#these three on a deserted island would be DONE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

randomsuggesteduseername · 3 months ago

Text

—I WANT IT ALL

—MASTERLIST

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

wc: 5.7k

contains: hurt Steve, fluff, mentions of death and the upside down, kissing

a/n: heyyy this is my first fic i hope i did it right and that you enjoy!!!

When the world split open a little over three months ago everything changed. You’re still not sure if for the better or worse, but what was sure was that you weren’t alone. The family you gained when you got dragged into this whole supernatural mess has stuck with you through thick and thin, not abandoning you when you needed them most.

For sure it’s an unconventional family, consisting of traumatised teenagers and some young adults you’ve only fleetingly seen in your high school days, yet you’ve never felt more loved and protected in your life, now when real danger is roaming on the ruined streets of Hawkins.

“Coast is clear for now.” Steve announces as he pulls the backpack full of weapons and necessities for his weekly patrol shift off his shoulders, though the weight of the whole situation still hangs heavy. Your eyes lift to instinctively give him a head to toe look to make sure he’s okay, it’s an instinct you’ve developed in time, one you’ll probably never get rid of. Robin and Eddie engage in some hushed small talk about something not so interesting at the kitchen island while they prepare some lunch packs for the refugees still inhabiting Hawkins High.

Three months ago, the high school became a safe space for anyone in need of shelter or medical attention. You’ve been one of the coordinators for the supplies which could still be saved from the ruined stores throughout the town, but as time went on, that responsibility stuck with you, now partnering with chief Hopper who handles the transport of boxes and boxes of food, clothes and medication being dropped off weekly by the military.

“How many do we have?” You ask Robin, holding the pen tightly in your hand, the tension ever present in your body. She ties the bag after adding a bottle of water before she starts counting while Eddie finishes the pack he’s working on. “About 36,” You nip your lip in thought, barely aware of Steve plopping onto the armchair in the living room, before you speak out.

“Okay, we need five more bags, and then Hopper can come and pick them up.” Moving into the living room, you grab your handy walkie talkie and rub a knuckle at your eye while you turn it on, calling out for Hopper, waiting in radio silence for a few moments before his voice comes through, confirming he’s going to come and pick them up.

The only people left in Hawkins are the ones who want to help the cause, some of the locals who are still too injured to leave, and a few military volunteers. That would sum up to about 100 people. It’s safe to say that the town, or what’s left of it, is deserted, but something has kept you all here, a sliver of hope that you’ll be able to stop this once and for all, and from the stories you’ve heard, the gang has done exactly just that three times before.

Putting the walkie talkie down, you decide to take a seat on the worn out couch in the living room, your head tilting to the right slightly as you gaze at Steve, reading his body language as you realise how tense and troubled he is too. “How was the patrol? More Dogs?” Questioning as you’re aware of the danger he faces each time he goes out, you know how brave he is for that and you can’t help but admire it. Having been a witness to his wounds when he and the rest of the older group emerged from the gate between worlds, he still chooses to go back out and face those creatures again.

“Yeah, the Bats seem to be distracted by the decoy we put up in the woods, but the Dogs are really cornering us lately.” You can see the worry in the line between his brows, your chest tight at the thought of smoothing out that crease with your fingertips, but you know that will have to wait for later. “Hop says something about a military weapon they’ll give us to fend off the dogs, so I hope it comes soon…”

Nodding, you look back at Robin and Eddie as they start moving the bags to the back door from where Hopper will take them and load them into the truck, you sigh before your eyes are on him again, lightly knocking your foot to his shin, trying to muster up your best comforting smile. “It’s going to be fine…Hopper always has these things under control.” You assure him as you trust that the chief will do his best to keep everyone safe, your small smile doesn’t fall as he nods curtly and lets his lips curl up a bit too.

—

Nancy and Jonathan came home soon after darkness fell over the town, they’ve been volunteering for the community, Nancy as a gunman and Jonathan occasionally staying on watch on the cameras placed all over the town. So dinner was shared between all of you which was somewhat of a rare occasion.

The canned vegetable stew didn’t take long to warm up, and despite the added salt it still tasted off, leaving a depressing tang in your mouth which was enough of a reminder of the current situation.

Sharing a look with Steve, you can see the need for some time off, some dark bags beginning to form under his eyes, his skin a bit more pale than usual. Wondering if all he needs is sleep, you lift your hand to your ear, tugging lightly on the lobe of your ear to signal to him silently that he can have your attention if he needs it.

The thing between you is as vague as it can get, not bothering to label it or try to make something of it other than a way to establish human contact and trying to get your mind off things, the last thing you’d need right now is a relationship. You pull your gaze back to the small bowl of soup in front of you once he mirrors the gesture, letting you know he’ll meet you after everyone else falls asleep.

The rest of the night is quiet, just some mindless chatter amongst all of you, and a game of Charades cut short once Eddie and Robin started bickering about how Eddie is not fit for the acting part at all.

Soon enough you’re moving up the stairs, pushing open the door to your shared bedroom, finding Robin already in it, her back turned towards the door as she lays on her side. You’re used to sharing a bed with her, so the sight is enough to let you know she’s about to fall asleep. Not wanting to disturb, you carefully lay down on your side of the bed and stare up at the dark ceiling, trying to not let the anxiety wave wash over you as you lock your fingers over your stomach while you patiently wait for the pattern knocking you know all too well.

And it comes just about thirty minutes later. Your eyes open again, though you were not even close to falling asleep. Padding to the door, you look back at Robin to make sure she’s still sleeping. You open the door and let your eyes take him in, tall and broad just as ever, though his shoulders are sagging a bit, no doubt feeling the tiredness creeping up on him.

Stepping out of the bedroom, you silently close the door behind you and follow Steve as he leads you to the bathroom. It might not be the best hangout spot, but at least you know no one will see you there.

That’s what you agreed on. Keeping it all a secret, involving yourself in a relationship is the last thing you need with the apocalypse already unfolding, so you two settled on secret meet ups in the downstairs bathroom, sometimes, if there’s less people in the house, even daring to hang out in the living room.

He lets you inside first before he follows and locks the door from the inside, leaning back to rest against the door while you hop onto the counter, lightly swinging your legs as you take a look at him. It always starts with keeping the distance and barely glancing at one another, though it never ends like this. You two are like magnets, especially when you’re alone and no one’s prying eyes are there to witness and judge.

“What’s going on, Steve.” You ask him softly to open up, tilting your head as you give him some time to think of an answer, biting your lip to suppress the urge to reach out for him. “I know you think you’re hiding it well….but I can see something’s not right.” At that, his gaze lifts, a tinge of something sad in his gaze, something which has your chest squeezing.

“I can’t do this anymore.” He murmurs, head leaning back to thump softly against the wooden door. “Can’t hide like I’m some kind of rat, stuck inside this cursed town.” You understand the feeling well enough, knowing that it seems like this will never end, that you’ll spend the rest of your days in this gloomy, dangerous version of the town you once loved.

You extend a hand towards him, watching the way he ponders that choice and ultimately decides to let his fingers thread between yours, squeezing while you pull him closer, letting him step between your legs as you settle your hands on his arms, rubbing soothingly while his palms press to the counter just shy of your bare thighs.

“You know how brave I think you are, right?” You smile softly, squeezing his biceps as he nods, his head hanging low, staring down at the white tiles on the floor. “We are going to figure out a plan…and we’ll execute it. Can’t believe in saying this, but it’s worked before, it has to do now too.” You can’t find anything better to tell him, not being sure of how much longer you’ll be able to hang on by this thinning thread.

Your hand travels up over his shoulder, fingers tracing his jaw before you tilt his head up to face you properly with a finger under his chin, your eyes getting lost in his momentarily like they always do. Taking a breath, you push some hair off his forehead, watching as he leans into the contact to let your fingers stay at the back of his head to play with his hair, soothing him as best as you can while feeling his arms wrap around your middle as he links his fingers behind your back.

Silently, he leans into your shoulder, placing his forehead there to rest, while you wrap your arms around him. It’s a silent tangle of limbs, your body warmed up by his touch and suddenly you mind seems to relax.

Letting out a satisfied sigh as his grip tightens on you, closing your eyes you let your nails trace softly over his back, feeling his body slacken a bit more, the tension leaving you both. This has become almost like a coping mechanism for both of you, a safe space to pretend like things aren’t the way they are, at least for a short amount of time.

His hands lay flat over the small of your back, index finger lightly pushing up under the hem of your shirt to brush above the waistband of your pajama pants, feeling the skin there as if it’s his guilty pleasure. Smiling to yourself as he tries his best to keep himself in check, knowing sometimes he’d like to pretend he’s not as needy as he really is, you coax him closer as your legs wrap around his waist and you tilt your head to the side, pressing some small, chaste kisses from the base of his shoulder to his neck, murmuring softly that won’t judge.

“Need anything, baby?” Asking in a soft tone, aware how much he likes to just be pampered since he always has to keep up a tough front and push through any of the hardships he faces daily, your words making a sound rumble deep within his chest which makes you smile. Pressing a longer kiss behind his ear, he turns his head to nudge his nose into your neck before you cup his cheeks, pulling his head back up to yours to watching his hooded eyes and slightly parted lips. So pink and inviting, you take a deep breath as you tear your gaze away from his mouth, focusing instead on how close he is to your face.

Whatever went on during these late night rendezvous sessions, you never crossed the line beyond comforting touches and soothing kisses. He never made a move for more, and neither did you, because the rules were pretty clear when you agreed on just using each other to relax.

—

Late nights with little to no sleep were an usual thing at this point. Sometimes you find it easier to lay awake than fight yourself to get some sleep, which is what you’re doing now, staring at the thin sliver of moonlight slipping through the thick curtains parted just a bit, as if it’s got you in a trance. You remember the nights spent back at home, finding the moonlight soothing, but now it seems to have the exact opposite effect.

The white, cold light makes you shudder, reminding you of the dangers lingering outside, ready to get you at any time. You shift uncomfortably, turning your back to Robin and the window, but you’d be a fool to think that it’s all it takes to finally settle down for the night.

Almost ten minutes later, when sleep is still a stranger, you decide to get up and take a short trip to the bathroom. Tiptoeing carefully to the one down the hall, your eyes focus on the door, a sudden wave of light blinding you as it opens, making you cover your eyes and stumble back against the wall behind. “Fuck..” You murmur and rub at your eyes before attempting to open them again, finding Steve in the doorway, a slightly sorry look in his eyes as he apologises and steps aside.

“Sorry, didn’t hear you coming.” You nod and take another look at him, his eyes bloodshot, his chest heaving a bit and his hair a mess, though not the kind you find cute when he comes downstairs for coffee in the morning. “What happened?” You prod carefully as you tilt your head to take a better look at his face, confirming to yourself that he looks like he’d been crying before you accidentally interrupted him.

It took you a while to coax it out of him once you pushed him back inside the bathroom and locked the door behind you, but ultimately you ended up hugging. His stuttered breathing seemed to instantly calm as well as his shaking body. There was something about you which had his brain turning off, leaving his mind worry-free. He grabbed at your shirt, let his fingers curl tightly into the cotton while he pulled you flush to him, his face hiding into the crook of your neck.

The position was slightly awkward due to the height difference but he didn’t seem to mind it, more so, he let out a soft sigh which had him melting even more into your arms. This thing…kept you going for months, it got you looking forward to something, a feeling which had been long gone for a while. So you both clung tightly to what you had, and decided to guard the secret, because this was not something romantical, nor something which friends do.

Blurring the line between the two was dangerous, yet you never seemed to care each time you ended up tangled into the bathroom, stroking soothingly at one another while you let silence surround you.

—

“Speak, Stevie.” You pout softly as he doesn’t seem to be in the mood to tell you what he needs, still wearing that frown which dents a line between his brows. You catch his gaze lingering on your mouth, wondering if he’s aware he’s doing that or not. You take a breath and follow his hand with your gaze as it leaves the small of your back, coming up to cover the side of your face and jaw, pinky finger resting on your neck while his thumb reaches up to rub your temple, the rest of his fingers curling gently at the back of your neck, anchoring his hand there.

You stare at him, unsure of what to say or even do, having never been put in this situation with him before. His eyes squeeze shut, seemingly having an inner battle with himself, his grip lightly tightening onto your face as you gasp softly, hands finding support on his chest, gripping at his shirt, fingers holding onto his collar.

You stay like that for what feels like hours, when in reality your hearts beat so fast time seems to slow down. “Steve?” You try again, wondering if your voice will break him out of the trance he’s been put in, his eyes opening again, pupils visibly swollen in size as he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing yours, having your heart lurching into your throat in surprise, you gaze nervously at him as he pulls back, letting his hand fall from your face which leaves behind a coldness which greets your skin.

