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gerdy-sertorius · 28 days

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The Definitive Damsel Analysis (if I do say so myself)

(Disclaimer: I know it’s absurdly long, and for that I apologize. I apparently am more unwilling to make cuts than I am to present subpar work. I’m working on it. Only editing I do for my autistic ramblings is copyediting, baby! Whoo! I will be updating this for the Pristine Cut once it comes out and we get even *more* Damsel. Obviously, as I’m sure you can tell from the length, I really like Damsel. There will be all of the bias. It will be great.)

(Author’s Note: For the love of the most high God, it took me like twenty read throughs for me to standardize what I wanted to call the Scorched Grey. Here is a brief list of all the terms I used to refer to her: Scorched Grey, Burned Grey, Burning Grey, Fire Grey, Damsel Chapter 3. Sometimes but not always preceded by “the” or “The”.)

Alright, ladies and gentlemen. I have oft made the statement on here that Damsel is the best route in the game, and this began as me trying to definitively prove that, by microscopically going through the route, I could establish exactly why, it would seem, that Damsel has objective superiority. It sorta… evolved, though, so instead I will be going relatively chronologically throughout, and trying to point out a couple things that all of you know about and maybe a couple things you don’t about the best character in the game. With that preamble out of the way, let’s begin with the goofy stuff, the grab bag if you will.

This will certainly be more personal taste than anything else, but I do think there’s a lot of miscellaneous stuff that Damsel does better than the other chapters. For example, I am convinced that it has the third best music, behind Tower and her routes and then Thorn. I am genuinely obsessed with “It Was Always That Easy”. The basement has some *fantastic* art, and I think that really carries a chapter that is otherwise generally bland when it comes to actual visual activity. It’s really carried by its genuinely perfect dialogue.

Overall, and most importantly, this chapter is the undisputed master of the idea of positive ambience. You know elevator music? How it’s there to artificially increase the cheeriness of an otherwise dreary moment, like a hotel hallway or, yanno, an elevator? Well, this is the chapter that does it perfectly. Everything is designed to make it “nicer” than it actually is. The Narrator even takes that into account when describing the basement. The sound design is fresh and relaxing, the music is uplifting, the Princess’s voice is obviously fantastically done, but also the Voice of the Smitten plays a large role in making it feel “good”. It’s something that exists in order to communicate exactly the feelings it wants the player to feel, which is all warm and fuzzy inside. But let’s move on to the actual content, shall we?

Damsel has *the* best Chapter One and it isn’t even close. Certainly not in the horror department, where I think Beast and Nightmare shine, or even in the whole characterization bit, where the award can only go to Spectre and the masterclass that is her Chapter One. But Damsel has something else to it. Damsel has tragedy, almost Shakespearean in nature. Nobody else has it (except Witch, to some extent, but nowhere close to the same level), nobody manages to reach that connection, there and then broken, to honestly feel for both Princess and Slayer. Allow me to paint a picture of a playthrough.

You are on a path in the woods. At the end of that path is a cabin. In the basement of that cabin is a princess. You are here to slay her. But you don’t do that. That voice itching in the back of your skull, the one you quite literally call Hero, your moral compass even, raises some objections. You don’t want to kill *anybody*. That isn’t something you want to mark yourself with, especially not solely on the word of an individual you just met. For now, violence is a nonstarter.

You enter the cabin. And you hear her voice. And you see her. You even talk with her for a while. The moment is… hypnotizing. Despite the Narrator’s warning of manipulation, well, you cannot help but be manipulated. This is a genuinely nice, sweet, scared Princess who simply wants to be free. You have to save her. It is the right thing to do, it is the… only thing to do. Anything else marks you with the dirtiness of simply being unwilling to help someone in need when you had the full ability to.

You go to get a key. Unsuccessful. The door locks. Even worse. The Narrator is moving from irritating to downright malicious, clearly enjoying recounting the lock of the door. Disgust for Him has been present since you entered the cabin, but it shifts to anger very quickly. That shift continues with full force as you attempt with what little ability you have to save the Princess, even if you don’t quite know how you will get out. The question does not last long. For the shift to anger shifts once more, to a sort of incomprehensible fury.

