#also some of my ships of choice appear in this but you can easily dismiss them
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can u actually go over the significance of the sunflowers on the work wives’ table again? I think I missed it the first time and it sounds interesting
You have activated my trap card. Here is my thesis on the Work Wives Sunflowers.
Ok, I want to preface this by saying this is totally just a little bit of fun, and I am not totally deluded as to think this is A Thing. I have no expectations about this ship being canon, or there being Secret Meanings. It's more spotting a pattern and running with it. However, similarly - there is symbolism in this show in terms of costuming and set design, such as Janine's "love" necklace appearing and disappearing during story beats, writing on the teachers' boards being plot-relevant, etc, so it's not me being totally outlandish!
For nearly 30 consecutive there hasn't been any decorations on the table, only practical items like salt, pepper, a basket of leaflets/condiments, a napkin holder etc (with the exception of Pilot, where the tables were in a different configuration, the WW are at a different table and all the tables have a little plant).
For eg, here is all of S1:
In Fire, the table was damaged during a lapse of Barbara's mental health, where she became very insular with her own internal pain and didn't reach out to Melissa about it. It goes without saying that in the WW lore this table is basically a second home. The only time either of them sits anywhere else is when they fight, when Melissa ends up "sleeping on the couch" (other tables). This table getting damaged was a huge deal to Barbara and an inciting incident in her finally telling Melissa about Gerald's health problems and how it was upsetting her.
The table obviously had to be replaced after the fire damage, and was. In Teacher Conference, there is a new table, and a little bouquet has appeared, which stays through the next episode Mural Arts, squirreled away behind all the dinner paraphernalia.
But in Teacher Appreciation, the sunflowers appeared, huge and bright, two of them, a centrepiece, right there from the cold open.
An episode which, as we know, was a massive turning point in their relationship, where they fought, traded some really, really low blows that cut deep, but this time apologised on screen and reconciled - and one in which Barbara is wearing bright yellow when they do.
Immediately my squirrelly little brain started making connections about this, because they're SO bright and LARGE and PROMINENT and there wasn't any prominent decoration on the table before.
My initial thought was oh, it's teacher appreciation day, this can be dismissed easily as just a gift from one of the kids. But we saw a lot of gifts being given to them all in this ep, and the flowers aren't among them. It was @cdyssey who made the stitch for me that this is probably Barbara christening/homecoming the table/the physical manifestation of their friendship/relationship after her lapse damaged it in an episode which re-cements their connection after the events of Fire, and in an episode where their bond is tested. Flowers are her thing. It has to be Barbara.
We also haven't seen any other gift that was given become a recurring feature. They are always facing the wide-angle camera, two bright faces for the two of them in the configuration they always sit in, side by side. Barbara Howard, who loves flowers, no doubt has read up on flower language before. Sunflowers are representative of "silent love, loyalty, admiration, arrogance and unspoken love". This was, without a doubt, a deliberate choice, and so, so thematically relevant for not only the unspoken but incredibly strong bonds of their relationship (platonic, romantic or otherwise), but also the arrogance for which Barbara (and Melissa) took their relationship (and the symbolism of their shared table) for granted in the episode where they appeared, and in Fire where she didn't open up to Melissa and share her pain.
The sunflowers are a physical manifestation of what Barbara feels about her relationship with Melissa, and the sanctuary that is their second home: the table. A safety and enduring loyalty that has lasted decades and seen countless other colleagues and friendships and even Melissa's marriage come and go. For each other, they are a reliable, ever-present constant, a beam of sunlight no matter what they are weathering together.
The sunflowers stayed on the table for the following episode, disappeared 2x20 when Melissa was sat at the table alone (and was stressed and unmoored the whole episode), and the reappeared in 2x21, when the WW returned to the table again. And not only reappearing, but reappearing in a yellow outfit.
This cements to me that this is Barbara bringing them in each Monday - when she doesn't come into the lounge, the flowers aren't there.
As an addendum, I haven't re-checked the full series proper, but another time sunflowers have appeared in relation to WW is during another turning-point scene in 1x06, the "maybe this is it for me" scene with Barbara, Melissa & Gerald eating lunch that leads to Barbara encouraging Melissa to date again... but which also contains this look, where Barbara's mask nearly, fully slips one of the most significant times in the whole series and is a foundational moment in WW ship lore. Again, there are two sunflowers in this scene.
Yes, this whole thing is me being a delulu girl. Yes, it's me making tenuous connections for a non-canon ship and making a meal out of scraps. Yes, I fully enjoy this little theory and subscribe to it, and welcome anyone else to play around in the mud with me, too. If you wanna take this idea for fic etc, GO GO GO!
Thank you for coming to my TED talk.
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"This is the same fandom who can easily see that Eli Hale is implied to be Stiles’s stand in" literally EVERYONE noticed/pointed out that Eli is Stiles' replacement & an almost identical copy of Stiles (same mannerism, same hand gestures, same body language, etc). Not just fandom. Every single review points it out. It's no coincidence that they chose an actor who looks like Dylan, who rejected the TWM. Even Hoechlin admitted that Eli reminds him of Stiles, but Posey and Jeff forbid him to say it
I want to thank you for providing me with a crystal-clear example of what I've been trying to point out for years. This is exactly the "weird, twisted, and bizarre" behavior that Posey was talking about, which by some fantastic coincidence you submitted to my inbox exactly nine years after he said those words. This is what caused Poseygate, this obscene ability to look at what is actually happening on the screen and come to the absolutely wrong conclusion.
You will notice in my original post, that I never said that Eli Hale didn't share any characteristics with Stiles. My point, to reiterate, is that bizarre Sterek shippers see these similarities only in terms of their non-existent, non-canonical ship. They focus exclusively on Eli's choice of wardrobe, his insecurity, his love for Claudia's jeep, his troubled relationship with his father Derek, and twist it to mean "this means Sterek is real!" It doesn't.
Weirdly, it never occurs to them that Eli's character evokes the Teen Wolf aesthetic and that it serves to connect Eli emotionally to Derek, to the Sheriff, and most importantly, to Scott, who is the main character of the movie in the same way he is the main character of the show. Scott is feeling wistful and lost at the beginning of the movie but over the course of the story he re-establishes connections with Derek and his pack and especially with Allison, but he also forges new connections with Eli Hale. Derek and Eli have many powerful moments together, but Scott and Eli wander through the woods, play lacrosse together, fight enemies together. Eli reminds Scott of what's important, while Scott encourages Eli to grow. In the end, Scott and Eli take care of each other in a way very similar to how Scott and Stiles took care of each other.
And not only do Sterek shippers dismiss that, I am starting to believe that they are no longer capable of perceiving it. This cult-like veneration of a relationship that never was blinds them to what is actually happening on the screen. Of course, they hated the movie before it even came out -- to enjoy the story of Eli meeting Scott is to indulge in blasphemy. Of course you think that Jeff Davis could block Tyler Hoechlin, a producer of the movie and the star of his own show, from talking about how much a character reminds him of another character, or that Tyler Posey would even try.
Were they discouraged from doing it? Possibly. Because of people like you and these reviewers who would spend energy on a character who everyone knew wasn't going to be in the movie and wasn't necessary to appear in the movie. I'm sure it's super click-baity, but it isn't what the movie is about, and yet Sterek fanatics are still pursuing the thing that isn't there, that was never there, to the bizarre, weird and twisted exclusion of everything else.
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Interesting article by Tominey for The Telegraph:
The less Meghan and Harry earn, the more dangerous to the monarchy they may be
What Meghan wants is no longer what Meghan gets, it seems.
Perhaps it was by mutual consent but, to me, “part ways” sounds suspiciously like a more gentle way of saying: “You’re fired.”
Regardless of who actually pulled the plug, it must be deeply troubling for the couple that even those willing to pay a reported $20 million (£15 million) for the Duchess’s opinions no longer want to hear them.
For those who have never listened to Meghan “investigate, dissect and subvert the labels that try to hold women back”, the podcast largely featured the American former actress talking about herself through the medium of interviews with the likes of her “dear, dear friend” Serena Williams.
One particular gem was Meghan’s insistence that being “particular” does not make her difficult. As she explained: “I’m particular. I think a rising tide raises all ships. We’re all going to succeed so let’s make sure it’s really great – it’s a shared success ...You’re allowed to set a boundary. You’re allowed to be clear, does not make you demanding. It does not make you difficult, it makes you clear.”
Just to be clear – and I’m not trying to be difficult here – the recollections of those who worked for the Duchess at the Palace may vary. For further clarity – and I make no apology for being particular on this – she denies the bullying claims.
Meanwhile, Deadline claims that the people at WME, the big Hollywood agency that signed the Duchess in April, are building on the couple’s film and TV production, brand partnerships and overall business.
Yet while there will no doubt be some toasting the news of Archetypes’s demise, the Palace powers-that-be should perhaps be mindful that the more the Sussexes’ earning power recedes, the more dangerous they could become.
While the Duke may have said all he wants to in his autobiography Spare, and accompanying interviews (although he has claimed he has enough material for a second book), the Duchess is clearly still brimming with “content” that is seemingly bursting to come out.
And while a great deal of it can easily be dismissed as word salad, she’s never been afraid of adding a splash of vinegar dressing when discussing her royal relatives.
she rather ominously revealed to the US magazine The Cut last August: “It takes a lot of effort to forgive. I’ve really made an active effort, especially knowing that I can say anything … I have a lot to say until I don’t. Do you like that? Sometimes, as they say, the silent part is still part of the song.”
She also said: “It’s interesting, I’ve never had to sign anything that restricts me from talking. I can talk about my whole experience and make a choice not to.”
This is a woman, it appears, who has kept the receipts and may not be afraid to brandish them should the need arise.
Nor should it be overlooked just how expensive the Sussexes’ lives in Montecito are. If it wasn’t costly enough to be spending hundreds of thousands of dollars a year on security, Harry has also been involved in litigation against several newspaper groups and the Home Office.
So the Palace’s supporters are celebrating a pyrrhic victory if they think the Sussexes’ de-Spotification is a good thing.
The more desperate the duo are to land new deals, the more demanding their paymasters may be about the type of content they provide. Think Spare on steroids.
The other danger is the Sussexes’ constant desire to do everything in a hurry, which is what put them at odds with the steady House of Windsor in the first place. While the Duke and Duchess have been determined to share their “truth” at the speed of 100 mph, the Royals have always operated at a much slower pace (rather like travelling in a yellow cab through New York when you are not being “chased” by paparazzi).
Take this weekend’s Trooping the Colour. It’s hard to believe it now, but it was 10 years before the Princess of Wales was actually allowed to appear on the Buckingham Palace balcony under the Firm’s “no ring, no bring” policy. Royal life is a marathon, not a sprint.
Megxit may have been about many things. But one should never underestimate the lengths the Sussexes will go to to achieve the “financial independence” they have always been looking for.
Full article
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Today is Two For One because these two eps pretty much follow onto each other in terms of storylines and themes etc.
Black Sails V and VI (s1 eps 05-06)
- A big plot point in these two episodes is Billy mistrusting and investigating Flint. It starts with Flint approaching Billy and claiming he wants an “honest” conversation with him (note that he’s had time to think about what he’ll say to Billy, coming back to my previous comment about how Flint does better at persuasion when he has time to script things). Flint explains that you can’t ever be entirely truthful to a crew because if you explain any risk of failure they’ll be demoralised. He also talks very briefly about Miranda, portraying her as a “nice Puritan woman” who likes books. When Billy asks if this is really true, Flint just gives him That Wink. Billy spends the episode wavering between trying to support both Flint and protect the crew, clearly conflicted. This feeling intensifies when Logan asks whether Flint will give up trying to get the guns even if the situation becomes extremely dangerous, and Billy can see that Flint is risking the lives of men to get at the guns and knows what he did on the Maria Aleyne. The last straw is the discovery of Miranda’s letter and the realisation that she didn’t prevent Guthrie from betraying them like she was supposed to. Gates dismisses Billy’s doubts and refuses to get into it, mostly in a stategic move, knowing that Flint is the only one who can get them through this battle, and that they all need to obey him in this moment.
- Speaking of battles, this is the first prolonged sea battle we get to see, and the first time that Flint is given a really worthy opponent in the character of Bryson. Bryson is extremely clever and uses both sailing and defense/siege/booby-trap strategies that make taking the Andromache practically impossible to take. Flint shows a lot of resourcefulness in response: he seems to know exactly how much his ship can take and how to handle it (in spite of DeGroot’s warnings, which end up being unfounded for once) and hammers out a good (if dangerous) strategy to board the ship. However, this isn’t enough to outwit Bryson, who’s extremely well prepared for a siege if he gets boarded and has the Scarborough already heading their way. In fact if the slaves in the hold hadn’t helped the pirates, I doubt Flint would have had to leave without the guns. Even when he’s dying, Bryson still attempts to blow his ship up. In fact, his explosive booby trap has a real impact on what happens in the end of episode 6.
- It’s interesting to watch Dufresne in his first battle. He’s clearly meant for us to identify with, as the “nerd” on the ship who’s never seen battle. Following him allows us to see the faces of a lot of crew members, to feel the tension and fear before boarding the other ship, the desperation of the battle, and... okay I’m not sure just anyone would go feral like Dufresne does and rip someone’s throat out. This is definitely a turning point in Dufresne’s character.
- Something new in Billy’s character that he is shown lying to Dufresne to reassure him before the battle, using exactly the technique Flint mentioned earlier. First he tried telling Dufresne that guns only go off half the time - not at all reassuring. Then he tells Dufresne that sailors on their crew never die in their first battle. Only after the battle, does Dufresne realise that what Billy told him isn’t true - and tells Billy that he appreciates the lie. Does this change Billy’s point of view on lying? Is lying all right, for a good cause?
- In the meantime, Eleanor is saddled with Silver. I absolutely love this plot line and wish these two had worked together some more, because they’re hilarious. Silver knows that Eleanor’s angry with him and finally gets to find out that it’s because he involved Max in his scheme, but he flatly refuses taking any responsibility for that, saying it was Max’s choice (which it was). Later, when the angry pirates are turning into a mob, Silver is clearly getting anxious and Eleanor pretending not to be, he says: "if you're pretending to remain unconcerned for my peace of mind, please don't", a line mirrored in S2, where Flint openly admits to Silver that he’s “appearing unconcerned” as a strategy (and thus establishing the Flint/Eleanor parallel). Finally, Silver confronts Eleanor about the danger of not appeasing the mob by letting Vane operate out of Nassau again; she asks him to convince her why she should - and he actually does. It takes two hours, but he actually gets through to her. In this conversation, he utters the classic line “guilt is natural; it also goes away, if you let it”. Clearly he’s had to make some nasty choices for his survival, and likely he has quite a personal experience of mobs, too.
- Richard Guthrie continues to be one of the biggest assholes of the show. In these two episodes he 1) betrayed Mr Scott by telling Bryson to kidnap him and sell him as a slave, 2) announcing that he’s liquidating his holdings in Nassau without warning Eleanor and saddling her with the angry mob, 3) shamelessly revealing to Eleanor how he betrayed her and why, disregarding the fact that she’s made Nassau what it is over the last few years, 4) is worming his way into Mr Underhill’s good books and got himself a cosy and very safe place to live while all hell breaks loose in Nassau.
- Speaking of Mr Scott, he ends up amongst the slaves in Bryson’s ship and appears somewhat disdainful towards them, mostly because he doesn’t want to knows the realities of what would happen to them if they joined the pirates (some would still be sold as slaves). Eme believes that they should still seize their chance for freedom, but Mr Scott won’t help the pirates get these weapons, which “are dangerous to someone I love". This of course is understood as being Eleanor, but it also easily be interpreted as the Maroon Queen/Madi in light of S3. In fact, it makes much more sense that he is resisting the Urca plan to protect them/his community than because he’s worried that Eleanor will be killed. Eme counters that he’ll never see this person again, which still isn’t quite enough to break his resolve. Finally, once Mr Scott has changed his mind and helped free the slaves and ended up helping Flint, he has a conversation with him. Flint decides not to tell the crew of Mr Scott's betrayal, because he’d rather prove Mr Scott wrong re: making Nassau into more than it currently is.
- Anne’s inability to bear the violence done to Max comes to a head in these episodes. First she dismisses Mrs Mapleton who’s not being all too gentle while “tending” to Max, and the brief talk between Max and Anne seems to reinforce Anne’s resolve to stop Hamund (looked him up) (but did they really need to bond while Anne pushes a phallic instrument into Max’s cervix after lubing it up? there’s clear sexual innuendo in the way it’s filmed and it’s pretty inappropriate). It’s only when Rackham sees Anne defending the entrance to Max’s tent and can’t believe that Anne would put herself in danger over “a fucking whore”, that it finally dawns on him that Anne is horrified with this situation (something he could have guessed considering the circumstances in which he met Anne). Once Max is freed and thanks Anne, Anne tells her that she didn’t do it for Max. Which is probably not completely true, but again what we know of Anne’s past also means that she didn’t want to see any woman treated that way.
- The theme of men siding together and not listening to women comes up several times in these two episodes. Guthrie says that he persuaded Mr Scott to betray Eleanor because “we talked like men and he saw reason”. The “like men” suggests that men support each other’s decisions, especially to resist a woman’s folly. The Consortium refuses to listen to Eleanor unless a respected captain, in this case Hornigold, also backs it. But of course Hornigold won’t back it unless Eleanor allows Vane to become a captain again; he considers how Vane’s men are treating the “thieving whore” to be of absolutely no relevance. Rackham opposes Anne’s attempt at stopping Hamund from visiting Max to protect her from Hamund, who he fears would harm Anne. And finally, Pastor Lambrick doesn’t believe Miranda when she tells him that doesn’t need to fear Flint’s anger.
- An answer to this is unlikely collaboration between women people in ep 6, aka, Eleanor and Anne who deeply despises her. Both of them share a sense of responsibility for what happened to Max, and believe that they’ll only feel better when Max is free and Hamund is dead. John “guilt will go away if you let it” Silver is roped into the plot, when Eleanor, reminds him that he’s a “loose end” to Flint, who will likely want to get rid of him, and promises to tell Flint not to kill Silver after he’s served his purpose if Silver helps them. Which he does, begrudgingly, and at the risk of getting murdered by Hamund at any moment. This puts Eleanor and Anne’s plan to kill Vane’s remaining crew into place, and ruffles Rackham’s feathers: he’s forced to help kill even the men who aren’t disgusting rapists like Hamund. He asks "do I not deserve say", to which Anne answers "you had your say, now I have mine". GOOD FOR HER.
- When the dust settles, we get a really interesting moment where Silver accurately analyses Eleanor, pointing out that she can’t stand to be wrong, feel weak or let anyone get away with fucking with her - which makes her in his opinion possibly more dangerous than Flint. Does this mean that Silver still thinks he had a genuine chance of winning Flint over and surviving him even without Eleanor’s help? (he’d be right, considering how his relationship with Flint evolves later on the show; perhaps the difference between Flint and Eleanor is that because she’s a woman, she can’t *afford* to show any weakness at all)
- Lambrick has his big moment in episode 6 when he rides chivalrously to Miranda in the middle of the night, hoping to save her from Flint’s retribution. Instead of really reassuring him, Miranda chooses to talk about Thomas instead. This is where we hear the most about Thomas in S1, and the way Miranda speaks about him is clearly loving and admiring. She compares Thomas to Lambrick, saying that he was also a sort of shepherd (the comparison stops here imo). Then she imagines how Thomas would have played devil’s advocate, left all of Lambrick’s beliefs in tatters, all for his own good, to free him from the yoke of shame. I can’t help but think, from her teasing tone and the way she smiles, that she believes that Thomas would have somehow debauched Lambrick. The fact that she decides to have sex with him moments later certainly supports that idea. The ghost of Thomas looms on this scene, and it could be that she briefly imagines being with him, which could explain her smile and the way she holds him afterwards. But Miranda had another reason for sleeping with him: it was a very good way to make him stop asking questions about Flint.
- And in the meantime, Flint knows that Billy has been asking questions about Miranda and overheard him talking angrily with Gates about the letter. It just so happens that Billy has to go cut off a piece of the Andromache’s sail that’s slowing the Walrus down, which puts him in a secluded and dangerous spot. The conversation between Flint and Billy is very brief: Flint asks about the letter Billy found, and Billy answers “I think you know what was in it”. Actually, no, Flint has NO CLUE what was in it. Whatever else passes between them is a mystery, and the next thing we know is Flint announcing that Billy went overboard. We see him hovering behind Gates, watching him intently, until Gates decides that they can’t turn back for Billy. The camera pans a lot on Flint’s face, and his expression is quite unreadable. At first I wasn’t convinced that he’d pushed Billy, but on this watch I’m not so sure, because of the way Flint’s face is filmed. There’s also a sort of clue where we see Flint throw Billy’s sword into the sea during the burial at sea ritual. Of course as Captain he was meant to do that... but the gesture is suggestive of him throwing Billy himself. It’s certainly true that Billy had become a thorn in his side for two reasons: 1) he was one of the rare crew members who could influence Gates and get him on his side; 2) he was much too interested in who Mrs Barlow was and what her motivations were - if Billy had alerted the crew of what she’d done, Miranda may have been in danger (a mob quickly turns against a witch who works against the crew).
- To finish on Flint and Miranda: season 1 has painted them as a unit, an inseparable pair, working as a team (in supernatural ways, sometimes). And to some extent they are. Even at this time where they are truly at odds, where Miranda has tried to take control of Flint’s fate behind his back, they are still protecting each other. Flint doesn’t reveal anything about Miranda and possibly attempts to kill Billy to protect her, while Miranda seduces Pastor Lambrick as a way to distract him from his questions about Flint. She can’t convince him to believe her, but she herself is clearly convinced that Flint is a good, decent person (as she tells the Boston judge in her letter) and she trusts that he knows that she only tried to stop him get the Urca because she wanted to save him - something he will come to accept by the end of S2 (unfortunately for them).
#black sails#flint#silver#eleanor#max#maxanor#maxanne#anne#miranda#flintmiranda#gates#billy#billy & gates#dufresne#rackham#rackhanne#hornigold#richard guthrie#mr scott#mr scott & eleanor#long post cw#black sails rewatch#meta
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I Can’t Pet Force You To Read This One, But...
Hey there, high school crushes. Well, it's finally here. Can you believe it? Yes, counting from the original Xanga site (which, yes, still counts. It's like our own Golden Age publication or apocryphia), this is our 10th anniversary of reviewing comics. That's fantastic. I'm excited, can't you tell? I can tell, since I'm writing this preamble a good two months before the actual anniverary~
So, last year we reviewed the absolute pile of dreck that is Heroes in Crisis. And while that was worth ripping into, I'd rather not spend the 10th anniversary hating on something. I'd like to do something actually meaningful to me. I've teased about this one for many years, probably for as long as I've been doing this blog, and I think it's time we stopped pussyfooting around and reviewed some Garfield. But not just any Garfield. It's finally time, my friends. This... is Garfield's Pet Force.
I dunno how many people will remember this one. Maybe you recall the direct-to-DVD movie adaptation from 2009, or at least advertising for it. I never saw it, but apparently it differs a bit. They also appeared a few times in those Garfield comics from back in the day. We even reviewed a couple (some were on the Xanga blog). But what we're looking at here are the original novellas published between 1997 and 1999. So yeah, these really are from my childhood. And since I've long espoused that Garfield was always funnier 20 years ago, this must be actual premium Garfield content, yeah? By golly, I hope so, because we got five whole books here today. So we should probably get into them~
Book 1: The Outrageous Origin
This is a classic sort of superhero cover. Standard team shot of poses, and that's fine for a first volume. In fact, that's great. Later editions of this would replace the lightning-filled gradient background with a pure white one, but I have this original version. We'll get to specifics about these characters in the meat of the story, but let's talk about the costumes for a bit. Very classic early-'90s sort of look, before the Dark Age kicked in. Reminds me a lot of Jim Lee's X-Men designs, actually. Making all your characters visually distinct is important in a team book. The heavy lean into secondary colours is unusual for heroic characters, but not unwelcome.
