#she really does live in voyagers walls

[nonbinoclard]

>>> TUNES TO LOSE YOUR MIND TO <<<

KEEP IN MIND: This is a living playlist! Songs may be added and removed at times to further curate the vibe I'm going for. I'll try to keep this post updated, but you can just check out the link for an up-to-date track list.

(EDIT: Song discussions are not finished! I have a lot more to say. I'll reblog when I've updated.)

This is set in a sort of nebulous time between Harry's life right before Martinaise and the night before he lost his memory. I wanted this playlist to feel erratic-- full of manic energy one second, then slow and bleak the next, dreamy, unreal, then right back to ridiculous.

(In no particular order. Shuffle for full emotional whiplash effect.)

I Don't Like My Mind - Mitski

I don't like my mind, I don't like being left alone in a room [...] And then I get sick and throw up and there's another memory that gets stuck / Inside the walls of my skull waiting for its turn to talk / And it may be a few years, but you can bet it's there, waiting still

The days before cleaning out the rooms... also, eating an entire cake and throwing it all up again feels very harry-esque... Overindulgence

A whole cake, so please don't take / Take this job from me

End Of The World - Hether

I mean, I could just post the entire set of lyrics as evidence, tbh. Struggling to find meaning and purpose in his life in the wake of heartbreak (5 year old heartbreak, but who's counting anyway)

I wake up in the morning and I wonder / Why everything's the same as it was I can't understand / No I can't understand / How life goes on the way it does

Cane Shuga - Glass Animals

Baby, don't go / I'll stop breathing coke / No more bloody nose / No more John Does Burn through my love / Just like your drugs / I've had quite enough / Or lack thereof

This is about the last moments of Harry and Dora's relationship to me. The chorus (a kind of circular, endless, self-aggrandizing internal monologue likely fueled by stimulants, implied in the song) continuing after the second verse kind of reflects the solution for Lonesome Long Way Home.

"11 Voyager Road. You no longer live there. Those times are gone, and so are those people. Why did you come here? Why are you still here? And where’s the dealer? You have to get back to work. That’s all you have now."

Hot Venom - Miniature Tigers

Hot venom is mixing with my blood / I can feel it on my fingers and taste it on her tongue / It feels so good to fall in love with you

I've heard a lot of people say this song is about heroin addiction, which is thematically appropriate for this playlist, but also. Harry's unhealthy obsession with Dora/Dolores Dei. Adoration (and hatred) so strong it's killing him.

Her venom makes me strong / Stronger than I am on my own / Before too long, I'll wake up to it gone / Wondering how I ever was happy [...] You can't go back now; that's not how this works / And as long as she's gone, I can never be happy

Who Is She ? - I Monster

This is just straight up about Harry's recurring dream to me. Just. Gestures at the lyrics.

Oh, who is she? / A misty memory / A haunting face / Is she a lost embrace? Am I in love with just a theme? / Or is Ayesha just a dream?

I feel like it falls in line really well with the idea that Harry's mind has been affected by the Pale-- a lack of memory, or maybe mixed memories, in a misty haze beyond the boundaries of reality. (and maybe Dolores Dei has started haunting him via Pale? Like some theories I've read.)

Somewhere across the sea of time / A love immortal such as mine Will come to me / Eternally

I Don't Miss You at All - FINNEAS

Dummy - Portugal. The Man

F the World - The Northern Boys

You Stupid Bitch - Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV Show)

These shards are a metaphor for my soul Won't stop the self-pity 'cause I'm on a roll

This song perfectly captures the inherent melodrama of a mental downward spiral imo. Catastrophic and all-encompassing. This is what I think it sounds like in there (Harry's head).

You ruined everything / You stupid bitch / You ruined everything / You stupid, stupid bitch / You're just a lying little bitch who ruins things / And wants the world to burn / Bitch / You're a stupid bitch / And lose some weight

Oleander - Mother Mother

Intermission - Scissor Sisters

Skit #2 - Kanye West

Self explanatory. He's got no money. He's got no clothes. He has no car and he has no hoes.

We broke, broke broke phi broke We ain't got it Broke, broke, broke phi broke We ain't got it Don't spend no money, ain't got no clothes Ain't got no cars, ain't got no hoes

Nobody - Mitski

My God, I'm so lonely, so I open the window To hear sounds of people, to hear sounds of people

This one is more about the feeling of the song itself rather than the lyrics specifically; I love the upbeat tempo that continues through the song (trying to remain steady, continue working), how the beat is simple at first then builds into a kaleidoscope of sound by the end of the track (overwhelmed by the world), then ending in a distorted loop (trapped in a cycle). This song has always felt really authentic to my own experience with mental spirals. The themes of loneliness tie it all into a nice bow.

I'm A Broken Heart - the bird and the bee

Not Allowed - TV Girl

Party Time - The Northern Boys

Comfortably Numb - Scissor Sisters

(Do The) Act Like You Never Met Me - TV Girl

Novocaine For The Soul - Eels

Basket Case - Green Day

Do you have the time / to listen to me whine About nothing and everything all at once? I am one of those melodramatic fools / Neurotic to the bone, no doubt about it

I just think this one fits him well during Martinaise... just shaken up and unloading trauma onto unsuspecting strangers like a can of soda (bad analogy lol), depending on the dialogue you choose.

I went to a shrink to analyze my dreams She says it's lack of sex that's bringing me down I went to a whore, she said my life's a bore So quit my whining 'cause it's bringing her down

Sometimes, I give myself the creeps / Sometimes, my mind plays tricks on me It all keeps adding up / I think I'm cracking up Am I just paranoid, or am I stoned?

Also it's just a little pathetic, which just... it fits. Sorry Harry.

Labyrinth - Miracle Musical

[vanfleeter]

Bound for Earth: Chapter 3

Characters: Jake Kiszka, Josh Kiszka, Marlie (Star) Warnings: 18+ || Language. Fluff. Crush. Admitting feelings. A little bit of flirting, if you squint. More brotherly antics. Angst. Frustration. Secrets. Allusion to anxiety. Smut. Allusions to masturbation. Allusions to sex.

Bound For Earth Masterlist

Shoving Josh against the wall of the corridor, I run off into the common room and hastily greeting people as I fly by. No way am I letting Josh touch my bacon. I did call it a luxury after all. Making it up to the breakfast line, Josh appears beside me and shoves me off to the side. I shove back and we continue on with it until we’re both on the floor and wrestling each other.

“Enough you two,” I hear the robotic voice of Marvin call as he glides across the floor. “There is plenty of food for everyone.”

“Relax, Marv,” Josh says as he shoves against the tile flooring and stands to his feet. “We’re only playing around.”

“Yes well, one of these days your “playing around” will cause bodily harm..again.”

Josh holds out his hand to me and I grab hold of it. He pulls me back to my feet and fixes my hair. I swat his hands away and straighten out my clothes.

“Good morning boys,” Moira says as she hands over the bacon to put it on our trays. “How’s everything working out with the launch tomorrow?” She asks, looking at me.

“Everything looks very promising,” I say. Little does anyone know that I have a plan up my sleeve–although Josh might know. “I’ve been double checking all of the codes and such, it all looks good.”

“I cannot wait.. I’m supposed to be on that trip. I’ve been missing my daughter.”

I can’t help the smile that forms on my face. “You’ll be seeing her soon enough.” And I will be seeing Earth soon enough, if everything works out accordingly.

Taking our food and going over to an empty table, Josh sits across from me and nudges my shin with the toe of his boot. I look up at him and he cocks a brow. “This launch has to go off without a hitch,” He says.

“I know, and it will.”

“Jake, I swear to God–”

“Keep your trap shut.”

“At least take me with you,” He whispers. I shake my head and he rolls his eyes. “Come on, please?”

“You were so against this, and now all of a sudden you want to go?”

“I can’t let you experience Earth without me.”

“I’ll figure something out.”

Josh grins wickedly and happily chews on his bacon. “I really want to try waffles. You’ve had me thinking about those.”

I scoff, shaking my head. “Don’t make me regret this.”

For the rest of the day, I worked on finishing the coding for the launch while adding a couple extra spots on the cruiser. Fingers crossed no one will notice. All I know now is that I won’t have a use for Charles’ badge. I quickly toss into the incinerator before getting started on forging different ones. Since Josh decided he wanted to join me, I’ve had to come up with a plan B. So that means recreating badges from two crew members staying here in the station. We’ll be able to take their spots on the cruiser and once the launch is complete, no one can do anything. Can’t exactly turn that thing around like it’s a bus, doesn’t work that way.

My computer beeps and I look up at the screen. A smile spreads across my face.

Star: Changed your mind yet?

Setting the files off to the side, I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose and click on the message to respond.

Voyager: About telling you my last name?

Star: Yes.

Star: Why won’t you tell me?

Star: Are you in the Witness Protection Program or something?

I laugh, throwing my head back.

Voyager: No.

Star: So then why won’t you tell me?

Star: I tried looking for any and all ‘Jake’s in Texas and I don’t know which one is you. Are you a farmer? A bar owner? A teacher? A gigolo?

Voyager: Never thought of being a gigolo.Voyager: I’ll just tell you that I don’t live in Texas.

Star: Oh?

Star: Then where?

Voyager: You’d never guess.

Star: Try me..Star: Do you at least live in the US?

Voyager: I do have dual citizenship, but currently? No, I do not live in the US. But soon..

Star: You are killing me.

Voyager: Don’t you live in Texas?

Star: You already know that.Star: Are you really that afraid of telling me who you are?

Voyager: Afraid? No. Nervous? Yes.

Voyager: You wouldn’t believe me.

Star: Jake…

Voyager: Marlie..

Voyager: I do want you to know that I’ll be radio silent for a while.

Star: Why?

Star: How long?

Voyager: Six to eight months, give or take.

Star: Are you a fugitive?

Voyager: Nothing illegal..

Voyager: I think..

Star: You think?

Voyager: I’m taking a trip with my brother and we won't have much contact.

Star: Will you message me when you get to wherever you’re going?

Voyager: Why don’t I just come see you?

My heart races in my chest. Do I really want to do that?

Star: You want to come see me?

Voyager: Yes. If that’s okay.

I mentally cross my fingers as I wait for her response to come through. My heart still races and I swear I feel sweat starting to perspire on my forehead. I’m nervous over a woman I’ve never even met. Is that what having a crush feels like? Does she even feel the same way about me?

Her message pops up and I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face.

Star: Of course it is.

Star: Call me when you make it in from your trip.

Star: 214-555-5501

I quickly scramble to find a blank sheet of paper and snatch up a pen to quickly write down her number.

Star: When do you leave?

Voyager: Tomorrow.

Star: So soon.

Star: Whatever will I do without getting to talk to you every day?

I chuckle, chewing on the end of the pen.

Voyager: You’ll survive.

Star: I hate you.

Voyager: I love you.

Wait what? My eyes shoot up to the screen. Oh god. I told her I love her? Jake, you idiot. I barely know her. I mean sure we’ve been talking for months now but I don’t love her. Do I?

A couple minutes went by as I waited for her response. My eyes are glued to the screen, my heart racing, and my palms starting to sweat. Suddenly the bubble appears as she types out a response but then it disappears. A couple more minutes go by and she still doesn’t respond. Fuck, I definitely screwed this up.

Standing up from my desk chair, I drop the pen on the desk and pace back and forth. She hasn’t logged off yet, but she hasn’t responded. My heart still races in my chest. I flex my fists, open and close, while I wait. The computer beeps and I freeze. Looking over at the screen I see that she’s sending a video chat request.

Crap..

Sitting back down in the chair, I grab the mouse in my hand. The cursor hovers over the accept button. Just do it and get it over with. Suddenly I’m clicking the accept button and she appears on the screen. Her eyes grow wide when she sees me. Her eyes. They are brown, a similar shade like me and they are beautiful. Her hair is a dark brown, almost black and it’s long enough to drape over her shoulders and down her chest. She may be dressed in only a gray sweat suit but she still looks beautiful.

Wow.

I definitely am crushing on her.

“Jake?”

I awkwardly wave. “It’s me.”

“You’re.. Oh my god.. You’re..him.”

“Define ‘him’,” I say as I lean forward on the desk.

“T-The space guy. You were born on Mars.”

“That would be me.”

“And your brother.” I nod my head and I watch as she leans back. “This.. This is not what I was expecting.”

I chuckle and slide off my glasses and I set them aside. “What were you expecting? A gigolo?”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “That was a joke.” I crack a smile. “So this trip.. Are you coming here? To Earth?”

“I’m going to try.” I say. “A lot is riding on this..”

“Is Josh coming?”

“Unfortunately..”

She giggles and the sound alone makes me feel warm. Her voice is sweet too. I don’t really have anything to compare it to, except for maybe a 1950s romance movie. “Do you not want him to come with you?”

“No, of course I do,” I say. “Just kind of stresses me out. Somehow I have to sneak us onto the cruiser.”

“How good is your stealth?”

“Umm… Not good..” I say, thinking back on getting caught driving the ATV. I don’t stop the smirk and she giggles again.

“So about what you said..”

“Oh uh–” I stammer, averting my eyes to the many files spread out on the desk before me. “That uh–that slipped..” When I finally looked back up at the screen, she had a small smile.

“You know.. There’s no shame in admitting it,” She says.

“Not too fast?” I ask, and she shakes her head.

“I might feel the same way.”

“Might?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “Guess you’ll definitely have to come here and find out.”

“Guess I will.”

I can hear voices in the background and she looks upwards before looking back at me. “I have to go, but I’ll see you when you get here. Don’t lose my number and call me when you get here.” She leans forward, her hand resting at the top of her screen. “It was nice to finally see your face.” She gives me a small wave with her other hand before the screen glitches and goes black.

Leaning back in my chair, I can’t fight the smile as it comes back in full force. I’ve only ever dreamed of this when watching movies. I never thought that I’d actually be experiencing it. I want to go to Earth now to see her again, and she can help me do everything that I’ve always been wanting. She can help me feel normal.

–

“You’re sure this is going to work?” Josh says as I hand him his helmet and the badge. He flips it over and stares at it in confusion. “Roger Flint?” He says. “Seriously? I get the guy who vomits every time he goes through the simulator?”

“You aren’t him, you’re just using it to get on board.”

“But he isn’t even meant to be on this trip.”

“He is now.” I smirk. “Now come on, we have to get on there before the others.”

Swiping the badges through the scanner, the light turns green for both of us and the doors slide open to the corridor that leads to the cruiser. We put on our helmets and help each other click them into place. I press the button that opens the sliding doors of the cruiser and we get inside. I turn to look at Josh once we’re inside and I nod my head towards the back row of seats in the cabin. Once the cruiser is in a stable position, everyone on board will be able to move freely about the big, metal pod.