For the Narrator has crossed a line. Not only has he taken away any semblance of choice, not only has he raised your own knife against an innocent, someone who has been nothing but kind to you, but you are the one who must bear the shame for it. You are the only one who is doing the foul deed in any eyes but your own. Speaking of, the Princess’s eyes are filled with genuine happiness at the moment, as you are finally giving her the freedom she has yearned for such a long time. Yet through no fault of your own, you raise the pristine blade, the one you refused to bring down to the basement in the first place. You scramble through the list of options, attempting to find anything that could provide a sliver of hope in the situation, anything without the grim finality of “Slay the Princess”.

At last, you find one, and are able to bark out a warning to the Princess. That happiness in her eyes is shifted to a look of fear, one directed at you alone, one condemning you with such a sorrowful betrayal that it almost hurts to see. She begs for you to stop, and then she says something that almost calms the internal storm of the player: “Please, I know this isn’t you.” She recognizes that it isn’t us that betrayed her, she understands that we aren’t trying to do this, that we are flat-out trying to stop it. But the eye of that storm is passing, and soon.

And as she takes the blade, as she prepares to do what she must to live, that same look of tragic betrayal crosses her eyes, this time not directed at us, but at herself. She hates that this is her only option, the only way that she can live is to kill another, one with every intention of freeing her and no intention of harming her. And in the end, she simultaneously underscores the tragedy of the moment while confirming our perception that she could never be a threat to the world. As she plunges the blade into our chest, she has failed to even do the bare minimum of making our death painless, something that fills her with even more guilt, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tries and fails to end our own agony. The last thing we see of her are her endless cascade of both tears and apologies, as everything goes dark.

This… is beautiful. A glorious tragedy, one with limited theming, simply two characters with emotions that feel natural. And, quite strangely, the first chapter has almost nothing to do with the second chapter. But it is still important. I’ll get to that later. Better things await now! For with the end of the tale of the Hero and the Princess, we have a new individual, everyone’s favorite buddy, the Voice of the Smitten.

I am certain I do not need to underscore just how popular Smitten is. Easily the most fan favorite of the fan favorites, especially solidifying his place within that roster with the Kiss from a Thorn. He is jovial, passionate, he is Don Quixote, complete with the unlimited self-delusion that comes with the territory. There’s a reason people love him. Romantic in a game entitled a love story, the largest of personalities in a game stuffed with them, he is the storybook hero come to life in a game that has just as much reverence for storybook heroes as the deconstructions of them. In short, he is the visage of likability itself, with all the bombast that comes with that. Yet that is only from a wholly external perspective.

For what I am certain I do need to underscore is just how sinister Smitten is. For all of his likability, the Smitten is also probably the single slimiest voice out of all of them with the possible exception of the Opportunist. This is not a new revelation – people have understood that since the beginning with his frankly disturbing behavior regarding the Princess. What is perhaps more interesting is his relationship with the player. For he is one of the two options that reflect the player at this point within the story. Either the player is trying to do the right thing and free an innocent, or they have somewhat… different motivations.

The former reflects the Hero. Somewhat naive, in many routes somewhat bumbling even, but first and foremost focused on the external. That is, “how can I make a positive impact on the world around me?” As contradictory as it may seem to how the Hero is presented, it’s something of an intellectualist approach. The Hero is trying to find the best possible world and working towards that with all of his might. It is, one could say, devoid of emotion except that determination to change the world, to make it a better place. While the goal remains the same, the path to get there is fundamentally continuously being calculated. The Hero is your conscience, and as such he must *always* work overtime for that.

The Smitten is not that. No, he has made no secret that he is the path of passion. Even when he is generally considered to be a better person, he declares that, “Whatever world would condemn two star-crossed lovers to a cycle of violence and despair isn’t a world worth saving.” His focus is internal, it is on ourself and our romance. There is no extensive study into what is the correct option, there is only what would assist in our relationship, which is somehow ordained by the universe. To put it into understandable terms, Hero is a modern hero while Smitten is a Romantic-era hero.

