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marketfreshfics · 3 months

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Love is a... | Sebastian x MC

Header image (Sebastian): @starrysallow ✦ 5,439 words ✦ NSFW content (MDNI) ✦ unnamed female MC (no use of y/n), estranged friends to lovers, mild physical confrontation, some angst, oral, masturbation, p in v, tw: choking ✦ Inspired by "Love is A..." - PVRIS ✦ Read it below the cut or on AO3

Events following catastrophe were called fallout for a reason. Oftentimes it wasn’t the disaster itself, but the particles of pain that amassed the body counts, thrown to the heavens and scattered. What goes up, must always come down.

After killing Solomon and being pardoned outside of a court of magical law, based on friendship and honesty at the decision of his closest two friends, Sebastian was never the same. He stopped regular class attendance, prioritized unhealthy friendships, and frequented the restricted section even more.

She worried, constantly, but each attempt to reconnect and rekindle had been dodged and ignored. Her poor owl probably thought her a right lunatic with the amount of return post that accumulated next to her bedside.

It was as if he breathed in strands of that wretched Killing Curse, and his former self was another casualty of that day.

Distance was the only solution, and weeks bled to months, then years. Hostilities were built, grudges cemented, and relationships wedged. A lifelong friendship built on mutual trust, obliterated by all counts without salvage.

It hurt her heart, to say the least. Even Ominis insisted on prioritizing Sebastian’s company, solely out of self-flagellating guilt in believing he could have, somehow, prevented all of this. Now, he felt like it was the best means of maintaining Sebastian’s composure, of averting further tragedy. Eventually, the infrequent study sessions and conversations in the Slytherin common room became a thing of the past. The Undercroft’s clockface locking mechanism collected cobwebs, of time lost and friendships standing still.

She withdrew; the end of her seventh year approached and she was consumed by the quiet, by research, by exams. By any and all distractions that held her focus long enough to neglect her feelings.

Until one sleepless evening, as she passed the time in the Slytherin common room, tracing shapes in the condensation on the windows looking out into the Black Lake. The sound of footfalls and deep snickers bit her focus and induced an automatic eye-roll, the tells of men being up to no good. She turned her back to the stairwell, opting out of asking what they were up to at one-thirty in the morning.

Nothing great from the sounds of it. The group halted at the bottom of the stairs, whispered amongst themselves, and let out hushed sounds of approval. And then, the last voice she wanted to hear in the middle of the night beckoned her attention.

“Hello.”

Fucks sake, she thought, hearing Sebastian’s unfortunately familiar tone. His cronies chuckled, and worry started to spread uncomfortably in her chest.

“Leave her be, Sebastian.”

Relief cooled her blood as Ominis chided his best friend. Nothing wary would occur if he was in their company, that was certain; the heir of Slytherin had a quiet but firm reputation that fellow housemates were keen to avoid fucking around near. She turned, and swallowed hard.

Sebastian was a ghost of his former self, having filled out the straight-up-and-down form of his early teenage years. His black button-down could have used a proper resizing, taut at the biceps, the slightest hint of his undershirt peeking through the first buttonhole. Had they maintained a proper friendship still, she might have found him rather fetching.

But that was off the table entirely, their friendship long past expiration, the unanswered letters like an obituary in itself.

Sebastian crossed the central chamber of the common room, walking with the subtle saunter of liquid courage and bad influence, smirking with a glassy haze in his eyes.

He stood far too close to her. “I said, hello.” Terse, unyielding. The firewhisky on his breath branded her cheeks, and at this proximity, she was painfully aware of how much taller than her he’d grown. His little band of brothers hung back much to her relief; Ominis stood between them and the tower of darkness, the only one of them with some decorum (and sobriety)

“What do you want?” She muttered, fists balled at her sides to hide their tremble.

Sebastian feigned a hurt expression but it immediately dissolved, replaced with a terrible implication in his grin. “You.”

His audience chortled, save for Ominis, who seemed to be carefully attuned to whatever Sebastian was about to say next.

She ignored his forward attempt, cursing herself inwardly for how excited it made her feel. “What happened to you?” She wasn't looking for an answer, at least not immediately. She would have preferred he give it some thought, then approach her the next morning with an explanation (and, perhaps, an apology). “What’s wrong with you? Ever since you-”

Chagrined by her prying question, he reacted abruptly, grabbing her by the throat and pushing her back hard against the window.

His friends seemed perturbed by the action, immediately noping out of any involvement and backing out of the room for what they believed was yet to come. Ominis however took a step towards Sebastian, his wand raised, pulsing red. “Release her, Sebastian.” There was an exercised firmness in his voice as if he’d done this before. She wasn't the least bit surprised.

What was surprising, however, was her arousal. For his hand to be large enough to cup her throat just right, she thought it unfair. His eyes commanded her gaze, nostrils flared and breath hissed over snarled lips. His words bore grit, and punctuation pronounced. “Watch. your. mouth.”

It was no suggestion, about as much room for argument as was left in her airways for oxygen to travel to and from; next to none. Her jugular pounded against the web of his thumb, and his eyelids fluttered, pupils contracting in the earth of his eyes.

He knew. He bloody well knew how she was reacting, he had to. It shredded her innocence then, flayed it on the rack and flung her into a pit that the bastard dug himself.

Sebastian’s lip twitched, the corner tugging upwards into a smirk. Fuck him, she thought before speaking her mind, an emphatically sharp remark cutting a web of spit that landed on his chin. It only broadened his grin, as he wiped it away with his middle finger before swiping it with his tongue.

Her sympathies were with Ominis who had to endure this display of power and obstinate threats. “You’re reprehensible, Sebastian!” he warned as a firm hand clapped his shoulder. “Leave her be. She’s gone through enough already without your mistreatments.”

But she didn't want him to leave her be. She wanted him to mistreat her even more, and leave nothing left.

Mercy was given as Sebastian released her, wringing his hand. He narrowed his eyes as she ran off towards the spiral staircase, leaving before Ominis could provide consolation. Only once she was safely out of eye and earshot did she suck in a breath. She winced, a sting of soreness at her swallow, coughing to clear her stuck esophagus.

But that wasn’t what she fixated on. Instead of fear, she felt curiosity. Instead of warnings heeded, she draped his red flags over her shoulders like expensive silks.

Deceived into tasting forbidden fruit by a fucking snake. She could have laughed if she weren’t so fixated on the abject deploracy of it all. Every detail was ingrained in memory, down to the searing heat exhaled from his nostrils, fanning her décolletage, his inferno blazing.

And still, tears sprung to her eyes as she ran to the only spot she considered would provide some quiet reprieve…

And somewhere she could moan freely without an audience.

Thankfully the greenhouse was left unlocked, most likely by a fifth-year tasked with watering the dirigible plums after dinner and forgot to lock up. She stepped into the classroom, the humidity warmer than the cold dampness of the Slytherin dungeons, and she found a quiet corner to scoot on her bottom out of sight.

Despicable as it was, her digits committed treason and slipped under the waistband of her pajamas, sinning herself, confessing to those immoralities to please with her pleas. Her eyes wrenched shut in concentration as she drew upon her new little devious spank bank, every reaction cycling on a loop as her wrist bones cracked quietly in her panties with the fervour of her ministrations. And as close as she managed to get herself, with the image of Sebastian tattooed on tight eyelids, she almost cursed out loud when the latch on the greenhouse door clicked with movement.

She wasn't alone anymore.

She might have anticipated Ominis following her in hopes of apologizing on his behalf, but she never would have expected Sebastian to be the one stepping into the greenhouse, not after what transpired minutes ago. Perhaps Ominis talked some sense and ordered him to reconcile in person.

He leaned against the door, his hands in his pockets. “I can see you,” He said quietly, gesturing to her slippers poking out of the shadows. “What are you doing over there? Please, can you come out a moment?”

“Or what?” She replied, still trying to steady her breath, the combination of running and masturbating making it draw shallow. “You going to strangle me again if I don't?”

He exhaled, and… pleaded? “Promise I won't. That… I was out of line. You didn't deserve a moment of that treatment, not ever.”

She frowned, not expecting this change of pace whatsoever. She pushed herself up to stand, quickly wiping her fingers on the inside of her t-shirt, shuffling closer to him while maintaining adequate distance. With the enchanted heat lanterns angled at the massive venomous tentacula nearby, his face was washed with a glow that gave him a false sense of innocence. Her heart ached as she looked attentively at her former best friend for more than she had in over a year. “Sebastian,” she began, crossing her arms. “Can we talk about this in the morning? You’re drunk.”

“Not anymore,” he replied. “Ominis gave me a rather sobering talk.”

“Still.”

He sighed. “Please… we’ve gone too long without hashing this out. There’s a lot I need to say, and I’m certain the same rings true for you as well, no?”

She nodded, chewing her lip. It took several heavy seconds for him to continue, weighed down by the breadth of time spent apart. “I want to start by apologizing for how I threatened you this evening. I had a few drinks, and I wasn’t thinking clearly.” Even though it sounded like he was reading from a rehearsed script, his expression was genuine. “It wasn't right to scare you that way.”

If you only knew, she thought, but she wasn’t about to give him the benefit of the doubt. She looked down and focused on the small hole in the toe of her slipper. “It’s fine,” she replied, nodding. “No. I’m alright. Thank you for checking on me.”

Truth be told, she just wanted him to wrap it up so she could rub one out already. She couldn’t think of anything but his hand on her throat, and it was giving her a fuckton of bad ideas. When she looked up again he was eyeing her curiously, and the hint of narrowness in his gaze made her bottom lip tuck between her teeth.

“What were you doing here before I arrived?”

She wondered, at that moment, if he’d spent his free time studying legilimency. Her nonchalance did not convince him. The tells were there: flushed face, rumpled pajamas, the drawstring tucked into her waistband. Still, she didn’t want him to know that she was fingerfucking herself before his surprise appearance; Merlin knows what that would do for his ego. She played it off. “Just checking the growth progress on my mallowsweet.”

“You’re still a piss poor liar.” He huffed, though a shadow of a genuine smile made an appearance as he clasped his hands in front of him. He studied her, stepping closer. “I’ll need to be honest with you now, but I only ask that you be honest with me in return.”

“You weren’t before?” She raised an eyebrow.

“What? No, yes—- I was being honest there, truly.” He was tripping over words, evidently still feeling some of the alcohol in his system. “I won’t lie to you, promise.”

After consideration, she nodded. “Okay, what is it?” I’m probably going to regret this, she thought, leaning against a crate of potting soil.

Sebastian’s expression was thoughtful, the space between his brows creased. It appeared as though he were trying to choose the proper words. “Over the past couple of years, we’ve… well, I haven’t been myself.” The halfhearted scoff from her was not lost on him, but he continued. “Ever since, you know… that, happened, I’ve experienced these disturbing feelings, impulses that make me want to do terrible things. I don't know how to describe them, but they’re not inherently good. Ominis believes I’m dealing with guilt, but it’s not so simple. It’s not that direct.”