So we actually start with a cold open in the superhero universe. This is pretty much to introduce us to the characters as soon as possible, and thus I'll do the same for you here.
*Garzooka, team leader, super strong, has a razor-sharp claw, and can shoot radioactive hairballs from his mouth. That's... at least a unique power, I don't think anyone on the Justice League can do that~
*Odious, the dumb muscle with the accent on the "dumb". Possibly even stronger than Garzooka, and possessing a "super-stretchy stun tongue", an elastic tongue that can scramble the minds of whoever it adheres to.
*Starlena, the team girl. She can fly, and she has a siren song that can put those who hear it into a hypnotic trance. Garzooka is the only one immune to its effects, for reasons that are never explained.
*Abnermal, the kid-appeal character. He has ice powers, forcefields, and an ill-defined "pester power" that means he can annoy people on a greater scale than normal folks. It's pretty much only used for comic relief, but that could be a brilliant power in the right hands.
*Compooky, the brains of the operation. Other than flight, his powers are limited to super intelligence, which means he's usually the exposition guy. There's probably a reason they left him out of the movie adaptation~
You got all that? Don't worry, we'll introduce you again later in the book. What actually happens in the intro chapter isn't really important, it's just setting up the universe. In fact, it's all taking place within Pet Force #99, a comic just enjoyed by Nermal. Yes, we quickly cut over to the main Garfield universe ("our universe", the narrator calls it), where Pet Force is just a comic book. The Garfield gang is all outside, enjoying a cookout prepared by Jon Arbuckle. Nermal is extremely enthused by his comic book, and brags about how he has all 98 previous issues sealed and polybagged, and this one will soon join them. Sorry, Nermal, this came out in 1997, the speculator boom already went bust~
Garfield dismisses comic books as stupid because you can't eat them or use them as a blanket, and declares that none of the stuff that happens in the comic could possibly happen in real life. Uh oh, irony! Because these things can happen, and do! It's a parallel universe, baby! This might be one of my earliest introductions to a "parallel worlds" concept. Much like Earths 1 and 2 in pre-Crisis DC, the events of the comic are essentially the real life adventures of their super-powered counterparts in another dimension. Most of the action in these stories will take place there~
So here's the setup: Vetvix (the parallel equivalent to Liz the veternarian) is an evil sorceress and scientist, who essentially wants to experiment on animals in peace, and possibly subjugate the universe while she's at it. You could argue that Liz is an odd choice for villain, since our universe's Liz isn't particularly evil. But then, our universe's Garfield isn't particularly heroic either. She operates out of a deadly space station called the Orbiting Clinic of Chaos, and at present she's waiting for the arrival of her henchman, Space Pie-Rat, who is a six-foot-tall anthropomorphic rat dressed in stereotypical pirate getup. Vetvix has just finished inventing a levitation ray, and she'd like Pie-Rat to go out and use it to steal all the food in the universe. Vetvix doesn't think small, is what I'm saying.
The counter to Vetvix is Emperor Jon, ruler of the planet Polyester. He's kind and benevolent, even if he's a little dippy and his fashion sense atrocious. Having gotten wind of Vetvix's latest plan, he contacts Pet Force in their ship, the Lightspeed Lasagna. Upon learning the problem, Pet Force gives chase to Pie-Rat. They eventually corner him on some desolate planet, landing and entering an abandoned factory. Unfortunately, they're not safe amongst the dangerous machinery, because this turns out to be a trap. Vetvix has been busy as hell, because she's also invented a metal that's impervious to their powers. And that's not all, because she's also basically invented the Phantom Zone, where she traps Pet Force forever. It specifically mentions it doesn’t kill them, because it wouldn't be kosher to murder the heroes in a Garfield book~
The Lightspeed Lasagna has both onboard cameras connected to the heroes' belts as well as automatic return protocols, so within two days, Emperor Jon knows exactly what's happened to Pet Force. He needs help, so he calls upon his most trusted and powerful advisor: Binky the Sorceror. Binky's just as loud and obnoxious as in the main universe, but he's also a powerful magician. He conjures up a spell for Emperor Jon that lets him pierce the veil between universes. It's basically Equestria Girls rules: parallel universes have similar characters between them. So to replace Pet Force, they need the nearest genetic equivalents from another universe. And that's the versions of Garfield, Odie, Arlene, Nermal, and Pooky that we know and love~
Back in the main universe, it's another day entirely. Another cookout is taking place, and Nermal has received his special anniversary issue of Pet Force #100. The cover's really special, dripping with '90s cover gimmicks like glow-in-the-dark and embossing. A rarely used one, though, was "portal to another universe". That was pretty expensive to print, so you won't find many comics like Nermal's. Maybe he had something there with the collecting after all. The cover glows, and while Jon is distracted by the grill, Garfield and Friends disappear~
They reappear in Emperor Jon's wood-paneled throne room, now transformed into Pet Force. Emperor Jon and Sorceror Binky try to explain the situation, but Garfield--now Garzooka--is disbelieving of the whole thing. In fact, even the idea that Jon can now hear him talk absolutely floors him. Since he's about to deliver the exposition for everyone, can we talk about Compooky for a minute? This spell has just granted sapience to Garfield's teddy bear. I don't expect deep philosophy from a children's novella, but the ramifications of this are really under-explored. Like, never mind the whole idea of a teddy bear having the same genetic makeup as an alternate universe equivalent. He goes from inanimate object to fully conscious being, and he just rolls with it.
Anyways, once everybody gets caught up on what's going on and accepts the new reality, a training montage ensues so the group can all learn to use their powers without killing each other. Once at least reasonably trained, the reborn Pet Force is sent out to stop Pie-Rat. He's gotten sloppy in the times with Pet Force dead, so they track him down easily. After a brief scuffle where Garzooka takes his eyepatch, Pie-Rat flees in his ship. They follow Pie-Rat back to the Orbital Clinic of Chaos, but they can't go in the front. That led the original Pet Force into a trap. Finding an unguarded maintenance hatch--standard on any big space station--they enter Vetvix's lair for a final confrontation!
After dealing with the Waiting Room of Doom, which slowly fills with outdated magazines, they enter Vetvix's inner sanctum. Frustrated with Pie-Rat's failure, she uses her magic to turn him into an ordinary mouse. Vetvix then attempts to use her same weapon on this new Pet Force, but thanks to story contrivance, it only works on beings born in this universe. As other dimensional visitors already, they can't be banished to another dimension. She then pulls a Dr. Claw and runs off cursing Pet Force's name while her base self-destructs. Vetvix is a very "discard and draw" sort of villain, it seems. Pet Force, of course, makes a harrowing escape just in the nick of time.
Returning to Emperor Jon, they vow to be ready to return whenever they're called on, since evil never stays dormant for long. Odious even gifts Emperor Jon with the mouse-ified Pie-Rat as proof of their victory. Well, I'm glad they remember that, so they didn't accidentally murder a major villain in their first superhero outing. They're returned to their own universe, and the time differential between them places them back with Jon having not had time to even look up from the grill. Garfield begins to doubt the adventure even happened--until that night, when he finds Pie-Rat's eyepatch still on his person. Ah, definitive proof of... eyepatches, I guess~
Book 2: Pie-Rat's Revenge!
You have to wonder where, in a space-faring superhero setting, Pie-Rat got the inspiration for his classic pirate motif. It's a little incongruous is all I'm saying. And hey, remember when I said earlier that Garzooka's purple-and-green colour scheme was odd for a hero? Well, here he is as a villain! That'll catch your eye. This would be a terrific comic cover, which is what you want in a series like this.
The book opens with a brief recap of the previous story's events, then moves into the new plot. See, Emperor Jon has opted to keep the polymorphed Pie-Rat as his pet. How very Ron Weasley of him. That's pretty apt, actually, because similarly Pie-Rat has maintained his intelligence in his new mousey form. Pie-Rat gets sick of being Emperor Jon's pet and plans a daring escape, exploiting the emperor's dimwitted and loving personality against him. Pie-Rat jams the lock with a food pellet and makes his escape that night.
Once free from his cage, he encounters Binky's cauldron, still left in the throne room from when the sorceror summoned Pet Force from Garfield's universe. Figuring he has nothing to lose, Pie-Rat jumps in the leftover brew. Suddenly he finds himself growing. He returns to his original anthropomorphic state--but with a twist. He's now twice his original height, a staggering twelve feet tall. He scoops up the rest of the remaining potion for later, and sneaks out of the palace as best as a 12-foot rat can sneak. Desiring revenge on both his former employer and his longtime foes, he steals Pet Force's ship and makes his escape from the planet, headed for Vetvix's newest base.
After his guards help Emperor Jon put the pieces of the problem together, they decide they must once again call upon the powers of Pet Force to recover their missing vehicle and stop the newly embiggened Pie-Rat. Fortunately, Garfield and friends have been watching movies all weekend, so Jon doesn't notice when his pets disappear from the living room in a bright flash. Of course, once returned to the alternate universe and the situation explained, they still have a problem: how do they give chase to Pie-Rat when he's got their ship?
And speaking of Pie-Rat in their ship, he's followed the trail of a mysterious energy output, and it's led him right to Vetvix's new base, the Menacing Moon of Mayhem. See, this is why you don't blow up your base: the backup base is never as good. if it was, it wouldn't be the backup. Given that it's such a shoddy base, Pie-Rat is easily able to get inside and get close to Vetvix. She's expecting a technological attack, so she's unprepared when he pulls out that vial of magic potion and sprinkles her with it. And naturally, the potion that made him grow 12 feet tall makes Vetvix shrink to 5 inches. It's magic, we don't have to explain it!
Pie-Rat takes the magic crystal that Vetvix uses to fuel her powers, which of course didn't shrink because magic is just bullshit. See previous paragraph's last sentence. And while Pie-Rat takes over the base and begins plotting a further revenge against Pet Force, we cut over to them. They're at Sorceror Binky's own castle, and it's clear he's a bit of a hoarder. This is to their advantage, though, as they eventually piece together a working spaceship out of old car parts and other things, all patched together between Compooky's know-how and Binky's magic. This seems like the sort of book where I could use that "it's magic" quote every other paragraph. But craft a new--if small--ship they do, and speed off in the newly christened Planetary Pizza.
The rickety little ship does eventually find its way to Pie-Rat's base, saving him the trouble of being proactive as a villain. The magic thing keeps happening, and Pie-Rat basically becomes Discord for a bit while he fights them, doing things like turning Starlena's siren song into actual living music notes. One by one, the members of Pet Force are taken out, with only Garzooka is left. He and Pie-Rat struggle, while Pie-Rat tries to aim the magic crystal at Garzooka. Garzooka uses his claw to rip the crystal from Pie-Rat and defeat him.
Unfortunately, here's where the cover comes in. It seems the moments Pie-Rat was focusing the crystal during the struggle affected Garzooka's mind. He puts the crystal around his own neck. which turns him evil. He helps Pie-Rat to his feet, and the pair escape in the Lightspeed Lasagna. While Pet Force pursues them in their ramshackle ship, the new criminal duo strikes the storage planet of Deli to steal their food. Pet Force manages to catch up as the villains celebrate their spoils, and use a magic blast from the systems Binky installed to short out the Lightspeed Lasagna. This enables them to dock with the ship and climb aboard for a contfrontation.
The group fights, and once again the bearer of a bullshit magic crystal subdues the heroes easily. Annoyed now, Garzooka takes hold of Starlena and prepares to kill her or something. She taps into the one thing she has left: she's not fighting just Garzooka, but Garfield in his body. She drops some heavy put-downs, which resonate with Garfield, and he hesitates long enough for her to cut the crystal off him. The crystal hits the floor and shatters, undoing its evil magics on Garzooka's mind as well as on all his teammates. With Pet Force reunited, Pie-Rat is easily subdued and locked up.
The group waits for the ship to power back up, then speed off to apologise to the planet Deli. Following that, they head back towards Vetvix's moonbase. That night, though, the magic that was making Pie-Rat 12 feet tall wears off, and he escapes from his cell. He steals the remaining shards of the crystal, climbs into the Planetary Pizza, and makes a getaway. As a bonus, he also repeats the power-down spell against the bigger ship, giving him ample time to escape. And he's not the only one. Over on the Menacing Moon of Mayhem, Vetvix also returns to her proper size, and abandons this base as well. And when Pet Force fails to find her, they simply return to their own universe, ready to be called on once again in the future~
Book 3: K-Niner: Dog of Doom!
Another very basic comic book-style cover. K-Niner is a much more typical villain in style. This one's actually a wrap-around, and features the rest of Pet Force reacting to K-Niner on the back cover. Which is good because, other than the first cover, the covers all have a heavy Garzooka focus. Which makes sense for a book series, I suppose, you wanna assure the kiddos that Garfield's gonna be in the book. But as a comic book series, this would be a bad look for a team book~
So after our standard introduction and recap, we start off with Vetvix in yet another new base, the Floating Fortress of Fear. I'm sure it's very intimidating, if she can keep hold of it for more than a single book. She's picking up from the epilogue and putting the last touches on K-Niner, mostly enhancing his intelligence. Now, you look at the cover and tell me what kind of voice you'd expect. Some sort of German or Austrian accent, like the doberman on Road Rovers? Does anyone remember Road Rovers~? Anyways, but no: he speaks with a posh British accent. You know, the "I say, good chaps, looks like we're in a bit of a sticky wicket, eh wot?" type. Trust me, you can tell. But just because he sounds refined doesn't mean he's not evil.
I also love that after the initial "trapped them in the Phantom Zone" bit, the villains just go whole ham. K-Niner here demonstrates that he is indeed evil by threatening to rip out Vetvix's throat. Let your villains be villainous is all I'm saying. She's pleased he's so vicious, but feels he needs to learn his place as well. She force-chokes him until he complies. She then gives him his assignment: she thinks dogs should be liberated. The Boy Mayor of Second Life would approve, and so does K-Niner. Turning pets on their masters is just his style.
K-Niner takes a portable evolution gun, and immediately sets off. He begins on the planet Kennel. Isn't it neat how every planet is named after an English word that describes its function? K-Niner quickly takes over the dog population and turns them against their masters, because boosting their intelligence also makes them evil, of course. They use enslavement collars on their former owners, and within a few days, the dogs now run the planet. We cut over to Emperor Jon on Polyester, where a man has crash-landed a ship. He's an escapee from Kennel, and he's here to report the events so we can get the plot moving and once more summon Pet Force!
And summoned once more they are, Garfield and Friends once more conveniently disappearing in a split second while Jon's back is turned (this time they're outside playing volleyball). And once back in the parallel universe, Emperor Jon fills them all in on K-Niner's dastardly doings. Garzooka, naturally, takes great offense to dogs being in charge, and takes his duties as a hero completely seriously for once. Pet Force takes off for a confrontation with K-Niner in the Lightspeed Lasagna. And speaking of Pet Force's ships...
The Planetary Pizza, piloted by Pie-Rat, plants its pads down on polar planet Glacia. Pie-Rat is here seeking a way to restore his magic crystal and regain his mighty magic powers. He's sought out the home of a legendary evil wizard, who's known by the name of... Barfo. I see why Barfo keeps his location a secret. But anyway, Barfo is the one who made the crystal, so naturally Pie-Rat reasons he can restore it as well. Suprisingly once on Glacia, Barfo's evil lair is pretty easy to find. His manservant, Hobart the Gnome, brings Pie-Rat before the wizard, and within moments the crystal is restored! Pie-Rat turns to thank Hobart, but Hobart suddenly turns into Vetvix!
Yes, Vetvix knew all along that Pie-Rat's quest would lead him here. And as she was once Barfo's student in the ways of evil magic, she knew she could get the old coot to go along with her plan. Barfo returns the crystal to Vetvix, restoring her powers. And so Pie-Rat, a recurring villain in three whole books, is unceremoniously done away with, as Vetvix teleports him inside an asteroid, trapping him in solid rock. Even if the asteroid were hollow or he displaced the interior when he teleported in, no doubt he'll suffocate within moments. That's pretty harsh.
With that over, we rejoin Pet Force as they approach Kennel. K-Niner's battle cruiser spots them incoming, and shoots the ship down, even in spite of Abnermal's forcefields. Pet Force bail out of the ship, and Abnermal uses his powers to make snow to cushion their fall. Upon landing, a contingent of mutant animals attack. The mooks aren't much, but K-Niner himself puts up an impressive fight. However, one of the mooks pulls a gun and points it at Compooky. This is why Compooky usually stays aboard the ship, but that wasn't an option. Rather than let their friend get hurt, Pet Force surrenders.
Pet Force is held prisoner separately from Compooky, with both the cell's technology making it freeze-proof and threats of "don't break out, or we'll shoot your compatriot". Their imprisonment is not long, though, as suddenly the power goes out. Pet Force takes advantage of the situation and make their escape, quickly running into Compooky. K-Niner didn't think the hyper-intelligent teddy bear needed a high security cell, and just locked him in the basement. It was easy for him to then break out and shut down the local power grid. This also has the side effect of turning off the control collars the humans were wearing. How convenient!
With control of the planet now tilted in their favour, Pet Force now has time to both fix their ship and reverse the polarity of the brain-boosting weapons, turning the dog population of Kennel back to their normal selves. Though the experience did change the pet owners of Kennel. Having experienced life in their pets' shoes (so to speak) for a bit, they've resolved to treat their canine companions a bit more equally. More being allowed on the furniture, less stupid tricks for treats. Still, Pet Force can't stay long, and they head off in pursuit of K-Niner's battle cruiser. This is why most superheroes don't have spaceships (Jedis don't count): if your enemy also has one, they can flee way more easily than on foot.
Not willing to let another place go to the dogs, as it were, Pet Force catches up with K-Niner. With his previous success, Vetvix has stepped up the timetable and sent him after Polyester right away. Emperor Jon is in danger! They enter the planet's atmosphere, and are attacked by fighter craft. They fend them off, but their weapons system is damaged in the fight, so they can't simply use the reverse brain-rays and solve it quickly. The team splits up instead: Garzooka and Abnermal will go after K-Niner, while the other three will find the planet's power source and knock out the collars, since that worked so well the last time.
The two heroes quickly make short work of K-Niner's guards, and then turn the battle to deal with the Dog of Doom himself. While the struggle goes on, the rest of Pet Force reach the planet's power grid. Using a clever tactic, Compooky overloads the power and causes and electrical storm that simultaneously undoes the brain-boosting effect and shorts out the enslavement collars. There's only a few pages left, after all, and we have to wrap this up. K-Niner is reverted back into an ordinary dog, and the emperor is reverted to an ordinary non-enslaved person. The day is saved!
And now once again, Pet Force prepares to return to their own universe. However... when the spell clears, the five heroes are still standing there. Something is blocking the passage between dimensions, and Pet Force is trapped. And while Pet Force's adventures have taken place between mere moments in their own universe, they have always returned quickly enough that Jon didn't notice a thing. But this time, as Jon retrieves the volleyball and turns around to his pets, he's surprised to find they've all vanished into thin air...
Book 4: Menace of the Mutanator
This one's very striking because of its more painted look compared to the heavy black outlines the rest of the covers have. Does this one count as having the whole team on the cover? Because, spoilers, that's what the Mutanator is: the rest of Pet Force mashed up into a villain. Again, though, that's definitely a striking image that'd draw in readers to a comic cover. In fact, while Garzooka may be over-used as a cover focus, several of these also show him imperiled in some way, and that's nice for character stuff. That helps balace it a bit~
I wanna say, before we start, that I'm impressed by the continuity for the series as a whole. They could've just written each story as a standalone, but for a series of 100-page children's novellas starring Garfield characters as superheroes, things happen in these books. Like, maybe not sweeping status quo changes, but events affect the plot of each next book down the line. And that's where we pick up! Right where the last book left off, with Pet Force now stuck in the alternate universe, unable to return home to Jon. But if they can't go home to Jon, well, maybe then events will conspire to bring Jon to them~
Yep, because Jon happens to wander into the room where they keep the copy of Pet Force #100 that acts as a portal to their universe, he gets transported into the Pet Force universe. And since Emperor Jon is still an extant entity, there's just two Jons now. Jon, of course, is a bit freaked out, and it takes several pages to explain the whole deal to him, and also have a showcase of all their powers to pad out the book some more. Eventually, they decide to call in Sorceror Binky to examine the problem. When he has a go of it, a sudden tornado emerges from the cauldron and whisks away Pet Force--save for Garzooka, whose prodigious strength keeps him anchored.
Garzooka heads out in the Lightspeed Lasagna to track Pet Force's signature, glad to get away from a double trouble Jon. And while he's searching, the scene cuts to Vetvix's Floating Fortress of Fear. Hey, one of her bases actually lasted more than one book! This is where Pet Force has been transported to, once more in a power-proof cell. Vetvix monologues to the heroes, as she is wont to do, explaining that she's the one who cast the spell to keep them from returning home. And further, she's brought them here to mutate them into her servants.
While Emperor Jon exposits about his backstory (turns out he is not of royal blood, and has about as much legitimate claim to the throne as you or I do), the search continues. Sorceror Binky detects Pet Force, giving them all a view of what happens next. The trapped members of Pet Force are literally broken apart and reassembled: Odious' body, Compooky's brain inserted into the chest, Abnermal's hands, and Starlena's head. She christens this beast "Mutanator", and it is soullessly obedient. I also wanna say, Mutanator's kind of a non-binary icon, aren't they? (The comic uses "it", but it was 1998 and alternative pronouns weren't really a thing yet.) Muscular, masculine body, but confident enough to still wear lipstick. It's a look, is all I'm saying~
Mutanator continues to possess the combined powers of Pet Force as well. Vetvix sends them to attack the planet Armory to gear up before attempting to conquer Polyester. And meanwhile, thanks to the convenience of being able to scan all of Compooky's memories now that his brain is part of Mutanator, Vetvix has the perfect trap to spring on Garzooka--or should she say Garfield. Yes, she really knows the whole origin for Pet Force now, and now she knows all Garfield's weaknesses, likes and dislikes, and probably blood type and other dating profile stats~
Thus, when Garzooka receives the coordinates from Emperor Jon and arrives at the Floating Fortress, he finds himself menaced by giant spiders. Vetvix couldn't think of a way to get Mondays to attack him, so the Giant Spider Invasion will do. Spiders are apparently very formiddable foes, Garzooka's personal fears aside. They can swat gamma hairballs out of the air, they can construct webs as quickly as certain Marvel heroes, and their hairy exoskeletons are resistant to both claw and strength. But despite his fear and Abnermal's running commentary, Garzooka manages to trounce the spiders with a carefully applied flame--taking Vetvix's blueprints with them.
Garzooka heads out once again to track down the Mutanator, leaving his less-than-all-together friends in the safety of their forcefield prison. While he's off, we return to the perspective of his target. Using their combined powers, the Mutanator swiftly conquers the planet Armory and sets their sights on Polyester next. It's not a bad plan, honestly. With the stockpile from Armory, not only will the Mutanator be more powerful, Polyester won't be able to use the planet for backup. Fortunately for the two Jons, though, Garzooka intercepts the Mutanator before they can leave Armory.
The fight's actually pretty good. Very back and forth. But even despite Garzooka's great strength, the Mutanator wins in the end. Thankfully, Vetvix puts her conquest of Polyester on hold to take the time to retrieve Garzooka and add his power to the Mutanator. This, of course will be her undoing--in a completely ridiculous way, of course. For back in the palace, our universe's Jon is watching Pet Force's struggles with the scrying cauldron. And he leans in a bit too close. Sowhile Vetvix is prepping the machine to divide Garzooka's body like she did the rest of Pet Force, Jon suddenly tumbles through the dimensional warp caused by the cauldron and lands on Vetvix, which causes her to put the machine in reverse. A real Jonnus ex cauldrona there, eh?
