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#i wasn't expecting this show to be so rebels heavy
skyshipper · 8 months
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NATASHA LIU BORDIZZO as SABINE WREN - AHSOKA (2023)
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rapunzelbro · 2 months
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A Sacrifice for A friend Angel Dust x Reader Part 4
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I really experimented with this fic, it’s no where perfect. Angels pov won’t be for a while. It’s going to be angst hell. TW:Drugs, sex, usual hazbin hotel themes
Masterlist Taglist
1 2 2.5 3 3.5 4 5 6 Statement
The flashing lights, the deafening noise of the music that was playing at Valentino’s club, it was all a blur. Your vision was blurry, your head felt heavy, and your body ached.
One thing was certain, your video was a massive hit and Valentino wanted to celebrate. Hell had gone wild for ‘Vixie Stick’, you.
The days blurred together into a haze of sex, and drugs. Valentino seemed to enjoy showing you off, parading you around like a prized possession. You didn't mind the attention, really. It made you feel wanted, even if it was only for your body. And as much as you hated to admit it, there was something thrilling about being wanted by so many people.
But there was always a part of you that ached, that felt like something was missing. You couldn't quite place what it was, the feeling of cold, dark loneliness that crept up on you when you were alone in your bed, staring at the ceiling. You tried to ignore it, to focus on the bright lights and endless pleasure that your day brought, but it always found its way back.
One night, at another one of Valentino's parties, you spotted a pink and white Demon across the room. He was familiar, somehow. His face was etched with pain and sadness, but there was also an unmistakable gleam of determination in his eyes as he sat at the bar with another demon. You felt drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. You excused yourself from the table you were at, making your way through the crowded room until you were standing before him.
"Do I know you?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper. The man flinched before he stared back at you.
"Y/n" he said, his voice filled with a mix of awe and disbelief. "It's me. It's Angel." You searched his features, trying to find some familiarity, some sign that he wasn't just some stranger playing a cruel joke on you. But nothing clicked. You didn't know who he was.
“Who is Y/n? Do I know you?” You responded confused. Angel studied your face, taking in the confusion and uncertainty etched there. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice gentle. "I shouldn't have expected you to remember me toots.. I'm just... I'm so glad you're alive."
You felt a pang in your chest at his words. Something about the way he said it, the way he looked at you, made you believe him. And yet... you still couldn't quite place him. "Angel," you repeated, struggling to find the words. "I wish I could remember. I wish I knew who you were."
He reached out a hand, as if he wanted to touch you, but then pulled it back. "I understand," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I just.. was glad to see you"
You couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his story, that there was some connection between the two of you. But for now, you were too busy trying to keep up with everything else that was going on in your life, and the deal that trapped you with Valentino.
The party went on around you, the music getting louder, the people more drunk and rowdy. You found yourself slipping into the background, you turned away, even as your heart ached for the glimpse of familiarity you had been given.
The rest of the night passed in a blur of flashing lights and blurry faces. You danced, you drank, you did whatever Valentino told you to do. But your thoughts kept returning to Angel, and the strange connection you felt with him. It was as if some part of you recognized him, some deeper part that you hadn't known existed until now.
Why did he say Y/n?
Just like Valentino did..
Angel Dust tag list: @vendetta-ari @brithedemonspawn @satansmanager @storydays @saturnhas82moons @zamadness @fizziepopangel @saitisfied @the--rebel--fae @mcueveryday @rainbowbunny15 @molarloo @anxietycomments
Story Taglist: @apollobean @kaoyamamegami @kyriekurokami @ozzersauce @idontreallyexistyet
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ofstoriesandstardust · 7 months
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making the bed
note: i could go into HEAVY detail about this Rebel-era...literary analysis level...and i want to so badly but for fear of annoying people, i won't
summary: You got everything you were supposed to want and yet it wasn't enough.
like father, like daughter
warnings: allusions to sex if you squint, i don't really expect anyone to read this
word count: 759 words
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“I got the things I wanted/it’s just not what I imagined”
You swallow, staring at the plaque, shiny enough to show your reflecting face on it as you set it on the counter. 
It feels like you had gotten everything you were always told you would want and yet it never felt like enough. Never enough to bring your Dad home, never enough to feel like enough, never enough to fill the dull, aching hole in your chest that haunted your darkest nights. 
Proud of you kiddo. Wish I could be there. 
Your Dad’s words echo in your head as you sit down in an empty chair in the dark kitchen. 
You think he’s in Italy, and you hope the gorgeous city of Naples is keeping him entertained as he missed another one of his only daughter’s milestones. 
Your fingers gently trace over the engraved words of the plaque, swallowing down the guilt that arose every time you remembered what it took for you to earn it. 
Violet’s screams, the fire in his plane, the cold way he looked at you in the hospital afterwards. 
You push the plaque away from you, unwilling (or unable, you weren’t sure) to bear the memories any longer. 
-
“You know, dreams like that are supposed to mean that your life feels out of control.” 
You blink up at Giggles, another pilot from your squadron. You know she meant well, but she was young, still fresh-faced, and had hardly any experience with the harsh reality of being a pilot. 
She was inexperienced. 
You aren’t sure why you had shared with her the dream you’d had the night after the awards ceremony, the one where you had been driving, but unable to stop. You couldn’t even climb out of the car, escape from being stuck in an uncontrollable vehicle. 
“G, that’s stupid.” Ash (aptly named after his Pokemon fascination from his early days), the oldest pilot on the squad speaks up. “You sound stupid.” 
“No, I don’t!” She protests, and she’s really only missing a foot stomp that would otherwise allude to her childish nature. “I read about it in my AP Psychology class in high school. She probably feels like her life is out of control and she feels stuck, trapped in a place she’s unable to escape from.”
The squad members stare at her in silence. Comet, whose arm is draped around your shoulder, gapes at her, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 
It isn’t long before she cowers back. 
“Or not?” 
Ash snorts. “Or not.”
-
The alcohol from the night out makes you feel warm as Comet’s nose nudges your cheeks as the two of you lay there in the dark. 
“Can you believe Giggles said that tonight?” 
You force yourself to huff, feigning a laugh. “Yeah, it was stupid.” 
“I meant to ask you, how was the ceremony?” 
You shrug, hoping it’s dark enough he doesn’t see your frown. “Fine.” You think of the postcard in your bedside drawer, the calls you’ve been avoiding, the unanswered letters. “It was… fine.” 
He hums, shifting on the bed. 
Your throat feels dry as you look at him. You can see the outline of his body, as you try to remember the way his face looks. You try to think of the mole on the middle of his cheek, the way he has a scar through his left eyebrow from a training accident. 
“I love you.” You whisper. 
The words make you feel hollow. 
You feel him smile from where lips are placed on your bare collarbone. 
“I love you.” He whispers back. “I love you so much.”
The tone he uses makes you feel sick, like you’re something he’s in awe of, like you’re something to be seen and won, not like he means any of the words. 
Not that you do either, really. 
You reach up, running a hand through his sweaty hair as his lips trail back up your neck to your jaw to your lips. 
“C’mon, killer, let’s get some sleep.” He says, rolling back off your body. 
You swallow, looking up at the ceiling, thankful the dark hides the glassiness of your eyes. It’s not long before Comet’s soft snores fill the room, his arm going loose around your waist. 
You pull the sheets up over your head, willing yourself not to cry and wake up the boy beside you. 
She probably feels like her life is out of control and she feels stuck, trapped in a place she’s unable to escape from.
If only she knew.
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Hunger Games & Descendants crossover
Aka me showing Descendants characters into vaguely hunger games setting because it sparks joy. Keeping one (1) Hunger Games character: Ceasar Flickerman, for the reason that Descendants Verse moderator (Snow White) would faint within a minute of having to share a stage with exhibitionistic pirates.
Also. Haymitch. I feel like he and Harriet & James Hook should meet.
Anyway.
(I hope you don't expect any plot)
The Hooks are the Fourth District. The sea side one. Uma, too, and the Smees.
James Hook is a Victor long past, and he lost a hand in his games. He had it replaced by a hook, because he's committing to the bit. Drama queen. He's a Capitol favourite and still very much haunted by the children he fought in his arena. (He's so perfect for this au, I can't)
Harriet is also a Victor, from two years prior.
She volunteered and didn't have a good time ever since. (Didn't have a good time ever ✨)
She didn't lose a hand. This does not stop the Capitol from styling her with a hook.
Both of them are rather heavy alcoholics by this point.
Harriet was a difficult Victor. Stubborn and way too happy to speak her mind. It took Capitol pointing at her siblings and going „If you don't shut up, they'll be next“ to get her to cooperate.
She shut up. She was not happy about it but she's not letting her siblings die in the arena – or otherwise.
Either way, after her, the Capitol needed a Good Victor (tm). They found their Victor in Claudine Frollo, a brainwashed career from District One.
She was ready to lie on her knife for her (District) people rebelling against the Capitol, but her Games were pretty heavily rigged. She was not allowed near sharp things by the gamemakers.
Her trauma from the arena is unsurprisingly not helping. Claudine gets unresponsive for huge amounts of time, and she's still not allowed near sharp things.
„You were raised in a fucking cult!“ „...oh.“ This conversation between Harriet and Claudine definitely happens. Harriet is this close to snapping at Claudine at live TV.
Either way, deal somewhat holds, right? Younger Hook siblings are not reaped.
... wouldn't be the Hooks if there wasn't more chaos, okay?
Next year, Uma is reaped, and there is no way Harry is letting her go alone. He volunteers before the boys are even reaped, threatening murder to career girls who didn't take Uma's place and career boys who would take his in the same breath.
This flies, because Capitol lives for drama.
Also, surprisingly, Uma's reaping wasn't rigged. And even if it was, she was not a part of any deal.
Ursula was an actress, a singer, dragged to Capitol from District four and tossed back when they got bored; when she got too old or otherwise unsuitable. She blames Uma for this. Her most famous role was that of a Sea Witch because Why Not.
Uma wasn't a career, but Harry was. He didn't graduate yet, and his older sister insisted he doesn't volunteer.
Anyway. Since this is AU, I feel like it should be possible for the Games to have multiple Victors if the people like them enough.
It's not something common, but it can happen. It has happened before.
Mulan and Shang pulled it off. Mulan while posing as her brother or male cousin all the while. It was one of the earlier games, but people loved it. (Consequently, their son got reaped the year before Harriet. Pure coincidence, you see. He survived, though.)
The other people winning together were Raya and Namaari, because I said so. They had no children for reasons called "they're lesbians, your honour."
And Uma and Harry are gonna win together too because this is MY self-indulgent AU with zero actual plot.
They're having way too much fun on the stage. Survival instinct (the bit that Uma has) gets overshadowed by the need to a) shock as much people as possible and b) drama✨
They end up making out at the tribute interview. Ceasar is having the time of his life. He hasn't had this interesting tributes since Harriet Hook and Ivy de Vil.
