#because their morals go strong with being together its like a balance nearly?

[flashdoesahundredyarddash]

some people keep saying that bart being hal and barry's child is a bad idea (I mean I really get the idea cuz hal's always away for space missions and barry would end raising him alone for most of the time + hal's commitment issues)

but idk I still can't help myself like It's really cute I like giving my otp a child

😭😭

I LIKE THIS IDEA. Honestly, I feel that as they first start to date, and a good point with Hal's commitment, Hal doesn't exactly see himself as a father? (<- Also I feel this is exactly him though. And not to mention how much I HATEEEEE that they gave HalCarol a kid because none of them would ever actually want a baby because they're so cooped with work and wanting to make it out for each other rather than always forcing themselves to marry, even with Carol wanting to move progressively with a relationship.)

Back to HAL, I mean he's great with taking care of kids and getting along with them, but I don't think he could want kids. This goes with Barry as well (<- They both are deadly afraid of committing to something that means they could lose someone), he's great with goods but he feels he couldn't be a good dad because of Dawn and Don scolding him from the future. Then again if they both had to take care of a kid (such as Bart, which I think is cute but Max is also the caretaker for him ngl... I think they would be great with Wally TOO because of Brave and The Bold shenanigans. One of my favorites <- Hal calling Wally son when he had the green lantern ring :((( )

BUT YES, I think they would be good as caretakers in a way that makes me emotional. Because they would want to try again with what they lacked during their childhood growing up...

[aotopmha]

My biggest issue with Dawntrail is that the story is starting to repeat itself thematically, but my second-biggest one is that all of the concise, meaningful scenes are sandwiched between walls of text. So it's nice to see some acknowledgement regarding that issue.

(Spoilers for all of Dawntrail.)

What I'm worried about is them going to the complete opposite direction regarding writing because that's the vibe I get from most of their corrections.

I hope that the takeaway from the criticism isn't Wuk having flaws at all or there being world building at all in the MSQ.

Because Wuk is such a ballsy character to exist: unconventionally attractive, flawed main female lead; if the takeaway is that we just need a confident character that never screws up and doesn't need to grow, we just get a boring character.

And exploring new cultures and new perspectives is part of not only what makes a great adventure story, but is a great basis for character struggles.

The issue with Wuk aren't her flaws in themselves, just that there is too much of her and comparatively less of the other characters.

And the issue with exploring cultures in the MSQ isn't that they exist at all, just that they're presented in a wall of text and ultimately only matter "thematically" and for Wuk's growth, with other characters' stories being behind her's in priority.

A plot hook, connection to the past, a mystery and answers to it and having a specific focus point (for example, a character) immediately make a story more compelling. And a bunch of the areas did not really have that or repeated it with Wuk.

Shadowbringers did the character distribution the best because each zone was essentially about a character, so nobody of the central cast got left behind.

I really think Wuk should've been a throughline character like the Exarch and Krile, Erenville, Koana, Bakool Ja Ja and Zoraal Ja should've had a zone each to themselves as characters, with connective tissue between and it all coming together at the end.

We even kind of get it. The emphasis is just not always on character arcs, but instead very specifically the fictional cultures themselves, the world.

Which doesn't necessarily always create emotional attachment.

In Shadowbringers the Chais, Runar, Tesleen, the miners and Fae Ul are "new" anchor points in a new world, while the Scions are "old" anchor points in a new world.

Their cultures still exist, but their culture is mostly expressed and explained through them, as part of their clearly defined characters, rather than kind of next to them by comparatively generic faces.

In Tural Wuk Lamat is often the only anchor, with no outside or inside distinction.

I realised, out of any of the "local" characters in the first three zones, next to the claimants, Wuk Evu is the strongest actual individual personality.

I think this is why Mamook and everything after it is so much more positively viewed: the world building and character writing become much more balanced after that point.

Mamook was a clear focus point for Bakool Ja Ja and his family (father and mother) and how their culture effects and relates to them.

Gulool Ja Ja's death creates specific strong character motivations that drive the rest of the story.

Solution Nine is a clear focus point for Erenville and Cachiua (and Sphene and Otis – see you can share screentime between characters) and about its specific brand of culture shock and the tragedy that comes from everything to do with the moral aspects of the system.

And Living Memory brought everything in all of the zones together.

The scenes with Namikka and Krile's parents are in part such successful scenes to me because we finally not only got actual character substance, but also interesting world building next to it. And Otis and Cachiua are right behind.

Even some of the scattered scenes with Thancred and Urianger, Alisae and G'raha become highlights because instead of reading a wall of text, it's just characters talking to each other.

I hope they'll take away the right lessons from this.

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt. 3

Pairing: Eventual Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: Clumsy injury, more stupid fighting Length: 2.5k Notes: If these two dummies could have one (1) adult conversation they’d be in bed together by now. Instead, we get this! *waves around vaguely*

PART ONE, TWO

Money was tight. You had been trying to ignore the dwindling stack of cash, telling yourself that you didn’t actually need to fix the cracked drywall, replace the old oven, or fill in the missing patches of shingles. 

That ignorance had finally come to bite you in the butt. You were rudely woken at three a.m. to the clap of thunder and the pat-pat-pat of rain hitting the house. You loved storms, the excitement of the lighting, and how fresh the air smelled once the rain had passed. 

You rolled over onto your back so you could watch the lightning flashing between the cracks of your curtains. A tap on your forehead quickly destroyed the excitement you were feeling. The wet ‘splat’ was quickly followed by another, and another, and before you were able to scramble up and search for the closest thing resembling a bucket, it had turned into a steady stream.

“Fuuuuuuuck!”

The next morning, the sun rose and shed its light upon a beautiful scene. The leaves, now free from dust, were beginning to turn, the grass glimmered with raindrops, and the sky was clear. You, on the other hand, were a verifiable disaster. 

Hair unkempt, heavy bags under your eyes, and wearing the first items of clothing you could find in your scramble last night. Your exhaustion was so complete, it hadn’t even dawned on you to change or freshen up a bit before going out into the public eye. All you could focus on was getting to Hank’s Hardware and buying all the shingles you could get your hands on.

Once again, however, you were harshly reminded of your dwindling savings and just how expensive fixing up a house could be. The owner, Allan if you remembered correctly, had shown you the right size and style for your home’s roof and you nearly choked at the price.

“You know,” he had said gently, “we do have the option of a payment plan. I don’t let just anyone use it either. It’s for trusted customers. I have a good gut on who I can trust.”

“Really?” You asked, feeling a little pathetic while also knowing now was not the time to let pride ruin such a good thing. “And, um, what does your gut tell you about me?”

“Welllll,” he smiled, hooking his thumbs into his suspenders and leaning back a little to size you up. “You’re hard-working, feel like you have something to prove, won’t back down from a challenge, and are in way over your head with that damn old house.”

“Oh.”

“No offense, ma’am! Sometimes I forget myself and talk to strangers the same way I’d talk to my friends.” He patted your forearm gently then hooked it back into his suspenders, pretending he didn’t notice you jumping at the physical contact. “But it’s true. No denying you won’t be able to shingle all by yourself. I’d offer, but I’m in no shape to be climbing up roofs.”

“That’s very sweet of you, truly. But I’ll manage! I doubt I could afford a handyman, so it’ll be me and my stubborn self scrambling around up there.” You joked, but it fell a little flat since the both of you knew it was the truth.

“I’ve got an idea...” Hank trailed off, his gaze searching around by the till. “Maybe you two can help each other out?” He fiddled at the computer for a minute, then grabbed a flyer from the corkboard mounted behind the counter before handing you two pieces of paper. One was a receipt of what you owed him after this latest excursion and a detailed timeline of when small payments could be made. 

Glancing up at him, you gave him a watery smile and thanked him for being so kind. Allan waved you off and pointed to the second paper.

‘Help Wanted’ it read, ‘Morales Acres. Light physical labour, quiet environment, rate of pay dependent on quality of work.’

“So friendly and welcoming,” you murmured, sarcastically, under your breath. Not quietly enough though because Allan snorted out a laugh and agreed that the ad was worded very abruptly. However, he vetted for the owner of the farm and suggested you head over to see if he would be willing to trade labour for labour.

Or at the very least, you thought, pay you so you can afford a roofer.

Following the directions Allan had provided for you, you quickly found Morales Acres. Surprisingly, it was a very short distance from your own home, making you wonder if the owner had been one of the people to drop by during your first weeks here.

The driveway was a beautiful, winding drive. The view of the farm was obscured by thickets of trees on either side of the road but you managed to catch glimpses of a pond and a few bales of hay before rounding a bend and driving into the yard.

A small gasp left your lips at the sight. It was picturesque! Something out of a travel magazine, or on every city girl’s Pinterest board. The driveway came to an end in front of a statuesque barn painted in the classic red and white, stone walls cordoned off certain areas that, from where you sat, looked like they could be used to house sheep or hens. A few small sheds were lined up along the other edge of the yard but the main attraction was the neatly lined rows of apple trees all heavy with fruit.

Climbing out of the cab, you slowly made your way into the yard with your mouth hanging open dumbly. It was just so peaceful here and it was obvious that the owner cared deeply for the property. You were enchanted and fell immediately in love.

“You must be the help Allan called to say he was sending over,” a warm voice rang out.

Looking around for the source your gaze widened, then immediately hardened, when you caught sight of who was talking to you.

“You!”

“You?!”

To say it had been a smooth business agreement would be a total lie. You and Market Asshole, Frankie you reminded yourself to call him, had bickered back and forth for the better part of an hour before shaking hands. Surprisingly, you had both argued more for the other person’s benefit, something you had been mulling over since.

If this guy was such an ass, why was he also acting like his help with your renovations wouldn’t be worth as much as you picking apples? You knew your presence disturbed his peace, and that you weren’t as strong as he might have hoped his helper would be, and he still hadn’t trusted you with all the workings of his orchard. 

So, while you weren’t going to argue anymore, you knew you were getting the better end of the deal: you help him gather his harvest and get it safely stored in the barn, then he spends the same amount of hours helping you. While the weather during September was prone to drizzle, you had convinced him that a tarp thrown over the baldest patches of roof would be fine and that the apples couldn’t wait. 

He had grumpily conceded your point but had sworn that as soon as the last of the fruit was picked he’d be over to do a proper job of it. So continued the uneasy truce between the two of you for the past four weeks. The first week was the hardest as your hands, unaccustomed to work, blistered, and your muscles ached from sudden use. You had initially tried to pass the time by making conversation but you got the hint and stayed quiet once Frankie started choosing trees farther and farther from yours.

Slowly, however, the blisters healed and gave way to callouses. Your muscles became accustomed to the work and you were able to carry twice the amount as you had started off with. Your home could now boast electricity and running water everywhere it should be, and the pile of discarded furniture had been reduced to ash by a spectacular bonfire which Jacquie and her family had joined you in admiring.

Today started off as a normal day. You showed up for harvesting at the break of dawn, having discovered you much preferred the cool morning air over being up on a ladder with the midday sun beating down on you. The trees were obscured by a low fog that had yet to burn up, but you knew what section you needed to start on. 

Enjoying the way the fog enveloped you, making you feel like you were in a magical world, you began to hum and your steps took on a dreamy dance-like quality. You had never taken lessons or had even been allowed to make such a spectacle of yourself while living with Brad but now you felt free enough to spin, twirl, and glide. Overcome with the joy your freedom gave you, you began to belt out “These Are a Few of my Favourite Things”, The Sound of Music having been played on repeat when you were a child. 

Once you reached the ladder, you hoisted the basket onto your back and continued to sing whatever songs you could remember while you worked. A particularly boisterous rendition of “Do Re Mi” had you flinging your arm out wide and leaning back on the ladder for a dramatic finish.

The apples threw you off balance. 

With a screech, you fell backward, managing to twist yourself around to land awkwardly on your hands and knees instead of on the basket of apples strapped to your back. You seemed to have come away unscathed, with just scratched knees and a throbbing in one wrist. Thankfully it wasn’t your dominant hand.

“Whoa!” Frankie called out, catching sight of you on the ground with the ladder tipped on its side, “Everything okay? Are you okay?”

Coming to a skidding stop next to you, he grasped the basket and slipped it off your back with ease. 

You took a few deep breaths and nodded. “Fine! Fine, just bruised knees and ego...” you assured him.

“What were you thinking?!” He tore into you, “You could have broken your neck! Or ruined a whole barrel of apples! Then what would I do?! This job doesn’t come with health insurance for Christ's sakes!” Running his hands through his curly, brown hair he let out a huff of air and walked over to where your ladder lay on the ground.

“Un-be-fucking-lievable!” You called out, incredulously. While trying to get to your feet, to march over and wag your finger in his face, you put too much pressure on your injured wrist that caused pain to scream down your arm.

You managed to mask the cry of pain as a cry of frustration and got to your feet. Surreptitiously cradling your hand against your chest, you grabbed another basket and walked past Frankie to start climbing the ladder again. Looking at the ground so he wouldn’t see the tears of pain in your eyes, you mumbled, “I’ll be more careful, alright? I’m sorry.”

Stopping your ascent with a hand on your arm he stuttered out what might have been the beginning of an apology but he couldn’t quite seem to put the right words together so he just cleared his throat.

“Just...” he said in a much softer tone, “just be more careful. Okay? I can’t lose my best worker.” 

The lame joke made you smile despite yourself. 

“Employee of the month,” you replied in a dry tone, “hurrah.” 

You shared wry smiles while a silent apology passed between the two of you. His dark brown eyes held a warmth to them you had never noticed before. Their hue reminding you of every tree in the orchard from the early light to the sunset, golden flecks reminiscent of the sun. His face, weathered from so much time spent outdoors, was marked with laugh lines, worry lines, and a small scar gracing his left cheek. 

Your eyes wandered past the scar to note how long his scruffy facial hair had grown and how it had started to obscure those pleasantly pouty lips. 

Then, with a start, you realized you were staring at this infuriating man’s lips like a hormonal teenager. With an embarrassed squeak, you quickly scurried up the ladder, hooking your elbow around each rung to avoid any more pressure on your wrist.

To say Frankie was coping well with having someone around would be a gross overstatement. 

It’s not that he didn’t like the company or wanted to be alone. The problem was that he was starting to like her company too much, to care too much. And caring too much had been the root cause of all Frankie’s sorrows.

First, there had been his Dad, trying to impress the man who never even wanted kids. Then the force, always feeling like he needed to prove himself and desperate for praise. After that was his wife, ex-wife, and trying to be someone he wasn’t so she would stay interested and in love. The pressure created by caring about these people and the expectations they had for him drove him to abuse drugs. Then his friends came calling and Frankie went against his gut because they had cared so deeply about something and he had cared deeply for them.

His wife, his kid, his family, his job, his friends. He had cared more than they did and he had come away worse off. At least now he was clean and sober, and was very aware of the irony of him now making and selling an alcoholic drink.

No, it was best to stay alone. He loved too freely and put too much stock in being loved back and every. single. time. it hurt him.

So, he closed himself off from you. Initially, he didn’t think it was going to be an issue, especially considering how you two had met. But then he found himself smiling at your stories, idly leaning against a branch so he could watch your graceful moments. He hated watching you leave, knowing you were going home to that piece of shit house that he should really be fixing up for you.

He recognized the signs and nipped them in the bud; working farther away, replying to questions with the fewest possible words, focusing purely on work, and maintaining a professional relationship. It pained him to push you away but deep down he knew it was best for the both of you.

Which brings him back to this moment.

Frankie was too stunned to notice your awkward climb up the ladder. Standing there, dumbly, for another few seconds. Wondering, all the way back to the idling tractor, what the hell had just happened.

One minute he was just driving the tractor minding his own business and the next he was having a mild heart attack after seeing his only worker laying limp on the ground. Then, after arguing like usual, you had shared a...a moment and stared at his mouth almost long enough to tempt him to use it.

Part Four

If you’d like to be tagged please send an ask!

@rebelliouscat @pedro4ever @speakerforthedead0 @yespolkadotkitty @ilikechocolatemilkh @weirdowithnobeardo @pedro-pastel @disgruntledspacedad @a-skov @trash-dino-5000 @reader-s-cantina

[ordinaryschmuck]

Why I (Want to) Love Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure

Salutations random people on the internet who most likely won’t read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

When I heard Disney was making an animated series based on Tangled, acting as a continuation from the original movie, my initial thought was, "Why?"

Sure, Disney is infamous for its unnecessary sequels of the story after happily ever after, with the many, many, many failures that follow suit. Even then, though, most of these continuations were movies that kind of have the potential to tell more of a story. But what more could be said about Tangled? Sorry to spoil a movie that's over ten years old at this point, but by the end of it: Rapunzel lost her golden hair, was reunited with her parents, fell in love, and lived happily ever after. Her losing the golden hair is the most essential part of that list because how can you do a series based on a Disney princess when her most iconic feature is gone? Then I found out that the series forced a way for her hair to come back, and my new initial thought became, "Oh man. This is gonna suck, isn't it?"

Despite the hesitation, I decided to give it a chance anyway. After all, I've been pleasantly surprised before. Things like My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, The Mitchells vs. the Machines, and even The Owl House (yes, really), were shows (and a movie) that I didn't think would be that special. Only to find myself enjoying nearly every minute. So after watching Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure, I can certainly say I was surprised...but it was entirely for the wrong reasons.

And to explain how requires spoilers. So if you haven't checked the series out yet, I highly suggest you do it to form your own opinion. Just keep in mind that it's a bit of a mess, but it can be an enjoyable mess...sometimes...let me explain.

WHAT I LIKED

The Animation/Art Style: The series swapping from 3D to 2D might have been the most brilliant decision anyone could have ever made with this series. Usually, when an animated movie gets turned into a show, the most noticeable downgrade is always the animation. Whether it’s not as detailed or not as fluid, it's always subjective that the movie is better animated than the series. But by switching up the styles, the contrast becomes objective instead. 2D and 3D animation each have their pros and cons, so deciding which one is better is nothing more than a matter of opinion. So by changing the style, Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure avoids getting complaints of being a downgrade from the original movie. It also helps that the art style of the series is really unique.

The best way to describe how the show looks is that it's like a coloring book brought to life. At times, everything looks like it was drawn and colored in with crayons, which sounds like an insult, but in actuality, it's one of the best features of the series. As much as I love most animated shows nowadays, I will admit, they all look a little too similar at times. Then here comes Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure, which tries to incorporate a whole new style that successfully sets it apart from most shows.

As for the animation itself, it's really well-made! It's remarkably expressive when required, while the movements are really fluid during the correct scenes. Sure the fighting can be a little floaty during some action set pieces (yes, those exist here), but the dialogue and comedic moments are really where the series shines with its animation. I may have problems with the series as a whole, but I give credit where credit is due for the perfectly executed effort that I see in every episode in terms of animation.

Rapunzel and Eugene’s relationship: This was not something I was expecting to enjoy from the series. In the movie, Rapunzel and Eugene were fine. They were the typical Disney couple that worked off of each other enough that it was always entertaining, even if it was unbelievable that they fell deeply in love with each other after, like, two days. They weren't bad, but they weren't anything to go crazy over.

But the writers for the series said, "You know what, let's make these two adorable in nearly every scene they're in." And they are!

Even though I don't believe in their relationship in the movie, I fully believe it here. Both characters have a large amount of faith in one another on top of having endless love for their partner. Like how Eugene knew Rapunzel would be fine when taking out an airship or how Rapunzel couldn't bring herself to say a bad thing about Eugene when making Cassandra a sparring dummy of him. It's legitimately pleasant to watch, to the point where I put Rapunzel and Eugene in my top ten list of favorite fictional couples. They're that good to me, and it's one of the reasons why I don't jump on the bandwagon of shipping the two main female characters together. I'm all for LGBTQA+ representation, but give Cassandra her own girlfriend. Rapunzel's taken, and most of my enjoyment of this show comes from her and her man. So, you know, keep things as they are.

Cassandra (Seasons One and Two): Seeing how I've already mentioned her, let's talk about Cassandra, shall we? Because when making a series based on a movie that had only four prominent characters, with two of them being comedic animal sidekicks, you're going to need to introduce more members to the main cast to write more potential stories. And Cassandra, in Seasons One and Two (I'll get to Season Three), is a worthy addition. She acts as a strict straight man (I know the irony) who interacts well with Rapunzel and clashes perfectly with Eugene on occasion. She was passably entertaining in Season One and developed amazingly in Season Two. Her growing frustrations with Rapunzel's actions lead to a slow build-up that made her betrayal heartbreaking but somewhat understandable. And as for the results in that betrayal...yeah, I'll get into that later. For now, I'll just say that Cassandra was a pleasant addition to the main cast, especially when she was a part of the main trio, and she's yet another good surprise that the writers supplied for the series.

The Songs: The songs are...not going to be for everyone. Most of them are passable yet kind of generic, while others sound like they belong on Disney Junior (Looking at you, "Bigger Than That"). But when Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure makes a hit, MAN, it is a home run. Numbers like "Ready As I'll Ever Be" and "Nothing Left to Lose" are sung phenomenally, orchestrated well, and are songs I can listen to on repeat multiple times. And "Waiting in the Wings" is not only something I consider to be the best song in the series, but it's also something I'd place as high up on Disney's best due to how f**king incredible it is. "Waiting in the Wings" is a powerful ballad that manages to be both tragic yet inspiring on top of how well it sums up Cassandra as a character. The writers may not always be on top of their game when it comes to music, but songs like these prove that they know how to earn that Disney name.

And that’s all I have for the likes...Oh boy. That’s not a good thing is it?

WHAT I DISLIKED

It Peaked at Season One: It did. It really did.

Season One felt like the writers had a grip on what type of show they wanted: A slice-of-life series with Rapunzel dealing with the issues of her kingdom with a meager threat of these black rocks growing in the background. It was all cute and well-balanced for the most part, but that all disappears in Season Two. Because now it's sort of about this adventure, but because Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure set itself as a slice-of-life series, there need to be these small-scale stories that intertwine the grand narrative being told. The issue is that the story comes to a grinding halt one too many times as fans are forced to sit through these filler episodes that, while not all of them are bad, still feel like a distraction. And by Season Three, the series does feel more focused while having some slice-of-life episodes added to the ongoing story instead of distracting us from it. But the writing isn't as strong, there are several plot holes in the narrative (how did Rapunzel's sunstone get into her dress?), and there is way too much time going back and forth on Cassandra's morality. They claim that she's a villain while arguing that there might still be some good in her, and they continue this train of thought for nine episodes when it really could have been settled in two. For me, it's a bad sign for a series when the first season is the best one. Because if it's all downhill from there, what's the point of even watching?

It Tries to be Epic: This might have been the worst decision the writers could have made.

Now, here's the thing: I don't mind grand epic tales of adventure and battles against demons. If anything, I'm all for them...when it's appropriate and fits with the tone of the series.

Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure suffers a similar problem Frozen II has, in which the writers felt like a big, life-threatening adventure was the perfect continuation of a meager, personal story about the relationships of characters. It isn't. If anything, it's completely missing the mark about what the original story was about. And sure, sometimes writers can succeed in telling personal stories through grand adventures. Just look at The Owl House and parts of Amphibia. But with those shows, it's established within the first few episodes that action and peril will be a series staple. With Tangled, while there was some action and peril, it's all very subdued compared to how high the stakes got raised in later episodes in the show. Especially in the series finale.

And, I mean, c'mon. You're making Rapunzel an action hero?

Judy Hopps? Yes.

Moana? Maybe.

Raya? Most definitely.

But Rapunzel? The character who’s all about optimism and seeing the best of others. That's the character you're going to morph into a hero that fights against an evil demon laid dormant for years? Did you even watch the original movie? Yeah, sorry, but I just don't buy it.