The Mutanator disappears, their existance as a unique being wiped out as their pieces return to their proper Pet Force owners. With Pet Force reassembled, Garzooka takes out Vetvix with one of his gamma-radiated hairballs while she's distracted by Jon. Pet Force decides that the vile veternarian should have a taste of her own medicine, and stick her in the body-splicing machine with some of her guards. This divides them all up and mixes them into bizarre combinations. It also has the side effect of disabling Vetvix's magic, so they can return to their own universe now.
The book wraps up here. Pet Force first returns to Armory to both return the stolen weapons and also make repairs on the buildings that were damaged in Garzooka's fight with the Mutanator. That's the sort of thing I'd like to see in more superhero stories in general. The two Jons part ways, with the Emperor believing the other Jon's heroism to have been deliberate. And thus are Garfield and friends returned home. And just like the end of their first adventure, where Garfield couldn't be sure if it really happened, so too is Jon's memory fading. Had he really witnessed all that? Only his pets know for sure--and in this universe, they can't talk~
Book 5: Attack of the Lethal Lizards
This one's another wrap-around, showing the rest of Pet Force engaging the remaining Lethal Lizards on the back cover. This is one advantage books have over comics: a front and back cover you can use for your story-telling. The Lizard designs are pretty good for a villain group too. Like Pet Force, they don't adhere to a particular theme, but they do look good individually. Garzooka roasting a hot dog on a stick might be a bit too comedic for a superhero story, though. It sets the tone wrong. How "lethal" can they possibly be if Garzooka is out here roasting hot dogs in the middle of battle?
So here we go, last book. After the usual recap, we open with Jon explaining to Garfield and friends his latest plans: they're going to WackyWorld, a theme park dedicated to Jon's favourite cartoon, The Wackies. Both Garfield and Nermal think the show is lame, and if those two agree on something, you know it must be so. In less lame universes, however, trouble is once more a-brewing. So it turns out Vetvix's Floating Fortress of Fear has been orbiting the swamp planet Reptilius this whole time. And her various experiments in the last two books have been radiating the planet in magical energy...
From that magical power, three reptiles find themselves uplifted in intelligence and granted fantastic powers. Please say hello to our three main villains for this book: Snake, an enormous snake (the only one without an anthro design) with stretching powers; Chameleon, who can shapeshift; and Dragon, a komodo dragon with fire breath and the bad attitude to match. While Snake and Chameleon figure out their powers, Dragon declares himself the leader as he's clearly the smartest, strongest, and most powerful. They name themselves the Lethal Lizards and start plotting how to rule the planet.
After that exciting intro, though, the book kind of slows down. First we get a whole chapter of Emperor Jon also deciding to go on vacation, to planet Funlandia. With Vetvix out of commission for a while, there's no better time. In short, he's out of the castle and Sorceror Binky is in charge. This is followed by a chapter of Jon and his pets at WackyWorld. It's certainly an accommodating amusement park to allow pets on its grounds. Garfield at least gets along with the food, but if you know anything about amusement park food prices, the amount Garfield eats will make your wallet weep. Jon takes his mind off it by dragging the pets along to a ride. Surely they have to be under the height restriction~
Fortunately, we get back to the actual stars of this book, and we see a bit more of their dynamic. Snake is the sort who sucks up to whoever's calling themselves "Boss" at the moment. Dragon is power-hungry, and it's clear he'll sell out his allies at the drop of a hat. Chameleon is Starscream. Anyway, they trek through the jungles of Reptilius until they find a downed spaceship. Reviewing the logs reveals it was a scout ship from Vetvix, and they also learn of Vetvix and her mission. However, they don't know where Emperor Jon lives, so they crowd into the the newly christened Rapacious Reptile and set course for the stars.
The first planet they come across is a world called Klod. Quickly the Lethal Lizards beat up the populace and find the local government. Chameleon shapeshifts into a dignitary, pretending to be an advance entourage for Emperor Jon, schmoozing with the governor until he learns both what Jon looks like and the name of his planet. With this information secure, Chameleon nips out suddenly, and the trio sets forth towards Polyester. Governer Klutz calls up the palace as soon as the reptiles depart, and reports the incident to Sorceror Binky.
Binky wastes no time, and he dials up Pet Force. Since all five are in one place, he's able to pull them through even without them being near the gateway through issue #100's cover. Convenient! Pet Force, however, does waste time, as a lengthy comedy scene eats up several pages before we just get on with it. Eventually, the situation is conveyed, and they figure it's safer to keep Emperor Jon on Funlandia for the time being. Compooky stays behind to help plan some strategies, while the rest of Pet Force boards the Lightspeed Lasagna to intercept the Lethal Lizards before they even arrive.
Pet Force spends the next few minutes both scanning for incoming ships and bickering with each other, so I'm very glad when the Rapacious Reptile appears on their detectors before too long. Dragon threatens the ship, telling them to move or he'll knock them aside. It's a spaceship, dude, you can move in three dimensions. The ships trade shots, and while Chameleon's piloting is actually pretty good due to his independently-rotating eyeballs, eventually both ships crash land on whatever planet is nearby.
Both ships crash right next to each other, which is improbable but less ridiculous than some of the contrivances in these books, so I'm okay with it. Now you'd think what with the enemies being reptiles and Abnermal having freezing powers that this battle would be over really easily, but no. In fact, Garzooka and Dragon are pretty evenly matched. Snake turns out to be immune to Starlena's siren song because snakes don't have external ears. See, now there's a contrivance I find a bit weird. Snake swallows Abnermal whole, and Chameleon and Odious get literally tongue-tied. The Lethal Lizards actually live up to their name pretty well.
As the fight continues, half of both sides are laid out when Compooky comes rushing up, saying he has an urgent message from the emperor. And that's when he sucker-punches the team. It was actually Chameleon in disguise, having gotten knocked away when he and Odious separated. So yeah, round one goes to the Lizards, and they make their escape first. Pet Force regroups, and they give chase. The Lizards have enough head start to really lay siege to Polyester before Pet Force arrives, though. They even get access to the palace using Chameleon's shapeshifting, leading to Sorceror Binky letting slip the real location of the emperor just as Pet Force arrives.
Another fight ensues--see, now it's really a superhero story--and the Lizards leave again 2 and 0. This time Snake uses his venomous fangs to attack Starlena. This leads to the weirdest contrivance yet. Maybe not the worst, but definitely the weirdest. They have only minutes to save Starlena. So how do they do it? Well, they notice that Odious drools quite a lot. It's very "fluid output". So they have Binky magically reverse Odious' drooling, so that he has "fluid input" on his tongue instead. It becomes a big suction sponge and sucks the poison out of Starlena. They then restore the drooling, and he just harmlessly drools out the poison. What.
With their teammate saved, Pet Force pursues the Lethal Lizards to Funlandia. They get there just in time to rescue Emperor Jon from their clutches, with Garzooka and Odious combining their strength to literally rip a kiddie ride out of the ground. Starlena corners Chameleon in a hall of mirrors, turning his own trick against him. Snake is undone by Odious' strength. And Garzooka fights Dragon to a standstill, finally trapping all three on a roller coaster still operating. When the ride comes to an end, Abnermal freezes them all until the authorities can retrieve them.
Naturally, Emperor Jon thinks it's all part of the show (because Jon is dimwitted in any universe). The Lizards are sent to a lizard-proof prison (seriously, it specifies this), and Pet Force returns to their own universe. As usual, Jon didn't notice his pets go missing during the dark amusement park ride. The book concludes on an ominous note, however, as the ship carrying the Lethal Lizards makes its jump to lightspeed just as it passes the Floating Fortress of Fear. The shockwave knocks over some debris that reactivates the combining machine, restoring Vetvix to her full evil might once more!
The end!
No, really. Those five books are all there was. I hear it may have continued into the comics, but I don’t know how accurate that is. I didn’t really look into it.
But boy, what a ride, huh? Let’s dissect the books one at a time, since it only seems fair to take them as individual stories.
The Outrageous Origin: It’s a fairly basic origin story, I’d say. It kind of has to be. I guess my main gripe is that, like Rita Repulsa’s entire run on Power Rangers, the heroes never fight the main villain directly. In fact, there’s barely even an evil plot in this one. You have henchmen and some traps, and that’s about it for the menace.
Pie-Rat’s Revenge: A cautionary tale about why you treat your minions with respect. This one’s pretty good, but the events depicted on the cover make up such a small part of the book. Wouldn’t it have been more fun if Garzooka was turned at the beginning of the story? Book 4 would at least do the reverse of that, so it’s not a major complaint~
K-Niner, Dog of Doom: I think this one’s about as middle of the road as you can get. What a coincidence that it’s also the middle of the series! Like I said in the recap portion, it’s a shame that Pie-Rat’s story ended here. This one definitely feels more “villain of the week” than most.
Menace of the Mutanator: This one might be the best book in the series. Garzooka, alone, battling against the best parts of his team? That’s gripping stuff. I guess the main problem is that the Mutanator isn’t really a character in and of themselves. Like, K-Niner, he may have been a generic rent-a-villain type, but he had a personality. Mutanator is little more than an extention of Vetvix’s will.
Attack of the Lethal Lizards: I’m a bit split on this one. The bits with the titular Lizards are great. They steal the show! But the parts where it focuses on either Jon kind of drag, and Pet Force is a bit too jokey here. Like, I get the point is that they’ve relaxed into their roles now, and there’s not much point of doing it as a Garfield story if they don’t actually use the character personalities, but... I dunno. It’s good, but it could have been better~
And that’s it! Like, I dunno how to wrap this up. Pet Force was neither my first exposure to superheroes nor my first introduction to the Garfield brand (you can thank Saturday morning cartoons for both of those). But for some reason, maybe just the absurdly goofy premise, it always kinda stuck with me. And I think that’s a good enough reason to make it my 10th anniversary review, don’t you~?
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Life Lessons
Summary: “There are times when it will be required for you to work with your fellow Time Masters to complete your mission.” Rip's first experience of working in a team does not go well.
Author’s Note: Day 4: “One person acting alone can’t save the world.” – This is all about the team and Rip’s relationship to it, maybe it’s the one Rip built, but it could be an entirely different one, or just the people he’s met along the way.
*********************************************
It had been a long day, and the two-hour lecture Time Master Keegan was giving on the history of fabrics used during the Victorian era seemed endless. Rip squirmed, it felt like his back had been fused to his chair and could see Andreas beside him looking just as uncomfortable.
“Any questions?” Keegan asked suddenly, turning the lights up making them all blink.
No one raised a hand, and they were all poised to leave the lecture theatre when Time Master Hadden walked in.
“Stay in your seats,” she ordered sharply.
The entire class grimaced but remained seated waiting as Hadden and Keegan spoke for a few moments.
“Time Masters work alone,” Hadden stated as she stood in front of them, “But there are times when it will be required for you to work with your fellow Time Masters to complete your mission. You will be placed in teams for a training mission tomorrow, your teams will be released later this evening and you must all be ready to leave first thing. Dismissed.”
Finally released Rip grabbed his tablet and started towards his room. He wanted to do some work on his project before the evening meal, as afterwards he had time booked in the flight simulator.
“So,” Coburn appeared at his side as he left the lecture theatre, “What do you think about tomorrow’s sudden training mission?”
Rip grimaced as she looked at him with big brown eyes filled with amusement and stated coolly, “I think it’s a chance for us to all show what we’ve learned.”
She chuckled, “Wouldn’t it be fun if we were on the same team?”
“Not really,” Rip replied without thinking.
“Hunter, I’m hurt,” Coburn laughed.
Rip sighed and turned to face her, “You never listen, you’re constantly ignoring the rules and I don’t trust you’d work with the rest of the group.”
She stared at him for a moment before she laughed, “You say the sweetest things.” With a smile she gave him a pat on the shoulder, “See you later.”
Confused and irritated, as was the norm when he had a conversation with Cadet Coburn, Rip headed to his room.
The room he had within the Time Master Academy was starkly different from the one he’d had at the Refuge and there were days he missed being there deeply. But, as Time Master Druce reminded him the day he’d arrived at the academy, not to mention every time Rip saw him before that day, Rip had been chosen for a higher purpose which meant he had to leave the safety of his childhood, and Mother, in order to fulfil that purpose.
Connecting his tablet to the main console to download all the work from the day, he changed out of his uniform before sitting at his desk and opened the message he kept easily accessible.
“Michael,” his mother said appearing on the screen before him, “I cannot tell you how proud I am of you. When you first came to me, that little boy who was wild and kept trying to run away, I always knew that one day I would have to say goodbye. I know that you are on your path to become a Time Master and I know that you will do wonderful things. I don’t get to see my children after they leave and I know that is for the best, but I want you to always remember that I am extremely proud of you, Michael.”
Freezing the picture to look at the woman who had taken him in and loved him, Rip wondered if any of the others missed their childhood homes and the mothers or fathers who had raised them.
Or if he was just broken because he did.
The door chime interrupted his musings and he quickly turned off the message before opening the door.
“Time Master Druce,” he snapped to attention.
Druce gave him a smile, “There is no need for that, Rip. This is not an official inspection.”
Stepping back Rip allowed his mentor into the room, “What can I do for you, sir?”
“Regarding tomorrow’s exercise.” Druce told him, “I want to remind you that I have high expectations. This exercise is very important for your future as a Time Master. Do you understand, Rip?”
Nodding Rip replied softly, “Yes sir.”
Standing Druce nodded, “Don’t let me down,” before he walked out leaving Rip alone again.
As his mentor left, Rip let out a sigh. He wanted to live up to Druce’s expectations, the man had saved his life and brought him to a place where he could be something so much more than the street trash he had once been. Druce had given him a mother who loved him and taught him that he was so much more than he’d ever thought he could be.
Rip couldn’t let him down.
Checking the time, Rip headed to the dining room to have his evening meal.
The dining room was full when Rip stepped inside, he chose his meal and drink before looking for a place to sit. To his annoyance Coburn was sitting at the closest table and looked up, waving him over. As there was little other choice for sitting, Marcus or Cannon appeared to be the only others with a space beside them, Rip went with the lesser of the evils.
“The team lists are out,” Coburn smirked at him the moment he sat at her side, “And guess what?”
Glancing at the courier on his wrist, he saw the message and sighed when he scanned the list.
“We’re on the same team,” Rip grimaced.
Coburn smiled, “We work well together, Hunter you know that.”
Rip grimaced, annoyed because she wasn’t wrong. The last time they’d had to work together they received the highest marks within the class, but Rip found she distracted him constantly. When she twirled her glossy raven hair around her fingers, the way her deep brown eyes sparkled when she hit on an answer and the way her soft pink lips quirked in amused smiles that she threw at him, Rip watched unable to tear his eyes from her.
The weight of Druce’s expectations made it worse, he knew he couldn’t be distracted by her during the mission and Rip couldn’t ask to change teams, or he would have to explain why.
He couldn’t tell them the reason because he wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
Doing his best to ignore her, Rip ate his meal looking forward to getting to spend some time in the flight simulator.
Rip loved to fly.
Even in the simulator he had the feeling of freedom he’d craved from childhood and looked forward to the day he had his own ship.
“You know at this angle you’ll probably get caught in the atmosphere,” Coburn’s amused voice made Rip grimace.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded, “I have this time booked.”
She slid into the seat at his side and shrugged.
“Then go away,” he snapped at her trying to focus again.
Coburn chuckled, “Why are you like this?”
“Like what?” he demanded confused.
“Wound so tight,” Coburn clarified, “We’re learning to travel in time, Hunter. To save people and the timeline. It’s an amazing thing but you’re always so serious. Do you ever have fun?”
Rip shifted uncomfortably in his seat at her demand, “When I was a child, of course. But we’re adults now and being a Time Master is not something to be taken lightly. It’s a serious duty we’ve been given, it’s not fun.”
She moved closer to him, and Rip was caught by her eyes, deep brown pools that were filled with amusement and something else.
“We’re not robots,” Coburn whispered softly, making Rip’s eyes drop briefly to her soft pink lips, “We’re allowed to have some fun every so often.”
Before Rip could retort she touched her lips to his in a soft kiss. Stunned Rip froze for a moment before closing his eyes and leaning into it, his hand moving to cup her cheek. Realising what they were doing, Rip pulled back finding Coburn smiling at him with sparkling eyes.
“Definitely not a robot,” she whispered, “I’ll see you in the morning, Rip.”
*********************************************
By the time his alarm sounded, Rip had already been up for over an hour. He ran around the track several times before grabbing a quick breakfast and was one of the first standing ready at the muster point.
His team consisted of himself, Coburn, Radley, and Johns. Rip didn’t know Radley or Johns well and would have preferred people whose abilities he knew to work with, but he also knew he had no choice.
“Good morning,” Time Master Hadden appeared at the front of the room, “You have all been assigned your teams and your missions have been sent to your couriers. Each team will be timed on how long it takes for you to complete your mission in addition to how well you work together as a team.”
Rip scanned the mission parameters as they waited their turn, doing his best to ignore Coburn at his side. His night had been filled with dreams of her and what had happened in the simulator, it was one of the reasons he’d been up so early.
“Team six,” Hadden called to them, “Follow me.”
Rip walked with his team to a Jump Ship that was waiting for them.
“Cadet Hunter,” Hadden said, “You are the best pilot of the group, so you will fly the ship to the co-ordinates given. Once there the ship will power off, you must complete your mission by ensuring the package in the hold reaches the final co-ordinates where you will be met and returned to the Academy for your grade.”
With that said she left.
Rip slid into the pilot’s seat and activated the systems, “Everyone strap in.”
He frowned slightly when Coburn took the seat beside him but said nothing. Checking the coordinates, he activated the engines and took them into the time stream. A few seconds into their journey, an alarm began to sound.
“What’s wrong?” Johns demanded.
“The ship isn’t responding,” Rip frowned, as he tried to get the system back online.
Coburn unhooked herself and ran to the engine access, yanking open the panel, “We’re in trouble.”
“What’s wrong?” Rip yelled back.
“It’s shutting down early,” Coburn replied as she tried to fix then engines or at least keep them going until they reached their coordinates.
Rip grimaced, “Bollocks, can you do a bypass?”
“While we’re in flight,” Randel cried in horror, “A bypass is only done when the ship is stationary.”
“Well, we’ll be stationary when we crash,” Rip retorted before demanding, “Coburn, can you do it?”
“Give me two seconds,” she replied before calling, “Done.”
Hang on,” Rip yelled as he managed to activate the engines for a few seconds so he could get them out the time stream, the entire ship shuddered but exited and Rip let out a small sigh relieved that he brought them out at the right place. Unfortunately, the main engine began to fail as Rip started them down to land. Fighting with the controls, Rip did his best to keep them level as they headed towards the ground.
“We’re going to crash,” he yelled, “Hold on.”
A second later the ground rushed into the ship, they bounced three times before skidding to a halt.
Rip groaned as he undid the restraint, falling onto the console in front of him. His ribs felt bruised, but he was sure they weren’t broken and although he was a little shaken Rip knew he wasn’t injured.
“Is everyone alright?” Rip called.
“Fine,” Randel and Johns replied.
One voice was missing, and Rip yelled, “Coburn?”
“I have a slight problem,” she replied, pain filling her voice.
Rip turned and swore seeing her laying on the floor, a piece of metal stuck into her side and blood pouring from the wound. Reaching for the medical kit, Rip swore again to discover it was missing. Yanking off his jacket, Rip dropped onto the ground beside Coburn and pressing it against the wound to try to stem the flow of blood.
“Where are we?” Randal asked dazed.
“We’re on the right planet,” Johns reported checking the instruments, “But miles away from the rendezvous point.”
Rip grimaced knowing that meant they were a long way from help, but if they packed the wound and made a stretcher then they could carry her to safety.
“Our cargo is intact,” Randel noted from the back, “But it is big.”
Rip leaned back to glance at what Randel had found, keeping pressure on Coburn’s wounds at the same time and winced. They couldn’t carry both her and their cargo.
“Leave it,” Rip told them, “We put together a stretcher for Coburn and get her to safety, then we can come back for it.”
Randel and Johns stared at him before Randel said, “No.”
Rip frowned at him, “We can’t carry both. That thing would take two of us to carry it at the very least and we need two of us to carry Coburn.”
“Then we leave her,” Randel stated.
Anger filled Rip, “She could die without help.”
“We’ll send someone back for her,” Johns told him, “But we have to get this to the coordinates.”
Rip glared at them, “Then you’re doing it without me.”
“We’ll manage,” Randel told him, “Once we reach the coordinates then we’ll send someone back for you.”
“They’re right,” Coburn murmured, “You should complete the mission and send help back to me.”
Rip shook his head, “No, I’m staying with you.”
Randel and Johns shrugged before they lifted their cargo, leaving Rip alone with their injured teammate.
“You should have gone with them,” Coburn said softly while Rip checked the ship for emergency rations.
Rip frowned at her, “And leave you here to die?”
“I’d be fine until you sent someone for me,” she said, letting out a grunt of pain when she moved slightly.
“Stay still,” Rip snapped at her, “I’ve managed to stop the bleeding for now but if you move it could start again.”
She closed her eyes for a moment before smiling, “I knew you liked me.”
Sitting at her side, Rip gently placed the canteen he’d found to her lips, tipping it so she could drink.
“You’re delusional,” Rip shook his head.
Coburn chuckled again, “Was what happened last night a delusion?”
Rip dropped his eyes feeling warmth cover his neck.
“Hey,” she took his hand, “Rip, it’s okay to care what happens to me. And I’m grateful you stayed.”
Looking down at their adjoined hands, Rip smiled softly, “You can thank me by annoying me less.”
“Where would the fun be in that?” she chuckled.
“Coburn,” he sighed, frowning when she jerked his hand, “What?”
“You know my name, Rip,” she whispered.
Licking his lips, Rip said softly, “Miranda.”
“That wasn’t so hard,” Miranda smiled at him, “Was it?”
He shrugged and shook his head.
“I guess we’re working as a team,” Miranda noted amused.
Rip nodded, “We just have to hope the others make it to the coordinates fast.”
Miranda nodded, and he noticed that she was beginning to shiver. Since there was no emergency kit, there were no blankets he could use to keep her warm, and his jacket was being used to stop the bleeding, Rip wrapped his arm around her and hugged her close.
She cuddled into his shoulder murmuring, “You make a good pillow, Rip.”
Rip smiled, “I’ll add it to my list of skills.”
Miranda slipped into silence and Rip held her while they waited for help, relieved when the rescue team finally arrived.
*********************************************
Rip left the medical bay and as ordered, headed directly to Druce’s study. Taking a deep breath, he hit the chime and waited.
Time passed and finally after twenty minutes the door opened. Rip walked in seeing his mentor sitting looking distinctly unhappy.
“Cadet Hunter,” Druce stated, letting him know that this was an official meeting, “Your performance for today’s test has been evaluated and you have failed.”
“What?” Rip demanded surprised, slamming his mouth shut when Druce stood.
“You did not complete the mission you were given,” Druce reminded him, “And therefore did not pass the test.”
Rip stared at him, “But Cadet Coburn was badly injured? And the test was in regards to working as a team?”
Druce shook his head, “What is the one thing I have always told you? What have I impressed on you since day one?” When Rip hesitated, Druce finished, “Time Masters always complete their mission no matter what.”
“She could have died,” Rip whispered.
Druce shook his head, “It doesn’t matter. People die. Time Masters protect time above everything, and your mission must always be your priority.”
Rip stood in silence, not sure what to say.
“You’re dismissed, Rip,” Druce stated sharply before adding, “I am extremely disappointed in you, and I hope you have learned your lesson from this.”
Rip nodded, “I have.”
Druce motioned him to leave and as Rip walked out Druce stated, “I never want to be disappointed by you like this ever again, Rip. Ensure I’m not.”
The doors closed before Rip could reply and he headed back to his room feeling utterly demoralised.