(they obviously make out at the Victors interview too)
De Vils now, yeah?
Third district. Technology, for Carlos. They're inovators, the driving force.
Cruella, much like Hook, is a victor of long past. She went mad in her Games. Her victor talent is fashion, obviously, and Capitol has no problems with the more unethical aspects of her designs.
Her reaping-age relatives have the unfortunate tendency to, well, get reaped. She lost a brother, two nephews and a niece this way.
You see, de Vils are rebels. They need to stand out, they need to be heard. (Much like Hooks, but in better clothes, thank you for asking.)
Ivy was the last one reaped. Now, she knew her odds – one in twenty four and worse yet. The Capitol is not letting a de Vil win again.
Consequently, she might have started riot on her tribute interview. I mean, what are they gonna do? Kill her?
Yeah, I thought so.
I'm getting lost, aren't I.
Tremaines. Officers family from District Eight that thinks themselves way too important (they really aren't). All accusations of Anthony's reaping being rigged will be denied.
Anthony is in the same games as Uma and Harry because Drama.
His stylist is Audrey Rose who got caught high in public one too many times. But hey. They're vibing. Also, this conversation:
Anthony, talking about Harriet: "... she's just so pretty-“
Audrey, an aro ace, just trying to do her job: „...I suppose? She could use to wear something different than the red, and a bit less eyeliner...“
(Ginny, barging in: „YES SHE IS.“)
(I'm projecting on Audrey and you cannot stop me.) (She isn't being mean, she's just struggling to see it.) (Struggling in general. Girl is dissociating more than not, but actually trying her best as a tribute stylist.) (She and Claudine should meet. Attend some therapy together.)
Ginny is Capitol, too. She's a medical student, a medic apprentice, whatever you want to call it. Aesthetics and cosmetics surgery specifically. She's shadowing some doctors at tribute-victor-centre.
Which, let's be honest, mainly means that she, Anthony and Harriet can meet ✨
Like Anthony, she thinks that Harriet is gorgeous. She thinks the same about Anthony.
She flatlines Anthony's medical tracker while he's sleeping but still very much alive in the arena. This goes unnoticed because Harry and Uma are kicking up too much drama. And Ginny and Anthony are pretty good at disguises.
Faciliers. They live in Capitol. With documents that are certainly both legal and theirs.
But hey. No one is gping to kick them out. They smuggle in expensive drugs and absinth and other interesting stuff.
They also know way too much blackmail.
Celia and Freddie have accidentally befriended the gamemakers while making deliveries and now the gamemakers let them play a bit and design new fun mutts!
(Stuff of nightmares, I tell you)
Mal is a way too Capitol-propaganda enthusiastic Victor from one of the poor Districts.
Jay is from District Two, a secret rebel. Jade died in the Games.
Oh! CJ sneaked into the Capitol with her older siblings despite being specifically forbidden to do so, and is now setting something on fire. Ceasar practically gave her a permission by calling her "a little firecracker" in the interview with Harry.
The Smees were supposed to watch her, but the Smees couldn't be paid enough for that.
I'm almost certain I forgot someone. Please, ask if I did or if you find something interesting and want me to elaborate?
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larmalot · 5 days
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who else has conflicted feelings on the Bad Batch finale
Maybe it was the budget but something just felt off to me -- I don't know that I can put it into words but it was there. I am whelmed.
The runtime was so short! And for a show typically heavy on nuanced emotions, it felt rushed and pointedly lacking on emotional impact. 
We absolutely should have heard more from the rescued clone prisoners! And we barely got anything from Crosshair even though he got dismembered!! Emerie's betrayal for the sake of the children and finally her choosing her OWN path -- that deserved *way* more time.
Nala Se honestly deserved to kill Hemlock herself, but killing Rampart was actually pretty good consolation. I enjoyed that scene even though I was surprised the dialogue didn't reference Rampart destroying Kamino directly.
But so many plot things went unaddressed. The clone special operative set up as a mirror rival for Crosshair (i only recently learned his name was CX-2) i think died when Hunter hit him with a spear, but i'm not even sure it was him bc those agents were so anonymized in part from the canon of having their identities erased. But definitely it should have been Crosshair who killed him!!
I was also a bit disappointed that Hemlock didn't go off the rails more. Even Anakin lost it at the end and became super aggressive and violent, and i was expecting was at least some growling and rough handling from Hemlock -- especially directed at Omega, whom he views as imperial property. But I guess this is a kids' show. Part of me was also hoping to find out the reason behind his excellent gloved hand tic, but nada. I'm just saying he spent two seasons priming that hand to strangle someone and then never did. *shrugs*
The appearance of those CX(?) agents emerging from their tanks with new special weapons we'd never seen before -- well it wasn't unfathable, but it was a bit random and almost too much (i was reminded of those helicopter lightsabers from the season 2 Rebels finale). With how they seemed to be designed to hold off the Batch with varying weapons and body types, i could easily buy them as orginially designed as mirror antagonists for an aborted season 4.
(The whole fan theory that Tech is alive but Hemlock made him an evil brainwashed clone would have been interesting, but i'm glad they left the sacrifice of his death intact.)
Rex never arriving with a calvary of reinforcements was the real surprise of this finale. As much as I like the title, I don't think it suited the episode at all or fit well with the context of these last episodes. It's a line said by Wrecker when the Batch debuted in TCW, but in this episode the Batch retired???! Plus they arrived on Tantiss in the episode before this one and were captured as soon as they entered the hangar. Not really the mighty calvary... Maybe it's that they arrived on Pabu (to stay). Idk.
And!!! the massive giant hanging plotline of the offscreen clone rebellion is so odd. The same guy does all these voices!!! It's a lot less forgivable than the way they've been writing around the Pabu characters -- which, by the way, got old FAST. This season it was worse than ever and since all the Pabu characters are POC, there is definitely another race insensitivity case to be made here. I know it ultimately boils down to budget, but how many times can an established character be mentioned or seen in a non-speaking role before it becomes a massive disservice?
I wasn't exactly expecting it but I'm also surprised they never wrapped up Cid's character. Another reason I'm thinking The Bad Batch was meant to run for at least 4 seasons, bc she also kinda deserved a farewell or a chance to make amends. And Emerie deserved more development!! Her joining the clone rebellion is just one small step of a whole new life, making her own decisions and learning to value herself!
I know I should be happy with the ending but it all felt so sanitized and disneyfied. Everyone chilling around Pabu in their Tantiss clothes was just too much for me. I'm convinced there was a budget issue that affected those decisions. And the finale scene -- even though I *liked* it, it felt like a neatly wrapped up means to funnel a grown up Omega directly into a Rebellion era show/movie as a guaranteed fan favorite character. That cheapened things for me, a lot.
Anyway, I'm glad people got what they wanted -- wet Batch boys in the rain, salt and pepper daddy Hunter, and the Zillo Beast going off into the sunset to live happy and free in the jungle. I didn't hate it, I'm just surprisingly unenthused. I'm holding out for bonus content to drop on May 4 (but i doubt it lmao).
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turkwriter · 9 months
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Various thoughts on Ahsoka so far (Wall of Text)
-Really want to know what happened to Clan Wren during the Purge. I know they lived on Krownest rather than Mandalore but I was getting vibes from the episodes that Sabine was having issues looking at and putting on her beskar'gam and helmet, something she didn't have in Rebels even while suffering from guilt over building the Duchess. Clan Wren being mostly wiped out, or just suffering from heavy casualties including close family members, could have left Sabine feeling extreme PTSD after the Purge re: Mandalorian issues, especially since she played such a huge part in making Bo-Katan Mand'alor the first time around.
-The main critique I have regarding the episodes is that I don't think Ahsoka Tano's fighting style plays well in live-action. I'm not faulting Rosario Dawson or her stunt doubles or even the creative team behind the show for this: I just don't think the fighting that Ahsoka does in the animated series can be done in live-action. She's not a human, she's Togruta, and in animation the character can fight in a way unencumbered by the limits of a real physical human body. I keep watching Ahsoka's fights expecting to see the fast, fluid movements and physical feats of animated!Ahsoka and keep getting disappointed when she's just moving and fighting like a regular human being (also, they sort of overdid it with scenes where Ahsoka is running and then comes to a sudden stop, followed by her staring into the distance).
-I actually think Rosario Dawson is doing pretty good in the non-action scenes as Ahsoka. I definitely got a hint of animated!Ahsoka's personality when she was reprimanding Huyang after he rescued her from that planet with the temple. Yes, she's more sober and reserved and not snippy but this is also an Ahsoka who's in her, what, 40s? And after she's sort of died twice and been through two wars and learned Anakin was Darth Vader and etc. She has reason to be more somber here.
-I'm seeing a lot of professional reviewers calling this the "anti-Andor" or a letdown compared to Andor and I'm kind of laughing because does anyone actually remember the critical and audience response to the first 2-3 episodes of Andor? It wasn't great either. "It's slow," "it's focusing on character(s) who aren't widely known to a general audience," "did we really need this?" Those were all things that were said about Andor when it first started airing too. It took a few episodes for it to get really good. I'm liking Ahsoka so far. It's not a perfect show but it's got a lot of good parts to it.
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stinkyme · 1 year
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Hello! This is a small dumb drabble I wrote suddenly, it's focused more on Nikolai but I hope you enjoy regardless :) <3
CW/TW: mentions of killing in the end but other than that my dumb thoughts lol
I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :)
God is smiling || Nikolai Gogol x Fyodor Dostoevsky
Nikolai was an eccentric soul, unknown to many, even himself. Everyone would be on their toes around him, trying to prepare for next outburst or insanity he would spit through his bold lips. They would get shivers from his giggles, from his bold statements wrapped in a veil of immature clownery. They would take him seriously only due to his unpredictable nature, but deep down he knew they didn't see him worthy of being even a clown he played, in their eyes he was nothing but a common fool. Who would sit down and listen to a fool's stories? Who would be interested in a man who was nothing but a huge presence with broken morals, ideals and who wouldn't even let you consider he was telling the truth deceiving you by playing with insanity? He took everything so painfully immature, they would think. He was nothing but a monster who didn't have any emotion or empathy to spare for anyone. Ironically, he loved that. He loved that people saw him as a fool, as someone for whom is pointless to be asked any questions. People completely teared his essence down. He was nothing in their eyes. They had no expectations of him, no morals to uphold, no lessons to make him learn or acknowledge. No one had to acknowledge him further than he would let them, he was nothing but a brainless, emotionless puppet of a clown playing with people by sadistically ruining them. They would allow him explore how far his twisted ideas can go. How far he can go until he loses sight of himself when he looks back. He would make them believe that plain, malicious evil they would only read in books that has no reason, cause or point exists. No one asked him why and even if someone did they would never get an answer that could even suggest human was hiding somewhere inside him. No one would understand, no one ever tried. That was until he met Fyodor Dostoevsky. A man who told him how splendid his mindset is, how he is fighting in opposition of God to lose sight of himself. That night opened his eyes. Someone understood, someone looked at him with malicious satisfaction, someone took a look at his essence and praised it as a form of rebellion.