“I’m sorry.” The words strike you momentarily, unsure of what’s going on, or even what he’s apologising for, all you know is that despite your promises to one another about what this would always be, you felt open to crossing the line the moment he showed just a bit of interest in doing so too. You hug yourself once he steps away from you, leaving you with an empty and cold feeling along your skin, watching as he leaves the bathroom with nothing but a brief glance over his shoulder.

—

Emergency meeting is not something you’d want to wake up to. Especially after a sleepless night.

Usually after meeting up with Steve you’d go back to bed and easily fall asleep until the morning, but this time you could barely lay still, thoughts of what this meant for you crossed your mind multiple times, your skin prickling with goosebumps each time you remembered how hot his breath felt over your lips, how intense his gaze had been when you locked eyes.

So now, getting dressed and trying to pull yourself together you realise it’s not an easy task.

You rush through the house, as do Eddie, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan. You briefly wonder where Steve is, not wanting to ask but luckily at some point Eddie mentions that Steve had to leave early to help Hopper at Hawkins High.

Once you’re dressed up, you slip your combat knife into the side of your boot, jumping into Eddie’s van along with the others. You sigh as you let your knee bounce slightly, wondering if something bad is happening.

The drive to the high school is not too long, though Eddie had to drive slower than usual in order to make as little noise as possible, but you don’t think that beast of a van can be anything remote to silent. Gazing out the window, you’re met with the familiar sight of split pavement oozing with black vines, the occasional group of bats swarming the area in search of some sort of food, no doubt searching for humans.

Getting out of the rusty van, you sigh as you follow the group inside, gathering in the gym where the meetings usually take place. Seeing some people already gathered, you let your eyes wander, guiltily searching for that pair of hazel eyes which has your heart skipping a beat. Maybe he snuck out of the house before everyone woke up in order to avoid having to talk to you or even see you.

But believing that would be entirely too self-centred when there could be a crisis on the way. Waving slightly at hopper, fully dressed in camo and carrying numerous weapons just as usual, you approach him with a small smile.

“Hey…is everything okay?” Asking to gauge his reaction, wondering if it’s really something to worry over or not. He squeezes your shoulder and assures you that there’s nothing to worry too much about. The breath you let out empties your lungs and relaxes you. Thanking him, you take a step back before the sound of familiar heavy boots scruffs across the floor, coming to a stop behind you.

You don’t have to turn around to see who it is when the deep rumble of a voice comes out, making your thoughts briefly fill with the images from the previous night.

Turning around, his eyes fall onto you for a brief moment before seems to pull himself together and talk to Hopper. Taking the sign, you bite your lip and decide to leave them to talk alone, heading back to the rest of the group.

Immediately being bombarded with questions about the meeting, you shrug, letting them know that it’s not something too bad, and that Hopper wouldn’t tell you exactly what this is about. Feeling a sort of tightness in your chest, you sigh, trying to get rid of it. Unsure why his indifference to you suddenly made you feel some sort of way it never did before.

Turning your attention to Hopper as he starts talking to the group of people who managed to join you into the gym, your brows furrow as he mentions needing some volunteers to go out in the woods, saying two of the people living here went missing after they allegedly left and couldn’t find their way back.

Taking a deep breath as you know how dangerous the forest can be, your eyes widen as Hopper mentions that the volunteers need to talk to Steve so they can be put on the list. Wondering why he wants to join the search party, you suspect it has something to do with what he said the night before, about not being able to stay hidden any longer, knowing that putting himself out there isn’t really a smart move.

Seeing a few men volunteering to go out, you toy with your fingers, taking a look at Steve again, though this time he’s already looking at you, his eyes snapping away as if he’s been caught red handed, you knowing you should talk to him about what almost happened the previous night.

“He’s insane…dingus needs to learn his place sometimes…” You hear Robin talking to Nancy behind you, clearly disapproving of Steve’s initiative as well as you do. You try to keep silent, continuing to listen to them as Nancy says that he’ll always want to help, being in his nature to protect.

Aware that’s true due to the stories the kids told you about him, how the great Steve fought the Dogs so effortlessly, and how he kept the upside down creatures at bay with only his infamous nail bat. You still feel worry gnawing at your stomach.

Not long after the meeting ends, Steve comes to greet the group, but he doesn’t get to as Robin immediately voices out her concern. “It’s a death sentence, dingus…think about it!” She presses again, tapping the side of his head with her fingers, trying to get her point across, though it seems to fall on deaf ears.

“She’s right.” You speak up, ignoring the thought that he might not care about what you think. “You’re already putting yourself in enough danger as it is with the patrols.” Your eyes settle onto him, seeing him briefly thinking about it before he lets out a deep breath.

“Those two people are still out there, we need to save as many of us as we can, so I’m not going to wait around for them to die.” He speaks, seemingly set on his choice, and you know whatever you’re going to say, it won’t be enough for him to give it up. Nodding in defeat, you watch as he lets you all know not to wait up for him since he’s probably going to come home late.

—

“Mrs. Click started staring at me as if I was the one eating in her class…” You laugh as Robin tells you about her time in high school since you didn’t have the luck to share any classes with her back then. “And guess who was munching on pringles, high as a kite, behind me.” You cover your mouth and laugh, whisper shouting at her.

“I didn’t know he smoked.” Slightly shocked to find out Steve used to smoke weed in high school, you shake your head and smile, toying with a loose thread on the sleeve of your sweater, your gaze lifting to Robin again as she asks about you and Steve. “Hm? What about it?”

Slightly nervous of her sudden curiosity, unsure what she’s going to want to ask next, you breathe in as she says that she keeps catching you staring at one another, wondering if you’ve really been that obvious about it.

Catching the suspicious look she gives you as you insist everything’s okay, even more than that, you shift on the couch as she says that it’s time for her to go to sleep, asking if you’re coming now too. “I don’t think so…I’ll stay up for a bit longer.” You murmur as you swallow down, shifting as you look out the window, the night outside turning everything black, making it hard for you to see.

Closing your eyes for a bit, you tell yourself you’ll go up soon, though the more you sink into the couch the harder you find it to keep track of your thoughts, soon enough your head lulling to the side, falling into a soft sleep. Barely managing to rest, your unconscious thoughts keep leading you back to him, as if he’s put some kind of spell on you which is holding your mind hostage.

It wouldn’t be so bad if you wouldn't have promised yourself that there will never be something between the two of you, that you’ll end it before you can let your feelings get the better of you. But now, being faced with the exact thing you feared you realise that you don’t want to stop seeing him. You can’t.

It’s strange, getting attached to someone you don’t even know that well, who occasionally gives you some attention, yet, the moment the front door opens, you jolt slightly, waking up as your head turns to the door to find Steve coming inside.

“Hey. Done with the search party?” Asking softly, trying not to scare him as you were waiting in the dark, his head nods as he lets out a pained breath before he bends down to pull off his boots. Standing up with a frown, taking in his stance, you wonder if he’s hurt, your worries being confirmed the moment he grunts and clutches his side as he stands up straight.

Rushing to him, you watch how his palm presses over the side of his waist, lightly hooking your hand around his elbow as you silently bring him to the bathroom. He trusts you, so he lets you guide him inside the bathroom, the bright bathroom light having him twitch slightly. “I’m okay, it’s not that bad.” He tries to sound reassuring, but the way he leans back against the counter and clutches it tightly might suggest otherwise. Helping him shuck off his bomber jacket, you let it fall on the floor, tucking some hair behind your ear as you grab the hem of his sweatshirt, pulling it up as your gaze falls into the bat bite mark against his ribs.

Some anger rises into your throat, wanting to break down and tell him that you were right to worry about him, but all you find yourself able to do now is tut gently and start searching for the first aid kit. Taking the red box out, you look for the antiseptic as you pour some on a clean rag. Hesitating for a moment as you take a look at him, you speak softly, giving his wrist a comforting squeeze.

“Stay still, please.” He nods, breaching for the wave of pain once you start cleaning him carefully. Thankfully the damage is not that bad, looking like the bat barely got to latch on, but the canine marks go pretty deep into his flesh. Whispering soft apologies from time to time, you breathe in and throw the rag into the sink once his skin and wounds are clean. Pulling out a bigger bandage to fit the twin puncture marks, you wrap his wound up, his voice coming out soft from above you.

“I went through worse…it’ll be fine.” What he means by worse you know pretty well, the scarred tissue along his sides, back and the clear mark along his neck are proof enough of what ‘worse’ means for him.

“Steve, shut up.” You mumble, not being very fond of the memory of patching him up, how raw and hurt he looked will always stick with you. Sighing as you take a step away from him, letting his sweatshirt fall back down, you gaze at him for a moment too long before you look at the floor.

“Did you wait up for me?” He questions as he seems to carry a sort of hopeful glint in his eyes that you did stay downstairs to see him get home safe. Feeling like you’ll embarrass yourself by saying yes, you shrug and mumble. “I- I guess I fell asleep.”

“Oh,” Watching him purse his lips, the silence settles between you as you wonder if bringing up what happened the other night is really a good idea. “It’s late..” He murmurs, wondering if he’s just trying to send you away, but you shake your head, lifting your gaze as you feel a sting crawling its way to your eyes, lifting your hand to tug on the lobe of your ear.

His eyes immediately clock onto the gesture and he does the same, reaching out for you as if he was waiting for you to initiate the contact he’s been needing so much too. Biting your lip, you wrap your arms around his waist, letting yourself grip his sweatshirt as his large hands splay over your back, rubbing soothingly as he lays his chin on your head, making your eyes close as he envelops you fully.

Taking a deep breath, you ponder the consequences of asking him about the near kiss you shared the previous night, keeping your face against his chest, as if it’ll protect you from facing the embarrassment of rejection, you breathe in and close your eyes.

“Last night….did you- did you want to kiss me?” You wait for an answer you’re afraid might not come, wondering if he’ll flee on you again. His grip tightens slightly on you, hands stilling over your back as he takes in a breath. You can hear the cogs turning in his head, wondering if this is your cue to step away from him and leave.

“If I did…would it be so bad?” Asking softly as your breath hitches, you dare to pull your head back from his chest, gazing up at him as you nip on your lip in thought. “No, I guess not.” Your fingers fiddle with the cotton of his sweatshirt as you nervously gaze up at him, your heart lurching in your throat as he cups the side of your face just like he did the other night, this time the touch doesn’t feel so fleeting.

Eyes twinkling as you stare up at him, following the way his gaze dips down to your lips again, making you press yourself closer for him, silently begging him to do it.

The first thing you feel is the way his hair tickles your forehead, followed by the bump of his nose into your cheek, making your eyes fall shut in anticipation before the plushness of his lips cover yours. Soft and warm, they move against yours as if he’s trying to get to know you better, his thumb soothing you with stroking motions over your cheekbone while he pulls back for a moment, smiling to himself as he finds your eyes still shut, leaning in to chase his lips.

His chuckle has you opening your eyes, a crimson blush spreading over your cheeks as he speaks, smiling lightly. “Greedy…” You open your mouth though it shuts again as you give his chest a soft shove, smiling too as he doesn’t waste much time, kissing you once again. Humming into it, your hands lift to the back of his neck, hooking them there to keep yourself upright, as if his kisses don’t make your legs turn to jelly.

Sensing you're in need of support, he wraps his arms around you, switching places as he hikes you up onto the kitchen counter, like you usually stay when you’re here together. Brushing his hand over your arm, he traces his fingertips down to your hand and laces your fingers together, resting your hands against your thigh as he lets his tongue be a bit bolder, licking a thin line over your bottom lip which has you letting out a soft, embarrassing sound.

Smiling into it, his lips part as he lets the kiss get deeper, humming softly as you arch and settle your arm along his shoulders, you tilt your head back as he pulls away to watch you. Biting your lip at the flush which lingers onto his cheeks, his eyes creasing lightly at the edges due to his smile, you hum and give his lips a soft peck, looking down at your locked hands.

Maybe these are not the best circumstances to start a relationship, maybe you’re supposed to push him away, but how can you subject yourself to this lonesome existence when you’re constantly in danger?

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve x reader #stranger things season four #steve harrington fluff #fem reader #joe keery #stranger things fic #fanfic #first post #⋆⑅˚₊ stevie

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writing-until-i-drop · 4 months ago

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The Devil Doc & The Flyboy | Sneak Peek

Hangman x Marine Corpsman-Devil Doc!OC

Every time Fiona "Kitten" Reid is deployed, something bad happens. Win-a-medal type bad. And when Warlock is looking for a survivalist instructor for the Daggers during the uranium mission, he's shocked that the top recommendation from his colleagues is a young medical corpsman the Marines she served with dubbed "Kitten." After making a grand entrance at the expense of Jake's older brother and Bob's sanity, Fiona finds herself squarely in Hangman's sights. But he better pay attention in class because her lessons come from more than a textbook...