The chime on his door jolted Rip from his musing.
He had been sitting on his bed thinking, Mother would call it sulking, for several hours now. Even missing the evening meal because he didn’t want to face the rest of the class.
“It’s me,” Miranda’s voice came through the door, “Can I come in?”
With a sigh he hit the button to open the door before taking his seat again, Miranda walked in, and the door closed behind her. He quickly checked her over to make sure that she was healed, relieved to see she seemed fine.
“Can I..” she motioned to the spot on the bed beside him.
Rip sighed, “If you want.”
Miranda slid onto the bed, “I heard that you failed. Sorry.”
Rip sighed before realising, “Sorry you did too.”
“Actually,” she winced, “Because I told you to leave me, I passed.”
Rip laughed bitterly, “Of course you did.”
They sat in silence for several minutes, Rip was wondering why she was still there, surprised when Miranda slipped her hand into his.
“Thank you for staying with me,” Miranda whispered, “I was terrified.”
Turning to her, Rip asked, “Really?”
“Oh, I would never let anyone else know that,” Miranda told him, “But…” she paused and squeezed his hand, “I trust you.”
Swallowing hard at how close she was to him, Rip breathed, “I trust you too.”
Miranda rested her forehead against his, Rip lost himself in her deep brown eyes and found himself moving closer. Without thought, Rip rested his hand on her cheek as their lips met. Rip felt Miranda smile against his lips and wrapped his arms around her pulling her close, not caring about anything else for now as they fell back onto his bed lost in one another.
#fic#ripfic#legends of tomorrow#Rip Week 2021#Rip Week#Rip Hunter#Miranda Coburn#Zaman Druce#Time Masters
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Hello luv. I just came across your blog and I was wondering if you could do a one shot or headcannon for crocodile? Maybe something along the lines of someone kidnapping his wife or something. Feel free to make it as angsty as you want. Thank you and have a great day.
Ahhhh I actually had to do a double-take at who sent this because guess what? I’m actually a fan of yours lmao. Not too long ago I read your All Might Omegaverse story on ao3 and it was soooo good omg. Anyway, you asked for angst? I hope I delivered! I did a one-shot but it was on the shorter side so I also did bonus headcanons! Hope you enjoy it Lovely and stay safe out there!
Sir Crocodile x Wife!Reader
Warnings: Angst, so much angst, mentions of violence and injuries, I made the ending neutral meaning it can be bad or good depending on how you feel :’) The bonus headcanons may help ease any heartache
Words: 1650
Crocodile stares down at the piece of paper with that everlasting scowl on his face. The words on it fill him with rage but his eyes remain emotionless. The question now, is how should he go about this? Slowly, his hands twitch alongside the piece of paper before his eyes flicker up to Nico Robin.
“Well… What are your thoughts on this sudden problem, Miss All Sunday?” He questions.
Robin merely smiles at his tone. He is angry, very angry, and she for one knows better to keep any information on this subject to him. She speaks in a calculating tone, “Whoever sent this has been tracking you for a long time if they know you are in Alabasta. However, they do know that you are respected across the country but did not know of your ties to Baroque Works. That can only mean that they know you from your past if they followed your name here. They must have known her too if they were able to capture her so easily-“
“Do watch your choice of words when speaking about my wife. (Name), could not have been captured easily even if she did know her kidnapper. She would have put up a fight,” Crocodile growls out momentarily losing his cool.
Robin only hums before she continues. “It says a time, a date, and a number. There is no location. They may be sending another note soon then. I expect that to be when they wish to meet with you and money. Mr. 0 I advise you to be careful. If they are from the past and still holding a grudge who knows what has happened to her. You even went the whole mile to make sure she was a safe distance. Their anger probably holds no bounds so prepare for the wor-“
“You are dismissed,” Crocodile cuts her off.
He can’t even bear the thought of her saying prepare for the worst. Robin leaves immediately and he is stuck in his dark office observing the stupid paper that holds his precious wife’s fate. Your fate.
Crocodile will not admit it with his organization- But you are truly his whole heart. You are one of the reasons why he has not completely fallen and why he has made sure you were so far away from him, actually at a home where you can be happy and hopefully soon be a mother with his kids, and not on the run with a Warlord like him. He thought you would be safe without the target on his back from the enemies he has made over the years but this proves not to be true and now he realizes that your true place is really by his side where he can protect you in a moment’s notice.
He will be damned if anything happens to you.
~*~
You do not know how much longer you can hold out for. It feels like it has been years since this group of pathetic pirates seeking revenge took you from your home and lit your home on fire. All because they wanted to see Crocodile in pain. The note they sent with your handwriting on it as proof they have you was a lie.
They made you write the time, date, and a money amount after making you write how you have been kidnapped by these people. How they are just looking for money Crocodile owes them for once taking out their entire ship and ruining their dreams. It truly was pathetic because they plan on having you half-dead by the time the date is supposed to be here.
You have a feeling it is soon from how weak you are. They have starved you, dehydrated you, watched you bleed, painted your skin black and blue, all for the sake of seeing Crocodile upset. You have been married to the man since he was a rookie, so you know they are doing this in vain.
He will never give them emotion even if he is painfully feeling it. They will see the satisfaction of him being hurt but with your observant eyes and knowing his true self you will see it painfully clear.
“Oi, have a little bit more fun with her will ya? I’m going to send the location- Be prepared to move her when I get back,” The boss of the whole kidnapping states.
One of the burlier men started to make his way back to you and you wish desperately that you can beg or plea with them but… It did not work the first time and it only made the men angrier. His large hand comes across your face and the numbing you had felt a bit ago is gone. The pain is so much from the previous beating that you can’t help but to cry out.
They enjoy that and as the boss leaves- You fear that your time may be running out.
~*~
Crocodile sighs as he finally gets to the location- Some abandoned building in Alabasta, near Rainbase. Your kidnappers really did want to get him that they hid right under his nose. He does not knock. He uses his Devil Fruit powers to enter the building and reform himself. Immediately, shots are fired but as always, they do not faze him.
“Still same tough boy, aren’t you?” The leader questions with a laugh.
With a bored expression, Crocodile glances around the room only for his eyes to fall on your unmoving form. It looks like you are barely breathing. The blood tainting your skill is enough to put him in a murderous rage, but he holds off.
The men standing idly are waiting for his expression to change but when it remains the same, they begin to sweat out of slight anxiety.
“In the note, it said she would be fine, but it appears she is dying. Not that it bothers me, if she truly let herself get kidnapped by you lot then her life was not worth much anyway. I will be disposing of the lot of you for wasting my time. In your next life make sure whatever you have hostage actually has meaning,” Crocodile states in monotone.
There is no mercy as he has the floor made of sand beneath them open and up and swallow them. This truly was a waste of time for him and his anger grows as he makes his way over to your form. Your eyes are trying to stay open and he kneels down beside you to pull you onto his lap.
You recognize the anger in his eyes but ignore it as you give him a weak smile. Your hand comes up to cup his face and he immediately leans into it, the warmth for you, showing in his eyes now that he can let his guard down.
“I am pathetic, aren’t I? Getting kidnapped by these idiots. I am sorry to make you worry so much,” You say in between wheezes.
Crocodile adjusts him and you so he can help you sit up and hopefully breathe better. If you are wheezing in a pile of your own blood- It just is not a good sign at all. He can see how fatigued you are, and he hates it for not finding you sooner.
“You aren’t pathetic. These lowly scumbags were. I commend you for staying alive for what they did to you and when you recover, I will lavish you with the attention you deserve. I will never let you out of my sight again,” He promises.
Your hand has trouble sliding up his face to mess up his gelled back hair, but you did it with struggle. You mumble, “Dear, I believe you me if, not when. I am not feeling too hot right now.”
“Really? I think you look divine as always. Enough talk. Save your strength. I will have my associate, Miss All Sunday help us go to a private clinic so they can work on you,” Crocodile states.
In his mind, there is no possibility of you dying so you no longer try to tell him how you are slowly fading away. Nico Robin as she enters the room, for once, does not have the heart to say anything witty as she sees an innocent woman slowly perishing all while her husband is denial. If luck is on their side, you will survive but- When has a man who lost his hand and with ever-growing arrogance ever have luck?
For your sake, Robin is hoping that you are his good luck charm.
Bonus Headcanons:
Okay so yeah, much like in the one-shot if Crocodile had a wife who was kidnapped- He would be boiling with anger
He would look all calm at first but the moment he saw the damage he would murder everyone on sight for daring to hurt his precious person
He would be more caring if he wasn’t y’know trying to take over Alabasta for the weapon but since he is in this one-shot that is why he tries so hard to pretend he does not care
He totally would go ballistic
He is possessive and he hates the idea of someone else touching his wife
For the sake of the one-shot, I had his wife away but as I said in the prior point he is possessive so he would definitely have eyes on his wife all the time- She is one of his only weaknesses so he would protect her at all costs
Here is a fluff idea! He would love just giving his wife items of luxury- It just makes him happy knowing he can provide for her even if he is doing it with blood money since he is a bad guy
He would also remember every important date that has to do with him and his wife so he can lavish her on said dates
#my writing#crocodile x reader#sir crocodile#one piece x reader#one piece#fanfiction#one shot#headcanons#one piece fanfiction#one piece oneshot#one piece headcanons#angst#female reader#one piece crocodile
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Incandesce
Explicit Fic
Thancred x Nerys (WoL) x Emet-Selch / Thancred x Nerys / Emet-Selch x Nerys / Some Thancred x Emet-Selch
When Nerys made the mistake of telling Emet-Selch to surprise her, this is not what she had in mind.
Even more astonishing: that Thancred is interested.
(A lot of other ships mentioned/discussed, primarily Nerys x Haurchefant and Nerys x Estinien x Aymeric)
Shadowbringers Spoilers
[From This Prompt List]
Prompts Used: Hot Springs in Winter / Restraints / Double Penetration
Other Tags: Minor Breathplay in the water, Shaping Aether into Extra Hands, Brief Food Mention
Meta Notes:
This is currently not-canon in the general, overarching sense, but everything that happens prior to Nerys entering the hot springs is canon.
Prelude
Beneath the thickest canopy of trees, Nerys can ignore the great and terrible light above. Pretend she is in the Shroud again. There are Duskwight waiting among the Night’s Blessed for her to return with supplies and reports. Never mind that it’s a name they don’t recognize. The elves of the First separate themselves by region and family, not clan.
Many of Night’s Blessed look like the faces she grew up with. It has...been a long time since she was with such a group. Visiting her parents and Uncle Vaquelin had been lovely, but brief. And that was so long ago now. Before Doma, before Gyr Abania, before Minfilia came here with Ardbert and his companions.
The memory of that long-ago visit conjures Haurchefant, who she had brought with her. Her family loved him–how could they not? It makes her miss him all the more. Their too-brief, too-scarce meetings since her arrival are not enough.
She leaves the nostalgia and safety of the trees behind along with her brooding. People are expecting her. A truth no matter what world she lives on, whether they call her Warrior of Darkness or Light. Nerys is thankful this place doesn’t also remind her of Ishgard. Then the homesickness might turn her brooding into outright tears.
Now. Collecting reeds for the girl’s basket. They should be due south from here.
“Far be it from me to meddle…” Emet-Selch materializes beside her, as if picking up a prior conversation. “But my curiosity outweighs my desire to see where ‘the chips do fall’.”
Nerys turns her gaze toward him without breaking her stride. Last time he did this, she was picking berries and near fell over into the dirt. “Saying ‘far be it from me to meddle’ does not cancel out any subsequent meddling, you know.”
One corner of his mouth tilts up. “I expected my company to be polite enough not to mention it. More fool me.”
“What do I know about manners?” She cannot help herself. Maybe it is the pleased, attractive smirk whenever she says something diverting. Maybe she is tired of all the misfortune around them and needs levity. “I am but a simple warrior, a weapon of brute strength raised in the woods.”
“Self-deprecation does you no favors, my dear. Even when it is clear you know it’s all rubbish.” He waves a hand. “You are among the politest of my enemies.”
“Thank you?”
“Mm. I can be generous.” He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “Now, about my query. Tell me...which suitor do you think will win out?”
That almost makes her stumble. And she can tell from his expression, he is reliving when she almost fell upon her basket of berries. A rare mishap from her that he will never, ever let her forget. “I...beg your pardon?”
“No need to beg for it, this one is free,” says Emet. His tone is insinuating as ever on that point. “You clearly carry torches for both Masters Waters and Matoya. I get the impression he was your lover at one time? The outline I have of your activities before the Exarch summoned you does not include the gritty details. As for her, only the Hrothgar moons after her more than you do.”
Nerys opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. “You truly have been watching, haven’t you?”
“Oh not everything. Mortals are not so difficult to read, once you have practice. And your eyes…” He catches her chin, directing his gaze into hers. “They are terribly expressive, once you know what to look for.”
Emet-Selch wants a reaction. She puts her hands on her hips, lifting an eyebrow. Waiting for him to continue. As if his thumb isn’t stroking over her jaw, gentle as a lover. The touch as stirring as when he graces her with a particularly enticing smile.
“Now...” He does not need her permission to continue so she doesn’t give it. Clearly, this is a soliloquy he wants to perform. “I am not sure you know how many carry a torch for you, and I shan’t spoil it by telling you. But it does make things interesting. Not to mention, this Lord Haurchefant your group often mentions. Shall you abandon your noble suitor for a rogue posing as a knight? Or for a scholar of great and terrible power? Will one of the yet undeclared reveal themselves and win the hero’s heart?”
That heart thuds painfully against her chest. The way he shapes his syllables charges each provoking word. And the directness of those wine-gold eyes, a shade paler than her own but no less piercing for it.
He has gotten so much of it wrong. That does not negate how easily he has gotten so much of it right.
Nerys curls her fingers around his wrist and tugs his hand down. Emet-Selch does not resist, though when their hands are navel-level he twists just so, clasping her wrist in return, They remain locked thus, neither one letting go.
“Surely one as ancient as you, as easily bored as you,” she says. “Must know there are other options.”
“I don’t think a vow of chastity would suit you. Your eyes run too hot upon your comrades-”
“Lord Haurchefant,” she continues. “He is my lover and my beloved. Were I the marrying kind, his ring would be on my finger. That would not stop either of us from sharing physical and emotional intimacy with others.”
Emet-Selch says not a word, betrays no emotion. He does not veer into patronizing congratulations or arrogant dismissal. That same thumb begins to stroke again, over her gauntlet.
“There are others in the Source with such arrangements. I’m delighted to know it’s fairly common in the First.” Nerys cannot resist her smirk. Is this how he feels when he lectures her? “For some, it is about a variety of sexual partners. Sometimes it’s like that for us. More often...we are the kind to fall madly for someone or someones, in addition to wanting the physical parts. So whatever may happen...it is not a matter of winning.”
“Well,” he says, looking at her as if for the first time. Considering.
“Well,” he says again, with a slow smile. “You are full of surprises, my dear. I thank you for not being as boring as I expected.”
“Accuse me of many things, but never that.” Nerys takes a step back, breaking the link of their hands. “But I don’t think my expansive heart is my most unique quality.”
“On that, at least, we agree.” His enigmatic smile inflames just the right amount of curiosity in her. She resists best as she can. “Well, that puts to rest one of my little games. No reason to stay and help you...what is it again? Collecting reeds so a girl may make a basket?���
“Yes, that,” she says. “Would you like to join?”
“Oh, I am not so starved for stimulation to partake.” Purple and black aether swirls around his ankles. “Whistle for me, when you’re doing something actually worthy of a hero.”
“No need,” she says. “Somehow, I think you’ll know.”
He smirks as he disappears.
Weeks Later
"Alone at last."
In one motion: she slams the book shut, jumps up, has the knife pointed and ready. The sharp edge gleams in the lamplight, as bright as his gaze as he sighs at her.
"Really," says Emet-Selch. "I thought we were past this stage."
They were. They are. It doesn’t change that Eulmore is an ever looming spectre at their heels. That this pressure on her chest and shoulders is building. For their last few talks, Ardbert has made sure to catch her attention well before speaking.
She keeps thinking Ran’jit is about to appear and cut her down.
Nerys exhales a breath, blade staying poised for the moment. “Do you always startle trained warriors?"
“Only you, hero.” He touches the pad of his gloved finger against the dagger point. “This is not so beautiful a weapon as your lance."
"A lance is a little more difficult to keep close at all times." It is, in fact, leaning against the wall of her room. Just behind him. By the way his eyes flicker to the side and then to her, he knows it.
They are well past when she might run for it, and brandish it at him. The gaze feels so much like a challenge though, she contemplates it. He wouldn’t expect her to start a physical fight after weeks of banter.
Nerys withdraws the blade.
“It is a well-made little knife. A gift? I don't recall seeing it on you before."
"I always keep a dagger on me, one never knows when an ambush is coming." She slides it back in the sheath, touch lingering on the deep-plum leather of the hilt. "...But yes, this is new."
"I thought so. From Thancred no doubt, as he has been lavishing attention on you as of late." He steps away, spreading his arms. "He was the paramour I expected to win. At least until you explained that you don't limit yourself to just one."
His words conjure visceral memories without much effort. Her tender, still-aching reconciliation with Thancred at the start of this week. What they could have had in Ala Mhigo had the Exarch not spirited him away the day they meant to talk.
But also, the day in the Rak’tika Greatwood with Emet-Selch. His teasing about the choice she would “have” to make. Her defiant lecture. His fingers on her chin and on her wrist.
"Over Y'shtola, you mean?" She leans her back against the desk, arms crossed. "Or the other admirers you claim I have? Which are who, exactly?"
"Ah, ah, ah," he says with a wag of a finger. His pale gold eyes and wicked mouth brim with laughter. "You will have to try much harder than that to get my secrets."
“Does that mean you won’t explain what ‘alone at last’ means?”
"That one should be obvious, my dear." He remains apart from her but his gaze feel like a touch. Like a stroke of hand over her arm or cheek.
Attraction is like that. And she is adult enough to admit he is attractive–painfully so–without it needing to be a problem. It doesn’t change who they are or that one day, she may need to face him on the battlefield.
(Nerys had been able to face Estinien and Thancred both after all. Though unlike them, this man’s mind is his own. She is certain Zodiark’s pull is not the same as Lahabrea’s or Nidhogg’s.)
"I have been busy of late,” she says. “But surely there are others you might visit."
"None of your Scions will play with me the way you will," he pouts. "Even your scholarly Elezen friend will only suffer me so long."
Nerys laughs. "Who says I am willing to play with you? Or that is what we do?"
Emet-Selch’s expression reminds her of Aymeric’s cat, affronted over Nerys taking his spot upon the chaise lounge that one time. Unlike Sainte, he does not stomp away with a disgruntled noise. “I have never lied to you. Do me the favor of not lying to me.”
"Never?" She asks without real conviction. Nerys is certain he has not lied to her or anyone in their group. Omitted, yes. Likely a great deal.
“Never.” Emet-Selch crosses the space, moving close to her. The fur of his jacket brushes against the front of her gray linen gown. He leans in, leans in, his breath tickles her face and she tries not to give him the reaction he seeks.
He gets so close his lips graze her cheek and she breaks, breath hitching. And then he leans past her, reaching behind to take up the book she closed. "Collected Folk Tales of Lakeland. I admit, I expected something related to your quest."
His face is hidden but she feels his smirk as keenly as she feels the heat of his body against her. "I needed a little break and stories always cheer me. I wish the ones I heard as a child were collected somewhere."
"Ah, but they lose magic that way, don't they?" He breathes into her ear. "Some in the telling, but far more when we commit them to the page."
Don't shiver. Don't react. "Why not have the stories both ways?"
His chuckle is low. "Why not indeed. You do not like to make choices, do you?"
"It isn't that." Her arms remain folded against her chest. Still, if someone were to come in they would think something else was happening. And that would not be a full lie.
On impulse, her eyes flicker about to make sure Ardbert isn't there.
"Too many people reduce life to hard, either-or decisions," she says. "And I have found there is almost always a third or fourth or fifth way."
"An optimist. How very…" Emet-Selch pulls back to look at her. Sighs. "Very boring. I expected better, given all the pathos I have seen in your eyes."
"I'm sorry to disappoint." She turns towards the book, straightening her disrupted papers.
His hands come down on either side of her, balancing against the gentle curve of the desk edge. She is caged, with his breath upon her nape and his body a wall of flame grazing her back. Nerys has managed this session to not rise to his bait, but her resolve is weakening and this does not help.
Attraction does not have to mean anything. You have the will, to have it be a simple fact; not a catalyst or excuse.
"Come now,” he murmurs. His nose tickles the back of her neck. The skin there is extra sensitive; hair freshly trimmed to the new, shorter length. “You have a better retort than that."
"You think so? Maybe you're the optimist."
His laugh is a puff of air upon her. "Better, but still sloppy. I expect more from my playmate."
She wants to argue that point but he has already exposed her defense for the lie it is. Call it play or teasing, Nerys does enjoy these times. When she might pretend he is just a handsome man come only for banter; not...whatever they are to each other or will be.
She enjoys him.
Her eyes flicker to the window. Fading sunlight catches the light fall of snow, the first in a long time for Lakeland. It pulls at her heart for another reason: terrible homesickness for Ishgard. And the position of the sun now means-
"I have to cut this ‘play session’ short. I'm expected elsewhere." Nerys turns in the cage of his arms and gives him a gentle push. "And you're not allowed to be in my room when I am gone."
"Spoilsport. Whatever do you expect me to do? Languish in waiting?"
Her way cleared, Nerys moves past him to the bag she packed earlier. Just a small thing with the necessities for this jaunt...and if she doesn’t sleep in her room tonight. "I know you'll think of something. Surprise me."
As soon as she says it, she regrets it. Too late, his smirk is wide, his face lit with enthusiasm. “I can do that.”
He disappears in a swirl of aether. Nerys wonders if she made a fatal error.
---------
Amaros fly them to the Ostall Imperative. From there, she and Thancred walk the forest path. The creatures of the lilac-and-bone-colored forest keep their distance tonight, many hiding from the strange weather. They still need to be alert though, lest they or brigands cross the path.
Even still, she keeps having to look at him. Assure herself he is there, with her. Truly with her. Their hands brush together once, twice, three times before he at last laces their fingers together. Smiles up at her with a look that stills her breath no matter how many times it happens.
She has loved him...a long time. Grieved him in different ways for different reasons for a long time. And now here he is, having asked for another chance and she hopes this week is not a long, wishful dream.
“It’s never snowed while you’ve been here?” Nerys asks, using her free hand to dust the flakes off her shoulders. Five long years here, under the horrible light. She cannot imagine. No wonder he felt like a stranger when first they found each other in Laxan Loft.
"Not that I've seen. You've brought balance back to the place."
"We have, not just I." She squeezes his hand.
Thancred chuckles. "You should take the credit."
"So should you. And-"
He cups her cheek, tugging her down into a kiss. Deep and soft and intoxicating. All week he has caressed her like this, each time overwhelming her with the gentle sensuality of it. She can almost forgive him doing it just to win an argument. Almost, until she pulls back and sees the old familiar gleam, the old familiar smirk.
"You can't...do that every time." Nerys says, a little breathless. Hands still gripping the supple material of his coat like a lifeline.
"I would never. Only some of the time." His smirk grows. Twelve, but she missed that expression on his face. Not that she loves this new, more serious Thancred any less. Every part of him, every facet, she adores. "Though, I think I need to do it once more."
Never mind whoever waits for them. Now that she can touch him like this again, feel him like this again, she never wants to stop. And from the way his hands grip her, run over her sides and hips, he doesn't either. She presses herself close to him, lips tracing the line of his jaw to the shell of his ear.
Thancred pulls himself back, eyes hot. "If we don't start walking again, I'm going to drag you into the bushes."
She doesn't move. "That isn't incentive to walk."
"I should have known better." He holds out a hand and she takes it, surprised when he starts down the path again. “Come along.”