His quiet intensity doubled down then, and he looked at her. “I’ve wanted to… to hurt you.” His voice softened as he said your name. “I’ve thought of unimaginable things, truly awful acts that made me consider my very sanity. Things that you would never deserve in a thousand years. And they aren't just passing through.” The words seemed to leave a foul taste on his tongue. “They stick around. No one knows about it, because how could I admit such a thing? Even now I’m trying to cast them out. I don't know if it’s some kind of repressed anger that you decided against turning me in, forcing me to live with the consequences of my actions without trial…”

He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m prattling. I just want you to know, this is the reason I’ve been so… distant, with you. It ate me up inside to stay away and it wasn't fair to you without an explanation, but I couldn't trust myself. Even now, or earlier I mean… I don’t know if these thoughts will go away entirely.” Shame settled into his features. “Still, I miss you. I have missed you, and I miss our friendship. I miss…”

Sebastian blinked for a moment, and before she could interject he was standing right in front of her, hands on the crate behind her. She was locked in, his strong arms a barrier from freedom, but she wasn't about to attempt escape. To do so would mean she couldn't experience him this close, this intense. He towered over her, swallowing, Adam's apple bobbing. “I miss what could have been. Please, be honest with me…” He took her hand then, dwarfing hers. It made her chest tight as he murmured, and the heart was apparent in his words. “Even knowing what I’ve shared, knowing fully well that I want to fight these feelings for you, would you ever… even want, to be friends again?”

Her mouth fell open slightly, the wind out of her sails. The divisiveness in her was tumultuous, warring between slapping him across the face and shouting profanely for the blind selfishness. True that there was deep anger in her heart, but there was also a void that ran deep, a cut that never healed. She looked up at him, let out a sigh, and wrapped her arms around his torso, her face in his chest.

Sebastian was caught off guard, his inhale caught in his windpipe, but he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her in return. He held her so tightly she winced, letting out a small groan, but she didn't shy away, hugging him with equal enthusiasm as they swayed with the shared experience of reconnecting a missing piece after far too long.

“Can you tell me when those thoughts are too much to ignore?” She asked after several seconds, looking up at him, ignoring the heartbeat that skipped attendance as a result. “I don’t want you to leave me again. That… that was the hardest thing to go through. I mean, we did everything together, and then to just, suddenly not…” She sighed. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

His brow furrowed. “Still relentlessly selfless, I see.” He smiled, and when he breathed she was relieved to find his breath no longer carried the smell of firewhisky, instead just purely him. “I swear to you, I’ll never put you in danger ever again. If I need to talk to someone or, I don't know, distract myself. I’d sooner fling myself from the astronomy tower than knowingly cause you harm.”

She nodded, but her mind was ping-ponging an idea around that made her reconsider her sanity. Rationality missed roll call and so when she looked up at Sebastian, when the rest of the world vignetted around him, the kiss happened all on its own.

And he was just as eager, holding her body close as he consumed in a heat that scalded her resolve. Those fucking hands of his knew precisely where to hold her, where to pull, an indication that he’d imagined this before into his fist under bedsheets. She moaned with a tender kind of tact, fingers laced in his hair, practically pulling him into her petite form.

He parted to catch his breath moments later, cheeks and nose ruddy with blood flush. “This is okay?” His eyes flickered about her face, honing in on any evidence of disagreement in her expression. “I promise I won’t be rough with you, I--”

“Sebastian,” She murmured, tracing his clavicle as she spoke. Time to come clean. With any luck, he wouldn't be horrified of her. “I… I liked it… when you choked me.”

Brown eyes blinked, and she could practically see the cogs in his head struggle to make a full rotation around her admission. “You… you enjoyed that? But--”

“I loved it.”

His lips parted then, and she saw a new look in his eyes. Perhaps this was what he sought to keep buried from her and yet here she was, laying in the very mound of dirt he turned up.

So much is communicated in their gaze. His expression changes, and the paradigm shifts. “Yeah?” His voice has a hint of heat, a sample of what is to come, and the way he comes to terms with this burned slowly in her belly. “You like rough stuff?”

Her face flamed. “I-I never knew… But when you…”

The thought clicked then, and he tilted his head. “…what did you say you were doing in here, again?”

“…I didn’t.”

A slow smirk of understanding spread and remained in place, even as his lips crashed into hers. He kissed her with more insistence this time, harder, more ragged breaths than taking her breath away. Sebastian leaned into it, teasing her with his words. “What a little imp you are, scurrying off to rub one out. I’m surprised you didn’t go to your dormitory, where I wouldn’t be able to find you, left to your own devices…”

She gasped as those tactile fucking hands of his settled at her hips, fisting the waistband of her pajamas so hard the woven texture and seams of the fabric left indentations on his palms. Her hands were put to good use then as well, attempting to unbutton his shirt without breaking their kiss, a feat in itself considering how little thought was in her brain regarding anything that wasn’t connected to his body. Sebastian resumed his little wordplay while she untucked his shirt from his trousers. “Someone’s eager, aren’t we?”

“Shut up,” she muttered, and he chuckled while swatting her hands away from his nearly open shirt, grabbing and hoisting her to sit on the crate. Her legs snapped open immediately and Sebastian let out the most beautiful breathy groan, leaning into her as his lips descended the column of her neck. The humidity of the greenhouse gathered a whisper of perspiration along their brows, but the heat between them was something else entirely. Finally undoing his shirt in her conquest, it fell from his shoulders and she couldn’t help but drink him in. “Sebastian, you’re…”

He seemed a touch vulnerable at that moment, but it faded lightning fast as he grabbed the hem of his undershirt and pulled it over his head.

Her brain was rendered a useless mound of matter as she ran her hands over his defined chest, her eyes darting to the enticing trail of hair that disappeared into his trousers.

“Fuck,” she breathed, and her intrigue spurred him on, fed the deviant within. His hand slid up her torso, deliberately over a braless breast, settling to hold her throat. The other, however, buried between her legs and cupped her mound from over her pajamas.

The sound she made was positively primal, and she crushed her bottom lip between her teeth as he applied pressure, rubbing his fingers in devastatingly slow circles that made her hips buck. He leaned in close to her ear as she whimpered, nipping a lobe. “That's my girl… sing for me.”

So she did, letting the moans out freely as he tightened his grip on her neck. Her back arched as his thumb pressed into the side of her throat, and the sensation made her acutely aware of her heartbeat. It throbbed in her head and her sex, her mouth agape as his dark eyes watched her reactions, and the wicked grin he gave her pronounced his excitement. “You like that?” He asked, voice hoarse and low, laden with lust. “You like how I touch you like this?”

She nodded eagerly, trying to control the friction between her legs with more measured motions, and he obliged with enough pressure that her wetness began to wick through the fabric, ample and abundant. “Merlin, you’re already so wet for me.” The way he spoke to her was nothing short of sinful, his voice reaching a lower pitch she’d never heard before. He sped up, letting her rock into his palm as he varied the pressure on her carotid. She could come just like this, pathetic and whining and without having taken any clothing off yet.

Sebastian seemed intent on making sure she did just that. He leaned down to mouth a nipple from over her thin t-shirt, pulling another beautiful sound of pleasure from her mouth. The cotton wet with his lips around her pebbled peak and it throttled her impending orgasm. Her moans ascended in pitch, and just as she came the hand on her throat loosened. Her climax rocketed through her then, echoing sharply off the glass panels of the greenhouse, and if anyone were in the immediate proximity they would surely know it wasn't the sound of a mandrake that wriggled loose from its pot. Thighs spasming and tight to his sides, she rode out her release against his hand, the soaked crotch of her pajamas goading him on.

His mouth disconnected from her, capturing her lips in an almost desperate kiss, despite the confidence in his tone. “You’re beautiful when you come for me,” Sebastian purred, and he finally pulled off her shirt, baring her chest. His quiet exhale signaled his enjoyment. “Fuck, look at you…”

“You like what you see?” She found her voice mingled with a new sense of boldness as she palmed her breasts for him, giving him a rightful show. Sebastian uttered an expletive to voice his approval and eagerly claimed her lips in a breathtaking kiss as he undid his belt.

“God, yes,” his response was airy and rough. “Look what you do to me…”

And look she did, as he untucked himself from his underwear, practically twitching with the reflex of his abs clenching, his cock so hard it could crush diamonds to dust. She bit her bottom lip as he palmed his member, a groan born deep in his chest as she scooted off the crate and sunk to her knees in front of him, the cobblestone floor biting her joints. His cock bobbed at the most beautiful fucking sight he ever saw, and with an eager grasp at his base, she took the tip past her lips.

Sebastian’s head lulled back as he let out a quiet “unh,” drawn out once she slid the rest of his length into her mouth. She took his wrists then, bringing them behind her head, and his body knew precisely what to do as his fingers combed through her hair. With an abrupt thrust, he pushed deep into her eager mouth, and the moan that vibrated around his girth was all the encouragement he needed to repeat the motion. He imparted a slow, but intense pace, and she kept up with a slacked jaw and willing tongue. His cock glistened as it slid past her lips, a delicious mix of her saliva and his precum dribbling down her chin as she let him fuck her pretty mouth. The tip hammered the back of her throat and the sound she made to suppress her gag reflex stirred something in his chest, as if the nature of his ability to determine true love had some dirty little kinks of its own.

Then again, looking down into her eyes, gone glassy with the effort of her fellation, he had to wonder.

She didn't offer much room for second thoughts as she bobbed forward, taking him to the very base and then some, her nose pressed into the tufts of hair at his pubic bone. He held her there as she swallowed around his cock, her throat clenched as she sucked hard. With her airways constricted her breath was caught with nowhere to go and she properly choked, her face going red. Sebastian had never experienced something this intense, and he panted with balled fists in her hair to pull tightly.

His hips snapped, withdrawing from her mouth as she sucked in a breath, so quickly that she coughed from the rush of air. “While I’d love to keep fucking your mouth,” he grinned, and she swore she saw the devil himself, “I need you to come around my cock while I choke that pretty little throat of yours.”

His words were music to her ears. She obliged, and he pulled her up by the hair to stand again, attacking her lips, all teeth and tongues. His fingernails scratched her hips as he wrenched her pajama bottoms down, her panties joining them at her ankles before he lifted her onto the crate again. The wood scraped her bottom but she had no room to protest as his cock commanded her attention, dragging deliciously between her puffy folds. “Sebastian, please,” she mewled almost pathetically, angling her hips in hopes of slipping him in on her own.

“Oh sweetheart,” he sighed softly, “you’re so wet…”

An unexpected moment of tenderness claimed his senses then and he looked up, their gazes meeting, hearts swelling. He cupped her cheek, swiping a spot of spit from her chin as he leaned in to kiss her with a softness that he wasn't accustomed to. For all the pain he’d known, for all the darkness that stained his being, she was the safe space to embrace.

And he dare not let go of her. Not again. Not ever.

Her name fell from his lips as he slid inside of her. She hissed quietly as she acclimated to his length, testing his girth with a tightness that sent shivers up her spine. He rolled his hips, and she faced the heavens.

Sebastian was an intense lover, she discovered, his forehead pressed to hers as he fucked her deep, rocking on her ass with his eager motions. She was keen to contribute, her legs pretzeled around his waist, hands gripping his biceps for support, holding on for the ride of her life. Her plush warmth enveloped his cock, a silken heat that pulled him in. Their pace was perfection, enough to build their pleasure without losing traction.

“Mm, here.” He scooped her up at the bottom, carrying her effortlessly to a nearby workstation, gesturing her to lay her back on the desktop. “I wanna see all of you…”

He grabbed her hips with an almost bruising firmness and continued to fuck her on the workstation, watching his cock pump in and out of her, and she realized with a soft chuckle why he’d chosen this specific desk. No doubt this was a slight dig at her previous crush during their third year, Leander fucking Prewett, when Sebastian had caught them snogging outside the entrance to their common room. He’d teased her relentlessly for it, and now she had half a mind to wonder if it was a little crush of his own developing back then. His wicked grin implied they were on the same page. “You little shit,” she chuckled, but it cut off as he slammed inside, pulling an especially loud moan from her. No room for Gryffindor thoughts in this snake pit.