If you want to tell an epic story that gets the blood pumping for fans addicted to adventure, go for it! See where the wind takes you. But make sure to set that tone as early as possible while also making sure that it fits with the characters. If not, the end result is a series that feels like it's trying to be something it’s not.

Eugene is Kind of an Idiot at Times: It should be noted that Movie-Eugene and Series-Eugene are practically two different characters. In the film, Eugene was more or less the straight man, as he often questions the wackiness in the world around him and keeping Rapunzel grounded in reality. For the series, most of that personality got transferred to Cassandra. Thus making Eugene's new role in the series act as the egotistical imbecile. Sure, he had those moments in the film, but not as frequently, and it really pains me when the writers really lean hard into a minor aspect of his personality. Sometimes there are moments when Eugene acts like his original self. But it's all small scenes that are spread apart with entire episodes where he has half a brain cell. I'm sure some people didn't mind this change to the character, but as someone who adores the movie version of Eugene, I can't help but feel disappointed.

The Villains are the Worst: Now, I don't mean the one-off villains that show up, cause some chaos for a bit, and disappear at the end of the episode. Those are characters with fun personalities, occasionally cool designs, and do their job as villains of the week. It doesn't matter if their motivations are laughably simple, as their purpose is to be enjoyable characters above anything else. So I actually enjoy those villains...it's the ones that act as season-long antagonists that really grind my gears.

The purpose behind these types of foes is to build up how evil they are throughout the season. The issue is that the writers try to give these characters, or at least two of them, a point. To be fair, this can work. Just look at Killmonger from Black Panther and sometimes Karli Morgenthau from The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. You understand and probably even sympathize with the logic and reasoning these characters have. It's just that their actions couldn't be farther from what you would do. The problem with Varian and Cassandra is that they have the motivation, but it's not written suitably for the story.

Cassandra is a whole can of worms I'll get to in a minute, but Varian is someone I can easily discuss for a brief time. Because while I can comprehend his pain for having his father frozen in yellow rock, I don't think turning evil is the best decision to go with that character. Because A. Everything is his fault. He blames Rapunzel for not helping him, but even if she didn't have a crisis to deal with, there was nothing she could have done to stop it. His frustrations are not only unjustified, but given the fact that this wouldn't have happened if he listened to his father in the first place, it feels like him becoming evil is too drastic of a turn. And B. Varian worked much better as a supporting character rather than a primary antagonist. He was just this hopeful, if not a clumsy scientist who wanted to prove himself, who causes minor catastrophes due to not thinking ahead. Turning a character like Varian into a villain is a bit of a misstep because if the guy acts hilariously incompetent as a good guy, it makes little sense to have him be intelligent and ten steps ahead of Rapunzel when being evil. If he were to become more serious and careful when helping the rest of the main cast, I'd consider that character progression done properly. But becoming a villain is just an overreaction.

However, none of that compares with my issues with the main antagonist of the series: Zhan Tiri. This goes back to my problems with the series making itself too epic. Because if Zhan Tiri existed in any other show, I probably wouldn't have any problem with her. She's built up well throughout all three seasons and is kind of threatening at times. But she doesn't belong in a series based on a movie that dealt with a small, personal issue where it wasn't even the character who killed the villain in the end. It was her love interest and animal sidekick. Even if Zhan Tiri works well as a character, the fact that it doesn't feel like she belongs in the show makes her too distracting to enjoy. And that's why these villains suck. If not poorly written, they don't belong in a series that should focus on small-scale issues. And if you can functionally write an antagonist that appears for only one episode but flounder with ones that show up in several, well, that's just embarrassing.

Cassandra (Season 3): OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH BOY, do I have some words to express with this character. Like with Movie-Eugene and Series-Eugene, Cassandra from Seasons One and Two is frustratingly different from the psychotic IDIOT from Season Three. Basically, just take the issues I have with Varian, multiply them by ten, add them with some bafflingly stupid decisions, and you still wouldn't get how much Season Three-Cassandra frustrates me!

First off, her motivation...what the f**k were the writers thinking? The big reason why Cassandra betrays Rapunzel and motivates all of her misdeeds was that Cassandra's mother was Mother Gothal...EXPLAIN THAT LOGIC TO ME?! Because Cassandra should know what type of woman Mother Gothal was. She should know what Mother Gothal did to Rapunzel in the first eighteen years of her life. So how is Cassandra being abandoned by Gothal the central motivator to cut ties with Rapunzel, who is probably an even bigger victim in this scenario!? Seriously, Rapunzel was cut off from the rest of the world and treated as an unknowing prisoner because she was beneficial to Gothal. Cassandra was adopted into a household with mutual love and got to actually live her life. In no way does it make sense for her to be angry at Rapunzel.

Nor does it make sense that the writers try to play it off as a good thing in the song "Crossing the Line!" Sure, it sounds nice, but thematically, it gives across the opposite feelings that the audience should have. Because if Cassandra cutting ties with Rapunzel is meant to be tragic and awful, why is the music suggesting it's the best possible thing that's ever happened for the character? If you like the song, fine, but even you have to admit that it's thematic nonsense.

But, sure. Cassandra's evil now, and she considers it a good thing. Whatever. I'll take it as long as it leads to good stories...but here's the thing: In the penultimate episode before the three-part series finale, Cassandra asks a question. A question I would have never expected her to ask, despite everything that has happened in the last season. A question that was so baffling, I had to legitimately pause the episode to process the fact that she asked something so stupid. Because Cassandra, the character who is intelligent and grounded in reality, asked, "Am I the bad guy?"

I was honestly shocked to find out she was shocked! How, in the flying, everlasting, cock-a-doodle-doodling F**K does a person like her not pick up that maybe, just maybe, she isn't the hero in this story!? Call me crazy, but endangering the lives of people you once called friends and family, dressing in black, AND HAVING A GIANT EVIL-LOOKING TOWER MADE OUT OF F**KING SPIKES aren't qualities I would give to a hero!

If Cassandra was like Thanos, a character so wrapped up in his ego that he can't even notice how evil he is, I would understand. But she doesn't have an ego. Anger, yes. But for the most part, her personality is based on having logic and reasoning. So turning her into a villain and having her unaware that she's a villain is an act of lunacy that I am incapable of understanding. I don't know who's idea this was, but whoever is to blame...you've got issues.

>Sighs<...This series isn't good, is it?

IN CONCLUSION

I like the animation and some of the characters...but that's not enough. Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure is a mess of a show that tries to do too much for a story that should have so little. Meaning that it's a D+ for me. I want to enjoy it and give it a higher grade, especially with how much I hear people praise this series. And if you do enjoy it, all the power to you. Your opinions are valid, even if I highly disagree with them. Because for me, this is a show that I won't get myself tangled up in again in the future.

[pettyprocrastination]

Panty & Bambi

Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Roller Derby!Reader

Summary: Helena Morales celebrates her 12th birthday at the roller rink, where she plays cupid for her kind father who’s attention has been captured by a confident skater that danced about the rink. 

Warnings: profanity, uhhh mention of alcohol?? Frankie being a fucking BOTTOM about buff thick women lmao. 

Word Count:2.9k

Perm Taglist: @honestlystop​

authors note:Wrote this because I’m sad about not being able to do derby this season and i’ve been watching lots of bouts to comfort myself in it lmao. Big inspiration to @qveenbvtch​ who wrote a fucking MAGICAL javi rollerskating fic called Ring My Bell!! It’s so fucking good read it here !!!!!! Big thank you to my boo @captainsamwlsn​ for reading this for me ILY Thais so fkin much <3

“For her next birthday could your daughter pick something that isn’t fucking murder on my knees?”

Frankie stared at his friend and god father to his now twelve year old daughter under the flashing fluorescent lights of the roller rink before taking a sip of the cheap beer in his hand. “Don’t whine Santi.” Frankie laughed.  “We both know you’d do anything for her.”

Which was true. 

Helena had only been a baby when the group went to Columbia to take down Lorea. They had always been a close-knit group of friends, but what happened on that trip, that shit-show of a mission, made them appreciate having each other even more. They visited Tom’s family when they were able to, the first few months after his death his ex-wife wouldn’t even let them on the front lawn. She took to screaming and cursing at them for his death, they didn’t tell her about the teenage boy that took her ex-husband’s life to avenge his brother. 

Tess did in fact get into Harvard. She sent Pope letters from time to time. She didn’t blame him or the others for her father’s death like her mother did. The boys couldn’t say the same for themselves. 

But the family they did have, the sweet chunky cheeked little infant girl Frankie was proud to call his daughter? Oh they all worshiped her. Little Helena had them all wrapped around her finger from the moment they set eyes on her. 

The men had been there for every tea party, fairy tale, and birthday. They watched her go from mashing cake into her mouth at one years old to laughing at a skate rink with her friends at twelve. 

Frankie had been there for everything and his boys were there to help him. 

He couldn’t say the same for Liana. 

“Twelve years brother.” Pope remarked. Frankie groaned and let his head fall forward. 

“You don’t have to tell me man. Where did it all go?” He looked out on the rink with a smile, watching his daughter skate with ease on the polished wood floors while Ben wobbled along next to her, looking more like a baby taking its first steps than a grown man. 

“It feels like just yesterday I was changing her diapers, now she’s in eighth grade.” Frankie sighed, released the vice like grip he had on the neck of his bottle. “Fuck man, I’m not ready for her to go to high school, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.”

“You’ll do what you’ve always done for her, ‘Fish.” Frankie looked up to see Will standing at his side, setting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be there for her. Which is more than I can say about half of the dead beat dads out there now.”

“Dad!” She called out, her pigtails swaying as she turned to him, hands held out with a big grin. “Come on!”

Frankie ignored the pop of his knees as he stood up with a groan. 

“I’ll pray for your back hermano!” Santi called out with a barking laugh as his friend slowly stepped onto the rink with shaking legs

Frankie couldn’t give his little girl the world no matter how much he wanted to, he was just one man. But damn if he wouldn’t skate with her at her birthday party. 

Helena took his hand in hers as they skated, which he knew was more for his safety than hers. But he still felt his heart clench at seeing just how small his daughter’s hand was compared to his.

“How are you so bad at this!” She giggled upon seeing his knees buckle for the third time in two minutes. While Helena had taken to roller skates with ease, the same could not be said for her father, who clutched onto her hand like a lifeline. 

“Mija, the last time I was on wheels like this was before I broke my ankle skateboarding.” A woman skated by them, the wheels on her skated lighting up a bright pink each time they made contact with the floor. You turned, skating backwards for a moment with a carefree smile before turning forward again. 

Frankie’s knees buckled when Helena’s hip bumped against his.

“God-” His daughter snorted. “Maybe if you stopped staring at that lady and focused more on skating you wouldn’t be wobbling like an old man on a walker!”

His head snapped to his daughter like a whip, for a moment uncaring how he nearly lost his balance. ���I am not-I wasn’t-did you just call me an old man?”

His daughter simply stared up at him with that smug little grin that he swore Santi taught her. 

“She’s pretty.” His daughter noted, he spared another glance up, feet sliding across the floor as he did. 

You skated around another couple, hips swaying to the song playing over the speaker and hands raised high over your head. You brought one foot in front of the other in a sashay along the rink, gliding over the floor with grace that Frankie couldn’t even try to get as he gripped his daughter’s hand for dear life while they skated along the inner rim of the rink. 

His daughter tugged at his hand, which had gotten arguably more sweaty when he realized that you would be passing them once more. “You should say hi.”

Frankie shook his head and offered his daughter a smile. “It’s your birthday ‘lena.” He reminded her. “You should be having fun with your friends instead of worrying about your old man’s dating life.”

Helena tilted her head in thought before smiling and letting go of her father’s hand. “Okay!”

“Wait-wait!” Frankie shot his hands out to balance himself, without the help of his daughter he felt even more off-kilter and out of his element. “Where are you going!?”

His daughter laughed before joining her friends that had skated ahead of them. “You told me to have fun with my friends! So I’m going to!” She looked behind him and smiled so wide he felt his heart drop. “Have fun dad! You got this!”

“Helena Maria Morales if you don’t-” Frankie’s threat was cut off when his legs wobbled against, one foot shooting out to steady him, except he was on fucking roller skates, which only caused his foot to slide out from beneath him and send him tumbling onto the hard floor beneath him. 

Had it not been for his skating savior that is. 

You shot forward, one hand gripping the collar of his shirt meanwhile the other grabbed the waistband of his trousers to steady him. On instinct his hands gripped your hips like you were a life preserver and he was a man lost at sea. 

“You alright there buddy?” Frankie simply stared at you, throat tight and mouth wide open as his bright wracked for a single thought, a single word to say to you. 

“Jesus Christ.” Santi groaned from the other side of the rink. He and the other boys sat watching in equal parts awe and dismay at their friend being caught like damsel and then absolutely flounder in front of you. “Say something you idiot!”

“Oh this is painful.” Ben snorted. “I don’t want to look away!”

“I’m uh, yeah I’m good.” Frankie realized as you pulled him upright how fucking strong you were, and it made his knees knock together for a whole different reason. His hands tensed and he realized he was still holding onto your hips. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine, really.” You held up a hand to silence him, his mouth snapped shut as if it were a trained command. “I know you aren’t some creep trying to cop a feel, I’ve been watching you skate for a while now.”

Frankie looked down at the floor. “Yeah well, the last time I was on wheels was when I was sixteen and tried to impress a girl at the mall by grinding on a rail with my skateboard.”

You slowly took his hand in yours and began to skate forward, slow smooth steps that he did his best to mimic. He was so focused on not falling he hadn’t realized that the pair of you were skating like a couple. “Did it work?”

“Fuck no!” He laughed. “I broke my ankle, lost a tooth, then she and her friends all laughed at me.”

You smiled at his story, noting the way the multi-colored lights bounced off his profile. “Well, I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t break an ankle or lose any teeth tonight, alright Bambi?”

Frankie’s feet wobbled again and tightened his grip on your hands, marveled for a moment at how soft they felt against his. “Bambi?”

“Yeah.” You offered him a slight shrug, he still wasn’t sure how you could skate around others with such ease while also maintaining a conversation, but was thankful for it either way. “You both have brown hair, both have shit balance-”

“Gee thanks.”

You giggled and flicked the tip of his cap. “Let me finish.” You scolded. “You both have shit balance, and you're both pretty fuckin’ cute.”

Frankie felt his heart race and his lips curl into a shy smile. He watched the colors that danced over your form like a kaleidoscope. “Well my actual name is Frankie-” The tip of his skate dipped forward, catching on the floor and sending him careening right into your arms. You kept your feet together at an angle to keep from falling, hands grabbing onto him as he barreled forward, arms thrown around you and nose pressed against yours. “-but I guess Bambi is pretty fitting too.”

“Well Bambi-” Frankie felt a tingle down his spine every time you called him that. A nickname so sweet and innocent had no business making him feel so hot under the collar. “How about we take a break from trying to keep you from falling flat on your ass and go sit down for a bit? If your daughter doesn’t mind that is.”

He looked over your shoulder, where Helena stood with two of her friends, smiling wide and flashing her dad two thumbs up. 