He must want this date to happen as planned. Thinking about it...they have not had many formal engagements like this. They were either comrades or they were lovers. Maybe there would be a trip to the market or a shared drink in Revenant’s Toll between battles and bed.
Nerys wonders if he might be inspired to poetry, like he had once with his other paramours. Not all of his couplets were groanworthy.
Bosta-Bea awaits them at Clearmelt, her smile wide and welcoming. The sign near her declares that the springs closed at sundown. That alone means Thancred put down a lot of coin for this. Bosta-Bea’s excellent humor doubly verifies it.
“I’ll be just inside if anyone tries to bother you,” she says after greetings and pleasantries are exchanged. “I doubt anyone will but just in case…”
“My thanks,” says Thancred. He hasn’t let go of her hand yet and he squeezes it while he speaks. “The changing rooms are just through there?”
“Yes, with towels to use in the bath.” Bosta-Bea ushers them through to the first room. It’s filled with large stalls that each contain shower, changing room, and locker. Everything hums with magic, likely a number of convenience charms throughout to dry hair and keep belongings safe.
In her own stall, Nerys strips away her leathers. The cool air of the new winter prickles over her skin until she can get under the hot water, rinsing the day off. She is still not used to washing shorter hair. Her hands reach for phantom length to lather with shampoo.
Nerys misses her curls. The haircut was necessary. For catharsis: chopping away locks that held memories of the past moons. For symbolism: starting again, refusing to let grief weigh her down.
And she did it in the city she calls home. Jandelaine paid a house call to the Fortemps Manor. Lord Edmont tried not to hover. Artoirel did hover, repeating questions and bringing her cups of tea and plates of orange-cardamom shortbread.
The hole in her heart began to scab over, the patch knit in tandem with her brother and second father; her friend wielding his scissors; and all Aymeric and Estinien did for her and with her the days and nights following her rescue from the Ascian in Zenos’ body.
Nerys is glad she did it.
Even still, she misses the length and the curl. Hasn’t acclimated to the change yet. Everyone has been complimentary. Thancred spent last night and the night before murmuring about her beauty as he took her apart. And Emet-Selch-
She yanks on the knob, turning off the shower and the intrusive thoughts with them.
The charms she expected are present, drawing the moisture from her skin and hair. Most don’t submerge themselves fully in these springs, never mind the new addition of cold wind and snow. Nerys wraps the soft towel around her body, slips her feet into the provided sandals. She takes her pack and lance with her. No offense to the lockers, but trouble never picks a convenient time to find her.
The first thing she sees is his gunblade propped up against one of the walls, just out of range of water but close enough to run for. She laughs and walks over, doing the same with her lance before taking the knife from her bag.
"Knifeplay?" Thancred asks. "I'm not sure I want to introduce that in this setting."
She turns to him with a snappy remark but it dissolves away.
He sprawls against the side of the bath, arms draped over the edge and head tipped back. What she can see of his muscled chest gleams with moisture in the moonlight. The light snow falls on his cheek.
“Nerys? It’s cold out.”
“It’s uncharacteristically cold tonight,” he said, standing outside her room at the Pendants. A pile of blankets in his hand. Two nights ago. Three days after they agreed to begin again, starting a slow and sometimes aching courtship.
Her chest tightened. “You had better come in then.”
“Just to deliver the blankets?” His eyes gleamed.
“Hm…” She pulled him inside. “That’s a start.”
His towel is folded, just within reach outside of the pool. Well then. Nerys lets hers fall, watching his eyes rake over her lush curves to the apex between her thighs. She takes her time walking over. A swell of pleasure rises in her gut. At the water’s edge, she bends at the waist to set towel and knife down within easy reach.
"You should come here," he says, a soft growl beneath his words. She fights the shudder wanting to rip through her.
"Just a minute." She slips out of the sandals. Dips a toe into the water, testing it. He starts to move towards her, but stops all at once when she holds up a hand. "Sit. Stay."
Thancred smirks. "You remember right? That I always repay you when you tease me."
A soft warmth incongruous to the moment floods her chest and she is helpless not to smile at him with soft eyes and a softer voice. "I have never forgotten a single moment, Thancred."
He swallows, his eyes telling the jumble of emotions roiling in him. She can see all the Thancreds she has known–the serious, protective Thancred, the closed-off and grieving Thancred. The teasing, playful Thancred who seduced her all over Mor Dhona. The attentive, caring Thancred who always knew when she needed him to take over and give her release, or when to let her hold the reins.
The loving Thancred, though neither of them have said the word yet.
"Nerys," he says, voice raw. "Come here."
She goes to him, sliding into the water and into his arms, into his lap as he embraces her. His tongue slides over her bottom lip and she opens to him, lets him plunder her mouth as his hands slide over her hips and waist. Traces her new scars, every mark she has earned since the Bloody Banquet. She finds the ones he has gained since, and where the First has failed to duplicate them. His soul is a near-perfect copy of the body in the Source, but there are small differences.
He parts from her after an eternity, gasping as he rests his forehead on her shoulder. "My plan was for a long, slow night of seduction. And yet, here we are."
“We always end up here,” she says with a laugh. Just as they had meant to take things slow, at least a few weeks before they became lovers again. Why had they ever thought that was a good idea? "Didn't you have any company, these five years?"
"Very little," he admits. "Almost none, once I took in Min-...Ryne. I couldn't exactly leave her to wait at a campsite while I lurked in a tavern looking for a companion."
"Very little," she repeats, cupping the side of his neck and the tattoo. Rubbing it gently. "You don't have to tell me details but...anyone I know?"
He smiles; a little sad, a little soft. "Despite having all the time to do so...no, I didn't make a move on either of them. By the time they got here, I was once again wrapped in my anger and grief."
Nerys sighs and kisses his forehead. "At our pace, neither of us will confess to Y'shtola before our sixtieth Nameday." As to when he might speak to Urianger, maybe before his fiftieth.
His laugh is gentle. "I forgot you were an optimist."
The word startles her in a way she can’t disguise and Thancred is alert all at once, ready to ease whatever troubles her. She shakes her head to assuage him. “Nothing. Nothing, just reminded me of a conversation I had with...someone, earlier.”
“Sweetheart.” The old endearment enfolds her in its warmth despite the slight reproof. “I can guess who from the evasion. It won’t bother me.”
"The last thing I want is to cause you more pain."
“He is not Lahabrea.” Thancred squeezes her hip. "Not that I am fond of our 'friend.' But it won't injure me to know you talk to him."
"Alright." She wraps her arms about his neck to better balance herself. The cold air and fall of snow prickle at her shoulders and chest, a sharp contrast to the heat of the water and where their skin presses together.
"And what about you?" He asks, shifting his leg just so between her thighs. No pressure against her center, not yet. "Was there anyone since I saw you? I know it wasn’t five years for you but..."
"Ah...yes." More heat rises in her. "...Estinien and Aymeric."
Thancred’s eyebrows shoot up. "Both? At the same time?"
“Mm.” Nerys finds herself ducking her head, vulnerable. Those stolen nights in Ishgard seem a dream now, all the more because she had thought it would never happen. And had made peace with that. "Estinien walked in on us and...well, they are a couple. It wasn't so odd to invite him…"
"And you’ve wanted him as long as you wanted Aymeric," says Thancred. He has that smug expression he gets sometimes. “Perhaps for longer. I wondered when it would happen.”
She huffs, scowling. "Is this what you do? Figure out who I am in love with and wait for me to say something?"
"I can't help it." He dips his head, kissing her shoulder. "I seem to have an extra sense for this sort of thing with you."
“I’m glad we found each other.” She means it teasing but again, her words come out warm with emotion. How long till she can stop feeling so much relief to have him in her arms? Sometimes she thinks she feels more than she is supposed to, with no way to stem the tide.
“So am I.” That leg moves with purpose now, nudging against her folds. He leans forward, catching her cold-stiffened nipple between his lips. She gasps, a low moan following right after. Thancred smirks and looks up at her. “Your exploits make for stirring tales.”
“Well, that answers that.”
In an instant, Nerys is up with the knife while Thancred rises, his fists raised. Their usual weapons are just far enough that blades and hands make sense for the interim.
Emet-Selch lounges on the opposite side of the bath, chest and below submerged in the water. He chuckles. "This is the second time you've aimed a blade at me today. I'm starting to think you don't like me."
Thancred growls. "You're trespassing, Ascian."
"Oh?" He shrugs. Nerys refuses to note how well-sculpted his shoulders are. "I wasn't aware you owned these natural springs, the night air…"
"You know exactly what I mean."
"Mayhaps. But I was practically invited. Isn't that right, my dear?" Emet-Selch turns his gaze to Nerys, making no secret of how his eyes sweep over her nude body, her erect nipples, the drops of water coursing down her blue-gray skin.
She is already bare and it still feels like he is undressing her with his gaze.
“What? No.” She shakes her head at Thancred’s shocked expression. “No. When I said ‘surprise me’, this is not what I meant.”
“Well, this is why being specific is important." Emet sighs, sinking deeper into the water. “Will you put that knife down? Having two things pointing at my way is rather disconcerting...though stimulating."
At that, Thancred seems to remember he is naked and erect, though the cold air is working to amend the second problem. He sinks back into the water.
Nerys stoops to set the knife down, one arm shielded over her breasts and trying keep her thighs together. It wreaks havoc on her balance and makes Emet look even more amused. She gives up–he has already seen her–and sinks back into the water without further attempts at modesty.
The Emperor was a soldier, in his way. If his immortality hadn’t made him immune to being scandalized, being in the barracks surely had. As soon as she sits, Thancred slides an anchoring arm about her waist.
"Better," says Emet. "No wonder you have been neglecting me to spend all your time with him, hero. He is rather spectacular, beneath all the scowls he sends my way."
Thancred rolls his eyes. “You got your surprise and answered your question. Whatever that was.”
“Oh, that?” Emet-Selch’s smirk unfurls, slow as honey without the sweetness. “Our Warrior told me about Lord Haurchefant, how open they are with each other. I wondered if she was so with her other paramours, talking freely about her conquests."
Thancred glances her way again. There was no reason to volunteer that information, it just...came up. When provoked, to be fair. Every other time she’s spoken about it...no she cannot say it was always to score points against Emet.
The look he gives her isn’t accusatory, she realises. It is...considering.
“And then here I find you two, comparing notes. Well, comparing notes against near celibacy. Either way, it’s very interesting.”
Nerys squeezes Thancred’s knee below the water. Rubs her thumb over the joint. “How long were you there?”
“Oh, long enough to be enjoyable but not so much to have been rude.” He slides a hand through his hair, pushing back locks damp from steam and snow. It...does things for his face, which he likely knows. “I did tell you that I like to watch.”
“Had your fill then?” Thancred asks, squeezing her hip.
"It takes much more to sate me. But it seems you two will be boring and stare at me till I leave." He sighs. "And as you are both submerged, I cannot even have something nice to look at. So, I suppose I'll go…"
No wait- She almost says.
She almost says! Twelve, Fury, whoever was listening, preserve; Nerys had actually thought of asking him to stay. This attraction is more dangerous than she thought. Clearly she is not so cool and objective about his beauty, if she is so on the verge.
Thancred goes very still beside her.
Nerys curses inwardly. Of course he catches on. This is what he does–understand what she wants before she admits it to herself. And that is all fine...until it is this man behind everything they have fought, everything that has hurt them and taken away their loved ones.
Attraction is not harmless and objective if Thancred is beside her, hurting because of it and her.
“Depends,” says Thancred, squeezing her hip again. “Are you going to sit there and make remarks, or are you going to do something useful?"
What?
She turns to Thancred, at a loss. Even at his most reckless, he wouldn’t invite an enemy to...maybe she misunderstands.
Emet-Selch is very still, the self-satisfied expression gone from his face. Thancred has surprised them both.
“Are you…” She swallows and starts again. “Are you saying…”
“You’re attracted to him, and he to you.” Thancred says, pressing lips to her temple. The soft pressure is unlike the rigid way he holds himself, tension all through his body. “And while neither of us trust him, sex doesn't have to require that.”
It doesn’t, but it always has for her. Even one night with a stranger requires someone she feels relatively safe with. More than that–he isn’t telling the whole truth. He isn’t testing her. That isn’t his way. But he has a reason she can’t guess at yet.
She does not trust Emet-Selch. He is not safe.
But. But.
If...when he strikes, it will not be while making love to them. It seems too gauche, too crude for him. There have been other times, more seemly times he might have waited for her to lower her guard. Like hours ago, when she presented her back to him and he had all but molded to it.
And she trusts Thancred.
“Okay,” she says. Not even sure that Emet will agree or if he is about to laugh at their temerity. Two sundered beings, thinking they might bring pleasure to an Ascian. “But if anyone says stop, we stop. No questions asked.”
“Agreed.” Thancred says, keeping her close to him.
Emet begins to rise until Thancred lifts a hand, gesturing for him to stay put. Clearly amused, the other man complies.
Nerys startles when Thancred lifts her into his arms and out of the water, carried like a bride through the chill air. He has always been strong but...he lifts her as if she is nothing. His muscles speak to the strength he has honed these five years but still, she hadn’t grasped the change. Not until now, cradled against his chest with her long legs dangling over his arms.
Thancred crouches, setting her into Emet’s lap with her back against the Ascian’s chest, smoothing his hands over her arms before he lets go. At once, Emet slides his hands around to palm her breasts. She gasps at the electric touch–both too much and not enough.
He is not shy. And he is not going to dismiss them.
His hands feel better than he imagined. And she can admit now: she imagined.
"I've no idea what you're trying to prove, Thancred." Emet says, breath against her ear. "But as it gives me something I want, I will examine it later."
Something in her clenches at that. “When you spoke of play...have you been flirting this whole time? Or was that just to rile me?”
“Yes.” Emet presses his lips to the side of her neck, feather light. Almost imperceptible. His hands are the opposite, purposeful as they knead her breasts, roll her dark purple nipples between his fingers until she squirms on his lap. It’s like he knew how sensitive she would be there.
Thancred’s hand reaches behind her, gripping somewhere on Emet. His shoulder? Digging into his hair? He has to lean in close to do it and Nerys takes advantage. She presses her mouth to his brown nipple, chasing a rivulet of water down his chest. Sweet, just like he can be.
"You don't put anything inside her until I say so," says Thancred. His voice is harsh but he shivers beneath her lips.
"Oh," Emet breathes. "Do you always let him boss you like that, my dear?"
He squeezes her left breast and she gasps against Thancred instead of answering. All at once he stills, waiting for her response. “S-sometimes. It depends.”
That earns her more pressure against her needful flesh, the fingers pinching just so. “Tell me.”
Nerys tries to look back at him. He frees one hand to catch her chin, directing her eyes back to Thancred who kneels before her. It almost doesn’t feel real, without seeing Emet and his smile and his pale-gold eyes. It could be anyone behind her, certainly not him of all people.
Except that voice. She would know it in the haunting light of Kholusia or in the darkest cave of the Night’s Blessed. At some point, he slipped under skin as if he was meant to be there.
Thancred watches them, running one hand up and down the outside of her thigh in slow strokes. The other is underwater, mirroring the touches on himself. He nods, giving her permission to tell their secrets.
“We...switch,” she says. “I often prefer someone to hold my reins. But...sometimes I like telling him what to do. Withholding from him until he is good. Making him beg.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Emet purrs, proving just how long he watched them. She frowns and puts her hand on his wrist, giving it a light squeeze.
“That’s his name for me. You need to choose your own.”
He sighs and she can feel his eyes rolling. Dramatically. “Oh, very well. I suppose I could continue calling you my dear.”
At those words, his teeth sink into her earlobe and his hands resume their kneading. His erection presses at her under the water, the thickness apparent just from the feel of him. She resists the urge to grind against it, lest it end things too soon.
"Any other orders, Thancred? Or are you content to watch me tease her until she begs for release?"
Thancred cups her face between his hands and kisses her, unhurried and deep. She grows pliant under the luxurious touch of both men. No reins desired in her hands tonight. And from the glint in his eyes when he parts from her, Thancred can tell.
“Hold her arms behind her,” he says. “And you’ll be nice for us, won’t you sweetheart? He shouldn’t have to worry about holding you back."
"I'll play nice. This time."
“Ha." He nips her jaw. "Say stop, and we stop. And if you can’t speak, go very still and I will too.”
Nerys nods. Strong hands grip her arms, arranging them to cross behind her back before locking tight upon her. Except-
Except, there are still fingers on her breast. Palms anchoring her hips tight against Emet. She looks down and sees black and purple aether in the vague shape of hands, cupping her aching chest.
Emet chuckles, low and dark. His cock twitches against her. "I have my talents."
Twelve. Growing wet is...different in hot water. But there is still a heated, slick pulse between her legs and her hips try to jerk in response to the idea of what he could do with all those hands. The heat filling her has nothing to do with the springs.
Thancred pushes the aether-hands off her chest so he can cup her breasts, drawing them up as he lowers his mouth to suckle at one. Her head tips back and Emet-Selch takes advantage, lips pressing to the side of her neck. The barest hint of teeth whispers with them.
“So sweet, so good,” murmurs Thancred. His large, callused hands slide over her as his tongue traces her nipple. "What do you want tonight?"
Nerys can barely shiver, the hold on her is so tight and strong. Emet’s fingers pulse against her, firm but not harsh on her skin. “I want you. I want you both. However you want me.”
He smiles and she readies to receive another litany of compliments. The words always flow from him when he is amorous, praising every twitch of her muscles, every way she takes him into her. Instead, he rewards her with another dizzying kiss; so intense she forgets herself and tries to throw her arms about him.
Emet tightens his grip, tutting against her neck. "And she was so well behaved until now."
“Sorry,” she murmurs against Thancred’s mouth. “I just-I need to feel you-”
“Shh, it’s alright.” Thancred hushes her, his fingers against her mouth as he moves into her space. She parts her lips and takes the tip of one, swirling her tongue about it. “Ah, I’ll give you what you need.”
He slides a hand onto the back of her neck, nudging her down while she continues lathing his finger. The many hands clutching her accommodate, till she is suspended and bent over, balanced by the arms held taut behind her, barely on Emet’s lap. Her chin dips into the hot water and she stares up through lowered lashes.
Thancred stands, sliding a hand to grip just beneath the swollen head of his cock. Not as thick as what she feels against her rump, but it has grown to its full aroused length. Emet hums appreciatively, likely at the outstanding number of ilms on display. She thinks–it is hard to think, held like this, a slip away from all of her sinking into the water, his cock before her-
She thinks there are more hands on her now, thumbs rubbing subtle, light circles into her arms and legs and ankles. Emet follows the orders; nothing is inside her yet. But oh how she wants there to be, an end to the sweet torture of the many teasing touches.
“Well?” Emet asks. “Are you going to give her what she needs? You certainly have enough of it.”
Thancred smirks over her head, slowing the pace of his stroke as he goes from root to tip. Caressing each bit of the shaft before swirling his thumb over the head, worrying at his lip when he does so. Both she and Emet make pleased sounds at the same time, hers much more needy and inelegant.
At last, Thancred slides one hand into her short locks; keeping her in place as he guides himself into her mouth. Slow at first, then pressing deep as she relaxes her mouth and throat. She cannot take him all the way but she tries, savoring the heady taste of him and spring water until her toes curl.
He fucks into her mouth, his hips jerking in quick thrusts. The water splashes up her face and she closes her eyes, the sensations heightening the moment she does. Over the splashing she hears Thancred say something. In response, two fingers plunge into her folds. In and out, pulling back as soon as she tries to grind against them.
She thinks they are Emet’s flesh hands. She cannot be sure.
Nerys squirms to free herself, needing to touch Thancred. Run her hands over his shaft where her mouth cannot possibly go. The grip on her limbs tightens, a third finger slides into her. She can feel Emet’s body move with a chuckle even though she can only hear the water splashing over her nose and closed eyelids. The threat to her breathing goads her pleasure.
Thancred’s grip in her hair tightens, the other hand joining to burrow in the violet and white strands. His fingers in her scalp send a new wave of feeling through her. She moans around him, the pressure in her building but with no outlet in sight.
His thrusts speed up and she knows what is about to happen, groans in encouragement as his release pours into her. He doesn’t let go, not until he is fully spent and the momentum gives way. She can hear him now, the running litany of praise he must have kept up the whole time. “-so good, so good you did so well…”
He drags her off him and kneels, pressing her to sit again with her back against Emet, lips brushing against hers as she swallows and catches her breath. Nerys opens her mouth to him and he follows her, tasting her more fully. Tasting himself more fully.
“Fuck,” she whispers. “I feel like I’m close but also not at all.”
“I can take care of that.” Thancred says, kissing her forehead. He takes a deep breath and submerges beneath the water. She isn’t sure what he’s about until his mouth latches onto her clit, sucking as much as he can below. The fingers inside her curl
“Fuck,” she hisses again. They’re going to eviscerate her like this.
“Look at you.” Emet says, mouthing along her shoulder. "How easily you come apart. How eager you are to obey, and he is not half so dominating as I would be."
She moans–from his fingers, Thancred’s mouth, the implicit promise in Emet’s words. Nerys answers the challenge in them instead. “I-I know he’ll make it good for me. I d-don’t need that much encouragement.”
“Implying what? You aren’t so assured of me?” He catches her chin between thumb and forefinger, turning her head back towards him until it almost hurts. The edge of pain thrills down her spine, joining the rest of the heightened feelings in her. “I think you can accurately guess the heights I could drive you to.”
His breath tickles the corner of her mouth. At last she sees his eyes and the roaring fire they contain, the undisguised need and want. She gasps, not just from the increased thrusting of his fingers, the pressure and seal of Thancred’s mouth. If he had ever shown her that look before, she would have dragged him to bed and the consequences be damned.
Thancred emerges, taking a breath at the same time he slides his hand over the one Emet has on her face. Presses his mouth over the other man’s fingers before kissing Nerys like she is the oxygen he couldn’t have underwater.
His other hand slips between her thighs, direct and purposeful on her sensitive bud. His words pour into her ears–”yes, let go, let go, I want you to come like this, just like this”–and Emet’s fingers move faster inside her. With his wonderful, knowledgeable hand at her clit and his ragged words against her cheek, it doesn’t take long for her to come with a cry.
Thancred swallows her yell, her shaking prevented by Emet’s grip. For a moment, all she sees are the brilliant stars above them in the inky sky. The snow falling on her hair. The crescent moon, reminiscent of one of Emet’s toothier smiles.
Emet lets her go all at once and she collapses against Thancred, melting into his soothing touch. Her breath is loud in her ears, near as much as her heart slamming against her ribs and his against her ear.
“Good girl.” Thancred kisses the tip of her pointed ear. “Do you know what I would do for you, if we were in a different setting?”
She shivers, feeling the cold air for the first time since he put her in Emet’s lap. “Tell me. Please.”
“I would let you take us both, together, at the same time. Get you so stretched and wet for us, so slick...” The soft growl is back in his voice and she might climax again, just from that. As maple-sugar-sweet and poetic he can be, as worshipful as he may choose to be, this is a part of him too. Hungry and demanding.
“True, we cannot prepare her easily in this setting.” Emet says. “Very well, you’ve convinced me.”
There is a soft snap.
Nerys lies in a bed–her bed, in her room at the Pendants. She is warm and dry, not a drop of water on her. Warmer still from Emet, stretched out and pressed along her side, tracing patterns into her abdomen. (Also, the bed is made. The coverlet is far too expensive to come from the inn. She touches the red material in wonder.)
“Hilarious,” Thancred says from the center of the room. Naked and sopping wet, with all their belongings beside him in a careful pile. Emet would not harm their weapons, even if he might be unkind to Thancred’s person. “You might have dried me off too.”
“Hm…” Emet pushes himself on one elbow, the other hand tapping a finger to his lips. “If you fetch the oil from her bathroom cabinet, I shall dry you off.”