Sebastian’s gaze darkened with lust, his hair tousled along his forehead. One of those perfect hands claimed her throat as he shrouded her. “Yes,” she rasped, and he clasped firmly, squeezing precisely where he had to to get her heart thundering through her temples. She realized then, as her pulse became dangerously loud behind her ears, that he was timing his thrusts to her heartbeat. Her back arched with the increased pace, a symphony of gargled moans singing his praises as she quickly ascended the peak of an approaching climax. “Sebastian, I’m—I’m close…”

“I know,” he replied, unyielding in his motions. The edges of her vision greyed, and before she could protest the impending blackout, he eased his grip. At the precise moment that oxygenated blood returned to her brain, she came hard around his cock, hollering his name as she convulsed on the desk. Sebastian didn't stop, however, chasing the tails of his release with reckless abandon, hips pistoning so hard the table jostled and scraped against the floor. When he did come he punctuated it with a growled expletive, holding his hips flush to hers as her spent, quivering sex milked him for all he could give.

He collapsed onto her chest, kissing her sternum between shallow breaths. “You felt so, so good,” he whispered, craning his neck to offer breathless kisses as she cradled his head adoringly. She gestured to sit upright and he pulled out, sooner than he’d wanted, but he could tell by her soft groan that the firm surface had to be brutal on her spine.

Instead, she held him, melting into another appreciative kiss. “As did you. That was… I never knew it could feel like that.”

Sebastian chuckled, nosing her cheek with affection. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have left you alone after all.”

Her smile faltered, and he caught the echo of pain behind her eyes. “Sorry, I… I should have talked to you about this sooner. I was wrong to have shut you out this way. I was only trying to ensure your safety.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip. “I’ll make it up to you, for lost time.”

“You better,” she grinned again, this time with fondness as she brushed the bangs back from his forehead. “And, maybe… we can keep exploring these new enjoyments together. Perhaps by letting you indulge in some rougher activities, it will help.”

Sebastian nodded slowly. “You’d want to do that for me?”

“Of course I would,” She replied without hesitation. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t offer my assistance?”

A strong brow raised at that, and he smirked. “Oh, is this currently what you would define as friend behaviour between us?” he gestured to their naked forms, flushed pink with post-sex afterglow, glistening with a sheen of sweat. “Merlin, you’ve become awfully chummy.”

She rolled her eyes, thanking him wordlessly as he helped put her shirt back on before retrieving his own. “So you’re assuming I’m you’re girlfriend now or something?”

“Will you?”

She caught it; fleeting, but there nevertheless, a fond expression that brought back memories of his younger years, a boyish charm that captured her heart long ago. Her Sebastian was still living, hidden beneath layers of tarnish and grime, but certainly there, and she would polish him back to his original splendour and shine. She nodded, and they made plans to meet again sooner rather than later because later was an awful prospect in this touching moment of reunion.

She left the greenhouse with his hand in hers, a changed woman, gladly leaving the bodies of their former selves on the floor, all akimbo and forgotten, a distraction for the pain of the past to feast upon, releasing them from the confines of their creation.

Love is a murder, after all.

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c-schroed · 5 months

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Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992) Or Why The Probably Most Accurate Movie Adaptation Of Dracula Still Is Not Accurate Enough

I mentioned some time ago - while salivating over the marvellous razor scene of Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula adaptation - that there is quite some stuff to unpack here. And now I found some time to unpack. So let's begin. I'll start with the good stuff, firstly the good stuff that's not in the book (i.e., the Flourishes), than the good stuff that's true to the book (the Well-Conserved). Thirdly, I'll make note of things that were, unnervingly, changed (by which I mean They Came Back Wrong), and then I'll deal with what is unfortunately left out from the book (the Missing). And finally, finally I'll rant over that one bad thing that never was in the book in the first place (a section I'll call JUST WHY?).

So. A tragedy in five acts. Here we go.

Act I - The Flourishes

The razor scene. I think I dealt with this enough by now. It's perfection and I'll die on that hill.

The music. Obviously, Bram Stoker's gothic lil masterpiece is lacking some gorgeous score. But mourn no longer, because Wojciech Kilar cooked up some dashing, pushing tune for us, fitting perfectly to this dark tale of spreading darkness and deepening madness.

Some basic knowledge about blood groups. Yeah, Stoker can't be blamed for this, but still. It's a nice addition to remind us that we do indeed live in a world where blood groups exist.

The Westenra Estate. As much as I pity that the lovely town of Whitby did not make it into the movie, I do love Lucy Westenra's house. Because I'm a sucker for hedge mazes. Simple as that.

Those glasses. Those. Fucking. Nice. Glasses.

Act II - The Well-Conserved

The plot in general. Yes, there are a lot of maddening differences, as we will see soon. But still, this movie at least makes the impression that most of the people working on it had indeed read the darn novel. Which is something that I can't say about many other Dracula adaptations I have seen.

The costumes, the sets, the atmosphere. Well done, everyone!

The Actors. The good thing about being not native in a language is that one is not very prone to dialects that seem off. And as I happen to not be a native speaker of English, I have little problems with Keanu Reeves and Winona Ryder adding some US touch to what should be very, very, v e r y British characters. I even find Reeves perfectly fitting for the oh so darn young Jonathan Harker. And the rest of the cast is marvellous, too (with the exception of Winona Ryder, see below for details). Especially Tom Waits, who is hard-wired to the name of Renfield in my brain ever since I first saw this movie. And Gary Oldman as Dracula… Well. I think I already made clear what opinion I have about that sexy bastard.

Some lucky few of lovely quotes made it over to the film. Dracula's welcome. The Fowl Bauble of Human Vanity, of course. And Qunincey almost making me faint when saying "Little girl" when I least expected it.

Act III - They Came Back Wrong

The dates. Goshdarnit, the dates! It's an epistolary novel, so why make the effort of making up completely new dates for events that already had a precise date in the novel? I just don't get it. And it unnerves me. Every. Fucking. Time.

Time in general. Watching the movie after Dracula Daily makes it feel so very, very hasty. Jonathan travels to Castle Dracula like it's no thing at all. And the first few days in Castle Dracula are condensed into one weird evening.

Dracula meeting Mina before Jonathan is back. I really, really loved the book for avoiding the most terrible tropes. And then comes this movie, and struts right into this terrible pitfall.

Mina. I'm sorry, usually I love the work of Winona Ryder, but here she was way too bland. Maybe it was because her character had quite a revamp (ha. ha.) and no one cared to tell her what new approach she should take. But whatever reason, the clever, adorable train fiend of the original did not deserve this!

Act IV - The Missing

The Voyage of the Demeter is way too short. Where is "But I am captain, and I must not leave my ship"? Where is the poor sea captain tying himself to the wheel? And where is his funeral? Oh, I really missed all that. And, I mean, I don't mind hearing Anthony Hopkins read the lines, but would it have been such an expense to at least hire an additional actor to voice the correspondent or the sea captain?

Jonathan Holding Mina By the Arm. That's really not an objectively big issue. That's just me who fell in love with JonMina after reading this chapter. And almost no one does it properly. They deserve justice!

(Thanks a ton to @smieska for capturing my mood just perfectly!)

Act V - JUST WHY?

Elisabeta. Don't get me wrong here: All of the oh so tragic Drac backstory they invented for this movie is terribly unnecessary. But in this sea of uselessness, the tragically deceased wife of Vlad Țepeș that just so happens to perfectly resemble Mina Murray is an audience-insulting island of unoriginality. I mean, yeah, I guess someone wanted to add some romance to the story of Vlad the Fucking Impaler. Because, well, nineties or so. But Mina, of all women? Why not invent some new character that can be bothered with such stuff? Why ruin an all-nice JonMina ship? I don't get the whole new backstory, and I especially don't get this aspect.

Dracula raping Lucy in his shitty werewolf form. Everything about this is wrong. And it has no relevance for the plot. Just. Blergh.

Epilogue

It's cruel to watch Francis Ford Coppola's take on Dracula right after finishing @re-dracula. I know that now. Everything is still too fresh. It's a good movie, after all, but especially because it's quite good it is frustrating to be so terribly aware of all its shortcomings. In a few weeks or so, I would recommend it, again, I guess. As long as it's still Dracula Off-Season. 7 out of 10 points.

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #dracula 1992 #bram stoker's dracula #dracula movie #francis ford coppola #keanu reeves #winona ryder #anthony hopkins #tom waits #dracula daily #jonmina #jonathan harker #mina harker #movie recommendation #movie review #schroed's thoughts

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zapreportsblog · 8 months

Note

Love your work! Felix and Demetri(separate) saving their mate after an accident(either a car accident, she falls in a lake, anything else in mind) Please and thank you!

❝cold❞

✭ pairing : demetri volturi x reader x felix volturi

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) is the mate of demetri volturi and felix volturi , and one night on her way home she’s involved in a accident that leaves her injured beyond repair

✭ authors note : this shit sad

✭ twilight masterlist

Felix Volturi :

The night was draped in obsidian, a tapestry of stars that glistened above, offering a faint glimmer of hope in the darkness. (Y/N) was behind the wheel, her thoughts consumed by the anticipation of reuniting with Felix, her mate in the Volturi coven. The road stretched before her, a ribbon of asphalt cutting through the dense forest, shrouded in shadows.

The dashboard clock blinked 2:37 AM as (Y/N)'s car rumbled along the winding path. The occasional passing headlights of other vehicles were rare companions in this lonely stretch of road. Despite the late hour, a thread of excitement ran through her veins; she was nearing the end of her journey to see Felix once more.

But fate, it seemed, had darker plans in store.

A blinding cascade of light suddenly erupted from the opposite lane, cutting through the inky blackness. A drunk driver, reckless and oblivious to the world, had veered into (Y/N)'s lane. Panic surged through her as she instinctively swerved, her grip on the steering wheel tightening in a desperate bid to avoid the impending collision.

Tires screeched, and the world spun into chaos. Metal clashed with metal, a deafening crash that reverberated through the night. (Y/N)'s car was sent careening off the road, its momentum hurling it towards the cliffside. Time seemed to stretch as her heart hammered in her chest, the impending disaster unfolding in slow motion.

The edge of the cliff came into view, a yawning abyss that seemed to beckon her with icy fingers. Her fingers clenched the wheel as her car teetered on the precipice, gravity's relentless pull tugging at her. Then, with a heart-wrenching plunge, her world was consumed by darkness as her vehicle plummeted into the depths below.

The impact was a symphony of shattering glass, twisting metal, and the roar of the ocean that eagerly swallowed her car. Water rushed in, a frigid embrace that enveloped (Y/N) and dragged her deeper into the depths. Panic surged within her chest, bubbles escaping her lips as she struggled against the current.

But as moments turned into agonizing minutes, her strength waned. The weight of the water pressed upon her, her lungs screaming for air that was cruelly out of reach. Memories flashed before her eyes – moments with Felix, shared laughter, stolen kisses – a lifetime condensed into mere seconds.

In the hushed depths of the ocean, the world grew dimmer, the stars above now a distant memory. And as the last vestiges of consciousness slipped away, (Y/N)'s thoughts turned to Felix, her mate who awaited her arrival, unaware of the tragedy that had befallen her on this fateful night.

The night remained silent, the ocean's embrace unyielding, as it claimed (Y/N) – a life extinguished in the shadow of the very stars that had once held so much promise.

Demetri Volturi :

The moon hung low in the inky sky, casting a melancholic glow over the winding road that led to Volterra. (Y/N), the beloved mate of Demetri Volturi, embarked on a treacherous journey to visit him. The late hour added an air of mystery and danger to the already ominous atmosphere.

