![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
incomplete_ruler
queenslayerbee
essexcats
fitiaObviously Vegeta takes pride in the fact that he's a saiyan, and in the fact that the saiyans were destroyed because Freeza feared something in them, but there's nothing especially... communal about it. It's as if his relationship to his race is divorced from an actual relationship to his race: he doesn't grieve them, he was completely fine with letting Raditz die and killing Nappa off himself, there's no recognizable sympathetic attachment in Vegeta's relationship to the saiyans, and yet he brings it up constantly, he clearly has a strong relationship to them that he makes it his entire identity, and convinces Goku that Freeza should be killed by a saiyan as he dies.
The explanation the manga gives for why Vegeta's really upset over Freeza is that it's a matter of pride, and that he hated having to be used his entire life. He's clearly of the belief that the saiyans should be the strongest in the universe, and as someone at the top of their defunct hierarchy, that he should be their representative. Which is interesting to think about on the psychological level: the saiyans as a representation of superiority and strength is ingrained in him, regardless of their actual position in the universe or in Freeza's empire of space real estate, and he identifies so strongly with the superior position he was born into that he's insanely possessive over the saiyan identity itself.Freeza: Awfully noble, aren't you...? Are you saying the saiyans never killed an innocent?
Goku: They died because of it.(Chapter 124)
queenslayerbeeTitle: ace in the hole.
Fandom: The Pitt.
Character/Pairing: Trinity Santos/Victoria Javadi.
Summary: Santos has a proposition. Javadi is itching for a fight.
Word count: 200.
incomplete_ruler
sewagelag00n
fitia queenslayerbeeTitle: carnal idolatry.
Fandom: Terminator / The Terminator (1984)
Character/Pairing: Kyle Reese/Sarah Connor.
Summary: Kyle would think he must be dreaming —except for how he's never felt so present in his body, so keenly aware of the nerve endings in each of his fingertips. So exultant, and at once, fearful.
Word count: 300.
queenslayerbeeTitle: hating me through death and after.
Fandom: Carmilla (J. Sheridan Le Fanu's novella).
Character/Pairing: Carmilla/Laura.
Summary: Much as she might try fighting it, Carmilla's absence in the aftermath of her death impregnates Laura's life.
Word count: 900.
As it did every so often, Laura's mind drifted towards poor, ill-fated Bertha.
Under the harsh light of day, a crushing sun ray's glare, she thought of a lost would-be companion, a friend she almost met, a kindred soul she had longed to embrace.
In the refuge of the night, sitting restless by the window, not quite yearning for the moonlit wilderness —still reluctant to embrace the open air—, Laura's thoughts took an impermissible turn.
She thought of Bertha with Carmilla —Millarca, Mircalla, Countess; endless mingled and mangled names for a perpetual masquerade. Laura pictured them together with an imagination ever pushing against the limits of her knowledge and rapidly decaying naïveté.
Had Bertha's infatuation mirrored Laura's own innocence, a trait she shared by all accounts? Or perhaps was the General living under delusions, stubbornly clinging to a half-imagined angelic pretense?
In Laura's imaginings, Bertha looked much like herself; she was a daring, forthright, openhearted reflection of Laura's fumbling ignorance and hesitant demeanor. The Bertha she constructed in her head returned Carmilla's fanciful outbursts of improper longing and affection with declarations of her own. She met touch with touch, laugh with laugh, gaze with gaze; desperation matching wildness.
That Bertha didn't make Carmilla wait until she fell asleep: she sneaked out of her own room under the General's heedless nose and penetrated Carmilla's domains. She initiated, she brought her new friend pleasure with shameless joy and childish eagerness.
Their encounter was one of appetite meeting appetite. Carmilla didn't have to coax her prey, the most seductive tools in her arsenal rendered redundant. Theirs wasn't a game of cat and mouse —she had become a carnivorous plant, motionless and static as the fly ever so willingly plunged into her trap.
Perchance, that's why Carmilla grew bored of her with such swiftness.
It was in some of those nights, spread in between longer periods of abnegation forced by the humilliation brought by her debasement —when exhaustion wore her down just enough to stumble towards the bed, under the welcome weight of the sheets— that Laura discarded Bertha, her shield, and thought only of Carmilla.
Half-dozing, she pictured them lying together under the tree. They were protected by its shadow, the sounds of nature all around them drowning their words, Madame Perrodon and Mademoiselle De Lafontaine just far enough, but present. She remembered Carmilla's wandering hands, the careless patterns they often drew, and awarded them more direction. The layers of Laura's dress hid them from the absent-minded eyes of their chaperones; when they touched Laura's bare skin they did it with intent, with purpose. They brought her warmth —at firs tepid and sluggish, then in ardent escalation; once localized, then all over, never quite reaching satisfaction. All through it, Carmilla's head rested in Laura's shoulder, face hidden in her neck, playacting exhaustion as only lips and tongue, never teeth, touched Laura's skin.
The teeth were for their nights. The bite marks didn't remain in her breast, but travelled lower, much lower. Eventually, Carmilla would drink her in dry, hands and lips and tongue and teeth; at first Laura would press the pillow down to her face to drown the sounds escaping her mouth; then she would grow too languid, too empty, for discretion to remain a matter of concern.