“I don’t think she'll mind.”

```

“A pilot?” You whistled, leaning back in his chair. “Damn, you’ve got me beat. I’m just a high school English teacher!”

Frankie shook his head, toe tapping on the linoleum floor of the little snack corner of the rink that pair of you were sitting at. “Now I wouldn’t say all that. I mean, spending your entire day dealing with teenagers who definitely don’t want to be there? You must have the patience of a saint.”

You bumped your knee against his. “We’ll now you’re just trying to flatter me.”

Frankie held one hand up and the other over his heart, as if he were taking an oath. “All truth here, coming from a former AP English kid.” You gasped and held one hand over your chest and pretended to swoon. 

“An honor student of my subject? Be still my beating heart!” Frankie snorted into his drink, which caused you to in turn laugh loud enough for the people in front of them to turn and glare. 

He had always hated dating. It felt so forced, so uncomfortable. The icebreakers were only met with bland replies of women who clearly weren’t interested in him, and only became less interested when they learned he was a father. That or they would praise him for being so “brave” to raise his daughter on his own. What, as if he was supposed to walk out on her just like her mother did? It turned him off to the whole situation. 

But this? Sitting in the tiny snack corner at a roller rink, sipping overpriced sodas and laughing loud enough to annoy people while staring at the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen? Oh it was better than any date at a four star restaurant he’s been on. 

“Trust me.” He told you. “You would’ve hated me as a student.”

“I could never!”

“Oh yes you could!” He laughed. “I fell asleep in class all the time, never answered questions and uh honestly?” He pulled his hat low over his face with a shy smile. “If I had you as a teacher? I’d never get anything done.”

His eyes flicked to the sleeve of your shirt, seeing your biceps strain against it as you leaned over for your drink. The shorts you wore hugged the thick muscle of your legs and he felt his throat tighten up at the thought. 

You smiled and pushed his cap up so you could see his brown doe eyes. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment, Bambi.”

 Santi watched the pair of you, nearly nose to nose when you leaned in close to toy with his hat. He smiled and bumped Will’s shoulder. “Look at ‘em go. ‘Fish still has it.”

“That’s our boy.”

They had all gotten the call when Liana left, she had simply packed her bags in the middle of the night and vanished. Leaving Francisco and their six month old baby alone. They knew how much it hurt him to see her leave, how much he blamed himself and wracked his brain for how to fix it, how many times he called her and pleaded for her to come home. If not for him, for their daughter. Their little baby girl who wouldn’t stop crying because she was hungry and mommy was gone. 

But to see him now, blushing like a school boy while talking with a woman who his daughter practically pushed him into, they all felt a swell of pride. 

If any of them deserved a happy ending, it was Catfish. 

“If he doesn’t ask her out-” Ben sighed. “I’ll kill him. Just fucking murder him.”

Sadly, just as Frankie was about to ask that dreaded question, if he could get your number or hell, if you’d like to get a drink sometime, a woman with bright pink hair poked her head over your table. 

“Hey panty!” She called out and Frankie damn near got whiplash at that nickname. “Can you give me a ride home? My car is busted and my boyfriend can’t pick me up.”

Your shoulders deflated at her response and Frankie couldn’t help but feel a little prideful that you felt dejected to leave his side. “Yeah no problem Jammie.”

“Thanks!” The girl chirped. “I’ll meet you outside!”

When she left, Frankie turned to you with a slow smile, his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Panty?”

“Ughh I know!” You groaned into your hands. “It’s not some weird nickname or anything it’s just my derby name I swear!”

Frank leaned back, eyes wide in admiration. “You play roller derby?”

You grinned, shoulders back and confidence oozing off of you at the mention of your sport. You tucked your hands behind your head and Frankie took that moment to marvel at the muscle that strained against your shirt. “Damn right I do. Not to brag but I’ve been the MVP for the last three seasons.”

It was absolutely a brag and he loved it. 

“You know-” Your eyes flicked to his, shy and skittish. “-we have a bout, a game, this Saturday if you want to come. It’ll be here, at eight. You don’t have to-”

“I’ll be there.” He promised. The thought of you in those spandex shorts on skates, being positively brutal to other women on the track with that confident grin? Christ, he wouldn’t miss it for the world. “I’ve never watched roller derby before but, it’s recently piqued my interest.”

You smiled, raising your foot to knock it against his. “Well I hope it keeps you interested Frankie, because you’ve piqued mine too.”

Frankie felt a swell of pride in his chest at your shy smile and sweet words. He felt like a kid back in high school, trying his best to woo the girl in his biology class with passing notes in hopes of getting a date. 

Only this time he had more experience and a lot less acne. 

“Panty!” The woman shouted. “Lets gooo! I work the morning shift tomorrow!”

Your face fell. “Looks like that’s my que to head out. I’ll see you Friday though?”

“Fuck yes.” Frankie breathed out, before regaining his composure. “I mean uh yeah, yeah I’ll uh, see if I can make it.” You laughed and stood up from the table, turning on your heel at the final moment to press a quick kiss to his cheek. 

“I’ll see you then, Bambi.” You purred, before walking out of the door and past His daughter and three grown ass men, who stood in a circle nearby like a bunch of gossiping old women.

Frankie didn’t even have a moment to realize you kissed him before his daughter bounded over to him asking eighty questions within two seconds.

“What's her name? Is she cool? She seems cool! Are you guys dating now? Did you ask her out? Did you get her number?”

He brought this daughter in for a hug, bringing his hand down on the crown of her head in a playful nuzzle. 

“Alright speedy gonzales.” She laughed into his side and tried to wriggle out of his bear hug. “No more matchmaking, you hear me?”

“But it worked! Didn’t it?” His stern facade melted away at the excited grin on Helena’s face.He sighed, letting his chin fall onto the top of her head. 

“We’ll just have to wait and see mija.”

His daughter whooped in victory, throwing her hands high in the air in celebration. 

“That means it worked!”

[moonchildsaurora]

The Hercules of a Weapons Master/Mechanic

»»—— Crew Member #8 of Space Pirates ATEEZ ——««

all aboard The Perihelion, welcome to the co-pilot’s log system! here you’ll be able to access the crew’s profiles should you wish to read about their journeys: (no nsfw content)

[CAPTAIN] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

“so you want me…to break them? As in literally or figuratively?”  

is the baby of the crew but actually the eldest in his own family

epitome of ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’. With a well-grounded and balanced mindset along with a great sense of independence and self-discipline

is a native Draerair born and raised on Corebos, a relatively peaceful planet where several clans co-exist across the different regions specialising in agricultural and metal work

[database file: Draerairs are shape-shifters by ancestral blood, however not every individual are born with the ability to shift into their bestial forms (though they retain some of their inhumane strength and traits). Each clan’s lineage has a specific beast they’re associated with. Individuals with the ability to shift can do so at will, be it partially or fully]

Jongho and his family are descendants of the Silverclaw clan, their associated beast is that of a bear. He’s the only one currently in his family that was born with the shifters ability, his grandmother was the previous individual with the ability

in his human form his hair is dark like the coals in his father’s workshop, honey tanned skin from hours of work under the sun and a gentle shade of hazel for eyes        

when partially shifted he gains a good 2 and half feet in height as bones and muscle mass expands, nails are elongated into claws, canines sharpened and eyes become more of an amber gold colour. Faint markings appear around his eyes as well as down his arms. Fur of black-brown shade emerge the closer he shifts into his beastial form

his strength is renowned throughout his clan, at the tender age of 5 he shocked the souls out of his parents after they found that he’s managed to bend the metal bars of his youngling playpen simply to get out so he could go on a mini adventure to find an afternoon snack

“oh sweet Zeus, we’ve lost the baby!”

they found out very quickly that he particularly liked snacking on fruits especially apples and sometimes would have to hide extras from him, otherwise they’d have none left

Jongho had always looked up to his father and his speciality with weapons forging. During his youngling years he’d be allowed to sit at a safe distance and observe, wide eyes with wonder when he looked at his father welding ambthanite metal together or carving a blade from crystalline emeyl

it was no surprise that Jongho followed in his footsteps and begun his apprenticeship by his 12th summer, his immense strength was a sure advantage when it came to being efficient and how easily some techniques were mastered 

“who needs a machine when you can just bend it with your bare hands?”

his younger siblings adored watching their older brother (it felt like déjà vu) build anything as small as a hunter’s dagger to fixing up parts of visiting ships. It’s also an extra treat for them whenever Jongho would crush fruity snacks single-handedly, because he loves hearing their joyous laughter and applause

The Perihelion had actually made a supply stop within the region that Jongho resided in to trade for food and energy cells. Under the recommendation from some of the market farmers, the crew were led to the Chois’ smithing workshop to fix up minor damages on the ship’s hull and to assess if any defence upgrades were available to be installed on such short notice  

“…I can’t tell if that’s Hercules or a beast hammering away in there”

the expressions on half the crew’s faces were priceless once they met Jongho, right after they saw him heave a 7 tonne slab of frerhil iron [database file: a common metal for heavy duty spears used by barbarians & warmasters] on to the bench without batting an eyelid

“you sure are one strong baby!”

“MINGI SHUT YO-“

“oh don’t worry, I get that. A lot”

and if it wasn’t for the overly toothy smile that Jongho sent their way that made the crew slightly nervous, it would’ve been the way his muscles flexed tauntingly as he gripped Mingi’s hand in a handshake during introductions Seonghwa nearly sweated out his worries just wearily watching that exchange

“I think what our lovely tech engineer meant was that you have a bab-ahh youthful face, yeah, youthful appearance! Not that you’re a baby at age”

“of course, I just passed my 15th summer not too long ago actually. So what can I do for you lot today?”

Hongjoong didn’t even try to hide how impressed he already was, he hadn’t come across too many shifters before and knew very little of their nature and abilities so this was great insight for him. He couldn’t care less with Wooyoung snickering in the background when his chest puffed out proudly after Jongho complimented his ship

Jongho was genuinely amazed that The Perihelion had managed to hold out until now (after hearing brief stories as to how the damages were acquired), without even having a ship’s mechanic for regular maintenance. His awe elevated when Hongjoong told him that he, a self-taught, was the one who worked and spruced the ship up from its near-scrap stage

Jongho’s father made similar comments when he came round to check up on his son and the workshop, even helping a bit with fitting in newer protective panels around the engines and windows. It wasn’t anything fancy, but Jongho did promise should the crew make another stop by in the future he’d have some better upgrades for them

it wouldn’t be till nearly 4 years later where their paths would cross once again in the city of Acreon. Jongho having made the decision to leave his home planet to start living life a little more, though he’d still pick up smithing-mechanic work along the way of his travels. Probably not the most ideal way to reunite with the crew, especially amidst a bar brawl of all things    

having not fought in his entire life (unless you count sand wrestling during his youngling days), Jongho was running entirely on pure adrenaline when he recognised Hongjoong and swiftly grabbed him out of the way – seconds before a stool came smashing down

“what th-OH hey! It’s you!”

the crew witnessed Jongho partially shift that time, almost bowling the entire crowd over with his solid mass to get Wooyoung and San out of the fray. Throwing them over his shoulders and bolting with the rest out the back door of the bar (Wooyoung’s shrieking could be heard down the street)

“thank you for that, really, we owe you one”

“do your evenings out usually end up like this? Never would’ve pinned you lot as the type to throw punches at a bar”

“listen here, that slimy loathsome spawn of a troll deserved it for inappropriate treatment of the dancer”

well at least Jongho couldn’t fault them for having good morals and standing up for it, though he wouldn’t be able to live it down come the following day when news spread throughout the city of ‘a beast from the nether realms’ being involved in the incident at The Illusion he dreaded getting an earful from his parents should his family ever catch wind of the news

Hongjoong invited him to tag along with the crew for the rest of their time in Acreon (highkey hoping this time Jongho would stick around more permanently), which allowed him time to evaluate the state of The Perihelion since it’s been a long while

Jongho officially became a member of the crew after he convinced Hongjoong to head over to Vostrilles, a place he knew had supplies of the latest ship weaponry and mechanical resources, and stuck by long enough to help with the upgrades that the crew pretty much adopted him into their wholesome chaotic family

he grew to thoroughly enjoy their company and now have the luxury of being doted on by his older sibling figures (he’d still deck anyone who dares call him a baby with the exception of mumma Seonghwa)

“watch your language! There are children on board”

the crew realised just how much they needed a proper weapon smith/mechanic on board after a few close-calls with a rival crews – Jongho’s newly installed point-defence canons had given the ship an advantage on its durability and defensive structure that it could withstand enemy attacks enough to make an escape

no one would openly admit that they cannot stay angry at Jongho for longer than 2 minutes, even when he was being in an argumentative mood

not to mention that everyone is extremely protective of their baby bro  

ends up being closest to Mingi, Wooyoung and Yeosang, the latter having a calming presence when he needs some downtime and he appreciates the other chaotic duo when they join in singing random duets with him (a habit he does whenever he’s in his workshop)

recently Jongho found some quality metal paint, he pitched the idea of giving The Perihelion a proper makeover – Hongjoong and others could customise the colour palette they’d like and finally give the ship the glo-up she deserves (no one noticed Yeosang’s little character doodles he so sneakily painted at random spots/corners of the ship hehet)              

(moodboard made with love, by @s1ardusk​ ♡)

[plethoraurora]

“lie to me” and morality in btvs

today on help! i wrote an essay in the discord chat. since i happen to do that a lot i figured i’d dump them onto my blog for posterity, and so i don’t have to dig through archives/search to find them if i wanna express those points again.

so without further ado, please have a very stream-of-consciousness response to a conversation the buffyverse discord had about “lie to me” and its relevance to the series, specifically in terms of overarching themes and morality. this is entirely unedited and solely the result of my absolutely unhinged brain being allowed to run free:

prelude

re: the convo we were having about "lie to me": not to mention, the implications of buffy's conversation with giles in regard to the idea of moral ambiguity. which really hasn't been a conversation piece at all up to this point: it has been exactly that -- we know the enemies, we know the good guys, and that line is cleanly drawn. this totally foreshadows SO many things that will unfold through the rest of the series

pt. 1

obviously, angel losing his soul and reverting to angelus which is nearing in, at that point -- the ambiguity of one's personhood, the idea of the soul as the physical guiding force for morality, and the lack of it. what separates angel from angelus -- what separates the actions he committed as angelus from his ensouled state? what makes up his personhood?

pt. 2

then there's faith, who comes up next, chronologically -- she's buffy's foil in so many ways i don't even know where to begin -- but especially in her views of morality and what's "right" -- you can see that in her understanding of buffy's morality (ex. "because it's wrong"), and her actions throughout season 3 -- from her recklessness from the time she's introduced through her betrayal and incarceration/redemption, she walks a very thin, undefined line, between the inherent "good" of the nature of being a slayer, and "bad" of her own nature/nurture, and personal view of herself.

through her stint as buffy, we see that she feels the need to view herself as "bad", to demonize her actions, in direct contrast to buffy's "goodness" -- she sees them as complete opposites, polar extremes of a spectrum of morality -- when they're both closer to the middle. and that's something that will be explored when faith returns to sunnydale in s7, changed immensely by her self-imposed penance in prison, as well as buffy's own actions after her resurrection -- completely changed in her own demeanor through the effects of her feeling a disconnect from humanity and pursuing a self-harming relationship with spike -- who's been seen as "bad" this entire time.

the dynamic between faith and buffy is also explored in the context of the conflict regarding who the potentials want to lead them, and choosing faith -- while faith's changed her tune to do more good, buffy's gone from more the more optimistic of the two, to almost on par with faith's pessimism -- she sees the harsh reality of the past seven years clearly, and while her morals haven't changed -- how she sees them has -- buffy's always seen herself as inherent good, and faith as bad -- just as faith sees them -- when they meet again in s7, they both recognize they're neither.

pt. 3

and then we have willow -- who i think is the clearest example of this dichotomy -- just look at the change in her demeanor from season 1 to season 7. like buffy, she starts out optimistic to a fault -- they'll always win. and when they don't -- it affects her. willow isn't on the same moral high ground that early season buffy puts herself on -- but she is highly logical. she's book smart, studious, applies herself, and is generally just insanely intelligent. but as she starts to get into magic -- that logistics-focused approach starts to crumble -- because magic isn't logical, is it? she can easily apply logics to the functions of magical objects and ingredients, but the how and why is much more spiritual, connected to emotions -- which is exactly what we get when she pursues higher levels of magic upon meeting tara.

her morals aren't as clearly defined on the spectrum as buffy or faith's, or as questioned as angel or spike's, and her change is much more gradual than incited by one event (e.g. buffy's death/resurrection, angel losing his soul, spike getting his soul, etc.). i find her more similar to faith in this way -- though like faith and buffy, they're less traveling the same path than meeting each other in the middle.

it would be easy to argue tara's death as the inciting event in what seems like a change in willow's morality -- but i think of it as inherently connected to her disposition and how she sees the world, which is a gradual change. i think, then, that losing tara is more of an expression of this change -- a display of massive proportions of just how much she's changed since the first season. and we love willow. she's portrayed as an insanely sympathetic character -- she's shy, awkward, and loved by all the other characters she's an invaluable member of the team, both with her book smarts and later, her magic.

i actually think willow's morals are the most stagnant out of nearly every character -- perhaps besides giles. i think she's very similar to giles in that regard -- we see a similar arc with them, and at the same time. they have a strong understanding that what's moral isn't always right, and what's right isn't always moral. strong examples being when giles kills ben, and when he comes back, prepared to stop willow even if it costs either or both of their lives.

what changes is the way she expresses them -- again, inherently connected to her understanding of the world, going from purely logic based to more focused on feelings and connection to the world/other people. we see this expressed both in her demeanor, the focus on her magic, and most importantly, her appearance -- in seasons 4 and 5, she seems to take on a lot of tara's style choices, all invoking very hippie-ish vibes: long skirts, earthy tones and patterns -- which i think shows a lot about how tara influences her both personally (in terms of figuring out her sexuality) and magically; as she takes on more of a quote unquote stereotypical witch persona, pretty reminiscent of lots of early 2000s weird/magical girl tropes.

sidebar

i think a lot about the weird girl trope in regards to her, too. especially in the way that other similarly themed characters of the era were treated, in the way of sexual autonomy and femininity, and desirability. she definitely falls into the basics of the trope -- unsexualized costume, with a more seemingly "modest" demeanor and appearance. most importantly, some way of defying the norm. which willow does ten-fold: she doesn't fall to social heirarchy/popularity like buffy and cordelia do, initially; she's actually very low on the social pedestal. she doesn't follow fashion trends, she wears what she wants, doesnt fall to peer pressure to do otherwise. and most importantly, her sexuality, which could be considered the ultimate derivation from the norm in terms of how her character archetype was presented as well as the climate of the time.

two things i find really interesting in terms of her diverting the trope, however, is 1) the fact that unlike most girls that fall under the "weird girl" designation, she doesn't profess to not care what people think -- and we see directly the opposite, getting into her head in "helpless". and 2) she isn't seen as undesirable by romantic/sexual interests -- infact, she's got two pretty strong love interests. normally the women under this trope aren't given love interests, or if they are, they're equally matched to them in terms of demeanor. this couldn't be more false for willow's love interests.

i think the order oz and tara are portrayed in regards to willow's arc is also really important there -- oz, when they first get together, is seemingly a much stronger mentally and emotionally person than her; more bold and concretely himself -- but this is all a facade, as he isn't nearly sure of his identity as he navigates what being a werewolf is.

likewise, when willow and tara first enter their relationship, tara seems to be the less headstrong and in control of the two -- completely reversed in late s5/early s6 when willow isn't in control of her magic.

anyways. just an interesting sidebar.

pt. 3 cont

the fundamental function of willow's brain is logic: but logic can't justify tara's death. she can't find warren's motivation; can't process it as an accident. she doesn't believe that getting revenge is the moral thing to do. but she does believe it's right -- to find balance, a life for a life -- the way she'd learned to balance equivalent exchanges in her magic.

[saiilorstars]

The Beginning of Everything

Ch. 27:  The Vortex Butterfly

// Story Masterlist //

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 10th Doctor x Female OC

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Chapter summary: The final battle against the Daleks is coming to an end and with it comes the Vortex Butterfly. People are lost and those remaining are still fractured. When it's all over, Renata and the Doctor must decide what to do with themselves.

As soon as the new Doctor had figured out what the Daleks planned to do, he set to work with the tools he had in the TARDIS. He'd been working fairly fast considering the enormous pressure there was to get things right and working.

"Doctor - or whatever you name is - what are you doing!?" Gabby was so tired of watching the man circle the console without uttering a word to her or Donna. For all they knew, he could be making a toaster.

"This is our only hope!" the Doctor promised her and made a nod at his device that was coming together. "A Z-Neutrino biological inversion catalyser."

"Yeah, Earth-girls remember?" Donna nearly tapped the side of his head to make a point.

"Davros said he built those Daleks out of himself. His genetic code runs through the entire race. If I can use this to lock the Crucible's transmission onto Davros himself…"

"It destroys the Daleks?"

"Biggest backfire in history," the Doctor grinned mischievously.

"That's great," Gabby was truly grinning from ear to ear, but she raised her glowing purple hands to bring up another matter they hadn't truly solved yet. "Now what do I do about this!?"

The Doctor wearily eyed her hands. "Keep 'em...away…"

Gabby wasn't remotely amused. "Am I going to die like Renata? Is that what this is? You said I'm the Cosmic Butterfly and that Renata is the Vortex Butterfly, but what does that mean really? What can I do with this? Will it kill me?"

"I don't - I don't know the implications it'll have on your biology," the Doctor admitted. "But right now it might be a really good weapon against the Daleks." Gabby wasn't really sure how to feel about being a 'weapon' against alien threats. "And as for Renata? The energy inside her is far too strong, it could be killing her as we speak."

Gabby gulped and glanced at Donna. What could either of them do from where they were? Gabby didn't know the answer but she knew that she had to do something to save her. Ever since they met, Renata had done nothing but try to keep Gabby safe. Even when things were terrible, Renata always strove to keep Gabby out of harm's way. Gabby couldn't - and wouldn't - let that happen. She had the power in her fingertips to stop it, to at least help. She didn't care if it would contaminate her too or if it would kill her. The Doctor may be right in that she was a weapon they could use against the Daleks.

"What do I need to do?"

The Doctor eyed her for a second, deciding whether or not she was being honest and if she could actually do it. She gave a nod as if she'd read his mind.

"You draw your power - so they say - from your emotions, from what you feel. Take all of that and focus it on what you want to do."

Gabby nodded fast, her eyes wandering around the room. Right now all she could think of was Renata and the Doctor. They were both in such terrible danger and even then Renata was getting the worst of it. Her energy was swallowing her whole and just the thought of Renata dying terrified Gabby - she felt her world would crumble.

Flames began to rise from her fingers and when she noticed it, she knew exactly what to do.

~ 0 ~

Renata had gained a better sense of balance again, but it didn't stop the deep fatigueness she felt. Her energy - the vortex, apparently - had stopped randomly bursting from her but every now and then it would still burst. Even if they weren't strong explosions, she could still feel it bubbling inside her.

She touched the prison wall around her and watched its ripples mix with her golden energy. "Maybe...this isn't all bad," she whispered so that the Doctor could hear. "What if I use this - whatever it is - to our advantage?"

"Don't do anything, I'm begging you," the Doctor was so tired of asking her the same thing. He was afraid that each time the energy burst from her, it would be the last one she would be able to endure. "Just...just sit." Renata shook her head but before she could verbally refuse, they heard a familiar voice coming through a comms in the room.

"This is Martha Jones representing the Unified Intelligence Taskforce on behalf of the Human Race. Can you hear me?"

Renata stumbled forwards, her face hitting the wall not so kindly. "Martha! Is that really Martha!?"

Martha Jones finally came to appear in a screen for them. "This message is for the Dalek Crucible. Repeat: can you hear me?"

"Martha?" the Doctor could smile enough to see she was alright and unharmed, so far.

"It begins as Dalek Caan foretold," Davros announced, but neither the Doctor nor Renata paid him attention.

"The Children of Time will gather... and one of them will die!"

"Would you stop saying that! Put me through!" ordered the Doctor.

The communication became a two-way and Martha seemed relieved to see them again, although she immediately got concerned over Renata's frail appearance. She paid very bit of her attention to Rose, considering her priorities. "Ren? What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, just get to the point," Renata made a gesture as best as possible.