(Y/N) gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white with tension. The road stretched out before her, seemingly endless and desolate, devoid of any signs of life. The rhythmic hum of the engine provided her with some solace, a familiar companion on this lonely path.

As the minutes turned into hours, fatigue began to creep into her bones, clouding her mind and weighing heavily on her eyelids. She fought bravely against the exhaustion, knowing that she had to reach Demetri's side, no matter the cost.

But fate had other plans in store for her that fateful night. A sudden blinding light pierced through the darkness, illuminating the road ahead. Panic gripped (Y/N)'s heart as she realized the oncoming car was veering uncontrollably, swaying from lane to lane.

In a frantic attempt to avoid the impending collision, (Y/N) swerved sharply, her car skidding and spinning out of control. Time seemed to slow down as her heart pounded in her chest. The screeching tires echoed in the night, drowned out only by her terrified screams.

With a sickening thud, the two cars collided, metal against metal, shattering the silence of the night. The force of the impact sent (Y/N)'s car hurtling towards the edge of a cliff. In a heart-stopping moment, her vehicle teetered precariously on the edge before gravity claimed its victory.

The world turned upside down as (Y/N)'s car plummeted into the abyss below, crashing into the unforgiving waters of the ocean. The impact was merciless, shattering glass and drowning out any remaining hope. Water rushed in, engulfing the vehicle, trapping (Y/N) within its suffocating embrace.

As the murky depths swallowed (Y/N) whole, her heartbeat faded into a distant echo, mingling with the sounds of the crashing waves. Darkness closed in around her, a final curtain falling on a life cut short.

Demetri, unaware of the tragedy that had befallen his beloved mate, anxiously awaited her arrival, oblivious to the cruel twist of fate that had snatched her away. Little did he know that his world was about to crumble, leaving him to face an unbearable loss.

And so, the night claimed its victims, leaving behind a shattered heart and a soul consumed by grief. The echoes of (Y/N)'s existence lingered, forever etched in the memories of those who loved her, her absence a painful reminder of the fragility of life.

Demetri and Felix :

The night was draped in an inky blackness, a canvas painted with the faint glow of stars that seemed far too distant to offer any solace. (Y/N) was on a journey that held both excitement and trepidation, her heart racing with the weight of the news she carried. A secret smile played on her lips as she navigated the winding roads, her thoughts consumed by the impending reunion with her mates, Felix and Demetri of the Volturi coven.

The dashboard clock ticked 1:45 AM as (Y/N)'s car hummed along the desolate stretch of road. The night air whispered promises of the unknown, and the headlights of other passing vehicles were rare companions in this lonely journey. Her heart danced with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty – tonight, she would share with Felix and Demetri the incredible news that she was carrying their child, a hybrid of their supernatural bloodlines.

Yet, as fate would have it, the road ahead held a darkness that eclipsed even the starless sky.

A pair of oncoming headlights suddenly materialized in the distance, piercing through the shadows like twin beacons of impending doom. The other car swerved erratically, betraying the signs of a driver who had succumbed to fatigue. Horror knotted (Y/N)'s stomach as she realized the danger, her grip on the steering wheel tightening involuntarily.

Desperation drove her to react, her reflexes a blur as she veered to avoid the collision. Tires screeched in protest, a chorus of metal meeting metal rang out, and her car was sent spiraling off the road. The world became a cacophony of chaos as her vehicle careened towards the edge of the cliff, the abyss below hungrily awaiting its sacrifice.

The cliffside rushed forward with merciless speed, and the world seemed to slow as her car teetered on the brink. The abyss beckoned, a void that threatened to swallow her, their child, and her dreams whole. For a heart-stopping instant, time hung suspended, then the weight of gravity's pull claimed her, and she was cast into a terrifying freefall.

The impact with the water was a deafening roar – a symphony of shattering glass and twisting metal as the ocean embraced her car. Water rushed in, engulfing her in its icy tendrils, and the world became a swirling blur of darkness and turmoil. Panic clenched her chest as she fought against the current, her instincts screaming for survival.

But as precious air dwindled, as seconds stretched into an eternity of suffocating darkness, her strength began to ebb. Her mind reeled as memories of Felix and Demetri flashed before her eyes – their love, their laughter, their shared dreams – a life she had hoped to share with them, now cruelly slipping through her fingers.

In the shadowed depths of the ocean, the stars that had once held promise were now cold and distant. Each heartbeat was a struggle, each gasp for air met with crushing despair. And as her consciousness waned, her thoughts turned to Felix and Demetri, her mates who awaited her return, unaware of the heart-wrenching tragedy that had shattered her world on this unforgiving night.

The night remained silent, the ocean's embrace unyielding, as it claimed (Y/N) and the life she had carried within her – a future extinguished, leaving behind shattered dreams and a love that would forever remain unfinished.

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cakebatteronabrickwall · 2 months

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Not to be an insufferable Shakespeare girl on main but, a lot of Slow Horses reminds me of him, the way it utilizes how tragic yet utterly stupid and comedic violence can be. (BTW, This is very much inspired by @saulbetter 's very cool observation of how the show uses Webb as a living example of escalated violence, the crash test dummy that suffers increasingly real consequences, lol)

One of my favorite plays is Titus Andronicus, especially because of an interpretation by Peter Sacks called “non-mourning”. I’m really condensing it here, but in essence it’s about how Titus is a story so filled with blood, revenge, tragedy, and (at times ridiculous) violence that it makes the characters completely breathless. There is no time to mourn, only to react. The mourning itself is expressed by increasingly horrific murders etc.

Season 3 of Slow Horses is not only the most violent, but also the most fast paced so far. It all takes place over the course of, like, one day. That is crazy. The deaths we see on screen are also very blunt. They are quick, brutal, final, and both avoidable yet inevitable. That makes the conversation River and Louisa are afforded for ca. five minutes before disaster stand out so much. And after everything in the end, Louisa is just like “Okay, bye”, which is the opposite of a healthy reaction. While River goes to see the person he is already mourning (not lost, losing) who goes on to give him a genuine reason to mourn– not because grandpa is slowly drifting away, but because he is also destroying the image River has of him and MI5 in the process. This is like when everyone mourns Lavinia, even though she is still alive, only that she happens to be a living reminder of loss (!).

Finally, as an aside, I also have to think of how Donovan and Webb are positioned in this story arc. Slow Horses and Titus Andronicus both have a sort of cyclical (or perhaps pyramidical?) nature of violence going. However, back to the beginning of the post now, Webb as a character seems to inspire violence, though never directly carrying out any. The tragic comic aspect is that it circles back around to him no matter what he does or doesn’t do. On the other hand, Donovan wants revenge/retaliation for what happened. His journey starts with violence carried out against his lover, he continues to carry it out as a reaction, then it circles back to him, eventually destroying him (and others), too. Hauntingly, the last part of the chain is presented by the sister who is no longer a sister when Lamb leaves her at that hospital, is she?

#long post #lol #girl who has read an ungodly amount of shakespeare and shakespeare scholars: huh ya know this reminds me of something...#i also think there is a different aspect at play here which is-- who enjoys violence and why and to what extent?#i think that would be a really interesting part 2 to this #because i didn't even mention shirley and marcus #slow horses #river cartwright #louisa guy #james spider webb

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apollosgiftofprophecy · 3 months

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Warning: Rant ahead. Do not read if you wanna avoid me venting about the wider RRverse fandom & their attitude toward the TOA fans.

Seriously. This is a vent post. Stay away if you don't wanna risk getting upset. I just need a place to get it off my chest. It's been stewing in my head for long enough and I usually feel better if I write it down/type it down somewhere. Makes my chest feel less tight.

Stay safe <3

"No one is treating you guys like outcasts!"

"With your annoying POV-"

"Everyone was so OOC-"

"Meg is such a Mary Sue-"

SHUT UP

THIS IS WHY I STICK TO THE TOA FANDOM.

THIS IS WHY I BARELY INTERACT WITH THE LARGER PJO FANDOM.

THIS IS WHY I GET ANXIOUS ABOUT SAYING I LIKE TOA ON A DIFFERENT PLATFORM THAN TUMBLR.

BECAUSE. OF. THIS.

Recently, I have left a comment on a Youtube video. All in all, it was basically just me listing off reasons why I liked TOA and - in hindsight - naively going "idk why people don't like it".

Top Ten things said before disaster.

The next day, I got two comments.

One was along the lines of-

"Don't care."

The other was-

"Jasper broke up and Jason died - it's not canon to me!"

...

Excuse me for having an opinion, I guess.

What sucks even more is that when a fellow TOA commented to me, the second guy ALSO responded to them with "yeah but PJO and HOO are still better maybe even MCGAA to"

Like what the fuck. who does this. who has the time????

people who don't have a life, i guess.

And then. and then this same person just Keeps Going when I replied. They said "TOA's an AU" and "It relies too heavily on cameos" and then turns around and says "this would have been better if *proceeds to give a list of cameos* were with Apollo instead of Meg"

like. URGHHHHH.

They. Complain. About. Every. Single. Thing.

Even Tristan McLean going broke. And wishing "something" had been done to "fix" it.

Like fixing something of that caliber would be easy. One of TOA's things is that it deals with Reality - and I get it, some people may not like that, especially for a fantasy series - but come on. You can't expect everything to be fine and dandy 24/7 about a series of GREEK MYTHOLOGY, THE CREATOR OF TRAGEDY.

Then they went on to say they hoped that if the show gets to HOO, they "fix" its ending so TOA doesn't happen.

...BRO HOO ONLY EXISTS FOR TOA TO SHINE. RICK'S FAVORITE CHARACTER TO WRITE IS APOLLO AND THAT'S A PILL YOU NEED TO SWALLOW.

they also went on to say that TOA is "example of a story that overstayed its welcome" and i'm just. GAHHHHHHHH *screams into pillows*

"we got new characters in PJO & HOO-"

Me: *can literally name off 27 new characters from TOA from the top of my head*

Them: You need to respect other people's opinions-!

Me: SAYS THE GUY WHO INVADED MY COMMENT??? WHO LITERALLY CALLED ME ANNOYING??? WHO'S COMPLAINING ABOUT A CHILDREN'S SERIES??? AND REFUSED TO AGREE TO DISAGREE WHEN I GAVE YOU THE OPTION???

Them: There's a reason why people don't like TOA. Can you guess? Because we didn't read the book? Nope i read all 5 and the reason is it's not as good as the others-

Me: bro that's not even a solid REASON-

The condensation on that last one really pissed me off.

What was especially baffling, however, was...

Them: I am pretty sure you have hidden opinions that make you like ToA, like maybe you are LGBTQ or LGBTQ Supporter-

WHAT. DOES. MY. SEXUALITY. HAVE. TO. DO. WITH. THIS.

THAT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!

and as a matter of fact, what are they even implying here??? it just sounds like they're saying I must only like TOA because of the queer rep and I can tell you that reason is bullshit.

(I love the queer rep dw it's just not the #1 reason why i love TOA)

also here's a full list of the characters they said were 'OOC': Piper, Frank, Leo, Calypso, Hazel, & Reyna.

A few of these, I understand the confusion (but also disagree with) - but FRANK? FRANK ZHANG WAS OOC?

AT THIS POINT THEY'RE JUST LOOKING FOR SOMETHING TO COMPLAIN ABOUT.

(In another person's comment about loving TOA they also went "well there's no Percabeth in it-" OH MY GODS JUST STOP ALREADY.)

It was especially infuriating when I pointed out the hate the TOA fans in the comments experience, they replied with "Nobody's treating you like outcasts!"