Taking our seats in the back row, we buckle ourselves in and await the arrival of the others. The shields on the helmets are dark enough that no one will be able to tell that it's us. Seeing Josh move beside me, I turn my head and I see him holding his hand out to me. I reach over and hold tightly to his hand.

Step One: Board the cruiser - Check.

Soon the others were beginning to board the cruiser and buckling themselves into their seats. I quickly let go of Josh’s hand and relax back into the seat.

You can do this.

“Artemis 052, are you ready?”

“Ready,” The captain speaks. Rollin Wayne. He’s been the captain of this cruiser for the last twenty years, almost our entire lives.

“Everyone is on board, you are clear for liftoff.”

I look over at Josh and he’s tapping his fingers in a rhythmic pattern on the arm of the seat. He’s nervous. As he should be. I can’t blame him, because so am I. This is the first time doing this, we don’t know what to expect.

The cruiser begins to violently shake as it begins to detach from the station and I grip tightly to the arms of the seat.

Breathe.

Remember to breathe.

In.

Out.

Slowly.

You’ve worked for this. You didn’t do all those training sessions for nothing.

“Takeoff commences in ten…”

Breathe in.

“Nine…”

Breathe out.

“Eight…”

In.

“Seven…”

Out.

“Six… Five… Four… Three… Two… One…”

I’m being pressed into the seat, tighter than I ever expected it to be. I need to keep breathing. You can do it. Even if it’s difficult, keep breathing. The brightness of the sun fills the cabin of the cruiser and I close my eyes. Focus on your breathing. It won’t be long until the cruiser stabilizes.

The shaking and the pressure, it’s too much. My heart is pounding in my chest and my suit feels so tight against my chest. I can’t turn my head, nor can I move any part of my body. I can’t see Josh so I can’t see what he must be going through.

Keep breathing. We’re almost free.

Soon the pressure decreases and I can finally breathe normally and I can move. I turn to face Josh and he turns to face me. I can see a glimpse of his face through his mask as the sun still shines in the cabin. Relief shows in his eyes, yet he also looks excited. That glimmer of hope shines in his eyes.

We’re doing this. We actually made it off Mars. We’re going to Earth.

“You are now free to roam the cabin.”

Josh glances at me and I nod my head towards the door that leads to the back of the cruiser. We don’t want to be noticed right away so we have to be careful when making our way back there. Unbuckling ourselves, the two of us cautiously move–or more like float–towards one of the sides of the cruiser to look out the window.

The sun was brightly shining off in the distance while stars were passing by. They look a lot different from a closer view. Not as pretty as they are viewing them from the ground.

“Helmets may now be removed.”

Josh and I both look at each other. Here goes nothing. We each unhook our helmets from our suits before sliding them off. Once they’re removed, we’re throwing our arms around each other. We might get caught but that doesn’t matter right now. We made it off Mars and we’re headed for Earth. I’m headed to Earth.

“Oh my god..” Pulling apart from each other, we look behind us to see Rollin.

“Oh hey Rollin!” Josh beams, trying to act innocent. “Excited to be going back to Earth?”

“How in the world did you two get on here?” He says. His eyes move to look at me and I wave. “You… Your brain is a dangerous thing.. Jake, you know you two shouldn't be here!”

“Rollin, please..” I beg as I step up to him. “Please, please don’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t tell anyone? Are you insane?”

“Rollin, please?”

“This could be dangerous, Jake, and I do not want to be responsible if something were to go wrong.”

“Do not say anything, please. Or so help me God I will make sure you don’t come back up here.”

“You’re threatening me?” Rollin laughs. “Listen here, boy–you,” He stabs his finger into my chest as he speaks. “Have absolutely no control over me. Got it? They will figure out that you aren’t back at the station and when they do, they will come asking. I cannot lie. This is dangerous and you know it.”

I roll my eyes. “How do we know? Huh? How would we know if we don’t at least try? After all, we are your guinea pigs.”

“Oh quit with the guinea pig shit… You are not–”

“No? Then why the fuck do we have to wear these monitors? Hmm? Why do we get tested every other week? They want to know if we can survive because if we do, they’ll give the okay that humans can live and populate on the god forsaken planet. No one truly cares about our wellbeing, they just want answers to their questions.”

Rollin sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “If anything happens to either of you, it is on you and not me.” He starts to move away but stops and turns back around. “And another thing.. When we land, you two will be kept at Headquarters. They will not let you leave until the next transport is ready to make the trip back to Mars. So enjoy your freedom for now, because it won’t last long.”

-

It didn’t take long before we were discovered to not be at the station anymore. By midday, the following day, the cruiser is being contacted. Josh and I were still asleep inside our shared sleeping quarters when we were called back into the seating area. Pulling ourselves along the corridor, we step into the room and Rollin is waving us over. As soon as we make it over we’re met with our mother glaring at us from a holographic screen.

“I should have known..” She says as soon as she sees us. “Jacob, I’m not surprised, but you Joshua? Did he make you do it?”

“You’d be pleasantly surprised to know that I made the decision on my own.” Josh says. Mom gives him a disapproving look and he awkwardly smiles. “Okay, maybe not pleasant..”

“This has got to be the most irresponsible thing you have ever done, Jacob.” Mom says. “You are risking your life as well as your brother’s!”

“I think we’re doing pretty well so far,” I say. “Come on, Mom. Think of this as the ultimate experiment. Can humans who are born on Mars survive on Earth?”

“This isn’t funny, Jacob.”

“I’m not laughing, Mom, I’m serious.”

“And I’m serious too! This is dangerous..”

I can’t help but to roll my eyes. “Everything we do is dangerous it seems. We’ll be safe, I promise. We won’t do anything that’s strenuous. And besides, we’ll get to see Dad in person.”

Mom’s eyes grow wide. “Wh-What? Y-You’re gonna go see your father?”

My eyebrows crease and I look at Josh. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t we?”

“Uh well, you can’t.”

“Why not?”

“He’s… He’s on a trip.. He won’t be home.”

“Okay? Then we’ll wait until he gets back.” I say shrugging my shoulders. “And while we do, I’ll be off doing other things.”

“You are not leaving Headquarters.”

“I am leaving headquarters when we land and after the initial twenty-four hour hold. You can’t keep me prisoner..” I hit the blue button beside the hologram and it disappears. Josh looks at me in bewilderment. He’s never seen me stand up to our mother before, because quite frankly I never have. Sure I get a little crabby with her but not once have I done anything like that with her. “What?”

Josh shakes his head. “Nothing, nothing..” A smile starts to form on his face. I can’t help but to smile back and he laughs. “We are so fucked when we get back..”

I shrug my shoulders and push off the table, allowing myself to float off through the room. “We’ll deal with that when we come to it.”

–

“I got us food,” Josh says as he pulls himself into our sleeping quarters.

“Be careful opening the milk.” I say.

“Why?” Josh says as he proceeds to break the seal on the bag. A stream of milk starts flowing out of the bag and floating in the air.

“That’s why..” I say. “You need to connect a closable straw to the bag.”

“Ohhh, so that’s what this thing is,” He says, holding up a plastic tube. “I thought it looked a little odd.” I roll my eyes and take my food.

Suddenly he’s pushing off the wall and circling around the floating stream of milk. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Drinking the milk,” He says before opening his mouth and sucking in the stream of milk.

“You’re insane..”

“But it worked,” He winks with a laugh. “So.. What are you going to do first after the twenty-four hour hold? Or who?” He winks. I look at him oddly and he laughs. “What? I haven’t forgotten about Star..” He smirks. “Oh no, excuse me.. Marlie..” He rolls his eyes.

“I have to call her first when we get there. I have no idea where she lives.”

“And then when you do.. Are you gonna…” He wags his eyebrows and I shove him over. “Come on, I know what you do when you’re alone.”

“Are you spying on me?! You freak..”

He laughs and shakes his head. “No.. But you’re not exactly quiet.. I can hear you when I walk by your cabin. I’m pretty sure anyone could..”

“Can we stop talking about this?” I say. “But so what if I do…do that?”

“You might potentially have a kid on Earth..” He says nonchalantly. When I turn my head to look at him, I can see a smirk grow on his face and he looks at me from the corner of his eye. “Use protection, mmkay?” He pops a piece of dried bacon into his mouth. “I know we haven’t needed it, but if it happens while we’re down there, I’d prefer that we were safe.”

“Great talk, Dad.”

Josh chuckles and pops another piece of bacon into his mouth. “Start eating before I take it for myself.”

______________________________________________________________

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[erikmodi]

Serious question: How big a role does sexism really play?

So, it's that part where the backward Victorian sexist thinking makes everything worse and nearly gets Mina killed.

But does it really?

Yes, the decision to exclude Mina is bad, and the men should feel bad. Her intelligence is at least as useful to them as Van Helsing's, possibly more (she spots several important connections everyone else missed). But would keeping her in the loop have prevented Dracula from coming after her?

Now, certainly, if they hadn't left her "alone" (not quite, lots of people in Seward's home with her) while they went to Carfax, Dracula wouldn't have had an opening to attack her. But, even without the Victorian sexist attitude, why would they have brought her? Let's look at The Party:

Quincey Morris: Our rootin' tootin' shootin' Texan cowboy. Obviously bring him along, he's The Big Guy, necessary if any violence needs accomplishing.

Arthur Holmwood: Implied to have shared adventures with Quincey, so also physically capable, and brought the counter to Drac's rat problem.

Jack Seward: Medical man, doesn't seem like the physical type, yet Jon praises his steady surgeon's hands for basically picking the lock to Drac's house, he also shared in adventures with Quincey and Art, and laid Renfield out with one punch. Stouter than he seems.

Jonathan Harker: Our nerdy lawyer friend, who free-climbed a castle wall three times, and escaped a vampire den and lived.

Van Helsing: Older gentleman, not a physical type like everyone else, but his knowledge of vampires and open mind are necessary, as he might see clues the others don't know to look for.

Mina Harker: Brilliant by any standard, but lacking any specific focus.

So, in this night voyage, was there any reason to bring Mina along? Would it have benefitted at all, aside from removing her from Dracula's path (which they had no way of knowing). Mina is an excellent support character, but regardless of gender, you don't put your support character in harm's way. Taking gender out of the equation-- if, say, Mina was Mike, Jon's even nerdier brother-- Mike's not needed here, and it's safer for everyone if he stays behind.

I am in no way arguing "sexism is right" or anything like that. I'm just not sure it plays as much a role in this move and countermove in the "chess game" between Dracula and our heroes as people are making out. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Am I reading this wrong? Do you have counter-arguments for why them not informing Mina led to Dracula attacking her, or why they should have taken her to Carfax? Please, let us discuss.

[terapsina]

Kathryn Janeway/Chakotay. Post-Voyager, return home. (If you’ve seen Prodigy pre-Prodigy before Chakotay receives his commission as Captain. If you’re up to it, lightly touching on the Chakotay and Seven of it all? Seven might have left for the Rangers at this point. It’s alright if that’s too much of a prompt!)

(okay, this will take place closer to Post-Voyager era than Pre-Prodigy era but does take place inside that frame of time. Also, I couldn't find any specific dates about when exactly Seven joined the Rangers so let's just assume here that it happened pretty soon after they returned home (for various reasons but mostly because I think Seven would have grown restless pretty quickly and also because I just can't imagine she and Chakotay lasted very long at all)).

-

ao3

-

Chakotay and Kathryn were fine.

Completely fine. In comparison to the seven years aboard Voyager where they stayed at the constant edge of destruction, with the threat of losing all the souls aboard the ship that they were responsible for constantly biting at their heels, they were more than fine now.

They met for weekly dinners. They no longer argued because of the stress of their positions; because all they'd sacrificed of themselves had hollowed them out into a Captain and a First Officer and very little else. The frost that had grown in the cracks of their friendship had thawed during this past year home. They were sharing jokes again and enjoyed perfectly pleasant conversations in each other's company.

They discussed how their weeks had gone; and how Kathryn and him were adjusting to being home again. They talked about their sisters and shared whatever news they'd heard from the crew lately. Talked about the latest antics of Kathryn's two dogs - both the grand-pups of the Irish Setter she'd left behind on Earth when she'd been ordered to capture Chakotay an eternity ago. Mollie herself had lived only two months past the Voyager's return, Chakotay's heart still twinged remembering the way Kathryn had tried to keep up a strong face when she'd told him about the dog's passing.

They were fine. Really, they were better than they'd been in a really long time now.

Chakotay should have been happy about it, - and admittedly there was the relief that he hadn't lost Kathryn entirely. Their return to the Alpha Quadrant had given him his best friend back and...

...and Chakotay was miserable.

"You remember I told you how the voice reader for the replicator broke last week and I had to put it on manual? Well, Faba figured out this morning how to make the cursed thing spit out the last meal programmed in there, when I got home from Starfleet Command the entire kitchen floor was covered in dog food. You can't imagine the guilty looks on her and Capulus when they saw me." Kathryn's eyes danced with amusement as she took a sip of wine from her glass.

Chakotay's own lips pulled up at the corners, the initial moment entirely genuine because when Kathryn Janeway smiled the entire room brightened.

But the smile fell away a moment too quickly and ever observant, Kathryn noticed. "I'm sorry, Chakotay, I'm hogging the conversation this evening. You seem to have something on your mind?"

"No," he said, forcing forward another smile, hoping this one would better disguise his melancholy mood. "It's simply been a long week, I'm just tired, I think."

He saw Kathryn's eyes go to the timepiece hanging on the wall behind him and cursed himself for the chosen excuse. He didn't intend to make her think he was too tired for her company.

"It is getting late, I suppose I'll see you next week. Same time? Or do you have plans?" At the beginning of their post-return dinners, Chakotay had tried to read some kind of tightness in Kathryn's voice when she asked about his plans. Selfishly hoping for a sign that their implied existence might bother her, that there still existed traces of the feelings that years ago he'd been certain were there. But there was never anything except polite curiosity.

He was starting to suspect that whatever potential had been there had been destroyed by his stupidity and the very badly timed mid-life crisis that had tripped him just before the finish line.

"No plans," he told her and did his very best not to inquire after her own. He knew his question would be full of the unvoiced things lacking in hers.

"Speaking of, have you heard from Seven recently? She's been hard to get a hold of since she joined the Fenris Rangers."

