sleeping away the century

Why do I dislike Tales of Zestiria the X?

Recently I’ve been asked one question numerous times: “Why do you think the anime is shit? You only hate it because it doesn’t focus on SorMik, right?”

Now guys, I think it’s vital for me to answer this. Because let’s face it, we will never see face to face if we don’t discuss the matter. And look, here I am, typing this out because I feel this is important. So if you’re curious and want to understand why a lot of us dislike the anime then please bear with me because this will be long (6 pages in Word, 6!)

To make this a little bit easier for me, I’ll assume that you haven’t played the game or watched its walkthrough yet and that you like the anime. But of course if you did either of them it’s good, bc at least you’ll know what I am talking about.

And so, I shall do a character analysis in this post, comparing the game and anime selves to each other while I name some other issues as well. I won’t list all the inconsistency and plot holes the anime has for I’d be here even after my death.

I’m going to try to make you guys understand that while the SorMik fandom is not happy, there are more pressing issues with the anime than that.

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passengers (2820)

one week before hyperion reaches habitat 7, the pathfinder team is brought out of cryogenic stasis. their first obstacle: shouldering the weight of what they’ve left behind.

scott ryder/liam kosta. 5886 words, sfw, falling in love over improper use of the tempest group chat. written for fun 15 days before andromeda’s launch so everything is Probably Very Wrong

DISCLAIMER: this fic is not based explicitly on the andromeda gameplay that’s been revealed so far, but there are still a few canon bits hidden here and there. if you don’t want to read spoilers then please don’t read.

The first thing Liam Kosta thinks after six-hundred years of cryogenic stasis is: Am I awake?

And then, when it’s apparent that he is: We made it, right? Did we make it?

And after that he isn’t thinking much of anything but thank God, thank God– are the others–? Oh my God, thank God, because no amount of experience in the field could really prepare anybody for something like this, and they’d known that going in.

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me, an immortal wench in pre-colonial ireland: i must conserve my power and sleep away the centuries. i shall store my robes in this unassuming bog until i awaken

some asshole 20th century scientist: *digs up my shit and puts it in a museum*

me: dude what the fuck

There’s going to be a wedding. Everyone is invited. Tell your friends.

bellegolds  asked:

If you're still taking prompts, Belle has narcolepsy in the Dark Castle (just like it seems she does on the show currently hahahaha), and Rumple keeps trying to cure it but he figures out that the only way she'll have a restful night's sleep and not fall asleep during the day is if they sleep together.

Part I of my Seven Days of Rumbelle Fic Celebration! The following chapters will each be posted in the next few days, so stay tuned! Also on AO3.

The Hands-On Approach

It was Belle’s third month in the Dark Castle when Rumplestiltskin began to notice something rather odd about his new caretaker.

He had kept to himself for the most part when she first arrived. But after only a short time, he had found himself feeling comfortable enough in her presence to allow her to dust the Great Hall while he spun and to take meals with him. They even drank their tea together most days.

Most recently, Belle had been bringing her book down and reading in front of the fireplace while he spun late into the night. She was always up bright and early the next day and Rumplestiltskin was beginning to wonder at how little she seemed to sleep. As the Dark One, he rarely needed more than a few hours. Even then, he wasn’t sure that he really needed to sleep. But some habits were hard to shake, even after three hundred years.

So when Rumple wandered into the library mid-morning and saw Belle curled up asleep in a chair, he wasn’t surprised.

He was a little more surprised when he found her asleep at the kitchen table that afternoon, having clearly nodded off while kneading dough, bits of flour smudging her sleeping face.

When he checked up on her and found her asleep for the third time later that day, face down in the clean laundry she had been folding, Rumple became more than a bit concerned.

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