TELL THAT TO EVERY TOA FAN WHO'S GOTTEN HATE!

TELL THAT TO ME WHO JUST GOT HATE FOR IT.

just. AJHGSFGH. people. some people.

I want to block them. But youtube has removed that feature (thanks a lot youtube).

I'll stick it out. I am point-blank telling them to drop it. We'll see how that goes.

just...people. Guess you still can't have an opinion, huh?

Jokes on them they merely fueled my stubborn fire. I only love TOA more now. The harder they argue, the tighter I cling.

Anyway. If you've stuck it out this far, thanks for listening. I just really needed to vent. It's been bugging me for a few days and ruining my mood every time I open up youtube.

No response is needed, btw - again, needed a place to vent.

ToA fans, you're the best <3 Love ya <3

#not tagging any fandoms #don't wanna invite drama #it's just a book series i know...#but it's hard to even talk about what you like when people jump down your throat about it #like. can't i have an opinion? am i not allowed one?#according to the wider fandom i guess not #this is why i stick to the toa one #good vibes. good conversations. disagreements drop pretty quick because we value each other's opinions.#yeah. toa ily <3 #vent post #tw vent

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legendary-guest · 2 months

Note

what r ur favorite drakgo fics?

A very good question! I have a lot of favourites! List with blurbs and commentary incoming, giant. Reviewed Mad Angry, Mad Crazy by bcbdrums Hell hath no fury like a mad scientist scorned! Borderline psychological thriller, equal parts character deconstruction and tragedy, a twisted telling of the aftermath of So the Drama and Mad Dogs and Aliens. Love having your brain scrambled, heart torn apart? This one's for you! I've reviewed this one in particular for anyone who may feel lost when following the story; also, because I adore it.

Mint by OhBoyOhBoy A moment of deep sentiment and romance amongst chaos and debris. Tension is built upon excellently, the sweetness is the peak and the end, a (literal) gasp. This author has great work, but this is my absolute favourite. Contains my favourite Shego name ever.

Drakgo Drabbles by gofordrakgo Some of the best drabble work I have ever seen. No word is wasted. Moments in time, bits of unique characterisation, huge events condensed into 100 words; a wide variety of topics and themes. You will find something you love here, don't let the word count put you off. Less is more, and how! I recommend revisiting a piece that catches your interest to appreciate it better, don't fly through. Dwelling by gofordrakgo A unique origin story for our favourite villains, where a young Shego, Shea (my second favourite Shego name), worms her way into dorky Drew Lipsky's derelict apartment and the domino effect that comes of it. Reverse-engineered Drakgo; unrefined, naive, and...innocent? Lots of sweetness and humour with an underlying, creeping darkness. Developing story, I recommend sticking around - I know I am! and now i'm covered in you by soulffles (NSFW 18+) A fantastic post-Graduation get-together fic with wonderful prose. Deeply romantic, intimate and funny! The internal monologues for this piece are spot on, the way the author weaves in humour amongst these vulnerable moments and thoughts just endears me to Drakken and Shego's plight of...realising that they love each other. A Precise Hand by eclipsing-dreams Fantastic subject of hands being the focus, revolving around all the wonderful things they can do (and can elicit!). Two chapters, one for each of them. Excellently constructed, fantastic characterisation, and just a touch (har har) naughty. A slightly unique edge of characterisation is given to Shego's part that I find intriguing. Happy, sweet ending; you aren't left hanging! Highly recommend the author's other pieces, this is simply my favourite. Here by gofordrakgo Drakken and Shego show-up for each other when they need someone most. The Shego section in this story is my favourite; the best depiction of, to avoid spoilers, a 'vulnerable' Shego I have ever seen. This convinced me, this was her. Dr. D showing up for her in that part, my goodness. I love it. The wounded pride, the shame, the quashing of feeling she presents is just great. Fantastic balance. So lovely. Happy ending. Friends by gofordrakgo Shego realises she may not have been the greatest friend to Drakken, and questions the nature of their relationship post-Graduation in her emotional exhaustion. Fantastic character breakdown, very tightly written. If you love slow-on-the-uptake Drakgo, an emotionally exhausted Shego who suddenly lets her thoughts (and feelings) run wild and awkward domesticity, I recommend. Forfeit by bcbdrums The only winning move is not to play! Somewhat non-linear story-telling, smashing together the bits of Dr. Drakken's shattered life post-Graduation, and post-Shego. O, we love a good Greek tragedy! Parting is such sweet sorrow. Jealous by TheyCanHaveTheSex (NSFW 18+) How can I say no to angry, angst fuelled sex, anguish and repressed feeling? How can I say no to jealousy? I can't, is the answer. Love the tension and how bizarre Shego is in particular in this piece, at least to a certain point. The way the story gives way to genuine hurt, too, I really love it a lot. It's not very heavy, in my opinion, but it does get a bit sad. Sweet, happy ending, I really love this one.

Unreviewed A New Beginning by Windcage (NSFW 18+) Yet another fantastic post-Graduation get-together fic! Mature, sort of refined atmosphere that I love, featuring a particularly distracted Dr. Drakken and an unusually patient Shego - until she isn't. Very, very sweet, romantic and funny. Doc's plant mutation is characterised in a fun way here as well. Highly recommend. come back when you can by obijuankenobi (NSFW 18+) A Drakgo exclusive Graduation Part 1, basically! Excellently written exploration of Drakken and Shego's new careers post-Graduation, and insight into how Dr. D really sees himself, after all the fanfare. Well-written, fun plot that does not overstay its welcome, fun action scenes, Drakken and Shego protecting each other, and, most of all, extremely sweet and tender romance. A++, five gold stars, Honour Roll, you name it. And, Motor Ed gives Shego a sexy motorcycle! Why didn't she ever have one in the show? This author gets it. Bad is Good and Good is Bad by split-n-splice Realistic, gritty and somewhat surreal depiction of how Drakken and Shego met, before they became Drakken and Shego. Strong, tense atmosphere. Visceral, ugly, the lowest they have ever been in their young lives, and, when they meet, consequences are inevitable and paths are determined, set in stone. The author makes clever narrative choices, such as omitting names entirely, which builds upon the emerging, almost 'blank slate' aspects of the Doc's and Shego's identities as youths at this point in time. The setting is fantastic, probably my favourite aspect of this piece. So many strong bits of imagery that involve the environment, especially in the second and third chapters. A great scar origin story, too. I highly recommend for anyone who likes something meatier, more grounded. O yeah, and there's great art inside! How considerate of the author to help the reader out! Durable by tabbyclaw Love this one, especially the bluntness of Shego's inner monologue/prose. Possessive, cheeky, somewhat domineering, almost feigning playing second-fiddle to Dr. Drakken. The setting for this is great, there's a great sense of Shego-flavoured risk and recklessness involved without sacrificing her glamour. This might all sound like nonsense, but, I assure you, it is all there in the text! Fans of kissy-face, this one is for you! (Meaning, every Drakgo fan ever, but I digress).

Untitled by tabbyclaw I always appreciate this author's maturity when dealing with Drakgo, I adore it, and it's present here, too. No skimping on the romance at all, it's just wonderful. A take on a love confession that's just so...nice. After the whirlwind and fervour, realisation rolls in. Comforting. Ocean Views by Aleego ; Tumblr fanfic link inspired by art by midnightcaptions (NSFW 18+) An excellent fic inspired by a great piece of art! Truly a merger of great minds! Phone sex might be nothing new, but it works excellently here to establish tension. It's actually a fantastic headspace for Drakken and Shego to be in as characters, not having to face each other, but to speak as if they were alone. It's a strange bit of intimacy between them that, potentially, serves as a lynch pin to how their dynamic changes. Tastefully written. Truth or Dare by those-other-ones (NSFW 18+) Love this one. Love how unique it is, how casual it is, how unglamorous it is. It's also incredibly sweet, vulnerable. Romantic drunkenness, if you will. Captures their competitive and stubborn personalities very well, sabotaging themselves without even knowing by throwing alcohol into the mix. Happy ending, very tender, intimate, sweet. Full-on sex not something you can handle? Try this one. Untitled by those-other-ones (NSFW 18+) An alternative take on an existing fic where Shego is still a hero in Go City and Dr. Drakken makes his villainous debut! I enjoy how weird this is as a first meeting. The setting allows for a great sexual tension and atmosphere that's very unusual, and, when villain and hero are alone together, fervour, desperation and tenderness are unleashed. Very different, highly recommend. Love this one. Routine by Nikki-wr (NSFW 18+) Drakken and Shego's relationship suddenly becomes physical, but it's not all roses. This is a really excellent, weighty, angsty fic. I love how their misunderstandings, miscommunication and insecurities are depicted, their fears of honesty and taking risks when it comes to each other, juxtaposed with irony of perpetuating a self-destructive path. My words might be strong, but this fic ends very, very sweetly. In truth, all of this author's pieces are strong, and angst-tinged, which I adore, but I've chosen this one to highlight. Love the passion. Oldies: Fics from Years Gone By! Vietnam by Dr. Agent My absolute favourite Drakken-centric Drakgo fic ever, bar none! Drakken's developing feelings for Shego are documented in unguarded moments, woven with masterful, restrained prose. The language in this blows me away, it's just. Wow. There is one line in this, a single line, that I obsess over. Powerful imagery and metaphor that ties together the wilderness, war and jungle-theming of the piece - just brilliant, multi-faceted. The author also has a Shego-centric one to mirror this, but Vietnam is my absolute favourite. Beautiful Dynamite by Crystal Allen My favourite Shego character-study fic, ever! Set during Two to Tutor, the author utilises Señor Senior Sr.'s wisened voice as our guide into the ferocious, yet unattractive, side of Shego. Brilliant, I cannot think of a more polarising pair to make commentary on each other, despite their shared hedonism, passion for wealth and villainy. SSS makes slight Drakgo commentary at the end, which I love. Makes me want to read more from his perspective on the two of them, since in this fic, their relationship sort of parallels and contradicts ones he has had in the past. I highly recommend for any big Shego fans. Jealous by NAster Another great Shego-centric fic with jealousy as a core theme that makes the list? Say it isn't so! Wonderful take on Shego's flighty, ornery nature and how it's influenced her behaviour with Drakken, and, with everyone else. Understated, sweet Drakgo, possessive Shego. What's not to love?

Out of Control by Blackfire 18 The Supreme One's treatment of her last line of defence has warped him, not just in body, but in mind. Some of my favourite nasty lines from Supreme Shego and Drakken live here. Rage, angst and tragedy, all in one. The Supreme One's future is miserable for all, even herself. Downer ending. Seeking Shelter from the Rain by Blackfire 18 A classic. Adore this author's Gothic atmosphere, it's very nostalgic, and very prominent in this dreary piece. Amidst a recent failure, Shego is vulnerable and Drakken is there with her. Comforting, sweet ending. Fatal Mistake in the Dark by Blackfire 18 In my opinion, not as strong as the other two pieces. However, it is the ending to this that I really like. The author's sense of building dread is fantastic and present in all her dark fics, but the pay-off for this one is intriguing. Tragedy...? Everything by Hematitebadger A measured, mature, sweet, outcome of a scenario where Dr. Drakken wins. The sheer gentleness, the duality of Lipsky, what he is capable of and who he is. Just lovely. Minutes and Years by Hematitebadger 50 sentences, a real relic from the past! One of the very best that Drakgo has to offer. You only need one sentence to grab you! Symbiosis by Ninnik Nishukan from The Ones That Never Happened Liked Out of Control? Watch a similar dynamic play out and end in a completely different way! Understand the reasons behind Shego and Drakken's transformation and relationship in this timeline, and the brief humanity they end up sharing. Optimistic, relieving ending compared to its sibling-fic. The author's best work, in my sincere opinion. More? Interesting ideas/cute moments/unique settings that I like Stay by Eienvine - Oldie Any Road Will Get You There by Crystal Allen - Oldie Definitely Exactly What It Looks Like by souljelly - Reviewed Sick Day by split-n-splice - Reviewed Practice Makes Perfect by split-n-splice - Reviewed The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie by split-n-splice - Unreviewed Not Sentimental by sweet_tangerine_dreams - Reviewed New and Not New by Malvolia - Reviewed A Knotty Situation by bcbdrums - Unreviewed In All the Gin Joints in the World, He Asks for Coco Moo by UnapologeticallyMeatwad - Unreviewed The Aftermath by dragannahEireann - Unreviewed / Incomplete Fic Expected by gofordrakgo - Reviewed Just a Pair of Cold Dwellers by OhBoyOhBoy - Unreviewed

Thanks razzledazzledrakgo, for breaking in my ask box, and for breaking the dam! I don't know how to add a Keep Reading cut.