For a long moment, Thancred stares him down. Eyes narrowed. But there is no real ire and with a sigh, he makes for the bathroom. The aether lights flicker on as soon as he steps inside.
“How did you know...Emet-Selch! I said you’re not allowed to be here when I’m gone.”
She starts to sit up. Quick as any hunting animal, he braces his arm on the other side of her and swings a leg across. He leans over her, caging her in on all sides without touching her. Yet. “Yes, but I never agreed to those terms. Underhanded but...my hero did request surprises.”
Nerys puts a hand flat against his shoulder with the intent to push. His skin is warm beneath her palm, the silken feel of him unexpected. It would be so easy to shove him off, storm away from the bed. Except this is the first time truly looking at him since they began and...he has her trapped. Immolating in the pale gold fire of his eyes, mesmerized in the quirk of his brow and tilt of his full lips. The longer she stares, the more neutral his expression becomes and he returns the scrutiny.
There is no buffer. No Thancred to protect her or distract her. And she is afraid-
But not of him, she realises with a start. It’s the intensity I feel when he touches me. I’m scared of how much I want him to touch me again. I’m scared at how right this seems.
She pushes herself up with one hand, the other cups the back of his neck. Pulls him down to her. Emet stills only a moment before his eyes flutter shut and he submits to her, mouth moving soft and slow over hers. His hands curl about her waist, thumbs stroking over her skin. He savors her with the slow drag of his tongue coaxing her more open, more vulnerable to his ministrations.
When they part his eyes are half-lidded, expression utterly relaxed. He’s beautiful. He’s always beautiful. But this pierces her in a new way, so lovely he could rend her heart in two with one look. And he just might.
The hands on her hips pull her forward as he leans back. She ends up in his lap, straddling his waist in one fluid motion. Nerys reaches between them to stroke him. He has been patient this whole time, the least she can do is-
Emet catches her hand and lays the attached arm upon his shoulder, then the other. She opens her mouth to protest and he interrupts her with another kiss. Just as slow and aching, one arm hooked behind her back while the other traces fingertips along her jaw. His hand is gentle as it runs over her throat, down between her breasts, stroking circles into her waist and hip.
Nerys realises it is the longest he has gone in her presence without talking. And she feels the laugh bubbling up her throat, mouth trembling with the strength of holding it back.
“Laughing at me, hero?” He murmurs against her mouth. Nips her lower lip in reprimand.
“N-no I just...felt giddy all of a sudden.” Damn her, ruining the mood like that. Just as his hand was traveling down.
“Liar.” His scolding teeth sink into the side of her neck. She gasps against him, laughter dissolving into a breathy sound. “Better. Let’s see what other preferable sounds we can draw from you.”
“You’re getting close,” she says. Now her smile is irrepressible. “A little lower and to my left…”
“Dear, dear, dear,” he sighs. “And you were so obedient before. Do I bring out the minx in you so much?”
“I thought that was part of why you always came back to talk.”
Instead of a verbal riposte, his hand moves down and to her left. Circling her center, finding the clit and pressing down upon it. As if he has brought her to pleasure a thousand times and knows just where to touch.
Nerys buries her face in his shoulder, shuddering until his strokes are too much and she has to moan against him.
“What delicious noises you make, my dear.” He says, continuing to circle. Continuing to scrape his teeth over her skin. “Thancred was a fool to ever let you go.”
“I was.”
Nerys opens her eyes. (When did she close them?) Thancred stands a few paces from the bed, glass bottle in hand. Both of Emet’s hands splay against her back, pressing her close against him. She feels his fingers snap against her, drying Thancred in an instant.
“At least you admit it,” says Emet.
Nerys has to push a moment before he lets her lean back, getting a better view of Thancred. Shakes her head. “It wasn’t as simple as all that, or one person’s fault.”
As mad as she still is at the Exarch...she might have spoken to Thancred a dozen times before this week. Taken the aetheryte to Mor Dhona to see him, pull him aside when he joined their party in Gyr Abania. Or called him over linkpearl, as she did the night they almost lost Y’shtola.
He pushed her away after they found him in Dravania, even more after Minfilia. But she squandered opportunities, each a bright and alarming memory in hindsight.
Before Thancred can respond, Emet puts a hand to her cheek and makes her look at him. His free hand raises, wagging a finger in her face before tapping her nose. “Ah ah ah, don’t let him off so easy. Not when he is doing his best to make it up to you now…”
Nerys sees the moment a thought takes hold, curling the ends of his mouth upward, drawing his brows down. He flicks a glance over his shoulder. “Oh, is that it? Why you asked me to join?”
Thancred cloaks the soft, warm expression at Nerys with a scowl at Emet. “Don’t pretend to understand my motives.”
Emet clicks his tongue in mock scandalization. “Presumptuous of you, thinking you’re allowed to gift wrap and present me as an apology present.”
Oh.
Nerys extricates herself from his lap, climbing off the bed in a hurry. Walking to Thancred. Searching his closed-off expression for a hint. “Is...is that true?”
Thancred reaches out and takes her hand. Lifts it to his mouth. For all the things these two men have done tonight, for all the things they might still do; these soft touches disarm her the most. And then he removes the facade for her, showing the hope and wariness and the mocking little smile. One she knows is always meant for himself, not anyone else.
He sighs “He’s not wrong, but he’s also not right.” Thancred peers behind her at the bed. “But if Emet-Selch feels used, he is free to leave at any time.”
That last part doesn’t sound angry or annoyed as much as...challenging. She watches him smirk and quirk a brow. Daring the other man.
“Naughty boy,” Emet murmurs. “No, I won’t leave. This has proven to be an interesting night indeed and I am not satisfied yet.”
Nerys touches Thancred’s cheek, drawing his gaze back up to her. Looks him dead in the eye. “You don’t have to do this. Your feelings matter to me and-”
“I could have let him leave, and given you a memorable night without him. I decided I wanted to give you this instead.” The old roguish smirk grows on his lips. “And besides, he has a nice prick.”
She exhales slow, deep, making herself relax. Banishing the anxious tension in her neck and shoulders. “Okay. I believe you.”
“You always can.” Thancred draws her face down and she follows, sinking into his embrace. He still holds the bottle and it’s cool against her back as she presses against the delicious heat of his body and the hard planes of his chest. As he moves, so does she until the backs of her legs hit the mattress. Down, down, she goes until she is sprawled with her head and shoulders in Emet’s lap, Thancred holding himself above her.
“That last part,” Emet says, taking the glass bottle. “You couldn’t see my ‘nice prick’ in the water.”
“But I can see it now.” Thancred shifts his balance to one hand, the other sinking between Emet’s thighs. Sliding a hand over the long-neglected length and this time, Emet doesn’t forestall his own pleasure but lifts his hips. His full lips part and he sighs with relief.
Nerys tilts her head to look up at Thancred, who gives her an expectant look. This old game then. They haven’t played this one since the Spring Festival in Mor Dhona. She meets the challenge with a grin of her own and adjusts her position to better participate.
His fingers return to the root of Emet’s cock and slide upward. She chases them with her tongue along the velvet underside. The scents she associates with him–petrichor and ice and stone–are less here. He could be anyone she might bed.
Emet gasps and slides his hand into her hair. Guiding her as much as Thancred. The steady, near-painful pleasure is unlike many men she has taken to bed for a single night. Who often keep distance and treat her like glass. He is unlike anyone else.
The fingers twist over the swollen head and slip away for her to do the same, mimicking the motion with her swirling tongue. Emet increases pressure on her until he slides between her lips. Nerys bobs up and down without further incentive. That his grip remains insistent only makes this sweeter.
He is nearly as thick as Haurchefant, sure to make her jaw ache.
Another hand–Thancred’s–grips the back of her neck and nudges her down, down, her eyes watering as Emet fucks into her throat. Her nose meets the prickling thatch of auburn curls. Emet lets loose a more desperate sound, the groan raw as he pulls her off of him, fingers still digging into her scalp.
“Good girl,” murmurs Thancred.
“And good boy.” The hands in her hair twists, angling her to watch Emet take hold of Thancred and kiss him with teeth and tongue and heat. Arousal pulses through her at the sight. They’re beautiful. They’re beautiful and tonight they are both hers.
Nerys rises up, sliding into their tangle and they open for her, mouths and hands worshipping at her skin. She wants to be at the center of this. She wants to be selfish and feel them attend to every inch of her before they fuck her. She wants them to burn her until she is naught but ash and pleasure.
“I need you,” she says to them both. “Please don’t stop touching me.”
“Oh, my dear.” Emet catches her chin, sliding his thumb between her lips. “As if I-we could. You are a feast laid out for us and we are but beggars.”
She sucks on it, watching desire flare in his eyes. Emet sighs as if resigned, sliding his hand down so that he can kiss her again. The gentleness of it has her arms and neck prickling with awareness, her breath catching. Everything about him screams danger and yet–yet he coaxes her with lips and tongue, courting her instead of simply taking.
As if sensing her thoughts and needing to disprove her assumption, he turns her about in his arms. Bites down on the juncture between her neck and shoulder. Nerys gasps and Thancred is there to catch her, soothing her even as his own teeth drag over her pulse. Behind her is rustling and the soft pop of a bottle uncorked. She can hear Emet moving his hands together, warming his palms.
Thancred has not forgotten her request. As his mouth travels over her, his hands move in long strokes over arms and waist, hips and legs, neck and cheek. A dizzying perusal of caresses, maintaining the contact she needs.
She startles when Emet squeezes her rear, shivers when one oil slicked hand slides towards the tight ring of muscle. When the first finger begins to circle, Thancred kisses her shoulder. As it slides in to the knuckle, he strokes her sides.
“That’s it,” Thancred murmurs. “You’re doing so good. Look how wet you already are, ready for me to slide deep into you. And I will, as soon as he’s done preparing you.”
“My,” Emet says, kissing behind her ear. “He is a chatty one.”
“He is one to talk.”
“He must feel lost without some narration. Or is the talk for your benefit? Do you need me to tell you how good you’re swallowing me, how tight, how perfectly made for my fingers and my prick you are…”
Nerys means to laugh but a moan comes out instead. Digs her fingers into Thancred’s ivory locks and urges his lips downward. “I-I don’t need it but I like it.” She could have them talk to her like this for hours.
“Impatient,” Thancred mutters at her insistent pushing. He puts up a resistance, sliding his tongue over her stomach all the same.
“I don’t see you stopping me.” Nerys smiles down at him. “Unless you plan on making me pay?”
Teeth sink into her other shoulder as Emet adds a second finger. She wriggles against the sensation, tugging at Thancred’s hair in response. Quick, as if this is a battle–and maybe it is–Thancred grabs her wrists and pins them down on either side of her. Nerys grips at the unfamiliar coverlet, meeting his smirk with a scowl.
She tries to lift herself up, presenting herself for his mouth. He ignores the offering, attending to her breasts instead. Dipping down and then back up as soon as she thinks he might taste her. His grip is iron when she pushes against it, squeezing in warning when she does it again.
“Two strikes…” He says.
Now she has to know. Nerys tries a third time and finds herself dragged to lie on her back, his shoulders shoving under her thighs until they press against her stomach. Emet's slick hands leave her and she moans at the loss.
"You'll have him back in a moment." Thancred says. He glances up, has a wordless conversation with Emet behind her. Takes hold of her arms and lifts them, passing them over. Her wrists are shoved down, captured in the harsh grip of one hand pinning above her head.
It should be worrying that they are cooperating this well to make her writhe. Instead, she feels giddy and like she might dissolve from the force of anticipation..
She tests the restraint and finds no give, not even with her two hands to his one. Emet looks down at her, pitiless and expression bright with desire. And then her eyes shut because Thancred devours her. No mercy, no restraint, his hands gripping her thighs so tight they might bruise. He pushes her higher and higher until he thighs shake and she can see the edge-
And then he pulls back completely.
"Please," she gasps. "That's not fair. I need you-"
Emet’s face is upside-down above her, but he finds a way to slot his mouth against hers. She pours her frustration into the kiss, demanding release with a bite to his lip. He only chuckles against her mouth, his slow reprimand becoming something fierce. Engulfing.
When he parts from her, his lips but an ilm from hers, his eyes are unfocused and his breath ragged. She tastes his blood on her tongue. Licks her lips.
"Not yet," says Emet. "Not after we went through all the trouble of preparing you."
His hand is unyielding against her. Nerys tries to move her hips and legs instead and Thancred presses further, going the small distance needed to bend her in half. "I could come again after-"
“Listen.” Emet nips her shoulder. "We’ve staked a claim upon your pleasure. You’re going to have it...when we’re ready. Yes?”
Fuck. His words, his lowered voice...She would rub her thighs together if she could, if Thancred wasn't between them. Instead, she feels herself growing wetter, hotter. Thancred’s fingers slide over her but for all the lewd noises he draws out, he does not touch anywhere that might bring her release.
"Answer him, sweetheart,” says Thancred. "For once he is making sense."
“Yes,” she murmurs.
“What was that?”
“Yes. Yes, I’ll do what you want me to.”
"Good girl," Emet says, the two of them moving her to sit up between them again. "That deserves a reward."
"Please tell me the reward is your cocks," she says, leaning back against him. "Otherwise, I don't think I'll make it."
"Impatient." Emet mutters but he drips more oil into her cleft, the three fingers returning to open her, stretch her. She braces herself against Thancred, half slumped over and cheek pressed against his heart. If she tries to touch herself, he will stop her but she considers it. Dares one hand down against her stomach. He grabs at it, kissing her as he does.
Nerys groans, rocking back against the fingers stretching her. Grasping for the peak Thancred almost brought her to.
"She's ready," says Emet at last, his voice rough. His hands dig into her cheeks, squeezing as he parts them. "Needy creature. Who knew you had it in you to desire so much?"
"I knew." Thancred kisses her shoulder. "He'll learn, sweetheart."
"That you think you can teach me anything…" Emet mutters. "Mortals. And their arrogance."
"Please," Nerys begs, her voice taut with need. She clutches at Thancred as an anchor against the sweet torture they’re putting her through. "You can lecture us all you want but first give me your-"
At that, his head presses against her. Rocks a moment before sliding into her oil-slicked passage, his hands stroking circles to soothe her as he enters slow and steady. When her breath hitches and the ache is almost too much, he stops and kisses her nape and spine until she relaxes again.
She’s trembling in his arms, overwhelmed at the fullness, the sensation of him deep in her, wrapped around her. His aether seems to sink into her, embracing her as if he has re-manifested all those phantom hands again. But it is just him, just a barrier taken down between them.
When she beds someone with strong aether...those times were just a shade of this. This is beyond anything she has ever experienced.
Emet skims his hands over her muscular thighs, hosting her close until his chin rests on her shoulder. She opens her eyes as he eases them back, watching the view trade Thancred for the ceiling and instinctively reaches out for balance. And then Emet kisses her neck and soothes her skin and she relaxes again.
"Well?" He says, holding her legs open. "She wants you too, Thancred.”
Thancred crouches between her thighs, running a hand over his cock. It has returned to its full aroused length, a tantalizing bead of moisture at the head. His refractory period is always impressive, and they have taken their time since the hot springs. Teasing her until she feels ready to burst.
"I wonder if you'll even physically be able to take it all." Emet says in her ear. "Stuffed as you already are."
He rocks his hips just so and she whimpers at the feel of him. It is true–she is already full to bursting. It is also true–she wants to take as much of them as she can. All of them if she is able.
“If it’s too much…” Thancred leans over her. Presses his cock against her folds as he lines himself up. “Look at me.”
She looks at him, into the warm depths of his eyes. Into the need and heat. Nerys lifts her hips in invitation and Emet is there to slide them back down, groaning softly.
“You know how to stop things, sweetheart. If it gets too much.”
“If it gets too much,” she repeats, licking her lips. “Thancred please fu-”
He slides into her without resistance, slick and ready as she is. It is almost too much and he isn't even half-way seated inside of her. She bites her lip so she doesn't say the word because she wants more, she wants to be utterly lost-
Emet bites the back of her neck and she cries out, but her body relaxes. Thancred slides deeper inside her, bracing his forearms on either side of them. Tension furrows between his brows.
“Alright?” He asks, more breath than sound.
“Yes,” she whimpers. “Please-please-”
"How sweetly you beg." Emet curls one hand around her breast, the other sliding down her stomach. Dragging to where Thancred is buried inside her and her swollen nub waits succor. He traces outside it, slow and taunting. "It almost makes me want to see how long we can keep you just shy of climaxing."
Thancred smirks. Some of the tension eases in his face. "Keep talking like that, it's making her clench around me."
"Bastards," she moans, reaching for Thancred. Resting arms on his shoulders as he begins to move, his slow, vexing strokes in rhythm with the lift of Emet's hips.
"Oh, do be nice," Emet continues as his fingers brush against her core. "I have only ever admired you. And here you are, exceeding all my expectations. You, who shine brighter than most mortals, you're almost radiant now-"
Nerys cannot think enough to string a response together. Sex is often a release for her, a way to center herself. This feels like...being remade. Like the tandem motion of their bodies strips everything away until there is only the pleasure and the ache. Even the growing cramp in her calves cannot compare with the ecstasy coursing through her.
They are both talking, dropping praise upon her but now she cannot hold onto their meaning. Only the feeling of them sliding in and out of her, the ache and stretch of her body, the slap of their skin on hers. Especially as the pace picks up, both men pushing each other to a greater tempo, snapping hips to drive her back and forth between raging fire and raging fire.
The fingers at her clit press down. The edge is in sight and she sobs aloud for them to keep going. To keep moving. Not to stop again, not when she is so close.
Thancred kisses her. Lips press against her nape and she can feel Emet's smile, his breath as he mouths words into her skin that she cannot hear and cannot parse. They move faster inside her, the finger circling, teeth on her flesh-
Nerys screams as her pleasure rips through her, clutching at whatever she can as her mind enters the strange place of release–a mind so focused on one thing as to feel almost blank, a mind so overcome with feeling that there is nothing but relief and pleasure and not a single thought. She gasps and arches and sobs as they work her through it, the frenzied rhythm milking every onze of pleasure from her
Emet gasps and she feels the final, desperate thrusts of his release. And Thancred, Thancred keeps going, keeps moving in her and moving her against Emet until they are both sensitive and depleted and keening and then, and then Thancred lets himself go.
Nerys is nothing but ash and pleasure, smoldering between them.
Emet moves first, lips pressing to her back as his hand traces patterns into her skin. Idle, swirling loops and flourishes that guide her back to the land of the living. She follows their trail without hesitation, her hand sliding over his as she follows.
She opens her eyes just as fingers slides over her cheek. Thancred leans over her, forehead pressed to hers. Studying her as if he has never seen her before. Maybe he hasn't. Maybe she is someone else on the other side of what they shared.
Maybe they all are.
He slides out of her and she whimpers at the loss, both of him and the heady sense of being filled completely. But he returns to her, resting his cheek against her the swell of her chest while the rest of him lies flush against her.
Nerys strokes his hair and finds the energy to speak. “Okay?”
"Okay," says Thancred. Smiles a little. "I don't ever want to move again."
A soft snort behind her. "Your time is short as is."
"Hush," she says. "You're not going anywhere either."
"Oh?" Emet kisses her shoulder. "Bold of you to-"
Despite what he just said, Thancred moves. Slides up and nudges Nerys just so until he is able to press his lips against Emet's. The Ascian hums in response, submitting to the delightful reprimand.
At last Thancred pulls away with a sigh. "Much better."
Emet chuckles. "So, you two plan on keeping me here tonight. Well, I put myself at your mercy...provided you let me lead the figure at some point."
"If you're good," Nerys teases, and then gasps as Emet rolls his hips against her.
“My dear,” says Emet. His hands slide up her stomach, cupping her breasts. She can tell from Thancred’s expression, they’re sharing a conspiratorial look. Anticipation and wonder sing through her. “Let me prove just how good a playmate I can be."
#nerys eluned#emet-selch#thancred waters#thancred x wol x emet-selch#thancred x wol#emet-selch x wol#thancred x emet-selch#ffxiv#duskwight warrior of light#dragoon warrior of light#elezen#water cw#ally writes
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Sense and Sensibility Readthrough Part 7.5
Or, where I was gonna start chapter 11, but needed to talk about why I thought Willoughby's observation was wrong.
And then, of course, I turned it into something really long, so that's taken up my reading session today. (I still haven't finished writing my thoughts on Narrative Voice either, because it has gotten loooong.)
Anyway.
"Brandon is just the kind of man," said Willoughby one day, when they were talking of him together, "whom everybody speaks well of, and nobody cares about; whom all are delighted to see, and nobody remembers to talk to."
Elinor is right, here, that Willoughby is demonstrably wrong in his assessment of Colonel Brandon's social activity. It's not merely the fact that Elinor herself has taken an interest in Brandon enough, but simply the fact that Willoughby's claim that nobody remembers to talk to Brandon, is predicated on Willoughby himself dismissing the existence/value of the Middletons in general. It's not true that Brandon is not spoken to, it's that he's not spoken to by an arbitrary class of people whom Willoughby thinks matters, such as Willoughby, Marianne and Elinor, which he himself is a part of.
> "That he is patronised by you," replied Willoughby, "is certainly in his favour; but as for the esteem of the others, it is a reproach in itself. Who would submit to the indignity of being approved by such a woman as Lady Middleton and Mrs. Jennings, that could command the indifference of anybody else?"
We know the Middletons speak to him, because Willoughby himself admits it, but we also know from his own words that they don't count, only Elinor does. In fact, he considers them a negative. Social noise. Detractors by association even, a bad or shallow crowd. I wouldn't be surprised is he considers servants here also. After all, Marianne has already said as much in her statements around being 27, and we're lead to believe they share perspective on most things. Were it to be that Colonel Brandon was comfortable and sociable with the Middletons' maids and butlers, I think Willoughby would still consider him an unfortunate case.
And importantly, we know that the Middletons don't restrict themselves to just speaking with him, they also do care about him and his problems. Elinor has referenced that Sir Middleton clearly knows about whatever has troubled his history, and does have an investment in seeing the man socialise. Mrs. Jennings, for all her misplaced enthusiasm, does have an interest in his romantic life or woes as it may be. Just because these cares are aligned with their own interests of socialising and matchmaking, doesn't invalidate them. (Can't say much for Lady Middleton but the narrative has ventured that Lady Middleton specifically is a little cold outside the topic of her own children.) And, you know, who knows what other friends Brandon may have. We aren't him. He was even a Colonel, he must at least have military mates.
We see the Middletons as very flawed individuals because the narrative has framed them this way. Sir Middleton is ignorant, Lady Middleton is self-absorbed and Mrs. Jennings is shallow; on this line we're also expected to dismiss their value as individuals and friends at least slightly, the same way Willoughby and Marianne do.
But really, we can turn that assessment straight around, on Marianne in particular. She can be considered narrow-minded and dismissive. Arrogant perhaps, maybe even cold to people who are unfamiliar to her. As self-absorbed as Lady Middleton, perhaps, or as shallow as Mrs. Jennings. She's not so different, but she gets a pass inside the story for being young and pretty, and out of story for being the protagonist. It's easier to dismiss her flaws because they are presented, but not highlighted. But, again, we can turn that back around for the Middletons! If perhaps Brandon were the protagonist, would Mrs. Jennings have the same cheerful warmth as Mama Middleton? Maybe Lady M does care, but is simply detached like Elinor? There is certainly nobody in the story as genuinely generous and well-meaningly sociable as Sir M.
How might the Dashwoods appear then? Elinor might be cold, disinteresting, even if she shows some care. Marianne, pretty but vain and shallow; friendly, but mayhap just as likely to ask somebody to sing a song she just heard, or to bulldoze somebody with her opinions. Mama Dashwood might even appear as self-absorbed in her own family as Lady M; she made a point not to socialise beyond walking distance.