"No," he said, avoiding Kathryn's eyes as he always did whenever she mentioned Seven of Nine now. He wished she'd stop. Or that she'd finally address the splinter he'd seen her ignoring for eleven months now. When Chakotay had told her that he and Seven had parted ways barely weeks after landing on Earth, she'd inquired if he was okay and revealed not a hint of emotion more. Not anger. Not relief. Not disappointment. Nothing. He might as well have been Harry Kim telling her how he'd broken up with one of the Delaney twins again. "But B'Elanna mentioned receiving a subspace message from her a few weeks ago so I wouldn't send out any alarms yet."

"Good." Kathryn smiled again, swallowing another deeper mouthful of the wine Chakotay had brought over earlier, and finishing the glass.

She wasn't as careful as usual though - being out of uniform and off the deck of the Voyager had made her freer in a number of tiny ways - and his eyes trailed a tiny spill of red as it escaped the corner of Kathryn's mouth and slid over her chin before gliding slowly down her neck.

Heat sliced clean through his lower stomach as he hastily averted his eyes, this time to hide the hunger that had no doubt visibly flashed across his face. Chakotay sent a silent thank you to the spirits of his ancestors for her eyes having remained closed while she enjoyed the last sip.

Maybe he really should start getting ready to leave.

Candlelight, wine, and Kathryn were not a combination that inspired all that much sanity in Chakotay. He'd thought he'd developed at least a partial immunity in the later years of their journey, as that brightly burning hope he'd cradled in his heart had eventually begun to be smothered by the innumerable trials and tribulations; by the thousand small cuts and steadily growing walls.

Of course, he'd pretty much found out exactly how wrong he was on that point the first time he'd seen her after the former members of the Maquis had received their official pardons from the Federation. When the entire crew had shown up to celebrate and he'd looked across the ballroom someone - probably Paris - had reserved for the event, when for the first time in years had seen Kathryn instead of Captain Janeway.

She'd been wearing a dark red dress that had hugged her front nearly like a second skin and let only air touch half her back. The dress had been tasteful and elegant of course, as anything Kathryn wore always was but Chakotay had known he was fucked the moment his eyes had landed on her. The feeling was yet to leave.

"Next week, then." He confirmed.

"Goodnight, Chakotay," Kathryn said and walked around the dinner table to give him a brief hug and a kiss on his cheek. His eyes slid closed at the singing sensation of her lips against his skin.

Right, that. If ever someone tried to convince him this woman didn't have a cruel bone in her body he might just have to point and laugh. Hysterically.

He opened his mouth to return the goodnight when something that had been steadily straining and stretching for months and months finally snapped.

"Are you ever going to forgive me, Kathryn?" he asked, exhaustion heavy in his voice and eyes still closed. He wasn't sure he could bear seeing her face if he was really starting this conversation.

"What?"

"I promised something to you once, and broke it just before it would have finally been time to fulfill it."

"You never promised me anything." And finally, he heard the tightness in Kathryn's voice he'd been looking for.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, letting her see all the things he'd shielded from her in the Delta Quadrant when showing them would have left his Captain bleeding.

"I did and you know I did, Kathryn. Never aloud because it would have hurt you to hear it. But we both knew."

And finally, finally, anger flashed like lightning in Kathryn's eyes.

"Why did it have to be Seven, Chakotay?"

"I don't know." And he didn't know. He'd asked himself that question a hundred times and never found a good answer. Not one that put him in any kind of good light anyway.

Male ego. Because a part of him had known that it would be the one way he'd actually be able to hurt Kathryn the way she'd been hurting him for years by then. Because he thought he couldn't hurt Kathryn at all and had to finally prove it to himself somehow. Because Seven had shown interest, and he'd been so very tired, and it could have been anyone at all. Because he'd been losing hope.

He didn't know.

"We were supposed to return to Earth together. You were supposed to be right beside me. It was supposed to--"

"I know. I'm sorry, Kathryn," Chakotay whispered and dared to wipe an angry tear from her face.

"And it's not like I had any right to feel--"

He smiled thinly. "And when I found you on Quarra I had no right to want to cave in Jaffen's face. Or that Irish hologram's. Or Q's."

And oh, how Chakotay had wanted to.

"I--" she looked startled like she hadn't suspected any of that. There was something nearly impressive about that, the crew certainly seemed to have steered clear of Chakotay for a solid week after every event where their captain had gotten courted by one alien or another.

Well, steered clear by everyone except Paris and Tuvok. And B'Elanna. But Paris had long since proven himself to be just a bit suicidal to a degree that had eventually earned him Chakotay's respect. And Tuvok was... well, Tuvok.

And B'Elanna just didn't count.

"I had no right. You had no right. But it hurt me, and then I hurt you. And I need to know if you're going to forgive me. Because it still hurts, Kathryn." He cupped the side of her face, barely letting his fingers graze her skin. "You're my best friend. And my partner for eight years now. And you're always going to be the love of my life. I will accept whatever answer you give me, even if you tell me that there's a part of you that's going to hate me forever. But please, Kathryn, I need to know."

Finished, Chakotay fell silent.

Kathryn stared at him with angry, anguished eyes. Then she closed them and Chakotay had to force himself not to shudder.

He could take whatever blow she threw. He'd survive it. Not entirely whole, maybe, but he would survive.

"There is an ancient legend among my people," she said, nearly entirely under her breath but Chakotay still felt the universe come to a stop; could feel the Earth itself halt in its spin. "It is about a Lonely Sea Captain who had lost her way in a storm, and to bring her people home she made a deal with the gods. She locked her heart in a wooden chest and promised them she would not open it until they reached shore. But there was a Brave Warrior aboard her ship too, who worried that without any heart at all the Lonely Sea Captain would be lost - and he was right, she would have been - so he gave her his heart to carry while her own was locked away. She wasn't always kind to that gifted heart, wasn't always careful with it, - and sometimes, sometimes she was afraid she'd lost it - but it gave her strength, and it gave her hope, and it brought her home."

"Is there really an ancient legend?" he whispered, barely daring to breathe. Caught in her gaze like a fly in a spider-silk web.

"No." Another tear began to slide down Kathryn's cheek. "But that made it easier to say."

Chakotay leaned forward and kissed that precious pearl of salt from her cheek.

"The Captain never lost her Warrior's heart," he assured her softly and waited patiently with his lips pressed into her cheek until she moved her head and kissed him.

---

(fun fact: Capulus is Latin for Coffee and Faba is Latin for Bean).

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) Dbz King Kong Au in "The legend of the Mighty Great Ape"

On the Dark and Raining Night in the City of West City, Saphira was Coming home from the grocerie shopping until she sees the strange car that she doesn't know was parked on her Drive way Near her Massive manor…as she began to parked into the garage..and began to walk inside..there she sees some clothes scattered onto the floor as the sound of Moaning echoing into the hall ways and she began to follow to the Sorce..and notice the door was opened..and she saw Her Now "Soon-to-be EX-" Fiance Name "Timothy Conney" making Love With His Mistress….Her Blood began to Boil when she sees Him doing this..and all the 7 years of Relationship has been Gone Down the Drain, So She began to Speak in rage,

Saph:"TIMOTHY LANDUS CONNEY! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING!?"

Tim froze and so does his mistress in fear seeing saphira all in rage and all..and Saphira's eyes was now like an angry fire burning Right at him..and then he said,

Tim:"Saph! I can Explain! this wasn't Looks like!"

Saph:"OH! This Wasn't Look like huh!? Well It Looks like you've been making love with This BITCH And Throwing all this 7 years of OUR relationship Down the Toilet FOR THIS!"

Saphira Said Coldly While Pointed at the Mistress Who is Clearly Scared of Saphira's Fury And then She said that will make him begged for Mercy,

Saphira:"Thats it! I'M CALLING OFF THE ENGAGEMENT And I'M KICKING YOU AND THAT BITCH OUT! And also..I'm calling your parents and tell them everything you've done and Including this!"

Tim:"SAPH! No please! I'm sorry..I've begging you..I'll treat you better this time…I'll break up with her! Just please..My parents will punish me For this!"

Saph:" I don't care! I knew your parents Hated Cheaters and it'll be really Shocked if their son is a Serial Cheater and tarnish the families name for it..and also I'll be suing you for this as well along with your Whore!"

Saphira Did call her parents as she was told him, So His parents grabbed him and the mistress and tore timmy up into a new For what he had done to saphira for mistreatment and Cheating as well…after that…Saphira the next day..try to work at the theater as a lovely actress..but the theater was closed down Due to Bankrupt and Now..She was desparate to find it..until this Explorer wanted saphira to be part of this "Act" in the movie..by taking her to an adventuring cruise..So Saphira accepted..as the Long Voyage of the sea..Fog was appearing almost looks like it came from the Horror story but they discovered an island that No one ever been there..or Live to tell the tale…after they landed on the Unknown island…where they sees the Giantantic walls and ruined villiage..until…it was an ambush by the natives..as one of them was killed..Made Saphira screaming bloody murder…but the Sound of the mighty beast Roars as the Natives Knew that She was Chosen to become the sacrifice of the Mighty beast itself but then Other Adventurers Came to the rescue..but that night..the natives taken Saphira for the Ritual of Sacrifice..She was tied up to the poles as She screams..and struggles..hearing the drums and Chanting…until silence was sudden…She hears the Loud Rustling and trees fallen..as she sees the Giant Dark figures…as She screams Louder and echoes through the island as the great ape looked at her with a piercing red eyes and he began to touched her cheeks with his finger gently and he began to grabbed her and tore the rope up..as he roars loudly…and runs to the jungle with her in his hands..and then..Something shocking that saphira heard..and This beast said…

[consultingjedi]

man sometimes star trek: voyager is the pits and sometimes it's really, really good

season 6 episode 8 ("one small step") is a new contender for absolutely favorite episode. this is how you do a time travel episode. it works because it's not time travel. they find a fragment of the past in a place they never would have expected. that past comes to life so, so well, not via some scifi resurrection but plain old voice logs.

and it touches not just the history nerds, not just the person who didn't see the meaning of it at first, but the viewer. and it does that through both the characters' reactions and phil moriss's superb acting as lt. kelly. you know the entire time he's dead, and yet it hurts when his last ditch effort doesn't make it. when he dedicates himself to exploration and science without regret, even as he's breathing his last. when seven honors his last request, taking the same kind of risk she chewed chakotay out for earlier, because she knows what it is to be larger–to want to be larger–than your single self.

more shit that makes this episode fantastic:

tom paris and chakotay nerding out together

janeway's borderline flirtatious manner with seven, per usual

seven yelling at chakotay for risking all their lives

chakotay using the same joke seven did earlier in the episode

the way kelly's logs slowly draw seven in despite her earlier dismissal of history as useless, leading to her snap decision not only to follow his last wishes re: the data he'd gathered but to take his body back too

the casting – not just that kelly is black, a choice that i love, but that one of the astronauts on mars sounds russian. this episode aired in 1999. the berlin wall fell ten years before. the kelly parts are set in the year 2032, not some far future century. sure, the original series had a diverse set of main officers, but voyager really said "thirty years from now, not centuries but decades, we will be better than we are now."

seven telling kelly the results of the world series at the end. entirely sentimental and yet seven does it. (bonus: tom paris's smile. he knows exactly what she's done. history nerd.)

the reminder that the federation is, even in the delta quadrant, full of nerds

[fandomsnstuff]

I'm really on top of it today, it's only 6:15! Look at me go. Five days left of @taznovembercelebration team, the end is in sight

Day 25: three

First, an apocalypse destroyed her world. Then she spent a year utterly alone, only to sentence herself to loneliness a few decades later. Eventually, the world almost ended, but didn't. Where does she go from here?

Or, three times lucretia lost everything, and the one time she got it back

Read it on AO3

The apocalypse

Lucretia's only 20 years old when the world ends. She's standing on the deck of a shiny new silver ship as it raises into the air for its maiden voyage when columns of shadows slam into the ground out of the unmoving grey sky above. Creatures flood out of the columns and wreak havoc in the streets below. She's powerless to help them.

They rise above the storm, and see a disk made of shadow, another plane that no one had ever heard of before. She watches in horror as it uses the countless columns emerging from its underside to tear her home out of its place in the universe and consume it whole. She does not scream, and she does not cry.

That first night, after a long, confusing, and upsetting day, she lies in her bunk, shrouded in darkness.

She didn't have much in the way of friends or family back home. It's why they hired her. She knew it was up in the air whether the Starblaster would return home. First of its kind, a voyage never done before, of course they'd send the people they deemed disposable. She just never expected to not have a home to return to, if the mission was a success. But it's gone. Destroyed, eaten, taken over. All words used by the only other people left from where she came from.

She feels as if someone's reached into her chest and is squeezing her heart like a stress ball. Her lip quivers, and she cries for people she never knew and a home she can't return to.

The year alone

Her head is pounding when she regains consciousness. There's a grey sky peeking through a canopy of trees above her. She has to squeeze her eyes shut to stop the spinning. When she's able to stand, she can see that the ship's crashed into the wilderness, tearing a path through the trees. She's alone on deck.

She peers over the railing and doesn't see anybody on the ground, alive or otherwise. “Guys?” Maybe they're already on the ground, inspecting for damage. But she gets no response.

She checks every room, even the closets and storage, but aside from herself, Fisher, and all their belongings, the ship is empty.

She tries every communication and tracking spell she can think of, but gets nothing.

It's hard, being alone. She's hardly blasé when it comes to dying, but it's less terrifying dealing with a dangerous situation when you know you'll come back. But now, if she dies it's game over. Everybody's lives in every plane, their entire mission, is on her shoulders.

She avoids going planetside as much as possible. The last thing she needs is a stray bandit to decide she's their next target. She hardly has any time to write. She sleeps when she can, putting the ship into autopilot or setting it down and surrounding it with as many protection runes as she can muster.

It's late at night that she misses them the most. During the day, she's so on the go she can't stop to miss them. But at night, everything's too quiet. No footsteps for late night snacks, or voices floating through the vents and too-thin walls. It's just her breathing and the sound of machinery.

If nothing else, she'll never complain about them being too loud ever again.

The redaction

She tucks herself into the small space between Fisher's tank and her desk, and curls up into a ball, burying her face in her knees, and she sobs.

It didn't go exactly how she wanted, but she did it. They're gone. The memories, her friends, it's all vanished. Even with Davenport in the other room, she's alone again. This time self inflicted.

They'll hate her. She knows they will, but they couldn't keep living like that. They were all miserable. At least now, Taako, Magnus, and Merle can be happy. They'll live in ignorant bliss, Lucretia will fix all of this, and then they'll get their memory back, and they can carry on with their happy lives.

Barry's dead for sure. She knew he was on the ship before she did it, and she couldn't find him anywhere after. It's a shame, losing his corporeal body already, but she's sure he'll necromance his way to a new one.