#razzledazzledrakgo #drakgo #drakgo fanfic #drakgo fanfiction #legendary response #legendary list #I mean it has to be look at this monster #so #legendary it shall be #Approx. 5 months of utter insanity #devouring everything I could get my hands on whilst living my life #There's so much high quality Drakgo fanfic and I would like for everyone to go out and read it. Explore it. LOVE IT!#If you could imagine Motor Ed running this blog and reading and reviewing Drakgo #That would make me happy and make me laugh #Seriously #O yeah and as always #LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THIIIIIINK

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happyminyards · 10 months

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Titanic Myths and Misconceptions, pt2.

[part 1, feat. "not enough lifeboats", "untrained crew", "no lifeboat drills" and "speeding & ignoring ice warnings", here]

"The Titanic lowered lifeboats half filled"

Now this is true! Here's a breakdown of which lifeboats went down when and with how many people in them (approximately, since we’re not sure on some and the last two literally washed off the deck). However, this is often framed in two ways: Titanic's officers were inexperienced and thus couldn't load the boats fully in time (we already covered this) or Titanic's officers were stopping men and third class passengers from entering.

Reality is once again more complicated than that. To make one thing clear, yes, Officer Lightoller was specifically not allowing men in via the boat deck, apart from crew members who were needed to work the boats.

This stems from him interpreting Smith's "put the women and children in and lower away" order as "women and children only", while Murdoch interpreted it as "women and children first". Since the Birkenhead Drill was not a law but rather chivalric code that got implemented in different ways (or sometimes not at all), no interpretation can really be deemed as "wrong".

Now, Lightoller also indicated that he didn't consider loading the boats full before they were in the water as safe, mainly worrying about the strain on the construction. While Titanic's lifeboats were actually tested completely filled during her drills and Lightoller was aware of them, he was basically pulling on his years of experience at sea where lowering fully loaded lifeboats often resulted in tragedy. We don't know if Murdoch, who was in charge of the lifeboats on the other side of the ship, had the same reservations since he (probably, it's debated whether it was him or Wilde) shot himself before the ship went down.

And before people start vilifying Lightoller, he and the rest of the crew were actually planning on loading the lifeboats from the gangways down below. Besides seemingly being safer, this would avoid crowding on the boat deck and give folks who were down below a fighting chance. The crew thought the boat was going down in about an hour, that would not be enough time for all the 2nd and 3rd class passengers who largely occupied the lower decks to find their way up. Lightoller specifically sent down crew men to open the doors (which did happen almost everywhere, though the crew probably drowned or got trapped while doing so). We also have Boxhall saying that Smith was ordering boats to come back and load from the gangways during the sinking, which is also backed up by survivors. Now, this didn't happen. Why? Some boats were scared of being swamped (even after the ship went down), some thought they needed to get away quickly to avoid being sucked under water when the Titanic actually went down or being damaged by another boat. This actually almost happened, lifeboat 13 almost had lifeboat 15 lowered on their head when they had to row to the side to avoid water being released by a condenser exhaust.

But the crew were always planning on filling the boats up fully to their best ability, and as safely as possibly.

There's also the issue that especially at the start of the sinking no one wanted to get into the goddamn boats. Titanic's impact wasn't super dramatic, the damage she received was actually ridiculously small, only around 12-13 square feet/1.1-1.2 square meters. It took them awhile to figure out whether Titanic was actually sinking, since they needed to go down and see exactly where the damage was located (see the green lines here).

The only reason she sank is that the damage was spread over six watertight compartments. Freak bad luck.

But this also meant that Titanic sank very evenly and calmly for almost two hours. People frankly just did not think she was going down, and were understandably reluctant to get into tiny boats to be lowered into the ice cold, pitch black ocean when the big liner seemed so much safer. Some even went up to the boat deck, saw the boats, and decided to go back down to their cabins.

Additionally, people were reluctant to be separated from their families, which is understandable enough. The officers however, as I said, thought she was going down in about an hour and would probably capsize violently (that was Thomas Andrews', the chief designer's, estimate), so lowering the boats quickly was their priority, even if they were not filled.

Better to lower two boats quickly than to spend half an hour convincing people to get into one, because boats in the water could at least pick people up or load them from the gangways or water, while boats still chained on deck would go down with the ship (and they really had no time to spare, they didn’t even manage to launch the last two boats).

"Titanic's third class passengers were locked down below"

Now the third class passengers being locked down below is a combination of issues. For one, there were waist-high gates that locked off third class. These were there due to US immigration regulations. We also know that a lot of them were opened once the ship started going down (see testimonies linked below), though of course there is the possibility that they didn't get to all of them in time.

The testimony most often cited (and probably also used by Cameron as inspiration) is that of Daniel Buckley. He woke up due to "a terrible noise", immediately stepped into water, and decided that this was Not Good (which not everyone did, so good for him). His cabin is in the bow, so one of the first to be flooded.

He goes outside, encounters two sailors that shout "All up on deck! Unless you want to get drowned!". He also testifies that he went up on deck, then back down, and back up again before being given a lifejacket by a first class passenger.

When further asked, he does say that guys he thinks were sailors "tried to keep us down at first on our steerage deck. They did not want us to go up to the first class place at all". When asked whether there "was any effort made on part of the officers or crew to hold the steerage passengers in the steerage?" he says that "[he does] not think so".

Little bit of a contradiction at first glance.

However, there's a pretty logical explanation: the stewards and sailors wanted them to go up, but they wanted them to go up quickly and safely. Having passengers stream into the first class areas would not be beneficial, they did not know their way around and would most likely get lost, Titanic was a maze. We have examples like Minnie Coutts stating that she got lost and couldn’t find her way until a sailor guided her up.

The stewards were most likely trying to get the third class passengers to their own deck space, from where they could just walk up to the boat deck. This would also have the added benefit of having them go towards the stern, away from the flooding.

However, there's panic and confusion around (more in Third Class then elsewhere, since their compartments actually started to flood early) and a lot of the third class doesn't speak English. There were also only around 50 third class stewards for hundreds of passengers, and a handful of them were ordered to help out on the boat deck to launch the lifeboats early on.

So it's understandable that some situations may have arisen where Third Class passengers were held back from going through the first class spaces, not out of malicious intent, but actually in an attempt to get them up safely.

Not a lot of the third class stewards survived, so we obviously can't be sure, but we know that John Edward Hart took "his" passengers up personally for exactly those reasons, as did Albert Pearcy. They also both testify that the Chief Steward of the Third Class, James Kieran, ordered them to collect passengers and take them up.

We also have other third class passengers stating that to their knowledge, no passengers in steerage were prevented from going on (Berck Pickard, Olaus Abelseth).

There’s also often the idea that the rich passengers on board were given priority at the lifeboats. That is not the case, pretty much the sole factor up there was gender. It’s all over the inquiries, they’ll always mention how a crew men told them to get in, or how there were no women around at all. Dickinson H Bishop, Henry Blank and others were accused of dressing up as women to get into the boats or otherwise bribing their way in. If you were a man and had the audacity to survive, you better have a damn good reason for it.

We also have multiple very, very rich people dying. John Jacob Astor (at that point one of the richest men in the world with a net worth of over 2 billion), Isidore and Ida Straus (she refused to leave the ship without him), Benjamin Guggenheim, Archibald Butt (who was a close friend to president Taft) and his supposed boyfriend/partner/”[his] artist friend who lives with [him]” Francis Davis Millet. If there was priority given to the First Class/rich passengers, they were doing a bad job.

"They didn't see the ice berg because of the missing binoculars"

The famous missing binoculars. Remember officer David Blair, who was assigned elsewhere last minute since Wilde was pulled over from the Olympic? The story is that in his haste to leave Titanic, he accidentally took the keys for the locker that housed the binoculars intended for the lookouts with him. Fleet and Lee, the lookouts at the time of the collision, thus were unable to see the iceberg in time.

Now, there's actually quite a few oddities in this story. The whole idea that Blair took the key with him mostly originates from the testimony of another lookout, George Hogg, who said that "Mr. Blair was in the crow's-nest and gave me his glasses, and told me to lock them up in his cabin and to return him the keys." and that then there were "none [in the crow's nest] when we left Southampton.".

We then have George Symons, yet another lookout (Titanic had six who covered shifts in pairs), testifying that after they left Southampton, he went and asked Lightoller for binoculars, who told him that "there are none", which Lightoller backs up here.

Blair was supposed to be the second officer, replaced by Lightoller (who got bumped down from first). However, we know that Lightoller had access to binoculars. Meaning that even if Blair took his keys with him, Lightoller either had his own key or managed to procure a replacement.

We also know that there were multiple pairs on board, "A pair for each Senior Officer and the Commander, and one pair for the Bridge, commonly termed pilot glasses". Meaning if the lookouts seriously needed some, they could have been loaned some, especially since there'd only be one senior officer "on watch" at any given time.

This also makes it clear that there were no dedicated binoculars for the lookouts, a fact that is backed up by both the Marine Superintendent of the White Star line here when describing the contents of the box in the crow's nests. We also have multiple captains testifying on whether they consider binoculars essential, which might explain why they weren't usually supplied:

No, I do not. - Captain Richard Jones I never heard of it until I read it in the paper the other day. We have never had them - I never have. - Captain Frederick Passow My Lord, I do not believe in any look-out man having glasses at all. I only believe in the Officer using them, and then only when something has been reported in a certain quarter or certain place on the bow. - Sir Ernest Shackelton, Artic Explorer

Now, why is that the case? Binoculars were considered to be useful in identifying an object once they were spotted, and as Lightoller puts it: "[The lookout] might be able to identify it, but we do not wish him to identify it. All we want him to do is to strike the bells.”

It seems like binoculars were sometimes issued on White Star Line ships (Hogg testified that he had used them on the White Star Line’s Adriatic, but no other ship), but that it "[was] a matter of opinion for the officer on watch."

We also have multiple lookouts testifying that binoculars would, by their best judgment, not have helped Fleet and Lee spot it earlier since binoculars were not used for that:

Not much of a help to pick anything up; but to make it out afterwards, they were. - Thomas Jones "Do you mean you believe in your own eyesight better than you do in the glasses? Yes - George Hogg Yes. You use your own eyes as regards the picking up anything, but you want the glasses then to make certain of that object. - George Symons

"A fire weakend Titanic's hulls, which caused it to fail"

This old chestnut. I say old, but it's a "theory" originating in the 1990s. The idea is that there was a raging coal fire that heavily damaged the Titanic, proven by black smudges on a handful of pictures.