“Corpsman Reid, at ease.” The Rear Admiral better known as Warlock motioned for her to take a seat. It was the first time that morning she was happy to be in uniform, she would have felt naked in scrubs.

“Sir,” She dug her short nails into her palm under the table, keeping her composure even as her pulse skyrocketed. You’re a marine, she chided herself, get a damn grip. She felt like the kid she had been before her first deployment with a marine detachment. A timid, little midwestern girl who didn’t drink or curse. The rough necks had had a fun time breaking her in.

They jokingly called her Kitten. As in a scared little kitten afraid of her own shadow. Then the worst had happened and they’d discovered that the kitten had claws. That’s when she became one of them, a marine. She felt the ghostly weight of two hands on her shoulders and sat a little straighter, meeting the Vice Admiral’s gaze head-on.

“I read your file, corpsman but your ribbon rack tells one hell of a story on its own.”

“Oorah, sir.”

“Two Purple Hearts, three bronze stars with combat valor, if you weren’t a corpsman you’d be well on your way to admiralty and a senate seat.” She must not have done a good job at disguising her disgust at being part of the brass, Warlock’s laughter filling the room.

“I asked for a shortlist of men for a special assignment and imagine my surprise when the first recommendation from a general was someone named Kitten.” Aw fuck.

Fiona’s smile couldn’t be helped. General Matteo Alverez. He had visited her detachment in Iraq for a dog and pony show and when things went south, as they always seemed to do when she was involved, he’d seen Fiona in action, running towards danger with a stethoscope around her neck.

“Am I going brown side out again, sir?” She could already feel the sand in her boots from another desert deployment. “Give the word.” She wanted him to give it to her straight. As much as she wanted to stay, she would always go if the Navy asked her to.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the scuttlebutt about a classified flight mission,” Warlock raised a white brow, knowing nothing classified stayed fully secret in a town like North Island. She nodded. “Enemy territory is a rough place to be,” Rough was putting it lightly in her experience and opinion. “I want you to prepare them, teach them how to survive. No manual, no guidelines, your experience will be their gospel.”’ That was…insane. She wasn’t an instructor. She would run towards live fire, snap a man’s neck, and put her phone on the bar when Penny wasn’t looking. She was used to doing dangerous and ill-advised things. But teach?

“Sir, I-”

“Before you respond, the General said to remind you that a true marine never runs from a fight.” Fiona sighed,

“Aye aye, sir. Just don’t give me a big chicken dinner when I kill your flyboys’ egos.” Warlock laughed, spilling coffee on his pristine uniform.

“If you can do that, I’ll give you another damn medal for doing the impossible.”

Big chicken dinner = Bad conduct discharge

Scuttlebutt = gossip

Can't wait for more? Let me know, I'll add you to the taglist.

Fiona and Jake's story is going to have mentions of combat, war, torture (nothing too graphic), too many Navy/Marine inaccuracies to count (I'm doing a lot of research though), plenty of good times at the Hard Deck, Warlock being an enabler, and Jake being the next in a long line of Top Gun students to be hot for teacher.

#jake seresin #jake seresin x oc #glen powell #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #fanfic #hangman x oc #jake hangman seresin #top gun hangman #the devil doc & the flyboy #bet writes

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adrift-in-thyme · 1 year ago

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@skyward-floored and I both noticed Warriors looking less than comfortable in Jojo's latest art and thought 'wait is he afraid of heights??' As someone who is VERY afraid of heights I naturally had to latch onto the idea...and write something about it. Sorry, Wars

CW for blood/injury, mentions of vomit, and descriptions of panic and fear of heights

----------------------------------

In no universe is this enjoyable.

Warriors stares down, transfixed by the sky and clouds beneath him, (beneath him — by the golden three they should be above him, ABOVE HIM like normal). His limbs are leaden, his thoughts scrambling, panicked. His mouth is dry as the Gerudo Desert.

He swallows, forces saliva down a too-tight throat. He and heights never truly have gotten along. But this is a new extreme.

He’s never been this high before. He’s never been atop an island in the sky. It’s something he was very much fine, never having done. In fact, he was much more fine before the Shadow had decided it would be wonderfully comical to dump them here.

To Sky, it had been the best thing since pumpkin soup. He was home, after all. Warriors can’t blame the guy.

Still…

He drags his foot away from where it had crept worrying close to the edge. How exactly had that happened?

Still, why on Hylia’s green earth does the hero have to live IN THE SKY?

Warriors glances over to where Sky is eagerly showing off his loftwing to Wild and Hyrule. A short ways away, Time converses with Gaepora. Not far from him, Legend and Wind seem to be engaging in a game of some sort.

Warriors squints. Are they…are they hurling those strange, little creatures off of Skyloft to see them fly back? Well, not anymore, because here comes Twilight to save the poor things. Not that they had seemed to mind much…

The rancher catches Warriors watching and shakes his head.

Can you believe these two? His gaze seems to ask.

Warriors dredges up a dry smirk.

Try dealing with that behavior 24/7, he mouths.

Twilight frowns. I do, is his silent response. Then, his brows dip further, expression losing its exasperated humor. He walks forward, a tiny creature cradled in his arms. Still very much paralyzed, Warriors watches helplessly as he advances.

“Rancher,” he says, cordially, once the hero is beside him – or more in front of him. (Why Twilight has chosen to stand with his toes off the edge of the island, Warriors has absolutely no idea. All he knows is that it makes his legs go numb. He forces himself to look forward instead.)

“Captain,” Twilight replies. He shifts and Warriors’ stomach somersaults. “Are you doin’ alright? You look a little pale.”

“Do I?” Warriors chuckles. It sounds too harsh, too loud. “Must not be spending enough time in the sun.”

Twilight gives him an unenthused look. Warriors grins. The expression feels as wrong as his laugh. Too wide, too brittle.

Why does everything just seem off right now?

“Don’t worry about me, rancher. I’m alright.”

Twilight studies him for a moment, eyes narrowed. He opens his mouth, no doubt gearing up to pry further. But Four’s voice rings out before he can, beckoning him to come inspect one thing or another. Warriors can’t truly make out the words. Maybe that’s because his ears are filled with the sound of rushing wind.

Is it the wind? Or is it coming from inside of him, stealing away his remaining balance and setting his stomach churning?

“Well, take care of yourself,” Twilight says. He sets a hand on Warriors’ shoulder, with a small smile. “And be careful. Can’t have you fallin’ off the edge there.”

Warriors looks down and immediately regrets it. He hardly registers Twilight walking away, doesn’t hear his brother’s lively voices as they enjoy the wonders of Sky’s home. All he can see is the drop off he is certain that he is mere inches from plunging off of. His line of vision narrows, darkening at the edges, and he stumbles back, arms wrapped protectively around his middle.

“Captain?” Time is suddenly holding him, keeping him from toppling. “Are you well?”

Warriors swallows hard. “Fine, Sprite.

“Just fine.”

It’s only the lack of a substantial breakfast that morning that prevents him from getting sick all over the old man’s shoes. ----------------

The next few days are torture. Warriors does his best to keep his distance from the edges of the island. But it is nearly impossible in a place so compact as Skyloft. And the sparse fences constructed around hardly seem enough to keep him from plunging off.

So, he spends most of his time indoors (praying to any goddess who may listen that there won’t be a sudden earthquake that sends the building careening down into nothingness).

His excuses are few and paltry.

“I don’t feel well.” “I’m tired after the journey.” “I need to think about an actual plan to track down the Shadow before he gets too far ahead.”

The heroes can see right through him – he is certain of it. And none more than Time.

“Tell me what I can do, captain,” he says one night when Warriors awakens screaming after a dream of plunging into a sky of flame. (And wow, does that commotion help him maintain his secrecy and uphold his reputation. He’s doing wonderfully.) “Please, I want to help.”

Warriors’ breath hitches as he slumps into his little brother’s arms. Here, with the two of them there is nothing to hide anyway. He couldn’t even if he tried.

“You can get me off this cursed island,” he says, with a dry chuckle. “That would be lovely.”

Time merely sighs and holds him closer.

They both know he can’t do that.

…just as he cannot keep away the monsters the Shadow sends after them the next day.

Venturing outside of the academy to fight off a hoard of monsters is not exactly something Warriors had wanted to do. He is a hero, however, and he refuses to leave his brothers to battle them alone. So, out he comes into the light of the day, with his heart in his throat and his chest feeling like Ganondorf is sitting on top of it.

“I’m sorry that you have to do this,” Time murmurs as they head toward the tell tale screeches (in the plaza, of course).

Warriors shrugs, somewhat stiffly. “Who knows? I could get lucky.” He sends Time a grin and plunges his sword into the first of the monsters. “Maybe the Shadow will open another portal.”

Time smirks. “Perhaps, he will.”

-----------------

The fight drags on all morning. Warriors fares well enough through it. He remains in the center of the plaza as often as he can and his brothers take care of the stragglers around the edges. He does his best not to look at them when they toe the edge, heedless of certain death less than inches away.

And he fights on with the same ferocity as he always does.

…until about midmorning. Because that’s when the moblin shows up.

It is one of Sky’s – hulking and corpulent and capable of taking at least ten bokoblins with one hefty swing of its spear. But he has fought this kind before. With a smirk, he rushes forward to engage it.

He hacks away at its shield easily, then readies himself to dodge as it roars in rage. It rears back, then bends its head, smoke puffing out of its nostrils.

Warriors raises an eyebrow. He hefts his sword more firmly into his hand.

“You gonna come and get me?”

It roars again and breaks into a run. He steels himself, tensed for the strike. One second, two, three…

“Warriors look out!”

Something hits him from behind – something big and bulky and heavy. It slams into his side, breaking bones on impact. He gasps, vision going spotty.

And suddenly he is flying. His feet leave the ground and he is tumbling, head over heels through the air. The world is a blur of color, up is down and left is right. He is almost certain that he’s going to be sick.

Then, it’s over. He hits the ground in a tangle of limbs and fabric. Blood fills his mouth and he chokes on it.

“Captain!”

Running feet sound in his ears. He blinks, dazedly, trying to bring everything back into focus. It feels like the moblin has taken to tap dancing on his skull.

“Ugh…”

“Captain!”

There is panic in that voice, he realizes sluggishly. There must be a reason for that, there has to be…

His vision clears just enough that he can make out a gigantic something looming above him. He tries to push himself up for a better look, but his upper half seems to be on a slightly different level than his bottom half. When he allows himself to lay down fully he sees only sky.

Ah…that would explain it.

Panic pierces him far deeper than any spear ever could. He digs his fingernails into the grooves in the pavement, gritting his teeth against the pain and oncoming unconsciousness.

Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out…

“Captain!”

He tries once more to pull himself up and fails.

Warriors lets out a grow of aggravation. He really wishes his brothers would exert more energy on fighting off this thing and getting him back on land than yelling his title repeatedly.

…though maybe he has heard it a few more times than they have really said it.

The monster raises its weapon just as Twilight comes out of nowhere, leaping forward to skewer it. The rancher’s sword strikes home seconds before the monster’s can, piercing it through. And the next thing Warriors knows, he’s staring up at the concerned face of his brother.

“Are you alright?”

Twilight leans forward, grabbing his hand and supporting his back as he drags him away from the edge. Warriors slumps against him with a relieved sigh.

“Just great,” he slurs and Twilight chuckles.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you a potion and you’ll be just – ”

Warriors isn’t entirely certain what happens. He is too dazed to comprehend the events that occur in quick succession.

One moment he is held in Twilight’s arms and the next, the rancher is wrenched away from him with a grunt of pain and shock. Then, something collides with Warriors’ chest…

And he’s falling.

His stomach turns to lead, the wind rushes past at breakneck speeds, his scarf tangles about his limbs. Panic courses through his veins, beating in time with his pounding head and thumping heart. It encases him like a vice, paralyzing him, chasing away all other feelings, all other sensations save for icy, thick, undefeatable terror.

Warriors shuts his eyes and grits his teeth. He can’t breathe. He’s going to be sick, he’s sure of it.

…Or maybe he’ll die before that happens. Maybe he’ll collide with the hard ground and in a quiet, contained explosion of agony be gone.

And after he had just gotten up the courage to propose to Arty too. Isn’t that just his luck.

“Hold on, Wars!”

An inhuman cry rings out, free and brave and strangely familiar. In the next moment Warriors’ lands with something blessedly solid. Arms wrap around him, warm and strong. A heart beats fast beneath the chest he collapses against.

“I’ve got you, captain,” Sky breathes. “I’ve got you.”

He drapes his sail cloth over Warriors’ trembling shoulders. Warriors clutches it so tightly his fingers ache.

“Get me somewhere low to the ground,” he whispers, in between haggard breaths. “Please.”

“Don’t worry.” Sky’s voice is kind. “I’m bringing you to the Surface.”

The Surface. That sounds promising. Warriors can only hope that it is as solidly on the ground as the name suggests.