"State your intent," Davros commanded Martha and Martha was happy to do so.

Martha raised her hand to show she held a strange key. "I've got the Osterhagen Key. Leave this planet and its people alone, or I'll use it."

"Osterhagen what? What's an Osterhagen Key?" the Doctor inquired, a bit offended that he had no idea what the thing was when UNIT created it. They were supposed to inform him every now and then.

"There's a chain of twenty-five nuclear warheads placed in strategic points beneath the Earth's crust. If I use the key, they detonate and the Earth gets ripped apart."

The noise that came out of Renata was piercing. She was appalled at such a creation. "What do you mean!? Martha Jones! Are you insane?!"

Martha was in a visible struggle with her duty and her morals, but she didn't stop until she got everything out that she needed to say. "The Osterhagen Key is to be used if the suffering of the Human Race is so great, so without hope... that this becomes the final option."

"That's never an option!" yelled the Doctor.

"Don't argue with me, Doctor," Martha snapped, further surprising him. "Cos there's more than that. Now, I reckon the Daleks need these twenty-seven planets for something, but what if it becomes twenty-six? What happens then? Daleks? Would you risk it?"

Rose had to admit where she saw a good job, because not just anyone could threaten the Daleks with such good content. "She's good." Of course neither the Doctor nor Renata would agree with her.

"Who's that?" Martha finally gave Rose the decent attention to be interested in her.

"My name's Rose. Rose Tyler."

Martha froze but her eyes immediately found Renata's. The Time Lady gave a confirming nod, but she made it clear that she was just fine with it.

Suddenly, the screen divided itself into two squares. Jack's face flashes next to Martha's and he was holding a peculiar necklace in hand. Sarah Jane, Jackie Tyler, and Mickey Smith were right behind him.

"Captain Jack Harkness calling all Dalek boys and girls!" Jack exclaimed rather loudly with a grin that promised greatness. "Are you receiving me? Don't send in your goons or I'll set this thing off."

Now it was Rose's turn to nearly fall over. "He's still alive!?" she squinted her eyes though when she saw Jackie behind him. "Oh, my God, that's- that's my mum!"

"And Mickey," the Doctor added. "Captain, what are you doing?"

"I've got a Warp Star wired into the mainframe. I break the shell... the entire Crucible goes up."

The Doctor looked between Martha and Jack - and those behind Jack - as if they'd all gone mad, and perhaps they had. "You can't! Where did you get a Warp Star?!"

"Wrong question," Renata shook her. "I can't believe they have the courage to do that - wrong courage, but...courage nonetheless." Although it honestly startled her that these humans had the boldness to do what not everyone could.

"It's mine, Doctor," Sarah Jane spoke up. "We had no choice, we saw what happened to the prisoners."

"Impossible. That face... after all these years…" Davros seemed truly surprised to see Sarah Jane on the screen.

Sarah Jane couldn't say the same. Her eyes narrowed on the man - creature - and a cold glare took her over. "That's been quite a while. Sarah Jane Smith. Remember?"

"Oh, this is meant to be. The Circle of Time is closing!" Davros exclaimed. "You were there on Skaro at the very beginning of my creation."

"And I've learned how to fight since then. You let the Doctor go or this Warp Star - it gets opened!"

"I'll do it," Jack raised the Warp Star a bit more and tweaked it to prepare it. "Don't imagine I wouldn't."

"Now, that's what I call a ransom," Rose chuckled, feeling just a bit more on the optimistic side. The Daleks wouldn't let their precious plan fall to bits if they could help it.

"And the prophesy unfolds," Davros said, pulling Rose out of her thoughts to notice the Doctor's downcasted gaze.

"The Doctor's soul is revealed! See him! See the heart of him!" Dalek Caan cackled deliriously, taunting the silent Doctor.

"Oh shut it you tin can!" Renata unexpectedly snapped. She knew exactly what they were trying to do to the Doctor and even if she was trapped inside a prison cell, she wouldn't allow it.

"The man who abhors violence, never carrying a gun. But this is the truth, Doctor," Davros wheeled himself closer to the Doctor who refused to look up from the ground. "You take ordinary people and you fashion them into weapons. Behold your Children of Time transformed into murderers. I made the Daleks, Doctor. You made this."

"What the - no!" Renata shouted again, more furious than before. "No one makes people into anything! You change them, yes, but their core remains the same."

The Doctor could appreciate her attempt to make him look better but he knew what he was, he always knew. Wherever he went, destruction followed. Even Renata herself had been caught in his trail. He gave her the worst ultimatum back on that horrible night before his wedding, and made her miserable for the rest of her lives. And after her...he couldn't even count the lives he'd destroyed because he turned them into people who didn't care for their own lives. They would use themselves as bait, go farther than they ever would because they met him.

It was all true.

And even if Renata tried to sweeten the darkness, he couldn't believe it. She shouldn't have to waste her breath - which was already numbered - on him. "Renata-"

"No!" she snapped at him without a single second of hesitation. "You are many things, Doctor, but I'm not letting these murderers bring you down with them! As if!" The golden Vortex began to dance around her body again, growing stronger the angrier she rambled on. "These humans-" she made a quick gesture to the screen where she had a good captive audience, "-are trying to save their world by any means necessary, even if it means destroying it! And yes, they are completely wrong!" She specifically looked up at the screens, making sure that each and every one of them looked her in her hard eyes. It was as if their mother was giving them a lecture, and it was a strange feeling for those who hadn't even met her. "But they made their choices! Not the Doctor!"

"Ren, calm down," Martha could see the light around her friend's body starting again.

"NO!" Renata frantically said. "And stop telling me to calm down! I'm not calming down! I've had it!"

"You make nice speeches, Time Lady-" Davros began but she wasn't quite finished yet.

"-my name-" she pounded a fist against her prison wall, "-is Renata! Learn it because as soon as I get out of here, I'm going to end you!"

"Renée, enough!" the Doctor turned to her. His anger had finally broken through his seal of silence but even though a part was directed at her, it wasn't for the same reason. He wouldn't let her further destroy her morals for him. Not her.

"There is no point in denying the truth," Davros insisted. "Already, I have seen them sacrifice today for their beloved Doctor. The Earth woman who fell opening the subwave network."

"Who was that?" the Doctor asked, momentarily curious of who else he could've destroyed that he wasn't remembering. That's how many...he couldn't even remember all of them!

"Harriet Jones," Rose answered quietly, closing her eyes when she remembered the terrible way Harriet had died after opening the Subway network for them. "She gave her life to get you here."

"How many more? Just think," Davros called to the Doctor again, nearing his prison hold. "How many have died in your name?"

"Doctor, don't," Renata knew that he was going to start thinking about the people he'd lost along the way. He just would. He was too guilty to ever forget them like that.

And as he realized before, the Doctor lost count along the way. He remembered many faces, each dying to save him and whoever else happened to be around. He always tried making the tough calls but someone always wanted to be brave - to prove themselves to him that they were just as brave as he was - and it always resulted in death. It followed him because that's who he was, that's who he was at his core. He could never stay still and people around him paid the price for it.

He barely held himself together once the weight of it truly fell over his shoulders, but the Daleks had won: they'd broken him. They made him face his reality and made him look at himself.

And Davros knew it too. "The Doctor... the man who keeps running, never looking back, because he dare not, out of shame. This is my final victory, Doctor. I have shown you... yourself."

"STOP!" Renata screamed and released the brightest energy she had yet to reveal. Her fists pounded endlessly against the prison walls, one after the other and stronger than the previous.

"Renata!" the Doctor swore he could see cuts against her fists from the constant hits against the wall, but she just wouldn't stop. "Renata!"

She cried and banged the walls with everything she had. The Vortex wouldn't fade this time either - it was actually cutting through the walls. The Daleks had prepared for the Doctor alright, but not the Vortex Butterfly.

"It's the Crucible... or the Earth!" Martha called when she felt it was the right time to really tighten the Daleks.

But the Daleks had other plans. They teleported Martha and Jack, along with everyone else who had tagged along. They all dropped into the Vault without their threatening weapons.

"Don't move!" the Doctor was quick to shout at them. "All of you, stay still!"

"But Renata!" Martha had gotten up from the floor fairly fast and ran towards her friend who was still crying against her cell.

"No, Martha!" the Doctor helplessly banged against his own prison hold to stop the woman.

Renata's cell cracked with the Vortex seeping through until it finally shattered. The force of it blew Martha back, throwing her body onto the floor. Renata's own body fell forwards after the blast. Jack only went to Martha because she was closest, but it didn't keep the Doctor from yelling for Renata to wake up. He crashed his body against his prison, much like Renata had, until his head got woozy from so many hits.

"Doctor, you have to stop that!" Rose called to him when he looked ready to pass out.

"You will all surrender," a Dalek warned the group as it and a few other Daleks came towards them.

Jack looked back at Sarah Jane, Mickey and Jackie, nodding for them to stay down. There was no winning now. Renata, however, slowly blinked awake. She scanned the area in her spot, without moving, and decided to wait for the right moment.

"The final prophecy is in place. The Doctor and his children all gathered as witnesses. Supreme Dalek... the time has come!" Davros' voice practically shook with excitement. "Now...Detonate the Reality Bomb!"

The knobs of the Reality Bomb started working again, giving the twenty seven planets their strong glow.

"Davros, you can't!" the Doctor crashed his body one more time against his prison hold. "Just listen to me! Just STOP!"

"Nothing can stop the detonation! Nothing! And no-one!"

Renata had barely flexed her left hand when she and the others began to hear a familiar, but completely impossible, wheezing noise. She'd been feeling so tired but now there was a small spot, somewhere inside, that felt a bit different. It was small but it sparked something...

The TARDIS appeared, looking as if nothing ever happened to it. It was the only thing that stopped the Doctor from repeatedly hurting himself against his prison. "But that's…"

"Impossible," Davros barely contained his shout.

The TARDIS settled into a nice spot and opened its doors, letting out a blinding light that could rival Renata's. The new Doctor bolted from the TARDIS with his device ready to go.

"What - don't!" the original Doctor cried despite not knowing - at that moment - how there was another copy of him.

Davros got over his shock and acted fast. With one pointed finger, he put a stop to the new Doctor's plan with a jet of electricity. He collapsed on the floor, not seriously injured but there would still be bruises.

"Activate holding cell," Davros instructed and a brand new prison hold appeared around the new man.

"Doctor!" Donna rushed out next and immediately saw the lost device on the floor. She snatched it before anything else could. "I've got it! But I don't know what to do!"

Donna became the next victim. The same electric jet of energy hit her and blew her against the TARDIS.

"Destroy the weapon!"

The Doctor called for Donna but there was no response from the woman, wherever it was she landed.

"Wait, how come there's two of you now?" Rose couldn't stop blinking. It was as if she was trying to see if blinking fast would erase the second DOctor.

"Human biological metacrisis. Never mind that, now we've got no way of stopping the Reality Bomb."

"Wouldn't say that." Gabby appeared out of the TARDIS with a strong purple glow around her and a pair of two swirling, purple butterfly wings behind her. She didn't take a second to think about the consequences, she just acted. She thrust her left hand forwards and shot directly at Davros. A streak of purple butterflies swarmed their way towards the man.

"Attack!" he cried before the butterflies could read him.

"NO!" the Doctor went into another state of panic. The Reality Bomb was back on and now they also had to watch Gabby die all over again?

Gabby brought her wings over her body as a shield - how that happened, she wouldn't be able to explain - but the same wings, only in purple, flapped in front of her. In her mind, there was only one thing: save her friends.

Renata was finally back and she had an icy cold glare on her face, despite the warmth she felt from the Vortex emanating around her. "Not her!" her voice would make anyone wince, and it did. "You-" her wings flapped to create a force of wind laced with golden energy, "-stay-" flap!, "-away-" another flap, "-from her!" Golden swirls fired from her wings and hit the incoming Daleks.

"Detonation in twenty rels! Nineteen…" the Supreme Dalek's voice began to echo through all the rooms in the Crucible.

"Renata!" the Doctor vainlessly called for her. He was terribly scared for her and for the planets. He didn't know whether or not to be ashamed of the fact he couldn't decide which scared him more. "Renata, stop!"

But Renata, whether she heard him or not, thrust one hand after the other and split as many Daleks as she could. Gabby followed in her footsteps and cut through the Daleks that would near her. The Vortex Butterfly had come to life and was going to do whatever it took to keep her loved ones safe. Beautiful golden flames surrounded around her, contrasting the darkness she felt inside her knowing the battle that was upon them. She led the Cosmic Butterfly, her faithful companion, into the land of battle. One powered by the Vortex and the other by cosmic energy, the Daleks would never stand a chance.

"Exterminate!" Renata could hear dozens of them but she felt an incredible surge of power that she wanted to take full advantage of.

"Nine... eight... seven... six…"

Donna blinked awake and, like Gabby and Renata, she immediately knew there was something different about her. A heavy load of power dropped on her, but not in the same way as it had on Renata and Gabby.

"What is going on!?" Martha breathed in at the sight of her best friend taking down Daleks like there was no tomorrow while doing it with butterfly wings.

"The Vortex Butterfly and the Cosmic Butterfly are born," Dalek Caan laughed loudly enough to go over the streaks of energy. "But can they survive?"

"Shut up!" the Doctor practically bellowed at the deranged Dalek.

"Five... four... three... two... one.."

The entire group waited, even both Renata and Gabby had finally stopped once the Daleks in the Vault were dead, to see the end of all creation. They were mighty confused when nothing of the sort happened.

"Oh... closing all Z-Neutrino relay loops using an internalised synchronous back-feed reversal loop!" Donna triumphantly, and rather confidently, flicked a switch from a control panel. "That button there!"

"Donna, you can't even change a plug!" the Doctor didn't know what was going on but he couldn't stop smiling. She looked absolutely at home working the controls.

Donna winked at him. "Do you wanna bet, Time Boy?"

"You will suffer for this!" Davros warned her, but Donna scoffed.

"Sure!" she went for another switch on the control panel and electrocuted Davros. "Oh...! Bioelectric dampening field with a retrogressive arc inversion."

"Alright Donna!" Rose laughed.

The Vault opened its doors to let more Daleks in. Renata raised her hands, taking aim, and prompted Gabby to do the same.

"Bring it," Gabby flexed her fingers. The energy around her was amazing. She wasn't in pain and even though she couldn't control it all so well, she just knew that this could be used for good, not murdering as the new Doctor had said. Plus, she was thinking differently too and she didn't know what that meant! It was as if her brain had opened to new ideas, to new possibilities - different angles to look from!

"I got it, ladies!" Donna called from her spot and somehow powered down the Daleks' blaster-guns. "Weapons non-functional!" She smirked at everyone's confused stares. "What? Macrotransmission of a K-filter wavelength blocking Dalek weaponry in a self-replicating energy blindfold matrix?"

The Doctor's mouth had fallen open in honest, thorough, shock. "How did you work that out? You…"

"Time Lord. Part Time Lord," the new Doctor said a d for a brief moment they shared a silent, knowing look between them.

Donna didn't notice it. Why would she? She was having the time of her life saving the world - worlds! "Part Human! Oh, yes! That was a two-way biological metacrisis. Half Doctor... half Donna!"

"The Doctor-Donna…" Renata realized, thinking back to the Old planet they visited a while ago. "It was just like the Ood said." She turned her head at the Doctor, her Doctor. "It came true." He knew what she was trying to say: if they got that bit right then her prediction was going to come true as well.

He shook his head. Never.

"Holding cells deactivated!" Donna cheered for herself as the holding cells disappeared.

As soon as he was free, the Doctor dashed for Renata. He was about to hold her - or attempt to hug, whichever one felt better - when her wings flapped menacingly.

"Don't touch me," she warned him.

"Ren-"

"-the job is not done. More are coming," Renata turned away from him, head tilting towards the closed doors at the end.

"Ren?" Martha was back on her feet thanks to Jack. She cautiously approached Renata but the Doctor barred her from getting too close. There was something else in Renata's face that he couldn't figure out yet. "Renata? It's me, Martha. I-I can't say I understand very well what all that-" she made a gesture at Renata's wings, "-is but you're not okay. You must be exhausted. You should let me take you into the TARDIS."

"No," Renata said flatly. "I want to put an end to them, all of them."

Gabby wobbled on her feet, for the first time feeling a bit weak from the energy she'd suddenly garnered. "Maybe...it wouldn't be a bad idea…"

"Oi! Doctor!" Donna called to the original from the control panel. "Could use some help!" She already had the metacrisis Doctor with her, but a third set of hands would end things much quicker.

"Stop them!" Davros ordered the remaining Daleks inside.

Donna had other ideas. She clicked a button on the panel. "And spin!"

The Daleks advance.

Renata turned her head at the spinning Daleks, revealing a fury she'd been hiding. The energy was making her let it go. "No spin, just die!" she screamed and fired upon the closest, spinning Daleks.

"Renata!" Martha tried reaching for her but the Doctor was faster and yanked them both back.

"You can't touch her! That's the Time Vortex around her!" he nodded to the dancing, golden flames around Renata's body.

Renata desisted with the measly Daleks spinning around them. She set eyes on the biggest threat of them all: Davros. She stalked towards him, leaving her footprints in Vortex power on the floor. "YOU!"

Martha didn't waste time and shoved the Doctor after her. "Stop her before she gets killed!"

The Doctor quickly glanced at Donna and saw she was busily working with his metacrisis copy then glanced at the others to see them coming out with their own weapons against the Daleks. Gabby was the only one unattended, but Martha practically read his thoughts.

"I've got her!" she rushed for Gabby but remembered she couldn't touch her. Although the more Martha studied the girl, the quicker she realized Gabby's power wasn't as strong as Renata's. Her purple glow came and went, almost as if it were trying to face but Gabby was clinging to it. "Gabby? Gabby, you need to put that energy away!"

"I can't!" Gabby clutched her head. "I-I thought this new mind was great but now I feel like a computer that's overloading. The power... it's a lot."

Martha could only imagine. "Listen, you just have to stop-"

"-I can't! I need to help Renata! It's beyond me, it's an instinct!"

"You're connected," Martha blinked and quickly glanced at Renata. Renata was hell bent on getting Daleks, and now Davros, and it seemed she had a pull on Gabby too. The butterflies were connected in some way.

Near the TARDIS, Jack had gone in to collect his and Rose's guns in case they ended up needing them when they escaped. The others, including Rose, took to pushing away any spinning Daleks that managed to get too close to Donna and the TARDIS. Donna had the metacrisis Doctor working like mad to get all the planets home.

"Activate magnetron!" she ordered.

"Stop it at once!" Davros attempted to go for Donna when Renata struck just in front of him.

She moved to stand right in front with one hand extended forwards, bathed in Vortex energy that was waiting to be released. "You stay right where you are."

"The Vortex Butterfly will murder on her first day?" Davros seemed more bemused than afraid.

"I'd be doing the world a favor," Renata balled her fist, finally letting the rage out that she'd bottled up for years. "No one would miss you."

The Doctor was horrified to hear that logic and much more that it was coming from Renata. He was helpless as he looked between her, Gabby and Donna working madly to get the planets back in place. All three of his companions were changed because of him. He'd ruined them just like everyone before them. And it broke his hearts all over again. They were weapons, just like the Daleks told him. It was his curse and they had to live with it while he could only watch.

Not Renata. He couldn't bear watching her betray her own morals. She was always so sweet, so protective, even when she harbored deep secrets it never changed who she was at her core. "Renée! You can't do this!"

There was a sour smile on Renata's face. "Why not? Really, Doctor, who would give a damn? They're the ones who ruined our world. They murdered everyone. But now I have the power to end them, to pay them back with the same coin."

"Renata, I know where you're coming from. I've been there," the Doctor promised her. He thought of the first Dalek he met right after the Time War. The first Dalek that might have changed. In that time he could care less if it was a safe Dalek, if it had become best friends with Rose and gotten a new perspective on life. He wanted to see it dead, just like all the other Daleks. But Rose reminded him that even though everything was gone, he was still there and deserved a chance to live.

"Renata, you always said that you wanted to go home, that-that you would do anything to go home…" he started again but it was difficult to get out when he could see how each word of his punctured Renata's hearts. "But this isn't it. This won't get you home and it won't bring home back. Renata I'm sorry but... it's gone." Renata's face scrunched harder the more he drilled it into her head, drilled reality into her head. "Gallifrey is dead and going on a murder spree won't do anything to change that. But listen, you have people here too. You have Martha, you have Donna, you have me and you have a young girl who looks up to you. And right now, she's in pain because she's trying to help you."

Renata blinked, for a second coming out of her dark moment, and slightly glanced in the Doctor's way. He was desperately trying to show her a struggling Gabby who was barely able to stay on her feet. Martha and Mickey were trying to bring her towards the TARDIS but the girl refused, saying things about helping her.

"You see?" the Doctor caught onto her temporary moment of lucidness to finish making his point. "I think you're temporary connected and she feels like she has to help you."

Renata returned her attention to her threatening hand. Davros wasn't close to her anymore but all it took was one shot, one shot, and it would be enough to end him.

"It breaks my hearts that I can't bring your family back. Because I would, if there was any way that I could I really would." The Doctor tried stepping closing to her, hoping that he was getting through to her once and for all. "They're gone. Everyone's gone."

Renata started to shake and sniff until it turned into gentle a cry. The golden energy around her body died within seconds. She lowered her threatening hand and brought it against her mouth to cover her sobs. "Oh God, what am I doing?"

When the Doctor knew it was safe, he pulled her into a hug and let her shake and sob for a few minutes. She needed it.

By the control panel, Donna and the metacrisis Doctor were almost done working.

"We got it, Doctor! Ha!" Donna laughed as she watched each planet return to their rightful place.

Rose and Jack came by to see their progress, though Rose's gaze often fell on the original Doctor with Renata.

"Is anyone gonna tell us what's going on?" Jack asked them.

"The Doctor - the original - poured all his regeneration energy into his spare hand," Donna explained rather fast, sounding a lot like the Doctor, "I touched the hand and he-" she nodded to the metacrisis Doctor, "-grew out of that, but that fed back into me. But, it just stayed dormant in my head 'til the synapses got that little extra spark, kicking them into life. Thank you, Davros! Part Human...part Time Lord. And I got the best bit of the Doctor. I got his mind!"

"So there's three of you?" Sarah Jane wandered over at the explanation.

Even Rose was wearing the same face of surprise. "Three Doctors?"

"I can't tell you what I'm thinking right now!" Jack looked away for the same reason. It was then that he saw the original Doctor and Renata finally making their way to them. "Doc! Donna just explained how there's three of you now!"

"Great," the Doctor was walking slowly with Renata. He checked behind him to see Martha and Mickey were able to bring Gabby along.

"Donna, you were so unique that the timelines were converging on you," Renata managed to smile, though it was a tired one. "Human Being with a Time Lord brain."

"Very special," Gabby added. She was looking better too now that her link with Renata was lowering because the Time Lady's murderous endeavors stopped.

"But you promised me, Dalek Caan. Why did you not forsee this?" Davros turned his chair to Dalek Caan in new flourished anger.

Dalek Caan giggled knowingly.

"Oh, I think he did," the Doctor said when he figured it out. "Something's been manipulating the timelines for ages... getting Donna Noble to the right place at the right time."

"This would always have happened. I only helped, Doctor."

Davros didn't want to believe that his entire plan had failed and much more that it was always going to fail. "You...betrayed the Daleks?"

"I saw the Daleks. What we have done throughout time and space. I saw the truth of us, Creator, and I decreed 'no more'."

"Dalek...on our side?" Renata would act more surprised if her facial features would allow it.

"Heads up!" Jack called when he saw the Vault doors opening up.

The Supreme Dalek had descended to the room. "Davros, you have betrayed us."

"It was Dalek Caan!"

"The Vault will be purged! You will all be exterminated!" the Supreme Dalek sent a death ray towards a central column, causing sparks to fly.

Jack had another thing to say. "Like I was saying, feel this!" He blasted the Dalek to smithereens with his large gun.

"No!" the metacrisis Doctor exclaimed when he saw the central column had been destroyed with the Supreme Dalek's ray. "We've lost the magnatron! And there's only one planet left!"

"And let me guess," the original Doctor began, "It's Earth?" both the metacrisis Doctor and Donna nodded their heads. "We can use the TARDIS. I'll do it." He brought Renata into the TARDIS and Martha and Mickey came in shortly afterwards with Gabby. "Renée, don't move! Got it?"

Renata had been sat in the Captain's chair and this time she didn't argue with him. She nodded her head instead. "I think the Butterfly is done."

The Doctor cocked his head to the side, disliking her choice of words but time was short. He ran to Gabby next. "Gabby? How we doin'?"

"Better, thanks," she smiled much more easily than Renata. "I think...I think I got a little less than Ren. I-I touched Donna when she touched your, uh, your hand…"

The Doctor paused to think about it for a second. "You must have activated your power via the metacrisis, but you didn't intake the same amount of Donna. It kitck-started the dormant energy of the Block Matrix from Zhe's gallery."

"But why am I not affected like Renata?"

"Renata's mutation was kick-started by Dorothy Bell and her Osiran powers. Plus, every Time Lord carries a bit of the Time Vortex inside them, you don't. You're human. You just have the Block Transfer connection."

"Oh, is that it?" Gabby sarcastically quipped.

"But you'll be fine - you and Renata will both be fine," the Doctor promised then ran for the console. He would get them sorted once they finished sorting this first. Everything would be just fine, just fine, because-

There was a strange commotion coming from the outside, it sounded like screaming. He hurried back outside and saw the shrieking, exploding Daleks from the screen Davros originally had for them.

"What've you done?!" he shouted in horror at his counterpart.

