after actually reading the story i am here to analyze the parallels we see so far. im gonna assume you guys have seen the summaries because they are EVERYWHERE but basically the story centers around a utopian town called Omelas, who’s perfection relies on a singular miserable child. every citizen of Omelas knows this and must make the choice whether to stay knowing the cost of their happiness, or to leave and face whatever is out there.
in the description of the summer festival, it says the horses were adorned with “streamers of silver, gold, and green.” the concept photos must be from before they knew the truth, while they were happy at the festival.
in the teaser we see someone running out of a door (that kinda looks like a bus door to me), through the snow, and into the warm light of Omelas. “I incline to think that people from towns up and down the coast have been coming in to Omelas…on very fast little trains and double-decked trams.” i think the snow symbolizes the cold world outside the utopia of Omelas.
the rest of the similarities all happen in the last paragraph, when the narrator is describing the people who know the truth and choose to leave.
the first one is jungkook standing outside Omelas at nighttime, and all of them running between the buildings. “Night falls: the traveller must pass down village streets, between the houses with yellow-lit windows” and “…they walk ahead into the darkness”
next is jimin walking through the field, “They keep walking across the farmlands of Omelas.”
and lastly, all of them going out together. this is where the story and the video start to differ. in the story, it emphasizes that every traveller who leaves Omelas leaves alone. “Each alone, they go west or north, towards the mountains.” or “Each one goes alone, youth or girl man or woman.” clearly, this is not the case.
they are all walking together, determination in their eyes. “But they seem to know where they are going, the ones who walk away from Omelas.”
If you don’t think McGonagall was invited to James and Lily’s wedding you’re wrong
She was in her office working late one night when she heard tapping on the window; it was an owl, carrying a letter labelled « Minnie »
So of course she knew who it was from
ngl she teared up a little at the thought that Lily and James were getting married, in spite of the war, and that they’d invited her to the wedding
She wondered for a (very short) while if it would be appropriate for her to attend her former students’ wedding, but oh who was she kidding - this was James Potter and Lily Evans, of course she was going
She showed up in a long bottle green silk dress, and a high bun with green feathers sprouting from it
Of course Sirius was the first to spot her when she arrived
He offered her his arm (« you look ravishing tonight, Minnie ») and escorted her to her seat
She didn’t even try to conceal her tears during the ceremony
she was so proud
later Marlene dares Sirius to ask McGonagall for a dance
Sirius looks offended
« I don’t need to be dared to ask Minnie for a dance! I was going to anyway! »
« Minnie, would you care to dance with me? »
« Mr Black, I hardly think this would be appropriate! And may I ask again that you stop using that name! »
« Come on Minnie, you know you love it. One dance? »
*deep sigh from McGonagall*
« Alright, Black. One dance »
Sirius winks at James as he dances with McGonagall
James is dancing nearby with Lily
He looks so betrayed it’s comical
« Excuse me Lily I must go dance with Minnie right now »
Lily rolls her eyes
« sometimes I wonder if you don’t love her more than you love me » she groans
but she smiles and goes off to dance with Alice
James approaches Sirius and McGonagall and clears his throat
« excuse me, Minnie, do you think I could have this dance? »
Sirius looks bewildered (« uh, mate, can’t you see I’m dancing with Minnie?? »)
« Ah, yes, Padfoot, but this is my weeding. I do what I want »
To their surprise, McGonagall nods, « you know, Black, Mr Potter’s got a point.. »
James smirks at Sirius, who stares at them for a second then stomps away mumbling to himself like the drama queen that he is
McGonagall may tell James how proud she is of him while they dance
James may find his eyes to be a wee bit watery for a second
After a while, Sirius reappears
James starts to make a speech about how Sirius should quit trying already (« I am the groom, Padfoot, therefore I am the one who gets to dance with Minnie » *severe eye-rolling from McGonagall*)
but Sirius cuts him off by saying « Prongs, I didn’t come here to ask Minnie to dance with me. I came to ask you. »
« Oh. Well in that case » — he turns to McGonagall — « Minnie, if you’ll excuse us »
James takes Sirius by the waist and they start dancing
Almost half an hour later, Lily sits down next to a grinning McGonagall and sighs « you know, sometimes I wonder if he doesn’t love him more than he loves either or us »
I am SO proud of Harry, it was such an honour to be front row for this one. An unexpected but amazing surprise. He’s just GREAT, there is no other way to define his personality on stage. ALL the songs sound good, for one reason or the other, he plays the guitar a lot. Also, I am quite sure he spotted the big group of larries front row (where i was and where the rainbow flag was waved) and he kept looking at us and smile. What a night.
Welcome to My Life is now online. This is a short I art directed in 2015, created by Elizabeth Ito. We used 3d animation combined with photo bg’s. The animation was done by TeamTo in Paris. We took photos on location and then edited them, added elements or moved stuff around to make them work as backgrounds for the animation. Above is some of the art I made for it.
It was a great project to work on and I’m really proud of how it all turned out.
Here I am on the photo shoot with (on left) Riley Riggen - production coordinator, Elizabeth Ito - creator, writer, director and Rob Getzschman - photographer, editor.
Summary: Based on the prompt: “I have a key to the theatre, and sometimes I go there when I need to think. Apparently so do you.”
Words: 5,296 (ren and i are just…yeah)
A/N: From Ren (@alexanderhamllton) - Guys, it happened!!! Here’s my first collab with Liv, which I’m so so excited about, we wrote the whole thing in one afternoon and I couldn’t be more proud of the result. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do <3
From Liv - I am still dizzy from how much I enjoyed writing this. I finally had the honour of collaborating with Ren (aka real human sunshine) and it was so much more than I could have ever hoped for. Honestly, it is amazing. Happy reading!
There is something very beautiful about a
theatre without an audience. It is filled to the brim with potential, all these
seats just waiting to be filled, an empty stage that could become an entirely
different universe. The lights are dimmed down, and from inside a deserted
Richard Rodgers, it is as if the entire world has stopped spinning.