He won’t see it if it is, though. He keeps his eyes stubbornly closed the entire trip.

---------------

The Surface, it turns out, is just plain, old Hyrule. Which, in Warriors’ book, is pure heaven.

“I still can’t believe no one thought to tell me about this place,” he gripes as he limps out of Sky and Sun’s cozy, little cottage, two days later. “Why would anyone want to stay up in the sky when we could be down here, on the ground?”

Twilight smirks. The rancher has been cooped up with him for the last few days as they healed from the injuries they got on Skyloft. And Warriors has to admit that he has appreciated his company.

“I still can’t believe you’re afraid of heights.” Twilight grins innocently at him. “The great Captain of the Hyrulean Army, scared of a little sky island.”

His tone is light and teasing and Warriors feels no pain from the jabs. But he scowls anyway.

“I’m scared of falling off a ‘little sky island.’ Which, coincidentally, I did and nearly died. Given that, I’d say the fear is warranted.”

Twilight hums. “So, what you’re saying is fear of heights is really a fear of falling.”

Warriors sighs. He looks out over the small town Sky and Sun are building, smiling slightly as he spots Time and Wind fishing in a nearby stream. It’s lovely, really, how he’ll be able to enjoy those activities with them now that he isn’t trapped in the grip of nauseating fear.

“I don’t know, rancher,” he says, shrugging. “Call it what you want. All I can say is that I want my feet firmly on the ground.”

#trin writes #linked universe #lu warriors #lu twilight #lu time #lu sky #angst #hurt/comfort #blood #injury #whump #fear of heights #linked universe fic

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maxiemumdamage · 5 months ago

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Although far from the most heinous of villains, there’s one Avatar: the Last Airbender character whom I still harbor a very generous amount of hatred for:

King Kuei, aka the ruler of Ba Sing Se, aka the Earth King who somehow managed not to know his kingdom had been under siege by a foreign power for over a century.

And I know most people, the narrative included, forgive him for his ignorance due to the fact it was Long Feng’s conspiracy that made it so. But for a man in King Kuei’s position, I think the ignorance is a cruelty and abuse of power, even if not at the same level as Long Feng, the Dai Li and their conspiracy.

Because in order for Kuei not to know about the war, he had to not knos about anything that was happening in his kingdom. To not know about the war, he also had to not know about the refugees pouring into his kingdom. He had to therefore be clueless about things like housing, food, water, citizenship/immigration, foreign policy, and trade. He had to not know anything about the general standard of living of his people, in addition to their safety — and we see that in action when Team Avatar takes him outside the palace!

And MAYBE Kuei was just tricked by faked documents, if you really wanna give him the benefit of the doubt — maybe he just read the summary reports saying all was well and believed them, or made whatever allocations his advisors suggested without looking at the data personally or confirming through a secondary source. But Long Feng made it sound more like the king just runs museums and cultural preservation programs and delegates all the rest. Which just circles back to him not looking closely enough at what’s happening to actually see it! That is not good leadership.

And if you wanna talk about what Kuei does after he learns the truth about his loyal advisor and tries to take charge himself…uh.

He immediately spills the invasion plan and all its details to Azula, which led to the eclipse invasion failing. (Yes, she was disguised as an allied warrior, but she was still a total stranger and a random teenager from an arguably foreign island. A good leader wouldn’t have told her everything he did, even with good reason to think her trustworthy. And sure, Azula might’ve learned of the invasion regardless, but Kuei definitely made the situation worse.)

Kuei does nothing to help with the modified solar eclipse invasion, either — he tells Team Avatar to do what they want and fucks off to travel the world with his pet for a few months. Maybe acceptable behavior from an influencer, but not from a king whose country has been invaded and colonized by a hostile, genocidal nation. Kuei completely abandoned his people during their worst hour, which he helped bring about! Instead of trying to make up for his failure, he shrugs it off and moves on, then comes back and retakes his throne once someone else has done all the work of getting rid of those pesky invaders.

Kuei doesn’t show up when the White Lotus retakes Ba Sing Se — he doesn’t even know it’s happening, which speaks to his apathy towards the well-being of his people. The invaders are finally being kicked out, the war is about to end, and King Kuei has no idea. If word hadn’t reached him after the war ended, would someone else have been installed as king? Frankly, I think it might’ve been for the best, had they not needed to make it seem like the Earth Kingdom was going back to normal.

Like, at the end of the day, Jeong-Jeong, Piandao, and Iroh — all three Fire Nation deserters, and one a former enemy general who once pillaged the city and a BROTHER OF THE CURRENT FIRE LORD — did more to help Ba Sing Se than its king. And you can’t even blame the White Lotus for not making an effort to find and include Kuei, because he would’ve just been dead weight for them. He wouldn’t actually know enough about the infrastructure to be an asset, and it’s not like his face is known by the people enough for him to grant morale to local earthbenders. For all its tragic Kuei had no clue his city was being reclaimed, he would’ve been unable to do anything if he knew. Because Iroh knew more about Kuei’s city than he did!

And then in the comics, once he’s back on the throne he immediately almost restarts the war. The HUNDRED YEAR WAR that ended like a MONTH ago. Because Zuko says “hey actually these Fire Nation colonies existed for almost a century, it’ll be hard to tear them apart without hurting a ton of people and splitting up families. let them stay while we sort things out.” Kuei then goes to war (he mobilized his army and everything) because Zuko the teenage Firelord does one (1) mean and slightly concerning thing that.

(I will freely admit: Zuko was also at fault, he did not handle that situation well by any means. And even if his conclusions were reasonable, he sure expressed them in a way that would made the nation they just stopped targeting the Earth Kingdom in war very tetchy. But Kuei doesn’t know enough about the war or Zuko or his own kingdom to actually know why this is bad! It’s not a trauma response nor fear for the well-being of his people, but a desire to prove his own worth that motivates Kuei to send armed forces to remove the Fire Nation colonies. He’s certainly not absolved for how fast he pulled the trigger and wanted to resume war, just to feel like he was doing something.)

Zuko’s bad choices were rooted in concern for his people and having visited the colonies himself and seen how difficult the situation was. Kuei just wanted to appease his ego by feeling strong and decisive even when it meant making an uninformed decision. “Well I was useless before so I gotta make sure I take swift actions now, even if that means being uninformed and using liberal violence. Soldiers move out!”

WHY DID HE HAVE TO GO BACK ON THE THRONE. CAN’T BUMI OR TOPH TAKE OVER RULING BA SING SE???

The fact most of Kuei’s sins are born of ignorance doesn’t absolve him, because a person in his position should never be ignorant to that extent. And Kuei knows it — that’s why he’s defensive, but also ashamed, when Team Avatar proves the existence of the war to him. Kuei has all the resources and tools to educate himself. He just…chooses not to.

The fact he makes one good decision when he trusts team Avatar over Long Feng ALSO falls short when you remember how long it took them to get there and how little that actually achieved. He goes right back to ignoring them after the war once they stop telling him what he wants to hear, anyway!

(Plus, if they’d NOT gone to him for help, the Invasion on the Day of Black Sun might have succeeded. The water tribe soldiers, mechanists, and earthbenders not from Ba Sing Se were the forces they actually ended up with — they didn’t need Kuei’s armies to get as far as the palace! — and they could’ve won if they’d had the element of surprise.)

Anyway. Kuei was useless and given his position, had no right to be. What happened to even noblesse oblige? All those privileges he earned from the labor of his people, and he couldn’t actually be bothered to know a damn thing about their lives. Much less protect them.

So yeah. King Kuei hate mail time.

For some reason extra incompetent people inserting themselves into political offices and then ignoring the well-being of their country makes me extra mad lately.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #king kuei #atla kuei #atla earth king #atla analysis #atla comics #max.txt

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womenclature · 12 days ago

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The Ultimate List of 100 Questions

Lighthearted and Fun Questions

If you could have any superpower, what would it be and why?

What’s your favorite TV show that you can binge-watch over and over?

If you could travel anywhere on Earth, where would you go and what would you do?

What’s your guilty pleasure song that always gets you dancing?

If you were stranded on a deserted island and could have only one item, what would it be?

What’s your favorite ice cream flavor, and do you prefer it in a cone or a cup?

Who’s your celebrity crush, and what would you say if you met them?

What’s the weirdest food you’ve ever tried, and would you eat it again?

If you could time travel, would you go to the past or the future, and why?

What’s your favorite way to spend free time on the weekends?

Getting to Know Each Other Better

What’s your favorite book, and how has it impacted you?

What was your dream job when you were a child, and is it still your dream?

What’s your biggest pet peeve, and why does it bother you so much?

Do you have a favorite family member, and what makes your relationship special?

What’s one piece of advice you would give to your younger self?

What’s your love language, and how do you prefer to receive affection from friends?

What are three things on your bucket list that you want to accomplish?

What’s your favorite season of the year, and what do you love about it?

What’s the best gift you’ve ever received, and who gave it to you?

If you could live in any fictional world, which one would you choose and why?

Deep and Thoughtful Questions

What does your perfect day look like from start to finish?

What’s a personal goal you’re currently working towards?

How do you handle stress and maintain your mental health?

What’s the most meaningful conversation you’ve ever had with someone?

What do you think is the most important quality in a friendship?

What’s your biggest fear, and how do you confront it?

If you could change one thing about the world, what would it be?

What’s a significant life lesson you’ve learned recently?

How do you define success, and do you feel successful?

What’s something you’re passionate about that you’d like to share with others?

Fun and Random Questions

If you were a character in a movie, who would you be and why?

What’s the strangest dream you’ve ever had?

If you could switch lives with one person for a day, who would it be?

What’s your favorite thing to do when you’re feeling down?

Do you have any hidden talents or skills most people don’t know about?

What’s the last time you laughed so hard you cried, and what was it about?

If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?

What’s the most adventurous thing you’ve ever done?

What’s your favorite childhood memory?

If you could meet any historical figure, who would it be and what would you ask them?

Questions About Life and Experiences

What’s the best piece of advice you’ve ever received, and who gave it to you?

How do you handle difficult situations or challenges in life?

What’s a skill you’d love to learn, and what’s holding you back?

What does happiness mean to you?

How do you stay motivated when pursuing your goals?

What’s a cause or issue you’re passionate about and why?

Have you ever had a life-changing experience? What happened?

What’s the most valuable lesson you’ve learned from a mistake?

How do you balance work, personal life, and hobbies?

What role does faith or spirituality play in your life?

Questions About Relationships and Emotions

What’s your love language, and how does it affect your relationships?

How do you express appreciation for your loved ones?

What’s one thing you wish people understood about you?

How do you deal with conflict in relationships?

What’s the most important quality you look for in a friend or partner?

How have your past relationships shaped who you are today?

What makes you feel most supported and cared for?

Do you believe in soulmates? Why or why not?

What’s your biggest relationship deal-breaker?

How do you maintain strong connections with family and friends?

Fun Hypothetical Questions

If you could have any animal as a pet, regardless of practicality, what would you choose?

What’s a superpower you wouldn’t want to have?

If you were a superhero, what would your name and costume look like?

Would you rather be able to speak every language or play every musical instrument?

If you won the lottery tomorrow, what’s the first thing you’d do?

What’s a fictional character you wish you could meet in real life?

If you could live in any era of history, which one would you choose and why?

What’s a food combination that sounds weird but you absolutely love?

If you could teleport anywhere right now, where would you go?

Would you rather explore the depths of the ocean or outer space?

Questions About Favorites and Preferences

What’s your favorite movie of all time, and what makes it so special?

Do you have a favorite podcast, and why do you enjoy it?

What’s your favorite place to relax and unwind?

What’s your favorite thing about your best friend?

Do you prefer reading books or watching movies, and why?

What’s your favorite kind of music or artist?

Do you have a favorite quote or saying that inspires you?

What’s your favorite holiday, and how do you like to celebrate it?

What’s your favorite season, and what do you enjoy doing during that time?

What’s your favorite way to stay active or exercise?

Questions About Personal Growth and Goals

What are your top three personal goals for the next five years?

How do you measure personal success?

What’s a habit you’d like to break or develop?

What motivates you to keep pushing forward during tough times?

How do you approach learning new things?

What’s a career or field you’d like to explore more deeply?

How do you stay focused on your long-term goals?

What does self-care look like for you?

How do you handle criticism or feedback?

What’s a challenge you’ve overcome that you’re proud of?

Thought-Provoking and Deeper Questions

What do you think is the meaning or purpose of life?

How do you define true happiness?

What’s a question you’ve always wanted to ask but never had the chance?

Do you believe everything happens for a reason, or do we create our own fate?

How do you cope with the uncertainties of life?

What impact do you want to have on the world or those around you?

How do you handle feelings of doubt or insecurity?

What’s one thing you think people misunderstand about you?