There’s an important line when going down the stairs that I think speaks volumes about the type of player and playthrough currently occurring. That is “We can still do right by her without all this over-the-top fawning.” *That* is the line of demarcation between the route of the Hero and the route of the Smitten. If you decide to embrace or repudiate the Smitten at that point, I think the route is sealed. I am convinced that the game will continue on in a fixed way based on that philosophy. The point where you must, internally that is, decide if you are doing this out of a desire for what is right, or an infatuation with the Princess.

Now, of course there isn’t anything wrong with taking the path of the Smitten, and it’s personally one of my top points in the game, but whether you admit it or not, you are long past morality being what decides your actions. That has come and gone. Now, the goal is to express the passion of the moment and delve into your romantic relationship with the Princess. I’ll be evaluating each of the routes differently, loosely organized with a focus on how it reacts to the player. After that, I’ll go on into theming of each route one by one and all that jazz.

The path of the Smitten first. The player embraces that he has been sent to save the Princess from her unjust and foul imprisonment above all else. So that is what he does. He marches downstairs, the blade being nothing but a passing afterthought as it is immediately dismissed out of hand. When it comes to the crucial point of “doing right by her”, the justification is made that two things can be done at once, that you can do this for her and do a little bit of fawning on the way. Doesn’t harm anyone.

And with that the basement arrives, and you see the Princess on the floor. She is perfect in all ways. There is nothing wrong with her. And that’s before you start talking to her. When you do begin talking to her, all of the kindness and innocence from Chapter 1 are magnified to the greatest degree possible. She can do no wrong. And, from a meta standpoint, there’s another thing that stands out – it is really, *really* funny. From everything the Smitten says to the “Then I didn’t end the world!” to the Narrator’s (a villain at this point) growing exasperation at your trust for the Princess, it endears you to the moment even more.

Because it’s not only that it’s funny. It’s not only that the Princess is genuinely nice to you. It’s something more than that. Something that I am loath to talk about but will anyway. The Princess is incredibly – *sigh* – **cute** within this chapter. This is objective, with science to back me up, I’m sure. But she is specifically designed to be as heartwarming as possible, and every line makes her more and more into someone who should be saved by you, into, well, a Damsel. While it isn’t explicitly stated, throughout the progression of dialogue, the need to protect her becomes more pronounced. You were already primed to like the Princess, you already internally committed to a romantic future. But after stepping into the bear trap willingly, you cannot escape.

And if you’re anything like me, you are perfectly fine with that. So you take in the moment, you rescue her from her chains and laugh at the way her hands slipped out of the chains and the Narrator’s comical anger at it. It’s all very feel-good, all cleanly written dialogue, and both the Princess and the Smitten are likable, they’re fun, and the Narrator is a fun enough villain for the Smitten and you to unite against. The Hero, if we’re being honest, barely registers, and if he does it’s usually as an extension to the Narrator, as a foil to yourself. And with her finally free, she embraces you, sealing the deal on her perfection.

And after that, something else happens. The deconstruction begins. You want to see if her dialogue has any more of that saccharine present throughout the rest of the chapter, and are immediately rewarded with the “The princess closes her eyes in deep reflection” and the follow up joke. Hungry for more, you click through some more of the dialogue, but something begins to happen. She begins to… unwind. The Smitten seems to reciprocate in turn, to a lesser extent. In fact, she really starts to return to the horror that this chapter was a nice respite from. So you cut your losses, decide to leave with her, and everything returns to normal. Bathed in the glow of your future, you immediately forget about the deconstruction.

After that, you finally get out of the basement, get a genuinely great moment opening the door alongside the Princess, never think twice about clicking “You’re not doing that.” as fast as humanly possible, and finally await the door at the end of the cabin. You finally get your fairytale ending. The princess goes out into the world together with you. You brought her out. And then she is taken by the Shifting Mound in a way reminiscent of her dying. Even if this wasn’t your first playthrough, it still comes as a shock. For the most part, you were being that Romantic hero, living in the moment with your passion. The thought of this happening was gone entirely. This wasn’t supposed to happen. And it *hurts*. And the chapter is over.

The route of the Hero has a different point of view on the whole situation. That’s not to say it’s not easy to get drawn in by the hilarious dialogue and sheer cuteness of the Princess – far from it. It is, after all, what drives the conflict within this. For the Hero, and the player that goes along his path, has one bit of information stand out. That the world ended after the Princess killed you. Now, you can naturally be skeptical of the information, but the Princess isn’t helping her case here. Entirely vague, entirely unwilling to mention anything about it. The only thing she seems to care about is getting on your good side.