I… I love you for this anon. I am baby trash and I am Fenris trash. I am trash.
Aveline: She isn’t quite sure, at first, that they’ll be good parents, but she quickly changes her mind when she sees how careful and loving both parents are with their new baby. She knows that this kid is going to end up being as fierce as a dragon and their parents will love them more than anything. She’ll be around for when they run into trouble.
Merrill: She oohs and ahhs and makes funny faces to make the kid laugh. All she had to do was take one look at the happy, proud, sleep-deprived parents to know that this was going to be the best thing for them all. She frequently babysits and tells Dalish stories to get the kid to sleep.
Sebastian: The baby is a gift from the Maker, but the way Hawke and Fenris both look at the child is a miracle. Like Aveline, he wasn’t quite sure at first. Both of them have dealt with such loss and pain. Fenris especially has a tendency to be a bit antagonistic. Yet he could never question that they will be wonderful parents.
Varric: This is going to make for a crazy addition to his book! There’s no denying that this kid is probably simultaneously very safe and very in danger. Most of the city of Kirkwall would rise up in defense of their Champion’s kid, but there were also a lot of factions that might try to hurt Hawke and Fenris using their beloved baby. He starts paying off the Carta to keep an ear out for anyone who might hurt the kid.
Isabela: The sight of Hawke and Fenris with their new baby is the cutest thing she’s ever seen. She’s going to teach that kid how to hold their liquor and all the dirty limericks she’s ever known. And Auntie Isabela will always be around to help make mischief.
Anders: If the baby is biologically Hawke’s and Fenris’, he insists on being the one to deliver it. Even though he and Fenris don’t really get along, Hawke is his friend and he wants to do this. But even if the child is adopted, he’s always there to help. He’ll heal scraped knees and bruised elbows. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Hawke so happy, and even Fenris smiles, so he’s going to do everything he can to make sure they all stay safe.
Bethany: She’s going the be the best aunt ever. Whenever she can find the time to visit her sibling, she’s there, holding the child and playing with them. She knows her sibling and Fenris both have issues, but who doesn’t? She knows from personal experience that this child will be loved and treasured forever.
Carver: He finds the concept of his sibling being a parent kind of strange. Somehow, he’d never really thought it would happen, maybe because of all the years when they had to essentially parent him. He feels kind of bad for that and he makes up for it by helping out with baby care in whatever way he can. If he’s a Templar, he spends most of his down time with the baby. If he’s a Warden, he sends back unique toys or interesting baby clothes from wherever he’s stationed. And he protects both his sibling and their kid from any threat.
Fenris: The first time he holds his baby, he’s terrified. What if he drops them? What if his lyrium can hurt them? What if he’s a terrible dad? But the moment the child is settled in his embrace, all thought flee except that he will protect this child with his life if he has to. He has a purpose now, and responsibility. He knows he’d do anything for his child. He grins at Hawke, wanting to share this feeling. He knows it’s going to be a bumpy road, but he also knows that they’ll make it. It’s going to be wonderful.
Blue Hawke: They are going to nurture their child if it kills them. This baby is everything. They lean against Fenris, their baby snug in their arms, and they know everything is perfect.
Purple Hawke: They have a feeling that this baby is going to be a handful and probably take after them a little too much. If Fenris thinks one Hawke in the house is hard to deal with? Oh, just wait! It’s going to be amazing and overwhelming and crazy and perfect.
Red Hawke: If anyone so much as sneezes too close to their child, there will be hell to pay. No one will ever threaten their family, no matter what. They’ve lost too much. Never again. This baby is beautiful and they know Fenris will be there through it all, just as fiercely protective. This family will be perfect.
Harry said, picking up the conversation from where they’d left it a moment ago
when they’d disapparated from the Ministry, “all I’m saying is, if we knew
where the Selwyns were supposed to have hidden the cursed amulet, we could—”
Ron said, throwing up his hands. “No more work. Shush. Enough. Be quiet.”
alright, no one here will—”
not secrecy I’m worried about,” Ron explained, opening the garden gate, “we’d
be fine here. But we’ve literally just finished work for the weekend, it’s
Friday night, and, more than that, it’s party
time. After all the stick we got from Robards today, I am not going to talk
about this case any bloody more, okay?”
laughed, taking his point. “I don’t know how much excitement you’re hoping for
at a children’s party, but okay.” Both of them looked ahead to Andromeda’s
garden, which was filled with about twenty small children shrieking with glee,
and their slightly harassed-looking parents.
you kidding?” Ron cried. “There’s a bouncy
castle! This is going to be better than any of the parties we go to
normally. Oh, look, there’s Hermione!” he said, brightening still further and
running a hand through his hair. “Hello, love!”
sufficed with giving her a wave, and left the two of them to it, especially
after Ron greeted her with a kiss that probably wasn’t entirely child-friendly.
Before he could go any further in search of other company, however, he was
accosted by a small cannonball flying into his side. “Uncle Harry!” cried Teddy. “You came!”
course I came!” said Harry, ruffling his hair. “I wasn’t going to miss my
favourite Godson’s birthday, was I?”
giggled, then frowned. “Uncle Harry, am I your only Godson?”
☽ synopsis: Jeongguk
fell in love with you over the course of many years. But there were four
specific events that made him fall for you more and more
guys. this will be my first one shot and i am quite proud of finally being able
to finish one. any form of feedback is very much welcome & please give it a shot
In the course of 10 years, Jeongguk had managed to
fall in love with you. But there were a few specific events that really made
him really fall head over heels for you. Four events, to be exact.
If eleven-year-old Jeongguk had to describe the place he
had moved to in one word, it would be quiet. Although Busan is quite known for
being a big city with many skyscrapers decorating the skies and lights visible
from miles away, the district he moved to was like a whole other world in.