Laura's skin would transform. Pale, and cold. Still, as a statue. Her corpse would be found in the morning; a disrobed, exquisite vision, hard and stiff where once it had been frail and malleable, pliant. Laura's blood would stain the sheets red, a crimson flower adorning the mount between her legs —her stolen maidenhead.
The punishment for those nights, as she woke up soaked in shame, still laid in bed, was to force herself to think of the aftermath.
Laura told —reminded— herself that she was merely one more young, foolish girl in a long line of reticent victims. She stomped the notion that their distant consanguinity might've been as important to Carmilla as she pretended, and she insisted on imagining what would occur to the next companion.
Sometimes that girl took Laura's shape, but she was quick to suffocate those daydreams. For a while, she appropriated the likeness of a girl she met in a rare outing to the market, plump, bright-eyed, on the young side.
More recently, she pictured the new kitchen aide, with her fiery red hair, her strong arms, the unrefined manners and the bold, nonchalant stare she had for Laura.
Perhaps Carmilla would've been invited to stay to mourn her friend, remaining in the house long enough to meet her, to become enamoured by the shade of her wild mane, the freckles in her sun-kissed skin. Perhaps whatever lurked between her stoic conduct would've enticed Carmilla to seek a true companion, where she had discarded Laura, but it was doubtful.
Highborn, like Laura herself, Carmilla wouldn't need bother with pretenses, with tricks, with glamour. They could order a girl such as her to come to any room at night, to disrobe; to open herself to a predator's embrace.
Unwilling as she might be, resigned, she would see no choice but to capitulate to one of her betters. And she oughtn't be unwilling for long, pleasure impelled onto her in the form of a caress, a shove, a bite.
She would succumb to it, hopeless and wretched, tears crowding the corners of her eyes —tears that Laura would kiss away.
sewagelag00n
lumemiruuuuuuuuuuu
queenslayerbee
This review might contain very mild spoilers.
-
It’s been a pleasure to follow this series during the last few years, from its first installment, its sequel, its prequel, its additional short stories, and now its more than worthy conclusion (at least, for now).
And the Age of Summer Will Rise gave me everything I could’ve dared to ask of this series. It followed the threads the author had so carefully weaved from the start, allowing for an ending that feels earned, bittersweet yet full of possibility.
The doomed romance between the two leads, Laila and Darius, our star princess and the monstrous king she fell irremediably in love with, was always a highlight of the series, but it’s in this book where it all pays off in a masterfully singular way that stands in defiance of more typical approaches in the genre. I thought the decay of their relationship and the toll it took on Laila was done with the utmost skill and empathy; following our heroine’s emotional roller-coaster of a journey was harrowing and ultimately rewarding, like a balm for every other time I’ve seen a female character I love having her arc discarded in favour of a contrived, effortless resolution.
Another aspect that always stood out in TEOTE and that was not at all lost was its female characters, both due to their quantity and extensive variety, and due to their significance and their reach in the narrative. They’re important players, each in their own way and to their own extent, with gravitas and with the power to shape the story, and no mere ornaments moved through it at convenience. I must make a especial mention here to Sabina, a character whose journey in the last two books has left me aching, but extremely gratified.
The author, as usual, ties these and other elements together with a beautiful lush prose, an admirable eye for detail, and a talent to entice all five senses with her description, rich with symbolism yet without ever losing sight of the plot and utilising her style to its full effect. All enhanced by the beautiful cover and interior art by Eeva Nikunen.
I encourage anyone with a love for high fantasy stories with intricate world building and complex relationships of all kinds, as well as with a craving similar to my own for female characters written with nuance, empathy, respect and courage, to pick up the first book of the trilogy (with a review that you can see here).
This is a series that gave me so much I’d been missing in other fantasy worlds, and I know I’ll still revisit years after this. Just as I look forward to seeing what Camilla Andrew dazzles us next with.
glowingfishtherealtrashsewagelag00n
queenslayerbeeTitle: true thirst.
Fandom: Bridgerton.
Character/Pairing: Eloise Bridgerton (x academia OTP).
Summary: written for the prompt "Bridgerton, Eloise, sneaking off to science and philosophy lectures" in the Three Sentence Ficathon.
Word count: 200.
therealtrashincomplete_ruler - Français | The Friday Five pour le 27 Février 2026queenslayerbee - Fanfic Master Listessexcats - this endlessly harrowing 2nd dimension and to live in between worldsfitia - I've connected the dots...?queenslayerbee - FANFIC: ace in the hole (The Pitt)incomplete_ruler - [MUSIC LOG] Song of the day: Haru Haru - CHANMINA cover (Original: BIGBANG)sewagelag00n - 2/26/2026 NYT games scoresfitia - [Insert "It's over 9000" joke here]queenslayerbee - FANFIC: carnal idolatry (Terminator)therealtrash - YouTube and its Trends...fitia - (no subject)queenslayerbee - FANFIC: hating me through death and after (Carmilla - J. Sheridan Le Fanu)sewagelag00n - 2/23/2026 NYT games scoreslumemiruuuuuuuuuuu - soul cleansingqueenslayerbee - BOOK REVIEW: And the Age of Summer Will Riseglowingfish - Whoosh!therealtrash - The unsettling art of not beingsewagelag00n - 2/22/2026 NYT games scoresqueenslayerbee - FANFIC: true thirst (Bridgerton)therealtrash - Heyyyyyyy......ninetydegrees