The new Doctor didn't seem that perturbed with the fact he had just slaughtered millions of Daleks in one go. "Fulfilling the prophecy." There was a wildness in his eyes that genuinely scared the original Doctor. "Do you know what you've done? Now, get in the TARDIS!" he roared and pointed the man for the blue box.

The metacrisis Doctor did so but he knew there was nothing more to do. It was already done. The Crucible would explode in minutes.

"Everyone! All of you inside, run! In, in, in, in, in!" the Doctor hurried along the remaining companions into the TARDIS. The Vault went up in flames but despite that, the Doctor knew Davros was still around. If he didn't come, he'd explode as well. "Davros? Come with me! I promise I can save you!"

"Never forget, Doctor - you did this!" Davros voice echoed through the room. "I name you, forever, you are the Destroyer of Worlds!"

The Doctor stayed in his spot for a minute, frozen as he concluded that everything was right. He was a destroyer.

"Doctor!" someone called to him from inside the TARDIS. It snapped him out of his thoughts and brought him right in.

The console was actually crowded - a strange sight for someone who usually travelled alone or at least light - with all his companions trying to gather sense of what they'd just gone through.

"And! Off we go!" he went for the console, starting the TARDIS up. Soon as he did, the group rocked to a side.

"But what about the Earth? It's stuck in the wrong part of space!" Sarah Jane said as if anyone would forget that small detail.

"I'm on it!" the Doctor promised as he worked the console. He got in contact with Torchwood as fast as he could. "I want you to open up that Rift Manipulator - send all the power to me!"

Afterwards, he called up Sarah Jane so that they could get in contact with her son, Luke, and her advanced computer Mr. Smith. He gave them another instruction and once it was set in motion, he rushed around giving each of his companions a control to work on the console. It would be a many-people drive!

Renata could see everybody crowded over the console with the same gleeful smiles on their faces. Her hearts warmed at the sight of all those people who were able to gather together because of the Doctor. She only knew two of them but she only needed to know the Doctor to know that every single one of them were amazing. She closed her eyes and took in a quiet breath. It almost looked like she was taking in her last breath, which was immediately pulled the Doctor towards her.

"Renata!" he scurried up to her seat with such a pale face that Renata would've laughed if she could.

"I'm okay," she said in a frail voice. "I'm just...so tired."

"I know, I know, I'm going to bring you to the medbay and-and we'll do all the testing and-"

Renata brought a hand up to his mouth, quieting him down in a second. Her kind, tired eyes told him she'd already made a decision. "I think I know where I need to go."

The Doctor was puzzled with her. Where could she want to go that wasn't the TARDIS? It hurt just to imagine her not around.

She seemed to have read his mind, or at least part of it anyways. She drew her hand away from his mouth and smiled rather sadly. "You'll be fine. You'll have someone back." Her eyes flickered past him so he followed it to Rose.

He wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

~ 0 ~

Landing back on Earth - that'd been brought back to its rightful spot - felt like a dream for the humans. Sarah Jane couldn't wait and ran out first. She laughed at such normality of the park they were in. It didn't even look like there'd been a massive Dalek invasion 10 minutes ago.

The Doctor came peeking out a few seconds later, but not without Gabby shoving him to the side afterwards.

"We're back on Earth! We're back!" she cheered excitedly. Sarah Jane and the Doctor shared a small laugh as the girl spun around.

"Looks like your doing a lot better," the Doctor noted with a relieved smile.

Gabby was about to nod when a spree of purple butterflies sprang from the top of her head. It made her freeze mid-spin with wide eyes.

Once more, there was a small laughter between the two on-lookers.

"We'll need to work on that," the Doctor said.

Gabby decided to start laying low for now and returned to them. "I...did not mean to do that."

"I still don't understand that," Sarah Jane chuckled behind a hand. "But I imagine this will not be the last time we see each other." She glanced at the Doctor with a biggened smile. "You know... you act like such a lonely man. But look at you! You've got the biggest family on Earth! And you even managed to find yourself another Time Lord - lady. I'm so happy for you." She hugged him and missed the sad smile on the Doctor's face. "Gotta go now!" she pulled away with new excitement. "He's only fourteen! It's a long story. And thank you!"

"I like her," Gabby announced when Sarah Jane ran off.

"Yeah…"

Gabby brought a hand to her chest suddenly, making a face like something was bothering her. When the Doctor noticed it, she explained, "It's really weird. I go back and forth with this. One moment I'm okay and then the next I feel so heavy, like-like I just have to release, you know?"

"Like Renata," the Doctor nodded quietly. He presumed it was the same situation as Renata, only Gabby's energy amount was less than what Renata had.

"I-I should go see how she's doing," Gabby said after she'd managed to get through her small moment. She walked into the TARDIS at the same time both Mickey and Jack emerged.

"Ren, you should sit," Martha was in the middle of saying when Gabby joined them.

"I'm not a baby, Martha Jones. I'm quite older than you," Renata spoke ever-so-calmly and - Gabby had no idea how in such a bad moment - gracefully too. Renata had finally gotten up from her chair and was attempting to walk a couple steps.

Martha rolled her eyes and followed after Renata, arms ready to catch her in case she fell. "You just expelled some weird butterfly powers."

"Time Vortex, thank you very much," Renata turned around slowly to face Martha.

"How did that even happen?"

"A series of events, I'm afraid. We visited an art gallery that used a Quantum Sphere for Block Transfer Computation and infected me and Gabby."

Martha blinked and quickly looked at Gabby, but the girl raised her hands. "I didn't get the worst," she said and Martha sighed. That much she could tell.

"I was further infected - contaminated - by a different alien race, the Osirans," Renata went on. "And my body just never healed."

"And she wouldn't let the Doctor keep running tests on her," Donna came over with a long gaze on Renata.

"Surprise, surprise," Martha folded her arms and gave her best friend a disapproving look.

"Oh don't start, none of you," Renata pointed a finger at each and every one of them. "I don't want to hear it."

"Ren, will you be okay?" Martha's question did make Renata stop just as she was continuing to walk. "Like...like will you…?"

Renata turned back again and softened at Martha's concern. "I don't know," Renata admitted. She didn't want to lie to Martha. "But I need to go somewhere to figure out what I want."

Martha's stomach churned because , knowing Renata, knowing what had just happened, there was no telling what Renata would 'want'. Without saying a word, she walked up to Renata and hugged her really tight. She didn't say it but Renata knew. Just in case...Martha wanted to say goodbye.

"I'm sorry for how we got to know each other," Martha pulled away with a teary face. "I'm sorry I read your diary-"

"-forget about it," Renata nodded. "I burned that thing a long time ago. You were right. I couldn't live in the past. Elek is gone…" she exhaled a shaky breath, "The Assessor is gone, my family...everyone's gone. Maybe living in the past is the reason why I've never been happy." It was why she would rather end things now then keep living like that. She just didn't know how to do either.

"I know you can be happy," Martha smiled her best one. "You have to want it." And that was the thing: Renata didn't know what she wanted.

"See you around, Martha," Renata smiled warmly.

"...yeah," Martha knew that was still up in the air. Still, there was nothing left to do but leave.

"Martha," Renata called just as the woman reached the door, "If you could do one thing for me...get rid of that Osterhagen key, please? I understand why the humans would create something like but it would just break the Doctor's hearts if it continued to exist. Do that for him, will you?"

Martha knew that by extension, she'd be doing Renata her last wish too. "Of course," she promised and walked out.

"Uh, Renata?" Rose gently called to the Time Lady after Martha left.

Renata saw the woman was a bit feeble, almost afraid. Still, Renata felt like whatever Rose was going to say, it would be better if the Doctor was there too. She had a hunch about what it was and Renata didn't want Rose to have to repeat herself.

"Let's just wait a moment, okay?"

Rose nodded but she was biting her lower lip nervously. She needed to get something off her chest now.

~0~

Bad Wolf Bay.

The next stop for the TARDIS was a breezy, cloudy beach.

Jackie was disgusted of the place as soon as she recognized it. "Ugh, fat lot of good this is! Back of beyond, bloody Norway! I'm gonna have to phone your father. He's on the nursery run."

"You have a baby?" Gabby had come out after her and the metacrisis Doctor.

Jackie nodded proudly. "Had a baby boy!"

"Ah, brilliant! What did you call him?" the metacrisis Doctor asked.

"Doctor."

That made the man stop in his Sandy tracks. "...really?"

"No, you plum. He's called Tony!"

Gabby laughed while the Doctor frowned. Jackie Tyler was too funny!

As soon as Rose stepped into the familiar beach, she was puzzled. She didn't understand what she was doing there again. "Hold on, this is the parallel universe, right?" she asked just as the rest followed out of the TARDIS.

"You're back home," the original Doctor said.

"And the walls of the world are closing again...now that the Reality Bomb never happened. It's dimension retroclosure." Donna smiled proudly of herself. "See, I really get that stuff now."

Rose didn't understand - well, she might. Her teary eyes flickered between the Doctor and Renata. "Is this my punishment? For letting the Daleks through the cracks?"

"Of course not," Renata said softly. She was honestly surprised just like Rose. She didn't think the Doctor would actually choose to bring Rose back to her own world, but once Renata figured out the extent of his plans...she couldn't say that she disagreed. "And I'm sorry I put that idea into your head. This was not your fault, Rose. You had a good heart and the Daleks took advantage of that. This is not a punishment."

"Never," the Doctor agreed. "I would never do that to you.

"But you still want me to stay here! After all that time I spent trying to find you! I'm not going back now!" Rose was in full blown tears that were a mix of frustration and confusion.

The Doctor stepped towards her, hoping to catch her down so she could truly listen to what he needed from her. She always listened, after all. She was very good at that. And it did him so well. That's why only she could do what he needed her to do. "But you've got to. Because we saved the universe, but at a cost. And the cost is him." Offence slipped out of the metacrisis Doctor as soon as the gazes turned on him. "He destroyed the Daleks. He committed genocide. He's too dangerous to be left on his own."

"You made me!"

"Exactly, you were born in battle - full of blood and anger and revenge." The original Doctor turned his attention back to Rose. "Remind you of someone?" Rose would not entertain that answer.

"Yeah, her!" the metacrisis Doctor spat and pointed at Renata. The Time Lady was shocked but, after a few seconds she realized he was absolutely right.

"No, leave her alone!" the original Doctor snapped so aggressively that, without his notice, Rose came to her own conclusions.

"He's right," Renata put a hand on the Doctor's arm, calming him. "I murdered Daleks and I would've nearly had Davros if you hadn't stopped me." She swallowed hard and withdrew her hand from his arm. "I always said I was a terrible person. This just solidifies it."

"Absolutely not," the original Doctor insisted that they were both wrong. "You were on your own for 56 years after the Time War. You never got the chance to heal...not like I had someone." He looked at Rose with a new sense of urgent plead. The blonde had cleaned up her tears but others were still pooling in her eyes. "She and him are me when we first met and you, Rose, made me better. Now you can do the same for him."

"And you for her," Rose whispered, eyes catching Renata's shameful lowering gaze. She could understand that, but it didn't mean she was happy about it, not when she realized the truth. It was the truth she'd been blinding herself to ever since she got to their world. The gentle touches, the ferocity to protect each other, the whispers between them…

"You love her," she whispered, crestfallen.

Both the Doctor and Renata froze. They wouldn't look at each other but neither could say that their hearts hadn't stopped for a second.

"Rose, I need you to do this for me," the Doctor said, going on as if nothing had been said. "You're the only one I trust."

Rose wasn't shaking her head, but she couldn't nod either. "He's not you."

"He needs you. That's very me."

"If I may?" Donna cleared her throat and raised a finger. "He's trying to give you something as well. Because you're right, these two-" she spared the Doctor and Renata a soft smile, "-have something complicated but something nonetheless, whether they want to admit or not." The pair's flushed faces confirmed each of Donna's words. "But him…" Donna nodded over to the metacrisis Doctor, "He's from before - the hand? - he's from your time."

Rose side-glanced the metacrisis Doctor, looking him over to see if Donna was telling the truth.

"I look like him and I think like him... same memories, same thoughts, same everything," the metacrisis Doctor stepped towards her. "All from our time together. The only difference is that I've only got one heart."

Rose seemed to stumble back a few steps. "Which means?"

"I'm part Human. Specifically the aging part. I'll grow old and never regenerate. I've only got one life...Rose Tyler. I could spend it with you. If you want."

"You'll grow- grow old at the same time as me?"

"Together."

Rose placed a hand to his chest to confirm what he was saying. One heart.

She glanced back at Renata and the Doctor.

"One of us should be happy," Renata smiled lightly, albeit a bit sad herself.

The TARDIS made an odd noise, pulling everyone's attention for a moment. Time was running out.

"We've gotta go. This reality's sealing itself off," the Doctor said. Renata nodded in agreement. "Forever."

"But it's still not right," Rose wanted to insist but there was something inside her telling her that this was already over. It just hurt to accept it.

"I think we should say one more thing," Renata stopped the Doctor beside her from turning away. "Thank you. Doctor, did you ever say that to her? Because she did a wonder on you."

The Doctor couldn't help playfully roll her eyes, even Rose was smiling just a tiny bit.

Renata drew in another shaky breath. "You have a healing ability, Rose, that no one else has. I would've liked that for me after I got out of the Time War. He's right," she crossed gazes with the metacrisis Doctor, "I'm just as bad. And having both of us in the same world will do no one any good. But if he stays here, you can help him. And Rose, you can be happy. Happy...something not everyone can be. Take this opportunity and be happy."

Rose stared at Renata for what felt like the longest minute for the latter. She had tilted her head, truly studying the Time Lady. "You're not bad. You're just hurting." And as she said those words she realized that the two were right. She was like the Doctor and if that was true then so was the metacrisis Doctor. "And you need help…" she drew in a breath, letting reality finally come to them. "I understand. But I just...I just have to know one thing, just one. When I last stood on this beach on the worst day of my life... what was the last thing you said to me?"

The Doctor gave a small nod, but it was too hard to go back to that time full of pain. He didn't want to add on more, more heartbreak. "I think...I can let him answer that. After all, it was my answer too."

Renata tried turning for the TARDIS, but in doing so she nearly fell. The Doctor grabbed her by the waist and decided it was best to keep a hold around her. And he concluded that he would much rather hold her right now, making sure that she was okay. Still, he wanted to look back one more time at Rose for goodbyes. She seemed to know his intentions and gave a nod.

"Goodbye," she managed to say through tears.

"Goodbye," he returned. He gently pulled Renata towards the TARDIS and do Donna brought Gabby along as well.

Rose despondently watched the TARDIS disappear, that is...until she felt the metacrisis Doctor slip his hand through hers. He watched her with such fondness that, whether or not she wanted to, a smile worked its way across her face. She couldn't say that all was lost this time.

~0~

"There you go," the Doctor brought Renata straight for the Captain's chair again while Donna piloted the TARDIS (her skills were mighty better as well, it appeared). "Let's try to sit for a while, okay?"

"No," she said, already attempting to get back up. "I want to...be there…"she purposely looked past him to Donna.

He became silent. He knew what she meant.

"You know," Donna was saying to Gabby, "I thought we could try the planet Felspoon. After Renata is better of course. Just 'cos. What a good name, 'Felspoon', you know? Apparently it's got mountains that sway in the breeze. Mountains that move. Can you imagine?"

Gabby shook her head. "Nope! But I'd love to see! Actually, I'd like to stop by and see my family first. See how they're doing after all this.

"Oh yeah! Sure! Course we can do that!" Donna chuckled and moved the controls to get them to New York. "You know, Doctor, you could fix that chameleon circuit if you just try and hotbind in the fragment links and superseding the binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary..."

Gabby blinked in shock at the sudden repetition. She looked quickly to the Doctor and Renata but neither of them seemed that surprised, or worried. In fact, it almost seemed like they knew. But knew what?

"Binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary, binary-" Donna sucked in a huge breath to stop herself. "I'm fine!" she laughed it off. "Nah, never-mind Felspoon. You know who I'd like to meet? Charlie Chaplin. I've heard he's great, Charlie Chaplin. Shall we do that? Shall we go and see Charlie Chaplin?" she grabbed the console phone, going fast for some reason. "Shall we? Charlie Chaplin? Charlie Chester, Charlie Brown. No, he's fiction, friction, fiction, fixen, mixen, rixten, brixton-" she doubled over in pain and so the Doctor hurried to help her.

"What's happening?" Gabby stared at Donna, full of concern. Donna was holding her head like something was throbbing.

"Donna, do you know what's happening?" Renata gently called. She was moving to stand up and since there was no point in arguing, Gabby decided to help her.

Donna looked at Renata then the Doctor, knowing exactly what they meant but she just didn't want to admit it.

"There's never been a Human-Time Lord metacrisis before now. And you know why," the Doctor hated to see Donna close to tears, especially when she'd been so ecstatic minutes ago.

"Because there can't be," Donna barely managed to say the words without crying. She gently moved away from the Doctor's hold, as if doing that made it not real. "I want to stay…"

Gabby's eyes widened. Why would Donna say something like that? Why wouldn't she able to stay?

"Donna, look at me," the Doctor said but she wouldn't. "Donna, look at me."

Donna finally looked at him but it was with a certain defiance in her eyes. "I was gonna be with you... forever."

"I know…"

"The rest of my life...travelling... in the TARDIS. The Doctor-Donna. With Renata, and Gabby…"

"Donna," Renata moved towards them with Gabby's help but the moment Donna realized what would come next she backtracked in horror.

"No. Oh, my God! I can't go back! Don't make me go back!"

Gabby blinked away tears at how terrified Donna was. She didn't understand a lot but she did know that Donna was nearing the end of her life in the TARDIS.

"Doctor... please. Please, don't make me go back!" Donna resorted to begging. She couldn't leave everything behind to be that simple, non-important Donna again.

The Doctor neared her whether she wanted him or not. "Donna. Oh, Donna Noble. I am so, so sorry. But we had the best of times. The best."

"No! No!"

"Donna, I'm sorry but thank you," Renata took her turn, feeling tears in her eyes as well. "Thank you so much."

"Donna I'm sorry, I'm…" Gabby couldn't put her words together, but she was sure that Donna knew what she wanted to say. She knew what they all wanted to say: goodbye.

No one was listening to her!

"I am entitled to my choice!" she cried.

"Donna if we don't you'll die!" the Doctor almost snapped. "And I have lost too many people to add you to the list. The world cannot live without Donna Noble. But I promise you, I swear, that things will not be the same. You will not forget that confidence. You will know your worth. Goodbye."

"No. No, please! Please! No, NO! No!" Donna's pleads were silenced the moment the Doctor put his fingers against her temples. Everything she lived went into rewind, all the way until the first moment she met the Doctor…

And it all disappeared.

~0~

With tears, the group brought Donna back home for the final time. They'd placed her in her room then went into the living room to explain to Wilf and Sylvia what happened to Donna.

"She took my mind into her own head. But that's a Time Lord consciousness," the Doctor was explaining. "All that knowledge - it was killing her."

"But she'll get better, now?" Wilf asked hopefully. He was relieved to see both the Doctor and Renata nod together.

"I had to wipe her mind, completely. Every trace of us or the TARDIS... everything we did together, anywhere we went... had to go," the Doctor said grimly.

"All those wonderful things she did…"

"I know. But that version of Donna is dead. Because if she remembers, just for a second, she'll burn up. You can never tell her. You can't mention us, or any of it... for the rest of her life."

Sylvia found it impossible. "But the whole world's talking about it. We traveled across space!"

"It'll just be a story. One of those Donna Noble stories, where she missed it all again," the Doctor managed to smile with nostalgia. Donna Noble, missing a story, would be the theme of her life.

"But she was better with you," Wild tried to argue when Sylvia cut in.

"Don't say that-"

"No, she was!"

"You should be proud of her, though," Renata spoke for the first time since arriving. Both Wilf and Sylvia had noticed the woman's pale complexion. "There are worlds out there, safe in the sky, because of her. There are people living in the light, singing songs of Donna Noble, a thousand million light-years away…and they will never forget her. While she can never remember." It wasn't the ending that Donna deserved at all. Just thinking about it brought fresh new tears to her eyes.

"And for one moment... one shining moment... she was the most important woman in the whole wide universe," the Doctor sighed lightly.

"She still is," Sylvia responded curtly. "She's my daughter."

"Well then maybe you should tell her that once in a while," Gabby quipped. She knew first-hand what it was like feeling worthless in the eyes of your family. She'd worked endlessly at her parent's restaurant and the laundromat, letting life slip away. But when her parents finally told her to do what she always wanted to do, just like she always dreamed of, it brought an indescribable feeling. Everyone needed that, to know they were worth something

Sylvia lowered her gaze and didn't say more. A few seconds later, they heard Donna coming down the stairs. The trio of travelers stiffened when she came in, completely oblivious to their presence.

"I was asleep, on my bed, in my clothes, like a flippin' kid!" she exclaimed with her phone in hand. "What did you let me do that for?!" It hurt more when she spared them the tiniest glances. They were no longer important to her. "Don't mind me. Donna."

"John Smith," the Doctor rose from the couch, prompting Renata and Gabby to do the same.

"Ren," Renata left it short just in case.

"Fernanda," Gabby said and earned herself a brief glance from Renata and the Doctor. Did she forget to mention to them that she had a middle name?

Donna shook each of their hands but almost out of sheer politeness.

"They were just leaving," Sylvia said, eyeing them with a 'you better do it' look.

"My phone's gone mad! Thirty-two texts, Veena's gone barmy, she's saying planets in the sky - what have I missed now?" Donna shouted and turned to leave, but not without a vague "Nice to meet you".

"Like I said, you should go," Sylvia sternly told the trio.

"We will," Renata stumbled to walk up to the woman and she swatted the Doctor's and Gabby's helping hands. "But you mark my words: you better not undo the confidence Donna has built up. The Doctor made sure to leave that part of her intact. Because Donna at least deserved that. She may not be able to see us but we will be keeping an eye on this house, on Donna and if I find out that you are belittling her again I will come straight for you!" Golden flames briefly sprouted from her body, finishing the job of terrifying Sylvia.

The Doctor gingerly brought her back beside him, but he silently applauded Renata. A good scare oughta put Sylvia in her place.

~0~

The trio found that it'd began to rain outside, coming along with thunder to finish the grim night.

"Ah... you'll have quite a bit of this. Atmospheric disturbance. Still, it'll pass," the Doctor explained to Wilf who'd accompanied them to the doorstep. "Everything does…" he turned to Wilf and shook a hand with him. "Bye then, Wilfred."

"Goodbye," Renata went next then Gabby.

"I'll watch out for you," Wilf promised but ended up worrying the Doctor.

"You can't ever tell her!"

"No, no, no. But every night, Doctor... when it gets dark... and the stars come out... I'll look up. On her behalf. I'll look up at the sky and think of you all."

The Doctor was touched of such a thing. "Thank you." He brought Renata down the front porch step and walked slowly with her, despite it being pouring.

Gabby took the lead with a sprint and opened the TARDIS doors for them. The pair came in eventually, now soaking wet. Gabby watched them slowly make it to the Captain's chair and she followed them but there was something she wanted to say that she didn't know how to word well.

She didn't know when it was appropriate to talk after... everything. Donna's forced departure was sure to be something that no one would be getting over soon. Donna had been a part of their small space family. Plus, Donna had been like a confidant for Gabby about all their space travels and what that did to them sometimes. Gabby realized that now there would be no other human - someone like her - to remember those memories. Donna had come first to the TARDIS but it seemed like Gabby would be the one to stay until the end.

"Um, Doctor? Renata?" she began with a soft call. The Doctor had pulled the TARDIS into the Vortex, making the box give a gentle shake. "I, uh, I... I'd really like to see my family. Just for a bit…"

"-of course, Gabby," Renata smiled at the girl. It was natural for her to want to see her family after what happened.

"If you want to stay for a while, that'd be fine too," the Doctor added.

"I don't want to stop!" Gabby exclaimed, wanting to leave that loud and clear. "I don't want to stop anytime soon! I just...I'd like to explain to them what it is I'm really doing. I want to be honest with them."

"Sounds good," Renata smiled but barely contained a groan. Her hand moved to her stomach.

Gabby watched sadly as the Doctor hurried to Renata's side. "Are you going to be okay, Renata?" she asked, sighing.

"Well, no regeneration energy right now so...not dying...for now," Renata scrunched her face. "I don't really know if I'll make it out of the woods, as you humans say. But I think I know where I have to go." She looked specifically at the Doctor for that bit, knowing that it was something he'd been trying to avoid ever since she brought it up earlier. "And I have to stay there for a while."

~0~

Zhe's gallery remained exactly the same as when the travelers first left it. No one was allowed up in her private moon but this time but this time, Zhe herself was down in the gallery when the travelers arrived. She came to greet them as soon as someone alerted her of the wheezing box. However, she knew instantly that something had happened for the Doctor was grim as he and Gabby helped Renata walk out of the blue box.

"What has happened?" she inquired as soon as they were face to face.

"Long story, could I please get a chair?" Renata smiled as politely as ever despite the pain that was rippling through her.

Once Zhe brought them into her office, where Renata could rest on a whole couch to herself, the Doctor began to explain everything. He started with the contamination that began the last time they visited the gallery, and how Renata was further infected with foreign nanonites from Dorothy Bell and the Osirans, then finished it with the Vortex Butterfly bit. He threw in Gabby's own manifested powers.

To say Zhe was in shock would be an understatement, but she wouldn't let that derail her from helping in any way that she could. "I'm sorry my Quantum Sphere did that to you - to both of you," she looked between Renata and Gabby. "I-I thought they would've just faded away."

"It's not your fault," Gabby said. "If anything, it's on me. If I hadn't let your apprentice touch me then neither me nor Renata would've been infected in the first place."

"Hey - no!" Renata was quick to interject. "No one is to blame, except myself. Let's be honest, this is just my punishment for the things I've done in the past. But Zhe, the reason I'm here is because I need to ask for a favor."

