual.
Whatever queer lens you want to use, Irena is conflicted and depressed because she sees herself as broken. Her society and her religion say that who she is is wrong and/or evil, but she can’t seem to change. She frequently mentions that she wishes she could be normal and that she’s ashamed and embarrassed that she isn’t. Her marriage to Oliver can easily be seen as a her attempt to try force herself to be different, because here’s this super-normal, white-bread nice guy who likes her...she’s supposed to be able to return his affections, right? And yet she can’t, so she just fakes it and hopes that things will eventually click. But it doesn’t and nothing she tries seems to work and the potential “cures” of religion and 1940’s psychiatry both try to enforce the idea that her feelings are amoral and wrong.
But obviously she isn’t broken. Her cat-person nature is a natural and primal part of her that she can’t control. The movie uses a panther at the local zoo as an external representation of this aspect. Throughout the movie she mentions that she’s drawn to zoo again and again to see it, feed it, and even harbors a desire to let it out of its cage.
I don’t want to spoil anything, so I won’t go into anything specific, but suffice it to say that this reading has some major bones.
It might be a bit too slow-paced for those looking for a night of thrills and chills, but its low levels of scares and gore do make it a very accessible film to viewers of all different tolerance levels. If you ever find yourself in the mood for something quiet and deep with a supernatural edge and an old-school flare, then look no further.
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Directed by: Jacques Tourneur
Written by: DeWitt Bodeen
Country of Origin: USA
Language: English
Setting: New York City, New York, USA
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Content Warnings: A couple of animals are accidentally killed, sexual harassment, main character struggles with self-image and depression-like symptoms.
After-credits Scene?: None
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“I envy every woman I see on the street.” “They can’t match your little finger.” “I envy them. They’re happy.”
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