Freedom is rebellion, he knew. Freedom exists everywhere and nowhere at the same time. To win against yourself means to lose everything in Nikolai's case. To rebel against God means to completely tear his heart apart, to leave nothing but bloody, empty, open hole of something that used to be a heart in his chest until he bleeds heaviness of his soul out. Until he reduces himself in nothing but a concept - freedom. Until he turns himself into everything - freedom. How does a man reduces himself into nothing and everything at the same time? How does a man embodies himself into a concept that only few experience? How does a man become free, bounded to nothing, existing and being alive but not attached to anything? Not even himself? How does a man kill a soul? Nikolai would know, he walked over so many of those. Always hearing them crush, break under him and use their vessels to scream for an end. He killed so many souls, he would walk over the bodies - vessels, listening to sound of flesh ripping apart, bones breaking in parts, but he wouldn't hear screams or voices anymore. He knew soul died before vessel did. Because they were weak in his eyes, they never expanded themselves enough and therefore died so easily. People would always say how eyes are window to a soul. He knew that wasn't the truth as he would show people his scarred eye that most would cover up due to vulnerability. In his mind, only window to a soul was taking a look through heart. He would even give people a justice of uncovering his other eye, letting them look in his soul as traditional idea proposed. No one would see it. Why is that? Because no one would take him seriously. No one would take a look at a heart so painfully open when they are too consumed with insanity filled eyes. He was an open book, a bird with open wings. He was wondering how does a man kill a soul but vessel survives? If he kills his essence that means he is free. He was killing his essence every time he would kill someone else's but it wasn't enough. How much man has to ruin and kill in order to reach freedom? Why is a bird more deserving of freedom than he is? Because it was simply born that way same way he was born in a body he didn't desire with an essence that caged him. To feel is to suffer and every suffering makes soul more alive, ironically. When he would suffer he could feel his soul whispering inside him, forcing him to listen and feel sensations in all edges of his bones and flesh he never wanted. His skin felt like a cage. His ribs felt like a cage. His skull felt like a cage. His hands felt like a cage. His heart felt like a cage. His body, his vessel that was born to exist as a human was painfully tight cage trying to protect his essence. He hated that, he knew that bird born in a cage will never know that it's a prisoner. He knew. He knew he was in a cage. But he also knew he wasn't a bird and he never will be. However he can be free. He would look up at the wide sky that was only proof in our lifetime that something limitless beside time exists. But we even caged time. Our bodies are in constant cage of death. He knew. He knew if he wants freedom, limitless existence caged only by time he had to kill and destroy only thing that was holding the key. He knew Fyodor became part of his essence. He was successful at keeping his soul contained so far, filled with only desire of freedom, but he never expected his soul would spill out of his heart and wrap it in veil of emotions towards a man who acknowledged him. His essence spilled due to being seen through right eyes. He would talk to God, telling him how he knows. He feels it in his hands as he was holding a knife deeply inside Fyodor's heart. He looked at his eyes that were still maliciously satisfied even in death.
"God is smiling Kolya." those were the last words of the only man who ever understood him, who died for his freedom. God wasn't smiling. For Nikolai God was laughing at his foolish attempt. He didn't reach freedom, just painful emptiness that was forever to haunt his heart now when he lost only person, only essence that was able to meld with his. He was still in a cage and as blood poured out of man's chest, he knew that now all he did was add shackles on his wrists, bounding himself to endless grief that will follow him in every step he makes. Forever to be prisoner of cage, chains and shackles he crafted as God kept laughing at him, just like everybody else.
The End :) <3
Well I hope you enjoyed this dumb drabble lol
I plan on posting Fyodor smut soon so yeah :D
Thank you for all love and support you showed me so far, I really appreciate it deeply! Kisses on forehead for everyone hehehe
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physsting · 1 year
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First
Emotional whump, anxiety, threat of torture
3.3k
~~~
It took hours for Hennessy to fade, for the screaming and the desolation to dim into the soft sounds of the ship around him. Juni rose from the ground, joints popping from being curled up for so long. He wiped the crust from his eyes and took one last look around at the tomb, at the red stain on the ground that was truly the last little bit of his brother, and ducked out into the hangar.
There was no indication of the time, no clocks he knew how to read and no sun rising in the open bay doors, but Juni’s internal clock told him it was early morning. The sun back home would be rising soon and Henry would follow soon after. He wanted to lie, but the hooks in his brain rebelled. He couldn’t lie, lying to his caretaker would be the ultimate sin, betraying his trust the ultimate crime. He couldn’t lie to him.
He had to lie to him. He was supposed to be stoic, with clean emotions easily handled. Spending the entire night mourning was messy, heavy, and concerning. Would it be more concerning if he spent the entire night away and was then perfectly fine the next day? Or would he be in more trouble if he continued to act out? He should have just stayed in the cabin and waited out the pull up there, where he was supposed to be, and just lived with himself in the morning. All this thinking, all the possibilities, made his head hurt. He wished he had Henry to tell him what to do.
He reached the cabin and entered quietly. Henry was still asleep, so Juni took a seat on the couch and pulled his knees up to his chest to wait. Normally he’d make breakfast or tidy or organize Henry’s desk, but this suite afforded him none of those distractions. He chewed on his thumbnail and stared at the blank viewscreen.
He was acting weird already. He couldn’t lie to him. What else was he to do? He couldn’t act normally in these circumstances. Back home he’d have him fooled. How would he act now if he were normal?
This was all an awful thing to think. He should be waking Henry up to tell him of his sins.
No, no that was too far.
Was it too far? Was that the normal thing to do?
The door to Henry’s bedroom whooshed open and Juni jumped into a neutral position. He wished he had sat next to the window to at least have the excuse of watching the stars. What was he doing here sitting in front of a blank viewscreen? Henry padded over to the replicator set into the wall. Juni recited the coffee order in his head as Henry spoke it to the machine and listened to the liquid filling the cup. Henry took it and came over to the couch.
"What are you doing up this early?" He asked. Juni smiled at him, careful to keep his expression open and easy.
"I couldn't sleep, was just trying to figure out how to turn this on." That was normal, wasn't it? He never watched the screen at home, but there was always something else to do at home. Henry didn't expect him to stare at the wall rather than turn on the screen, right? Right? If Henry thought it was weird, he didn't show it. He sat down on the other end of the couch and picked up the remote from the coffee table. Fuck, he should have been holding that.
"Lets see if we can find anything here. The humans don't seem keen on sitting around watching, so there might not be anything to see."
He fiddled with the settings on it for a minute before making an exasperated sound and shutting it off.
"Well, the quiet is good too," he said, taking a sip of his coffee. Juni nodded and tried not to be so stiff. An awkward quiet settled between them. It was never like this before, god, this is why he never lied.
Henry sipped his coffee and looked at the stars outside, while Juni picked at the hem of his sleep shirt.
"What's going on with you?"
Fuck!
Juni took in a deep breath and let it out quickly. "I just feel useless here. There isn't a lot that isn't automated already, you know?" It wasn't a total lie; if Juni had chores he would be much more at ease right now. Henry nodded and sipped his coffee again.
"Yeah, they've had to adapt a lot faster than us, don't have you guys to do everything." He smiled over the rim of his cup. Juni returned it, settling slightly.
"When are we going home?"
Henry finished his cup and set it on the table. It shimmered in the air a second before it disappeared entirely. Henry gave a little amused chuckle and turned back to Juni.
"Today, if all goes well. Just need to dot the t's and cross the i's and get out of here."
Juni nodded, relieved. He could go home and put all of this behind him. As much as it pained him be relieved to never have to think about Hennessy again, he needed to continue, to be normal again, for his own sake. Hennessy would understand.
Henry slapped his knees and got up and went back to his quarters to get dressed. Juni did the same, his clothes already separated from Henry's. His quarters were the same size as Henry's, spacious enough for a double bed and several dressers for storage. His normal quarters were smaller, big enough for a cot and a small dresser and just enough room to wiggle through between them. That was a standard quarter aboard Generack ships for one person and their Ahn. These quarters seemed to be for two full people. Juni had mentally shrugged at it yesterday, but now the difference, or lack thereof, made him anxious. It grated against him, different in a way he just wanted to be normal.
He pulled out his clothes and realized he didn't know if he needed his dress uniform or not. He swore, louder than he meant to, and sat back on the bed. He'd know what to do if he wasn't off kilter, he was sure of it. He was thinking circles around himself and not being able to reach out for reassurance was sending him into a spiral all it's own. He'd never been completely alone before; every other trip had been in the company of at least one other dignitary with their own Ahn. They'd always relied on each other, shared information and offered a balm for the aching mind.
Juni took in and let out several deep breaths and tried to grapple with himself. He'd made several mistakes thus far. It was imperative he made no more. It was better to place too much importance on an event than not enough. Being wrong about the dress uniform was better than being wrong about the travel clothes.
But why even pack travel clothes?
Being wrong about the dress uniform was better than being wrong about the travel clothes, he'd wear the uniform.
He repeated that to himself as he pulled on the stiff fabric, already rewashed and pressed and starched. The sleeves tugged and he breathed out a sigh of relief. That was normal. He'd be normal. Everything would be fine.
He stepped out in the common area between the quarters. Henry was already there, also in his dress uniform. Any relief from choosing correctly was overshadowed by the fear of having made Henry wait. He never made him wait before, not in a very long time.
Henry flashed him a smile and finished buttoning his cuff links. Juni returned it as easily as he could and fell into step behind him, easily slotting into the familiar role. He could do this, he could not mess anything else up today. Henry would never have to know.
The hallways were more crowded this time of day. Most of the people, those that didn't seem in a hurry, smiled or nodded at or acknowledged Henry as they passed, and nearly all of those also acknowledged Juni. The attention made him squirm. He knew that he normally wouldn't care, would chock it up to humans being as weird as most other people in the galaxy, and the fact that it bothered him bothered him some more.
They knew.
They couldn't know.
They'd tell.
He needed to sleep; a hard reset would do him some good.
They reached the medbay. The three men from the shuttle were looking better even from yesterday, their cheeks fuller and their skin rosier. They each split into wide smiles and shook Henry's hand vigorously. Juni swallowed and shoved the memory of the shuttle into the back recesses of his mind and stayed several steps back, wishing there were more shadows in the white room to hide in. The three men looked at him, but none met his eye. That was fine - Juni wouldn't have held their gaze normally anyway - but it still made the bitter part of him curl. Of course, they felt bad. Of course, they were ashamed. They took a life, even one as small and pathetic as an Ahn. He shouldn't be thinking like this, but it was hard not to relish in how they looked at the ground rather than him.
