OK guys hear me out on this but- I think that the entire TAZ world, or at least the seven red-robes are running on a constant majoras mask/refuge year long loop that resets with the earth being devoured by The Hunger, and that there is a second voidfish that (up until now) kept this a secret
Been receiving messages about my OC Cin/Sin (still contemplating on how I want to call them… Cin is a closer nickname to their actual name, but “Sin” is something that’s always stuck for years lmao) but god– yeah I need to show more love to them, I’m currently restructuring their personality a bit. I refer to Cin as “they/them” btw. ^^
Allura pilots the Black Lion and gets annoyed when she finds out Black is hiding something from her. It's even worse when she finds out about Shiro. After some arguing with her, the Lion lets her see it. It's over an hour later when the others come looking for her. She's red faced and flustered. Black was hiding treasured memories of Shiro gushing about 'this most beautiful princess' to her.
i’m not crying i just have an OTP in my eye. please, for your consideration, think of shiro confiding to Black:
i just don’t know why she’d sacrifice herself for me. i mean, i’m just… and she’s-!
do you think she knows how i feel?
she has so much strength, but… it’s nice to know she feels she can be vulnerable about me. because she can, y’know? i want to help her in any way that i can.
god, black, i’m really screwed, aren’t i?
i mean, i fell in love with a princess who is strictly off limits for so many reasons and…
I don’t know if this is common knowledge or not, but this scene here is the first, and only time Edward cries
in the series. From the day he and Al burned down their home until now, this is
the only time.
Ed didn’t cry when he and Al discovered what had become of
Nina. He didn’t cry when she was killed. He didn’t cry when Scar destroyed most
of Al’s body, or when Scar was moments away from killing him. He didn’t cry
when Al accused him of creating a fake soul and binding it to armor, of
inventing a brother as some kind of sick joke. He didn’t cry when he learned
Hughes had died, or when he confronted Gracia and admitted the murder was
likely his fault. He didn’t cry listening to Al admit that he was at his wit’s
end, that he couldn’t stand all the nights alone anymore.
He didn’t cry when he
learned Scar had killed the Rockbells after saving his life, or when Hohenheim
accused him of running away. He didn’t cry when he discovered the thing he’d
transmuted wasn’t actually Trisha, or when Envy told him they were doomed to
die inside Gluttony’s failed portal, or when Bradley took Winry hostage, or
when the fight with Kimblee left him with a ten foot steel beam puncturing his
side. He didn’t cry when Pride hijacked Al’s lifeless body, or when he let Al
be locked up in total darkness with Pride, or when Father took them captive and
used them to kill everyone in Amestris.
And he didn’t cry when Al sacrificed his own soul to save Ed’s
No. He’s gotten angry; he’s yelled; he’s exploded, but he’s never cried. This is the only time, and it’s when Hohenheim tells Ed to his face that
he loves them, more than anything in the world, and only wants for them to be
happy—that everything that happened had been his fault, as their father, as an adult, as the one who should have
been protecting them, and not Ed’s.
And Ed bawls.
Here’s why: Ed hates
Hohenheim, and will easily admit it, but he doesn’t hate Hohenheim in the way
he hates other people. Ed enjoys talking smack about those he genuinely hates—he’ll
talk about wanting to beat Scar bloody for everything he’s done, and wanting to kick the
homunculi’s asses for trying to use him and Al as pawns. Hell, he even enjoys
jabbing at Roy for the personality traits he dislikes. Hohenheim is different though.
Hohenheim is the only person Ed hates that he also hates talking about. Every time
Hohenheim is mentioned, Ed responds with a quick, scathing comment about
the man and desperately changes the subject.
And this is all because Ed doesn’t feel right about his
hatred toward Hohenheim. For all the others, Ed hates them from a blameless
position. The homunculi hurt innocent people, as does Scar, as does Kimblee. Ed
securely knows he’s the good guy who hates these bad guys. He’s the moral one,
the blameless one, pushing back against a truly antagonistic force. And this is
what Hohenheim is not. All of Ed’s
hatred toward Hohenheim stems from a place of projected guilt and
self-loathing. Ed decided to try to
bring Trisha back to life. Ed performed
the transmutation that got Al’s body taken away. Ed burned down their home and enlisted in the military, and Ed agreed to do awful things in order to
try to fix what he’d done to Al. But, if Ed dials everything backwards, he can
almost justify rooting this in the fact that Hohenheim left them first.
If Hohenheim had stuck around, maybe Trisha wouldn’t have
died. And if she had, Hohenheim could have stopped Ed and Al from doing
something so reckless as human transmutation. He’s their father after all. He’s supposed to be responsible for them. But he
left, so Ed can almost rationalize the idea that it was Hohenheim’s leaving
that led to everything bad in the brothers’ lives.