Zhe nodded, already agreeing no matter what. "Anything."

"I don't know why but...I feel like this place is the only place where I can be at peace for a while. I need to expel more of this energy, learn to control if I'm not going to die. Your art gallery - your private moon - there's no danger there if I unexpectedly combust. Can I stay, please?"

Zhe's eyes flickered to the Doctor and took note of the deep pain on the man's face. He wasn't at all for this idea but he was doing it for Renata because she wanted it. "Of course, Renata. You are as welcomed here as the Doctor is. You can stay for as long as you need to."

"Thank you," Renata nodded. She glanced at the Doctor as well and figured they might as well get it over with. "Can I just speak to the Doctor alone for a moment?"

"Yes, of course," Zhe nodded. She gestured for Gabby to follow her out. "We'll be outside if you need anything."

"Thank you," Renata watched them leave and when they were gone she finally let herself sigh as deep as an ocean was. She was so tired and if she didn't get to close her eyes in the next five minutes perhaps death would come for her then.

"Renata, you don't have to leave," the Doctor approached her on the couch. "If it's because of what happened before all the Daleks...I would never make you leave."

"It's not just that, Doctor," Renata shifted a bit to better face him. "I meant what I said about this energy thing. If I'm not going to die anytime soon, then I need to learn how to control this and can you imagine if I let it all out inside the TARDIS? All that extra vortex energy will not be good. And you know that, don't you?" the Doctor didn't say anything but his lowered gaze answered for him. "Besides, can you honestly look at me and not feel just a tad of anger for what I did?"

As if to test her theory, he gazed up and looked into her eyes. He wanted to say 'of course not' so badly, but then he remembered her lies...and her so many lies. He didn't want her to leave, nor did he want anything to happen to her, but he was a bit upset too. He was rightfully upset.

Renata smiled so warmly at him, just like Zuriah would. When she reached to touch his face, the Doctor instantly felt the same warmth he used to feel back in their early days. It finally made sense to him why she was so familiar to him, why he so easily fell for her as John Smith. It was why it was incredibly easy to make a choice between her and Rose.

"I love you, Gala," the words just slipped from his mouth before he could even think of it. There was a flutter of Renata's hearts when she heard her true name come from his lips. It'd been one of the most sacred rules they had broken by learning each other's names without being married. But she had loved the way her name sounded on his lips, even now the feelings stayed the same with the same level of love. "Meeting you all those centuries ago was the best thing that happened to me."

"Even though it led to so much heartbreak?" she tilted her head, fresh tears coming to her eyes.

"I would rather go through all that than to have never met you." He took her hand off his face and held it between his two hands. He gave her palm a soft kiss then looked at her again, needing her to understand that he was being 100% honest with her. Yes, he could trade that all in and spare himself the pain he felt losing her and learning that she had been travelling with him all this time. All this he would take just to see her again. That was what Martha had been trying to get him to understand before all the mess happened. "Getting the community service was the beginning of everything. I met the sweetest, kindest girl on that first day. It was the beginning of my greatest adventure - my riskiest - and it was the end of any hope of a life without her. She yelled a lot-" Renata chuckled with her blushing cheeks, "-but she had the best hearts on Gallifrey. Renata, you have a golden soul."

"I don't think I do," Renata's smile became a sad one. "I've done very bad stuff."

"So have I."

"But there's no darkness inside of you. You have always been a golden soul and I don't think that's ever going to change. So please listen to me when I say that despite everything that's happened, I don't want to lose you a third time." The Doctor took a seat next to her, never letting go of her hand. "I lost you once when you said no to running away, and then I lost you again after the Time War. I am not interested in losing you this time around."

"You would really want to...to be with me?" Renata blinked fairly fast out of genuine surprise but also because of the tears that wanted to stroll down from her eyes.

"My sweet Gala, of course. But I know that you're not ready, and perhaps neither am I just yet, so you take your time here. Rest, train, relax. And I will work hard to try to find a cure or something to help you. I'll come around every day to make sure you're okay." He'd much rather stay with her on the planet but he knew well that she wanted to be alone. "And when time passes, maybe you and I...we could, you know…" he trailed off with high hopes that she would nod her head at him.

She chuckled. "I'd...I'd like that." Martha's first words to her, after discovering who Renata truly was, came back to her mind. It was time to move on from her husband. "I mean, to be honest, I don't really know how to...be happy, in a sense. But maybe I can learn with you."

A great big grin came to the Doctor's face. He kissed her hand again then pulled her into a tight hug. Renata welcomed it fast and hugged him as tight as possible.

"Take care of Gabriella for me, okay?" she mumbled after a moment. "I don't want anything to happen to her, nothing like Donna."

The Doctor agreed when he drew away from her. "Nothing. I'll be over-protective to the point she'll want to vent to you about me. But I swear that no one will touch a hair on her head."

"I trust you," Renata smiled.

"Well, alright then…" he awkwardly looked around once he realized the time to go was now. "I'll, um...be on my way, then." Renata nodded. "Here." He pulled out Martha's cellphone from his inside pocket. "I'll answer anytime you need me, I promise." He stood up from the couch and backtracked to the door. "I'll be back, Renata."

"I know," she nodded. "And I'll...be here, working on myself." The Doctor smiled one more time before heading out and when he did, Renata once again had to exhale like she'd been holding in her breath.

A few seconds later, Zhe came in. "The Doctor and Gabby are on their way out."

"Yes, I know," Renata wearily blinked.

Zhe came around the couch and bent down in front of her. "Can I offer you something?"

"Some advice wouldn't be bad."

"Well, alright then. What do you need advice for?"

Renata pursed her lips together and let herself think about everything in her lives that she'd regretted, the unhappiness that came with it - the pain - and she turned her head to the side. "What do you do when you love someone so much but...you just don't know how to be happy?" Zhe blinked in confusion. "Why is that even though I have a wonderful man waiting for me, I still want to...die?"

Zhe went into shock and after a few minutes of processing, she became worried.

"I want to die," Renata's whisper was the last noise to be made in the room for a good while.

[brooklynislandgirl]

It Gets You Coming and Going: Of all moral dilemmas, what's one that truly stumps you and why? {ginglymostoma cirratum}

Questionable Quotes || Accepting The question is posed in so very Anakin a way that it almost hurts for simply existing. There’s layers built up between the syllables that only someone who knows him well enough can pick out, and only the very rare amongst them that can tell you where they came from. The deepest is the bedrock of his anxiety, that deep down he believes himself so unworthy that it’s compressed down into the core of him and become the basic foundation of the rest of his personality. Closer to the surface is the silt of fear that he’s said the wrong thing and has reached the tether of her seemingly infinite patience with him. That she’s finally going to snap and savage him with tooth and claw, glutting on the softness of his emotional state until all that is left is something that once resembled the bones of his resolve. And she knows she’s mixing metaphors here but that’s how she conceptualises the things about Anakin she can’t pin to a board and press under glass. Not that she would ever do that, she finds it horrifying and cruel, especially when not that proverbially long ago collectors would do that to living specimens, murdering them with chloroform. Ether. She keeps from curling her lip.

And maybe for those few precious seconds when she can feel his gaze sliding off her and back to the edge of the water, so extremely uncomfortable in his own skin, she empathises with him. Finds it easier to make this about wanting to view himself through the prismatic lens he’s made of her, where every fractured splinter can be compared to the raw emptiness that sometimes fills his own mind and pushes everything out of the way. So he can lose himself in his perceptions ~and she can tell, so easily, when he is sinking in the stream of Time, which is almost always~ and escape for just a little while from the weight of everything resting on too fragile shoulders.

It’s entirely possible, too, and dangerously so that she interprets a good many of their conversations this way, focuses the spotlight on Anakin rather than herself because the idea of introspection makes her a little queasy. That she herself hides behind all the preconceived notions that people have of her that she twists and bends herself to fit into because without them she would be as shapeless as the infinite void of the darkness that lingers at the very edge of the Horizon in the deepest umbral reaches.

And of course she would also never admit to maybe spending too much time dwelling on the reasons why the question wounds her as a means of putting emotional distance and actual thought far out of the way ~out of sight, out of mine. Because it is not the easiest thing to answer. In fact she isn’t sure there’s one that would capture intent as much as interpretation.

The problem with morality as it would be defined by most people is that it is an arbitrary system. An socio-artificial construct that puts a distinction between right and wrong, or good and bad behaviour. And much like consensual reality, the guidelines of such behaviour are dictated by people. And all people are fallible. Even the Holy Father, though he’s not supposed to be.

There are other factors to consider as well. Does he mean specifically as the question relates to Sleepers? Does he mean as it relates to the Awakened as they, master and apprentice, are? If they are speaking about the masses, then are there certain cultural borders they’re straying across? What is good for one group of society is clearly not very often understood by others and so what might be wrong or atrocious in belief may have mitigating circumstances if viewed outside of one’s own group. Then of course there’s the difference between an individual's moral dilemmas and ethical ones, which are similar but still vastly different. Not unlike the Traditions versus the Technocratic Union. And this is obviously not what Anakin means because he’s never seen the heated debates that often took a twist at the dinner table between herself and her brothers.

She wants to tell him, that of course, there’s all of these factors to be taken into consideration. Wants to ask him what he means ~specifically~ in regards to whose morals are being questioned and she knows too that by doing so she will somehow manage to trample his self-worth because he’ll judge himself as not having spoken clearly enough, slowly or carefully enough. That he did not adequately set up the scenario and thus given her something incomplete to work with. There will come a stunning display of beautiful if heartbreaking physical manifestations of that internal grief and she might actually expire from the grief of it all. And she isn’t being nasty about it, she isn’t mocking him in that breath of silence as she considers all of this.  It is something that she’s come to experience in the almost year that they have spent bound together by practice and...funnily enough...tradition. And she likes to think she knows Anakin this well by now, that however hard he tries to hide it, she will see.

She reaches into the bucket beside her and takes a hold of another chunk of meat and tosses it out across the murky water. It lands with a specific and yet sad little plop before disappearing below the surface. She watches the way his cigarette smoke rises up to wreathe around his curls a little wild tousled today. It’s a little ironic that she could see him as a dragon, and maybe there’s some Mokolé blood in his family tree, as much as there is shark in hers. But he’s still reserved enough that he doesn’t stick his converse down over the side of the decrepit little dock they’re on. To be fair, his legs are far longer, far too close to the dark, algae choked surface. He’s never had his calf nearly torn right off the bone and probably doesn’t need that experience. Not with his hand in the state it’s in, the way cold and weariness make his bones and joints ache with nothing to compensate for it.

And that’s the point where she realises that now she’s just stalling, letting herself drift along the paths of thought, further and further away from the question asked. So she breathes out a sigh and allows a soft curve settle to her lips that is neither exactly a smile or even a smaller grin. It’s something along the lines of patience made manifest, her natural inclination toward indulging Anakin, and it’s also...tired. The kind of thing that appears when she’s worked herself to the bone and hasn’t slept for days but continues to push herself until she’s at the exact point of inevitable collapse. And how often does she do that more and more these days. Doesn’t even try to make it to her room when he’s just as comfortable as his bed and far warmer even if it’s a slightly unhealthy symptom of his body’s attempt to keep his extremities in life-giving blood. She leans back, wiggling her toes out in front of her, though her legs are still covered by the broom-skirt she’s wearing, arms bracing herself from behind, slick and red, sure to leave prints she’ll have to clean up before they leave.  “I don’ t’ink dis really a fair question, Anakin. I mean... dere’s factors. A precise synt’esis would define culture as a body of ideas; norms, rules, standards, values, an’ beliefs. So dat different cultures would derefore have different moral an’ et’ical impact. An’ mebbe even between one generation an’ anoddah, like dem boomers an’ millennials. I mean, you an’ me are kinda li’dat too, as technically I’m a millennial an’ you’re Gen Z. Between all people dere’s dis enforced, learned social norm dat are symbolically an’ practically reinforced an’ referenced in displays dat signal adherence to any specific system. Now, I know ya no talk story about all kine people, ya specifically aks me ‘bout my own issue an’ I guess...” She trails off trying to regather herself. When she speaks again she does that thing she does when she thinks something is important enough to give him the best chance of understanding her, but that slows her speech, gives it a brittle edge.

“Even as hapa ~being half Hawai’ian~ my mother taught me about kuleana. Loosely translated it means “responsibility”. It’s dis concept of reciprocal relationships between the person who is responsible, an’ the things or persons they are responsible for. As Hawai’ians, we have a kuleana to our ‘aina, our land. To care for it and to respect it, and in return... the land has the kuleana to feed, shelter and clothe us. Through that relationship we maintain balance within society and with the natural environment. But you look at the world and everything is for sale, raped by greed and the need to consume. To conform. This... this is a sign of what my uncle’s people call the Apocalypse, but not like in disaster movies. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll tell you all about that.

“Another concept is...Pono. There’s no real translation for it, it’s a concept that incorporates many things. But many people use it to imply righteousness, but not like the way it’s used in society today. For us, anyway, it’s a very strong cultural and spiritual concept for a state of harmony and balance. So you can see how they relate? By accepting your kuleana and making sure you act on them in the right way, you are living pono. Living pono means to make a conscious decision to do the right thing in terms of self, others, and the environment. And we make no distinction between human and animal or plant, in that way.” She slants that hazel gaze toward him via one eye slitted open to make sure he’s following along.  “And I don’t mean that cutting down a tree is the same as say murder. But in a way, it is. You are killing something that was alive. You are taking its mana. If you do it with proper thanks and reverence, if you ensure that you are doing it sustainably, to feed yourself or build a shelter for your family, then you’re behaving within your kuleana. But clear-cutting an entire rain-forest so you can build a luxury golf-course and resort, displacing thousands and thousands of indigenous wild life and polluting the waters and destroying layers and layers of earth, not to mention the risk of exposing entire tribes of people who have no natural resistance to what are common, immunised illnesses? That is no different than slaughtering those very same lives in a far more expedient way. And I don’t know if you think I’m crazy, or if I am over-simplifying the tragedy that we as an entire world of people are creating and contributing to but you can see...the earth herself is restless. She is angry. And those throes of agony ~the global warming, the spirits crying out, the violence and disease...they are all symptoms of that anger, because people as a whole have lost their way. They trust too much in technology and in coping mechanisms that only breed more trouble...”

She’s momentarily lost in the weeds, but there’s no denying the passion in her voice as it trembles with pure and unbridled rage at society’s ills. And not just the ones that have landed on the Sleepers whom they are, in their own ways, charged with protecting, but the ones amongst their own kind and those of the others. “So I suppose, the dilemma I just cannot begin to understand is...with so much happening, and the world around us vanishing with every breath...why are we unable to reach an understanding. Why do we have to fight this war about whose mana is bigger, is better than someone else’s. And not just the Traditions ourselves. Our infighting is bad but we can typically talk things out. I specifically mean this war with the Technocrats. Their science isn’t doing much to improve lives these days and more and more people are looking for alternatives, for the Old Ways. Why not work with us instead of trying to kill or imprison us? Or why can’t some of us... Verbena and Dreamspeakers... some of you Euthanatos- why can’t we make a pact with the Wolfkin. Or the last of the lizard kings-” She glances askance at him a second time in a very playful and knowing fashion. Which is disturbing considering the nature of the remains in the ice chest she was tossing into the water just moments ago. “It isn’t like some of us hasn’t been busy keeping their kin fed. So I think just like the Traditions coming together, or the Technocrats forming their union, maybe it’s time we put political and spiritual beliefs to the side and just work together for the things we want. We’re all really trying to fight the same enemy, and I promise it isn’t you, and it isn’t me and it isn’t Bil..it isn’t any one person. There is evil out there. Real, terrifying evil. Take this guy. What he did to those kids...He was a disease. And like the healer I am and like...like the man you will some day become, we did what was right, for everyone.” Beth shudders then shakes her head.  “I don’t even know how to answer your question, or if I did. All I can say is...there’s no part of me that has any shame for the way I live my life, and therefore there’s no moral dilemma. But if one comes up, I promise you’ll be the first line of defense for my understanding and sanity.”

[legobiwan]

I was the one who asked that last question about the light vs dark and i loved the answer you gave. I hope you don’t mind me asking another. What do you think makes the darkside so difficult to turn back from? Speaking from my own personal experience with mental illness (depression, anxiety, diagnosed anger issues. All of this from birth) in know that all those things can send a person to a very dark place. 1/

Not literally like with the force, but it can do that to anyone and it’s like doing a muscle man marathon to get out of it. It takes incredible strenth to dig yourself out of it and sometimes it’s easy to NOT want to get out of that suffering, painful state because you get so used to it. 2/

I subscribe to the idea that force sensitives constantly have enotions being filtered back at them, even their own which is why they all have to be in control of their their emotions, because if they let emotions like rage and hate and fear and pain and grief and all those things you frequently feel when dealing with those kinds of things, it gets reverted back at you and you are stuck in a cycle of all these negative things the dark side feeds on. 3/

Imagine dealing with all of that as a normal person and then having this echo chamber of it directed back at you and some, i’m guessing, semi-sentient dark side that feeds on that and tries to bring you down deeper. I think another part of it is 1.) Sunk Cost Fallacy and 2.) as you said about Anakin fir example: “well, i ate two cookies, might as well eat the whole bag”. 4/5

I’m sorry this turned out WAYY linger than i originally intended. I’d like to hear your thoughts (i always do) about maybe why the dark side is so hard to pull away from. 5/5

Oh hello again, friend! You ask such intriguing questions, thank you for stopping by!

First off, mental illness sucks and I am sorry that it is something you have had to contend with. I won’t profess to know exactly what you have gone through, but when I was a younger Lego, things got pretty dark for a while, so I do know of that bottomless pit to which you refer and the absolute wrenching struggle it is to dig one’s self out, tooth and nail.

Now, there are a few ideas at play in this question so I want to start with the idea you float about how Jedi feel emotions in the Force as a kind of feedback loop, make one or two detours before getting around to why it is so difficult to come back from the dark side.

“The Force is what gives a Jedi his power. It’s an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us. It binds the galaxy together.”

Yoda basically lays out the Force for us in ESB, describing as an invisible energy field that for me, resembles the way we describe the energy between (and in-between) molecules. And subscribe to the theory that all sentient are at least a little Force-sensitive, if they are able to lower their own barriers enough to listen for that heartbeat, that rhythm and song of the universe (music of the spheres, in a way.) But for the Jedi, well, they are on a whole other level, and to my mind, that barrier I just referred to is a whole lot more permeable, no longer a dense, velvet curtain, but a gauzy, diaphanous veil separating two planes of existence - the one we know and some unseen dimension of energies made, if not visible in the strictest terms, visible to the mind’s eye by metaphor.

In this little scenario I have set up, then, let’s say our Jedi is happy. Simple happiness. If our reality is a glass of water, this one emotion is a drop of food coloring, let’s say green, which, when dripped into the water is coalesced around the focal point of the droplet (the droplet being the emotion within the Jedi) and then branching outwards with its tendrils, beyond the Jedi themselves. In this way, the Jedi can almost see their own emotion outside of themselves. But, of course, at some point, the food coloring will overtake the water and turn the entire glass green, in which case the Jedi has been subsumed by their own emotion unless they can erect some particular carriers around themselves. This, in Yoda’s words, would be control. (A vaguely problematic term that I will get to in a little bit.)

But without that barrier, it does become a bit of a feedback loop, the Jedi (or Sith) broadcasting an emotion which then clouds (aha!) everything around the Force-sensitive who can then feed off that cloud and repeat the entire cycle ad nauseum. And well, we know where that can lead. And so, in a way, that semi-sentient voice that is whispering poems of power, words draped in seductive scarlet into our Jedi’s ear is really their own voice, turned back on them, taking this outside form as a separate being because of this strange feedback loop.

The seeds of our own destruction - and salvation - lie wholly within us.

And so to escape the dark side’s pull, its suffocating cloud, one must, in a way, come out of themselves. Which is what leads us to the Jedi idea of detachment and control, to build that barrier which I referred to earlier, that space of nothingness where our green dye is repelled by that shadow of oxidation, where it can exist on the outside without feeding back, so one might be able to look at it as a scientist might - without passion.

Now, the thing is - and if I may go on a tangent for a moment - the Jedi, especially the Jedi we know during the Republic, refer to this too often for my taste as control, and prefer to totally bleach out any of the dye rather than observe from the outside. To my mind, the Order had become a bit polarized in the wake of Ruusaan Reformation, eager to stamp out any bit of dark side rather than to acknowledge each being’s duality - something Yoda himself rally only came to when he had his adventures with the Force priestesses. It also explains, to a degree, why he is so laissez-faire in The Last Jedi - finally, he has come to true balance, and knows that the universe swings on a pendulum of energy, that light and dark will settle and unsettle again. I know TLJ gets a bad rap in some circles, but I personally adore the way they approached Force philosophy and the Jedi, because balance, to the Republic Jedi - was good, good only. Which is why it was referred to as control.

But seeking control in a universe where we can never control, ultimately, is an of fear, which leads to anger, and etc. 

However, your question is not about the foibles of the Jedi Order, but rather the dark side. Let’s take Anakin as an example. Anakin falls prey to his worst tendencies (and he is powerful in the Force, his connection with that other plane perhaps too strong, his ability to influence it unprecedented but also that open conduit making him more susceptible to everything I mentioned above.) He’s angry, he’s upset, and he turns that first on himself and then takes that fear and turns it on others, burning down the outer world with his inner. But he saves Luke. A fantastic act, but only a single act. Does one life saved balance out the atrocities of the previous twenty years? 

To my mind, no. It’s like those studies they’ve done on reform, where it is often found that behavior changes before mindset. Meaning Anakin has to go through the motions before he is truly redeemed. That, to my mind, is one of the hardest parts, because you can’t just flip a switch and say, hey, I’m light now! Look at Ventress - it took her a while just to get to morally grey and she wasn’t nearly as full-fledged dark as Anakin got. Look at Dooku, who started out grey and through his actions, through his own need for control, fell further and further until he walked right into his own demise. (And this is astounding for a man so intelligent.)

Note, I’m not even touching on that unearthly drug, adrenaline, that anger can unleash, sparking up all those dopamine receptors and as a Force-sensitive, this is only going to be multiplied by a thousand. It’s probably like doing hard drugs and there’s a reason they say the dark side is addictive. And we all know addiction is one hell of a beast to fight, that even in the throes of anger, the hangover must be brutal, emotionally and to give that up to turn light? 

Not easy. Not easy to do alone and the problem is as a Sith you have basically pushed everyone else away so who going to be your support if you even want to recover? (Note how Dooku was always trying to connect with his students. It says something.) And you know, if Anakin hadn’t died on the Death Star, despite everything, I think he would have had the best chance at redemption because Luke would have been there. It would have been a terrible, exhausting experience for all involved (not to mention Leia, who did not have Luke’s soft spot for her biological father, and for very good reason.)

Although after going on about all of this, I will say that from an author’s perspective, exploring a character’s fall and struggle is such an opportunity, narratively. But then again, I love to joke that writing is cheaper than therapy :D 

[ahgaseda]

made of stone || chapter 14

⇥ synopsis : when you return after years apart to pursue a divorce from your husband, Mark, you fall back into a contentious relationship because your partner still refuses to give up his dangerous fighting career...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, descriptions of blood and violence, alcohol or drug use, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

Sweat poured down your face and you suddenly dropped to your hands and knees, dry-heaving as your empty stomach punished you for the stress.

Jinyoung shoved a small bin under you, though he knew you wouldn’t produce anything. Jackson appeared a swift moment later and began dousing your face with cold water from the hose.

“Isn’t this too much too soon?” Bambam questioned worriedly.