Now, you still want to save her. That much is clear. You still don’t take the knife in the beginning, and you saw her Chapter 1 incarnation. She is still a good person, kind and loving. But there are questions raised, important questions. Which is why not all Hero routers get the same ending. There is a conflict between how far you’re able to go before the risk of the world ending eclipses your distrust of the Narrator and your trust of the Princess. If the whole world really does end if she’s free, is it worth it? And as such you get to the major points of the Hero ending.

The first is the Deconstructed ending. As you question the Princess, you desperately try to figure out what the best way to go forward is for you. And that starts with getting a straight answer from the Princess on what exactly she plans on doing. The operation… does not go well. As you try and push for anything, any sign that she isn’t going to end the world, the same rejoinder comes in, alongside a distorted track. “I just want to make you happy.” The Princess is not an individual anymore, and begins to change shape. But you are locked in with a horrified inability to look away, like one who sees a car accident. And with that, the Princess is a Princess no longer, and the Shifting Mound takes her away.

There’s also the option of taking the Hero’s advice when confronted with the scenario: to leave. You don’t like what’s going on and you try to do whatever you can to undo the doing. Perhaps surprisingly, it works. And then you’re forced to deal with the cognitive dissonance of the Princess and *that* being the same individual. But you, not without a healthy dose of skepticism, still head upstairs alongside the Princess. In the end, you can’t bring yourself to kill her. Throughout it all, she still has been the beautifully endearing picture of innocence, if a questionable one, and especially with regards to the knife on the table, there is no way you can take it to her chest with no warning, especially after everything you did in the first Chapter. So you leave with her, and the “end of the world” really does come in one fell swoop with the call of the Shifting Mound. You can’t help but wonder if the decision you made was the right one, not really. Like, you still believe she didn’t deserve to die, but maybe, just maybe, it would have been a better ending.

So what if you did kill her? What happens when love *truly* melts away into skepticism. After the continuous question dodging and whatever the… other thing was, this is clearly not an ordinary Princess, it is not the same Princess that you tried to save at the beginning. There is only a sliver of her, a shadow of her former self. Slaying her, well, slaying her is probably doing her a favor. It might be doing the world a favor, too. Maybe she is an individual with malicious intent. And as you take the blade and plunge it into her chest, you instantly know you made the wrong decision. She does not oppose it. She simply lets you kill her with a single tear hanging in her eye, saying “I think this is what you want.” It’s meant to feel dirty and it does, even heartbreaking in the moment, although it is immediately counterbalanced by the effect of the Smitten killing you over it.

I won’t exactly go over Scorched Grey the same way, I think there’s generally only two frames of mind going into it, and that’s either the standard “Hero-Skeptic” framework that I’ll expand on later, or simply a completionist mindset. Plus, it’s technically not The Damsel. Plus I’m lazy. But this is the point where I will try to expand on the theming of each and every route and mindset to go through within the Chapter, and that *will* include the Scorched Grey theming.

It’s made quite clear from the chapter that one of the primary themes is objectification, the making of the Princess into nothing more than a vehicle to live one’s fantasy into. The taking of an individual and making them into an it. The destruction of humanity by your own desire, and what that says about your desires in the first place. Ironically, this is merely one fourth wall away from the rest of the Princesses, each of them being a piece of fiction that many simply engage with *because* they are an object, but with the Damsel it is directly nodded to within the narrative. One meta-layer is peeled back, if you will.

Nothing hammers this more home than the entirely jarring line that escapes the Shifting Mound’s lips when you ask about the vessel she holds. Unlike the rest of the fragments, which are all given an indication that they have been fulfilled after the Shifting Mound takes them, the only note she has to say is that the Damsel has “served her purpose”. There is nothing that she wished for, as anyone who has obtained the deconstructed ending can attest to. But even in the more standard runs, she is simply a tool to be used and discarded. And there are three general reactions to this line.