Ed knows this is grasping though, and he clings to it in part
because he’s convinced Hohenheim hates him too. The clearest memory Ed has of his
father is from the morning he left, standing stiff at the doorway, glaring down at Ed before heading out the
door and never returning. (A glare which we later learn was the result of
Hohenheim furiously holding back tears). Clearly, Hohenheim hated Ed and Al and
Trisha enough to just walk out the door one day without saying goodbye. Ed’s probably spent a lot of sleepless nights wondering what
they’d done wrong as a family—what he’d done wrong as a son—to make his own
father not want him anymore.
So when Ed talks about how he hates Hohenheim, it’s 100%
intertwined with a hatred he feels for himself. And it’s an insecurity Ed would
never, ever admit to.
Meeting Hohenheim again in episode 20 only works to confirm
Ed’s fears. Hohenheim is unbelievably cold to him—Hohenheim confirms that, yes, all of this was Ed’s fault. Ed
committed the taboo; Ed burned down their home as a means of hiding the memory.
He’s disappointed in Ed. He hates him as a son. And he leaves, again, without
goodbye, because Hohenheim didn’t return home with any sort of change of heart.
Learning the truth about Hohenheim only serves to scramble
Ed’s feelings. He’s confused; he’s uncertain. He can rationalize Hohenheim’s
departure in the context of preparing the counter-transmutation circle, but
what about his memories of the man who glared at him, filled with hatred, and
left? What about the man who accused him of being a scared, stupid child who’s
to blame for all his failures? What about the man who—if only he’d stuck around—could
maybe have stopped Ed from doing all of this? The truth makes sense, but it
does nothing to alleviate all the guilt and self-hatred Ed feels in relation to
Hohenheim, so he doesn’t soften to his father like Al does.
Until this scene.
Until finally, Hohenheim says everything Ed’s desperately
wanted to believe for the past ten years. Hohenheim loves
him. Hohenheim cares about him.
Hohenheim blames himself for what
happened—he should have been around for Ed and Al, he should have been there to stop them from
doing the impossible, he should have been
their father. He wanted to. More than anything in the world, he wanted to just be there for them. Their family
was everything Hohenheim had loved in life, and he’s sorry, from the bottom of
his heart he is sorry, for how he
left them behind. So sorry, that he wants to sacrifice his life in order to fix
what little of it he can.
And that’s what breaks Ed. He was strong enough not to cry
at any other time, for any other reason, but in these few panels Hohenheim destroys
the mangled, tortured sense of fear and guilt and self-loathing that Ed had been harboring for a
decade. Hohenheim loves him. Hohenheim is happy to be Ed’s father, proud, and
so so sorry.
For the first time, Ed cries. Because for the first time, he feels like he can call Hohenheim “Dad”.
It was a soft knock on the door. That’s all it took. Everyone expected
more. Doors bursting open, sparks flying, like the first time they met. But it
was only a small knock at the front door that changed everything.
Sam tried to get Dean out of his bed for weeks. Whispered reassuring nonsense
when Dean wouldn’t even look at him. Shouted at his brother when he just couldn’t
help himself anymore. But even when Dean would get up, only for a few hours
first; even when he agreed to go on a hunt a few weeks later, he returned to
his bed as soon as possible. Hiding in his sheets. Hiding from the world.
Hiding from the memory of a cold body on the floor and of broken wings burned
right next to it.
It was one of the bad days as Sam called them that turned out to be one
of the best days. Dean was curled up in his bed once more. Pretending to be
asleep and Sam pretended to believe it. And then the knock. It was the softness
of the knock that irritated him. No one looking for the Winchesters would knock
softly. It was always urgent and if somethings urgent you don’t bother with
So, Sam got up and opened to door. Not before getting his gun of course.
And some holy water as well. You never know. And if someone or something knocks
softly at the Winchesters front door it’s probably bad news.
Sam wanted to call Dean but he couldn’t. He couldn’t talk at all. Or
walk. But he managed to nod at Deans room. And Cas understood. He would hug Sam
later, would catch up with him on the couch. He had time. But first he needed
to see Dean. Needed Dean to see him. He stopped in the doorway of the bedroom.
The sheets were thrown away immediately and Dean was on his feet faster
than ever. Their eyes looked. And the sparks that everyone was expecting flew.
Not sparks you could see. No, the ones you feel. The best ones.
This is for you, @elicedraws, as a little thank you for your very kind words that mean so much to me. I actually wanted to write something happy for you but I obviously suck at writing full-sugarfilled-happy stuff… So yeah, thank you very much. You’re amazing.
DISCLAIMER: There is indeed a curse in the film, but it was directed at Nicolas Romanov. Rasputin said to him: “Mark my words; you and your family will die within a fortnight. I will not rest until I see the end of the Romanov reign forever.”