He felt her approach a full minute before she entered. He really should have listened and remembered her name. The woman from before stepped into the medbay and looked around briefly before her eyes landed on him. She walked over and Juni hoped to anything that she stopped in front of Henry.
She stopped in front of Juni. "The captain would like to speak with you in his chambers."
Juni let his terror show and looked to Henry. He seemed confused, looking between him and her with a furrowed brow. He didn't say anything. It wasn't Juni's place to refuse, it was Henry's, why wasn't he refusing? After several silent seconds, Juni detached his feet from the ground and started slowly towards the door. He looked towards Henry, begging him to intervene, but he just watched them leave until the door slid closed behind them.
They walked silently. Juni carefully kept his mind close to him, as pulled in as it would go. She didn't probe, but just being those close to her he could tell she wanted to, could tell she was concerned for him. Henry was the only one who should be concerned for him, this was all wrong. He was trying to be normal, this wasn't normal! Why couldn't he just fade quietly into the background until they were home?
Part of him hoped the captain was a selfish man. If he wanted Juni to please him like that, well, that wouldn't go over very well with Henry but it wouldn't be Juni's fault. He could fall into that script and operate as normal and let the people figure it out above him. He didn't sense any of that in the brief moments they had met though. He could look in the woman's head, but she'd know and that was a bigger transgression than lying. One that would put him in much more danger.
Gennie's didn't know the extent of the interlacing between the Ahn, or the extent of their ability to hear everyone else. They knew Ahn were close, knew they shared some parts of themselves across the air, but they had no idea how important it was. It had to stay that way. If Gennie's knew about the network they might tap in or shut it down entirely. The thought of being surrounded by his kin but still utterly alone in his mind made him shiver.
She led him to an elevator and pressed her hand against a pad before speaking "Captain's Quarters" into the air. The machine whirred as it carried them off without a jolt or budge. It opened many seconds later to an office, as brightly lit as the rest of the ship and taken up mostly by a desk in the center. The captain rose from his chair on the opposite side and offered him a hand and a tight lipped smile.
"Ah, Juni, was it? Pleasure to meet you."
Juni kept his hands folded in front of him, stiff as a board. The captain dropped his hand and sat down, gesturing to do the same. The woman's hand was on his shoulder, guiding him over to the chair. She didn't push him down, instead letting him sink down himself before taking the one next to it. He wasn't sure where to look, if staring at the floor was respectful or if he should make eye contact to convey he was paying attention.
"It's come to my attention that you may be in danger."
Juni's brow furrowed despite himself. He wasn't sure what the etiquette was for this, but everyone seemed nice enough. Henry would want him to tell them everything was fine and get back to his side as fast as he could, right?
"No, no I'm fine. Everything's okay."
"Really? From what Deanna told me, it sounded like you wanted to leave."
He knew she'd tell. He put on a reassuring smile.
"No, that was nothing. I'm fine, I don't need to go."
"You seemed really distraught," Deanna said.
"I was, but that doesn't mean anything."
The captain sighed and looked briefly to Deanna, a beat drawing out between them. "You know," he said finally, "my medical officer hasn't been able to figure out how those men survived for so long in that shuttle. It seems like you know the answer."
Ah. So that's what this was. They wanted him to say it, wedge the knife in deeper. They wanted to relish in and laugh at his pain before they lost the opportunity.
"Well," he started, "its standard protocol, when a ship is going down, for an Ahn to be aboard each shuttle that launches. They," he swallowed thickly, "we can be useful for entertainment on long voyages, or, in extreme emergencies..." he looked at the captain, pleading for him not to say it. The captain looked like he understood but didn't stop him. "...a food source."
The words hung in the air for several seconds. The captain leaned back in his chair, his face stunned. Deanna was equally silent. Juni looked uncomfortably at the desk. There. He said it. Could he go home now?
"They ate a person?" The captain said, addressed to no one in particular. Juni shrugged. Did they? It depended on one's definition of person, and his definition had never mattered much. He assumed humans and Gennie's had the same, seeing as they worked together.
"You say it's standard protocol?" He asked.
Juni nodded.
"It's standard practice to..." he trailed off.
Juni nodded again. "Only in emergencies."
He huffed a stunned sigh and looked at the wall to think.
"This, this Ahn, they were like you?"
 In every way
"As intelligent and, and sentient as you?"
Juni nodded again. The captain sat back in his chair and blew out a breath.
"Well, that is, that is disturbing, but it isn't a crime."
Juni relaxed slightly, tension he didn't know he was carrying.
"Captain," Deanna urged, "that isn't all of it," she looked to Juni to continue. Juni gave her a pleading look back. They want more? They want him to relive it again? He told her already, she couldn't have told him before now? She just nodded towards the captain expectantly. Juni blew out a breath and prepared himself to continue.
"Well, Ahn can, can regrow lost parts, if given the energy to do so."
The captain's eyes widened. "They were alive?"
"The whole time."
He sat back in his chair again, looking wide eyed at the ceiling. Juni wrapped his arms around himself and stared down at the desk, Hennessy's screams ringing in his ears. A weighty silence fell over them as the captain absorbed the information. He hoped he was sad enough for them. He hoped they wouldn't make him cry.
"Of all the needlessly cruel..." the captain muttered, sitting up at his desk. Juni mentally nodded. Yes, it was needlessly cruel for you to drag me up here. The captain cleared his throat and looked squarely at Juni.
"That," he emphasized the word, "is a crime by our standards, a hefty one. I'm concerned for your safety and am prepared to take you into protective custody."
Terror flooded his veins. "No!" Juni shot up from the chair, sending it skittering back several feet to the wall. He immediately regretted it, bringing his arms up to cover his face on instinct. No blow came, only the captain sitting back in his chair to look him in the eye.
"Why not?" He murmured. 
"I can't be alone. I can't, I can't be alone out here. Can't you not be alone?" He turned to Deanna. She was like him, right? She could feel other people. How could she stand being the only one out here? She stuttered a second.
"I haven't been on my home planet in ages."
"How do you stand it? It's so empty and cold out here, how do you not have people to know you?"
"I'm not alone out here. I'm surrounded by people who care about me."
Juni shook his head. "No, no no no! It's not the same!" He turned to the captain, "I can't leave. I don't care what happens, I have to go back."
The captain leaned back in his chair, folded his hands over his belly, and nodded. "I see." 
Juni's face screwed up and he covered it with his hands. God, he was going to cry. He'd never felt terror stronger than the idea of being alone here in this bright, sunless place forever, and he'd told them that. They'd keep him here for sure now, just to watch him crumble into dust. The others would have told him to stop talking, to stay calm and collected and not give them more than they demanded. He was nothing without the rest of his family. 
Deanna's hand was on his shoulder. He jerked away from it instinctively, then froze. He was so stupid, now they'd really hurt him. He flinched when she put her hand on his shoulder again, but she didn't push him down or drag him away.
"You can go back to him now, I'll take you there." She said gently. Juni nodded and wrapped his arms around himself, letting her lead him to the door and back into the elevator. She said a deck number and the machinery began to whir again. Juni stood as far from her as he could in the small space.
"You're a stronger telepath than I am," she said, breaking the silence. Juni wrapped his arms tighter around himself. "It always felt like an intrusion when someone read my mind, but with you I sense it's different."
He nodded miserably. "You can't tell them. Please." He mumbled. She looked at him for a long second.
"I won't. You're safe with me."
He could have almost huffed a bitter laugh. He was never fully safe, unless he was with Henry.
She led him to their quarters and left him at the door with a sympathetic smile. He entered and hated himself to be relieved that Henry wasn't there. He sank down on the sill of the bay window and leaned his forehead against the cool glass. The others would be consoling him, taking some of this burden for themselves. He felt their absence like a gaping, aching void in his chest. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He closed his eyes and retreated into his mind, body sagging against the glass. He went to that empty field in the ether, where the sun shined and the breeze rustled through the grass, and he screamed and screamed and screamed until his mind collapsed from exhaustion.
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hellwrites · 1 year
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Warnings: dubcon, revenge porn, language
Setting between TFA & TLJ - Finn is awake and Rey came back after finding Luke. Everyone is at the new Rebel Base at a pretty boring strategy meeting, when everyone's holopads start pinging with an anonymous video drop.
Someone presses play, and the room is filled with the unmistakable sounds of sex. The holo shows Poe, bent over some flat surface. An offscreen partner - clearly male - is uttering oddly aggressive words. He's talking about how Poe is some bigshot to everyone else, but he knows the pilot is just a slut who needs to be put in his place.
Everyone looks to Poe, who shrinks into his seat, as the disembodied partner does something that makes holo-Poe groan in what could have been pleasure or pain. The voice continues to growl about how he and Poe had a good thing going. He was the only person who could give Poe what he really needs, so why was Poe wasting so much time with that Traitor who would never really see him?
Even if you somehow got him into bed; you really think he could love you? Pathetic.... Damaged...
"Enough!" Leia's voice rang out through the room, and the holo was shut off immediately.
Everyone was silent. Attention split between trying to look at Poe and paying attention to Leia, who was very clearly furious.
"Who did this?"
A small wave of chatter rose up and died, before Rey stood up - head cocked to the side as if trying to hear something.
"Rey?" Leia asked. Luke wasn't around, but she recognised the sight of someone channeling the force.
"Him," Rey pointed at a man far at the back of the room. "His guilt is so loud and... Anger. Pride." Rey shook her head as if shrugging off the man's emotions.
The people around the culprit had already moved to stop him running away, and with a wave of her hand, Leia had him brought to stand in front of her.
"Distribution of personal data without express permission is a crime," she was speaking to the man, but her voice carried. "You may have wanted to humiliate Dameron, but I hope it was worth it. You are hereby stripped of all rank, your network privileges are revoked, and you will be confined to quarters until further notice." A single nod of Leia's head was enough to have him pulled away by the security that had gathered.
Leia dismissed everyone shortly after. Poe remained behind. He'd been quiet since it happened. Everyone was gone when Finn stepped into Poe's line of sight.
Poe looked up carefully. He didn't want to see what anyone thought of him right now, least of all Finn.
"ex-boyfriend?" Finn asked, clearly trying to keep things light. Poe laughed - the sound hollow. Finn sighed and sat next to Poe, their knees touching. It took a moment of silence before he spoke again.
"so, um... on that recording..."
"You can just ask," Poe was resigned, expecting Finn to be disgusted.
"Do you... Um... Do you, like it? Like... that?" Finn was stuttering and gesturing, and Poe couldn't help the soft smile.
"I like it slow," Poe admitted carefully. "Configuration..." he waved his hand, hoping Finn was worldly enough to understand his meaning. "That doesn't matter to me so much."
"But he..." Finn's expression darkened as he put the pieces together. "He hurt you. You didn't want that."
"We were... It was break-up sex. He realised after everything on the Finalizer, that I was interested... I mean, we'd been kind of shaky for a while, but..." Poe sighed heavy. The more he tried to explain the more tied up he felt inside. "When I met you, things changed."