The first is the hardcore Smitten route’s preferred choice, denial. “The Princess was far more than an object, she had character, she had kindness, she had motivations from the beginning! The narrative is what is wrong, there’s nothing wrong with the Princess. She. Is. Perfect. Not just from a narrative standpoint but a metanarrative one as well. She has depth, she *is* a character.” All in the hopes that if they insist on it enough, it will become true. The Damsel was not designed to be viewed in a vacuum. There are themes that run through her character, and including negative ones, and the denial of them is a far truer denial of the character than any sort of objectification could ever be.

Then the more moderate Smitten routers get a different response. A slap in the face. They did all of this, they had fun, they laughed with her, they cried when she was taken. They were connected to her, they had a real connection to what she was. One could even accuse them of… loving her. They honest to goodness cared about this Princess, they were invested in her story. Yet, in the end, they also formed her around themselves. They “molded her to love you”. As much as they loved the Princess, that was only because they cut out a piece of the Shifting Mound that they *could* love, a caricature of her true nature. They still took an individual, and despite truly loving her, made her into something that she was not so they could do that very thing. She is not a person. She is a plot device, an individual made to love and be loved with nothing beyond that. She is an object.

Lastly, those who went on the route of the Hero get that same slap in the face, that selfsame bucket of water poured over their heads, but in a different way. They didn’t try to objectify her. They didn’t want anything of the sort. All they wanted to do was the right thing. Right? Yet even in that desire to do the right thing, they still get that same chilling text from the Shifting Mound. They have built an individual just like those who went on the route of the Smitten. Just a different one. Not one who was built around your “glorious romance”, but rather one built around something of a glorious Romance. The need to be a Hero. The desire to do what was right, to save an unjustly imprisoned Princess. The Princess became a plot device in the end anyway, just one that needed to be saved rather than one who needed to be loved.

I want to continue off of that. The player is trying to do nothing more than the right thing, he is simply doing what a Hero should. And that determination to do what is right leads to him getting impacted the most by that line in the ending, the line that implies that whatever right he was doing, he was still being driven by selfishness, by that need to be a Hero. That hits the player right within where it hurts, it almost could be said to strike at the one emotional vulnerability of them. To have your hard work, your pain, your desire for what is right to be considered nothing more than the delusions of a Don Quixote tilting at windmills in order to fight giants, just as lost as Smitten, that doesn’t feel too great. It almost minimizes your struggle, and it is genius. You play as a Hero because you want to feel like a Hero, not because the morality of this world means anything to you. It is stripping that meta-layer down one by one.

But objectification is not the only theme present. While it may seem like something of a potpourri topic to throw in, earlier on the server we were talking about the Damsel in particular’s perceptiveness with regards to perception. When the door shuts and locks, it is the first and only time the Princess gets visibly **negative** in any way during the entirety of the Chapter. Even when you kill her, she still does so with nary a frown on her face. Even as a tear rolls down her cheek, she still smiles. But not at the door. The narration points out quite clearly that she frowns. This is, I reiterate, the only thing that happens. And her response is not “we’re stuck down here”, it is not “I’m unable to leave now”.

What it is happens to be “that’s not supposed to happen”. She recognizes the construct in a way very few allude to within the game. Adding onto that note, within the Scorched Grey chapter, she (correctly) determines the very nature of the construct and that inherent “cycle of violence and despair” inherent to it, even (correctly) determining that the only way to leave was to annihilate that very construct. This is shown even clearer at the other major event at the door. When you ask if the Princess can open the door, the sole question she throws back at you is “Do you think I can?”, and after a response in the affirmative, “Then I can”. In the end, it is quite clear that she is, *heavily* ironically, one of the more aware characters in the game with regards to your circumstance.

While speaking of the Scorched Grey, I think this route also exemplifies another major theme – the nature of the Princess as a being of perception. All routes exemplify one facet of the Shifting Mound: Spectre represents the gravity of her, Tower her divinity, Prisoner the very incarnation in and of itself of her within the construct, and so on. Damsel has something different, though, and that is that she’s just a slippery little fella. Far more than anybody else, Damsel changes throughout her chapters, in ways more pronounced than anybody else. The Shifting Mound declares that we “molded her to love you”, as I quoted previously. That molding takes stage front and center throughout all of our interactions with her.