Located in the outskirts of Busan, the area could also be described as a serene
place with few people filling up the wide streets. Even though the young boy
was used to quite the opposite, he familiarized himself easily. Befriending
neighboring kids and meeting new people went without complications. Jeongguk
really was a shy kid, but for some reason he managed to get to know many kids
and dared to get out of his shell.
POTC 5: Barbossa, Salazar, and an Alternate Ending
I have been a big fan of the POTC franchise since the beginning, and while I honestly think that Disney is trying too hard to milk every last penny from it and that POTC 5 should be the last of the series (or perhaps that it should have ended before now), I will say that, despite its flaws, the most recent installment wrapped up a lot of loose ends nicely and gave us some great additions to POTC lore and character development. While Jack, unfortunately, suffered a bit in this film–his usual wit and charm replaced almost entirely with attempts at comic relief–Barbossa and Salazar generally make up for it.
Throughout the series, Barbossa has been, in my opinion, one of the most morally ambiguous and well-developed characters, and this installment only furthered my convictions. Originally viewed as a villain opposite Jack, Will, and Elizabeth in the first film, by film number three, he has teamed up with the main couple to help rescue Jack and fight against the “bigger” Big Bads Davy Jones and the British Navy. Here, he is portrayed as being a bit more noble (well, by pirate standards, anyway) and shows great respect for Elizabeth as the Pirate King when she steps up and leads them into battle. By film number four, he has apparently become a privateer (though primarily out of a desire to hunt down Blackbeard in revenge for taking The Pearl, and with it, his leg) but this endeavor doesn’t last long, and as soon as Blackbeard is off the radar, he goes back to his pirating ways. And even AS a privateer, we see a moment of what cruelty he is capable of when he leaves his crew to die at the hands of the mermaids. Nevertheless, he pretty much fully redeems himself in the most recent film through his relationship with his daughter. While, admittedly, it was a bit cheesy and perhaps somewhat out of character at times, I loved the implication that there was once a woman Barbossa genuinely loved and that, upon her death, thinking himself incapable of raising the child, he was actually strong enough to do the right thing and find a place to take her in. It was strange yet incredibly touching getting to see this softer side of Barbossa. The moment Carina slapped him for (supposedly) insulting her father, you could see it in his eyes that he was torn between feeling hurt and ashamed of what he was and simultaneously being proud of her for having the guts to stand up to a pirate of his stature in defense of her father. I would honestly have loved to get an entire film’s worth of father/daughter moments between these two, and after seeing him come so far as to be willing to sacrifice himself for her safety, I really hated to see him go. More on that later…
As for Salazar, I am not yet quite sure what to think about him or how to categorize his character. On the one hand, we have to remember that we are (technically) rooting for the “bad guys” by society’s standards, and while we all love Jack & co., pirates were a real and troubling threat to merchant vessels, the navy, etc. Not everyone they attacked deserved it, and not all pirates are as morally decent as Jack, Will, Elizabeth, etc. usually are. In his mind, Salazar is doing his duty to society and protecting the innocent. Yes, we get a glimpse of him refusing to show mercy to a group of pirates who have surrendered, but to be fair, had their roles been reversed, many pirates might not have shown mercy either. Additionally, Salazar has a personal motivation to dislike pirates, as they were responsible for the deaths of both his father and grandfather–men whom he looked up to, respected, and probably loved. We don’t know exactly how old he was when this happened, but if he was still a child at the time, it would have been EXTREMELY difficult for his mother, as a single woman during a time when most respectable women were not employed much outside the home, to support him and herself. Furthermore, Jack–as a boy–both humiliated him and doomed him to what must have felt like an eternity of a ghostly/undead existence trapped in the Devil’s Triangle. I was reminded, here, of a parallel between the Salazar/Jack relationship and that of Captain Hook and Peter Pan… Jack, much like Peter, is the young, cocky boy who somehow manages to get the best of the more experienced, older sailor. In the original novel, there is actually a line about how Hook (who is stuck in a place which for a child is paradise but for an adult is a living nightmare) feels like a lion in trapped in a cage into which a sparrow has flown. Similarly, Salazar himself tells us that he is the one who gave Jack the surname “Sparrow” because he was “up in the crow’s nest…like a…like a little bird.” Whether or not the parallels were intentional, I don’t know, but as a long-time fan of Hook, it definitely made Salazar a more interesting and sympathetic character to me. On the other hand, Salazar is incredibly legalistic (like Inspector Javert on steroids), obsessive, merciless, and unnecessarily cruel. I realize the Spanish and English navies weren’t exactly friendly toward each other, but you have to admit, Salazar and his crew slaughtering the members of the British navy who enter the Devil’s Triangle was rather uncalled for. It’s like he did it just because he could. He is also so focused on ending Jack’s life that he leaves his newly un-cursed crew to drown at the bottom of the sea. Then again…Barbossa did almost the exact same thing with his privateer crew in the previous film when he left them for the mermaids, and we still root for him… Why is it that when Will Turner seeks revenge on Davy Jones for cursing his father or when Barbossa seeks revenge on Blackbeard for stealing the Pearl and the loss of his leg, we root for them, yet when Salazar has an equally legitimate reason to hate Jack, he is a villain? (I know, I know… Because it’s Jack’s story and you can’t really dislike the protagonist. But still…) Salazar is an interesting guy, and it just seemed WAY too easy to have him turn mortal for all of five minutes and then immediately kill him off. Plus, I felt bad because DID YOU SEE THE LOOK ON HIS FACE WHEN HE TURNED HUMAN AGAIN?!?! He was practically on the verge of weeping for joy! I really wish they would have allowed for him to potentially return in human form for future films. I also have to wonder, having earlier mentioned his likeness to Javert, if put in a similar situation in which the pirates shattered his illusion of the world as morally black and white, he might have had a change of heart (or ya know…a mental breakdown…). Either way, I wish we got more Salazar.