Now, it is true that there was a coal fire on the Titanic. This was fairly common in ocean liners at the time, due to the ridiculous amount of coal on board occasionally spontaneously combusting (fun) and there were procedures in place to deal with it.

The coal was stored in bunkers within the boiler rooms, see here, specifically to separate them out a bit. The boiler rooms (and other parts of the ships) were separated into watertight compartments divided by watertight bulkheads and doors.

The bulkheads were made of fairly thick steel and able to hold hundreds of tons of water. The coal bunkers themselves were made out of thinner steel, since they only needed to hold the coal itself, not water.

The fire on the Titanic happened in bunker Y in boiler room 6, presumably right when she left port. We know this because men were shoveling out coal both out of bunker Y and bunker W, the adjoining bunker on the other side of the watertight bulkhead in boiler room 5.

Ironically enough, that specific bunker was the last one that just got nicked by the iceberg, dooming the ship (if it had stayed intact Titanic probably would have floated along). The bunkers, as I said, were not made watertight. So when bunker W was flooded, the steel eventually failed and flooded boiler room 6 completely.

We can glean this both from recreations of the damage and the testimony of chief fireman Frederick Barrett, who was actually in boiler room 6 when it started flooding.

The "fire theory" states that the fire warped the bulkheads, which caused them to fail. To warp the bulkheads seriously, the fire would have had to burn at over 1000 degrees Fahrenheit/537 degrees celsius, probably hotter, which would then cause the rivets used to fasten the steel together to fail.

Directly above the fire was the First Class Swimming Pool, which would have heated up considerably if it sat above a raging inferno. One might find it hard to believe that a boiling pool would have been described as "heated to a refreshing temperature" and that "in no swimming bath had [he] ever enjoyed such a pleasure before" by Archibald Gracie.

Now we do know that there was a small "ding" in the bulkhead, according to Barrett, but that was small enough to just be painted over and investigated by the chief engineer, who deemed it to be no issue. And as previously stated, we can be pretty certain that the coal bunker burst, not the watertight bulkhead.

There's also the very simple fact that the smudge in the photograph is actually located above a bunch of third class cabins and a good fifty feet away from the coal bunkers & boilers, but oh well.

#titanic #actually someone ask me about the break because yes they didn't believe the folks who said she broke NO it wasn't bcs of misogyny pls #this is long and i still didn't mention the switch theory at all pls give me a cookie #thanks again to lauren for proof-reading <3 #tina rambles #also someone ask me about the actual human stories on the titanic bcs i wanna talk about daniel buckley being hidden away

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dove-da-birb · 10 months

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Meet Antonio Salieri

Picrew | Picrew does not belong to me

Antonio Salieri

The ‘poisoner’ of Mozart. Antonio is reserved, and cunning, and will do about anything ti make sure he gets his way. Mozart avoids him at all costs. Smells like almonds. Aloof cat, not outright mean, but not friendly. - My OG notes about him but I heavily revised this.

He rolls his eyes at people who insist he’s a poisoner, and also does not appreciate that a syndrome was coined after his name; Salieri syndrome, a person in power who appears to be helping, but is only subverting their success. But he pays them no mind, and continues with his business. “Be careful with him, don’t you smell the almonds? That’s cyanide dear.” No, no it’s not, he was just baking earlier.

He lives in a modest apartment above a bakery which he owns. He does the odd performance now and then, but years of trying for fame has taken a toll on his passion for performing music.

Voice Claim; Kaname Futaba

Birthday; August 18

Height; 176 cm

Occupation; Composer, teacher, and director of the Italian opera

Hobbies; Playing violin and baking

Dislikes; Liars

Specialty; Playing the harpsichord

Weakness; Creative block

Favourite food; Almond thumbprint cookies

Hated food; Grapefruit

Vampire Type; Lesser vampire

Animal Companion; an African grey parrot named Gluck

Some History [wikipedia again; lots of info so I condensed it]

He was taught how to play music by his older brother, Francesco and ran away from home on two occasions so he could hear his older brother play in festivals. Antonio was once reprimanded by his father because he didn’t pay the proper respect to a priest, and Antonio’s reasoning for this is that the priest’s organ playing displeased him. He does not remember much of his childhood save for his love of reading, music, and sugar.

He quickly rose into the opera scene, and his works pushed against traditional opera styles, and added his own style into them. His works were mainly inspired by classic literature and dramas. His first large success in the opera sphere was with his Armida which featured a conflict of love and duty, steeped with magic, and set during the First Crusade. Many of his operas were either large successes or raised little attention.

When Joseph II came into power, Salieri slipped out of the spotlight, as all operas were to be in German, a language that he had truly never mastered. He did find success in the Parisian opera scene with his Les Danaïdes, inspired by the ancient Greek tragedy writer Aeschylus’s The Suppliants. It was so successful that it was kept on the opera scene in Paris for over forty years.

As for the ‘poisoner of Mozart’ title, there is no hard evidence that Antonio murdered Mozart, and the two were most likely respectful of each other. But he has no time for rumours and rolls his eyes at them.

Present

He is cunning, but also painfully honest as he cannot stand lies. He does try his best to achieve his goals, but unfortunately, his work is either a success or never takes off, which disheartens him. At least people seem to enjoy his baking. He and Mozart don't really talk and tend to avoid each other, but Salieri at least gives him a polite nod whenever he sees the other musician out and about. He seems aloof at first, but when he trusts you he becomes a tad warmer and teases you... but he doesn't realize it's teasing.

Tagging; @azulashengrottospiano

#ikevamp oc #antonio salieri #ikemen vampire oc #antonio is honestly the most sane option out of the ikevamp ocs i got #he can play you music; bake for you; call you italian pet names; also has a large library in his apartment #i decided to make him malewife/bbg material; you're welcome #bro will infodump about his interests if you give him the go ahead #aloof cat is secretly very sweet #looks at his partner like they hung the moon and stars #your move auburn #also a TWST VA but this time jamil's so he can also sing

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cantsayidont · 1 month

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Some movies of the early '00s, good, bad, and indifferent:

THE SWEETEST THING (2002): Enthusiastically raunchy but extremely dumb romcom starring Cameron Diaz, Christina Applegate, and Selma Blair as three 20something friends supporting each other through various sexual and romantic misadventures. Not without charm, but too sloppily written to really land except in fits and starts, and the weak plot, which focuses on the Diaz character's disastrous pursuit of a hunky real estate agent (Thomas Jane), sidelines both Applegate and Blair so completely that they might just as well have been condensed into a single character. However, it is occasionally very funny, with the highlight being a hilarious musical number entitled "Your Penis Is…" CONTAINS LESBIANS? Not even as a concept. VERDICT: Your life will be no poorer if you tune out after the musical number, but don't miss that.

HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG (2003): Slow-moving, moody, downbeat drama about the battle of wills between depressed white divorcée Kathy Nicolo (Jennifer Connelly), whose house has been wrongfully seized and auctioned off by the county, and the buyer, exiled Iranian military officer Massoud Behrani (Ben Kingsley), who moves in with his wife (Shohreh Aghdashloo) and teenage son (Jonathan Ahdout) and refuses to sell the house back to the county for less than four times what he paid for it. (With the skyrocketing cost of real estate since the film's release, hearing those amounts may cause physical pain.) Now broke and homeless, Kathy falls into a relationship with a married local sheriff's deputy (Ron Eldard), whose attempts to "help" by bullying and terrorizing Behrani into cooperating lead to tragedy. A strange story that spends a lot of time alternately cultivating and then deliberately puncturing viewer sympathy for the characters, and which seems unusually determined to avoid examining the larger social and structural forces that are actually driving the plot. Connelly and Kingsley are effective; Aghashloo is boxed in by her thankless, rather condescending supporting part as Behrani's timid wife Nadi, who barely speaks English and lives in mortal terror of being sent back to Iran — a far cry from her later role as cunning, sharp-tongued politician Chrisjen Avasarala on THE EXPANSE. CONTAINS LESBIANS? Not at all. VERDICT: Well-made, but very heavy going, and the last half hour (which is a real downer) is troubling on several levels.

BOARDING GATE (2007): Customarily oblique Olivier Assayas crime drama, in some ways reminiscent of a William Gibson story (though it's not based on one), about a sleazy businessman (Michael Madsen) confronting his soon-to-be-former mistress Sandra (Asia Argento), whose sexual favors he has previously exploited to gather intelligence on business partners and rivals, and who now wants to break things off for good. That meeting is just one strand in a more complex web of betrayal and vengeance involving Sandra and her new employers (Carl Ng and Kelly Lin), who each have their own agendas. The terse, gritty, sometimes lurid story can be tricky to follow at points because Assayas deliberately avoids ever pulling back to present a larger picture of what's going on or revealing much about the actual nature of the characters' business, and the jittery, desaturated cinematography seems calculated to keep viewers disoriented. The problem is that the film also holds the characters at arm's length, making it hard to care what happens to them, and the ending succumbs to Gibsonian anticlimax, leaving it unclear what the point was supposed to be. That it works at all is due mostly to Argento, whose smoldering performance is the main thing holding the film together. CONTAINS LESBIANS? By implication only. (Sandra describes a reluctant past encounter with a woman who doesn't actually appear in the story.) VERDICT: The story's self-imposed limitations tend to smother its virtues, although in stretches, the movie feels more like a William Gibson story than most actual William Gibson adaptations.

THE HEART IS DECEITFUL ABOVE ALL THINGS (2004/2006): Sordid, thoroughly unappetizing drama based on the 2001 short-story collection by "JT LeRoy," adapted by Asia Argento and Alessandro Magania and directed by and starring Argento herself, her second feature directing effort. (The movie debuted at Cannes about two years before "LeRoy" was revealed to be a fiction created by Laura Albert, although that revelation limited the film's eventual theatrical release in 2006.) The film is an episodic chronicle of several nightmarish years in the life of a boy named Jeremiah (played at different points by Jimmy Bennett, Dylan Sprouse, and Cole Sprouse), who after spending his early life in foster care ends up back in the custody of his erratic, self-absorbed, wildly irresponsible mother Sarah (Argento). After Jeremiah is sexually assaulted by one of his mother's awful boyfriends (Jeremy Renner), he's ineffectually counseled by a useless social worker (Wynonna Ryder, appearing unbilled) and placed in the custody of his Jesus-freak grandparents (Peter Fonda and Ornella Muti), who are no less cruel or abusive in their own ways. Sarah later "rescues" Jeremiah, encourages him to cross-dress to pose as her younger sister — leading to his being assaulted by another of Sarah's terrible boyfriends (Marilyn Manson) — and then moves them in a run-down house with a meth lab in the basement. The public interest in this very unpleasant material, which is a veritable anthology of child abuse and frequently difficult to watch, was ostensibly driven by the notion that it was based on real events of "LeRoy's" life. With that pretense revealed as a fraud, what's left is a distasteful appetite for the self-consciously lurid, to which Argento's main contribution is the gusto with which she embraces an especially unsympathetic maternal role. Even that was rendered all the more unpalatable by the subsequent allegations of Jimmy Bennett, who reported in 2018 that when he was 17 (about 10 years after this film was made), Argento sexually assaulted him in a California hotel room. Argento's DARVO response squandered all of her remaining goodwill and permanently consigned this already hard-to-stomach movie to the "Morbid Curiosities" file. CONTAINS LESBIANS? No, and aside from the point. VERDICT: Unpleasant content, fraudulent premise, too many creeps. Very strong CW for CSA and other forms of child abuse.