If you could give one piece of advice to everyone in the world, what would it be?

What legacy do you hope to leave behind?

Source Link

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marveling-cg · 4 months ago

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Read a fic today where future Luffy, casually, offhandedly, admits to present day Zoro that Luffy had always believed them to be together, but it was Zoro who took time to catch up.

And I'm obsessed.

Because Zoro has been in love since Shells Town, since some kid with too much confidence bartered for Zoro's loyalty and won it, since that same idiot left his back wide open to attack, trusting that a three-week starved Zoro had the strength in him to guard it.

Zoro definitely thought, as Luffy pressed himself unselfconsciously to Zoro's side in the dumb little dinghy they were calling their ship, that he'd found whatever it was that people wrote about in storybooks and romance novels. Only it wasn't dumb and and it wasn't mysterious. Or it was but only because Luffy was an idiot and his thoughts couldn't be deciphered (unless there was an attack imminent and their hearts had fallen into the same racing rhythm, then Luffy made perfect sense).

But no whatever this was with Luffy (forever - he was certain it was forever) made perfect sense: it was trust, and respect, and the kind of lofty dreams that Zoro had already committed his life to. And the bone deep rightness of Luffy making a home of Zoro's personal space.

But then the betrayal at Whiskey Peak, Luffy's fists turned, in earnest, against Zoro. His captain somehow believing the worst of him, and only Nami's voice able to cut through the bullshit.

It made Zoro rethink everything. Had he misunderstood their connection? Romanticized it somehow? Maybe he'd mistaken foolhardy desperation for trust, forced proximity for affection (humiliating).

When they dropped anchor at Little Garden, Zoro had been hurt but hopeful. He left Little Garden certain that Luffy wouldn't, maybe couldn't save him. Thank goodness they'd had the foresight to recruit Usopp. But Zoro needed to be able to save himself, and his crew, too.

By the time they'd reached the dunes of Alabasta, Zoro was well and truly done. At every turn Luffy seemed determined to convince the entire crew that they'd made a grand errors in judgement to follow him. None of it helped by the contrast of Ace: strong, supposedly stronger than Luffy (impossible), and kind, and competent in a way Luffy never quite managed. By the time Chopper had asked him why he was here it was all Zoro could do to temper his irritation, exasperated by the desert heat, to give him an answer fair to their choices and their captain.

Something happened, though, once Luffy took the lead again. Yes, things got stupider, but they also got moving -- and moving in the right direction. It was something to see, the way following Luffy's orders lead to immediate payoff. Saving Smoker gave them the head start they needed.

And then in a bright burst of sunlight and sand, there was Zoro's captain, the idiot who'd stood in front of a couple dozen bullets for a complete stranger. Here he was now, swapping places with their princess, taking on all the risk, and ordering the crew (Zoro) to go on without him. And the payoff was hard won but worthwhile:

The crew stronger, a nation freer, their promises kept.

In the quiet aftermath, he decided. Maybe this wasn't love, but it didn't mean it couldn't be devotion. He'd sworn himself to Luffy, first mate to captain. So he'd put aside his frustration and disappointment and follow him. Without malice or angst. He'd give his counsel where needed (and let's be real, even he knew Luffy would need it), but once Luffy made whatever wild decision he was going to make, Zoro was going to follow it.

So, sure, that meant that after letting himself get jumped by a bunch of assholes in Jaya and letting Luffy get the satisfaction of putting Bellamy in his place alone, he and Luffy were pretty much immediately separated in Skypeia.

Which was fine. In Luffy's absence, Zoro knew what his standing orders were, the same they'd been since Syrup Island and Usopp: protect the crew. Plus, the separation gave Zoro a chance to pit his own strength against this so-called god.

It settled something in him, to witness Luffy take down a man too bizarrely powerful for even Zoro to make a dent at. It meant something, too, that even as Luffy took on the seemingly impossible, he still expected (needed even) Zoro's assistance to see the job done.

In Water 7, it was Zoro in need. "Do we fight or do we forgive?" The fight with Usopp and immediate disappearance of Robin had shaken him, though he'd be loathe to admit it. But Luffy's clarity kept him steady. And leave it to Luffy to find a way for them to do it all: forgive and fight and free.

And if he preened a bit at Luffy turning to him, atop a train, and asking him to dial up his new attack, double it and then some, simply on Luffy's command; if he silently reveled everytime someone mentioned "he wasn't even the captain" (no, he was Luffy's -- first mate); who could blame him?

Nami absolutely gave him shit for blushing at their conversation on the train about following Luffy's orders (Sanji might be happy to ignore Luffy's commands, but Zoro never would). Zoro couldn't bring himself to really care, though. She'd been there on Jaya. Hell, she'd been there when it was just them and a couple of dinghies and absolutely no personal space. She knew just how deep his devotion ran.

It was why, in part, he couldn't let any disrespect from Usopp (or any crew member) stand. Luffy was permissive when it came to voicing dissenting opinions or demonstrating frustration. He lead as if was the whole crew's little brother. But he was the captain they'd all chosen. The captain who'd risked his life time and again to save them (from the trouble he drug them into). And this was a crew willing to risk everything for each other. They couldn't have doubt here.

Zoro was anything but a hypocrite, and so he knew he needed to be honest with himself, too. But they had more important matters to deal with now than Zoro's irrepressible heart. There was some mystery triangle to be navigated, and the New World to reach, and increasingly stronger enemies to be prepared for.

But when Luffy flashed those pearly whites at him and offered to share his food it sent the kind of hope curling low and hot in his gut that he hadn't felt since the East Blue (Did Luffy know? Did he realize how easy Zoro was for him? Was that something he was looking to take advantage of?)

It was a pleasant distraction from the creepy ass hellscape of Thriller Bark.

He should have known it couldn't last -- the simple pleasure of exploring a new space with Luffy and their crew or his attempts to somehow downplay what he felt for his captain.

No, in the light of a new dawn, every doubt, every obsfucation was burned away.

He'd survived losing Kuina, but only barely. He knew he wouldn't survive losing Luffy. And so he wouldn't.

He'd thought he'd been signing his own death warrant, but then Kuma had given him a gift. All Zoro had to do was survive.

And it seemed like that's all Zoro would spend the next two years and change doing -- surviving.

But somewhere in between fighting the Humandrills and Mihawk, Zoro admitted he couldn't fight himself, too.

He wanted Luffy. And wanted to spend his life at Luffy's side. That desire had made him feel weak and vulnerable all those months ago as they'd crossed into the Grand Line. But it had given him strength, too. It had helped him find new depths to pull from, and new reasons to keep going.

So he decided he wouldn't hide this part of himself, not from himself, not from Luffy, not from any one of his prying nakama.

Of course they barely had a quiet moment between Sabaody and Dressrosa. There were old friends and new allies, civil wars and overdue uprisings. And it's okay. As irritated as Zoro was by the chaos of it all, he'd been aware of the realities of traveling with Luffy.

But he can admit that he was grateful to the overwhelming weirdness of Bartolomeo's Luffyship that finally drove his captain into his arms.

Luffy burrowed into his chest and wormed his hands under Zoro's shirt to get to the warm skin beneath. Zoro ran a hand through his captain's hair and pressed him closer so he could warm his chilled skin.

"This reminds me of our first ship," Luffy laughed against his neck. Zoro chuckled, too.

He'd tied Rooster's landing vessel to the side of the ship and bunkered down inside for a bit of privacy.

"It was quieter." They could hear Usopp regaling Barto's pirates with stories of the crew.

Luffy laughed again and shifted, pressing a thigh between Zoro's legs. Zoro let a hand travel down to caress the soft skin beneath Luffy's shorts.

"Are you done being mad at me?"

"What."

"You haven't touched me like this in a long time."

Zoro felt his heart kick it up a notch.

"I didn't realize you wanted me to."

Luffy popped his chin up onto Zoro's chest.

"Hmm, yeah, I guess we didn't really talk about that stuff after."

Zoro was confused. But he was also aware that if he somehow spooked Luffy now, he might never get a direct answer from Luffy again.

"Should we have?"

"I don't know, probably. Ace said something about getting permission."

Zoro knew his grip on Luffy's thigh would be too tight for anyone but Luffy, but he couldn't unclench his fist.

"Luffy, are you and I in the kind of relationship where you expect the kind of touch you need permission for?"

"Aren't we? We said till death do us part."

"WHAT."

Which is how Zoro found out that Luffy interpreted their original promise to each other -- to achieve their dreams, for Luffy to take his life if he somehow impeded Zoro's dreams, for Zoro to see Luffy to Raftel and back or die trying -- as VOWS.

#ficlet #luffy x zoro #zoro x luffy #zolu #one piece #cg writes #my writing #idiots in love

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alwaysdaenerys · 3 months ago

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Jonerys Falling For You 2024 | Day 1: Cursed

Teaser and moodboard for my new fic, “burn under the same sky”

After a three-day storm blew their cargo ship off course, Captain Jon Snow and his crew were stranded on a deserted island somewhere in the Narrow Sea. With rapidly diminishing provisions, the desperate sailors could find no animals to hunt while they repaired their broken hull, just tropical plants and insects to forage for sustenance in the vast forest. On the third week of isolation, a starving Ghost returned from one of his nightly roamings, snow-white tail burnt blacker than coal. Donning battle armor, Jon went to investigate who or what could have possibly done this much damage to his beloved companion. At the center of the forest, he and a wary Grenn happened upon a hollowed-out rock formation, filled with the charred bones of a variety of woodland creatures. It was no wonder the men were unable to find fresh meat of any kind: there was a wild dragon here.

Venturing further into the fathomless darkness, Jon’s sturdy boatswain grabbed his arm. “I don’t like the look of this place, captain.”

“There,” the black-haired seafarer shone his lantern over a trail of sooty footprints on the ground. “Those are human, and a small one at that. We assumed ourselves alone on this island, Grenn, but it seems we are decidedly not.”

The skeleton pieces became increasingly numerous as they continued forward with hesitation, the most brittle of them crunching loudly with each step, some turning to ash under the weight of their boots. Even with all the fire damage scorching the walls and ceiling, the deep cavern was ice cold, though Jon wasn’t sure this fact inspired confidence.

“Hello?” he shouted, lifting his meager light.

A startled, high-pitched yelp answered him, and the young northerner sprinted towards the sound, concerned. His friend lagged, surely fearful of what lay ahead. But they would have been able to hear the dragon’s distinct breathing if it was truly inside.

“Please, we mean you no harm! My crew and I have been ship-wrecked a few miles east,” Jon explained, heart thrumming rhythmically, like a snare drum. “Do you require assistance?”

No further communication from the disembodied voice was uttered, but he was not deterred. A ringing silence followed, but soon after taking a sharp left turn, his lamp suddenly caught on a bright white-blonde mange of hair, matted and filthy from lack of bathing. Completely naked and shivering in a small crevasse located at the far side of the cave, a woman came into view.

“Gods…” Grenn swore before dropping his shortsword with a loud clatter.

Jon immediately shed his thick sable cloak and wrapped it around the stranger, meaning to carry her delicate body to warmth and safety. She was saturated with the heady scent of smoke: he didn’t think it came from a mere wood fire, just with the amount of burned carnage piled around them, and Jon was intimately acquainted with the smell of tobacco—his first mate always had a brandy pipe between his teeth—therefore that could be ruled out too. It was clearly a dragon’s lair, ample proof surrounding them from every side: so where was the creature?

“Are you real?” she inhaled raggedly, coiling as close to him as possible.

Captain Snow blushed to feel the heat of her breath on his bare neck. “I am fairly certain, yes.”

The girl raised her head slightly, trying to make him out in the shadows. With no warning, a pair of glowing amethyst eyes somehow locked in on his gaze and Jon almost dropped her in shock.

“I have dreamt of this moment a thousand times, brave son of the First Men: of my savior battling the unknown winds and currents of the Sunset Sea to break the crone’s spell.”

Confused by the vast majority of her statement, Jon glanced in the direction of a mute Grenn. “Wait, what do you mean, the Sunset Sea?”

“A red witch expelled me to the furthest edge of the world when I ignited the Fourteen Flames.”

She was obviously delirious, speaking of events that had occurred countless millennia ago. And they were marooned nowhere near the Sunset Sea, because the Lady Lyarra had been journeying from White Harbor to the Bleeding Tower of Tyrosh to transport a load of textiles and blackbelly rum. But the peculiar lady was lucid enough to have guessed his Westerosi lineage, even specifying that he was of the North. Perhaps she was as lost as Jon and his fellow sailors, left here to die by someone who viewed her as a threat. Left here to be devoured by a dragon most likely.

“Does my illustrious deliverer have a name?” she asked softly upon exiting the cave in his arms, mouth right next to Jon’s ear.