…Which brings me back to the point I was making before… As moving and poignant as Barbossa’s death was, I don’t believe that was actually necessary. Realistically, with Salazar mortal and his entire crew swept away by the sea, it would have been easy for Jack’s crew to take him out once the anchor was raised and everyone was back onboard the Pearl. He would have been severely outnumbered, and they could have easily killed him or taken him captive. True, you could argue that Barbossa was worried Salazar would get to Carina first and harm her before they were back on the ship, but with him in mortal form, all Carina would really have to do to disable him is give him a swift kick in the face. Besides, if she hadn’t been so overwhelmed in the moment, I don’t think Carina would have willingly let go of her father’s hand. She literally JUST found out that the man who saved her life, the infamous pirate captain of Blackbeard’s former ship The Queen Anne’s Revenge, is the man she has spent her entire life searching for. You can’t convince me that she wouldn’t have clung to him for dear life if she had been in her right mind. I don’t blame her, mind you–it’s a lot to take in in such a short amount of time, and I don’t think she had time to fully process it all, but if she had thought about it, I’m certain she would have refused to let him go.
So imagine it, for a moment….
Barbossa guided her hand to the chain, telling her to hold on as he began to loosen his grip, a sad smile on his face. He only just met his daughter but he was already so proud of her. It was a shame he wouldn’t get to spend more time with her, but perhaps it was better this way. She had slapped him when he had insulted her father before she knew who he was. If she had known then, he thought, she might have slapped him a second time. Perhaps now, at least, she might see him as something more heroic than the disappointment that he was.
It didn’t take long for Carina to realize what he was doing, her face turning white with horror as his fingers began to slip.
“NO!” she screamed, latching onto his wrist. “I’ve spent all my life searching for you, and now I’ve finally found you! I’m not letting you go now!”
He had not planned for this. He had hoped to go out in figurative blaze of glory, hoped that in his death he might redeem himself in her eyes and make up for the years he had left her alone in the world. But she wouldn’t let him have that satisfaction. She wouldn’t let him go that easily. There was a fierce determination in her eyes, eyes that remind him of another woman he had once loved. And so for her sake, he held on–tighter than he has ever held onto anything in his life.
As the anchor rose from the water, he saw the crew of the Pearl coming to their aid.
“Hector!” Jack shouted down at him from the deck where the others have helped him aboard. There was genuine worry in his voice.
Strange, he mused, how far they have come. For as long as they had known each other, they had always alternated between being at each other’s throats and being brothers in arms. He had once gone to the ends of the earth–to hell and back, as it were–for the Pearl…but also partially for Jack, he admitted. And seeing his current expression, he had no doubts that Jack would do the same for him because, at the end of the day, pirates though they were, they would always have each other’s back.
He climbed aboard, soaked to the skin and looking far more like a wet rat than the fearsome captain that he was, Jack and Gibbs each grabbing an arm to steady him while Henry helped Carina. He recalled, for a moment, the highly unorthodox wedding ceremony he’d performed on the deck of this very ship all those years ago and smiled almost fondly at the boy, wondering if perhaps he’d be performing another in a couple of years. He had missed so much of his daughter’s life… He hoped it wasn’t too late to change that.
Apparently, it wasn’t because the moment her feet hit the deck, she was embracing first Henry, then him.
“Father,” she whispered.
And for the first time in many, many years, he felt the sting of tears behind his closed eyes.
But the moment was cut short as the last few feet of the chain holding the anchor rose from the depths of the sea, carrying with it a final passenger who hoisted himself over the railing and onto the deck–Captain Armando Salazar, in the flesh, at last. Long strands of dark hair, no longer floating freely as they had in his ghostly form, were plastered against his face, but his uniform–though stuck to his skin with the weight of the water it had absorbed–was as pristine-looking as ever. His face had a bit of color now–more olive than the ghastly chalky complexion they’d seen before, but it hardly diminished his intimidating presence, his eyes still hard and cold.
But intimidating or not, he was no longer immortal. And without a weapon in his hand or at his side–the sword he usually carried having been lost to the sea in the midst of all the chaos–he was, for all intents and purposes, defenseless. He was outnumbered, out gunned, and on a ship which was not his own. He was at their mercy.
Almost immediately, there were a half a dozen swords pointed at his throat and nearly twice as many pistols aimed at his chest, no longer permeable as mist but made of flesh and bone beneath which lay the beating heart of a man. His weakness became apparent at nearly the same moment that he felt the heat of the sun upon his cheek and the gentle sea breeze ruffle his hair for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. In the span of seconds, his face displayed a vast array of emotions almost too quickly for his mind to keep up–the proud, determined look of a hunter having cornered his prey replaced instantaneously with that of immeasurable joy, realization, fear, rage, and defeated resignation.
Surprisingly, Jack was the first to lower his weapon, but it wasn’t so much a gesture of mercy as it was an insult. There was no need for a weapon now. The Spaniard had climbed aboard the Pearl without any men of his own and was now its captain’s prisoner. His only choice was between Jack’s crew and the sharks…and the latter would be much less forgiving. Having experienced death himself before, Jack knew that no sane man who had escaped such a fate would ever take his own life, no matter how desperate. And even if he had considered it, Salazar’s pride would not allow it.
“It would seem,” Jack said, striding across the deck, “that El Matador del Mar has once again met his match. The butcher’s bill has been paid in full. You and your crew have had your humanity restored–that counts for something, I should think. I took your life once. I’ve no desire to take it again, so what say we simply call it even and agree to disagree until I can drop you off on some nice, deserted island, savvy?”
“My crew,” Salazar spat, “is at the bottom of the sea.”
“Well, that’s not my problem, now, is it? I’m not their captain who left them there to drown.”
The Spaniard took a step toward him, forgetting for a moment that he no longer held the sword which often doubled as his cane. He stumbled, then, landing in a heap at Jack’s feet, as his knees buckled at the searing pain that shot up his leg. He was spewing curses, swearing like the sailor that he was in a garbled mix of Spanish and English so viciously that an onlooker who did not speak a word of either language wouldn’t have needed a translation.