The most obvious example is her deconstruction, which when her sole true motivation (to leave) is discarded, she begins to break down, unable to offer to the player anything beyond the only desire every other Princess has. With the compulsive need to love the player, etched into her core, there is nothing she can do other than try to add to that love, losing herself within the process. But that is not the only time she changes. Because she is willing to give up that freedom in, well, a heartbeat. Attempting to kill her does not lead to any sort of resistance from her. The one goal she had, staying alive and winning her freedom, is out the window despite being (questionably) willing to kill for it in the last chapter. Now, throughout the Scorched Grey, it’s made clear that she did not, in fact, want to die, that she just wanted to be free together, but the complete unwillingness to save her own life is a stark contrast to the first chapter.

In fact, that perpetually changing nature alongside her being so objectified means that it’s really, *really* hard to figure out her true character. There is very little in her that does not change and very little remaining that isn’t specifically put there by you. She is an eel, wriggling out of your grasp and impossible to pin down, in a large way like the Shifting Mound herself. But… for the most part, there are two facets to her character beyond the already listed themes. And a sharp divide between them.

Chapter One Damsel and Chapter Two Damsel are not the same person. That’s usually true for most of them, but they also usually have some semblance of similarity between their counterparts. The only exceptions I can think off the top of my head are Spectre and *maaybe* Stranger if you want to count that. The rest of them act as exaggerated versions of the existing individuals shown. Chapter One Adversary likes fights. Chapter Two Adversary likes fights. Chapter One Witch is built on the back of distrust. Chapter Two Witch is built on the back of distrust. Everything lines up nicely.

That is not the case for the Damsel. The only thing that you can say with both of them is that they are nice and do not want to hurt you. The Chapter One incarnation (henceforth Princess) is a tragedy of a character that doesn’t want to kill you but still must to secure her own life and freedom against a renegade puppeting you. The Chapter Two incarnation (henceforth Damsel) is a Horror-”Feel-Good”-Comedic-Tragic character that shows nothing about the emotional anguish she went through in chapter one. I love both of them, but they have an unmatched disconnect. And I think that sort of adds to the character. Now, there is absolutely a benefit from an emotional through-line (there’s a reason Thorn is my second-favorite chapter), but in this case, only brief touches to the beginning enhance the story.

The most striking thing is the sense of comedic horror that comes when Damsel just completely ignores any expected trauma from the Princess’s emotional destruction. It, depending on the route you take, either makes you love her character more and more as the humor begins to entrap you, or it begins the process of getting the player unnerved, exactly like the developers wanted. It is a key dividing point in the mindset of the player and the route that they have chosen. The Damsel says nothing about what happened, heck, she barely acknowledges it except to indicate that “You died!”

Secondly, it sets up Damsel as a sympathetic figure while still allowing her to begin establishing herself. Without the setup from the Princess, the player has no idea how to view Damsel, potentially even seeing her as a less on-the-nose Razor, with her comedically hiding her sinister intentions. The Princess allows the player to begin on a note that the Princess is *actually* friendly rather than simply pretending to be so. At the same time, it’s divorced enough that apart from that frame of reference at the beginning, Damsel is still allowed to shine within her own character.

Lastly, and most importantly, it sets her up for the Scorched Grey. The guilt at causing the death of an innocent and the belief that you would be unable to cause the death of an innocent yourself leads her to blame the construct and attempt to bring it down, which seals your fate in the third Damsel chapter, the only time where the two chapters meet in a beautiful climax of Passion going too far and causing pain, in attempt of running away from that very thing, morphing into something that not even the Smitten is able to remain devoted to in an awful tragedy of love being not enough in the end.

Wait, wait, wait. Did I hear “the end” being spoken? At this time of year? Localized entirely within this essay? Well then, it’s time to talk about what puts this saga at pure perfection, shall we? I probably could just use the awesome power of Ctrl + V to get the desired effect, but I still do want to offer my narration, so I’ll compromise and do a bit of both. “Your lover drives a stake into your body. And another. And another. And another. And another. Do I miss your heart because I cannot stand to see it go? But the stakes meant nothing to you. You had a desire, and you set that desire free, you lifting me and me lifting you, forever and ever and ever, consumed by true belief, there was nothing that could hold us back.”