In the waning afternoon sun, Snow finally got a proper look at the girl, and the air was promptly seized from his throat, as if he had been pushed from the bow of a ship and into the tumultuous sea. She was quite possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen before: no more than eight and ten, the porcelain skin of her arms and legs was pristine, unblemished from the elements; her eyelashes, lush and pale, framed the roundest of pupils and piercing purple irises, so supernaturally expressive and boundless, more hypnotizing than the rest of her; a subtle swathe of tan freckles graced the attractive slope of her nose and noble cheekbones; and finally, her heart-shaped features were perfected by a plump set of baby pink lips that were practically begging to be sampled. Shaking his head from its daze, Jon coughed uneasily: he had encountered many a Lysene lady in his two years as part of Her Majesty’s navy, but they were disgusting trolls compared to her. Based on her story though, the implication was that she was native to Valyria, which was impossible: only the Targaryens remained of that lost city. If the situation wasn’t so out of the ordinary, the girl could be considered a cannibalistic siren of maritime legend.

“You may call me Jon,” he replied, voice husky with awe. “Jon Snow of Winterfell.”

“Jon Snow,” a glistening smile graced her already gorgeous face as she traced the pad of her index finger along his jaw, slow and deliberate. “I was baptized as Daenerys, for the Valyrian moon goddess. But to you, I am ‘Dany’.”

Dany pressed her lips, plusher than the finest velvet, to the corner of Jon’s mouth and then buried her pert nose into the nape of his neck with a relieved sigh. Seemingly unable to resist the temptation, he tightened his hold on the girl protectively as he stumbled back towards camp, Grenn in his wake.

@iceandfirejonerysdiscord

#jonerys #jonerys moodboard #jonerysfallingforyou2024 #iceandfirejonerysdiscord

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jonsnowunemploymentera · 11 months ago

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Question for Jon stans: so I think a lot of us expect Jon to leave the watch at some point in his story, whether in Winds or sometime in Dream. I tend to think he’s going to straight up desert the Watch, like going ‘fuck it I’m done here’ much like Bloodraven and Mance, instead of leaving on a technicality (i.e., a ‘he’s dead so he’s technically done his service’ type of thing).

BUT the question is, does he go north or does he go south? I think it’s reasonable to assume either direction works narratively.

We have this:

Lannister studied his face. “Yes,” he said. “I can see it. You have more of the north in you than your brothers.”

Plus he’s been set up to parallel Bloodraven and Mance both of whom go north, and there’s this quote from AGOT that could be foreshadowing:

Far off to the north, a wolf began to howl. Another voice picked up the call, then another. Ghost cocked his head and listened. “If he doesn’t come back,” Jon Snow promised, “Ghost and I will go find him.” He put his hand on the direwolf’s head.

“I believe you,” Tyrion said, but what he thought was, And who will go find you? He shivered.

(Tyrion III)

There’s also symbolism in him embracing the name “Snow” and living in the snowy north….

But then we these quotes from AGOT as well that’s essentially about him finding the Wall to be stifling and equating freedom with the south:

“Yes. Cold and hard and mean, that’s the Wall, and the men who walk it. Not like the stories your wet nurse told you. Well, piss on the stories and piss on your wet nurse. This is the way it is, and you’re here for life, same as the rest of us.”

“Life,” Jon repeated bitterly. The armorer could talk about life. He’d had one. He’d only taken the black after he’d lost an arm at the siege of Storm’s End. Before that he’d smithed for Stannis Baratheon, the king’s brother. He’d seen the Seven Kingdoms from one end to the other; he’d feasted and wenched and fought in a hundred battles. They said it was Donal Noye who’d forged King Robert’s warhammer, the one that crushed the life from Rhaegar Targaryen on the Trident. He’d done all the things that Jon would never do, and then when he was old, well past thirty, he’d taken a glancing blow from an axe and the wound had festered until the whole arm had to come off. Only then, crippled, had Donal Noye come to the Wall, when his life was all but over.

(Jon III)

He had no destination in mind. He wanted only to ride. He followed the creek for a time, listening to the icy trickle of water over rock, then cut across the fields to the kingsroad. It stretched out before him, narrow and stony and pocked with weeds, a road of no particular promise, yet the sight of it filled Jon Snow with a vast longing. Winterfell was down that road, and beyond it Riverrun and King’s Landing and the Eyrie and so many other places; Casterly Rock, the Isles of Faces, the red mountains of Dorne, the hundred islands of Braavos in the sea, the smoking ruins of old Valyria. All the places that Jon would never see. The world was down that road … and he was here.

(Jon V)

And if Jon is to live his best wildling/crow-deserter life, it’ll be about finding freedom - just like Mance.

Plus there’s the whole thing with him seeing three different trees which could serve as representing his arc in the series, and the final tree faces south…

Just north of Mole’s Town they came upon the third watcher, carved into the huge oak that marked the village perimeter, its deep eyes fixed upon the kingsroad. That is not a friendly face, Jon Snow reflected. The faces that the First Men and the children of the forest had carved into the weirwoods in eons past had stern or savage visages more oft than not, but the great oak looked especially angry, as if it were about to tear its roots from the earth and come roaring after them. Its wounds are as fresh as the wounds of the men who carved it.

(Jon V, ADWD)

So which one is it?

Also if you think he goes south, where does he end up? 👀

#I’ve always been a jon deserts and goes north truther - but that’s also because I’m a jon will be king of winter truther #not in a ruling sense but more of a mythical combination of wildling king (mance) and god (bloodraven)#but I just saw a really interesting meta about how going south is more thematically resonant soooo 👀#yes this is assuming jon lives at the end which I think he absolutely does #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #jon snow

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blackswaneuroparedux · 2 years ago

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Anonymous ask: What do you think of the new Indiana Jones movie? And of Phoebe Waller-Bridge?

In a nutshell: From start to finish ‘Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny’ is watching Indiana Jones being a broken-down shell of a once great legacy character who has to be saved by the perfect younger and snarky but stereotypical ’Strong Independent Woman’ that passes for women characters in popcorn movies today.

I went in to this film with conflicted feelings. On the one hand I was genuinely excited to see this new Indiana Jones movie because it’s Indiana Jones. Period. Yet, on the other hand I feared how badly Lucasfilm, under Kathleen Kennedy’s insipid woke inspired CEO studio direction, was going to further tarnish not just a screen legend but the legacy of both George Lucas and Steven Spielberg. The cultural damage she has done to such a beloved franchise as the Star Wars universe in the name of progressive woke ideology is criminal. The troubled production history behind this film and its massive $300 million budget (by some estimates) meant Disney had a lot riding on it, especially with the future of Kathleen Kennedy on the line too as she was hands on with this film.

To me the Indiana Jones movies (well, the first three anyway, the less we say about ‘Kingdom of the Crystal Skull’ the better) were an important part of my childhood. I fell in love with the character instantly. Watching ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ (first on DVD in my boarding school dorm with other giggly girls and later on the big screen at a local arts cinema retrospective on Harrison Ford’s stellar career) just blew me away.

As a girl I wanted to be an archaeologist and have high falutin’ adventures; I even volunteered in digs in Pakistan and India (the Indus civilisation) as well as museum work in China as a teen growing up in those countries and discovering the methodical and patient but back breaking reality of what archaeology really was. But that didn’t dampen my spirit. Just once I wanted to echo Dr. Jones, ‘This belongs in a museum!’ But I happily settled for studying Classics instead and enjoyed studying classical archaeology on the side.

I couldn’t quite make sense why Indiana Jones resonated with me more than any other action hero on the screen until much later in life. Looking like Harrison Ford certainly helps. But it’s more than that. I’ve written this elsewhere but it’s worth repeating here.

‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ is considered an inspiration for so many action films yet there’s a very odd aspect to the film that’s rather unique and rarely noticed by its critics and fans. It’s an element that, once spotted, is difficult to forget, and is perhaps inspiring for times like the one in which we currently live, when there are so many challenges to get through. Typically in action films, the hero faces an array of obstacles and setbacks, but largely solves one problem after another, completes one quest after another, defeats one villain after another, and enjoys one victory after another.

The structure of ‘Raiders’ is different. A quick reminder:

- In the opening sequence, Indiana Jones obtains the temple idol only to lose it to his rival René Belloq (Paul Freeman). - In the streets of Cairo, Indy fails to protect his love, Marion Ravenwood (Karen Allen), from being captured (killed, he assumes). - In the desert, he finds the long-lost Ark of the Covenant, only to have it taken away by Belloq. - Indy then recovers the ark only to have it stolen a second time by Belloq, this time at sea. - On an island, Indy tries to bluff Belloq into thinking he’ll blow up the ark. His bluff fails. Indy is captured. - The climax of the film literally has its hero tied to a post the entire time. He’s completely ineffectual and helpless at a point in the movie where every other action hero is having their greatest moment of struggle and, typically, triumph.

If Indiana Jones had done absolutely nothing, if the famed archeologist had simply stayed home, the Nazis would have met the same fate - losing their lives to ark’s wrath because they opened it. It’s pretty rare in action films for the evil arch-villains to have the same outcome as if the hero had done nothing at all.

Indy does succeed in getting the ark back to America, of course, which is crucial. But then Indy loses the ark, once again, when government agents send it to a warehouse and refuse to let him study the object he chased the whole film. In other words: Indiana Jones spends ‘Raiders’ failing, getting beat up, and losing every artefact that he risks his life to acquire. And yet, Indiana Jones is considered a great hero.

The reason Indiana Jones is a hero isn’t because he wins. It’s because he never stops trying. I think this is the core of Indiana Jones’ character.

Critics will go on about something called agency as in being active or pro-active. But agency can be reactive and still be kinetic to propel the story along. It’s something that has progressively got lost as the series went on. With the latest Indiana Jones film I felt that Indiana Jones character had no agency and ends up being a relatively passive character. Sadly Indiana Jones ends up being a grouchy, broken, and beat up passenger in his own movie.

Released in 1981, ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ remains one of the most influential blockbusters of all time. Exciting action, exotic adventure, just the right amount of romance, good-natured humour, cutting-edge special effects: it was all there, perfectly balanced. Since then, attempts have been made to reproduce this winning recipe in different narrative contexts, sometimes successfully (’Temple of Doom’ and ‘the Last Crusade’), usually in vain (’Crystal Skull’).

What are the key ingredients of an Indiana Jones movie? There are only four core elements - leaving aside aspects of story such as the villain or the goal - that you need in place before anything else. They are: the wry, world-weary but sexy masculine performance of Harrison Ford; the story telling genius of George Lucas steeped in the lore of Saturday morning action hero television shows of the 1950s; the deft visual story telling and old school action direction of Steven Spielberg; and the sublime and sweeping music of the great John Williams. This what made the first three films really work.

In the latest Indiana Jones film, you only have one. Neither Lucas and Spielberg are there and arguably neither is Harrison Ford. John Williams’ music score remains imperious as ever. His music does a lot of heavy lifting in the film and let’s face it, his sublime music can polish any turd.

This isn’t to say the ‘Dial of Destiny’ is a turd. I won’t go that far, and to be honest some of the critical reaction has been over-hysterical. Instead I found it enjoyable but also immensely frustrating more than anything else. It had potential to be a great swan song film for Indy because it had an exciting collection of talent behind it.

In the absence of Spielberg, one couldn’t do worse than to pick James Mangold as next best to direct this film. Mangold is a great director. I am a fan of his body of work. After ‘Copland’, ‘Walk the Line’, ‘Logan’ and ‘Le Mans 66’ (or ‘Ford vs Ferrari’), James Mangold has been putting together a fine career shaped by his ability to deliver stories that rediscover a certain old-fashioned charm without abusing the historical figures - real or fictional - he tackles. And after Johnny Cash, Wolverine and Ken Miles, among others, I had high hopes he would keep the flame alive when it came to Indiana Jones. Mangold grew up as a fanboy of Spielberg’s work and you can clearly see that in his approach to directing film.

But in this film his direction lacks vitality. Mangold, while regularly really good, drags his feet a little here because he’s caught between putting his own stamp on the film and yet also lovingly pay homage to his hero, Spielberg. It’s as if he didn't dare give himself away completely, the director seems too modest to really take the saga by the scruff of the neck, and inevitably ends up suffering from the inevitable comparison with Steven Spielberg.

Mangold tries to recreate the nostalgic wonder of the originals, but doesn't quite succeed, while succumbing to an overkill of visual effects that make several passages seem artificial. The action set pieces range from pedestrian to barely satisfying. The prologue sequence was vaguely reminiscent of past films but it was still a little too reliant on CGI. The much talked about de-ageing of Harrison Ford on screen was impressive (and one suspects a lot of the film budget was sunk right there). But Indiana’s lifeless digitally de-aged avatar fighting on a computer-generated train, made the whole sequence feel like the Nazi Polar Express. Because it didn’t look real, there was no sense of danger and therefore no emotional investment from the audience. You know Tom Cruise would have done it for real and it would have looked properly cinematic and spectacular.