“You…!!!” he seethed. “You took EVERYTHING from me!”
He was clawing at the deck, trying desperately to pull himself up, but his leg was too weak. His mortality had returned in full force, bringing with it the fresh pain of an old wound that he had not been able to feel for years. He dragged himself over to the mast that he might have something to brace himself against, crawling on his hands and knees.
“My pride, my ship, my crew, my family, my life, my very soul…” He propped himself up against the mast, too tired and too ashamed to struggle any further. “What more do you want from me?!”
Jack’s gaze softened. “Nothing,” he said quietly. “I never wanted anything from you but my freedom. I wanted you out of my way, I wanted you lost at sea…but I swear on my life I never intended for you to end up…” He gestured to his face, trailing his fingers in lines of imaginary squid ink dribbling down his chin, smacking his lips as though even the thought left a horrid taste in his mouth and shuddered. “Wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”
“You have no idea what sort of hell I have been through.”
“Oh, I think I can imagine…”
It was not Jack but Barbossa who had spoken.
Perhaps it was only because Carina was watching and being a father made him want to be a better man, but for whatever reason, Barbossa felt compelled to take pity on the man. Jack had been to The Locker, it was true. And that in and of itself was enough to drive a man to madness… But he had not spent years cursed in an undead state like he and the original crew of the Pearl had. That was something entirely different and drew forth memories of a time which Barbossa did not recall with any fondness. He stepped forward, his own bejeweled peg leg dragging slightly as he walked–another area in which he could all too easily empathize with the man propping himself up against the mast.
“Ye’re always starvin’ but food turns tah ash in your mouth. Always dyin’ of thirst, yet nothin’ ever quenches it. Ye cannot feel–not the sun or the rain on yer face nor the softness of a woman’s touch nor the fiery sting of cold steel slicin’ yer skin. Yer heart no longer beats, yet somehow ye’re still alive. Everything that once had meanin’ is empty and hollow. Ye’re a dead man walkin’.”
Salazar bore a pained expression. For a moment, he could not find his voice. Then…
“How…?” he croaked.
“Yer not the only man what has been cursed in such a manner and lived to tell the tale. Or rather…come back from the dead to tell it.”
At this, Carina gave a start. Realizing that the undead were real was one thing. Realizing that her long-lost father (who also happened to be a pirate captain) had once been among them was quite another. But that, she supposed, was a story for another day. She had so many questions already. Life with her father, it seemed, would be much more complicated than she had anticipated. Yet she could not deny a slight thrill at the thought of more adventures at his side.
“‘Twas our greed and our pride that did us in,” Barbossa continued. “Aztec gold, cursed by the pagan gods… We were warned of the consequences, but we heeded them not. 'Twas yer own pride that did ye in as well, I suspect. Nothin’ would do but tah take yer revenge on every last pirate sailin’ in the Spanish Main for the deaths of yer father and his father before him. I can’t rightly say that I blame ye for that… Ye say that we’re not worthy of bein’ called men at all, that we are loathsome creatures lower than the bilge rats and the barnacles on the hull of a ship. That may be so. I am hardly an honest man.”
He glanced briefly at Carina, looking somewhat ashamed, then returned his attention to Salazar.
“Yet ye do it in the name of honor and justice. But if it’s vengeance yer seekin’, then ye ought to at least have the decency tah call it what it is like the rest of us… There’s as much blood on yer hands as there is on ours. Perhaps more. If ye be satisfied knowin’ that, then by all means, continue yer reign as El Matador del Mar–that is, assumin’ ye make it off this ship alive. But if ye want tah keep tellin’ yerself yer better than us humble pirates, now’s the time tah prove it. Not all men make it to hell and back alive, and one thing I can tell ye, when yer given a second chance at life, ye ought not tah waste it.”
He looked back at Carina.
“Take it from someone who’s wasted too many second chances already.”
The Spaniard laughed bitterly. “You think that by sparing me you may spare yourselves of my wrath when I am free? My life was devoted to hunting down men like you–murderous thieves who take what they can and give nothing back. Without that, what am I?” He glared at Jack. “Give me a weapon, and I will fight you to the death. Or kill me now, like a man. But stop this foolish pretense! We both know what you are, Jack Sparrow!”
“Firstly,” Jack replied, “there should be a 'captain’ in there somewhere. Secondly, despite what you may think, I am neither stupid enough to give you a weapon nor cruel enough to kill an unarmed man. So it seems we are at an impasse.”
He began pacing the deck.
“You know, I once knew a man who thought like you.”
He paused to glance at Henry.
“His father was a pirate…AND a good man. Took him awhile to accept that.”
His gaze returned to Salazar.
“Truth is, the world’s not all black and white, mate, and thank goodness for that because it would be a dreadfully dull place if it was. For example…” He spread his arms wide, taking a mock bow. “I am a pirate. I admit to that. But I am not a cold-blooded killer. You, on the other hand…” He pointed at Salazar with the tip of his sword. “Well, let’s just say they don’t call you 'The Butcher’ for nothing. Now tell me, mate, which one of us is the better man?”
For a moment, Salazar was silent. Then, he looked to Henry.
“You, boy…your father is the captain of the Dutchman?”
Salazar nodded soberly. “A good man.”
“And a former pirate, I might add,” Jack interjected.
But a deadly glare from the Spanish captain quickly silenced him.
“Right,” he apologized. “Sorry. Continue.”
“He tried to come for us, once. To ferry us to the next world…to set us free from this curse, that we might be at peace.” He laughed darkly. “But there are some places too cursed for even the Dutchman to go.”
Henry nodded soberly. “I’m sorry. He would have done more if he could have, I’m sure.”