And then there's Davenport… her captain, her role model. He's been reduced to almost nothing. She had a life ready for him. She'd gotten him a boat so he could sail this world and find new things to explore. She wanted him to find joy in adventure again. She didn't realise how much of him consisted of the mission. The effect Fisher had on him was completely unexpected. She can't send him into the world in the state he's in now.

The boys were out of it when it first happened, so she just has to hope that over time his faculties will return to him. Maybe she can still send him off to adventure in a few weeks time. For now, she'll keep him nearby.

She allows herself some extra time for her small breakdown, but she's not curled up there for long. She has relics to find.

Getting it all back

A little over a year after defeating the Hunger, Lup and Barry complete their planar hopping belts, which allows all of them to go home to a heroes welcome. They're all individually offered a lucrative position within the Institute. Everyone says no, which is unsurprising. They've all got things on Faerun far more important than a raise and a retirement savings plan. But Lucretia… she considers it.

She doesn't accept immediately, but she doesn't say no. She needs to get her ducks in a row first.

She's in her office doing just that when the door slams open and someone says, “what the fuck do you mean you're leaving?!”

She blinks. “Davenport?”

Her former captain, who hasn't spoken to her since the world almost ended, throws her door shut and marches up to her desk. He climbs up on a chair and leans over the desk on his hands, glaring at her. “You're leaving?”

“I– well– yes. I was considering it.”

“Why?”

“How do you know about this? I haven't told anyone.”

“I'm Captain Fucking Davenport that's how. Tell me why.” That's an order is silently tacked onto the end.

“I- I figured it'd be easier. For everyone. No one risks seeing me if they'd rather not, and I hardly have anything worth staying for.”

“We're standing in your reason for staying.”

“The Bureau will be fine without me. I have a laundry list of people that could take over. I'm not really needed.”

He scoffs and crosses his arms. “One thing that always pissed me off about you was how you'd sell yourself short. Even after your confidence boost.”

“Uh-”

“You've more or less single handedly lead and overseen the Bureau's reconstruction efforts all over the fucking continent, and you think you can just fuck right off and be done with it? You built an entire secret society from the ground up in a year and you want to go back to the bureaucracy of the goddamn Institute?!”

He did always hate the paperwork. There were plenty of times over the century that they all heard Davenport bitch about dealing with higher-ups back home. But that still doesn't make any of this make sense.

“I'm confused… you want me to stay?”

“Yes! Who else am I supposed to have deeply complicated feelings about?”

“I'm sure you can still have those complicated feelings whether I'm here or not.”

“But they can't get un-complicated if you're gone.”

“You… what?”

He sighs, the fire inside him not burning quite as brightly now. “Lucretia,” he rubs at his face, “this is all so deeply fucked up. I'm pissed off, and I hate you, but I don't, and I love you, and we're family, and I'm so angry about what you did, but the last thing I want is for you to live in an entirely different reality.”

“I assumed you'd never want to see me again. This was the easiest way.”

“You make a lot of assumptions. You should work on that.”

“Noted.”

“You're a good leader, Lucretia. I may not have been myself for the last ten years, but I remember them, and I especially remember that. I'm proud of you, you really built something amazing in those years. The Bureau needs you, and you can't just run away from what happened here.”

“Thank you,” she says, fighting back the waver in her voice.

“I don't want to hear anymore nonsense about living in another reality. Is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good.” He hops off the chair he's standing on and heads for the door. “Oh!” He stops and turns back just as he's opened it. “I'm also supposed to tell you that Magnus is hosting dinner tonight, you're invited.”

She purses her lips. “Is he cooking?”

Davenport looks far too smug. “Yup. And as your Captain, I'm deeming attendance mandatory.”

She cringes, and he walks out laughing. He leaves the door open. She shouts after him, “close my door!”

He shouts back, “no! Fuck you!” But she can still hear the laughter in his voice. She smiles, and feels her heart swell. She didn't think that things would be okay with her team ever again, but maybe with enough time, grovelling, and Magnus's bad cooking, they just might be.

[dissimulxte]

@dcviated sent:

quiet, sender gestures for receiver to be quiet. [i know, the idea of them hushing is sacrilege isnt it?]

Every performance has its own unique challenges to navigate. Perhaps the walking gait of the chosen role is unique, molded by an injury sustained in younger years which never quite healed right; just as a vocal cadence might be so precise, so unique, that failing to emulate it just right ruins the illusion. Today's challenge, though, is much more conventional. A simple question of grace in a small space: moving around a tight enclosure while crooning sultry tones—in precarious heels and a classic, suitably expensive cocktail dress—in such a way that it seems effortless, so her attention remains fixed on the clientelle who've shelled out obscene amounts of cash for this whole affair on rails.

Working out the logistics of having a live performance space on a luxury passenger train was certainly no mien feat, to begin with, but a necessity insofar as its designers were concerned; no matter how fancy a sound system they could afford to install, any sort of pre-recorded shlock simply wouldn't match the opulent, art-deco atmos they'd woven into every other feature.

So they carved just enough space for a three-piece jazz band to be tucked into the wall, and laid a richly colored, damascus printed carpet down the center aisle where their vocalist might prowl; weaving between narrow lounges and booths as the audience watched, entranced—close enough to touch, though they wouldn't dare, (and she wouldn't give them the satisfaction).

All in all, it's an easy gig. A thin disguise by way of little prosthetic touches, and makeup done just-so, with the brunt of the work going into the pseudonym, the background, and strategic placement to ensure that of all the entertainment options the luxury line entertained in their selection process she would be chosen for this particular voyage... all preamble for the real work to come later—when vague faces and names became details, invitations, opportunities. Getting their attention is the start, and she does that beautifully; always a creature to thrive under attention.

Each person she passes gets their halfway glance from dreamy eyes, a dulcet word or two, but only that: a taste, a sample, no more than a second spared, no pauses as she works her way down to the end of the beautifully appointed car and faces the glass façade separating this cabin from a little vestibule, and another door on the opposite side which lead into the first line of deluxe sleeping suites.

This, too, happens in only a moment: where hooded brown eyes meet the glass expecting only to admire their own reflection a moment, to privately appreciate the show in media res, but meet another pair, instead. Maybe the movement caught his attention, the little sliver of song growing just that much closer despite the buffering walls between, or some combination of the two—or, perhaps, there really is some unseen string which tethers the two, and the fates gave it a little tug.

A hand scrawled note in neat script she'd left, somewhere he'd find it: 'Out of town on business for a few weeks. Try not to miss me too much.' A message from an unknown number: [sms] i was about to say the same thing. tell me all about it when we're both back in town—over bibimbap? my treat ;)

...she'd wonder, later, if he'd have recognized her even if she had been better concealed—if he'd know her, by then, from nothing more than the way she looked at him. At the time, though, she only savors that second's time, and does everything she can not to let the smile which tugs at her lips cause folly in her song when he raises a conspiratorial finger to his own lips, grinning behind the gesture.

What a laugh, that either of them would be shushing the other, considering... well, needless to say: the humor couldn't have been lost on him. More like that was the whole point—because in what world would she say anything? Make any sort of sound or allusion to how surprised she was? This wasn't amateur hour at the laugh-in.

Sure: an undeniable thrill moves up through her spine and sends a shiver down to her fingertips a the sight of him; her head rushes, abuzz with the new information, the new factor in the game being played—but that reaction is for her, and her alone; not a beat missed, no visible shift. She's too good for that, and he knows it.

...If she'd had a moment more maybe she could have lifted a hand and pretended to lock those lightly rouged lips he knew all too well, but alas, they remain shaped around the note she was sounding—all she can spare as her shoulder turns is a cheeky little wink, then it's back to face the audience.

The show must go on... and the script just got so much more exciting.

[theodysseyblogwooo]

the odyssey: book review

The Odyssey is a story that has survived the ages for good reason. It’s a story of love, grief, and great hardships. The story it tells is one of gods and men, interacting and yet separate. The main plotline is about one man defying a god to return home after such a long time. Who wouldn’t be interested in it?

Let’s speak on the man in question, Odysseus. Odysseus is known for his godlike resilience throughout the tale. (To the point where half the time he's referred to in the book it’s as godlike Odysseus.) And he lives up to that title time and time again during his voyage home, yet it’s when we finally see him let his wall down that we get to see Odysseus’ pure essence. It doesn’t happen very often, yet when it does, it makes it so much more special. For example, take when Penelope finally lets her guard down and accepts that it really is her long lost husband, Odysseus in front of her instead of some trick of the gods. They sat and wept together, for all the lost time and for the new beginnings they had between each other. “ She told him/ all that she had to endure as the fair lady/ -- Odysseus told her of all the suffering/ he had brought upon others, and all the pain/ he endured himself. She loved listening to him/ And did not fall asleep until he had told the whole tale” (Homer 362).

While we’re on the topic of characters, I want to talk about the other characters we see. Most feel like they’re already on their own journey and the time we see of them is just a short view into their own tale. Or in other, more simple words, they all felt like real people. Though that isn’t exactly true for all the characters, with some of Odysseus’ servants seeming single minded with their only thoughts we hear of being about Odysseus. With that said, it does make sense when looking at the history of this tale being passed down orally for generations, meaning that most details that aren’t related directly to Odysseus being lost to the folds of time.

The only problem I took with the book is most likely due to the translation I chose. It’s to do with the word choices of Stanley Lombardo. I felt like he was repeating words constantly throughout the book, with that only working once in his favor. The three biggest offenders of this were cooly, insolent, and beautiful. I could not go a chapter without seeing at least one of these words. There probably enough that I could fill a whole bingo card with. I did mention earlier that there was one time using the same word a few times worked in Lombardo’s favor and that was the word odious. It was only used twice in the book and they were both very important times relating to Odysseus. The first was at the very beginning, when Zeus and Athena are discussing Odysseus and whether or not to free him from Calypso. The second time was in chapter twenty two, when Autolycus gave Odysseus his name because of the had followed him throughout his life. That is the only example that I can think of that I liked in the entire book so that’s saying something.

Overall, I love the story of the Odyssey. It’s a great epic with such an intriguing story that I love to dissect. I rate the story a 10/10, but with this translation’s structure, I’m going to deduct one point due to all that. So my final rating is a 9/10.

[fuckyeah-jessicabiel]

Jessica Biel for CosmoGirl October/November 1999 by Jodi Bryson 

Find out why this 7th Heaven star is the coolest friend a girl could have!  

"I'm definitely weird," Jessica Biel confesses as she digs  through the knick-knacks in her bedroom.   "I have some really wild  stuff."  She points out her collection of vintage sunglasses, a bunch of  so-bright-they're-blinding wigs, dozens of phone numbers taped to the  wall, and her favorite Abercrombie & Fitch ad.  "He is the hottest  Abercrombie model ever," she says.  

The 17 year old star of 7th Heaven just finished her third season  on the show and aced her junior year of high school.  Now she's  flinging clothes around her bedroom to prep for a European vacation with  two of her closest friends.  "I want to go someplace I've never been  with people I really love hanging out with," she says.  "I want to see  some amazing things."  

Jessie has that I'll-try-anything-once outlook down pat.  She  started her career as a model, but at 14 decided to give acting a whirl.   Like in a Hollywood fairy tale, she flew to L.A. and had just a few  auditions before scoring the primo role of Mary Camden.  

Jessie works on 7th Heaven six days a week, nine months a year.   But as soon as she steps off the set, straight-arrow Mary vanishes and  the real Jessie charms everyone around her with warp-speed chitchat  about her big plans for the future (a backpacking trip with her best  friend, college, and maybe a second career as a photographer).  Clearly,  Jessie is ready to take on the world.  First stop, Europe!  

The Big Trip 

"I have no idea what to expect," Jessie says of her European  vacation, "but I just can't wait to eat that good food!"  Is she worried  about travelling to strange countries where she doesn't know a soul?   "No, I'm very excited.  My mom has a checklist of things for me to do  before I go:  Make copies of my passport, driver's license, and credit  cards; pack these things close to my body but separate from my wallet.   My mother has planed it all out -- I just gotta do it."  

Jessie makes a surprisingly small pile of clothes at the bottom  of her bed, then crams it into a backpack.  "I'm honestly taking one  pair of pants, a T-shirt, a couple pairs of shorts, a few tank tops, a  sweatshirt, a bathing suit, and two pairs of underwear that I'll keep  throwing in the sink.  My camera is the most important thing."  

In addition to taking tons of snaps, Jessie has dreamed up the  coolest way to keep track of her European adventures.  "Instead of a  private diary, I'm going to take a big book, like a communal journal,  and anyone can write in it," she says.  "If someone says, 'Can I see  your journal and write a little entry?' that's cool.  It will be nice to  look back and read what we all did and what we felt together."  Bon  voyage!  

Best Friends  

Her travelling companions are her friends Shane Nelson and Light  Dreamer Eternity.  "Light rocks so hard," Jessie says.  And even though  she lives in L.A. now, Jessie is still supertight with her best friend  from her hometown of Boulder, Colorado, who's also named Jessie.  "I  have pictures of Jessie and me stuck all over my room," she says.   What's her secret for maintaining such strong friendships?  "There's  never the silent treatment," Jessie explains. "If I was in a fight with a  friend, I would just call and be like, What is the deal?  What did I  do?  What do we need to talk about?  How can we get it over with?"   Jessie's the kind of friend who wouldn't let you stay mad at her.  

A Special Guy  

Will her absence make anyone's heart grow fonder?  Jessie let it  slip that she has a long-distance boyfriend, but then she wouldn't spill  a single detail! (And believe us, we begged!)   But she did share her  sure-fire hook-up advice.  "I'm pretty forward with guys," she says.   "I'll just walk up to somebody and I'll be really blunt and say, 'What a  great-looking person you are!  Have an awesome day.'"   Does that  really work?  "Well, I don't say that to a guy because I want him to be  my boyfriend," she says.  "I just want to tell him."   What guy could  resist?  

Prom Night  

Unfortunately, Jessie didn't get to take her secret boyfriend to  her junior prom.  "I promised Beverley Mitchell [who plays her younger  sister Lucy on 7th Heaven] that I'd go to her friend's prom.  And she  made me promise that I wouldn't back out.  I found out a week later that  my prom was the exact same day!  So I missed my prom to go to another  prom with this kid who didn't have a date," she says.  She didn't skimp  on glamour for her first prom experience: She wore an elegant white  cami-and-skirt combo with superhigh-heeled sandals.  "It turned out that  we had a good time, but Bev totally owes me!"  

Bad Behavior  

Jessie doesn't always play it so straight and narrow.  There's a  sneaky story about the pink flamingo hanging from her bedroom ceiling.  