The tuk tuk chase through the narrow streets of Tangiers was again an exciting echo of past films, especially ‘Raiders’, but goes on a tad too long, but the exploration of the ship wreck (and a criminally underused cameo by Antonio Banderas) was disappointing and way too short.

The main problem here is the lack of creativity in the conception of truly epic scenes, because these are not dependent on Ford's age. Indeed, the film could very well have offered exhilarating action sequences worthy of the archaeologist with the whip, without relying solely on the physicality of its leading man. You don't need a Tom Cruise to orchestrate great moments but you could do worse than to follow his example.

Mangold uses various means of locomotion to move the character - train, tuk tuk, motorbike, horse - and offers a few images that wouldn't necessarily be seen elsewhere (notably the shot of Jones riding a horse in the middle of the underground), but in the end shows himself to be rather uninspired, when the first three films in the saga conceived some of the most inventive sequences in the genre and left their mark on cinema history. There are no really long shots, no iconic compositions, no complex shots that last and enrich a sequence, which makes the film look too smooth and prevents it from giving heft to an adventure that absolutely needs it.

And so now to the divisive figure of Phoebe Waller-Bridge.

It’s important here to separate the person from the character. I like Phoebe Waller-Bridge and I loved her in her ‘Fleabag’ series. She excels in a very British setting. I think she is funny, irreverent, and a whip smart talented writer and performer. I also think she has a particular frigid English beauty and poise about her. When I say poise I don’t mean the elegant poise of a Parisienne or a Milanese woman, but someone who is cute and comfortable in her own skin. You would think she would be more suited to ‘Downton Abbey’ setting than all out Hollywood action film. But I think she almost pulls it off here.

In truth over the years Phoebe Waller-Bridge, known for her comedy, has been collecting franchises where she is able to inflict her saucy humour into a hyper-masculine space. I don’t think her talent was properly showcased here.

Hollywood has this talent for plucking talented writers and actors who are exceptional in what they do and then hire them do something entirely different by either miscasting them or making them write in a different genre. I think Phoebe Waller-Bridge is exceptional and she might just rise if she is served by a better script.

In the end I think she does a decent stab at playing an intriguing character in Helena Shaw, Indy’s long lost and estranged god daughter and a sort of amoral rare artefacts hustler. Phoebe Waller-Bridge brings enthusiasm, charm and mischief to the role, making her a breath of fresh air. She seems to be the only member of the on-screen cast that looks to be enjoying themselves.

To be fair her I thought Waller-Bridge was a more memorable and interesting female character than either Kate Capshaw (’Temple of Doom’, 1984) and Alison Doody (’Last Crusade’, 1989). She certainly is a marked improvement on the modern woke inspired insipid female action leads such as Brie Larson (’Captain Marvel’), or any women in the Marvel universe for that matter, or Katherine Waterson (’Alien Covenant’). Waller-Bridge could have been reminiscent of Kathleen Turner (’Romancing the Stone’) and more recently Eva Green, actresses who command attention on screen and are as captivating, if not more so, than the male protagonists they play opposite.

To be sure there have been strong female leads before the woke infested itself into Hollywood story telling but they never made it central to their identity. Sigourney Weaver in ‘Alien’ and Linda Hamilton in the ‘Terminator’ franchise somehow conveyed strength of character with grit and perseverance through their suffering, while also being vulnerable and confident to pull through and succeed. Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s character isn’t quite that. She doesn’t get into fist fights or overpowers big hulking men but she uses cheek and charm to wriggle out of tight spots. She’s gently bad ass rather the dull ‘strong independent woman’ cardboard caricatures that Marvel is determined to ram down every girl’s throat. If Waller-Bridge’s character was better written she might well have been able to revive memories of the great ladies of Hollywood's golden age who had the fantasy and the confidence that men quaked at their feet.

What lets her character down is the snark. She doesn’t pepper her snark but she drowns in it. All of it directed at poor Indy and mocking him for his creaking bones and his entire legacy. It’s a real eyesore and it is a real let down as it drags the story down and clogs up the wheels that power the kinetic energy that an adventure with Indiana Jones needs. ‘The grumpy old man and the young woman with the wicked repartee set off across the vast world’ schtick is all well and good, but it does grate and by the end it makes you angry that Indy has put up with this crap. I can understand why many are turned off by Waller-Bridge’s character. As a female friend of mine put it, we get the talented Phoebe Waller Bridge’s bitter and unlikable Helena acting like a bitter and unlikable man. But it could be worse, it could be as dumb as Shia LaBeouf‘s bad Fonzie impersonation in 'Crystal Skull’.

I would say there is a difference between snark and sass. Waller-Bridge’s character is all snark. If the original whispers are true the original script had her way more snarkier towards Indy until Ford threatened to leave the project unless there were re-writes, then it shows how far removed the producers and writers were from treating Indy Jones with the proper respect a beloved legacy character deserves. It’s also lazy story telling.

Karen Black gave us real sass with Marion Ravenwood in ‘Raiders’. Her character was sassy, strong, but also vulnerable and romantic. She plays it pitch perfect. Of all the women in Indy’s life she was good foil for Indy.

Spielberg is so underrated for his mise-en-scène. We first meet Marion running a ramshackle but rowdy tavern in Tibet (she’s a survivor). She plays and wins a drinking game (she’s a tough one), she sees Indy again and punches him (she’s angry and hurt for her abandoning her and thus revealing her vulnerability). She has the medallion and becomes a partner (she’s all business). She evades and fights off the Nazis and their goons, she even uses a frying pan (she’s resourceful but not stupid). She tries on dresses (she’s re-discovers her femininity). Indy saves her but she picks him up at the end of the film by going for a drink (she’s healing and there’s a chance of a new start for both of them). This is a character arc worth investing in because it speaks to truth and to our reality.

The problem with Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s character is that she is constantly full on with the snark. Indy and Helena gripe and moan at each other the entire film. Indy hasn’t seen her in years, and she felt abandoned after her father passed, so there’s a lot of bitterness. It’s not unwarranted, but it also isn’t entertaining. It’s never entertaining if the snark makes the character too temperamental and unsympathetic for the audience to be emotionally invested in her.

I think overall the film is let down by the script. Again this is a shame. The writing talent was there. Jez and John-Henry Butterworth worked with James Mangold on ‘Ford v. Ferrari’ and co-wrote ‘Edge of Tomorrow‘ while David Koepp co-wrote the first ‘Mission: Impossible’ (but he also penned Indiana Jones and the ‘Kingdom of the Crystal Skull’, and the 2017 version of ‘The Mummy’ that simultaneously started and destroyed Universal’s plans for their Dark Universe). I love the work of Jez Butterworth who is one of England’s finest modern playwrights and he seemed to have transitioned fine over to Hollywood. But as anyone knows a Hollywood script has always too many cooks in the kitchen. There are so many fingerprints of other people - studio execs and directors and even stars - that a modern Hollywood script somehow resembles a sort of Ship of Theseus. It’s the writer’s name on the script but it doesn’t always mean they wrote or re-wrote every word.

Inevitably things fall between the cracks and you end up filming from the hip and hoping you can stitch together a coherent narrative in post-production editing. Clearly this film suffered from studio interference and many re-writes. And it shows because there is no narrative fluidity at work in the film.

Mads Mikkelsen’s Nazi scientist is a case in point. I love Mikkelsen especially in his arthouse films but I understand why he takes the bucks for the Hollywood films too. But in this film he is phoning in his performance. Mads Mikkelsen does what he can with limited screen time to make an impact but this character feels so recycled from other blockbusters. Here the CIA and US Government are evil and willing to let innocent Americans be murdered in order to let their pet Nazi rocket scientist pursue what they believe to be a hobby. But to be fair the villains in the Indy movies have never truly been memorable with perhaps Belloq, the French archaeologist and nemesis of Indy in ‘Raiders’, the only real exception. It’s just been generic bad guys - The Nazis! The Thugee death cult! The Nazis (again)! The Commies! Now we’re back to Nazis again which is not only safer ground for the Indy franchise but something we can all get behind.

However Mads Mikkelsen’s Dr. Voller, is the blandest and most generic Nazi villain in movie history. At the end of World War II, Voller was recruited by the US Government to aid them in rocket technology. Now that he’s completed his task and man has walked on the moon, he’s turning his genius to his ultimate purpose, the recovery of the ‘Dial of Destiny’ built by Archimedes. Should he find both pieces of the ancient treasure, he plans to return to 1930s Nazi Germany, usurp Hitler, and use his advanced knowledge of rocket propulsion to win the war. In a sense then he was channeling his inner Heidegger who felt Hitler had let down Nazism and worse betrayed Heidegger himself.

So there is a character juxtaposition between Voller and Indy in the sense both men feel more comfortable in the past than the present. But neither is given face time together to explore this intriguing premise that could have anchored the whole narrative of the film. It’s a missed opportunity and instead becomes a failure of character and story telling.

Then there are the one liners which seemed shoe horned in to make the studio execs or the writers feel smug about themselves. There are several woke one lines peppered throughout the film but are either tone deaf or just stupid.

“You trigger happy cracker”- it’s uttered without any self-awareness by a black CIA agent who is chaperoning the Nazi villain. Just because white people think it’s dumb and aren’t bothered by it doesn’t make it any less a racial slur. If you want authenticity then why not use the ’N’ word then as it would historically appropriate in 1969? The hypocrisy is what’s offensive.

“You stole it. He stole it. I stole it. It’s called capitalism.” - capitalism 101 for economic illiterate social justice warriors.

“[I’m] daring, beautiful, and self-sufficient” - uttered by Helena Shaw as a snarky reminder that she’s a strong independent woman, just in case you forgot.

“It’s not what you believe but how hard you believe.” - Indiana Jones has literally stood before the awesome power of God when the Ark of the Covenant was opened up by the Nazis, and they paid the price for it by having their faces melted off. Indy has drunk from the authentic cup of Christ, given to him by a knight who’s lived for centuries, that gave him eternal life and heal his father from a fatal bullet wound. So he’s figuratively seen the face of God (sure, he closed his eyes) and His holy wrath, and has witnessed the divine healing power of Christ first hand. And yet his spews out this drivel. It’s empty of any meaning and is a silly nod to our current fad that it’s all about the truth of our feelings, not observable facts or truth.

For me though the absolute worse was what they did to Indiana Jones as a character. Once the pinnacle of masculinity, a brave and daring man’s man whose zest for life was only matched by his brilliance, Henry Jones Jr. is now a broken, sad, and lonely old man. Indiana Jones is mired in the past. Not in the archaeological past, but in his own personal past. He's asleep at the wheel, losing interest in his own life. He's lost his son, he's losing his wife. He's been trying to pass on his passion, his understanding to disinterested people. They're not so interested in looking at the past. He remains a man turned towards the past, and then he finds himself confronted by Helena, who embodies the future. This nostalgia, this historical anchoring, becomes the main thread of the story.The film tries to deconstructs Indiana Jones on the cusp of retirement from academia and confronts him with a world he no longer understands. That’s an interesting premise and could have made for a great film.

It’s clear that the filmmakers’ intention was for a lost and broken Indiana to recapture his spirit by the film’s end. However, its horrible pacing and meandering and underdeveloped plot, along with Harrison Ford’s miserably sad demeanour in nearly every scene, make for a deeply depressing movie with an empty and unearned resolution.

By this I mean at the very end of the film. It’s meant to be daring and it is. There’s something giddy about appearing during the middle of siege of Syracuse by blood thirsty Romans and then coming face to face with Archimedes himself. The film seems to want to justify the legendary, exceptional aura and character of Indy himself by including him in History. Hitherto wounded deep down inside, and now also physically wounded, Indy the archaeologist tells Helena that he wants to stay here and be part of history.

It's a lovely and even moving moment, and you wonder if the film isn't going to pull a ‘Dying Can Wait’ by having its hero die in order to strengthen its legend. But in a moment that is too brutal from a rhythmic point of view, Helena refuses, knocks out her godfather and takes him back to the waiting plane and back to 1969. The next thing Indy sees he’s woken up back in his shabby apartment in New York.

I felt cheated. I’m sure Indy did too.

After all it was his choice. But Helena robbed him of the freedom to make his own decisions. She’s the one to decide what’s best. In effect she robbed him of agency. Even if it was the wrong decision to stay back in time, it’s so important from a narrative and character arc perspective that Indy should have had his own epiphany and make the choice to come back by himself because there is something worth living for in the future present - and that was reconciling with Marion his estranged wife. But damn it, he had to come to that decision for himself, and not have someone else force it upon him. That’s why the ending feelings so unearned and why the story falls flat as a soufflé when you piss on it.