Salazar returned the gesture. Though he could not fully explain why, he had a great deal of respect for the boy. He had seen the terror in the boy’s eyes when his crew attacked the British naval ship, yet despite his fear, he did not run but looked death in the face. He was confident, yet not cocky like Jack; quiet, yet he did not hesitate to speak his mind when necessary. And there was another quality the boy had which he did not expect of one with such close ties to pirates–honor. Possessing the boy had given him a glance into the heart and soul of the young man before him, their consciousness merging until one man’s thoughts and emotions were barely distinguishable from the other. He had seen Jack, then, through the boy’s eyes…and he had seen the monster he had become–internally as well as externally, his humanity all but gone. It had been deeply disturbing. Recalling the boy’s thoughts now, he remembered something which he hadn’t taken notice of before, a troubled frown forming on his lips. His eyes shifted tentatively to Jack, and for a moment, he merely held his gaze, causing the pirate to squirm uncomfortably.
“While I was controlling the boy’s mind,” he began, “I saw something…not a memory–at least, not a memory of his… More like a dream…like visions of a legend…a story he had been told as a child…. His father was still a mortal then…. He was dying. You had the heart of Davy Jones in your hand, ready to become the next captain of that otherworldly ship that you yourself might gain immortality…. But you chose to save him instead…. Is this true?”
“Well, now, 'saved’ is a rather strong word, given that becoming the captain of said ship comes with its own curses which is how we ended up in this bloody mess to begin with, searching for the trident….”
Salazar scowled impatiently.
“But technically speaking, yes.”
“I see…” The Spaniard looked to Henry. “You trust this man? This…this pirate?”
Henry slowly lifted his eyes to Jack, then smiled. “With my life, sir.”
“Yes?” Barbossa, Jack, and Salazar answered simultaneously.
Realizing the need for clarification, Henry started again. “Er…that is…Captain Salazar… If I may ask… While I was subject to your power, I endured a nightmare like nothing I had ever experienced before. I felt…so cold, so isolated… It was as if I were drowning in a darkness and despair so deep that it smothered everything else–all thoughts and emotions consumed by what must have been the last thing that you felt in life…a burning, blinding rage. It was suffocating, as though I was so far removed from humanity that I had forgotten everything and everyone else in the world… My entire identity was gone, my own memories were unreachable–a distant, foggy dream. And yet…one name remained on the tip of my tongue, a name I do not know….”
“Maria,” Salazar whispered reverently.
“The Silent Mary…. It isn’t just the name of a ship, is it?” Henry asked. “Who was she?”
There was a wistful gleam in his eyes. It was the most vulnerable, the most human, he had looked since regaining his mortality.
“The most beautiful woman in all of Spain…my wife.” He smiled sadly. “She was with child when I left. She didn’t want me to go. Of course, I told her not to worry, and I promised her that that mission would be my last…. But then…I never came home.” He looked at Jack. “That is why I was so angry.” He sighed. “I do not know what became of them. She has probably long forgotten about me. If she is even still alive…I doubt she or the child would want to see me now. They would not believe my story…and if they did, they would be repulsed by what I became. I have nothing now. Nothing. No crew at sea, no one waiting at home….” He eyed Jack’s sword almost pleadingly. “What is left but to fight one last fight and at least die with a little honor? Perhaps this time, I will have peace.”
“You do your family a great disservice, sir.” This time, it was Carina who spoke. “If she loved you as much as you love her, then I am certain she never gave up hope. Nor did her child.”
“Oh? How do you know that?”
She was addressing Salazar, but her eyes were on Barbossa, bright with unshed tears.
“The same way that I knew someday, somehow, I would find my father…. And if you truly care about them, who you are…or who you were…none of that will matter when they finally see you.”
“Ah, but you forget… I have neither ship nor crew–”
“We’ll help you find them,” Henry blurted.
“We will?” asked Jack.
“Aye,” Barbossa slapped Jack on the back. “We will.”
“Wait a moment! Wait a moment!” Jack waved his hands. He gestured to Barbossa. “You’re a pirate.” He pointed to Salazar. “He’s a pirate hunter. You want to help him, yet he wants to kill us. DID I BLOODY MISS SOMETHING?!?”
“Well, seein’ as we are aboard MY ship, I don’t see why it should concern ye, Jack,” Barbossa grinned.
“I believe you mean MY ship,” Jack corrected him. “You may have your Queen Anne’s Revenge, but the Pearl is mine. I saved her from Blackbeard’s stash of shrunken ships and protected her with me life.”
“Aye, but I’m the one who freed her for ye. Mister Gibbs,” he addressed the first mate.
“Set a course fer Spain. We’ve a long journey ahead of us, so we’d best be gettin’ started.”
Gibbs, who had long grown used to the two captains bickering over the ownership of the Pearl, nodded, assuming they would eventually come to some sort of agreement, as they always did.
“Oh, and Gibbs?” Barbossa stopped him. “Don’t fly the colors.”
“Do I get any say in this at all?” Jack protested.
Barbossa, Carina, and Henry answered in unison. “No!”
Jack sighed. “Alright… Well, then…” He offered Salazar his hand. “I suppose we have a truce?”
Salazar hesitated, then grudgingly accepted the offer, bracing himself against the mast as he pulled himself up to his full height.
“Truce.” Salazar leaned in so his mouth was just above Jack’s ear. “But know this, Sparrow… If I happen to end up on the seas again, if you ever attack a Spanish ship….”
“I know, I know…. You’ll hunt me down and destroy me.” He grinned. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Captain.”
He turned to leave but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
Jack looked back at the man who had spent a lifetime of hating men like him and saw the faintest gleam of something that almost resembled respect.
Jack nodded. As he walked away, he breathed a sigh of relief, striding up beside Barbossa. “Hector, you owe me one for this,” he grumbled.
Barbossa, who had uncorked a bottle of rum, took a large swig and offered a sip to Jack, who graciously accepted.
“Go easy on it, Jack. We’ve naught but a few barrels left, and as we be sailin’ away from the Caribbean, it may be awhile before we get the chance to restock.”