Then magic and the revolution happens, the royal family falls and Rasputin dies. But since Anastasia cheated death, Rasputin cannot rest in peace and is doomed to an existence in limbo. He feels the consequences of his curse, but Anastasia is in no way affected by it throughout the film.
Yes, she looses her grandmother and suffers from hallucinations and amnesia for 10 years, but these things are not connected to the curse from the beginning of the film.
Anastasia - “Let me go! Please!” Rasputin - “You will never escape me child. Never!”
So - back to my random thoughts on this animated classic from 1997!! The more I think about this, the more frustrated I get. My problem with the magic in this movie would have been SO EASY to fix. The only thing needed would have been a curse cast on Anastasia, something along the lines of: “You shall forever be apart from all your family”.
When the curse is first taking effect, that is when Anastasia is separated from her grandmother (instead of grandma just having a weak grip), and then Rasputin´s magic keeps her away from her family. There could have been a short montage her grandmother coming back to look for her granddaughter, but the curse is making it impossible for them to find each other.
Grandmother - “Hold onto my hand!” Anastasia - “Don´t let go!”
Even Anastasia´s amnesia would have been more intriguing his way; the curse is actively forcing out her memories (instead of being the aftermath of an unrelated accident). But throughout the film the memories are trying to re-surface as best as they can in the form of hallucinations and dreams (cue “Once Upon A December!!”). Imagine the ball-room scene slowly but surely becoming more and more green in color as the curse is doing it´s best to hide the memories of her family. This way it would also make more sense why Anastasia cannot recognize her family (or even herself) when looking at the paintings in the palace (btw, why hasn’t all the shit been stolen during these past 10 years???)
It isn’t until Dimitri comes along and forces Anastasia to meet her grandmother again when the curse is finally broken. All in all: the whole idea of Anastasia being a victim of dark magic would have been more suspenseful from a storytelling POV, but this way we would also have had a much better connection between the main character and the villain. Not only are they both cursed, but now the magic that Rasputin possesses has been affecting Anastasia all this time.
Anastasia - “That face…”
As the movie is now, Anastasia is not in any way aware of Rasputin after she accidentally hits hear head as a child. And when they meet again in the movies climax he is simply the man who swore revenge on her family (and has been trying to kill her during the past couple of days without her having any clue about it).
But THIS WAY he would be 100% responsible for her misery - her memory-loss, the separation from her grandmother, her hallucinations - Everything would now be connected to Rasputin instead of being mostly based on a series of unfortunate events.
Rasputin - “And me… A rotting corpse… Last seen at a party like this one.” Anastasia - “A curse!” Rasputin - “Followed by a tragic night on the ice. Remember?”
Notice how all of these lines of dialog would have been more impactful if Anastasia was cursed too!! :o
The point of all this?
IDK. It´s 3.30AM and this is what I do when I cannot sleep - Ramble on about animated movies. But admit that this should have been canon. :P
First of all Emma wasn’t even mad that Killian was the one who Killed Charmings dad. Emma knows that is all in Killian’s past. Emma is more upset that Killian was going to burn the memory and hide it from her. This is progress. This is a NORMAL couples fight. Emma and Killian will get past this and all will be forgiven. Killian, like Emma will learn to not hide any more secrets. Serious this is a VERY GOOD thing. This is part of a HEALTHY relationship.
Okay, so pure speculation here, but I wanted to look at this Dr. Krilov guy a little closer and theorize about the bombshell he dropped last night - that he supposedly treated Lizzie a second time two years ago and erased another memory of hers…
Also, were we given the final clue as to who was actually fighting with Lizzie’s bio dad when she shot her father the night of the fire?
You can’t hide your extreme weight loss.
You can’t hide your protruding ribs and elbows, your skinny and arms and sharp fingers
You can’t hide your broken and discolored nails,
You can’t hide your yellowish and dry skin
You can’t hide your massive bags under your eyes.
You can’t hide sleeping all the time.
You can’t hide your ‘secret’ binges at 2 am.
You can’t hide your diminishing social life.
You can’t hide your awful bad breath .
You can’t hide your fear of eating in public. You can’t hide the fact that you are not actually vegan.
You can’t hide your self harm scars.
You can’t hide a growling tummy begging for food.
You can’t hide your lack of memory and poor concentration.
You can’t hide your failed classes.
You can’t hide the fact that your lying about everything.
You can’t hide your depressed mood.
You can’t hide your lost period.
You can’t hide fainting at the gym
You can’t hide your fear of mirrors.
You can’t hide comparing yourself to other skinny girls.
You can’t hide your addiction to exercise.
You can’t hide the 17,8975 cups of tea you have a day.
You can’t hide your energy drinks and peppermint chewing gums.