Finn's eyes widened, Poe's own sad and a little pleading.
"You... and me?"
"Doesn't have to be."
"I want it, but..." Finn took a deep breath. "We weren't allowed, in The Order, we had sex but it wasn't allowed. No emotions. No attachments. I can't... I don't want it to be like that with you."
Poe's cocky little smile returned and it made Finn's insides settle.
"Don't you worry, pal. When it comes to you, I'm all emotions and attachments."
"And I can do slow," Finn smiled in return, letting his fingers brush against Poe's.
That's it. That's all I've got. Nothing more to see here, move along. Love you, bye.
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The Year Marvel Lost
There are many people who would love to jump and argue with me on this if they saw it, but I'm here to announce that Marvel has officially lost it's position as the unstoppable giant. Seriously. And I'm going to explain how DC, Lucasfilm, and Sonic The Hedgehog (...yes. Sonic The Hedgehog) have dealt massive blows that Marvel will have to work hard to recover from. Let's start with...
The DCEU
Few companies have even had the even had the ability to attempt to compete against Marvel. The MCU got kickstarted 14 years ago with Iron Man in 2008, and ever since then the biggest competitor Marvel has had has been, well, DC. The two companies rivaled each other, but we all know how far the DCEU fell. Until they decided to do something new: a project not in the DCEU...a stand-alone Batman movie. And this movie was a BLAST! It was the closest film has ever been to a true Batman, and while it was certainly a bit odd getting a Batman movie that wasn't a crime-fighting action film, but rather an investigative film (and yes, I say this despite how badly the third act went), it was so satisfying! And I'm not the only person who believed that. And while for personal reasons I am avoiding Peacemaker (I have an aversion to blood/gore, which the show is reportedly heavy on), reviews for that were insane, too
Star Wars
...this is easily my favorite franchise of all time, but...how do I put it...the last phenomenal thing Star Wars released that could easily pound Marvel into the dirt was Revenge Of The Sith in 2005, something that released ahead of the MCU's reign. Since then, the Clone Wars TV show was the only thing that gave the franchise momentum (with Rebels managing to keep things together and Resistance being wrongfully overlooked) until the release of The Mandalorian, a show that singlehandedly revived Star Wars and made it relevant again. But at the end of the day, Marvel still took home every victory. That's why this year was major for Star Was: between Kenobi and Andor, Lucasfilm was looking to make a huge mark in cinematic history, and Marvel was getting lazy with their content. Unfortunately, Star Wars' momentum was slowed by Kenobi's questionable quality of content, and Andor has also been unfortunately overlooked for the most part, but it's worth noting that Andor has given the loyal fans something they haven't had in a long time: hope. And that's all we need to scoff at Marvel and turn back to Star Wars
...Sonic The Hedgehog
The first Sonic outing was, admittingly, something I laughed at when I found out it was a thing. Video game movies DON'T WORK. Then Sonic took a drastic turn: it wasn't a video game movie, it was a superhero movie. This shocked me, but it worked really well. And this year, we also had the release of Sonic The Hedgehog 2, which easily replicated the first movie's success. This is a much more minor victory over Marvel than even Lucasfilm had, but consider this: if a video game movie sequel can be way more enjoyable than some of the most anticipated projects the biggest franchise has pushed out around the same time...what else is possible? Who else could rise to challenge Marvel? The Mario movie might stomp the giant. Maybe the next Transformers movie will turn into a major threat. The Hunger Games prequel might be the last one standing. WHO KNOWS?!
The fact of the matter is that while Marvel's content this year has been good, it's not what we expect. Marvel has set it's own bar so high and gotten so lazy that it's come nowhere near where it needs to be to safely keep it's position. The King of Entertainment is a title that is now up for grabs, and the Mario Movie, one of the most controversial recent announcements, has the chance to take the crown for itself. This is a bad time to be a Marvel fan, but it's never been better to be a movie fan
Though, real talk, I am SUPER EXCITED for the upcoming Mario movie! Anyone else?!
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greensparty · 2 months
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Talking with Peter Holmström of The Dandy Warhols
Portland, OR alt-rockers The Dandy Warhols have been letting their freak flag fly for 30 years now. Seriously! The band was formed in 1994 and have consistently been releasing one psychedelic rock album after another. To coincide with the band's thirteenth studio album Rockmaker, which drops today from Sunset Blvd. Records, they began a tour a few weeks earlier. The new album is very much a rocker and it's worth picking up. Prior to the album release, they put out the single "Danzig With Myself", one of the coolest song titles in recent memory!
In my review of the band's 2019 album Why You So Crazy, I wrote that it was "the band’s best album since 2000′s Thirteen Tales of Urban Bohemia." Happy to report the new album is the band leaning into their hard rock tendencies. When I saw the band at Royale in 2019 celebrating their 25th anniversary, they played a ton of hits and dropped balloons on the audience at the end. I wrote "This band really made me believe the dream of the 90s is still alive!" When the band returned to Royale on March 5, they didn't have the balloon theme, but they didn't miss a beat. There was a brief technical glitch, but like any professional, they kept it going. This show was super special in that they were doing some new material off the album before it was even released. They also did a ton of their standards like "We Used to be Friends", "Good Morning" (one of my favorites FYI), "Bohemian Like You" (a big soundtrack song), "The Last High" and "Not Your Bottle" (a song they hadn't done in 20 years) among others.
Through this blog I've had the chance to cover The Dandy Warhols quite a bit. In 2019, I interviewed leader Courtney Taylor-Taylor via email. In 2020 I interviewed keyboardist/bassist Zia McCabe via zoom. So the next step was my first Dandy Warhols in-person interview with guitarist Peter Holmström backstage before the Royale show. He was relaxed, cool and very generous with his time. In addition to his work with The Dandy Warhols, Peter also has the side project Peter International Airport and he has played in Rebel Drones, The Mutants, and Sun Atoms! Busy guy indeed, so I appreciate his meeting with me while he was in Boston.
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Peter Holmström and me
Me: In 2020 the band released Tafelmuzik Means More When You're Alone, a 3.5 hour album! You're making a lot of musicians feel downright lazy in contrast.
PH: Honestly, that's just us being lazy because that's stuff that was recorded a while before that we had and we just felt like we needed to put something out. More for everybody else during that time.
Me: Now the band's new album Rockmaker, which drops on March 15, is a much leaner 41 minutes. Tell me about the new album?
PH: The concept was that all of the songs start with a riff essentially, which is not a new thing, but it's new for us. We mostly write songs starting with a chord change and a melody and the riffs come later. This time we decided to come up with some heavy guitar riffs and come up with some songs around that, which was a very fun exercise. I was not into it at first, the idea that it was going to be a metal record. I had no interest in that. But as soon as I figured out that it wasn't going to be metal, just heavier guitar, then I came up with plenty of riffs and we got a record made.
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cover of the new album Rockmaker
Me: The Dandy Warhols have always had a lot of rock star friends, but this new album features appearances by Slash, Frank Black and Debbie Harry. What was it like working with these icons of music?
PH: Unfortunately we don't ever get to be in the studio together. But still, having Debbie Harry sing on a song I co-wrote, that's...I didn't know that was on my bucket list! That's an amazing thing that my teenage self would be freaking out over. I'm still freaking out over it. Truly amazing!
And Slash - whoever would've guessed? That's just crazy. And Frank Black is super fucking cool! Another never would've expected that. But, hey - great!
Me: It's funny you mention bucket list because my next question is: are there any musicians on your bucket list you'd like to work with?
PH: [pauses] Yeah, of course there's lots of people. With my side project [Peter International Airport] I try to work with all of those people, because they're more the people I want to work with. But with The Dandys' it's not necessarily the ones who make sense, it's more the curveball ones that we end up with. I mean Mark Knofler - that's odd. I mean, Daniel Ash is somebody I would've loved to have been a part of this record. He doesn't seem to play on other people's records.
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Zia McCabe, Brent DeBoer, Courtney Taylor-Taylor and Holmström live at Royale Boston on 3/5/24
Me: In addition to The Dandy Warhols, you also have your side project Peter International Airport. Any chance they might be opening for The Dandy Warhols soon?
PH: No. I would do it, but Courtney doesn't seem to like that idea. He doesn't like any of our side projects opening up. And it would be exhausting.
Me: I do need to ask, this year marks the 20th anniversary of the documentary film Dig! about the friendship and rivalry between The Dandy Warhols and The Brian Jonestown Massacre. I know the band has had a complicated history with both the documentary and director Ondi Timoner, but what's it like for you to know that this film has amassed a cult following, just had the 20th anniversary treatment at Sundance and has brought in new fans?
PH: I try not to think about it too much, because it's not an accurate documentary. She told a story - a very captivating story - using real footage (for the most part) and we gained from it but we also suffered from it. Right when that came out that was right around the time the press wanted to turn against us anyway and we got just terrible reviews of our record that had nothing to do with the record. It was all about their view of who we were from the movie. Like big ones, Rolling Stone and Spin. Just horrible reviews. And then Anton [Newcombe of Brian Jonestown Massacre] got people showing up at shows and just yelling at him to get him to freak out for years. And finally it's come back around so it's about the music. So yeah, it's a weird one. Zia wanted to take part in the 20th anniversary screening at Sundance but none of the rest of us did.
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The Dandy Warhols live at Royale Boston
Me: Favorite album of The Dandy Warhols?
PH: It's a bit of a cliche but it's probably always going to be Thirteen Tales of Urban Bohemia. Just because pre-Thirteen Tales there was an innocence that got changed as soon as we had an actual hit. Then everything changed after that, including the way we recorded because that's when digital recording kind of took over. It stopped being about writing songs, then learning them, then going into the studio. It became more about building songs in the studio. There's nothing wrong with that it's just different. Because of that, there's an innocence to the magic thing that happened that we'll never go back to.
For info on The Dandy Warhols
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technoturian · 2 months
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Okay, well, I watched Ahsoka.
I didn't have much investment in the plotline, as someone who DID watch Rebels but didn't enjoy it, I can't imagine how it was for people who never even watched Rebels. If you don't know or care about Ezra, Hera, Thrawn, the dathomir witches, etc, the Ahsoka show doesn't give you much reason to nor does it bother with more than a cursory explanation. Thrawn is especially a problem because they're setting him up like some SW Thanos and there was absolutely nothing about him that wasn't every other Imperial officer angling for succession. At least Gideon has his silly, narcissistic darktrooper obsession to make him stand out. Thrawn's just a chilly British guy who says "for the Empire" a lot. Groundbreaking.
Sabine was one of the few parts of Rebels that really stood out to me and they flattened her so much. Where's the artist? Where's the tech genius that was making superweapons in her early teens? How does it take until the last episode or so to talk about Mandalore? Her plot with Ahsoka happened so much off-screen that it lacked emotional punch. The only really exciting part of her storyline was when she chose to go with the enemy, and I was disappointed with how little conflict resulted from that. I loved that they went there at least, very unexpected considering Rebels' goodie-goodie "every episode must end with a heavy-handed moral lesson" thing that drove me up the wall.