Jack sighed again and shook his head, looking sadly at the bottle. “Why is the bloody rum always gone?”
“I’ve found time can heal most anything and you just might find who you’re supposed to be” @taylorswift I want to write an open letter to you, because these past 4 years of my life were the ones you impacted most. Looking back on this moment from earlier (6/10/17) , I feel so proud of myself, so humbled, so thankful. My four years of high school were ones that shaped and molded me into the individual I am today. And in those four years I learned many valuable lessons, ones that I will hold on to forever. But there’s one in particular that I want to thank YOU for teaching me. And that is to realize your worth and ask for it…
My early years of high school were quite a negative experience to say the least. I was bullied profusely. Applesauce poured in my hair, pieces of food dropped in my hair and dried up when I didn’t notice, cornered in the halls and talked down to nothing. Because of this bullying I fell into and endless pit of depression, lost my love for life, and my grades suffered because of it. My once bright light in my heart had been dimmed and burnt out. I heard words said by these people so often that I eventually began to believe them. And though these terrible words impacted me greatly, I heard words that impacted me even more-ones that you said. The night of 9/13/15 was where you gave a speech in which I’ll never forget. One that inspired me to reach for my full potential, realize that I am worthwhile and important, and that I deserved better. The advice you gave that night is truly 100% what gave me the motivation to transfer schools in the middle of my junior year. I owe that ALL to you.
I made new friends, I took college level classes, I graduated with straight A’s, I was commended for my academic success and rewarded with scholarship money, I passed my CNA nursing exams, I picked myself up and got on anti-depressants, and slowly started finding that passion for life I once obtained. But most importantly I learned that giving myself the time to pick myself back healed me, and I found who I was supposed to be- who I am NOW and what I’ve planned for my future.
I didn’t know it at fifteen.
I thank you for advice that changed my life for the better
“I am protected from alcohol, its effects, and from the ones who consume it.”
My first sigil, quite proud of it. My school is hosting an event, and people are gonna get drunk, like … A lot. And as I don’t drink alcohol myself, I thought about putting this on my door, to keep people from banging at it while too drunk to understand what they are doing.
Hidden Behind Straightened Hair | The fives times Dan’s hair was used as
a joke to hide his insecurity about his sexuality, and the one time it wasn’t.|
Phan | PG-13 | Homophobia, Bi-Erasure, 2012 Scenario’s, Curly hair/Straight
jokes | 5,304 Words
Massive thank you to @ineverhadmyinternetphase for quite literally
letting me force her to read over my shoulder the entire time I worked on this,
and her endless support of both my take on 2012 events, and bi-erasure.
Honestly guys, this is the thing I am currently the most proud of ever having written, so please let me know what you think <3 I’m literally shaking as I post this.
[ 19/06/17 • 12:24 am ]
so here’s what i’ve done so far HAHAHA i guess i’m quite proud that i’ve at least started revision :) i haven’t written so many words since fOREVER and i took so long to do one page of notes :’) oh well now that i’ve started let’s hope that this mood continues!!!
Characters: Reader (Special Agent Y/N Singer), Sam Winchester, Special Agent Castiel Novak, Dean Winchester,
Pairing: AU Dean x Reader (eventually)
Warnings: Dean is an ass,talk of murder, all the usual for this series.
Word Count: 2900ish (a bit short I am sorry!)
A/N: This is a serial killer AU of sorts. Not the typical kind, but it has all the deaths and violence this kinda AU bring with it. It was sorta inspired by Criminal Minds and that is why my agents are profilers.
This series will have deaths, violence, love, heartwarming moments and everything in between. I am hereby warning you for yet another rollercoaster ride led by me ;)
You were angry. You weren’t sure why, but you were furious even as you sat in the small bar with your partner and your college friend. You pretended to know why you were fuming. You pretended it was because Dean had left you in the middle of nowhere on your own. You pretended it was because he had abandoned the case, you so desperately had hoped he would help you and Cas crack wide open.
He had been helpful just like you knew he would be. He had figured the line of projection faster than any of the FBI’s technicians had. Who had all been wrong at that too. No evidence had been found in the place they had suspected the bullet had originated from, but there were clear marks after the footing for the gun as well as empty gun casings in both places Dean had pointed you too. He had been right and he had just walked away. How could he just walk away from a gift like that?
Summary: Raised as one of Hydra’s experiments, the reader has the abilities of a shapeshifter. Once rescued by the Avengers, the reader lives and grows up among them. However, as the events of Civil War begin to unfold, Y/N becomes ill. She is left under Tony’s care but Tony has recruited a new member – how will this affect the reader and the rest of the Avengers, and where will Y/N end up?
Author’s note: I am so, so, so sorry for the really long wait guys. I’ve had a ton of school stuff to do, and my GCSEs (HUGE, life-determining exams) started last Thursday, so I am a teensy bit panicked. But I’ve been working on this for so long now, and I just couldn’t leave you guys in the dark for much longer! This part is a teeny bit dark, but I’m quite proud of it! Next part will be the last chapter of Shifter, so enjoy!
Warnings: Short description of experimentation/torture, mention of blood, angst.
Steve is panicked and terrified. The rest of the team can tell, as they watch him sitting alone in the corner, his head hung low as he wrings his hands. It’s been three days since you were taken. Peter is restless, popping into the science lab to check for updates, flying around the city like crazy as he tries to distract himself. Tony isn’t eating – he’s locked himself in his lab, furiously running through CCTV cameras and any sort of tracking devices he could use to find you. Clint and Natasha have patrolled the streets of New York over a dozen times – Nat can tell that Clint is blaming himself, as every time they return empty handed he punches something and heads to the range to practice. Bruce is trying to keep the team alive – running around with food and drink to make people eat, checking up on Peter every so often, trying to stop Clint from breaking his knuckles.