"We had just sold our house in Boulder, Colorado, and I loved  that house," she says.  "I wanted to see it one more time.   When my  best friend Jessie and I drove up to it, my eyes welled up -- there was a  pink flamingo sticking out of my front yard!  It was the chessiest  thing I'd ever seen.  I was not happy with that flamingo.  I thought,  This has to go.  So I ran and ripped it out of the ground.  I busted to  the car and yelled, 'Go, Jessie, go!' and we just took off.  I pulled  out the stick and put the flamingo in my suitcase, and took it home with  me," she says.  "I don't think the family even knew it was missing."  Um, Jessie...they do now.  

BRIGHT FUTURE  

Even though Jessie's a totally fearless adventurer, she still  gets homesick for Boulder.  "I miss the people, I miss the mountains.   It is so laid-back there," she explains.   Does she ever see herself  going back to settle down in the Rocky Mountain foothills?  "I have one  more year of high school, which seems like it's going to take forever --  and then I'm on my own!  I can be wherever I want to be!"   Look out  world -- here she comes!"  

[pippytmi]

Supercorp + Hogwarts AU + meet messy + "is that the best you can do?"

“Hey, do you guys want to see a muggle magic trick?”

Kara doesn’t have to look up to know Alex and Kelly are exchanging glances over Nia’s head. Nia is the best witch in the fifth year hands-down, but her grasp of muggle illusions leave a lot to be desired.

“Sure…” Kelly agrees, politely but unsurely, while Alex shakes her head.

“If this is that stupid coin trick again, Nia—” she starts, but Nia is already squeezing between them on the grass, unfolding a pack of muggle playing cards.

“It is not,” Nia says. “Prepare to be amazed! Yvette says I’m really good at this one.”

“Oh, joy,” Alex mutters under her breath, which turns into a pained yelp when Kelly elbows her in the ribs.

Kara finally raises her gaze from the newspaper she’s been half-reading, fully prepared to commit to Nia’s trick, but then she catches a glimpse of dark hair and a brisk pace. It’s Lena Luthor, notorious loner, actually sitting outside by the black lake with her books.

It’s odd—Lena never sits outside. People talk; Lena doesn’t have many friends (someone even started a rumor that Lillian Luthor pays Jess, another sixth year, to hang out with Lena). In fact, the only time anyone really sees Lena is in class, or in the Slytherin common room when Jess is also there. Kara sees her even less (only when Slytherin and Gryffindor share classrooms), but that doesn’t make the hopeless crush she’s fostered on her since they were eleven any less potent.

Kelly starts clapping suddenly, reluctantly dragging Kara’s eyes from Lena (who is reading a book; Kara is wondering just what kind of book it is). “Aw, Nia, that was good!” she says. “Do it again!”

Even Alex is curiously lifting up the cards one by one, as if trying to determine the trick herself. “Did you use actual magic for this?” she asks.

“I’m just that good,” Nia brags, though the way she tries to expertly shuffle the cards right back into their box suggests otherwise; half of them spill onto the grass. “Oh man!”

“I’ve got this,” Kara says, absentmindedly reaching for her wand. “Accio—”

“Kara, no!”

Oh, that’s right, Kara thinks belatedly. My wand is broken. It had been an unfortunate event on the Quidditch pitch involving an overzealous Hufflepuff seeker (Winn is still very apologetic about it, but it can’t be helped now). Unfortunately, Kara never seems to quite remember that magic is off-limits until it can be fixed.

And even more unfortunate is the fact that her mind and her words have begun to converge; she’s thinking about the book Lena is reading while glancing at the cards, and her mouth is forming silent words, and really it’s not a surprise at all when said book rockets out of Lena’s hands and aims right for Nia’s head.

No one dies, though, nor do they have to make the unpleasant trudge to the infirmary—Kelly is far quicker than any of Kara’s botched magic, and the book explodes into nothing when she mutters a firm, “Evanesco.”

“Kelly!” Kara forgets, for a second, about the whole Nia-about-to-break-her-face thing; her heart drops to the pit of her stomach at the thought that something of Lena Luthor’s has been reduced to figurative dust. What if that book was personal? What if it was special? What if it was—

“Excuse me,” says a quiet, sudden voice, and Kara just about falls over in the grass at the sight of Lena Luthor standing there. “I think you summoned my book.”

Kelly winces. “Oh, actually—”

“I destroyed it,” Kara blurts out, because really, this is her fault and Nia still has a face so the least Kara can do is take a fall for a friend. “I’m sorry. My wand is broken, and I was trying to summon some cards, but I was looking at you and thinking about your book and it just…I’m sorry. Again. I can pay for it?” She immediately begins digging into the pockets of her robes, but all she manages to scrounge up is a broken sugar quill and a drawing on a torn sheet of paper that depicts Professor Grant as a dragon.

For a moment, all Lena does is stare down at Kara in a peculiarly quizzical way. She doesn’t seem mad or anything, just perplexed. A second later she says, “You were thinking about ‘Voyages with Vampires’ strongly enough to summon it? I don’t really enjoy Gilderoy Lockhart books myself.”

“To be fair,” Kara’s quick to defend herself, “I couldn’t read the title from this far.”

“Right. You decided you wanted to snatch my book from me because it was mine.” And just like that, the curious expression on Lena’s face drops entirely, twists into something resigned and exhausted. “Is that the best you can do? Petty little child games?”

“What? No, I would never—”

“Because last week Eve Tessmacher hit me with a furnunculus curse that was far more clever than this,” Lena all but sneers. “It’s always the pig-headed Gryffindors that aim out of their league.”

“You wanna say that again?” Alex is jumping up, her wand brandished out, and Lena glances from her to Kara to Kelly to Nia, as if just realizing how potentially outnumbered she could be.

Except, well, that’s so not the issue. Kara hastens to stand between Alex’s wand and Lena’s body, nearly knocking her sister over in the process. “No! No, I didn’t do that as a prank, I—” She pauses, feels her cheeks go hot, and then rushes out, “Ijustthinkyou’rereallypretty!”

Alex lowers her wand; Kara can tell, because Alex uses it to jab her in the ribs. “Oh, bloody hell,” Alex grumbles, and she nudges Kelly to join her. “I think that’s our cue. I’d rather study for Potions than watch this.”

Kelly obligingly drags Nia along, who looks like she wants to protest, but eventually Nia caves in—though not without trying to wink conspiringly at Kara, which doesn’t work because Nia “winks” with both eyes.

“But—” Kara watches as her friends scatter, and then she is left with the heavy, accusatory gaze of Lena Luthor. She tries to smile, but imagines her attempt is more of a wince than anything. “Did I mention that I’m sorry?”

Lena takes a step forward. She raises her chin in the air, no less guarded, but her eyes convey a tiny bit of that earlier curiosity all the same. “You’ve already had your fun, Kara Danvers,” she says. “But I will give you credit, no one has played the ‘I have a crush on you’ prank yet.”

Kara frowns. “Do people really play pranks on you so much?”

“I am the weird little sister of a boy who tried to blow up Hogwarts,” Lena all but deadpans. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re way more than Lex Luthor’s sister, and that’s just...really mean,” Kara says, words bursting out before she even pauses to rein them in. “I mean, you are so smart! Last year you saved a bunch of first years who wandered into the Forbidden Forest. A-and you never tried out for Quidditch, but sometimes you fly with Jess on the pitch and you’re so fast you could easily run circles around anyone on the Slytherin team. You’re the coolest person ever. Even when you were eleven, you—” Finally, her brain starts to catch up with her mouth, and Kara flushes hotter than she ever thought possible. “Oh, gosh. I’m sorry. I swear, I didn’t mean for that to sound…stalker-y. I only know about the first year thing because Professor Grant’s son was new that year and I was supposed to be babysitting him. And then the flying, well, sometimes I go to the pitch with Winn whenever he wants to practice—”

“Kara. You can breathe any time you want,” Lena prompts, and Kara pauses to do exactly that.

“Sorry,” Kara adds, again, after she’s let her lungs rest a bit. Her whole body feels shivery from head to toe, like she is seconds away from fainting, and honestly? She just might. “Anyway. Um. I can replace that book if you want. Or I can give you the money and you can pick out a better one, since you said you weren’t a fan? Whatever you want.”

Lena is quiet for a beat. “What were you going to say before? About when I was eleven?”

Kara bites her lip so hard she knows she will inevitably have to ask Kelly to heal it later. “Oh, that,” she says evasively. “I meant, when you were eleven, and I walked face-first into the wrong wall trying to get to platform nine and three quarters, and you didn’t even laugh at me. You just...helped me up, and promised you would walk with me to the train until I found my family again.”

“I remember,” Lena says, and her voice is softening, as is her expression. “You somehow got lost between platforms seven and eight. Your sister was furious when she caught up with us.”

“Yeah.” And Kara finds herself smiling at that memory; this time it’s a real smile, and she couldn’t stop it if she tried. “That was really nice.” She wants to mention more—how even when Lillian Luthor scowled at Kara’s hand-me-downs, Lena complimented her right away on the shirt that had once been Alex’s—but all Kara does right now is step back. “I’ve bothered you enough, I think. Will you…let me know? About the book?”

“I don’t care about the book,” Lena says, and she swallows, loud enough that Kara can hear it. “Do you mean it?”

“That you’re...nice?”

“Yes.” Lena’s cheeks are a faint pink color, and Kara’s entire mouth goes dry.

“Well, yeah,” Kara says, and in that moment—with Lena blushing, and Kara’s chest tightening—they both know that she’s confessing to so much more than thinking Lena is nice. “So. Um.” She squares her shoulders, and prepares to be brave enough to live up to the Gryffindor name: “Can I buy you something that’s not a book? Sometime? Maybe on our next trip to Hogsmeade?”

“Like a date?” Lena asks, so impossibly soft, and Kara nods.

“Exactly like a date,” Kara says, and honestly, she should demand ten points to Gryffindor herself because her voice does not waver once.

And Lena Luthor smiles, just cautious enough to show how unsure she is, but still warm enough that Kara’s heart skips a beat. “Okay,” she says. “But on one condition: I’ll handle any magic until then.”

“Deal,” Kara agrees, and it’s official; breaking her wand might have been the best thing that has ever happened to her, ever.

[arty-chase]

A Failed Betrothal (4)

Am I doing this right? I mostly do write this when I am between the state of sleep and awareness. Hope you enjoy this.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1) (Part 3)

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PART 4

Marinette came to a dungeon cell with two other prisoners. One of them was awake and he looked vaguely familiar. The other had an ugly red helmet that didn’t help with the headache she had.

“Do you know where we are?” She asked the handsome stranger with beautiful green eyes, her throat a little dry.

Wait. Handsome?

No bad Marinette. Don’t fall for fellow prisoners, no matter how cute he looks. Oh Kwamis, she was already screwed.

He still hadn’t replied. Maybe he didn’t understand French. She tried to ask again in another language before her enhanced hearing picked up the sound of footsteps. She faked unconsciousness. Later, she heard the iron door open. She looked through the tiniest slits of her eyes she could muster while the two held a staring/glaring match. Oh shit, that’s the fame Talia Al Ghul, daughter of Ra’s, head of the League of Shadows, and the boy she was glaring at had some resemblance to her, so he must be her son, Dennis? Daniel? Damon?

"Damian, I hope you know what you should do."

Ohh..Damian. Where had she heard that name before?

"To be forcefully married to that little girl. She is no one special. Why am I getting married to her?"

Ouch, that hurts. Well, Damian, just because I forgot your name does not mean you can call me a little girl. I can also kill you very easily and painfully.

“Well, Jason, you are awake. You can be the best man for the wedding.”

“No. I don’t know what game you are playing but you better release us. B is gonna find us and you will pay. Let the girl go. She is innocent in all of this.” Red Helmet, Jason, is officially not going on her hit list for his atrocious fashion choices. But that red monstrosity still needs to go.

"Ladybug may not seem like it but she possesses great power that my father converted for centuries. Speaking of, she should be awake by now."

Marinette felt her hair being yanked. A little pain was expected but the really sharp claws digging into her scalp was not. Making her cry and tear up.

”I am so sorry, kit.” Plagg whispered in the kwami language, loosening his claws.

"Tch, See, she is more pathetic than I thought. She is not powerful." Damian growled out.

Geez, thanks for the compliment, it’s not like you ever had a tiny cat dig its claws into your scalp out of surprise. (Damian once had a kitten thrown at his head and if he knew about Plagg, he would have been sympathetic.) Marinette started begging for mercy, hoping they would buy the helpless girl out of the suit that is ill-suited for the job she had been chosen for and had no idea on how to escape.

“Like I thought, weak. She is not deserving of the title of my wife.”

Oh kwamis, what did she ever do to have such a picky groom? The more he insults her, the less she wants to be married to him.

"Appearance can be deceiving. Despite her demeanor, she is the current wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous and the Current Guardian. The old Guardian, the old fool had promised her in exchange for his protection."

Great, another reason to stop her mother from killing a senile old man.

"That doesn't mean I want to marry her. She is not worthy of an Al Ghul or a Wayne. Look at her, crying at the slightest feeling of pain."

So that’s where she heard it from. The boy was the son of the daughter of a guy who leads a secret order of assassins and a man that owns a multi-million business. How even did a billionaire meet an assassin, ends up in bed with her and lives? Something to think about for later. She quieted down her sobs, (beat that acting, Rossi) kept her voice low to hatch out a plan with Plagg in the kwami language while the mother-son duo bickered.

“Hey, Plagg before you go, you think I can do that thing, the one which your one of your past holders from Japan can do.”

“You have a lot of potential for destruction but you have not used the ring for a long time yet so I am not sure.”

“I will give it a go anyways. Nothing to lose after all. See you later, Plagg.” Marinette smiled, one that drove fear into the hearts of even the bravest of people. Plagg returned it, already loving the new Guardian before zipping out of the cell to do some scouting. Using the enhanced strength the French superheroine got from prolonged use of the Miraculous, she yanked the chains of the walls and wrapped them around Talia’s neck, cutting off her air supply.

The League of Assassins thought that they could kidnap her and get away with it. But they were no match for the daughter of Sabine Cheng, the deadly Blue Reaper. A high ranking member from the group of assassins and mercenaries called the Guild of Night, who had semi-retired. Kidnapping her was a bad move to make as it meant they had declared war on the Guild, despite the reason behind her abduction having a completely different intention.

She whispered as such to the older woman in her tight grip, making sure the League would know how much they had fucked up. After dropping the limp body, she took a deep breath and tried channeling some of her energy for what she was about to do.

Well, here goes nothing.

She breathed out on the shackles, turning it to rust.

Success!