As for Ahsoka herself... She felt like a generic jedi character for most of her screentime. That said, the visions of Anakin were some of the only stuff that landed emotionally for me and were definitely the highlight.
Ezra's actor did an amazing job, especially since I found Ezra to be a bit obnoxious in the cartoon and I found him so likable in Ahsoka, while still being very recognizable as the same character. The problem is the whole plot of finding him relies so heavily on the relationships and storylines built in a different show. I kept wondering how people who hadn't seen Rebels felt about this guy who has no backstory showing up with such obvious "main character" energy being put into him.
Also just an aside, wish they'd left out the contact lenses. It's not worth messing up the actors' eyelines and focus to match a cartoon character's eye color, I'm sorry but it's just not. Actually I feel like this is indicative of this whole experience: It was so important that all of the most minute details from Rebels made it in unchanged, regardless of how it hampered the show we were watching.
The only original -- at least, in that it didn't require investment in Rebels or Clone Wars -- idea this show presented that I was really invested in were the fallen jedi duo, who seemed full of potential... Until they ended up leading into a tease for the Mortis Gods, which is a plot I have less than zero interest in.
The show really just felt very flat, but in the exact opposite way The Book of Boba Fett was. TBoBF was all style and no substance, it didn't give me anything to care about. Ahsoka had a lot of substance and a lot of lore and just... a lot... happening, but it expected me to already care about it and skipped the part where it gave me a reason to.
If you're a Rebels fan you probably enjoyed it. (Maybe? I haven't really looked at reviews.) Which would make sense, because it was just a new half-season of the cartoon that inexplicably was made live action for no other reason than because these characters need to get some buy-in from the general audience before they show up in a team-up movie with the Mandalorian characters. I don't believe it makes a convincing argument for that buy-in.
PS: Also just as a KOTOR fan, the continued disrespect on the HK designation is intolerable. Justice for HK-47 and death to those personality-less pretenders.
0 notes
zodiyack · 3 years
Text
Rude! (3,000+ Follower Fic Special 1/3)
Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female!Hopper!Reader
Warnings: Swearing, Billy stuff, lyrics, fluff
Song: Rude by Magic!
Words: 1,798
Summary: Billy's love for Hopper's daughter is too strong to be stopped by the tough Chief Jim Hopper. Despite being told "not in a thousand years", he plans to love her regardless.
Note: Thank you so so much! I love you all, and writing your ideas, as well as sharing mine with you, has been so fucking fun and amazing! I'm sorry for my lack of words, I wish being an author came in handy with writing this, however, all I can say is that I love you all from the bottom of my heart. I've seen people do shout-outs, and ask-related stuff with their follower things, and I may do that, I'm not sure. For now, I hope you enjoy this... Thank you all, again!
Also 1/3 means that there will be two other fics released for the 3,000+ follower present!
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Taglist: @urie-bowie-mercury, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @dpaccione
Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist
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"Saturday morning, jumped out of bed and put on my best suit. Got in my car and raced like a jet all the way to you. Knocked on your door with my heart in my hands, to ask you a question, 'cause I know that you're an old-fashioned man. Yeah."
Billy was freshly graduated, working as a lifeguard whilst his girlfriend worked her own job, both saving up for their chance to ditch Hawkins and move to California. Sweet Cali. Billy was excited to show the love of his life around the place he called home. Though, physically, he left the salty ocean and windy beach behind, the place never truly left him.
You could see it in his eyes. The waves crashing in his blue orbs. He swore the scent had just barely clung to his belongings; the smell of the tangy air that followed a majority of the state. Working at a pool was the closest he got to the memory of California. Chlorine was most certainly not the salted ocean waters, but with the circumstances, he decided it'd do.
The way his face lit up whenever he talked about his home...it made Y/n more and more excited to see it. His girlfriend had grown up in Hawkins, stayed there her whole life. Never once did the Hoppers leave Hawkins.
But the second that was introduced to Billy, he knew it had to change.
Although they were saving for a big move, Billy had...other things in mind with what to do with his first large pay-check (or series, rather. Working as a lifeguard didn't pay well with just one check). He began to work more shifts to make up for the money he'd spent, and one day after calling in for a day off, he decided to put his plan into action.
"Billy, stop messing with the tie."
"It's annoying." Hands slapped away his attempts of adjusting the black silk tie.
"Well it won't stop being annoying if you keep fucking it up."
For the first time in a long time, Neil Hargrove was calm. Not happy, not amused, not pissed off for some unjust reason- just calm. He wasn't wreaking havoc and he wasn't being an asshole to his son. Billy hadn't seen this side of his dad in quite some time, in fact, he thought something important was going on and he was about to fuck it all up. And then, Susan retreated to the living room with a camera and a freshly ironed suit.
"You're not putting me in that."
"And who asked for your opinion?" Neil deflected with a raised brow. One heavy sigh later and Billy was leaving the bathroom, dawning the whole black and white getup.
Susan clasped her hands over her mouth, a tear leaving her eye, "You look so handsome! Just like your dad!"
Billy rolled his eyes, "Great."
However, his careless attitude was swept under the rug when the blue Camaro pulled up to the police station, interrupting a clearly distressed Chief Hopper bickering with his daughter. Billy had to get himself together before stepping out of the car, jaw slack after seeing the beauty he got to call his date.
"Hello Mr-"
"Don't even try play nice with me, Hargrove. She's not going anywhere with you. End of story." Hopper kept his eyes trained on the blond, body tense like a snake preparing to strike it's prey.
Y/n grabbed Billy's arm, slowly directing him to the car, "And in the sequel, we find out I am going with Billy. End of that story."
"There is no 'sequel.' The writer got drunk and lazy." She paused, turning to face her father who stood tall, arms crossed and face unamused.
"So his daughter picked up where her father left off, and then the sequel was published and the two lived happily ever after, the end."
While her dad attempted to search for a line that would better hers and force her to stay, she pushed Billy toward the driver's side and slid into the car as fast as she could, rolling down the window as Billy started it up. "Bye! I'll be back before midnight!"
The two drove off toward the school, leaving behind a trail of dust and very, very, pissed off Hopper.
Prom was better than Billy thought it would be. He didn't want to go at first, but after Max found out and spoke to her mom about it (the little redhead a cupid-in-the-making), Neil pushed him to go (as he was "doing something else besides being a lazy-no-good rebel"). It was then that he called Y/n and asked if she'd be going.
The suit came in handy. Clashing with his rocker aesthetic, he put it back on once more. The once-annoying tie proved to be somewhat okay in the end.
Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, but the answer is no!"
Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude?
With a deep breath, he ran-over the conversation in his head once more. Like a script for an actor, he had thought of every possible outcome and every possible line for him to face it with. He almost chickened out as his fist rose to the door, but it was too late, for his knuckles rapped against it before he realized he was even knocking.
El opened the door, eyes wide when she saw the familiar mullet and button-down. "Papa..." She muttered as she backed away and out of view.
Hopper traded places with her, his lazy expression sobering up instantaneously, replaced with a grumpy scowl. "Hargrove."
"Mr. Hopper, sir."
"What are you doing on my front porch?"
He swallowed roughly, palms sweaty against his sides. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."
"You seem to be doing just that right now, Hargrove." Hop crossed his arms and clenched his jaw.
Well, this was certainly not something Billy had thought of. He was on panic mode internally, attempting to find any response that could save his hide and accomplish what he set out to do. Unfortunately, the word-vomit button seemed to be misplaced under the button labeled "help".
"I'd like to marry your daughter, sir."
Hop's eyes grew just as big in size as El's had when she opened the door. He choked on his own surprise, coughing it off, then glaring at the boy in front of him. "Over my dead body, Hargrove. If that's all, I'd strongly advise you to get off of my fucking porch while you're still alive."
I hate to do this, you leave no choice; can't live without her. Love me or hate me, we will be boys- standing at that alter. And we will fly away, to another galaxy, you know. You know she's in love with me, she will go anywhere I go-
"Billy, he's just stubborn."
"No, no, I don't think he likes me."
Y/n sighed, rubbing her boyfriend's back. He hadn't told her of his proposal plans, only that Hop seemed to have it out for him. "It'll take time, but he'll warm up to you!"
"It's been how many years since he's met me?"
"To be fair, your reputation wasn't doing you any good until now..."
"It's not like that was fucking obvious." He slouched further down in the front seat of his Camaro. To Billy, all hope was lost. If he couldn't get Hopper to give him his blessing, he was sure he'd lose his goddamned mind.
Y/n frowned. Her frown flipped around as an idea popped into her head, her lips finding Billy's knuckles and quirking his attention. "Even if he never likes you, I'm not going anywhere."
Billy laughed softly, "he'll fucking kill me if you go against him."
"Eh, that's only if he can catch us."
"You're out of your fucking mind, Y/n Hopper."
"I know."
The rest of the night was spent in the Camaro, of course, doing one of Billy's favorite pastimes. By the time the sun rose, Billy was sneaking a kiss to a giggling Y/n before dropping from her window in the cabin and running to his car, parked far enough that Hop or El wouldn't notice. He blew her one more kiss, which she pretended to catch, then he broke into a sprint.
Maybe, he thought, just maybe; there was still a chance.
His knuckles hit the door again, shifting on his feet nervously. It swung open to reveal Hopper, an unimpressed look bringing no surprise Billy's way. It was quite expected, honestly.
"What." His tone made it clear he wasn't up for fucking around.
"Mr. Hopper, if you just give me one chance to prove to you that-"
"No, no, no, no, no. Let me make it very clear to you that I want you to have nothing to do with my daughter whatsoever. No marriage, no friendship, I don't even approve of you guys fucking or whatever-"
"We're in a serious relationship, sir. It's nothing like you think it is."
This made Hop laugh. He continued to do so, holding his stomach, until he realized Billy was unamused. "Oh, you're serious?... My answer is still no, Hargrove. My answer will always be no. Go find someone else's daughter's heart to break. You're not hurting mine."
"It's not like-"
Before he could even get the words out, he was met with a door in his face. Turned down, again.
Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, 'cause the answer's still no!"
Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude, rude?
Again, again, and again, Billy incessantly pleaded with Hopper. Different tactics were all met with the same answer; rejection.
He held up a sign outside the cabin, only for Hopper to close the curtain and chuckle as he sipped his coffee.
He asked at the door again, only for Hop to threaten to give him a black eye (which was met with "aren't you the sheriff? Isn't that illegal?").
He raced past the police station, Max leaning out the window with another sign, only for Hop to threaten them with holding cells.
He even went as far as to ask Max and El to help, but Hopper had none of that, and sent Max home with a rant full of nos.