I saw the play on 5/6 in Umeda Theater Drama City, and it happened to be a very memorable show full of firsts: first solo lead for Miyaruri, first solo heroine for Umi, first show as a member of Tsukigumi for Reiko, and first live zuka small theater show for me. :’D It was also my first time seeing a live show by a troupe other than yuki or hoshi (i have my favourites and also the luck for my trips to coincide specifically with my favourites, apparently). I wasn’t planning on seeing it at first, but I am very glad I managed to. Plot summary for Act 1 (to not spoil it completely since the show is getting a dvd release) and my thoughts under the cut:
A piece I wrote quite some time ago but has only ever been posted on AO3. I am not sure why I love this one so much. It’s not my best writing or my most imaginative work but for some reason I am really proud of it so thought I would share it here too. :-)
Jamie crouched beside the bed and traced his finger along the fiery tendril of hair spread across the pillow nearest him.
The child was sound asleep and he moved carefully so as not to disturb them. He looked around the bed but could not tell by the toys and books whether the child was male or female. There were no clothes laid out and he didn’t dare try opening the drawers beside the bed. The child whimpered in its sleep and then cried out, a single wail that pierced the quiet of the house. Blue eyes fluttered open and fixed on Jamie’s own identical eyes.
“Aye a leannan, it’s me.” Jamie nodded, trailing his finger across the curve of his bairns cheek. The child shivered and he withdrew his hand at the same moment as he heard a door open down the hall. Jamie pressed himself into the shadows, raising a finger to his lips. The bedroom door creaked open and flooded the room with light, brighter and more insistent than any candle Jamie had ever seen.
“Bree?” A man’s voice called softly. Jamie held his breathe as the man stepped into the room. His hair was short and he wore a strange loose fitting shirt and trousers in the same blue striped fabric but there was no mistaking his face. Randall. Jamie tensed in his crouch and his hand silently moved across his hip to his dirk. The child sat up in bed and blinked.
Jamie drew the blade and braced himself; ready to attack.
“Yes sweetheart, I’m here. What are you doing awake?” Randall asked and Jamie hesitated. His voice was different, gentler and a little deeper. Randall crossed the room and sat on the bed beside Jamie’s child, gently smoothing the hair back from … her face? Jamie thought now that she must be a girl. His daughter then. Claire’s daughter. Jamie’s heart hammered in his chest and he was sure it was loud enough that they could hear it but neither of them looked towards him. He felt like an intruder but couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him.
“The Big Man was here again Daddy.” The little girl said, her voice thick with sleep, kneeling on the bed as she wrapped her arms around Randall’s neck. Jamie bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. Had he been here before? He didn’t remember this place but surely he would not forget his wee lass?
“Ah the Big Man.” Randall smiled and kissed the girls temple. Jamie longed with every fibre of his being to snatch the child from his arms and cradle her himself, to be the only man that kissed her head and the only one she reached for when she woke in the night. His hands were shaking but he forced himself to remain still.
“He always looks so sad.” She continued and Randall smiled down at her
“Ah well I am sure seeing you made him feel better, Bree.” He crooned, laying Bree gently down in the bed and pulling the blanket over her.
“She’s at the hospital. She’ll be home in the morning. Now close your eyes and get some sleep.”
The little girl yawned and obediently closed her eyes. Randall sat with her until her breathing turned heavy and then stood and faced the darkest corner of the room where Jamie crouched, his eyes fixed on a spot where Jamie’s face may have been if he was standing.
“I don’t know if you’re still here but if you are I want you to know that they are both safe and well. Now bugger off.”
He murmured; his voice deliberately low to ensure Bree was not disturbed. Jamie stood, slowly uncurling himself, straightening to his full height until he locked eyes with Randall.
The smaller man’s eyes flew open and then narrowed into a squint, not believing what he was seeing. The colour gradually drained from his face but neither man moved nor blinked.
Randall murmured finally. The light from the door way was getting brighter as Jamie stared at Frank and a sound like horses hooves hitting frozen earth filled the room but it seemed that Jamie was the only one to hear them. Jamie turned to look at his little daughter, whose name he now knew was Bree and her face was the last thing he saw before the light filled his eyes.
“Beidh mé cuimhneamh tú!” Jamie cried out as her face diappeared into the light. *I will remember you* * “MILORD! Wake up! The English, please ye must hide!” Jamie’s entire body jerked and he blinked up at Fergus. “What …?” “Now Milord, there is no time!”
Fergus shook Jamie’s shoulder and disappeared from view. Jamie sat up and desperately tried to piece together the fractured fragments of his dream. There had been a child … Randall …
“Bree?” Jamie mumbled, staggering to his feet as Fergus appeared in the doorway, his expression frantic.
“Brie? Milord, I will get you whatever cheese your heart desires, just please, for now … MOVE!”
The boy whispered, shoving Jamie bodily in the direction of the ladder he had placed beneath the attic. Jamie’s awareness finally shifted to his present situation and he scaled the ladder without another word, deftly dragging the ladder up behind him as heavy boots pounded the stairs.
Alone in the dark Jamie desperately tried to piece together the dream he had been having but nothing made any sense. Had he been rescuing a child from Randall? Perhaps that was it. Maybe he was dreaming of that night in Paris with Fergus. Jamie rested his head in his hands. He had slept so heavily that he had not heard the English arrive but he did not feel rested at all.
* What he could not know, what he would never know, was that two hundred years in the future, a historian was sat at his desk with a glass of whiskey clutched between his trembling hands and was making up his mind to begin a search through time for a man he had previously refused to believe existed.
Hey Wil, I'm checking back into to let you know I've seen lots improvement in the medication change! I also have cut a toxic person out of my life and am returning my home to a peaceful sanctuary (as it should be!) January and February were rough, but I'm looking forward to better months to come! Just gotta take it one day at a time. (I also quit smoking cigarettes! So I'm really proud of myself!)
I am so proud of you!! Congratulations! Thank you for checking back in with me, and let me know how you’re doing in a few weeks!