She introduced herself as Lady and concentrated the energy from before into her hand, forming inky black orbs of destruction in order to free her fellow captives. She felt a little drained from doing magic out of the suit and tried not to show it. Plagg returned, informing her of where the Ra’s and the Pits were. She grinned at the thought of showing old Ra’s who the boss is and made sure he regretted ever messing with her. She explained about Plagg as vaguely as she can, no need to let anyone know about the miraculous than necessary. Sure her plan sounds insane but the boys don’t know who they were with.

She would worry about that curse after she got out of Nanda Parbat. Although she could probably find something in the grimoire to reverse it, she was still an amateur at magic so it was best to have a professional to take care of it. Marinette didn’t want to be with such an asshole, no matter how striking he looks in those regal robes.

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Picking off the League assassins, one by one was easy especially in her transformed state. She hadn’t appraised her suit properly but from what she had seen, it wasn’t like Chat Noir’s leather get-up. She was armoured in vital areas and her colour scheme was mainly black with green accents. There were vials that were probably poisons and pouches which she decided to look at later. She still had a long braid as a tail from her brief stint as Lady Noire and she wondered why her suit was different. While hiding in a niche she found, she called the bakery via the comm in one of her various pouches.

“Hello?”

“Papa, it’s me, Marinette. Do you know where Maman is?”

“She went out of Paris, talking about how this League must pay. I think she is meeting up with several of her old friends. Are you alright, my little blossom? I know you can take care of yourself but I worry.” The relief in Tom’s voice was palpable. However, she was right and the Guild was going to war against the League. Marinette was adored by nearly everyone in the Guild due to her strangely bubbly and cheery personality in the harsh and brutal lifestyle.

“I am fine, Papa. Did Maman use the Horse to leave? And how are my friends?” She knew they might be in a panic after her disappearance.

“I think she did. I didn’t see Kalki when I went to feed the kwamis. Your friends panicked when they found out you were kidnapped. But they are fine now, mostly worried about you. Took care of some akumas and senti monsters by themselves. I think your fencer friend, Kagami, knows more about the League than she lets on.” Of course, she does. Her mother was a member of the Guild before being blinded due to a mission. Kagami and her actually first met during a reunion party of sorts.

“Thank you, Papa. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She hung up and dialed the personal phone number her mother uses that only Marinette and her father knows about. She waited for the call to connect, trying to think of ways to stop her mother from storming into the League’s base of operation.

“Maman, it’s me. I know you want to attack the League right this minute. But I have a better plan. Can you get Tikki’s earrings from Alix? We can use them and the ring to destroy the Lazarus Pits. Make them really angry.” She peeked out of the niche she was hiding in. She had been there for a while and needed to move to gain some grounds.

“Where are you? And are you okay?” Panic and worry filled her usually composed mother’s voice.

“I am somewhere in Nanda Parbat and I am fine. I was nearly married off to Talia’s son but I am not now. I think.” Marinette replied. Better to rip that band-aid off before she showed up with her would-have-been-husband. She jumped out of the niche and looked

“Kalki, Full Gallop. Okay, we will talk about the ‘nearly married’ part later. What was this plan to destroy the Lazarus Pits?” Sabine thought she was already used to Marinette’s brand of craziness that was her normal but apparently, not.

“I am currently on my way there. Plagg said we need Tikki to get rid of them. Since the League pissed me off and by extension you and the rest of the Guild, I thought our first move against them is to destroy the Pits and a trail of bodies. By the way, can you get some cheese for Plagg?” Marinette ran through the halls, knocking out some poor sod with a whack on the head.

Silence. She thought Sabine had hung up when-

“Voyage. Alix, where are you? We need Tikki for one of Marinette’s insane plans. And Marinette, stay safe, sweety, I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

“Bye, Maman. See you there.”

Marinette turned another corner, the last one before the path that leads to the entrance where the Lazarus Pits were. She only managed to find it with Plagg’s voice in her head, whispering directions and Tikki’s luck. Unfortunately, the luck ran out because the entrance had a lot of guards who had spotted her.

Crap.

She hoped her mother would get here soon. Thankfully, being transformed gave her a boost and would help her to hold her ground for a while.

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Damian and Red Hood followed the trail of unconscious bodies and sounds of fights, trying to find Lady. Damian was impressed at the level of her skills to defeat many of the League’s assassins although he could probably do better. They relied on his memory to find the Lazarus Pits which was their best bet to finding her as she claimed to be able to destroy them. If Lady possessed such powers, they must find out whether she is a threat to the world or not. And also break the infernal curse they have.

Red Hood was silent mostly. He made a few jabs about how kick ass his ‘bride’ was and how the current Robin should not let her get away. Damian tried really hard not to just maim his adopted brother and also ignore that little fluttering in his chest that happened every time they saw an unconscious assassin left behind by Lady. The sounds of fighting got louder as they got nearer to the entrance. They turned the final corner to see Lady fighting against the guards who outnumbered her. But she seemed to be doing fine against them. Mostly.

One had slipped through her defenses and nearly stabbed her in the back if it weren’t for Damian grabbing one of Red Hood’s guns and shooting a rubber bullet to the neck. He jumped into the fight, grabbing the fallen assassin’s sword and taking out the knife he got from his mother. Jason joined in too, not going to let the two teens have all the fun.

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“Thanks for the save, Al Ghul but I don’t know why you bothered when me being dead would solve your curse problem.” Lady said as the guards laid around them and they tried to catch their breath.

“It’s Wayne. I go by Wayne these days. Being an Al Ghul is not something I learned to be proud of. And as much as I don’t want this curse, your death is not worth that price.” he replied, “Although, I have to wonder why you would choose to die rather than live.”

She chuckled, “Okay, Wayne, to answer your question. Petty teenage drama makes death much more preferable. On top of that, I have responsibilities that I was practically forced into for doing one little act of kindness.” Her tone was joking but there was a touch of bitterness in it. It made Damian want to find out what caused it. Red Hood looked at her in concern. Lady went down the stairs, ignoring their reactions to her words. They followed her, not wanting to lose sight of her again.

The Lazarus Pits emitted a green glow that lit up the cave and cast strange shadows on the walls. At the edge of the glowing toxic green waters was a woman in dark blue clothing and strangely enough wearing sunglasses. Strapped to her sides were two Dao, ancient Chinese swords. She wore a vindictive expression on her face as she stood staring at the green lake, likely to kill anyone who gets in her way. Damian didn’t recognize the woman as part of the League but taking no chances, he got into a fighting stance and Hood did the same. Lady calmly approached the woman. He reached out to grab her to stop her suicidal nature when she shocked him by speaking to the blue-clad assassin in French,

“Hey, Maman, sorry I am late. I had a little trouble with the guards upstairs. You have Tikki?”

Lady’s mother rushed to hug her, “灵儿 (líng er), I am just glad you are alright. I knew you could handle yourself.”

How the hell did Lady’s mother get to the Lazarus Pits faster than them and snuck past several vigilant guards? Before Damian could question further, a red blur appeared and went to Lady’s face, hugging her cheek. It appeared to be the same size as Plagg but was red, looked like a bug and had a black dot on its forehead.

“Oh, Marinette, you are alright. I was so worried when your mother showed up, saying you were kidnapped and needed my earrings to escape.” Unlike Plagg’s nasally voice, her voice was sweet and shrill.

So, my bride’s name is Marinette. Such a unique name for an intriguing girl.

Wait what?

Wayne, stop thinking such ridiculous notions. That is probably the curse working. Resist against it. He will not be ensnared in the traps of such magic. He hoped that the curse will be reversed before he turns and act like those fools in Grayson’s idiotic shows or Todd’s ‘secret’ romance novels.

“I am fine now. See,” reassured Lady, “We actually need you and Plagg to reverse the Lazarus Pits to what it was before someone made the wish that resulted in them in the first place. Oh, I almost forgot. Plagg, claws in.”

Green light flashed, leaving Lady in her wedding robes (which actually flatter her body. Shit. Think of something else. Drake with a smug superior smile that needs to be wiped off his face. Grayson and his plans for ‘family bonding’) and Plagg to reappear.

“Cheese.” whined the cat-like kwami(?) to which the older woman held out a brown bag that smelled and made Plagg perk up in delight. He proceeded to open the bag, taking out a slice of stinky cheese, muttering about the greatness of camembert.

Todd cleared his throat and asked in English, “Umm...Pixie as much as your reunion is touching. Who’s the new lady?”

“Oh Right, sorry. Well, Red Hood, this is my mother, the Blue Reaper of the Guild of Night. Maman, this is Red Hood and the one next to him is my husband-to-be and Talia’s Spawn, Damian Wayne.”

Lady introduced them, also in English. Damian stilled in fear, recognizing the name. The Blue Reaper nearly became his mother-in-law. She was famous for her efficiency and ruthlessness. And gained her nickname from the blue clothing she often wore as she killed her targets. His eyes also widened at how his grandfather had gone a little too far now by kidnapping the Reaper’s daughter. There were other organizations that could possibly take down the League if it weren’t for the somewhat truce between Ra’s and the other leaders. The Guild was one of them and having the Lazarus Pits to revive their soldiers made the League a little more powerful. But if what the mother-daughter duo were planning succeeded, then the League was going to have one of its most deadly wars in its history and would probably never recover from.

“Tikki, Plagg, you guys ready?” asked Lady.

“Yes, Guardian.” They both replied and emitted a blinding red and green light which Damian shielded his eyes from. When it died down, the Lazarus Pits no longer glowed a toxic green and looked… like normal hot spring water.

“Oh. I wished I could see Ra’s face when he finds out.” Lady laughed. Plagg and Todd joined in.

“Pixie, I am beginning to like you.”

“Voyage. That being said, it’s time to go home, Marinette. Your father must be worried sick about us by now. I hope you boys can find your own way back.” A portal opened up, showing a cozy living room. Damian grabbed Lady’s wrist as she moved towards it.

“Wait, let us come with you. We need to contact someone to get rid of the curse on both of us. And we can also call our father to send us tickets for a ride home wherever you live.”

“Curse? Marinette, you never mentioned a curse in your call.” Blue Reaper said, raising her eyebrow.

“I will explain later. They can come with us and I am pretty sure Ra’s knows that we have escaped by now.” Lady grabbed the two brothers and dragged them through the portal.

She then threw herself onto the couch after releasing her hold on them and the two pocket gods went to comfort her after her ordeal. The Blue Reaper stood where the other portal was and fed a floating tiny gray horse, that must be the same species as Tikki or Plagg, some sugarcubes.

“You boys must be tired but the showers are upstairs and we might have some clothes your size. Dinner will be ready in an hour. You can stay the night if you want. Welcome to Paris.”

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Tag list: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0, @myazael, @tonicxworld, @thewitchwhowaited, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @kissa-chan, @iwantasecretidentity, @theymakeupfairies, @user00000003, @woe-is-me0, @kashlyn, @mochegato,@moonlightstar64 , @greatcatblaze, @moongoddesskiana, @tazanna-blythe. @tonicxworld, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @frieddonutsweets, @local-witch-of-mn, @lady-bee-fechin, @iglowinggemma28, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @k-tea-and-coffee, @jayjayspixiepop, @all-mights-asscheeks, @idk-j-go-with-it , @loysydark, @thenillabean, @lolieg, @zalladane, @silvergold-swirl

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(Part 5)

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain, blurb 2

The Promise of Rain (part 2?? technically) 

A/n I was not originally planning a second part for this but some people wanted it and this idea came to me and it works better with the context of ‘The Promise of Rain’ but it can technically be read as a stand alone :))

Anyways this might turn into a small series of kinda connected blurbs that are all kind of canon with each other but aren’t necessarily connected except for the reader’s background (the reader is a very sunshine-y person and knows Kaz bc she’s a runaway princess that he was hired to bring back home but she managed to convince him to let her work for him instead)

--

The night air had left me with a chill that made me want nothing more than to have my covers draped over me as I read. I’m normally more sociable after a job, especially after such a simple and safe ending, but a lot of tonight had left me wanting to be alone. 

Well, not truly alone. The company of my books is always welcomed, but tonight I can’t seem to find much comfort within the pages. After almost every paragraph, I find myself distracted by gusts of wind and thoughts of the heavy, silver clouds that seem to make up tonight. A part of me longs for the rain. I know it’s ridiculous to expect rain each time I desire some sense of comfort, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it. Especially when the sky so clearly implies it. 

“This must be the fifth time I’ve come here and you’ve been reading.” Kaz’s sudden appearance is almost enough to shake away my lingering somberness. 

I roll my eyes slightly, turning my attention back to the page in front of me. “That observation is just a testament to how often you come in here.” 

His glare is half hearted, a look I’d find endearing if I was less annoyed. “Where else am I going to find a reminder that good people exist in Ketterdam?” 

I think he may have a sixth sense that warns him when I’m treading the line between being annoyed and displeased. Everytime I find myself mad at him in a way that makes me want to avoid him instead of yell at him, Kaz makes some ridiculously heart-melting comment. He steps further into the room. I don’t miss the way he eyes my stretched out legs. Ever since the conversation we had after he woke up after an injury, we’ve fallen into the unmentioned habit of silently inviting the other to stay by moving to make room for them. 

It had started the day after the conversation in which Kaz had admitted that he wanted me to stay with him. He had been sitting on the small couch while discussing the details of a job. Shortly after I walked in he made a point of shifting so that he was clearly on one side of the couch. I didn’t think much about sitting down, but Inej and Jesper exchanged a look. 

Now, though, I keep my legs stretched out on the bed. He eyes my position on the bed, something grim crossing his features. 

“It might rain tonight.” 

He knows me so damn well. I hate it. “I hope so.”

I turn my head, analyzing the way the world seems to be on the cusp of something. I stare at the silver clouds until I feel something hard tap my leg. The tap is firm but not painful. I’m quick to look at Kaz as he lowers his cane. The mention of rain had been a distraction. 

“You distracted me on purpose.” 

“The first rule of the Barrel is to always be prepared.” There’s a slight uptilt to his lips, something I’ve learned to interpret as a sign of teasing. 

How is he so easy to be around one second and so cold the next? I resist a smile. “I’ll take notes.” 

Kaz ignores my passive aggressive tone. His focus seems to be on my legs that have still not moved to offer him a place next to me. “You wear your emotions too openly.” Great, he’s going to make us talk about it. “What reason could you possibly have to be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.” It’s a partial truth. 

His expression harshens. “Don’t lie.” 

“I’m not thrilled with you, but I don’t think that’s the same as being mad.” 

Kaz lets out a partial sigh. “No, they’re not the same.” Such an early concession feels like a trap. “With you, the first option is worse.” I don’t have anything to say to that. “Is this because of what I said to Jesper?” 