Either way, my point being, they are not so different. Watch Willoughby or anyone, including herself, give Marianne the time of day if she were older or dumpier! Or a servant! Is my statement here to mean that noone will give her attention? No, actually. Plenty of nice, genuine, and flawed people will anyway. Just that Willoughby and Marianne themselves, and anybody with that particular flaw of pride, would not.
So, yeah! Willoughby's observation was incorrect, and very myopic really. Such is youth, except come on man, Marianne is 17 but you're my age. You should know better! Man's definitely coasted on some social privilege his whole life and it shows.
"I do not dislike him. I consider him, on the contrary, as a very respectable man, who has everybody's good word, and nobody's notice; who, has more money than he can spend, more time than he knows how to employ, and two new coats every year."
I think Willoughby genuinely considers himself to not dislike Brandon. After all, he doesn't hate him, and he knows he has no reason to dislike him. I think Willoughby is the type of person who genuinely considers themselves to not dislike anyone, because, again, he has no reason to. They don't matter to him in that way.
But I think his general attitude speaks for itself. After all, he does find Lady Middleton and Mrs. Jennings thoroughly disrespectable, even by association. He considers Brandon a respectable man, but only in the ways in which he considers Brandon to have potential to be amongst people like himself and Marianne. He otherwise has everything callous to say about the aspects of Brandon's personality and circumstance that keep him from joining what he perceives as a more lively and acceptable strata of sociability. He certainly takes no issue with Marianne's actual open dislike of the man. (Though, come to think of it, that may be at least in part Mrs. Jenning's fault for setting her on him through thoroughly inappropriate real-person-shipping.)
I do think Willoughby has a great, mostly unvoiced disdain for Brandon's crowd, and I think that disdain extends to Brandon himself for having just enough potential to escape it, but not doing so. I get flashbacks to cases like in To Kill a Mockingbird (and uh, real life...) where people don't think they're racist, but also quite obviously don't think anything of the black community, and also look down on anyone who associates with them, like the guy has to always pretend he's drunk, and Atticus Finch himself. Disliking other people is a bad thing that other people do! This case is probably nowhere near as serious, but it comes from similar places on basic levels. Exclusivity, tribalism, elitism, prejudice, ostracisation, from where deeper, deeper problems take root.
STATUS! That's a word that could have been useful to me but I haven't used.
Anyway, I take this perspective because it's not as though I wasn't there too at one point, though absolutely nowhere near the extent of Marianne or Willoughby. I certainly didn't hold those conscious opinions, but I still felt the pressure to define the boundaries of people I should befriend, and I did unjustifiably dismiss people who I thought were dismissable by arbitrary social standards I didn't even understand. And for what? After all, I was exactly the same type of arbitrarily dismissable person! I was a weird kid! Weird kids are not socially prestigious material!
It's strange how easily ingrained that arbitrary-social-boundary-drawing is. Seriously, where exactly are children getting it from? Answer’s probably obvious but I’m already going too long.
I think, it's a very important thing to unlearn. If not least because it's a source of very deep societal problems, it can also potentially be another thing that leads somebody into a situation of, "everybody speaks well of, and nobody cares about; whom all are delighted to see, and nobody remembers to talk to." Not because noone cares or wants to speak to them, but because they've arbitrarily blinded themselves to people who do! There will of course be Willoughbys and Mariannes who don't care about you and think little of you, but at the end of the day they're a minority, and in terms of social interaction they're really no different from every other Middleton who might genuinely care.
It's ironically a fate that will most likely to hit hardest a Marianne or Willoughby who falls from social grace. After all, if they lose whatever privilege of personality or appearance, wealth or youth that keeps them afloat, they'd have noone to care about them or to talk to! Just lots and lots of Middletons, or probably worse. And befriending those people would involve, gasp, lowering your social standards! Descending to the level of people whom you have implicitly thought to have been beneath you this whole time! And now you've become a Brandon, who is old, and most unfortunately boring, and who only interacts with the Middletons, who don't count.
What a terrible fate!
Final Thoughts:
So yeah, I think Willoughby was wrong, and also I think he's more than a little disdainful. He's definitely the kind of guy who has always had the luxury of arbitrarily making his choice of social affiliation, and has never had to challenge his prejudices. If he thinks nobody wants to talk to Brandon, well, on top of not being correct, he's also quite satisfied to play his own role in Brandon's perceived ostracisation. Not saying you are obligated to socialise with people whom you don’t have any interest in, but man, there’s no reason to do ‘em like that.
Wait, I've definitely used both the words pride and prejudice in this tangent. Hmm.
Anyway, making friends, and especially connecting with them, can be hard, but Brandon at least seems to be doing fine. The kids just have a superiority complex.
#Sense and Sensibility#Jane Austen#readthrough#novels#Colonel Brandon#john willoughby#Marianne Dashwood#but also if you need someone to talk to and care for a few minutes#you can send me a message#can't promise to stick around because i'm an internet voice with my own life to get to but sometimes you just need a little to scrape by#1700 words#yep i went long
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Thoughts About Star Trek Discovery 3x06, Trust is a Two Way Street
After reading the synopsis and seeing reactions to the episode I must admit to having trepidation going into the episode. I was hoping as is of the case that fandom was overreacting and my concerns would be allayed when I watched.
They were not.
First it must be acknowledged that the main plot of the episode feels extremely contrived. As a long time viewer of Star Trek similar conflicts have come up in previous shows without creating this type of contention and drama. In TNG Worf repeatedly left to pursue personal missions and other officers in Star Trek shows have done the same.
Usually they just request leave if it conflicts with their duty and the captain grants it. In Disco though, as is often the case with Disco situation like blow up into unnecessary dramas. So I am first and foremost disappointed that the characters were put into this contrived ass situation in the first place.
That said I think what happened was interesting and the writing choices left me hoping that this is actually going some place good, time will tell I suppose.
That out of the way here are my thoughts on the episode.
Saru Was Wrong
I want to start with Saru because he’s the captain, he’s the one with the rank and the power and therefore he is the one whose responsible. Saru was wrong Michael was wrong too but Saru’s error in some way is actually more important even though it seems smaller at first blush.
First let’s go back a moment to season 2. When Saru is on his death bed he asks Michael to attend him and cut off his ganglia. She’s hesitant and emotionally overwhelmed in the situation but he reassures her that it’s the right thing to do and even goes so far as to call her his sister.
So what happens when this sister goes to herself proclaimed brother with a problem? He shuts her down without a moment’s hesitation or consideration. Never mind that this man is important to her, never mind that he maybe got into trouble trying to help her with something that would benefit Starfleet and The Federation, nope fuck all that. Nope fuck all that, fuck everything we been through gotta impress this admiral.
Now look I get it when you’re in the military you follow orders, but when you’re promoted to a leadership position you also have to think about the well being of your crew as well as cultivate the discernment to know what to know what is of value and what should be dismissed. The admiral himself pointed out that Saru should have brought it to him and chastised Saru for behaving like an automaton and blindly following orders.
All that said two wrongs don’t make a right.
As annoyed as I was with Saru I was also somewhat annoyed with Michael who also didn’t bother to exercise any other options or even trying to convince Saru otherwise. Honestly my irritation with this choice for her goes all the way back to s1. If you’re in an organization like this you don’t go outside the chain of command you work within it. She cares about Book and was obviously feeling a sense of urgency given that it took the ship three weeks to reach Discovery but she could have taken 30 minutes to try and exercise some other options, first trying to convince Saru, second she could have just gone over his head.
I’m not going to go too far on this because most people can see where Michael was wrong.
With Friends Like These...
Tilly bothered me tremendously in this episode. I can’t help it, she just did. Someone pointed out in another discussion that Tilly’s thinking as community minded and it get that but it’s still not sitting well with me largely because of the focus on impressing this admiral --a new and unknown individual-- over someone you know and up until this point have trusted. It’s vaguely icky and puts me in mind of both Tilly and Saru’s behavior in season one.
And one really has to question themselves when a Terran is a better friend than you..
I’m not gonna go through the whole episode. I enjoyed the stuff with Book, especially when Michael and Book were gazing into each other’s eyes that was wonderful, the kiss, though. Sonequa really didn’t want to kiss that dude, dang. haha...
Facing the Music
Once everything is settled Michael presents the black box to Saru and the two of them meet with Admiral Vance. The meeting is short and more or less as expected with Admiral Vance letting Michael chastise herself. However what jumps out at me in this scene is the way the admiral chastises Saru, questioning why he didn’t bring the mission to him and challenging Saru to be more than a mindless automaton.
Saru then proceeds to chastise Michael and temporarily relieve her of her command duties. The thing that stands out to me in Saru’s dialogue is that though he reflects that he erred in the situation he does not see that he erred in how he related to Michael instead he seems to question if he erred in asking her to serve as first officer in the first place. He dismisses the suggestion that perhaps he handled the situation poorly in the first place.
This episode is in truth more telling about Saru as captain than it is about Michael as a person or a Starfleet officer. Michael as always choses the action that she deems to help the most people and harm the least.
Saru and Michael together could be a great command team but Saru is either unwilling or unable to accept that he and Michael have complimentary strengths and weakness. For example Saru couldn’t figure out how to speak up to the admiral to keep the Disco crew together, it was Michael who challenged the admiral on that and rightfully so.
This is why I said trust is a two way street. Michael was wrong but why should she trust Saru to have her back when so far hasn’t demonstrated that he does. When she needs something from him impressing the admiral is more important.
It’s difficult to see where the narrative is going with this. In 3x03 we see a Michael who is questioning where she belongs, in 3x06 we come back to this question. In a reddit discussion someone questioned why Admiral Vance would even suggests that Saru erred in front of Michael since she’s his subordiante.
It did make me wonder if that was poor writing or something else. One thing that occurs to me is that Vance is actually evaluating both of them as captain. For Starfleet in the 32nd century Discovery is a valuable asset, if a crew of randos from the 23rd century appeared from nowhere I’d certainly be doubting if I trusted them and if I wanted to leave something as valuable as that ship with its 23rd century crew tbh.
If I found out the captain of that ship was an acting captain, who’d assumed command after serving as first officer under a Terran and then a captain for all of two years idk if I’d be satisfied that this person was actually ready to be captain. I think Michael’s mutiny was struck from the record so if he doesn’t have that info I could easily see him evaluating her for the position just as well especially since she seems more confident, assertive, thoughtful and creative.
It would be interesting if this ultimately somehow leads to Michael being made captain at the end of this season. I’m not convinced that is where this is going but this rift has to be healed for the show to move forward and I don’t think this contrived plot was created just to pile on Michael again, at least I hope not. That theme is old, tired and should be over with.
Overall I’d put this as the weakest episode of the season and while I am annoyed with the contrived plot I’ll be reserving judgement until the full storyline unfolds.
@michaelburnhamfanclub
#Star Trek Disco#Michael Burnham#Captain Saru#Sylvia Tilly#Cleveland Booker#Grudge#also fuck tilly#fuck her right in the ear
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Liberation
Chapter 1: An Unexpected Companion
Author’s Note: Okay! A lot of things to discuss in this note so pay attention!
First...Yay! The new series is officially here! I am so excited to see what you guys think, and I am even more excited to see where this series goes. This series will follow the TV show somewhat but will also, obviously, be a bit different. This part takes place before and during episode one.
secondly, I took a glance at my follower count earlier today and you guys...I hit and surpassed 1,000 followers!! I am BEYOND grateful for each end every one of you guys. You encourage me to continue to do what i enjoy doing and am passionate about! I am so so so appreciative of all your kind messages over the course of this blog and these series. You guys ROCK! I may try and do like a little special thing for 1,000 followers, because this is a huge achievement for me. Thank you all again, and as always i love to hear what you all think. Enjoy it!
Word Count: 3.1k (whoops)
Warnings: Cursing, Drinking.
Chapters: Prologue, One (here), Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight
////
You immediately spotted the client as you and the Mandalorian entered the large room, you also took note of the four guards stationed several feet away. The client, a dark-skinned man with silk robes and large rings adorning every finger, sat up straighter in his chair taking in the sight before him. He took note of the asset still held firmly by your hand before looking you up and down and letting out a loud laugh.
“Well it looks like you had a good time finding my old friend Bora, here” he said gesturing from your filthy form to the man standing next to you.
You narrowed your eyes, a scowl settling on your face, “Well he’s here, so where are my credits?” you spit.
The man just lets out another laugh clearly amused at your behavior but brings out a small bag of credits dumping them on the table. Once you quickly made sure the correct amount was present you roughly shoved the bounty into the arms of a nearby guard. You quickly swiped the credits from the counter and put them back in the bag, before turning on your heel and walking to the door. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw the Mandalorian flinch and reach for his blaster as you started to leave, apparently worried you would try to run with the money.
“Don’t worry,” you assure as he follows behind you and out of the building, “You’ll get your credits. I just wanted to get out of there.”
“Did you even check to make sure he paid the promise amount?” the Mandalorian asked snidely.
You turn to him and send him a harsh glare, “Yes I checked.” You bite, “I’m not as stupid as you seem to think I am.”
He turns to you fully now and tilts his head down slightly before returning to look at you, “Your appearance would say otherwise,” He deadpanned.
You felt the blood rush to your face, angry at his dismissive tone and snarky comments. you grip the bag of credits tighter in your hand, “Fuck you! I don’t even have to give these credits if I don’t want too, and right now you are testing my generosity,” You bite.
You see the man subtly move his hand to hover over his blaster, “I’m getting the credits we agreed upon,” he paused looking at you in silence for a moment, “one way or another.”
You both stood there facing one another in a silent face off. Your chest still heaving in frustration, and you considered your options. Run and get shot. Fight back and get shot. Give him what you promised and hopefully not get shot. The man in front of you seemed to be able to read your thoughts because he tilted his head to the side slightly.
“Well,” the low modulated voice, “What’s it going to be?”
You contemplated running again before letting out an indignant huff and begrudgingly dug out your share, and maybe a tad bit more, of credits from the bag before tossing his share to him. He swiftly catches it before dumping its contents into his other hand. You watch as he counts them before looking back to you and clearing his throat expectantly.
You roll your eyes, “you can’t blame me for trying,” you pout before flipping him the extra one hundred credits you swiped.
He caught that one just as easily as the rest before returning them to the bag and pocketing it, giving you a satisfied nod. You clutch your share in your hand before looking over your shoulder at the bustling market.
“I’ll go get my supplies and then meet you at the shipyard in…” you trailed off.
“at sunset,” he fills in before turning to go pay the mechanic, “And clean up before then. I don’t want you tracking that stuff in my ship,” he tosses over his shoulder.
“whatever,” you silently flip him the bird behind his back, smiling when he doesn’t notice, “I’ll see you later.”
He doesn’t say anything as you both part ways.
////
You sit in the local cantina, loud music filling the air as you slowly nurse a dark amber drink you didn’t bother to remember the name of. You had been alternating between sipping the drink and pressing the cool glass to the area just above your right brow, a nasty bruise already starting to form from the blow a rival bounty hunter gave you. You had already gotten the supplies you needed, consisting of some tools and parts to maintenance your blaster as well as enough ration portions to last several weeks - you even had some credits left over. You had also done as the Mandalorian asked and found a place to clean up. Your clothes were a lost cause, so you opted into buying a new set before cleaning up, washing your armor, and then heading to the cantina you now sat into waste time until sunset. The sudden halt of the music and hushing of the crowd brought you back to the present. You cast a glance to the spot where everyone else was looking and saw none other than your armored escort making his way through the parting crowd to where you sat. You didn’t say anything as he came to stand next to you, looking down at you as you took a sip of the drink in your hand, grimacing slightly at the burning sensation.
“Are you even old enough to drink?”
You set your glass down on the countertop harder than you meant to and glared up at the man above you, “Yes, I’m old enough to have a fucking drink. Why do you have to be so goddamn condescending all the time?” you frown as you return the glass to your face, desperate for some relief from the throbbing in your head.
“It’s time to go,” he states plainly, offering no explanation for his behavior.
“Can I not finish my drink?” you ask sarcastically.
“Do you want me to take you somewhere or not?”
You huff and roll you eyes before downing the rest of your drink and stand up pulling a backpack over your shoulder as you gesture towards the door and bow mockingly.
“Lead the way O’ Mighty Mandalore,” a mocking smile on your face.
He just lets out a scoff as he brushes past you and out the door of the cantina with you following closely behind.
You both walked in silence back to the shipyard, the only sound being your footsteps on the ground and the quiet conversations of citizens passing by you. You followed a few steps behind the armored man not wanting to intrude on his personal space. He doesn’t seem to be the type that’s too fond of people. As you finally round the corner to the shipyard, you let out a low whistle as you see the Mandalorian make a beeline towards a large, sleek Razor Crest.
“Nice ride,” you say as you walk up to the ship and run your hand over the hull, “No wonder it cost so much to fix.”
The owner of the ship turns to face you after paying the mechanic, “It’s expensive to fix because it’s old,” he counters.
You drop your hand from said ship and look at him with a deadpan expression, “you could learn to take a compliment you know.”
He doesn’t respond, he just presses a button on his arm guard, and you watch as the ramp to the ship opens with a hiss and bursts of steam. The Mandalorian swiftly enters the ship and you follow, not wanting to get left behind. You take in your surrounds as the ramp closes behind you. It’s not a large space but enough to move around. There’s a locked compartment that you deduce holds weapons or valuables and then a row of carbonite containers, which you note are filled with frozen people. You shudder slightly as you think about the poor souls who had been trapped in there. While you’re new to the whole bounty hunter gig, you aren’t oblivious to the brutal tactics the more experienced hunters use to ensure they get paid. You frown slightly, wondering if you made the right choice in profession. You couldn’t see yourself doing that to another being, knowing that they feel the same things as you do.
“Are you coming?”
The increasingly familiar baritone voice brought you from your thoughts and you turned to see him halfway up a ladder leading to the top portion of the ship. You nod quickly and follow him up and into the cockpit of the ship. As he heads to the captains chair and starts up the engines you glance around the space and take it all in. you think the average person would be overwhelmed by the amount of buttons and switches, but your past ventures had made you very knowledgeable about ships and mechanics. While you couldn’t fly the ship well you could most likely fix anything that came up.
In your analysis of the ship you weren’t prepared for the sudden jolt as the Mandalorian lifted the shift from the ground. You stumbled slightly and grabbed onto the back of his chair to steady yourself before falling ungracefully into the chair to the right of the pilots seat. You grunt as you land in the chair and awkwardly pull your backpack out from behind you and toss it on the ground. The ship finally steadies as you leave the planets atmosphere and you take a moment to get more comfortable in your seat, looking to observe the man in frnt of you. You watch in silence as he locates a planet several systems away and sets the ship into hyper drive. He takes his hands from the control stick and fiddles with a few other switches before sitting back in his seat slightly, not completely relaxed but somewhat relaxed compared to his usual guarded stance. You take your gaze from the mysterious man and instead turn to look at the stars buzzing by in white and silver streaks.
“where are we going?” you ask quietly.
“Nevarro.”
You nod, he really is a man of very few words.
You both sit in silence for a while longer. You just staring out the window and occasionally watching The Mandalorian as he messes about with the control panel. You are almost startled when he speaks up.
“How old are you anyway? You seem a little young to be doing…this” he gestures vaguely around him, clearly referring to bounty hunting.
You shift in your seat to face him, “I’m nineteen...So old enough I suppose.”
He just hums quietly before flipping a few more switches.
“Why’d you pick Nevarro?” you ask, “It seems oddly specific.”
“That’s where I base out of,” he offers, not mentioning his clan, “And that’s where the main guild base is located.”
A deep scowl settles itself on your face at the mention of the guild, fuck those guys.
The man seems to notice your change in demeanor, “Got something against the guild?”
You shrug your shoulders, “I just tried to get in with them once but the guy that runs it…beef jerky or something – “
“Greef Karga?” the man corrects.
You snap your fingers, “Yeah him. He took one look at me and said ‘you are in the wrong place kid, we don’t usually take people so... green’,” you mock Greef’s voice as you recount his words, before slumping back in your seat, “Can you believe? He didn’t even give me a chance.” You say bitterly.
“He has a point,” he defends.
You bristle at his words and open your mouth to bite back but he beats you to it.
“You are inexperienced. And in this life inexperience will get you and those around you killed. He was right to turn you away.” He states finally.
You feel yourself deflate at his words. You knew he was right, logically it makes sense, but it still hurt to hear them, especially from someone so renowned. It hurt to know that you would probably never make it as a bounty hunter, not on your own anyways. You didn’t respond, too upset to come up with a snarky comment, something that the masked man took note of. He glanced discreetly at your form beside him and immediately noticed your forlorn disposition. He felt something stir inside him, and before he could stop himself, he spoke.
“I can help you. show you some pointers if you’d like,” he sees you immediately perk up at his words.
“You’d really do that?” but you narrowed your eyes slightly, “What’s the catch?” you asked skeptically.
“Any bounties we catch are split eighty-twenty.” He states firmly.
That actually wasn’t a terrible deal, especially since you would have transport while you were with him, plus the fact that a real life Mandalore would be teaching you pointers on how to be a bounty hunter. All you want to do is hug the man in front of you, but you restrain your self and instead settle for a large grin and excited nod, like a child that just found out they could get candy.
“That sounds great.” You finally get out, “Thank you.”
“Good, because we’re here,” the ship drops out of hyper drive as he speaks, and the planet comes into view.
Your leg bounces impatiently against the chair as you wait for the Mandalorian to land the ship and shut it down.
“okay let’s go,” before the words have even fully left his mouth you are out of your seat, blaster holstered at your side and dagger tucked securely in your belt, looking excitedly at the man before you.
“You need to calm down,” he states, “this whole,” he gestures to you, “excited kid persona doesn’t really fit with this crowd.”
You immediately understand and put on a serious face, straightening your posture, “okay, Is this better?”
You hear the man sigh before brushing past you and out of the ship, you take that as a yes. So you follow, beside him this time, as you both walk towards the cantina where most of the guild member spend their spare time and spare credits. As you enter the bustling building, it falls eerily quiet, just as the one on the last planet did.
So, this must be a regular thing for him, you think to yourself.
You follow the leader until you reach a table, occupied only by Greef Karga.
“Ah Mando,” Greef greets, watching as the Mandalorian sets four tracking fobs on the table, “That took longer than usual,” he comments.
“I ran into some problems,” the Mandalorian explains.
“I see,” finally Greef’s eyes fall to your figure standing behind the armored man, “and I assume it had something to do with this one. What did I tell you kid, you’ll cause nothing but problems.” He accused, directing the last bit at you.
you bared your teeth in a sneer and took a step forward, ready to slap that smirk right off his face, but Mando put his hand out to stop you.
“She’s with me.”
Greef tilts his head curiously, “I didn’t take you as the babysitting type Mando.”
“Not babysitting. She’s my partner.” Mando defends, “Now, where’s my payment?”
Greef casts one last curious glance at you before he fishes in his pocket for the credits. You and Mando take a seat across from him as he sets down three different colored pieces of metal, the imperial insignia stamped on the front.
Mando looks at Greef, “Those are imperial credits.”
“They still spend,” the guild leader argues.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard but the empires gone,” you pipe up.
Greef glares at you before sitting back, “It’s all I’ve got.”
You look between the two men and become concerned when Mando reaches for the fobs. What was he doing?
But Greef grabs his hand before he can leave with them, “Save the theatrics, fine I’ll…” he digs around in his pocket again and produces 3 white spherical items and sets them on the table, “I can do Calamari Flan…but I can only pay half.”
Mando seems to consider the offer before setting the fobs down and taking the flan from the table, “Fine. What pucks do you have?” he asks handing the flan to you.
You quickly tuck it into the small pouch attached to your belt as Greef starts pulling pucks from his bag.
“I have a bail jumper, a bail jumper, another bail jumper, a wanted smuggler – “
“I’ll take them all,” Mando interjects and your eyes widen in surprise. That was a lot of people to hunt down.