However, if Jim Hopper thought any of it would get it into Billy's head that getting his blessing was just not happening- he was as wrong as Nancy when she claimed not to have feelings for Jonathan.
Billy had another plan in mind, and this one was impossible to say no to.
Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend- but no still means no!"
"Hopper." Billy stood before his desk, interrupting his nice date with a delicious doughnut, and earning a very annoyed glare. "I got Miss Byer's blessing. Aren't you two a thing?"
"You son of a-"
"I got Eleven's too."
"Hargrove, I'm gonna-"
"Before you cuss me out, I think you should know that I've got a stable job, an interview with a mechanic so I have a job when the pool closes for the winter, and I've got a house on the market I'm looking at. I'm devoted to your daughter and she's devoted to me. You may not like me, but I think you're a great dad, better than the one I was unfortunately stuck with. You raised a strong and amazing woman. She's incredible and I admit, she deserves better than me-"
"You don't have to say that twice." Hopper huffed, crossing his arms.
"I know she deserves so much better than me, I'm surprised she's even with me too. But she loves me, and I think you can see that. I love her too. I would never, in a million years, break her heart."
Jim stayed silent for a few minutes. The silence brought uneasiness to Billy, but that was intentional on Hopper's behalf. He finally piped up with a cough, clearing his throat, before his piercing eyes met Billy's blue orbs.
"I'll hold you to that, Hargrove."
Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude? Why you gotta be so rude?
Bonus:
(after the wedding)
"What was that about a no?" Billy quipped with his infamous smirk.
"You're lucky I'm sheriff, Hargrove."
Why you gotta be so rude?
693 notes · View notes
kazuhasbunny · 3 years
Note
Giiiirl, imagine you are on Baal's side, you are a general and commanding an army against the rebels' own general, Gorou.
You are all cocky and confident, your years of experience just keeping you aware enough so you won't be consumed by your pride. But oh, your face, when after all of those carefully thought out strategies and intensive training, you end up losing to that mutt.
He is insufferable. Even though his face and body is caked in a mixture only war can give-- blood, sweat and dirt, his smile is the biggest, smuggest thing you have ever seen in your life as a warrior. It does not help that you are on your knees, back stretching forward as the grip he has on your jaw tugs you up with such a force you won't ever believe an archer, a long distance fighter, would posses. The bodies of both sides lay scattered on the defiled land, but the purple spots decorate the most, as his last men stand straight and proud behind him, just as yours do, but the lack the attentiveness. Their tired and bored countenance ticks you in a wrong way. Why they don't look happy by this result?
Does your failure was already predicted? As if this end was something that was already calculated. Taken in account.
The man holding your jaw in a bruising grip let go of you, a mere blink of respite as the next second your left cheek explodes in pain, your vision swaggers for a second as you fall on your right side from the streght of that blow. You shut your eyes and concentrate on your breathing; the fight left you completely drained, as much as your brain screamed at you to stand up and attack that man, your bones and muscles protested as you tensed in hopes of getting up, but ultimately you only made yourself look pitiful.
Gorou turns to were his men are, his gaze lingering for a second on your laughable attempt. His focus switches to the army as he starts to pace from one side to the other, the victory was already decided, but the energy from the feat itself brought a surge of emotions within him.
Another quick glance at you, and something on his mind switched. He was wondering what to do with you; killing you off felt as a meaningless action, as the Shogun won't care for someone as low as yourself. You only were deployed to fight against them to gain time for the real force, to prepare and learn how strong the rebels actually are. With how confident you looked hours ago, it seems that your benevolent Shogun forgot to grace you with such knowledge before sending you off with a bunch of newly trainees.
"First of all, congratulations, my friends, for this well earned victory" Gorou began. The group of men on front of him quickly acknowledge his words, paying attention to what he had to say.
"Even if the outcome resulted as to what we--" He turns around, your eyes opened when he began speaking. You both made eye contact, and Gorou's smirk transformed into a full smile. Was it okay for him to fill such giddiness at the sight of your equally wounded pride and body? After all, he was the one to bring you into that state, he was the one to put you in your rightful place with just one arrow, kneeling on the dirty battlefield as the geo power incased on the arrowhead did its job in petrify you.
The glint of defeat on, dare he say, those gorgeous eyes of yours really made them stand out. Actually, as he approaches your form, he's starting to see some other appealing features he couldn't notice from a longer distance. What was the Shogun thinking, in even allowing you a spot within her number when you clearly weren't made for war?
"--Expected" his pause brought your attention to what he was actually saying. So they had all of this calculated...
"But now, all that is left to do, is tend to the wounded and take care of the dead. Yours and their sacrifice will bring an end to this stupid decree in no time. We need to prepare for tougher, real..." He gives you a glance "...battles from now on. Don't let this win get in your head"
The crowd quietly cheers between them, some of them patting each other on the shoulder for a job well done. All of that camaraderie made your stomach hollow, as you recognise the same speech you have told to your former men after a battle well fought. Those piercing blue eyes of his made you painfully aware of the consecutive part of giving a victory speech, about what is waiting for the losing side, the pit in your stomach grew in size and you really wished that it could swallow you whole before the man in front of you does.
Gorou thrills in your despair. That pretty face of yours plunging into dark dephts, your mind weaving one horrifying destiny after other speaks a lot of your character, as only those who have layed a cruel end to those before them can conceive. He knows what kind of thoughts those are, but as much of a monster as you are viewing him now, he won't do such a thing. He was quite merciful while deciding what your fate will be, even if he didn't pondered a lot in the few minutes after your fall, you are but only a child with a weapon, sent to die by that horrible woman.
And something he prides himself of, is learning from mistakes. He won't throw away something that can fulfill very well other duties than warfare ones.
"Sir! If I may--" a voice spoke between the masses of helms and spears.
"I know, I know. The general" Gorou waves off his hand, his eyes never stranding away from your form for far too long.
A groan escapes your body as his foot steps on your ribcage, not too hard but your weak body sense as if he had nails attached to the sole, your skin felt cold and as if it was being prickled by a ton of needles. He pushes your your body with a gentleness unexpected from an enemy, until you were lying on your back. The new position put pressure in the arrow wound on your right/left shoulder, your dominant arm, and for a second you were grateful of the rigidness granted by the geo element yet covering half of your arm or else you are sure you would have cried in pain, the last thing you want now is to show more weakness that what you are displaying.
"What I am going to do with her... I didn't know myself when we first begun this battle" Gorou continued. He removed his shoe from your chest to your side on the floor, so you'll be cage between his legs while he looks down on you. His arms crossed across his chest and he tilted his head to the side, as in assessing you, taking on your face just as covered in grime as his but not diminish your beauty in the slightest. He really made a good decision in regard of your fate.
The soldiers stood still, the atmosphere felt heavy like the air on a hot summer afternoon that feels stuffy on your lungs as your breath in. Their general had an unseen aura surrounding him, his usual careless actitud makes everyone forget that there's an animal side to him, although they aren't sure they will presence it for the first time, their captain is definitely switching towards that side... they even feel a little bit of pity for the woman under him.
"But as I see her like this, beaten, it makes me remember something of old, that the victorous usually sow. Can you guys guess what it is?" He squats over you, sweetly combing a couple of strands of hair out of your face.
Whispers break among the army after the question. One of them raised his hand, no barely 18 years old as he was one of the shortest in comparison to his bigger and wider shouldered comrades. The young recruit promptly lowered his arm as the general wasn't looking at their direction but that didn't stopped him from answering, eyes shining with excitement:
"They take something as a token of their victory, sir!"
Gorou hummed in affirmation. "Yes, they did. A spoil of war, if you may"
Dread washed over you. He wasn't going to kill you, as a way to demonstrate their superiority? To be taken as a trophy, a possession... He surely won't mean that, right? They are going to torture you and extract every drop of information that you have, until the last thing left in you is blood to shed on their hands as your usefulness is cut short like your troath.
You needed to say something. Anything, as long as it would arise anger within the young male, anything as long as you aren't degrade far from what you have been.
Gorou raised his eyebrows as you coughed. He wasn't expecting a monologue from you but neither silence. Your sudden wish of speaking made the men jump into action, their spears pointing at you with such terrifying speed made you realise furthermore that this battle was destined to end like this, another stripe to the tiger just like a new blow to your pride.
"Just kill me already. I won't say anything, and if given the opportunity, I will end it myself" you spat. You tried to transmit all of your pain, hate and shame in one stare, you won't go happy until you make that man see what you feel, how big your abhorrence is to his being.
All the males stare in silence, until the general himself chuckled. Your cheeks burn with rage, your teeth clenched together as you tried yo surf this flare of emotions. How dare he laugh like that! He already won and you won't speak a thing about the Shogun, why acting like that? Isn't the rebels supposed to act with nobility and fairness?
Gorou took a breath in. He's happy he didn't went for the traditional route and killed you.
"Aw, now you just proved me correct, sweetheart. I'll enjoy making you into a proper wife"
All of that just to say "Imagine being taken as Gorou's prize and he makes you his whore wife" LMAO
(Also? In the part that reader coughs? I wanted to put that Gorou spits on your lips because you looked thirsty AODJFJDC)
THIS 🙏 yes i’d love to be gorou’s housewife he should really take me in and train me to obey him . please i’d do anything for him
AND pleasee omg ... if u actually put that in i’d die on my chair it’s too hot i can’t hjnhnggrh
100 notes · View notes
dercolaris · 3 years
Text
Eleonora
Here you go, @temarcia - already done and translated. Scriddler of course. It’s extremly sad, but welp, I can’t help it. Sort of my style tbh. 
Thanks again to @shin-arei for helping me with the translation <3
The fitting song:
https://youtu.be/ZzqTGTAuzLw
Uhm, yeah.. Have fun everyone.. 
The faint rustling of the wind slipped through the leaks in the dirty window, filling the small room with an unusual background noise. Jonathan lay completely motionless on the soft mattress, just listened to the fascinating sounds around him and registered slightly light-headed how the environment around him slowly changed. He blinked a few times against the persistent darkness, then smiled dejectedly. Basically, those noises were all he had left. As much as the former psychiatrist wished, his eyesight would never return. Hoping for it was a waste of time. The thin man turned on his side and ran his right hand over the velvety fabric of the bedspread. It tickled slightly, leaving an almost pleasant tingling sensation on his demolished skin. The brown-haired man mumbled to himself: "One would think that I would have got used to this eternal darkness, but to say this would be a bold lie." The Master of Fear sighed softly. Speaking his thoughts out loud at least gave him the deceptive impression that someone was right by his side and would give a meaningful answer after a while.