Jaebum replied, “Gotta get her into shape.”

“Get up,” Jackson ordered sternly, speaking your name with force.

You shook your head, which only made you more nauseous because your head was pounding.

“This is when it gets hard,” Jinyoung reminded softly. “Push through it and remember why you’re doing this.”

Easy for him to say, you thought, but you knew he meant well and his words lingered.

Jackson turned off the hose and tossed it away, crouching down beside you and waiting patiently.

Your arms were trembling uncontrollably and you knew your body was moving past its threshold and landing somewhere into shock. Digging deep, you got back to your feet and slowly put up your fists.

Jackson mirrored your stance and sidestepped next to you, asking, “You quitting?”

“No,” you answered, voice too meek for his taste.

Jinyoung resumed his position behind the bag, holding it steady as the chains fastening it to the ceiling jingled loudly.

Jackson moved closer and yelled, “You gonna let some bitch put you down?”

Hitting the bag with your fist, you shouted, “No!”

Jackson shrugged, unimpressed. “Then show me something!”

You struck the bag with enough force to send Jinyoung off-balance. He hadn’t expected it.

Jackson smacked your ass and cheered, “There she is!”

Dropping your arms, you glanced toward a stoic Mark seated against the far wall and warned out of the corner of your mouth, “You know my husband is over there, right?”

“Pfft, you one of the boys,” Jackson retorted, sticking out his tongue like a misbehaving child that knew he would fully get away with it. “Don’t even flirt with me.”

You chuckled. The brief levity was sorely needed.

The fight would be in two weeks and it went without saying that you were more than rusty. Firstly, you had never fought in an organized event, legal or illegal. Your training stemmed from self-defense courses, a few jiu jitsu lessons, and scrapping on the street in your adolescent years. Obviously, none of those lended themselves to a career in underground fighting.

Still, you knew you were more than capable of handling the business at hand and no matter what, you had to insert yourself into this world and find the Achilles heel.

Fortunately for you, Jackson was the world’s best personal trainer. He liked to taunt and encourage... very loudly. He knew exactly how to push at your buttons to get the desired result and he was just what you needed with such a short window of preparation.

“I’m trying, Jackson,” you huffed, propping your hands on your thighs and taking a few steadying breaths after another sequence of drills.

Jackson folded his arms and crowded into your space, barking, “You gon’ let some bastard disrespect you?”

That lit a fire under your ass like nothing else. Images of Mark being bum rushed by Jong-Kook’s men made your blood boil. “Never,” you hissed.

Jinyoung braced against the bag as you pounded a combo of hits against the surface with renewed vigor. Each collision rang out in the empty gym.

All the boys were in attendance, of course. They had made comments about getting a workout in, but you knew they were here to watch you and decide if you had a fighting chance in hell.

Jackson was relentless, moving you from station to station as soon as you began to settle. Fortunately for him, you had a lot of trust (and affection) where he was concerned. Or else you probably would have clocked him by now.

Approaching Jaebum, who pulled on mitts over his hands, you took your stance and prepared for Jackson’s new set of demands.

“Start off with three hit combos,” Jackson instructed. “But alternate each time. Right-left-right, then left-right-left.”

You did as told, saying nothing. Jaebum kept the mitts raised, but you knew as you picked up speed he would start lifting and lowering them to sharpen your reflexes.

“Come on,” Jackson urged, snapping his fingers at you, because your strikes were too slow and timid. “Pick it up!”

You were tired and hungry, both of which contributed to you becoming very crabby. Grumbling, you snipped, “I’m hitting them, aren’t I?”

“Damn, where’s the enthusiasm?” Jackson exclaimed, glancing between you and your gloved hands pounding the mitts. “I hope you don’t suck your man’s dick with that energy.”

Yugyeom spat out a mouthful of water, nearly choking as Bambam tumbled off of his stool with laughter.

Even in your irritable, cranky haze, you snickered and just like that, the morale lifted again.

“Give me one more,” Jackson ordered ten minutes later.

Rising from another squat, you whined, “You said one more ten reps ago!”

Jackson replied, “I know you got more in them thighs.”

“I will crush your head like a walnut between these thighs when I’m done,” you threatened, moisture rolling down your neck.

Jackson taunted, “Do I need to get a whistle?”

Still rising and falling with the weighted bar across your shoulders, your leg muscles were screaming and your temper flared. “If you… get a whistle,” you growled between reps. “I will shove it… up your ass.”

Jackson predictably grinned from ear to ear. As long as you had that fire, he knew you weren’t at your limit.

Across the room, Jinyoung tentatively approached Mark, saying, “Should I even bother asking how you’re doing?”

“I’m not the one that has almost passed out three times,” Mark chuffed.

Jinyoung sighed. “Maybe you should go for a walk.”

“Jinyoung…” Mark warned sternly.

“We gotta feed her soon,” Jinyoung added, softening his tone. “Grab us some lunch. Please?”

Mark exhaled heavily, but he couldn’t argue with that. Rising, he nodded and shuffled through the door, making sure it slammed to a close behind him.

“I didn't think I was this out of shape,” you told Jackson, putting your hands on your waist and stretching as your relentless trainer gave you a well-earned, albeit short respite.

Jackson smarted, “Not getting laid for two years will do that.”

“Ha. Ha,” you deadpanned, glaring.

The door slammed closed in Mark’s wake as he left and you lingered your eyes where he had been. Waiting for the sound to stop echoing off of the stone walls, you whispered, “He still won’t speak to me.”

Jackson lifted a brow at your admission, but he was not the least surprised. “Can you blame him?”

Hanging your head, you eventually said, “No.”

“You left him for two years, because he fought. What will you do if he leaves?”

Somber, you blinked at the threat of tears. “At least he will be safe,” you murmured.

Jackson simpered and patted your back in comfort. Blood be damned, Mark was his brother and Jackson would fuck anyone up who dared say otherwise. Which was why he supported you with everything he had and could give. Both of you wanted to protect Mark, including from himself.

“Alright, he’s gone,” Jinyoung announced, having been watching your husband clear the parking lot.

The boys flocked around you and your brow furrowed in confusion.

“Tell them,” Jackson said, arms folding tightly across his chest.

Realizing what he meant, you groaned, “Jacks…”

“They need to know,” Jackson insisted.

A silence fell over the room and dread hung in the air. He wasn’t wrong; the others deserved to know what they were getting into with you.

Wringing your fingers, you said, “I owe Jong-Kook five fights.”

It seemed like a simple statement, but Jackson wouldn’t have gathered everyone together for that. Wary, Jinyoung prompted. “And?”

“I must win the first four.”

“Fuck me,” Jaebum groaned, running a hand down his face and turning away.

“And the fifth?” Jinyoung pressed. You had never seen him so angry, but he couldn’t believe you had done this.

Defeated, your reply was almost inaudible, “You already know.”

“Say it,” Jackson barked.

“I take a dive.”

Jinyoung grit his teeth. “Concussion, fractured skull, brain bleed...”

“You can’t tap out in shit like that,” Jaebum cut to the chase, his lips in a taut line. “They will only settle for a knockout.”

“I am aware of that,” you stated levelly.

Jinyoung insisted, “You can’t do this.”

You planted your feet and asserted, “I have to. Jong-Kook wants to make an example of Mark. And if Mark says anything, he would be talking himself into the Harbor. People don’t give a shit when kids like us go missing. You all know that.”

Silence returned, and it was grim.

“We’ll figure something out,” Jaebum spoke after a pause, somber. “You just focus on not getting hit.”

You nodded, wanting to thank him, but too on the verge of tears to say the words. One by one, the boys dispersed, the laughter and joking having all but vanished.

Only Jackson stayed at your side and once the others were out of earshot, he whispered, “Your biggest fear has always been Mark taking a hit so hard he never gets up, right?”

“Don’t…” you trailed, lips quivering.

Jackson studied you momentarily and let it go. Part of him knew you had something up your sleeve and the other part prayed day and night you would never get that far.

chapter 13 ⇤ chapter 14 ⇥ chapter 15

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[plunder-heaven-and-devour-god]

im gonna go full english lit under the cut

I saw measure for measure??? with my local Shakespeare in the Park about  month and a half ago and im mcfucking obsessed with it. So much so that ive tried to find every clip of every film, every show, rehearsal, production, that i can to compare how scenes played out. I even listened to a harvard lecture about it, i’m that far gone. I BOUGHT. A SHIRT. I bought the book with additional notes and discussions because this play is fascinating.

WHY AM I OBSESSED?!

All readings through different lenses are there in full force, fully supported, living side beside with one another. And professors, actors, directors, scholars etc, all seem to congregate on the fact that not one reading is more valid than the other. Theyre so well balanced without ever really given moral answers but merely presented, almost like the Jacobean meaning of the “glass” both a mirror to predict the future and reflect on oneself. And in a post elizabethan age where puritans were outlawing plays and putting stricter holds on licentiousess this play is so close to upsetting the dominant religious force.

And the READINGS! ARE ALL! SO GOOD! There is historicist reading (king James I), Folkloric, Religious, SadoMasochist, Psychosexual, Moral, Feminist, and Capitalistic readings. THEY ALL EXIST SIDE BY SIDE.

And the staging of the play determines how many of these a production can pull together. I think that is why I wanted to see as many scenes are possible. 

I think just the way Angelo and Isabella are played will determine which main reading the play tackles. 

I’ve seen some versions of the interview scenes that are truly horrific acts of sexual violence that made me watch between my fingers. In this the feminist reading can come into full force, the full underline of Angelo as a sexual predator is made prevalent. And the line “and with an outstretched throat i will tell the world what man thou art, Angelo” being present that strong feminist reading IS ALWAYS THERE. (DID I MENTION I LOVE ISABELLA FLAWS AND ALL). The idea that Isabellas voice is the most crucial device in the play is FLOORING.  

The Duke being a nearly godly figure who knows all and manipulates all, Angelo as his emissary becomes like an angel in the process of self corruption, from the inhumane ice he is so dubbed to warmed by the sins he so condemns. And Isabella defending the thing she so hates because it is her brother who commits the sin is the defense of someone who does not truly believe her brother is just. Mercy as justice. To wield power and to use it for mercy is so profound, and she is the only one who carries her ethos through like this to the end ofthe play. I’m not a theologist but so far this is the reading of theologists into the matter.

The version I saw in person he practically throws himself at her feet and it becomes an interplay of the psychosexual and moral. His knees buckle under her touch, it becomes the interaction of repressed sexuality channeled into both law and religion. In the Stratford production Isabella wipes her brow with water out of disgust or heat, no one is sure. it’s left ambivalent. In the one I saw Angelo was made almost comedic and sympathetic, which made ISabellas mercy still feel like an axe coming down upon his head. 

And then characters like Barnadine just using comedy, the genre of the gods as the greeks called it, to dimish law, to put it to shame. To put the godly/playwright Duke in his place.

The folkloric bed switch (which is folklore yes but Im not totally comfortable calling it consensual even tho Angelo is a sexual predator you can bring modern sensibilities to the reading), is indicative of oral traditions that predate shakespeare. The idea that every character must do in this play the thing they most loathe to do.

Claudio fears death so he must die, Isabella must have sex to save a life when she has sworn herself to chastity. Then they both sort of hurt each other, Claudio by asking her to yield herself up to this non consensual sexual coercion of upmost grossness, and isabella by telling him to be happy he will die because there is nothing so painful as being alive (ISABELLA HES AN EXPECTING FATHER). He asks her to do the thing she loathes most in a fit of desperation because the man who loves life must die. And Isabella the woman who “would wear these keen whips as rubies” would have have done anything but sex, tells her brother that living isnt worth it. ITS INTENSE. LIKE WOW.

It’s absolutely no surprise that Isabella and Angelo are my favourite characters in the play. This awful sexual coercion (the degree of violence is dependant on staging which is like holy shit WTF), lives side by side with the fact that they are the two only people whose language, diction, beats, and intelligence matches each other. They both have the same fervor for their moral divisions and hierarchies. The idea of strict testing of morals and faith is in the text. Isabella wishes for harsher, more challenging, and harrowing tests of faith. You can argue as to why, I personally think its for the strengthening of faith and connection to the divine. Meanwhile Angelo is the one setting restrictions for hundreds of thousands of vienna, setting those on other people to strengthen the connection to a higher moral fibre, and I think in some respects faith as well but thats my interpretation. 

Where others live their vices without restrictions, these two set limits for either themselves and/or others to be something more. They are in the way that motif of the “glass” The mirror. In that sense they reflect each other, but they also become each others foil. Which is why I do think a case can be made for the parallels with the psycho sexual and the SadoMasochist readings. Restraints for rewards, the repression on both their parts is there.

I’m not saying that negates the strong feminist reading or in anyway shape or form validates the absolute horror of the coerced sex/rape. I just say that they exist side by side with each other. They are equals in text/language/fervour AND YET they are not because he holds every power over her and her brother. He wants to restrict others where he cannot restrict himself, and Isabella restricts herself in part because she lives in a Vienna full of vice. She has a control over her own self that he proves not to have. And HE has a control over the world of the play that she cant. 

AND YET. SHE IS MARRIED TO THE DUKE. SHE MARRIES INTO PROMINENCE. I don’t love the idea that she does not become a nun, her original want, and is instead coopted by the shitty duke (i am not pro duke sorry). The only upside at the end of the play is that Isabella can, in some measure, have political sway over the masses. Meanwhile Angelos fall and forgiveness put him into a marriage where his vice of coercive sex becomes consummation of a sleeping marriage. IT FEELS LIKE they sort of mirror each other the whole way through the play. ITS WEIRD BECAUSE THERE IS SO MUCH SEXUAL AND POLITICAL INEQUALITY TO THEM. ITs a play full of contradictions which I LOVE BECAUSE IT IS NOT SIMPLE NOT BECAUSE IT IS RIGHT. I do think there is a case to be made that Isabella unwillingly comes face to face with sexuality, his and hers, and its not on terms she wants, but it happens. And you see her struggling to maintain the authority over her own autonomy. But then she has to contemplate sex for herself, “to give up her boy into saucy sweetness, licentiousness, the filthy vices”. What does ISabella do when she comes face to face with her own sexual needs, whatever she may be? We have productions in the Stratford archives from 50 years ago that make an ambiguous case that the meeting of morality and sex might actually do something for her? I DON’T KNOW. The readings keep coming. There is a possiblity for a strong Ace reading for her which no one really touches on. 

ON A LIGHTER NOTE

This play has my favourite sexual innuendo. When theyre like “WHAT DID CLAUDIO DO?”

“Her?”

“no! What did he do to get taken away by the provost”

“HIS GIRLFRIEND.” 

(god and isnt it nuts that the first man on the scaffold for unlawful fornication IS IN A CONSENSUAL LOVING RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND, A BOND AND CRIME THAT THE LAW (ANGELO) HAVE DEEMED IMMORAL. YET THE LAW (ANGELO) WOULD HAVE IT PARDONNED BY A NON CONSENSUAL SEX FOR EXECUTION PARDON. THE MASK OF MORALITY OF ANGELO. JFC HES SO FUCKED, like hes AWFUL, because he ends up sending claudio to death after he thinks hes had sex with isabella. LIKE WHAT A PIECE OF SHIT ND YET STILL WEARS THE LAW AS HIS MASK AFTER THE ANGEL HAS FALLEN. ITS COMPLEX AND I LOVE IT)

God and just…the sex jokes, the black comedy of barnadine right next to the high shooting morals of angelo, isabella, and mariana (another complex af character. The 1976 version certainly makes a psychosexual explanation out of that, which im not sure i enjoy. Again the psychosexual has its limits in a play about sexual coercion and rape)

AND THE FACT THAT MERCY IS WHAT SETS YOU FREE, LIKE PROSPERO FORGIVING HIS ENEMIES, ISABELLA FORGIVING ANGELO IS A HERCULEAN FEAT, IT FEELS CLOSE TO GODLINESS IDK MAN. AND I UNDERSTAND WHY SHE TELLS HER BROTHER NO I WONT SLEEP WITH HIM FOR YOUR LIFE BECAUSE ITS RAPE, BUT THEN IS LIKE BE GLAD BEING ALIVE IS SHITTY ANYWAYS. Im like? ISABELLA? WHAT?! ISabella does not know about herself that she can be desired because GOD DOES IT TAKE HER A WHILE TO UNDERSTAND ANGELOS MEANING, and yet shes got such a force for words. I find it hard to think being married to the duke that she wont have some power. 

And the exchange of Angelo and Isabella in the second interview.

-His moral stance on unlawful fornication starts with abortive language, the harsh restrictions but DEVOLVES INTO THE SEXUAL WITH THE INTELLECTUAL DICTION, It becomes a mirror of himself until he is explicit of what he wants from her. (OH GOD TRULY HE GIVES ME NAUSEOUS AND YET THE ONE IN THE PLAY I SAW HE WAS ENTHRALLING I HATE THE RANGE OF THINGS ANGELO CAN MAKE ME FEEL). His mask of morality is slowly removed

-ISABELLA must argue on behalf of her brother, believing in restrictions of the kid angelo speaks of, they believe in restraining oneself to achieve a higher form of being, and yet has to straight up defend something she hates because she loves her brother. And ANGELO CAN SEE IT. I WISH THERE WAS AN AFTERMATH WHERE WE SEE HER USING HER INTELLECT AND WORDS FOR HER ENDS. 

I truly think the second interview scene is one of the best exchanges Billy Shakes wrote. Because it ENDS LIKE THAT. GOD the david tennant one is chilling, the oregon shakespeare festival one is fucked. The 1976 which is the most psychosexual was so intensely disturbing that the Angelo got applause for it. IDK What that means and im too scared to ask. Idk how the RSC managed because youtbe doesnt show me that. The Repurcussion theatre was the most varied array of contradictions for angelo instead of just corrupt judge. It literally is all the shakespeare villains that do the most heinous things that Im like THATS MY FAVE. Iago was just RACISM/Sociopath and fifteen year old me was like YES HIM. I mean Richard III is bad but hes fun. ANGELO AT THE BEST IS A SEXUAL PREDATOR AND YET IM STILL LIKE WOW HOW COMPLEX ALSO THE ACTOR WAS SO GOOD LOOKING AND PLAYING UP THE BDSM BOTTOM ANGLE I WAS GONE. 

And the Isabellas go from wilting lily, to some sort of quiet and reserved girl, and the one i saw was literally “she is tiny but fierce” like her voice was really forceful and i thought it was amazing. 

THIS PLAY IS FUCKED WHEN IT COMES TO THESE READINGS LIVING SIDE BY SIDE BUT BOY IS THIS INTERESTING. 

if you made it this far wow holy shit. thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[angstymarshmallow]

Fanfiction: a balancing act

I can’t remember the last time I’ve made a somewhat serious post explaining some of my thoughts...where I wasn’t being melodramatic about my own life or posting fanfiction. But this is it, a post simply sharing some thoughts I have.

Again, it’s my perspective and nothing I say is absolute truth. But posting this does sort of allow me to be at the mercy of the internet.

Every once in awhile a discussion with one or more of my fanfic writer pals comes up. Sometimes we talk about in length anything from the expectations followers have, how often we update but most importantly - the expectations as a fanfic writer you have for yourself.

Sometimes, that may mean going on semi-hiatus for weeks or months because of a lack of inspiration, motivation or just downright writer’s block that you can’t simply avoid. Other times, it means scheduling specific times of the week to release certain content. It really depends on the writer themselves.

However, I think the biggest thing I’ve come to realize - it’s like an epiphany really is how much I truly believe fanfiction life is a balancing act.

At one end, you as a writer are consistently trying to provide content. If you’re like me, that’s the bread and butter of your blog (minus the things you get attached to and post along the way) but generally speaking, that’s why people follow you. They like the pairings you write. They like your writing style. But on the other end, being an active fanfic writer in the community also means supporting other fanfic writers like yourself and other forms of media for the fandom you are in. Maybe it isn’t much of an obligation but rather an expectation on everyone’s parts.

In the beginning, I was very good at both of these things. It’s been about a year plus? Probably two years that I’ve been a fanfic writer. I used to constantly absorb fanfiction and reblog them with my thoughts on the accounts that I found fanfiction I thoroughly. And there was an expectation on my end - assuming/unassumingly so for people to do the same. It felt like the ‘right’ thing to do, or at least common courtesy. I began blogging more, reblogging more - writing more. Fanfictions are the only short stories I have ever created and finished. But at the same time, I was absorbing so much content at an alarming rate. I wasn’t doing as good of a job at work anymore, and my partner had some complaints about me spending time on my phone rather than with him. At that point, it was the awakening I needed.

And for the better part of last year and up until now, there’s been some disconnect. I don’t update as frequently as I used to (and part of that is because of real life; my job, person issues, my health etc) and the other half is my reaction to other fanfic writers on tumblr.

Let me explain. There’s a good amount of great writers; writers that know how to string words together in a way that looks effortless (at least from an outsider’s perspective), writers I haven’t even had the pleasures of reading yet. And then there are writers in general. Some that are very good at tailoring to the audience and popular ships; and others that don’t care for popularity and post what they care about. Basically, there’s tons of talent out there. 

While scrolling on my dashboard, I saw a post recently indicating - writers that have gained a following no longer supports or reblog the posts of other writers (usually smaller or not as known writers of the fandom). This is where I think the biggest urge to kind of collect and write my thoughts in a post came. Reading this, although it wasn’t directed at me specifically, I felt guilty because - have I become such a person? Admittedly, the first thing that came to mind was yes. If I am to compare my earlier experience here to now - it does seem that way. I haven’t been nearly as active and as supportive as I used to be and I feel terrible about it. 

But along with this realization also came the realization there’s a number of factors why and they aren’t not necessarily about writers themselves.

Ironically enough, the biggest problem I have is my self confidence or lack thereof. More often than not, people that have read my stuff, liked it and/or have left comments - usually have something thoughtful or sweet to say - which I LOVE and never take for granted. Regardless of how much other people may appreciate my stories, I still struggle with the same more or less thoughts I’ve had since almost the beginning of my fanfic writing. Is my writing good enough? Will it ever be good enough? Is my writing style the best it can be? Is it changing to become better and better? I find this especially true for pairings that aren’t quite as popular or mainstream. 

Other writers: technically this should go under the same issue. I do have the tendency to compare other people to myself. At first, I told myself it didn’t matter how good someone else is, that shouldn’t diminish me in the slightest. I should be happy for them and wish them luck in all their future endeavors. As I mentioned earlier, there are a lot of writers out there. Some of which has specific niches or books they prefer, while others cover a wider array of books and genres. But there’s also a good amount of writers out there with a lot more interesting plots and notes than my own work. Although, for popular pairings - I do receive a good amount of attention in my earlier experiences, it still doesn’t quench the fears I’ve always had. The worst part is I’ve now started a downward spiral of - I’m not good enough, why do I even try? It doesn’t matter because _ _ are soo much better at this than I am. It’s pitiful, and whiny and it doesn’t help anyone let alone myself. And thus, I begin reading less and less of other people’s fanfiction knowing that theirs are either (1) completely better than mine, and I cannot help but agonize and compare or (2), super popular with its own twists and turns and drama - things that don’t necessarily interest me. And the fact that they interest other people discourage me. Either way, as much as I want to support other people all the time - I’m also selfish enough to recognize I can’t always ignore the impact their work has on me.

Another problem is timing. Sometimes, my personal life is so hectic that I don’t have time to sit and read, or even when I do have time my mind is elsewhere and I can’t connect to a story the way it properly deserves. Other times, my personal life is so unbelievably shitty that I can’t even browse online and read anything because I’m too miserable..or too sad to. Or basically a bunch of other emotional or random things that get in the way and stops me from wanting to.

Hiatus. Sometimes I take small hiatuses from here depending on other things going on. This is kind of linked with my earlier point of timing, but it also has to do with the fandom itself. On a whole, what I’ve come to realize in fandoms in general - discourse and discussions are a natural occurrence. With as many people as there are in a fandom, I think it’s natural to have conflicting opinions and views. We grow up with different experiences, come from different backgrounds and walks of life thus naturally no two people will share the exact thoughts about well, anything. As similar or as different as that may be sometimes it often causes misinterpretations, generalizations, racism, homophobia and other matters that should shed light and educate when possible. Hate (anon hate?) are a negative part of that affects a fandom and its members inclusively. And one can’t talk about the positives without sometimes mentioning the negatives as well. Still outside of a community, it weighs on a person. Even inside the community it does as well. Like I said, we’re all different. A lot of the times though because I don’t actively engage, I don’t feel the weight of it as much as because I’m very used to not taking things personally, (I come from a very strong Caribbean background and that factors directly into some of this)  I like remaining as objective as possible depending on the circumstances (something that school has long since drilled into me) and other times I’m eager for an open discussion and understand how that may affect my mental health. It is also good to note that having different opinions doesn’t make anybody more right or more wrong over someone else. There’s opinions and then there’s facts. And then there’s morals and ethical behavior. Basically, while being vague - I can admire some of the politics that comes along with it but remember in the beginning how I mentioned I use this as a way to escape? Yup, this sometimes goes at ends with that. Sometimes in an attempt to get away, I miss updates and stories from my favourite writers and thus continues the same cycle of balancing. 

TLDR: I guess mostly, I believe fanfiction is a balancing act because of the silent demands and responsibilities that come along with it. I don’t think I come close to meeting most of these demands anymore, because of the examples I’ve listed above. I think I’ve written this as a way to - I don’t know? Relate to other people I guess, hoping my fanfic buddies and myself aren’t the only people who experience similar feelings when it comes to balancing fanfiction with...well everything else in life.

If you read this and actually got to the end, thank you for your time. Sometimes I end up in a tangent and it gets difficult to get back on track. In any case, thanks for listening to me rant.

[daresplaining]

Luke Cage Season 2: Some Thoughts on Misty (and Colleen!)