“No. hold on." Greef stops Mando from taking the pucks, “There are other members of the Guild, and this is all I have.”
“Why so slow?” Mando asks.
“Not slow, very busy actually.” Greef explains.
“Then what’s the problem?” you ask, confused at what was happening.
You feel Mando nudge you in the side harshly as Greef sends you another glare, he really doesn’t like you for some reason.
“They don’t want to pay guild rates, they don’t mind if things get sloppy.”
Mando looks a Greef for a moment, considering his options, “What’s your highest Bounty?”
“Not much…Five thousand?”
“That won’t even cover fuel these days,” Mando says, aggravation clear in his voice.
Greef hums thoughtfully then clicks his tongue, “Well there is one job,” he admits, seemingly hesitant.
“Where’s the puck?” you ask, trying to sound like you know what’s going on.
“No puck,” Greef tells you both, “Face to Face. Direct commission. Deep pockets.”
“Underworld?” Mando questions.
“All I know is no chain code,” he pulls a small card from his pocket, “do you want the chit or not?”
Mando pauses, and glances from you then back to the card briefly before taking the card from Greef and standing abruptly. You look from Greef to the retreating Mandalorian then back to Greef before scrambling to your feet to follow your partner.
But before you leave you turn to man still sitting at the table, “Am I still to green for you Greef?” you ask mockingly before turning to leave without waiting for a response.
You rush out of the cantina and collide into something cold and hard, and stumble back slightly, rubbing at the spot on your head.
“Watch where you’re going,” a familiar voice warns.
You smile sheepishly up at Mando and take a few steps back, looking up at him, “What was with all the cloak and dagger for that thing?” you point to the card in his hand, “It seems like it’s a big deal for a bounty to not have a puck,” you observe.
“It is,” he confirms, “It’s unusual to meet with a client face to face, at least through the guild.”
You nod in understanding, “So…are we going to do it?”
Mando pauses for a moment, this is very unusual, and if someone is trying this hard to keep this bounty under wraps, it means it’s more dangerous. You had obviously never dealt with anything of this caliber, you could be a liability. But he had seen you fight off those bounty hunters, so you weren’t a complete liability. He looks at you one more time before nodding his head and pocketing the card.
“Let’s go.”
////
Tags: @tryn25 @igotmadskills @dizzydazed @mouseofmickey @therobinathome @lirinchi @x-wingwarriorbbpoe8
(Let me know if you would like to be tagged!)
#the mandalorian x reader#dyn jarren x reader#mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian#dyn jarren#star wars
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FEATURE: How Usopp the Liar Became a True Hero in One Piece
Hello everyone, and welcome to Why It Works. Over the past couple months, I’ve been powering through One Piece at breakneck speed, journeying from the early crew recruitment through the end of Enies’ Lobby. After my earlier attempts at breaking into the series sputtered out, I’m finally learning what so many fans already know: One Piece improves at an absurd rate over its first several arcs, polishing and expanding in basically every way a narrative can. Nowhere is that evolution more clear than in the journey of the Straw Hats’ most unlikely crewmate: Usopp the Liar.
When Usopp first entered the crew, I frankly found him pretty obnoxious. He appeared to be an icon of the kind of loud, slapstick comedy you frequently find in battle anime, which doesn’t have much appeal to me. Additionally, it was clear from the start that he couldn’t measure up to titans like Luffy or Zoro in terms of physical strength, and given his clownish disposition, I feared he was destined to be relegated to the peanut gallery — one of those characters who can only stand on the sidelines, cheering for the actual heroes to succeed.
As it turns out, while Usopp is a bit of a clown, he ultimately proved to more often play the opposite role. While Luffy, Zoro, or Sanji might happily engage in some ludicrous, death-defying shenanigans, Usopp could generally be found on Nami’s side, playing the straight man to their ridiculous ideas. The reason for that would neatly resolve my second concern — both One Piece and Usopp himself are perfectly aware of his own fragility. While many of the Straw Hats are superhumans enjoying a superhuman adventure, Usopp is a normal human on a superhuman adventure, with all the incessant peril that would involve.
The wildly uneven strengths of the Straw Hats is actually one of the more interesting things about One Piece. Not all of the Straw Hats are fighters; they’re first and foremost a ship’s crew, with several members more suited to maintenance or navigation than combat. Because of this, the non-combat-oriented crew members frequently have to find ways to contribute that avoid direct fighting. Over the first several arcs, Usopp offers sharpshooting, basic engineering, misdirection, and a profound talent for making friends with strange, dangerous creatures.
Rather than being a dramatic drawback, this uneven power distribution actually becomes one of One Piece’s signature strengths. With this need for dramatic flexibility baked into the very fundamentals of its cast dynamics, One Piece is essentially required to come up with conflicts more complicated than “all of our guys fight all of their guys,” offering far more narrative creativity and complexity than your average action property. At the same time, this imbalance also helps emphasize the scale of a world like One Piece, wherein a character like Usopp will perpetually be staring up at giants he could never hope to face.
Eventually, Usopp’s persistent efforts to prove his worth as a crewmate fall short, and he begins to internalize the futility of his situation. By the time the Straw Hats reach Water 7, their journeys have long since lost their original playfulness and even mightier monsters are looming on the horizon. His journey echoes that of the Going Merry itself; beaten and bruised, he no longer has the strength to match up with their challenges or the hope of ever being a “great warrior” like them. His ultimate goal is the point they’re starting from, as they gaze toward challenges he could never even imagine. And thus, when Luffy makes his well-intended but deeply misguided speech about abandoning the Merry, Usopp explodes.
Usopp clearly loves the Merry, even more so than any other member of the Straw Hats. They essentially “joined the crew” at the same time, and the ship had been not just his friend, but also perhaps his most essential role within the crew. Though Usopp was not a shipwright, he took maintaining the ship as a clear point of pride, something that was usually all too rare on their journeys.
But more than his feelings about the Merry itself, Usopp personally relates to the Merry. He sees himself in their ship — a creaky, amusing companion who’s journeyed with them this far, but simply doesn’t possess the strength to help them any longer. Luffy’s dismissal of the Merry feels like a dismissal of him, and the anger of his own response reflects his understanding that Luffy is right. Usopp isn’t really strong enough for this journey anymore and doesn’t really have any skills they could not replace. He’s not an indispensable member of the Straw Hats, he’s just Usopp — and he suspects, if Luffy were willing to be as pragmatic about his crewmates as his ship, Luffy would likely toss him off too.
It’s a hard thing to come face to face with your own limitations like that, and harder still when the verdict comes from the person you respect the most. Usopp does not accept this situation with dignity; he rages against it, blaming Luffy for his callousness, and literally fighting his captain to prove he can measure up in this world. Given his admitted understanding of both his and the Going Merry’s limits, you could perhaps consider this his way of saying goodbye — of giving the crew an excuse to leave him by leaving first and thus taking the blame upon himself. So certain of his inadequacy, perhaps this is the only way he thinks he can still help the Straw Hats.
But ultimately, fate intervenes. Captured first by Franky’s family, and then by the World Government, Usopp finds himself taking part in the Straw Hats’ next adventure in spite of himself. Though he truly believes he is not strong or brave enough to be a Straw Hat anymore, he no longer has the choice to abandon their adventure. And so, Usopp defends himself the only way he can, by employing a power he’s been cultivating since his very first episode.
Usopp lies. He has always been a teller of tall tales, bragging of the foes he’s bested and giants he’s befriended — but now, surging across the tempestuous seas of the grand line, he is in a world of true giants. In order to believe he belongs here, he lies — both to his crewmates and to himself. He puts on a pointed mask and dons the mantle of Sniper King, the hero of countless battles, whose brave feats on Sniper Island and legions of followers mark him as a clear equal of the Straw Hats.
Usopp might not be strong enough to be a Straw Hat, but Sniper King can be. After all, Sniper King is as strong as Usopp says he is. Usopp uses his signature talent to ultimately fool himself, proclaiming himself strong and brave, and through doing so forcing himself to embody those qualities. If his conflict is a crisis of faith, then he just needs a new symbol to believe in. Usopp might not truly be on par with the other Straw Hats, but if he can force himself to believe he is, then perhaps the difference is negligible.
Having given himself permission to believe he is Straw Hat material, Sniper King goes on to prove that he really is Straw Hat material. Not with his combat strengths — among the Straw Hats, he alone doesn’t defeat a member of CP9. Instead, he chips in with all the strengths he’s been cultivating so far, the various oddball strengths that nonetheless add up to an essential teammate. His upgrades to Nami’s weapon allow her to win multiple battles. His kind and courageous heart win him the friendship of the Lobby’s own giant protectors. His genuinely formidable sniping abilities keep Robin safe. In the end, his passionate faith in his captain and ability to boast of greatness even in the face of certain death gives Luffy the last, vital push to secure victory.
Usopp demonstrates that whatever our natural talents, we are as indispensable as we choose to be. Through his journey, he not only expands One Piece’s dramatic horizons but also illustrates something essential about the nature of bravery and how we construct our self-image. I could easily relate to that sharp terror of not measuring up to my peers and the ways that optimistic lies can help us through impossible circumstances. Usopp embodies the difficulty of believing in yourself, and his journey feels all the more meaningful for just how difficult it was and how great the distance between him and his friends. He’s a remarkably compelling hero and my favorite Straw Hat so far.
Nick Creamer has been writing about cartoons for too many years now and is always ready to cry about Madoka. You can find more of his work at his blog Wrong Every Time, or follow him on Twitter.
Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!
By: Nick Creamer
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Liveblog: Rewatching Trigun, Episode 20
Surprise, this blog series continues! I have no intention of letting it end at episode 19. (I mean, that’s not even a nice round number!) While these aren’t liveblogs any more, they still give me an opportunity to discuss meta.
Life lesson learned: once you start a series of anything, do not stop until it’s finished--no matter what other projects come up, no matter how shiny they are, and no matter how much you’re dreading watching episode 23. Since I do my best work when feeling inspired, I hate to wait and let my enthusiasm for the new project cool, but jumping ship only ends in two unfinished projects instead of one.
This is going to be arranged by theme, not so much chronologically. Also, it ended up being more about Wolfwood than originally intended. Including a spoiler, so be careful.
Millie’s Transmitter
Millie reports that the Chief of Bernadelli gave her a transmitter/tracking device, which must be a rare, valuable piece of technology -- to prevent anyone from outwitting her. Meryl replies that this is nothing to brag about. I disagree.
First of all, the chief cares about her enough to entrust her with this bragworthy technology. She must have earned his trust and good opinion, also an achievement. He could easily punish or fire her, but instead gives her a tool to perform better. Countless people with learning disabilities dream of bosses like this.
People tend to take a harmful all-or-nothing attitude towards disabilities. Either PWD are incapable of doing things and nothing can be done about it, or they are capable of doing things, and shouldn’t need help. Since people with disabilities themselves live in society, they end up indoctrinated and taking the same attitudes towards themselves. Shame and self-hatred often result. People strive for years, often with therapy, to get to the matter of fact acceptance Millie shows here.
***
Vash in Hell
Everything is red, from the beginning. The sand, himself and his clothes, the sky. Knives comes into view, blurry and mostly in shadow, only one eye visible. What looks like meteors, probably chunks from the ships, fall through the sky like rain. We’re seeing from Vash’s point of view.
When waking Vash, Knives’ voice is normal, sounding like a real child. It doesn’t change to his growly evil voice until Vash accuses him of being a murderer. Then, his eye loses its pupil, and he suddenly appears to have fangs. He looks like he’s become some sort of monster. Not human, as Vash says.
Knives beats him up for even daring to compare him to a human. What hurts the most about this is you know it’ll be a long time, and probably many more such beatings, before Vash leaves.
Was it ever possible to take care of Knives? Was Rem’s last request reasonable?
Vash announces he’s finally ready to face Knives. What impresses me most: he’s finally making a significant decision for himself.
***
Meet the Folks
How is Vash more attractive in normal clothes than his signature coat, even in scenes showing only his face? Speaking of which, this episode is full of beautiful shots of Vash’s face. Wolfwood’s, too.
How the hell did Wolfwood get here? He said he was concerned about Vash crying then jumping off a cliff, and followed him. However, he seems to have climbed up from below. How would he have found a floating platform? Certainly, none is visible below him. And since he seems to know nothing about the flying ship, he can’t have taken Vash’s strategy and jumped onto a platform at just the right time.
“Come meet the folks!” Yes, they actually do have a summer cottage in the sky. Ever wonder why Vash’s head is always in the clouds? ;)
Wolfwood actually says “I’m getting sick of your lies.” Hypocritical much?
Wolfwood is the first guest Vash has brought “home” in over 20 years (in other words, since he became The Stampede)!
Does that mean that the whole time Vash has been on the run, he hasn’t visited the SEEDS ship (probably to prevent anyone tracking him from discovering it)? Vash could have simply hid out for the last 20 years in the SEEDS ship; it’s his home, after all. Instead, he chose to go out and protect people from Knives, and each other. (How many of us would have made the same choice?)
***
Inside Legato’s Lair
What does this informant know about Chapel’s duties? From the way Legato dismisses his concerns, it seems like Knives’ followers aren’t given much information about each other.
Wolfwood is now doomed. “You’re such a fool. Had you behaved, you might have lived to see Doomsday. But I’m pleased, for I now have the opportunity to carry out another of my master’s wishes.”
A surprisingly restrained evil chuckle from Legato. Thank you for sparing us a full-on villain laugh.
How does Legato get shoulder padding that sticks out that far? Each shoulder is almost twice as big as his head.
***
A Series of Awkward Events
The ship has a whole observation team. No one should be able to get up here without the SEEDS leaders knowing, right? Right? ...
The old man tells Brad Vash has changed over the years. How?
After all this buildup, Brad opens the door, letting in blinding light, and this is what he sees:
The legend acting like an idiot and getting his butt kicked. Very dignified.
This is Brad’s reaction:
“Is that your great legend?! Huh?!” “What a relief! He hasn’t changed at all.” (A relief? What were they afraid would have happened to him?)
Brad is not amused by Wolfwood’s touchy-feely ways.
“Who’s he?” Vash, looking embarrassed: “I’m not sure.” Fair enough, but not very helpful, and Wolfwood doesn’t elaborate. We already know and love Vash’s embarrassed grin, but I can’t get over Wolfwood’s almost sinister smile in the mirror.
A cute moment where Vash looks back like, “isn’t my place great?” and Wolfwood just gapes like an idiot. (Close your mouth, my dude. Flies are gonna get in).
Vash last visited about 20 years ago, and Jessica was a small child then, so she should be about 23 or 24. However, she looks and acts like a teenager. Vash inadvertently becomes part of an unwanted love triangle.
To his credit, Vash tries to put her off, in a joking way (”I have a reputation for being easy but even I need a bit of advance warning”). Wolfwood makes the whole situation worse by teasing Vash about his “girlfriend” in front of a fuming Brad. It’s as if he were going out of his way to antagonize the people on the ship.
When Vash actually has a chance to look at Jessica’s face, he remembers her. Think about that. He may only have met her once, it’s been 20 years, and he still recognizes her and remembers her name. How many other people does he remember from the past ~130 years? This is how he uses his powerful plant brain--Knives would view it as a waste.
Jessica cooks a feast for Vash, which, tragically, he won’t get to enjoy. How did she cook all this food so fast? It’s enough to feed the whole ship.
***
Wolfwood is mistrusted for the wrong reasons
Wolfwood actually takes off his shades and armor of acting like a jerk while introducing himself to Jessica. This is unusually open and vulnerable of him. He actually is trying to behave. But Brad, worried about “a bunch of outsiders” bringing war to their flying paradise, hits him where it hurts.
...Did I mention Wolfwood has beautiful eyes?
Anyway, everyone gathers around staring at Wolfwood from a distance, while he drops cigarettes on the ground. There’s an entire pile lying at his feet. The whole scene is the definition of passive aggressive.
What seems to anger Wolfwood is not so much how they treat him personally, but their denial combined with moral superiority. Not to push a metaphor too far, but these folks are able to take the moral high horse because their literal high position keeps them safe. Yet, they use this immense privilege not to help the world below, or to prepare for the ship’s inevitable fall, but to hide in their castle in the sky. It clicks for me that Wolfwood probably feels about running away the way Vash does about suicide (think back to episode 11).
The SEEDS dwellers do not seem to understand that Wolfwood is both trying to help them and a little resentful of what they have. To them, he is everything they’ve been taught to fear and hate, up here poisoning Paradise for them with his unpleasant ideas. Of course this sort of dynamic never happens in real life.
Also, keep in mind that none of them know anything about the people below directly, only from hearsay. They’re not wrong about Gunsmoke as a whole, but they treat Wolfwood like a monster rather than a person. That also never happens in real life.
Then he gets to the scene of a crime too late--but just in time to look like the one responsible. Although the ship dwellers would love to see him dead, he leaps to defend them against his own colleague. Knowing, perhaps, that doing this would confirm he switched sides, and his own days might be numbered. He doesn’t even pause to think, he just goes, the same way he did when the child went missing in episode 9.
***
Vash Will Save The Day
“Like you care. Five years is probably like a blink of the eye to you anyway.” Vash denies it, but the second part is probably true. He looks so surprised to hear it’s been five years.
It can’t be easy for Vash to admit that he was responsible for the “Fifth Moon Incident,” and is probably more dangerous than Knives. Once again, his only argument is “please.” But there’s no buffoonery or melodrama here. He’s dead serious, and that’s more convincing.
Wolfwood tries to stop Leonoff from saying his name. No one who would understand the significance or matters to him is present, just Brad and Jessica. Is he merely afraid others will hear? Does he still consider himself to be Chapel?
Even facing Leonoff, Wolfwood still hasn’t put his shades back on.
Now imagine if Vash managed to find ways out of no-win situations and save the day without all the whining and crying.
Wolfwood can pause and wait for once, having faith that Vash will show up. He knows there’s always a third option for Vash. He does not yet see any for himself. Still, progress nonetheless.
***
Unfortunately for me, Vash is back with his red coat in Vash the Stampede mode, yellow glasses hiding his face.
OK, I can see how Leonoff’s puppets get into the ship without being noticed, but how on Earth did the big guy even get here?
#liveblog#liveblogging#trigun anime#trigun#millie thompson#meryl stryfe#vash the stampede#nicholas d. wolfwood#seeds ship#legato bluesummers#gung ho guns#leonoff the puppet master#character analysis#meta#brad and jessica#love and peace#ethics#faith
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“Cass has no canonical interest in men.”
Does she? This post is not to bash anyone who disagrees. Nor is it to promote any sort of homophobia. I believe all healthy ships are valid and disapprove of ship hate and shipping wars. This is merely to posit a different opinion. If you do not wish to read, you are welcome to ignore this post.
People say Cass has “no canonical interest in men,” but if you think about it, the few men that she actually knows mostly are on tease / play fight level with her. Eugene and Lance aren’t “sweet and fluffy” to Cass. They’re snarky and goofy around her which annoys her. She’s never known anyone other than Rapunzel who is so wholesome and warm towards her.
Most of the men we have seen Cassandra interact with on screen (save for elders and authorities such as King Frederic, her father Cap, and Uncle Monty) have been either obnoxious and loud in her eyes (Eugene and Lance and Hookfoot), or have been hostile and demeaning to her (various ruffians and Hector).
To Cassandra, most of the men she has ever truly interacted with have been annoying or immature. (This may or may not also be off the fact that she had grown up with her father’s prejudice towards criminals.)
This is not to paint Cassandra as prejudiced against all men. She has grown to tolerate Lance, Eugene, and Hookfoot. That is clear. But she is just easily irritated by immature, juvenile people. Going off of what little the Series has provided us about Cassandra’s past, we can assume that she never had many friends to grow up with—male or female. She is still on the road to learning about opening up to people. Everyone she knew in Corona were just the beginning of that journey.
Cassandra has a liking towards the sweeter, softer, more wholesome and gentle ones. Rapunzel fits that category quite easily. However, there is another individual Cass knows who also fits that category—one who has been compared to and shares many characteristics with Rapunzel: Varian.
Since the start, Varian has been portrayed and almost universally received as an endearing, friendly, and soft individual. Four moments when his openness and concern for others shine most are in “Great Expotations” when he listens to and understands Cassandra’s desire to please her father, in “Rapunzel’s Return” when he admits his error and desire to make amends with Rapunzel, and in “Be Very Afraid” when he opens up to Rapunzel about his remorse and fears of his past, as well as listening to and comforting Rapunzel when she talks about her own fears of losing Cassandra. The final, most poignant instance of Varian’s kindness is in “Cassandra’s Revenge” when he begs Cassandra to reconsider her choices. It is one of his best moments: when he throws down his own shame and turmoil in an effort to show his friend that she is not alone and that she was in danger of losing herself as well as the everything she loved.
Cassarian shippers do not ship them out of contempt or denial of the possibility of Cassandra’s interest in Rapunzel or other women. We ship her with Varian when he is older because he is remarkably kind and gentle and overall sweet to everyone. He has that kind and loving smile just like Rapunzel has. Yes he is dorky and clumsy and impulsive sometimes, but he does not carry that suaveness or flirting personality as Eugene, Lance, or Andrew have. He tries to charm her once before but he never tries to puff himself up or “flex” himself to her.
Cassarian shippers see Varian as being the adorable, playful, unassuming, and helpful yet bold, righteous, mature, courageous, and curious young man he will be by the time Cassandra does return to Corona. Cassandra’s sharp, sassy nature will not be competitively butting heads with another sharp, sassy nature. Rather, she will meet a nature that is forgiving and patient while still not being malleable or breakable.
Cassandra is like Eugene—quick on the draw, cunning, and competitive but not abusive. Varian is like Rapunzel—patient, understanding, and eager to help others but never easy to take advantage of.
Once again, this is not to shame or start a fight with anyone. This is merely to put forth my very own opinion. I am open to criticism and debate whether publicly, privately, or anonymously.
Dominus vobiscum,
Polymath.
ADDENDUM
I think overall Cass just is attracted to softer and more sincere people.
Though she and Eugene bite at each other, she does show a certain bit of care to him when he is being truly humble. Like when she saw that he was genuinely hurt that Cap kept dismissing Eugene’s skills to be a guard. She actually reached out to him. When Eugene set off to look for Frederick and Arianna, she didn’t roll her eyes or anything. She admitted that even she was hoping he would pull through.
And never once when Rapunzel is having doubts about Eugene does she take it as an opportunity to chat it up with Rapunzel. I think Cass genuinely loves Eugene and Rapunzel being together not just Rapunzel being happy. That’d just be selfish. She cares that yes Rapunzel is happy but also Rapunzel is happy with the right person.
Cassandra showed interest when she realized how “graceful” Lance could dance. And I speculate that if she saw Lance taking care of Angry and Catalina, she would’ve smiled, too.
Cass didn’t like Andrew for his smooth talk but for his faux sentimentality and penchant for books. And she kept the rose because she actually kinda liked going on a date and treating her nicely, even if it was just a ploy.
And she shows no interest in Varian at all during the series. However, she did feel for him when Quirin first appeared. She smiled when Varian actually understood her issues with her father. And when Varian first called her a friend. And finally when she realized just how sincere and honest he was about the expo and impressing her rather than throwing a fit, she saw that Varian wasn’t some annoying teenager trying to charm her. He actually had substance and depth.
Rapunzel overall is the sweetest person Cass has ever known. Her happiness and compassion is what Cass grew to love. She isn’t used to seeing such character in people, especially in most guys. There’s a light that goes off in Cass’ heart when she’s with Rapunzel, yes. But when she finds other people with real feelings and wholesomeness, too, that same light turns on.
#tangled the series#tts#varian#cassandra#rapunzel#rapunzel's tangled adventure#rta#cassarian#cassunzel#eugene fitzherbert#lance strongbow#hookfoot#andrew#poly’s poetic over analysis#polyspeaks#cassandra’s revenge#great expotations#be very afraid#rapunzel’s return
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