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clairaworlds · 2 months

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now that I'm home I can elaborate on Dune: Part Two. In case anyone was wondering, here's a quick spoiler-free review: it was really good. I really liked it, but that's coming from someone who has read Dune, started on messiah, and has had a lot of conversations with a certified mega-fan (read all of Frank Herbert's stuff and quite a few of the others as well) if you're familiar with the book(s), it's really good. It changes some stuff but I honestly think it does so out of necessity, and because a movie is a different medium than a book. It really plays to the strengths of what a movie can do. also, it's gorgeous. if you haven't read the books it's still a really good movie and decently approachable (provided you've watched the first one) but I think some things are... easy to miss if you don't have book knowledge. this is not positive nor negative, it's just a thing. it's also my personal opinion that it's probably uhh an easier transition to read the book first and then watch the movie. I wouldn't know I finished Dune about a year ago it's just what I suspect. ok, spoilers below so don't go further than this if you're avoiding them.

the movie was so good, as I said above, there were a lot of changes, I honestly liked most of them, it's a LONG movie, but it feels dense, and almost a little rushed at times because there's SO MUCH it has to fit into one place. The movie does a decent job of fitting everything into the story but there are a few moments where it does struggle. It's sort of hard to truly explain my stance because even some of the things that weren't necessarily my favorite I can understand why they were like that. For example, Alia is my favorite character in Dune and she wasn't even in the book that much, I was extremely sad that she didn't get to stab anyone. She's my favorite freak of nature. That said, I can understand why she wasn't there, I don't think that scene would have had the same flow if she got to commit murder. If it were up to me, I probably wouldn't have condensed the thing into a less than 9-month time span (as Alia hasn't been born yet) but it's not the worst thing and I don't really mind. I was SO happy Gurney got to sing/play I missed that so much in the first one (I really like Gurney).

I, personally thought chani and pauls relationship was really good, the symbolism of her little blue ribbon was really fun. Also, the fact that she stands in defiance of the prophecy set by the Bene Gesserit while simultaneously being a part of it is cool to watch. It's a little less clear what's happening with that if you're not familiar with the books but if you are it's great.

Irulan got to do some things, which in my opinion is really cool. I felt so bad for her at the end of the first book. She's still not in a great place but at least she got to do some stuff.

I liked Jessica being weird and creepy and muttering to her psychic daughter the whole movie. To be honest I wasn't super with it at first but it ended up being fun.

all of the house Harkonnen stuff RULED. like the aesthetics, the vibes, the black and white, the fireworks that looked like drops of blood, the fight scene. it was amazing. I was LIVING for it. why do I want Feyd-Rautha's outfit (from the fight scene) with its long dramatic tastles and cool shapes? Honestly, a lot of the Harkonnen outfits ruled. a lot of the outfits in general ruled. Irulan's weird dimand dress was neat. I loved the beading on her headdress.

sandwalking is still awesome and I loved to see it. every time a Freemen jumped out of the sand I was grinning like a maniack. they were terrifying in a way that's hard to explain. it was awesome to watch.

ok, getting into some of the more serious stuff. The moment where Paul goes to the South and accepts his role is.... just... the way they shot it. the music that played. the terror in Chani's eyes. It was really good. they played it like a tragedy and a work of horror. you were not supposed to look upon this moment with joy or reverence. it felt like something that would--- that could--- only end badly. it was exactly the right feeling for that moment. Paul could never be anything other than a tragic figure, and this moment, this moment where he decides to accept it, that was very much the start of the end. (from a certain point of view, from another, it's been crashing down for a while now, and this was just another step towards oblivion) There are no heroes in Dune, and this moment did not feel heroic. In almost any other movie, any other story, this would be a victory, a moment where the leader steps into their role and rallies their troops. The fact that this moment is horrifying shows me just how much respect this movie gives to its source.

Not only that but the battle at the end had direct parallels to the battle in the first movie. running the opposite direction, and this time our characters are the attackers. It felt epic to see the sandworms and the troops on top of them (also the sand riding scene was fun) then, it turned right back around as the brutality of the attack was emphasized. it felt like watching a massacre because it was. it was supposed to remind you of what happened to Leto and the others. Leto might not have believed in revenge, but his son does. There are no heroes in Dune. there never could have been.

the ornithopters continue to be epic to see on a massive screen. The movie also sounded amazing.

that's most of what I have to say for right now. overall, it was a great movie. I was originally a little nervous to go back in a theater, considering last time it did not go well, but I don't regret this for a second. like all movies you see in theaters it's LOULD, and fairly bright (although I've seen much more blinding movies) I'm decently noise-sensitive and EXTREMELY photosensitive (I don't get seizures or anything, but bright lights will almost always trigger a migraine) I brought a pair of ear-plugs and I could still hear perfectly, although I do have a nasty migraine so there's that. Honestly, this is just a hazard of me seeing literally anything in a theater so I don't blame the movie itself. I wish I could go to theaters without pain, but we don't often get what we wish for. Still, I had fun, and I'd go see it again, so this movie is officially worth the migraine.

#dune #dune movie #dune part two #dune part 2

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acherontiarchivist · 1 year

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Status Update: Koi No Yokan

Ok everyone, progress report is Koi No Yokan will soon be leaving hiatus. I have given a lot of thought about where I want it to go from here, and honestly I am dying to get the plot I had planned out for it really rolling. At first I wanted to take more time with the slowburn romance, but more than pining I want to cultivate the feeling of fear and anxiety. Yes, there will still be romance, obviously, and lots of smut! But fear has been a driving force with me creatively lately, and I am dying to get that ball rolling more with the plot that i have planted the seeds for, and also so I can move on to other fic ideas. (I have plans for a gabirel fic and a danny johnson fic in the works). There is an end in sight for koi no yokan, but fear not, it is not near, only hovering the horizon. I haven't completely figured out how exactly I want to end it yet. It could go two ways– a good end, fuzzy and romantic and comforting, and a bad end, with loss and tragedy and fear of what is to come. I'm honestly leaning towards the bad end, but that's where the readers come in (that's you)! As it stands I have seven chapters outlined and more to go, and a few chapters partially written. I'm not quite sure how many chapters are left truthfully, if I had to hazard a guess I'd say 10-15, including the chapters I've outlined.

As a thanks for waiting so long, I'll post a little teaser from the next chapter under the cut

(Also, sorry for the long post)

Two glasses of ginger ale sit patiently on the table, collecting condensation. You try not to sweat as much, nervously biting at your nails, wondering how to best bring up the night you came home naturally. Sure, he was occupied for a few days riding a wave of inspiration, you've been there, you could understand that. But was he really? Could that just have been an excuse? He is certainly taking a long time to bring over a few sketches and paintings. Maybe he didn't really have anything to show for his excuse.

A bead of water drips down the glass and collects onto the wooden coaster, captivating your vacant stare. Steady, rapid klinks begin to overlay the fizzy bubbles of the drinks. You worry that Selina's message on her business card pressured him to move more quickly than he was ready for. Was he really going to confess his feelings for you that night, or did he dig himself into a hole and spend the last three days hiding from the mess he made? Either way, you just want to make things right. You can't keep fighting the heavy weight bearing down on your chest, the sense of guilt that has shackled your ankles since he left your house in a hurry with a slam of your front door. God, why do you always do this? You're catastrophizing again, you worry yourself too much. Maybe it's a habit picked up from the constant paranoia that plagued your not so distant past.

Keys release the deadbolt, knocking you out of your spiral just in time. Vincent peers around the door carrying a large, aged leather portfolio. You dart your hand away from your mouth and sit on them both to avoid the scolding for picking up that nervous habit again. "Hi, Vinny," you smile, trying not to look too perturbed.

He approaches your side and places the portfolio flat on the table. When he gets situated on the couch, he places one hand on your knee, steadying your bouncing leg and ceasing the hypnotic klinking noise. How long have you been bouncing your leg?

"Sorry," you look down to the floor out of disappointment in yourself. His thumb rubs your knee as a soothing gesture and you fight back a blush. "So, you gonna open this baby up or what?" You try to sound more chipper and meet his stare with a lopsided smile, letting your hair fall over your face slightly.

Vincent hesitates momentarily before nodding and leaning over to gingerly untie the bound leather. He takes in a heavy breath to brave himself for what he has no doubt is the serious embarrassment and rejection to come, then almost half heartedly flips the top wing of the portfolio over to reveal the sketches and paintings he had spilled his heart into underneath. The couch creaks under his weight as he retreats back into the couch and releases a breath he didn't know he was holding onto. His hand reaches out to grab your own, but goes unnoticed as you sink to the floor on your knees.

You can't believe what you see spread out on the table before you. Countless loose sketch papers spill from the portfolio, pushed to the floor and falling in your lap as you grab each one and examine it briefly before taking in the next. You. They're all you. Some you can tell are drawn from memories the two of you share– you at the dinner table, laughing with Bo and Lester, you celebrating your miraculous win at a game of pool, you cooking breakfast in the Sinclair's kitchen. Shaky breaths fight to enter your lungs, all the while your chest rising sporadically.

Composure threatens to slip your grasp. Finally, you try to neatly gather them and set them aside from the oil painting that laid beneath the piles of paper. A woman stands in a dark forest, the full moon a halo behind her head. She holds antlers on top of her head and three wolves lay by her feet. This, you realize, is you as well. Your back meets the couch as you try to process it all. All of the words slip your mind, as if you've suddenly forgotten to speak English. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing escapes the void.

Vincent can hear his own heart beating in the silence of the room, threatening to deafen him, even drive him mad. He can't take it, he knows what's coming. His leg twitches as he decides to get up, leave and run away, to never turn back, to lock himself away in his safe place and never see the light of day again. But something happens, something he didn't quite expect.

As soon as you feel him move, your hand almost instinctively meets his knee as if to freeze him to the spot. Now the only sounds occupying the space are his wavering breaths hitting cold wax and the loud pulse that you could no longer tell whether it was his or your own. For the first time in a long time, Vincent finds himself fighting back tears. You swear you could almost hear him whimpering as you pull yourself onto the couch, sitting on your knees and facing him. "Vincent," you whisper and stare at the rise and fall of his chest, unable to make eye contact, still trying to work up the courage.

"Vincent, the other night, I thought I–" you take a deep breath and look him in the eye, "I thought I really fucked up. I thought I had pushed you to– I don't know, rush things I guess?"

He looks at you, unmoving, waiting. You shake your head and look at your hands, picking at a hangnail. "Fuck, I guess I still could be jumping the gun here," you laugh nervously. "Vinny, I just have to hear it from you, okay? Before you run away and hide again and avoid me and leave me a nervous wreck. Please, just tell me if I'm reading into this too much," you gesture to the pages littering your living room. No response from him still, only his grip tightening on the arm of the couch, threatening to rip the upholstery.

"I need to know you want me, too." It comes out as a whisper, tailed by a halted gasp that slips past his lips. Time stops for just a moment between you two, no movement, not a sound. You almost admit defeat and begin to nod your head and turn away, but a strong, calloused hand meets the side of your face and returns it to its previous position, now met with the smooth texture of his mask pressing against your skin. His right arm snakes around you to hold you steady against his chest by the back of the neck, sending Shivers down your spine. His grasp is firm, but not rough, you feel his other arm moving outside of your periphery, then you hear a clatter on the end table directly behind you. You close your eyes, partially because you know that's what he would want and partially as a reaction from his hot breath meeting the bare skin of your neck. His lips ghost your ear and you swear you can almost hear some semblance of 'want you' in his breath before he pulls back to kiss you once again.

#vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #house of wax (2005)#slasher fucker #slasher x reader #koi no yokan fic #post content

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