My posture straightens on instinct. “He wants your validation more than he’d ever admit and I understand that expressing praise isn’t exactly something you do, but would it kill you to not actively insult him?” 

“I didn’t say anything that was wrong. He thinks he’s a gambler but he’s just someone born for losses.” The look I give him must mean something to him, because Kaz is quick to tact on, “That doesn’t make him less valuable of an asset or less relatively dependable.” 

I eye him cautiously, the slightest bit of vulnerability playing at his features. “Don’t look at me like that--and don’t tell me that. Jesper’s the one who could use the occasional reminder from you that you hold him to any regard with positive connotations.” His lips press together like he’s thinking about scolding me for scolding him. “It’s only because I know you care more about Jesper than you’d ever let on.” 

“Jesper’s esteem can handle the blow.” The curtness of his voice is a blow in its own sense. “And he didn’t exactly deserve to be in my good graces after what he did tonight.” 

My sigh is not weighted enough to match Kaz’s newfound fountain of emotion. “We were successful--”

“He left you.” I didn’t know Kaz’s voice was capable of such harshness. “I paired him with you, and he left you--and you almost didn’t make it.” I let the weight of his words take up all the available space in the room, keeping the silence that follows them until some of the heaviness has dissipated. “He could have cost me one of my best people.”

Oh. His harshness, his unwarranted coldness, had been a manifestation of his concern. For me. Guilt knots my stomach. Potential words that may offer Kaz some sort of support raise and die back down in my throat. Kaz turns towards the door. 

“Kaz.” He pauses. There’s a long moment in which I think he won’t turn around, but finally, he does. I tuck my legs beneath me, forcing myself to sit up a little straighter. “I told Jesper to leave because I knew the job would have failed if he had been trapped in that room with me.” I drop my gaze towards the window. “I was right, the job was successful, and I got out in time so it was worth it.”

“You risked your safety?” The harsh facet of his being is making its return in full force. 

“For the job,” I’m careful to keep my words factual, “It’s what we’re supposed to do.”

Kaz’s jaw locks. “When I said that keeping you near me would ruin you this is what I meant.” 

Is it really this big of a deal? I made it out. “Kaz.”

“This wasn’t my best idea.” His words are leached of anything. “You’re going back home. Tomorrow I’ll arrange the voyage myse--” 

“Kaz Brekker you may get to live your life doing anything you want but you don’t get to control mine.” My chin raises an inch, an instinctual act of subtle rebellion. “I am not going back there, even if I’m technically indebted to you because you didn’t return me to my father but that does not mean I’ll--”

“I’m not trying to control you.” His words are sharp, boarding on a yell. “A job like that one wasn’t worth you.” 

From Kaz, I know those words are heavy. There’s a lot of things I could say to that. I could tell him that I wanted to do something for him. I could say that I appreciate him telling me that. I could even say that in his own way, Kaz giving Jesper a hard time because he left me, is kind of cute in a misguided way. The thing is I think all of these responses will make things worse. 

“Kaz,” I keep my voice as steady as possible, “I’m fine, you’re fine, it all worked out.” Scratching the back of my arm, I exhale gently. “I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.” 

I watch him carefully, there’s a slight slump to his shoulders as he exhales. Is the fight leaving him so easily? He walks further into the room. “You better.” He sits down in the space I provided for him slowly. “If you’re not you’ll have worse things to worry about than anything that can happen to you on a job.” He moves his cane forward easily, tapping my knee in a swift motion. 

I roll my eyes at the mock threat. “They do say that there’s nothing to fear in the Barrel like the Dirtyhands.” 

“Remember that.” Any edge in his voice is forced. I fight against a smile that seems to always want to break across my face whenever I think I see something resembling lightness in Kaz. 

“I don’t think I could forget anything about you.” 

He turns his head slightly. “You should.” 

“Too bad.” 

Kaz leans his back against the wall, untensing slightly. “I think you just like disagreeing with me.” 

There’s no point in lying about it. “Only because when you argue with me you give me this really particular look.” 

“A look?” 

Adding insult to injury, I smile. “Sometimes you look like you’re too focused on being angry, like you’re compensating for something.” 

Kaz lets out a bitter sigh. “Maybe if you were less of a puppy I wouldn’t have to--”

The laugh that escapes is most definitely a mistake. “Did you just call me a puppy?” I don’t give him a chance to reply, laughter taking over again. “I mean this in the least argumentative way possible--but you’re so weird sometimes.” 

He rolls his eyes, tensing. “I’m leaving.”

I stifle the rest of my laughter. “No. I was--I was kidding!” I keep my eyes on Kaz, expecting some type of annoyed glare, but his expression is a lot more weighted than that. Odd. “Kaz?” 

“You need to be more careful.” I understand Kaz’s pause as something he does before saying something outside of his nature. “I’m not asking you this as a Crow or a Dreg.” 

On instinct, my posture straightens. “I promised and I meant it.” 

“Sometimes I wish I could believe in Saints,” his voice has taken off a distant quality, almost fragile, “That way I could believe something existed to help what matters.” 

Oh. “You never fail, even if I didn’t believe in Saints I’d believe in you.” 

“You’re wasting your faith.” The sound of lightning cracking is almost enough to make me jump. The rain finally came. 

I know I’ll never convince him that that’s not true. “I don’t think so, but that’s why it’s called faith.” 

“I have faith in some things.” His expression is far off. 

“Like what?” 

Kaz’s eyes find the window. “People that find meaning in the rain.” 

Something in my chest swells. “You’re like the rain.”

We sit there in silence, watching raindrops glide down the window. “What were you reading?” 

The question has me dropping my gaze to the forgotten book on my lap. “I stole this book from the palace before I left. It was my mom’s favorite, she’s read it so much the spine’s completely cracked and the cover is practically falling off.” 

“Hm…” He mumbles. “Read some, the books read in a palace must be worthwhile.” 

A part of me wants to tell him that elitism has no place in literature, but his request leaves me frozen. I nod once, turning to the first page of the book. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife--” 

“Your upbringing makes sense--” 

“You can’t judge it off the first sentence,” he’s insufferable, “It’s setting up irony, and if you’re going to complain--” 

He lets out a conceding sigh. “I’m listening, I’m not interrupting.” 

I keep my eyes on him for a second longer than I should. “Okay.” Dropping my gaze back to the book, I adjust my grip on the worn paperback, “Good.” 

And then I keep reading. 

--

@theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship @mentally-in-northern-italy @uhanddreag 

[steps-to-parnassus]

dead men tell no tales reimagined as horror-action

thinking again about how dead men tell no tales had so much wasted potential to be a fantastic horror-action film. instead of focusing on j*hnny d*pp and his stale, washed-out-drunk “comedy” or trying to shoehorn in yet another love story to replace will and elizabeth, the writers/producers/directors should have taken a look at the absolutely phenomenal make-up, costuming, digital effects, and actors’ performances that they had on their hands for the crew of the Silent Mary, and at how the original script written by Ted and Terry heavily played up the horror element.

a horror-focused film would have been a breath of fresh air for the series and could have even made several other elements of the film (lieutenant scarfield, shansa, etc) work better. it would have made the idea of a “final adventure” ring much more true, and most of all, it would have harkened back to the horror elements prevalent in curse of the black pearl and ESPECIALLY dead man’s chest, which worked very strongly in those films’ favour.

just think about the possibilities (quite long, so i’ll put it under a cut):

ghostly hands coming out of the walls of the Monarch like in the trailer, but the viewer never sees what happens next. all we get are flashes of the massacre and Henry’s perspective, trapped in the brig with no light as he struggles to see and hears screams of terror and demonic shrieks of glee.

we don’t see the ghosts coming into the brig due to the darkness; all we see are golden pinpricks in the dark, noises of shuffling and agonized breaths and the sense that something is terribly wrong. they only appear to the audience as one of them brings a torch down into the brig for Henry’s benefit, and suddenly the Mary’s crew is revealed in all their terrifying glory to both Henry and us.

they stare and leer at him, and crewmembers in the background have red blood around their mouths. the audience gets the sense that they very much don’t want to let Henry go.

when we next see Henry in Saint Martin, he’s raving. he still meets Carina, still speaks with her, still agrees to help her, but he is terrified by what he has seen. he tells her about the corpses and the pools of blood he had to walk through to get to the Monarch’s longboat. he tells her how the demons watched him go with hungry eyes. he tells her that he can still hear the screams.

Scarfield does not seek to kill Henry just because he is a traitor - Scarfield sees him with Carina, whom he lusts after. Henry might help her off the island, might protect her. Scarfield wants him out of the way so that he might possess. he has heard plenty of the ghostly crew and cares not that they are attacking british ships - every officer not himself that dies is a greater chance Scarfield will be promoted in the seniority-obsessed ranking system.

Jack is doing well when we first see him, the cunning fast-talker we’ve always known him to be. it is only after the rumours of a ghostly crew with a captain calling himself Salazar spread like wildfire around Saint Martin that he starts trying to drown himself in liquor to assuage the bone-deep terror. 

when Salazar and his crew are freed, they don’t have a mild little cheer. no, they tear their hair and howl like madmen. they have been storing all their pain and hate against pirates and empires for decades - they are going to bathe the oceans in blood.

when we first see Shansa, she is hooded and cloaked, somehow able to track the movements of the dead. she takes her robe off and we see why: she is covered in scars from blades and fingernails and teeth, wounds left her when she was the “one man left alive” from a voyage into the Triangle many years ago, back when the Mary’s crew could not control their bloodlust as well as they can now. and that is terrifying to us - what they did on the Monarch was their version of being restrained.

we see the news of the dead crew spreading as they attack pirates and british ships alike. churches are overflowing with terrified citizens; people bar their doors and hold fast their rosaries and guns at night.

Jack’s crew were loyal to him up until they heard of the dead - now they must be paid off by Henry to rescue Jack, because every pirate in the Caribbean knows who Salazar is; and now that he is the undead, they daren’t let him find them. the rumours are coming back from men left alive that the crew of the Mary sing and laugh as they butcher without remorse, that the evil curse they lay under forces them to feast on human flesh just to keep going, just to feel anything. Jack’s crew do not mutiny later because he suggests it - they mutiny out of sheer terror.

the scene with Salazar and Barbossa’s first encounter is one of the few in the film where the horror element is quite prominent (the other being Salazar’s intro, and it isn’t a coincidence that these are two of the film’s strongest and most compelling scenes). very little about this would need to be changed to work, save for one thing: Salazar does not tap his sword five times at the end. instead he simply says, “you can take what’s left of them,” and nods to his lieutenant and his men, who all begin to smile as they turn to the crew. when we see them next, Barbossa’s crew are down to less than half. we never find out what happens to them.

when Salazar tells his story and we see the past, we are stunned. here is the crew of the Mary, working together, smiling, laughing at their victory. we see and hear them talking about how finally civilians will be safe; about how they can retire, go back to their wives and children and parents and siblings. we see them as normal men with a noble goal. 

we see them awake and scream in pain and terror, and it is on their agonized screaming at the start of their decades-long imprisonment that we cut back to the present. now we can understand, at least a little, how once-good men became monsters.

Carina, Henry, and Jack would have far more dramatic reactions to the Mary’s crew on the beach. for Henry, these are the demons that slaughtered an entire crew as he sat in the brig, trapped and helpless and terrified that his horrific end was imminent. for Jack, these are men whom he’s seen before as humans, and whose hatred and bloodlust is directed at him. for Carina, who has never seen ghosts before, she is struck dumb. these men have horrific injuries, and they are looking at her with detached curiosity and bloodlust that seems a thousand times more horrifying than the looks Scarfield gave her. she can almost see what they would have done to her had they caught her.

there is no ridiculous wedding scene on at hangman’s bay. instead, the locals saw the giant ghost ship sailing into their waters. they know who it is the demons want, but are not aware that the Mary’s crew cannot set foot on land. they intend to give Jack up to the ghosts in exchange for their own lives.

Salazar still executes Barbossa’s men in the name of the king. he is completely mad, but some part of him still thinks himself a righteous naval officer.

Scarfield wants the trident, but more than that, he wants to use it and Shansa’s knowledge to control these dead men. he remembers the reign of terror Beckett wrought with the Dutchman. he would see it repeated for his own personal gain.

in the ship-to-ship battle, Henry initially tries to defend Carina until he realizes that the ghosts aren’t attacking her. they want her to lead them to the trident so that they can seize it for themselves. our heroes do not yet know that they want to end their curse. in fact, the crew of the Mary don’t really know that themselves - they’d much rather have the pirates surrounding them dead to rights, and then free themselves.

every time one of the Mary’s crew is dissipated due to contact with land, the others react. they scream and howl and gnash their teeth and their eyes flare gold. the viewer can feel how much they would like to crush the heroes’ bones into pulp.

when Henry is captured, the officers of the Mary cannot take their eyes off of him. he is terrified for his life, shaking the whole time. when Lesaro mentions that they have tried possession before, the other officers mourn their comrades who became trapped in human bodies and slowly died of thirst, still unable to leave the Triangle, all because they wanted to see the sun again. the viewer is conflicted - are we supposed to pity these monsters? there are flashes beneath the madness that suggests that deep down, they just want to be human again.

when the crew’s curse is broken, we see more of it. we see limbs regrow, bodies knit together again. we see the bloodthirsty monsters we have come to fear laughing and weeping with joy, embracing each other. we hear their terrified screams for help as Salazar finally demonstrates that his own bloodlust was decidedly not the byproduct of a curse as was the case for his crew and pursues Jack.

Barbossa climbs down the chain to kill Salazar, but the former spanish officer deals a mortal blow. just as he is about to kill Barbossa, Jack himself decides to muster up his courage and sacrifice to save those dear to him, which throughout the films, he has always done. he falls from the anchor, and together with his rival-turned-best-friend, he plummets to his death with one last jaunty sweep of his tricorne hat.

there are many dead from the battle. Barbossa’s pirate empire is in ruins, and british power in the caribbean has taken a massive hit. people everywhere are terrified. Henry, however, finds that his terror has stopped and resolves to be a braver man after witnessing what Barbossa and Jack have done. Carina pledges to honour her father and never again to disbelieve in ghost stories. she decides to become a pirate.

in this bittersweet ending, a glimmer of hope: the Dutchman surfaces, with two new crewmembers. Will hangs up his hat to Jack, with Barbossa as his first mate, and Jack is finally reunited with Bill, who has made amends with Barbossa. the old captain-versus-captain dynamic is back - and destined to play out forever. with uncharacteristic solemnity, Jack vows to ferry Salazar’s crew to the other side so that they can finally rest.