‘Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny’ feels like the type of sequel that aimed to capture the magic of its predecessors, had worthwhile intentions, and a talented cast, but it just never properly materialised. In a movie whose pedigree, both in front and behind the camera, is virtually unassailable, it’s inexcusable that this team of filmmakers couldn’t achieve greater heights.

The film was a missed opportunity to give a proper send off to a cinematic legend. Harrison Ford proving that whatever gruff genre appeal he possessed in his heyday has aged better than Indy’s knees. He may be 80, but Ford carries the weight of the film, which, for all its gargantuan expense, feels a bit like those throwaway serials that first inspired Lucas - fun while it lasts, but wholly forgettable on exit.

I wouldn’t rate ‘Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny’ as the worst film in the franchise - that dubious honour still lies with ‘Kingdom of the Crystal Skull’. Indeed the best I can say is that I would rate this film at the benchmark of “not quite as bad as Crystal Skull”.But it’s definitely time to retire and hang up the fedora and the bull whip.

For what’s worth I always thought the ending of ‘Last Crusade’ where Indy, his father Henry Jones Snr., and his two most faithful companions, Sallah and Marcus Brody, ride off into the sunset was the most fitting way to say goodbye to a beloved character.

Instead we have in ‘Dial of Destiny’ the very last scene which is meant to be this perfect ending: Indiana Jones in his scruffy pyjamas and his shabby apartment. Sure, the exchange between a reconciling Indy and Marion is sincere and touching. But that only works because it explicitly recalls ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’. That's what Nietzsche would call “an eternal return”.

I shall eternally return to watch the first three movies to delight in the adventures of the swashbuckling archaeologist with the fedora and a bull whip. The last two dire films will be thrown into the black abyss. Something even Nietzsche would have approved of.

Thanks for your question.

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autistic-writer-angel · 4 months ago

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OCtober Day 20

Prompt: Cold

Words: 461

Canon to my other stories: Yes

Additional notes: Yet another one of Angel's experiences on the island.

Credit to @apromptingwewillgo for the prompts.

Cold

It was summer. In the South Pacific.

So, why did Angel feel so cold?

Well, maybe it was because when the tide came in, icy cold waves kept crashing over her. And every few hours, a storm would blow in, drenching her further.

The storms were a blessing and a curse. While they made her feel freezing and frightened her (especially since lightning had killed her father just two days ago), they also provided her with water to drink. She may have been starving and thirsty, but she had just enough water to keep going.

As the sky grew dark on Angel's third night on the island (day and night made no difference to her; all throughout both, she could only manage a few restless hours of sleep), clouds rolled in. Yep. Another storm was on the way.

When it started spitting, the ten-year-old wrapped her jacket around her tightly. She wished she could go and find shelter, but with her leg broken, she wasn't going anywhere.

Besides, she'd searched the island before she broke her leg. The island provided no shelter anywhere. All of the trees were too scattered to help her out.

She shivered.

"This isn't like me", she commented out loud. The cold had never bothered her. Her teachers in England used to scold her for playing outside without a coat. Just three months ago, on holiday with her family in Canberra, she'd refused to come out of the pool, even when her lips had turned blue. This really wasn't like her.

Then again, it wasn't like her to be out in the middle of a storm on a deserted island in the South Pacific.

A small light flashed above her head, gliding through the stormy clouds. It was an aeroplane!

"HELP! HELP!" Angel hollered, waving, just as she had done every time she saw a boat or a plane or helicopter in the distance. "Over here!"

Alas, once again, it was no use. The plane was way too high up to see or hear her. It disappeared into the stormy clouds in the distance.

Finally, it began to rain for real. Angel wrapped her jacket around her to keep warm, but it was too light to do her any good. She sang to herself to take her mind off the cold and the silence and loneliness. She wasn't much of a singer, but she'd been doing that a lot since she came to the island, mostly songs she'd learned at school. "Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport" was one of her favourites. "Love Story" by Taylor Swift was another frequent one, as she knew all the words.

Her final words before she drifted off to sleep, shivering, were always the same:

"Someone- anyone- please rescue me!"

#octonauts fandom #octonauts #octonauts oc #OCtober #OCtober 2024

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pooks · 1 month ago

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i have been in a small hiatus about the straw hat Ichiji AU, but i'm back in the game now

this time, we'll focus on Ichiji during the two year seperation. he's obviously seperated from Sanji, which is a big thing since they've never been apart for once in their lives (temporary seperations on island adventures doesn't count). and here's the big question...

where did Kuma send Ichiji?

Ichiji finds himself on Salossa, a desert island in the Grand Line and located near Calm Belt. the climate is similar to Alabasta, except this has more of a western influence with canyons, cacti and occasional oasis here and there.

he ends up wandering for a long time until he finally collapses from exhaustion and thirst. later, Ichiji wakes up in someone else's residence and meets a pirate he (or Sanji) had never met before

it's Kuro.

he doesn't beat around the bush when Ichiji asks for his identity; he tells him who he is, what he has done and how he ended up here

Kuro's story

following his defeat by the Straw Hats, Kuro set off to the Grand Line incognito after losing to the Straw Hats in the East Blue. since his bounty is still inactive and he's believed to be dead, he took advantage of travelling under disguise. after Luffy defeated him, Kuro had a lot of time to rethink his actions and his own perception of what it means to be a pirate.

he eventually woke up at the shores of Salossa, after a horrible hurricane-like storm in the Grand Line landed him there. with his ship smashed into smithereens and his remaining crew believed to have perished, Kuro wandered for days until he found a large settlement in a canyon with an oasis, Coyote Nest.

Kuro found himself welcomed by the citizens, even after they found out he's a pirate. as he would find out, the island Salossa is a "second chance" for lost people who had done wrong, but regrets their actions; a home for former outlaws, bounty hunters, pirates and assassins. basically outcasts who founded themselves a new home where everyone lives freely as they want.

Kuro decides to stay in Coyote Nest when it becomes clear for him that this is what he's sought for; a comfortable home where pirates, outlaws and other outcasts lives as they pleases and yet, are joined together as a community.

he forms a new pirate crew called the Coyote Pirates and is once again a pirate captain. he ventures on smaller voyages out in the sea, now equipped with a Log Pose to find his way back to Salossa, with a new ship and does as a pirate always does; seeks for adventures, treasures and occassionally fights battles with small fry pirate crews. Kuro got back his once forgotten passion of piracy. both Luffy and then Coyote Nest citizens played a large role in his own quest to refind himself as a pirate.

"3D2Y" and the Training of Hell

Ichiji finds out about Ace's death and his heart breaks, as Ace was his first love and you never really forget your first love. he's grief-struck, his heart aches for his captain, he's alone without his crew and seperated from Sanji, his other half

he realizes what the "3D2Y" code means and understands that he must train for two years, become so strong as he can become. for three days in a row, he asks Kuro on his knees to train him and gets refused as Kuro says Ichiji hasn't shown him his potential yet. Ichiji is relentless and keeps asking.

"I was born as a monster, but my captain turned me into a human. He must've seen my potential or I wouldn't be in his crew! I want to be of use for him, because Luffy will be the King of the Pirates!" - Ichiji

While Kuro is impressed, he isn't entirely convinced and gives him twelve tasks to perform around the island. he also warns him that these tasks aren't for the faint-hearted and will take its' toll on him. If he succeeds and doesn't fail one single one, he will train him to become an exemplary pirate. if not, he will reject him and Ichiji will have to fend for himself.

Ichiji's Twelve Tasks

i won't go into too much details about what these "twelve tasks" are (and yes, they are supposed to be inspired from Heracles' twelve quests in greek mythology), but Ichiji has a very Bad™ time and suffers, but he's extremely stubborn and refuses to give in.

it takes him two months to complete all his tasks and at this point, Ichiji is sunburnt, exhausted, gained some muscles and improved his stamina a lot. he hasn't even bothered with "luxury rights" (like warm baths and so). instead, he's elected to forage food he could find and washed himself in the few springs he could find.

now, Kuro is very impressed of his persistence and how thorough he's been with his tasks, not a single failure, and agrees to train him. but he also warns him that if he thought that his twelve tasks were difficult, then he better brace himself because he will live in hell for the next 22 months that remains of his "training time".

First Year: The Black Cat Swordsmanship and Haki

Ichiji learns much from Kuro, who proves to be a strict and unforgivable teacher. he gets up every sunrise to train, no matter which weather it is and it ranges from scorching heatwaves to monsoon with heavy rainfall.

Kuro learns that Ichiji has mastered the basics of swordsmanship in childhood and start to teach him the Black Cat Sword Style; a fencing type swordsmanship that combines accuracy, stealth, elegance and the ability to cut through anything, regardless of sword type.

the second phase is that Ichiji learns haki from him. he is surprised to learn that Kuro is well-versed in haki, but barely used it when he fought Luffy. Kuro only remarks that he doesn't rely too much on it and made the decition to fight Ichiji's captain in "a fair fight". regardless, Ichiji learns to harness his willpower as a spiritual power. he manages to awaken and master Observation Haki, he has a significantly tougher time with Armament Haki and he isn't able to unlock Conqueror's Haki at all.

Second Year: Daily Duels against Kuro of a Thousands Plans

once Kuro is certain that Ichiji has learnt everything he can teach in Black Cat Style and made sure his skills are polished, he challenges him to daily duels and the objective is to defeat him.

every day for the second year, Ichiji duels Kuro and ends up defeated. he understands that he's up for an impossible task as Kuro doesn't hold up the nickname "of a Thousands Plans" for nothing and he always has a back-up plan in every situation, no matter what. Ichiji figures out, after three months of daily defeats, that he needs to learn from this.

three weeks away from the two year deadline, Ichiji succeeds in defeating Kuro by cutting off his back-up plans, similar to how to defeat someone in chess. Kuro understands when the student has defeated his teacher and forfeits; telling Ichiji that no matter which plan he will come up with, every possible backup plan will end with his defeat and Ichiji has won.

the people of Coyote Nest holds a farewell feast for Ichiji, now when he's leaving to join his crew at Sabaody and enter the New World. he learns that he will board Kuro's new pirate ship with the Coyote Pirates to sail to Sabaody Archipelaego and it will take two and a half week. Kuro warns him that just because he has defeated him and mastered everything he's taught, it doesn't mean he will get lazy because it's now the real challenge will begin.

Reunion and Farewell

Ichiji reaches Sabaody as nearly the last one to arrive and the reason behind this delay is that the Coyote Pirates got almost intercepted by a Marine ship...which got quickly taken care of by Kuro, Ichiji and the Coyote Pirate and not without pillaging some gold and valuables.

just as Ichiji is about to bid farewell to his friends and companions of the past two years, the Straw Hats are being attacked by Marines who apparently anticipated their return. Ichiji is visibly annoyed by this and remarks "not even back for an hour and i already have to clean up their mess..."

Kuro, however, sees this as a chance to "have some fun", thinking back at how he had undergone a change of mind about piracy since he last encountered the Straw Hats.

his existence and dramatic reveal to the Marines causes quite a stir and gives Ichiji the chance to get to the Thousand Sunny safely. he is overjoyed to see his nakama again and gives them all each a hug. Robin takes notice of how Ichiji has changed, both in demeanor and physical appearence.

the Straw Hats sets sails as soon as Luffy, Zoro and Sanji (along with Chopper who went to fetch them). the Marines are still persistent to catch them, but they get attacked by an unknown pirate ship...which is the Coyote Pirates who has come to the Straw Hats' aid.

facing each other from their respective ships, Kuro and Ichiji has one final moment (and ignoring Usopp's scandalized hollering in the background).

Ichiji: Guess you're rid of me now, Kuro. Kuro: With my luck, I almost expect you to return to ruin my life. Ichiji: The New World is hardly for old-timers like you, so thanks for this time. Give everyone in Coyote Nest my thanks. Kuro: *smirks* Make sure you don't die, brat. Heads up. *throws something to Ichiji who catches it* Your graduation gift, use it well. Ichiji, almost touched to tears: ...you old bastard.

the "graduation gift" is a long rapier sword with an elegant handle, it's called "Noir", is one of the 21 Great Grade Blades and one of the very few swords that isn't a katana. previously belong to Kuro, he tells him that he's searched for a new sworduser to inherit Noir; it has to be someone he personally taught in sword skills, stealh, speed, accuracy and strategy, but also mastered at least observation and armament haki. and Ichiji is the one he has chosen as the new worthy owner.

Ichiji is unable to keep his emotions in check and ends up shouting "SHITTY CAT BASTARD!" across the ocean waves as Kuro's ship steers away from them.

and this marks the farewell to Kuro...for now. :)

#one piece #one piece au #straw hat ichiji au #ichiji runs away with sanji au #vinsmoke ichiji #scarlet ichiji #kuro of a thousands plans #one piece kuro #one piece 3D2Y #one piece timeskip #one piece post timeskip #pooks writes #pooks rambles

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