The reality was of course different. That longed-for answer would probably never come. He was a prisoner of his own nightmare and every attempt to break out of it failed miserably due to the fact that no one could turn back time. There was no hope. No light. Just darkness. Jonathan dug his fingers deeply into the warming fabric, burying his face in the comfortable pillow under his head. His body began to tremble by itself. The former psychiatrist didn't really mind the chilling temperature around him, but that evening the coldness held him in her icy hands. A stranglehold he couldn't really escape. The thin man suddenly felt a single tear find its way over a multitude of scars on his cheek and slowly slide down. He wiped his cool skin quickly. This whiny behavior was more than unacceptable for a seasoned academic like him. A thickening lump in his throat, however, indicated that all his efforts to stand against his feelings would fail at some point that night. You could ignore the sadness, banish it, deny it, curse it - in the end it would surface and lead to a downright collapse. With this in mind wasn't it actually wiser to give in to this inner urge to show emotional weakness? Now that he was alone?
The brown-haired man sat on the edge of the bed and put his hands on his knees. A few seconds passed without anything happening, brought a frightening realization for the criminal. He couldn't cry. Jonathan clenched his knees. No more tears would come. He couldn't really give his feelings the needed space, even if it would give him some relief in his troubled soul. It just didn't work. The spiral of thoughts in his mind was spinning again without ceasing. His left hand slid sideways into his straw-like hair and held the heavy head uncertainly on his thin fingers. He chewed his lower lip almost helplessly, staring at the floor with his blind eyes. The Master of Fear was about to rise from the bed when he heard a suspicious noise from the corridor. Out of habit, his opals looked at the door, or at least roughly in its direction. His brain still pretended to recognize shadows and outlines that he had seen sometime before the incident. Well-known places were impressively reconstructed from his memory. It doesn't matter whether these have changed drastically in the meantime.
This often led to unexpected difficulties in his orientation. In general, the familiar gave him security, and every novelty around him immediately stumbled him. The former psychiatrist listened into the darkness. Was it possible that he had just misheard? Quiet steps in the hallway quickly ruled out this possibility. Despite the noises, the gaunt man felt no fear or discomfort. He didn't own anything of value in his apartment and if a homeless person was content to use his nearly empty refrigerator, it shouldn't matter to him anymore. The brown-haired man had stopped eating two weeks ago. His hunger had long since passed and this circumstance made it at least possible for him to stay in his home. Nothing would be worse than wandering around outside Gotham in his wrecked condition to the amusement of all the gleeful people on the streets. The former psychiatrist pressed a hand to his cramping stomach. Even if the stomach occasionally rebelled, in the end it gave up constantly crying out for food. Most likely, the organ knew that this would remain just a wish and that nutrients would no longer force their way into the esophagus.
The pain slowly subsided. A cold wind played around his bony figure. The Master of Fear had long since decided on a quick way out of life and it was only a matter of time before death would knock on his door. It wasn't the plan to actually go the long road of starvation, but as long as he didn't know exactly how to do it, there was at least the hope of not waking up one morning due to lack of energy. The steps in the corridor came slowly closer and suddenly fell silent on the other side of the door. The thin man waited cautiously. The screeching of the hinges snuggled painfully against his ears, signaling that someone was entering the room. There was a thud, and then - silence. Suddenly it had become so quiet. Where was the wind? Where were the cracking branches? Where were the ravens in the tree tops? Jonathan looked around, disoriented, looking in the dark for the unannounced visitor.
After a while he heard the unusually low voice of an old friend: “Hey John. Don't worry, yeah. It's just me.” The former psychiatrist tried to fake a smile. Slight goose bumps crept down his back and gradually spread over his skin. He looked in the direction of the visitor and spoke in an alarming weak voice: "Edward. What a pleasant surprise. I'm very happy to see you again.” Those words hurt more than he expected. The former psychiatrist closed his eyes and heavily swallowed his emerging emotions. He heard the quiet steps again. Suddenly the tinkerer sat down next to him, the mattress gave way under the weight of the black-haired man. The Riddler breathed evenly, a long-forgotten warmth emanating from his body. The younger one finally spoke calmly: “You can hardly talk about seeing me again, right? I heard what happened and, yeah, how should I say that. I'm sorry, John.” The Master of Fear shrugged his shoulders slightly. Before he could reply, the other went on quietly: “I wasn't sure whether I should really come over or not. I mean, after the whole Waylon thing, you suddenly distanced yourself from everything and everyone and stopped showing yourself in public. Fuck, the underground has already made bets on whether you are dead or not."
The lean man laughed dryly at this message. He shuddered from the surrounding cold and had the strong impulse to take refuge in the warm embrace of the inventor. Contrary to his wishes, he replied exhausted: “I hope you were right with your bet. As you can see, I'm still alive.” To his astonishment, Edward didn't react calmly as usual. He didn't seem to be particularly amused by the statement. As if to confirm, the black-haired man hissed under clenched teeth: “It's not funny at all, John. Seriously. I just got half a shock when I walked in the door. You got so damn thin. Is there anything left at all? Only skin and bones it seems. When was the last time you ate something?” The former psychiatrist pressed his lips tightly together and stared at the floor in dismay. There was an awkward silence. Suddenly the older man felt the hand of the inventor on his. The Riddler slowly put his fingers around his, warmed his chilled skin. Even without his eyesight, the Master of Fear knew that the other was staring at him, waiting for answers.
He finally replied hesitantly: "I'm fine Edward. I don't need any help.” Both knew that this claim was nothing more than a lie. The younger one tightened the grip on his hand and didn't seem to let go of it again. Jonathan only shivered harder. The contrast between the inviting warmth of the black-haired man and his dying body increased with every passing second. He really wanted to be close, but at the same time there was a nagging fear of rejection. A monster like him was no longer allowed to receive affection. The tinkerer grumbled sourly: “You can fool the rest of the world, John, but not me. Should I put a funnel in your mouth and stuff you with food until you have some meat on your ribs again? Or would you prefer a cursed feeding tube? Your fucking decision.” The brown-haired man winced noticeably. He knew that he had always meant a lot to the younger man. Probably more than he wanted to admit.
There was a deeply hidden passion between them that had grown with each meeting in the past and almost exploded before his imprisonment. Only their worthless pride had prevented them from giving in to their lust in the end. But this was once upon a time. Jonathan was more than certain that the inventor had only come to him out of pity and would now look around for a more handsome partner. After all, the inventor wasn't exactly unattractive. Edward suddenly sighed softly and seemed to be reaching for something on the floor. Probably his shoulder bag. The black-haired man spoke calmly: “I brought you something. You have told me often enough that you love Edgar Allan Poe and that I should read something from him when I got the chance. I followed your advice.” With these words he put an arm around the older man and pulled him closer to his chest. He gasped in surprise, but did not evade the embrace.
He could hear the Riddler open a book and slowly turn the pages. Jonathan's heart suddenly began to beat faster. A few seconds passed before the younger one finally started reading aloud: "Eleonora by Edgar Allan Poe from 1842. I am come of a race noted for vigor of fancy and ardor of passion." The inventor's voice lit up the room with its soft sound, penetrating like a light through the darkness. The Master of Fear listened carefully. An indefinable feeling spread in his soul, touched him at points that he believed he had lost for a long time. Each additional line of the short story carried the gaunt man on, taking him to places he had avoided out of fear. Places of memories. Mostly memories of better times.
Tears pooled in his gray eyes, slowly running down his cheeks and falling unchecked off his chin. Edward, however, just read on, bravely struggled through the sometimes difficult formulations. "… for the Spirit of Love reigneth and ruleth, and, in taking to thy passionate heart her who is Ermengarde, thou art absolved, for reasons which shall be made known to thee in Heaven, of thy vows unto Eleonora.” The Riddler finished the short story, carefully closed the book. He apparently put it aside and finally wrapped his other arm tightly around the trembling figure beside him. The former psychiatrist cried silently, his weak fingers clutching the black-haired man's shoulders tightly. Edward whispered hoarsely: "John, I ask you, whatever you do, do not give up. I can really take a lot of your bullshit. Your hatred, your scorn, your rejection. If you scream in my ear right away that I should please get the fuck out of your life, that's okay too, just please don't die. I would not stand that. Your death is also my end and I'm afraid of dying so early in my life.”
The brown-haired man pressed his eyes tighter together and only held on to the younger man even more. The tinkerer slowly put the blanket around their body, giving the former psychiatrist the long-awaited warmth. The silence this time was extraordinarily beautiful. Reassuring. Balm for a broken soul. The younger one finally pulled him onto his lap and closed his arms around his narrow hips, pressing his fingertips into the worn clothes. Jonathan's lips quivered when he breathed softly: "Don't let go of me, Edward. Please, don't go. Stay."
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mgkconfessions · 3 years
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Jacksonville Kiss 3/3
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If I didn't know how obsessed these two are with publicity and their public image and how everything about their relationship is pre-planned and focused on PR, I would have still called that make out session on stage a kiss for the cameras! ^^ It's like they wanted to prove everyone wrong who had ever commented that they lack chemistry, emotions, have no passion and their relationship looks dead and miserable. And on top of that trying to make up for that quick birthday peck which left Megan unsatisfied and "humiliated" in front of everyone. I've never seen a more desperate couple feeling the sudden need to show everyone how passionate and hot their relationship is! ^^ I guess all the comments did get read and bothered them a lot, but when even young people on tiktok call you an attention seeker and your kiss performative although that is exactly your target group, then who are they still trying to convince of their love? :D I absolutely believe that Megan hated how people didn't see them as a hot and heavy couple and then with Kells disappointing birthday kiss and lack of emotions in almost every paparazzi walk lately and people noticing that, she had enough and wanted her big moment on stage making out with a rock star! She wasn't even standing there during his performance, she had walked to the side of the stage before the last song ended, so she could have her moment on stage in front of cameras and 5000 people and didn't she look content with herself afterwards lmao! ^^ For family and friends it's only the quick peck on the lips, but for strangers and the public they pull out the big kisses. Like anons said they kissed as if they had an audience and that alone tells you everything about that moment and how "natural" it was. I'm still wondering where exactly Megan is being shy and doesn't like the attention? :D But my favourite moment of that kiss was the moment right after they were done. You'd think that after such a passionate and amazing make out session on stage with THE Megan Fox that any man would have the biggest smile on his face and hold her in his arm or do some other loving gesture or say something, but not like Kells, who dropped her and without taking one more look at her walked away with a completely neutral face as if he hadn't just engaged in a heavy and over the top cringe PDA moment. You have to love him for that attitude tho! He said yes to the performative kiss to appear like a true hot rock star couple for once, but no to anything involving real emotions and any real reaction afterwards. He gives Megan and their teams what they want and the people probably expect, but he's just never fully engaged and working with them. A part of him is always ruining these moments for publicity that Megan is living for just like when they do their staged paparazzi walks and Kells looks miserable while Megan tries to look like a happy and in love couple. He shows up but he isn't really there. I'd like to think and you can disagree with me on this that it's his way of rebelling against all of this by showing up and giving them what they want, but he treats it like a job that he has to do although he hates it. His friends and employees filming them and hyping them up only shows more how he's surrounded by people who love everything publicity related about them too and who would encourage anything pr related.
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