Will climbs aboard the Black Pearl, where the crew has elected Carina Barbossa captain. he asks if she might sail him to Singapore - his wife is the pirate king and lord of the south china sea, and that is where she holds court. Henry and Carina, true pirates, share a kiss as the sun rises and our heroes head off to find new adventure. the nightmare is finally over.

[beggingwolf]

sidgeno: soulmate AU + erotic dreams

Sid's standing at a river.

He thinks it's a river. It feels half-formed. He can feel the rumble of the water under his feet. If he doesn't move, the flash flood is going to swell to his soles, ankles, knees, and sweep him away.

"Beautiful," he hears. It doesn't sound right. The word twists in his ears, and a large hand wraps around his elbow, pulling him a step back up onto the bank. "Careful."

Sid wakes up with a gasp. Across the room, the little blue S on his wall has fallen to the floor with a crack. It's his last night at home before he ships out to Minnesota. He'd heard his mom crying after Taylor had gone to bed.

Sid reaches up to touch his elbow. He can still feel the ghostly touch, heavy and strong.

Sid stays up for another hour, thinking it over. Replaying the sound of beautiful over and over again, even though that's not how it sounded in the dream.

He closes his eyes. He tries to say goodbye to home. He tries to push off the dream; he doesn't have the time to think about it, not now, not when—

-

"Beautiful," Sid hears. He lets out a shuddering breath. The hands are everywhere. There's a heavy weight between his legs. There's pressure on his stomach, on his chest. A mouth pressing to his neck. He needs to move. He needs to be touched, he—

The pillow hits his face hard.

"Take it to the showers, Croz!" Duncs groans, his bedsprings creaking as he rolls to turn his back on Sid from across the room.

Sid's face grows hot as he fumbles at his blankets. He slips out of bed, feet hitting the linoleum floor with a loud smack, and he grabs the first article of clothing on the ground—a hoodie, fine, that's fine—before making a break for the hall.

The light of the hallway is blinding, and Sid stumbles to the bathrooms to lock himself in a shower stall and breathe.

His boxers are wet.

Sid shudders on his next inhale. It's been... it's been so long since this has happened, but not like this, never with that voice in his ears or the feeling of a body that's bigger than his covering him so completely.

Sid's been looking at his teammates too much lately. He's been thinking about how tall Matty is, how he's got a wicked smile and a stupid laugh that rivals Sid's own.

"Fuck," Sid whispers to himself. It echoes off the yellowing tile.

-

Soulmates, Sid learned early, don't account for everything.

His mother told him that she'd had dreams of the Eastern Shore back at the height of the whaling trade. She'd remembered the scent of blubber burning, how his father's clothes would stink of blood and salt after he'd return from a voyage.

She had older ones, too. Ones of living in a cramped house in an old country with too many mouths to feed, spending her days working in a horrible factory and sneaking away to find a sweetheart in a back alley.

Older than that, even: one of his aunts liked to claim she could remember as far back to before electricity was discovered. His mom fondly told her sister she was full of shit, but Sid always wondered.

Then there was his grandmother, who never talked about soulmates at all. She was happy with Kenny, but Sidney knew Kenny was not his grandfather by blood. His grandmother was tight-lipped about it, even when the family was swapping dream-memories with each other like cards over the dinner table.

"Soulmates can mean a lot of things," Sid's uncle had told him out on the patio later. "Sometimes they're just the person that leaves the most scars on you."

Years later, as Sid tries to keep his eyes to himself in the locker room, he finally understands how his love could leave him with more scars than he could count.

-

It's a gentle touch to his hair. Long fingers playing in the curls. They're too long. They're always too long, it's not presentable, it's not to code, but war is cruel and bloody and Sid's fucking hair is the least of his concerns.

"Morning, beautiful," a low voice rasps to him. The words are tilted like they always are, but Sid understands. He always understands.

He turns, eyes still closed, and reaches out.

Lips connect with his. There's a dusting of pathetic stubble on both of their faces. The dry, cracked lips he's kissing are still the best thing he's ever felt.

"My watch shift's almost over," Sid whispers. His throat is hoarse, because last night he'd—god, he'd taken the whole length down, and it had felt good and powerful and if he died today he'd be okay with it, he thinks. The war has taken so much. At least he had this. "I need to go back."

"Stay," is murmured up against his mouth. The lips move up to press against his forehead, and the hand in his hair tangles in it, pulls him closer, drags him against a strong body, long legs tangling with his own.

He can feel a hardness pressing into his thigh, and he cracks open his eyes.

His head smacks against glass.

"Shit!" Sid snaps, jerking upright as the bus rolls over another curb.

"Sorry, fellas!" the driver calls, and there's an ugly chorus of groans from the Rimouski Oceanic.

"Jesus," Sid grunts, shifting back upright in his seat, yanking his backpack onto his lap. His skull is still rattling from the rude awakening, and he's achingly hard.

It's a small mercy he has the row to himself. He leans back and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the pain radiating from his head, and his hip where that stupid fucking Moosehead had laid into him, and his tweaked wrist from two weeks ago in Chicoutimi. The street lamps they drive under flare his eyelids pink and then black, again and again.

As he slows his breaths, the urgency fades out of his bloodstream. He's not hard up for it anymore. He's just sore.

More than the feeling of a heavy cock pressed against his leg, Sid misses the gangly arms that had been wrapped around him. He'd had to make out with a girl at a house party before they'd left for Halifax. The team had gotten too nosy, their teasing of Sid's prudishness tipping from "hilarious novelty" to "prying questions," and Sid had swallowed his anxiety and used it as fuel to find a girl and pull her into a corner in full view of half of the blue line and press his lips to hers.

It had felt deeply wrong.

He tries to keep his breaths even as he thinks about how right his dream had felt, and how that deep, sleep-weary voice sits in his skull like it belongs there.

-

Sid pulls his goalie pads off. His eye is swollen shut from the puck he took to the face in the second period; it happens once every few months, and it's incentive to be faster. He laughs as the team around him starts cracking open beers. Their captain lights a cigarette and leans back in his stall with a grin. They're on fucking fire, and they're going out on the town tonight.

Sid comes back home drunk. Drunk and happy and dumped unceremoniously on the steps of his Montreal townhome by his teammates, who cheerfully wave at Sid's roommate.

Sid's roommate.

Sid's roommate picks Sid up. Sid's roommate peels off his clothes slowly. Sid's roommate leads him to bed, where he tucks himself into the cave he makes out of Sid's chest.

Sid's roommate, who grinds back against Sid. Sid groans. He can't get it up, not like this, and his roommate laughs, a low noise, and tells him in the morning—in the morning they'll have some fun, he'll reward Sid exactly how he deserves.

Sid wakes up alone.

They've lost the Memorial Cup. He's still in London. He's not playing for the Habs in their glory days. He's not playing for anyone right now. The season is over. Tomorrow he gets to go home. He gets to hope the draft goes on.

He feels very small and lonely in his hotel bed.

-

The night before the draft, Sid dreams about getting fucked.

He's goddamn lucky Jack sleeps harder than the dead. He's goddamn lucky in so many ways, because he feels those big hands push his legs up, his thighs pressing into his stomach. He feels those chapped lips drag against his neck, his chest, his cock. He feels those long hands stretching him open.

He takes every inch. He gets fucked within an inch of his life. He's held down by that powerful body and he's never wanted something this bad, because it's good and right and he wants it more than anything. He's had it before, in another time, and Sid tells himself he'll find it again someday, he has to.

He comes so hard he cries.

Jack's still asleep when Sid wakes up and ducks into the bathroom. He lets the shower rain scalding water down onto him as he wipes the cum off of his hips.

-

Sid plays hockey in Pittsburgh.

He kisses a man for the first time. It's not his soulmate. He can tell; the man's fingers are too stubby, but he has wide shoulders and a smart smile and it feels good.

It leads to him getting his dick sucked. That's good too.

The dreams don't stop. He's in rural Canada. He's in some ancient country that looks foreign. He's in a busy city center that looks nothing like anywhere Sid has ever been.

He's always wrapped in those long arms, holding those delicate-looking, strong hands.

It's his second season, the morning after another dream—a bad one, where Sid had been old and arthritic and holding a cold hand in his—when Mario looks up from the morning newspaper and tells Sid Malkin will finally be getting in from Los Angeles that evening.

"It's been long enough, he should be out of his contract by the time camp starts," Mario says. "We'll have him over for dinner tonight, I think."

Sid doesn't dress up, but he does put on jeans and combs his hair in the bathroom before Malkin and his translator arrive. He should look presentable, he figures. They want to make him captain. He should make a good impression, especially after all that Malkin's been through.

The doorbell rings, and Sid hustles down the three flights of stairs to get to the foyer.

Malkin's big. Lanky, really, and golden from the California sun. He looks tired but happy, and he's staring at Mario with big eyes and a bigger grin, his chapped lips stretched wide. Sid knows the feeling well.

Malkin turns his gaze to Sid, and something wobbles in Sid's chest.

"Evgeni Malkin," he says, offering a handshake to Sid.

His palm is huge. His fingers are long and handsome.

Sid swallows and takes his hand.

[nightswithkookmin]

NO CAPTION

I love how this conversation is bringing out the homophobia in y'all's eyes😌

'Yall are scared Jimin will stop looking like a submissive gay man if he builds muscles'

So y'all think Jimin looks like a submissive gay man without his muscles????????

Huh????

Isn't this the very thing I'm ranting over in these posts? That people think he looks gay and a sub/bottom and that he doesn't look like a real man because of the way he looks??

Isn't that why they are fixing him to look more masculine in these ads????

Y'all think him building muscles will change his sexual orientation if he is in deed gay and a sub???

There is nothing wrong with being gay or sub or bottom or whatever any gay queer person might be into. THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT! Omg!

Muscle building is not for men only.

This is Namjoon's cousin. What about her makes her less feminine??????????????

Should she get longer nails? Bigger hoops? May be a Brazilian butt lift? Botox? Fillers? In order to look more traditionally feminine?

If she decides to stop working out or drink stuff to lose muscles so she can be seen as more feminine do y'all not think that would be ??? because she is feminine regardless?

What about these women make them less feminine????? They build up too and they are women.

Jimin with or without muscles is still an androgynous man. Building muscles does not erase his androgynousity. That is Jimin.

He is an androgynous MAN not woman. Looking skinny is not what makes him androgynous. Putting on make up and wearing feminine clothes is not what makes him androgynous.

We've been calling him androgynous from day one when he debuted and it's not because he didn't have muscles. He had them in abundance. so I find it weird that you will think we gay people are worried he is leaning into his masculinity- when the question we are asking is WHAT AT ALL IS MASCULINITY?

Didn't he ask the same questions when he asked his band mates, man man man- what the heck is man- when they said men shouldn't wear rings on their pinkie?

That was an iconic moment and I wish I could write a dissertation on it. Super iconic.

Is he a sex icon? Absolutely. Is he a queer icon? Yes. But he is not a gay God. No body is looking up to him to liberate them from no damn queer oppression- love how you trivialize and make fun of LGBTQ issues.

Really sista? You had to go there? And you say you are a Jikook supporter?? Interesting.

I think Tae put it best when he said Jimin may look cute and pretty on the outside but when he takes off his clothes that's when you see he's more masculine. I think for some of us, we've always seen Jimin as very masculine in his expressions and very experimental in his expressions of femininity. I've always seen him as grounded in his masculinity than feminity- although he does suffer from toxic masculinity every now.

I'm simply saying this may be one of those times. Emphasis on may be. I'm over it. Just took note of it.

When it comes to exercising, the members have said he used to be the one who trained the hardest in dance rehearsals. Didn't RM say he and Jin used to look up to him and learn from him because he is well disciplined?

He's always exercised. Y'all think him flipping through the air and defying gravity comes from a lack of exercise?????

This is the few times he's talked about exercising as a social male bonding activity with his members and even encouraged Hobi to join them. If you think he will look more masculine climbing rocks and building muscles then you are part of the problem I am trying to address here.

Do y'all not watch Bon Voyage and Run and Winter package? Do y'all not see him "be manly" and "lean into his masculinity" in those contents? Did he not say he wanted to go do yoga with the others but chose instead to go to the brewery with Yoonkook?

Out of curiosity, let me ask- which is the two options was the least masculine activity? I'm genuinely curious.

And no, I am not uncomfortable seeing him lean into his masculinity. I am uncomfortable watching him straddle the line of toxic masculinity and it's not limited to him. I think I have expressed similar sentiments with regards to JK and RM and Suga and the rest.

And no. It's not toxic that he is exercising or wants to exercise. I question that he wants to build muscles and look a certain way as a man especially if that way is the only way he and y'all think a man should look like.

I don't know about you but this looks pretty masculine and feminine to me.

As does this. He can look like the incredible hulk and I'll still see him as androgynous.

Now don't get me started on his upper lips and BigHit constantly concealing his upper lips with make up. Don't get me started on that! 😡

They are always erasing and tweaking something when it comes to Jimin! Always! I HATE IT HERE.

Jimin is not the first androgynous man in Kpop nor is he the only androgynous man in kpop. He doesn't have to be gay or queer to participate in social discourse.

And I understand that queer and gender issues may not be of importance to y'all cis straight folks but it is important nonetheless and BTS have dabbled in the discussions and voiced out their opinions on it. They are advocates for the youth and that includes gay queer folks.

How many times have they talked about same love? That their BT21 characters are genderless, that clothing shouldn't be restricted to specific genders? Jk have said he hates oppression and Jimin talks about self love and acceptance for all- you think gay people are not included?

They don't have to be gay to be gay representatives and "Gay Gods." Heard of Allies?

And when you say BTS are human not representatives- you kidding right???

Have you seen BTS issue statements on Black lives matter, on Racism and Asian hate crimes etc?

Yes, they human beings.... who care about other human beings and their oppressions. Y'all praise these men for wearing unisex brands and genderless fashion and praise them for when they voice out on certain issues... except when it comes to gay issues? I see y'all's colors.

Also you ship Jikook but it pisses you off that we say Jimin is gay??? 👀

Jimin gay. Jungkook gay. Jikook gay. Does this annoy you? 👀

They are fucking eachother. Do you wanna block me? 👀

JK fucks Jimin. Jimin fucks JK. Are you dead yet? 👀 Do you wanna kill me? 👀

I don't see them as straight honestly. If I did and I thought they were facing straight issues I'd be talking about those too. I see them as gay dealing with gay issues that we all deal with and I talk about that.

Credit to the artist. I think that photo of Jimin from On MV is one of my favorites.

I might have to frame it and hang it on my wall.

Don't have any hard feelings against you but I thought I would address certain problematic statements you made.

Love,

GOLDY