    Misty had a strong, compelling arc this season. In many ways it was the same as her story last season-- negotiating her role as a cop and the limitations of the justice system-- but it has remained a powerful exploration of her character, and so we wanted to discuss it a bit. 

    Of course, the biggest change in Misty’s life this season is the loss of her arm. While the injury occurs in a very different way in this universe than it does in the comics, the fallout is similar. Misty is forced to reevaluate her whole life, her career as a cop, and her identity itself.  

    Misty is one character who required more attention than she got this season. Her emotional progression took place in between the action, when it felt like it should have been front and center (but heck, maybe that’s just because we’re big Misty fans). That said, her scenes are great. In the comics, Misty comes out of her accident feeling broken and worthless. She is relegated to desk duty, but can’t deal with being benched in this way, and so she quits her job with the NYPD and starts up a freelance detective agency with Colleen. Here in the show, her reaction is a bit different. She still feels a certain degree of self-loathing and despair, but she also retains more of her fighting spirit-- which is perfectly in-character. She refuses to quit, despite a lucrative retirement offer and the barrage of pity and scorn she faces from her colleagues at the precinct. Her reaction to getting benched is to go out in the field anyway, determined to prove to herself that she can still do the job, while still faced with the undeniable truth that things are different now. 

    In the comics, Colleen was a major force in digging Misty out of her misery, and we were overjoyed to see her perform this same role in the show. Since Luke and Danny got an episode-long team-up, we would have liked for Misty and Colleen to receive equivalent screentime, but even their small scenes together are fantastic. Their training scene in particular is great, and is-- as we’d suspected-- an expanded version of a pivotal flashback panel from the comics. 

Misty: “Hey, Col, what’s the use-- I’m right-handed, remember? I’ll never be any good as a leftie. Might as well give it up.”

Colleen: “If that’s what you want. Thought you had the guts, though.”

Deadly Hands of Kung Fu vol. 1 #33 by Chris Claremont and Marshall Rogers

    Since this stage of Misty and Colleen’s lives only takes place in sparse flashbacks in the comics, it’s a thrill to see it expanded upon here. Despite MCU Misty’s tough, confident demeanor, the loss of her arm has rattled her, and the fact that she feels comfortable expressing this to Colleen is proof of their growing bond. In this universe, Misty’s injury is given extra significance via its connection to her basketball playing, and thus her perception of the world. The loss of her dominant arm unbalances her, mentally as well as physically, and this, with its direct repercussions on her crime-fighting career, frightens her. This is a powerful extra layer to her emotional journey, which we found really effective.

    And just like in the comics, as expressed in the above panel, Colleen isn’t having it. Her no-nonsense approach to Misty’s struggles is emphasized by Misty’s anger at being pitied in earlier scenes. This is a common disability narrative; we also see it with Matt (in the comics and the Netflix shows), who hates being pitied more than anything. In the show in particular, this plays a key role in his initial bonding with Foggy. Here, Colleen performs the same service-- she doesn’t give Misty sympathy, to a degree that Misty clearly finds both refreshing and irritating. The reason Misty doesn’t want pity from other people is because she sees herself as pitiable, and hates it. Colleen tries to shake her out of that self-image altogether, both in the gym and (to a greater degree) in the bar afterward. 

    Another neat little detail of Misty and Colleen’s interactions is that they mirror Luke and Danny’s conversations later in the season. Colleen tries to fix Misty’s mindset and restore her emotional balance, just as Danny does for Luke during their team-up. There are even parallel meditation scenes and discussions of chi. It’s great! (Now all four of them just need to team up.)     

    Misty continues to struggle with her disability and the resulting complications throughout the rest of the season (as she should), but her time with Colleen contributes to her decision to face the problem head-on by acquiring a prosthesis. It seemed a little surprising to us that she didn’t already have something considering the amount of time that had passed between The Defenders and this show, but we could also imagine her just not wanting to think about it. It’s a big decision, and requires the proper mindset. And of course, our buddy Danny is there with the save! We’ve talked before about how much we love that the arm is Rand tech in this universe, but another detail we love is the fact that the arm isn’t a perfect, magical remedy. It’s strange. It’s clumsy. It requires an adjustment period, and Misty isn’t all that enamored with it at the start. In some ways, this undermines the power of her getting the arm. She demonstrates a certain degree of super-strength, but we wanted more smashing and butt-kicking! But there will be plenty of time for that in the future, and we appreciated the adjustment period, which added a nice element of realism to this aspect of her story.  

    The arm arc would have been great on its own, but it is coupled with a continuation of the moral struggles Misty faced in Season 1. Once again this season she is shown the limitations of the justice system, and attempts to work around them-- often breaking the rules in the process. This is tied into the aftermath of Scarfe’s corruption. Misty realizes how tempted she is to go down that same path, and it frightens her. She is pulled in opposing directions in her identity as a cop: she fights to keep her job and prove that she’s still effective after the loss of her arm, but in doing so she disobeys orders, thus risking her job. She needs to see justice done, but the limitations of the justice system nearly lead her to break the law. She wants to be a cop, is terrified that that will be taken away from her, yet angers her superiors again and again. She goes back and forth on this part of her identity, giving up and then coming back. For a significant period of time she even quits and goes off on her own. 

    (Oh, Misty...)

    Obviously, as comics fans, we want Misty to leave and form her detective agency with Colleen (looking at you, Iron Fist Season 2...). But this emotional tug-of-war added poignancy to her decision to keep her job. It felt right-- a natural outcome for her journey this season. It’s somewhat amazing, given all of her insubordination, that she wasn’t fired anyway. But a great job has been done these past two seasons to demonstrate that above all else, Misty wants-- heck, needs-- to be a cop. And there’s power in her fight to keep that position.   

    Misty has remained one of our favorite characters in these shows, even disregarding our pre-existing love for her character in the comics, and we’re psyched to see her again soon in Iron Fist!

[silyabeeodess]

Disney Princess Appreciation Post: Part 5

Now we’ve reached the birth of the 90′s and probably my second favorite (really close call for first, but you’ll see one gal I really fight for later on) of the princesses, the fabled French beauty herself, Belle:

(Note: Same as with Cinderella, I will not be taking the live-action version into account.  I haven’t seen it and am not really all that interested to see it.  However, I won’t really be covering the other BatB films as much as I have the other side stories for other princesses as I’ll essentially be repeating myself with their message.) 

Ok, so first let’s just get started with covering the overall theme of the main film: True beauty is found within.  Obviously, we all know where this falls with the Beast/Prince Adam due to his curse from the Enchantress where he is given a monstrous form to match what a monster he was on the inside for judging someone by their appearances and treating them horribly because of it.  He is punished where, instead of being regarded with respect simply for being a prince, anyone will first treat him with fear and hatred because they’ll see him as a beast first and foremost.  However, some of you may ask where this falls with Belle, as its clearly noted over and over again throughout the film how beautiful she is.  Where are the people searching for her inner beauty?  

Well, that’s the problem: They’re not.  The townspeople don’t care at all about who Belle is on the inside, because to them she’s just a pretty face who can have it all solely because of her looks.  They want her to live an easy life clinging as an accessory to Gaston, as a figure to only be acknowledged for her beauty and nothing else.  They don’t try to understand her.  They don’t care about what else is there besides her looks or she wants for her own life.  They talk her down as this ‘crazy, odd’ character for simply wanting more out of life.  Of course there’s Gaston’s dismissal against what Belle wants, but another look shows that pretty much everyone is against her!  The townspeople help set up the wedding for Gaston and laugh at the idea of Belle refusing him.  The townspeople know her father is harmless, but still side with Gaston to gang up on him and Belle with torches and pitchforks in order to throw him into a nuthouse or force Belle into marriage. Yes, you can argue that they didn’t know about the overall plan.  However, there are men shown listening in on Gaston when he’s plotting this and either way that still doesn’t excuse that they’re fine with tossing Maurice into an asylum.  They’re horrible people!  Even when Belle proves herself with a magic mirror, they don’t listen to a word she says.

Just a side note with this on the mob itself, so you can skip this paragraph if you just want the review/analysis: Now, there’s a point to which I don’t like mob mentality presented in some films--Moana, I’m looking at you--because they sometimes end up disintegrating background characters into mindless puppets that tend to only act for conveniences sake, like they have no real self.  I let this slide for a couple reasons with BatB though. First that there are some bg characters who do act with their own personalities that would contradict the desires of the overall group (Gaston’s fangirls and the bookshop keeper who supports Belle’s love of reading): The second that Disney has done a few things that show not everyone did rally to Gaston in the mob, particularly at one of their parks, Hollywood Studios.  Maybe I just got lucky with the showing I saw, but when they performed “The Mob Song” on stage at the park, Gaston actually shoved a few of the extras in the scene who showed reluctance about joining--using the line “If you’re not with us, you’re against us,” on them instead on Belle--and then they exited the stage.  I don’t give you props all that often anymore Disney, but you have my applause there: Nice touch!  Anyway, back to the topic!

So Belle is forced under the same judgement as the Beast, albeit to the other extreme, which really is a nice balance for both their characters and the morals the story is trying to address.  And they respond to it in different ways.  The Beast is outright hostile, only delving further into the monstrous personality that got him where he is in the first place.  Belle just kinda rolls her eyes: She hates it, but rather than act snooty or coldly about it, she continues to present herself in a modest, patient manner while staying true to her own values and desires. The only bad thing is that she ends up isolated as a result.

Before I continue with this next section, I’m going to get the Stockholme Syndrome controversy with BatB out of the way now with this analysis from Wotso videos, who I feel covers the issue well. (And so I don’t have to waste anyone’s time with an essay on this myself...) This is necessary for me mention so I can talk about Belle herself:

So yeah, bouncing from Wotso and what I said earlier, Belle’s lived as outcast from society, but she never bows down to anyone and stands by her values.  She’s an intelligent, independent, and strong spirit who doesn’t need others to establish her worth or will cower in the face of adversity. The best example of these traits is scene at the beginning of her time at the castle, when she constantly refuses the Beast and stands up for her father, herself, and what she believes in. She might be a prisoner, but she does all she can to fight back all while keeping her promise. She even breaks her promise at times!!  I’ll quote Belle’s song, “Home,” from the musical here:

“Build higher walls around me, Change every lock and key,  Nothing lasts, nothing holds all of me, My heart’s far, far away, home and free...”

For the quick talk about the side story films, not only do they cover a progression of time we don’t get from just the main film for Belle’s and the Beast’s relationship to develop in (unless you actually pay attention to the weather indicating the passing of months in the movie...), but they also reaffirm these qualities for Belle while simultaneously helping the Beast grow as a character. In the Christmas Special, the Beast refuses to let anyone celebrate the holiday due to it occurring around the time he was cursed and the bad memories associated with it. However, Belle gets the entire castle to set up a celebration behind his back because she supports all the Christmas stands for and knows it’ll be good for him. She even goes so far as to--again--break her promise to not leave the castle grounds just to get a good Christmas tree. This nearly cost her her life because she almost drowned in an iced-over pond, but the Beast found out what was happening at the last second and came to save her. This last action gets her locked up, but she still stands by what she did even if it nearly got her killed and tries to remain happy with the encouragement of the castle servants. Then, later, the Beast is the one to apologize for his actions after Belle’s story for him (she was writing him one as a gift) opened his eyes.  In “Belle’s Magical World,” she stands the Beast up by accident when she focuses her time caring for a wounded bird. This prompts the Beast to jealousy, but he ends up keeping the bird because he enjoys its singing, if in a cage. For everything the Beast does, Belle speaks out against--his outrage at her caring for it, his wanting to keep it when she thinks it should be set free.  To quote her,:

“Your orders are words and words alone: They have no meaning to the bird...or me!”

The Beast eventually learns to genuinely care for the bird, putting himself--and, moreover, Cogsworth--in harms way to help it and setting it free himself. And a lot of this relationship with the Beast and the bird reflects on his relationship with Belle herself. Moreover though, there’s a pattern to it: The Beast does like Belle from the start, but he’s too spoiled, immature, and ill-tempered. Still, in the least he’s had a dose of humility because he doesn’t really see Belle falling in love with him like Gaston does, viewing the whole situation as “hopeless.” He has to grow as a person, and Belle is the person who helps him do just that. And when he is able to grow, it’s that warm, caring side of him that develops that Belle ends up falling in love with herself. The Beast tries to show real expressions of his love for her, getting out of his comfort zone to spend time with her--like when reading and skating--and catering to her interests as he learns them. And eventually, he shows that he loves her so much that he wants her to be free, even if she doesn’t love him, won’t stay at the castle with him, or if he has to remain a monster as a result. It’s worth mentioning too that Belle never confesses her feelings until the very end, when she thinks the Beast is dying, because it shows how all of this had to happen first in order for the two to really find love together.

Got a little off topic, but so what does all of this say about Belle herself?  Again, it testifies to her strong character and the beauty within her. Belle is willing to put herself in harm’s way for what she thinks is right. She’s not afraid to speak her mind. She doesn’t let the cruelty of others turn her into an equally cruel person and is both patient and forgiving, but at the same time is no push over either and will bark back if you make her. She’s someone who looks for the inner beauty in others, because no one ever tried to look for that in her, and she can bring out the best in people. 

Belle embodies independence. She never loses sight of who she is or her own self-worth. At the same time, she’s self-sacrificing and compassionate: A hero who uses her heart and mind to solve her problems rather than someone who lashes out without considering the full of a situation. She teaches young girls to never let people tell them who they have to be, to let their inner beauty shine through, and that a good heart is more beautiful than the fading charm of a rose--one’s physical appearances--could ever be.  

[sleemo]

The All-Stars of ‘Star Wars’

Daisy Ridley, John Boyega, Adam Driver and their “Last Jedi” comrades discuss the difficulties of new relationships, the joys of villainy and those porgs. — The New York Times | Dec 8, 2017

LOS ANGELES — While they tell tales of Death Stars and daddy issues, the “Star Wars” movies are also stories about duality: how goodness and evil can coexist — on the same planet or inside the same person — and what happens when they collide on an intergalactic scale.

These themes are revisited once again in “Star Wars: The Last Jedi,” the eighth episode in the science-fiction saga that George Lucas started in 1977. “The Last Jedi,” which opens on Dec. 15, is the first to be written and directed by Rian Johnson (“Brick,” “Looper”). It follows the resounding success of “The Force Awakens,” directed by J. J. Abrams in 2015, about two young heroes, a scavenger named Rey (Daisy Ridley) and a renegade stormtrooper named Finn (John Boyega), caught up in the search for Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill).

The new film continues where “The Force Awakens” left off, as Rey and Luke are about to meet on the planet Ahch-To, and it promises a further exploration of their relationship to the sullen evildoer Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) and his nefarious master, Snoke (Andy Serkis). It also features the final performance in the series from Carrie Fisher, who played Leia and who died last December.

At a running time of some two and a half hours, “The Last Jedi” continues the adventures of Finn and Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac) and their adversaries Captain Phasma (Gwendoline Christie) and General Hux (Domhnall Gleeson). Somehow it finds room for the new characters Rose (Kelly Marie Tran) and Vice Admiral Holdo (Laura Dern), and a wide-eyed alien species called porgs.

Like the film they made, the creator and cast of “The Last Jedi” can encompass a spectrum of darkness and light, seriousness and silliness, all in the same conversation. Just days before the movie’s opening, they gathered for what felt at times like a solemn high-school graduation and, at other times, like its after-party.

Here, Mr. Johnson, Ms. Ridley, Mr. Boyega, Mr. Hamill, Mr. Driver, Mr. Serkis, Mr. Isaac, Ms. Christie, Mr. Gleeson, Ms. Tran and Ms. Dern discuss their work on “Star Wars: The Last Jedi” and some of the questions it raises. These are edited excerpts from that conversation.

Audiences have a strong sense of what they think a “Star Wars” film should look and feel like. But Rian, you make films that are personal and idiosyncratic. How do you do that in a “Star Wars” movie?

RIAN JOHNSON I don’t think you try to. It would be bad news if you came into this saying, “How do I make this mine?” You’re just desperately trying to make a good “Star Wars” movie — to me that means that it’s a balance between opera and bubble gum. It should make you come out of the theater and feel like you’re 10 years old, and want to grab your spaceships and start flying around. On top of everything else.

For the veterans of “The Force Awakens” —

DAISY RIDLEY I’m not a fan of the word “veteran.” We did one movie! How about actors?

JOHNSON Sophomores.

As you make your way through Star Wars High —

OSCAR ISAAC I was so high the whole time. [Laughter]

— there are actors you were paired with and worked with closely on the last film. What was it like to have those relationships scrambled and rearranged on “The Last Jedi”?

ISAAC What Rian did so well was that he asked the really tough questions. Not only of the characters, but also about the themes that “Star Wars” brings up. What is to be a Jedi? What is it to be a hero? What is it to be, in my case, a hotshot pilot? And then try to find the opposite of that — the hardest thing, the thing that’s furthest away, and have that be what the character has to deal with. Even in pairing the characters, he’s taking away what you know, and making you as uncomfortable as possible.

Was it bittersweet to have Finn and Rey, our heroes from “The Force Awakens,” split up?

JOHN BOYEGA It was horrible when I read the script for the first time and I wasn’t with her. We auditioned together. We went through this whole experience together. To be split apart was scary for me. But then I understood that is something that we could draw from — something that Finn really feels, and Rey really feels. And then I was like, “Oh! Rian does know what he’s doing.” [Laughter]

RIDLEY I felt the same. When I read the script, I didn’t cry right away. I was like, “Wobble, wobble, wobble, [shaky voice] I’m probably going to cry and I need to see Rian.” Then I went into Rian’s office and I was crying my eyes out. I’m not great with new people. I think Mark can attest to that. [Silence, then laughter]

ADAM DRIVER No one says, “No, you’re great!” Everyone else is like, “Yeah.”

RIDLEY I find it really difficult to relax. And then that’s influencing someone else’s performance. You don’t want to be the thing that’s holding something back, when there’s me, going, [awkwardly] “So … how’d you get into all this?” Mark and I were lucky enough to have proper rehearsal time, and then we could talk through everything with Rian. It ended up feeling great, but it was nerve-racking.

We were just getting to see the relationship between Luke and Rey before the curtain came down on Episode VII. In Episode VIII, were you able to pick up where you left off?

MARK HAMILL We had no relationship in VII. It’s left up to the audience to decide if he knows who she is. They established earlier that I had a telepathic ability with my sister — would I know what’s going on now? Would I know I lost my best friend? That’s all left up to the audience, and that’s in the great tradition of the cliffhangers that inspired George in the first place. “Continued next week.” Two years, in this case. But don’t worry, it’s only five months until the next one. [Rolls eyes] Great marketing there, Disney. [Laughter] What are they going to do, fire me?

LAURA DERN Luke Skywalker, ladies and gentlemen. That’s why they titled it “The Last Jedi.”

RIDLEY When I meet people I’m not like [gasps]. [Mr. Hamill pretends to pout, as Ms. Dern playfully rubs his back in comfort.] I’m more impressed with a human than a reputation. To me, I was working with Mark, I wasn’t working with Luke. I was nervous because I was working with a new person and I wanted to do my best, and I wanted the scenes to go well. Luke is regarded in this way, and Rey does understand that. But Rey, on a very human level, is asking something of Luke: “I need some advice here.” We were able to pick up right where we left off, chronologically, and it worked very well.

Is it uniquely satisfying to play a villain in a “Star Wars” movie, where you get to be especially villainous?

DOMHNALL GLEESON It was a delightful surprise, having people come up to me after “The Force Awakens” and say, “You were so bad in that movie.” It meant a lot to me. [Laughter]

GWENDOLINE CHRISTIE It’s always exciting to be bad, isn’t it? It’s even more exciting to be bad as your job. And in a context where it doesn’t impact human lives. It’s particularly resonant at the moment, the idea of, what is a better use of human energy: to serve the group or to serve the individual?

Andy, you play Supreme Leader Snoke, one of your many motion-capture characters, so there’s a whole other layer to your performance.

ANDY SERKIS There’s a gold lamé layer. The Supreme Leader as Hugh Hefner, that’s something that I particularly grabbed onto. The luxuriousness of it all. The thing about Snoke is, leaders are fearful people, because when you’re in a position of maximum power, you can only lose power. And that fear drives nearly all decisions. That fear then makes you aggressive. It makes you want to destroy others. It makes you unable to see or care about others. But when you’re creating a villain character, it’s about humanizing — there’s something important in the task of creating Snoke to find his vulnerability, because that makes him even more dangerous and despicable.

Adam, I wouldn’t say that Kylo Ren is strictly an evil person, even though we’ve seen him do terrible things. Where does he come from for you?

DRIVER The best way I can describe it is, it’s like a conversation that we started with J. J. and it continues through this film. It was less interesting to think of him as pure evil, because I don’t really know what that is. He’s someone who thinks he’s right, more than he thinks what he’s doing is bad. When I meet people who are unable to hear the other side, who not only think they’re right but they’re justified, then there’s no end to what they would do to make sure that their side wins. To me, that’s more dangerous, because the boundaries are limitless. As opposed to just being evil, that seems like it can’t sustain itself. When you feel morally justified, that feels more long-lasting and more unpredictable.

He has a lot of emotional conflict but you seem pretty even-keeled. Am I reading you correctly?

DRIVER No. [Laughter] I’m a rational person. And then I killed my father. [Laughter]

This is the first “Star Wars” movie for Kelly Marie Tran and Laura Dern. What is it like to be initiated into this franchise?

KELLY MARIE TRAN It is both horrifying and amazing. Obviously, I was intimidated, but I never felt intimidated, personally, in Regina George fashion. Every single person sitting here was honest and open. I was allowed to go to set when I wasn’t working and watch them perform. I felt like I was in this epic acting school that I didn’t have to pay for. Someone just gave me the key.

DERN I have to discredit you, Daisy, with your comments about yourself [not being great with new people]. When my daughter came to set, she said, “Oh my God, Mom, do you think we get to see Rey?” I was like, “Oh, we don’t want to bother people.” And then your trailer door opened, and you went, [singing to the “Jurassic Park” theme] “Laura Der-rrrr-rrn, Laura Der-rrrr-rrn.” [Laughter] My daughter was like, “She’s the most welcoming person.”

HAMILL Another royalty for John Williams.

How do you make a movie that finds time to provide moments for every one of these actors?

JOHNSON That’s part of the reason that this movie is a little longer than all the others.

ISAAC He made sure everyone gets to cry.

JOHNSON “Star Wars” is on the public stage in a way that nothing else is. But even on a big scary thing like this, every single one of these people was excited to step outside their comfort zones, to go to places that were really interesting but not necessarily easy.

HAMILL Like the top of Skellig Michael [the Irish island whose steep, precarious mountains are used as the setting for Ahch-To].

JOHNSON I offered to carry you on my back, Yoda-style, but you didn’t trust my legs.

HAMILL Really, when I read VII, I said, “Oh, they’ll do it with green screens and J. J. will be up the road — I’ll be done by lunch.” Little did I know, I’ll suffer for your art, kid.

JOHNSON In the edit room, you get to a point where you realize, ah, we could make the movie shorter but we’d have to give somebody short shrift, and we’re not going to do that because every one of these guys has an amazing journey in the movie.

Is there a character, other than your own, that you wish you’d gotten to play in this film?

ISAAC What Adam does in this movie is insane. It’s incredible. [Mr. Driver begins looking around awkwardly, as if searching for a way to escape the room.] It’s so wild and unpredictable and very magnetic. It made me very jealous.

BOYEGA I have to second that. I was blown away by the conflict and the change in the character arc. And the fights.

ISAAC Oh, the fights. The beautiful fights.

BOYEGA It reminds me, as a guy, of the transition from a boy to a man, learning how to maintain a certain type of energy that you have and choosing the way you let it free. That’s what he struggles with.

Who here got to meet the porgs?

RIDLEY I got to meet the porgs, but also, I’ve gotten about 300 questions about the porgs. What’s the big deal about porgs? They wouldn’t even be able to fly. Their body-to-wing ratio is like a chicken. They can’t!

DERN The more I went on about how adorable they are — it was like looking into the eyes of E. T., I loved those eyes so much — Oscar only continued to talk about different recipes.

ISAAC Porgs with roasted turnips. Glazed porg.

What would you like to see happen to your characters in Episode IX? Do you want to have that much influence over them?

ISAAC Sorry, I was still talking about porg recipes.

JOHNSON It depends on who survives at this point.

GLEESON I only have a small part to play in all this, but if I had decided what I was going to do, from the last one to the next one, it wouldn’t have been nearly as surprising as what Rian came up with it.

ISAAC It’s amazing to think about giving up that feeling of control. You have to just be open and see what’s next.