You can’t hide cutting your food into 36754347 pieces.
You can’t hide checking the labels of every food product.
You can’t hide your obsession with weight loss diets and diet pills.
You can’t hide the chunks of hair you lose.
You can’t hide your knowledge of the nutritional value of any food product.
You can’t hide your hairy face.
You can’t hide the packs of laxatives.
You can’t hide your thinspo blogs and proana sites.
You can’t hide your old jeans you can’t use anymore
You can’t hide your bruised knees
You can’t hide your cold hands
You can’t hide your constipation and bloating.
You can’t hide your artificial sweeteners.
You can’t hide your shaky handwriting
You can’t hide being cold, even in summer
You can’t hide your eating disorder, because everyone else is also affected by your behavior. Recover for yourself, but also for the people around you that see you dying.
After watching a scary movie with daddy, or going a little too deep into the internet, we all have those nights where everything looks like something. Your jacket looks like “the babadook”, that dark corner might be hiding an alien, or memories of scary images flash in your head. And what if daddy isn’t there?! It’s a tough night to try and get through. I know how to make it easier!
For one, sleep with a nightlight. A cute one that plugs in, or super sparkly fairy lights.
Now, here’s how to get rid of the monster! You imagine whatever ghoul that’s haunting you is trying to dance in roller skates! It actually works. They’ll be too stupid looking to be scary anymore.
he grins, maniacally, the way his father does when the booze is just too good to not finish. he smirks the way cj does, when she’s caught somebody in her web of convuluted lies. he laughs, loudly, and with vigor, the way harriet does when she runs someone through her rusty sword.
but he doesn’t smile.
at least, not in public.
he does in front of a mirror, late at night when he’s sure nobody’s watching. fingers poke and prod at lips that stretch gently across a gentle face, and palms rub across the chiseled cut of his jaw, as if trying to mold it into the right shape. knead it into something terrifying, intimidating. but no matter how hard he tries, he smiles and it’s nothing like how his father grins, how his sisters smirk and laugh. it’s soft. as soft as his blue eyes. as soft as his mousey brown hair. as soft as the memory of hiding behind his mothers skirts when the thunder got to loud.
(sometimes, he finds he can’t remember the sound of her voice. but he remembers her face, the feel of her fingers threading through his hair. her eyes as blue as the sky and her hair as brown as chestnut. she never smiled.
she was soft. so very soft.)
(sometimes harry resents her for it.
other times, he just misses her.)
no, harry doesn’t smile. he’s too pretty when he smiles, fragile and breakable, delicate in ways that the isle would never accept or allow. so he saunters about, swinging his hook, cj’s swagger in his step, his father’s maniacal grin spread across his face. on days his cheeks hurt, he scowls as fiercely as he can manage, stomping across the docks with all the rage he’s seen harriet carry within her. yet no matter what he does, he can never get it right, can never get the crowds to part the way his family makes them, and on days he can’t be bothered he wonders if it’s because of something he’s doing wrong, wrong, wrong–
the turquoise haired girl in front of him scoffs. “you’re such a liar."
he falters. uma doesn’t turn to look at him, she keeps her eyes on the setting sun sinking below the horizon. he watches her for a moment longer, watches the power and the magic simmer deep within her inherited blood, held back by that blasted barrier. against his better judgement, he feels his bravado deflate in giddy awe.
when the sun disappears and the stars come out, she turns to him.
"you don’t need to lie to me,” she says, shaking her head. “you don’t need to impress me. you’ve done it already.”
it sounds too good to be true. “then what do you want me to do?"
"i won’t ask for loyalty. that isn’t something you can find around here.” she shrugs, and harry follows the movement with his eyes, enamoured. “but i’ll offer you a deal– you have my back, through thick and through thin, and i won’t tell anyone about your little mask."
he blinks. "what mask?"
uma says nothing, smirk appearing as swiftly as her hand reaches out and lightly flicks a finger across his cheek. the gesture is sharp, the pain it causes immediate and short, but there’s something gentle about it, understanding, playful. harry breathes a sharp intake of breath.
(later that night, he looks again in the mirror. his hair is unruly because of the sea breeze and his eyes are shining too baby blue in excitement and when he runs a hand down his face, the newly acquired bruise on his jaw is tender.
but when he smiles, he smiles without abandon.
and for once in his reflection, his mother doesn’t gaze back at him.)
(uma’s right, loyalty may not be something that is found on the isle, yet when he follows behind her, watches the whirlwind of fiery anger and power and strength shine out of her dark eyes, that command in her every step, the sharp edges that fit so well into his soft corners, he thinks he’ll follow her to the very edge of the world if he has to.
he is her first mate.
and he is hers.)
disclaimer: i haven’t read any of the books, so there might be a ton of inaccuracies