Do I even need to explain why that’s so good? Definitively the best poem in the end, it isn’t even close, especially when coupled with Ms. Goodnight’s awe-inspiring delivery. Did I say that the Scorched Grey was the perfect synthesis of the Princess and the Damsel? I was lying. This is. Every word so lovingly placed, the language sounds like it comes from the pen of God Himself. It is emotionally resonant, the art is beautiful, I have not run into such a short piece of dialogue that outdoes it. Gonna be honest, mostly just wrote up this essay to gush about it. Even now, it is considered by most everyone to be one of the best lines of dialogue in a game filled with magnificent ones.

And the other one, that of the Scorched Grey. It’s simpler, ironically. “I kill you. You kill me. Back and forth we go, faster and faster and faster. I kill you. You kill me. Hollow eyes watch from the dry corners of a memory. A home built on all of the futures that were supposed to be, preserved until the moment of reunion. The fire of the heart sets it all ablaze. I kill you and me.”

This, this right here is one of the most slept on ending poems and it’s not even funny. So fantastic at expressing the heartbreak inherent to the Scorched Grey’s character. I don’t know how you can see the line “A home built on all the futures that were supposed to be”, especially with the Scorched Grey dead and charring in a wedding gown, and not feel *something*. It’s not as good as the standard Damsel stuff, but then again, nothing is. It’s still deserving of more praise than it currently receives, and one of my top three ending poems of all time, only edged out by Prisoner. Gosh, this game belongs in a museum.

Seems I need to debunk some stuff that happens to get a lot of traction regarding those who speculate on Damsel, too. First of all, her character motivation is not guilt nor gratitude. That sort of thing works incredibly well in fanworks, and I’m happy to see it ~~because that means I get to see Damsel in a fanwork~~. It has little to no backing within canon. Damsel is a chapter about the only motivations for the Princess being those put in place by the objectification of the player. There is nothing regarding anything beyond that, and it detracts from the existing, well-elucidated themes that are actually within the chapter. The only sort of substance to them is both Chapter 1 Princess and Scorched Grey indicating guilt for killing you, but that is almost entirely repudiated within the actual Chapter 2.

Speaking of the Scorched Grey, another thing I saw somewhat extensively is that you somehow “taught her” that killing is the way to love one another, and that’s why she kills you in Chapter 3, and I honestly do not know how that gained any traction at all. It’s pretty clear that she views all the death as a pretty terrible and messed up thing and only kills the two of you to escape the cycle of death. It’s spoken of as a means to an end, not an end in and of itself. I am genuinely confused on how this got started, because it really just… opposes the main *in-narrative* themes of the Chapter??? Like, you don’t even have to analyze it, it’s just within the text, plain and simple.

Anyway, I deeply apologize for the length of this once again, look forward to an appendix when Pristine Cut comes out. I’ve already played it because my uncle works at Black Tabby, but I don’t want to spoil it for you gents. If my opinions change massively after playing through the new update from today, I will change that too. Anyway, Damsel is the best character, literally does not do a single thing wrong within any of her chapters, has definitively the best Shifty stuff, and you should invest in her. As more people vocally become willing to throw money at anything related to Damsel, the likelier it is that we get Damsel merch. I need it so badly. Please. Anyway, if anything stands out to you or you disagree, I am begging you to tell me to get my act together and explain what I said wrong, so do that. Also please.

#slay the princess #the damsel #the princess #black tabby games #I spent an ungodly amount of time writing this up #But I honestly think this could be the be all end all work for this tiny character in a tiny game #Also #Seriously #Play Slay the Princess

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senblades · 19 days

Note

Tell us about the planning doc!!!

thank you very much for indulging me HAHA

So I started writing the planning doc like. When I really shouldn't have LMAO- I wasn't busy right then, but I was absolutely about to be. Oh well! What's done is done.

The planning doc is, essentially, a full outline of all the plot of fftsr, told exclusively in dumb jokes and memes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Or, well, more accurately, a dumping ground for all my ideas in chronological order, marked with dates and some (emphasis on SOME lmao) of the confidant rank ups for Akechi and Ren.

I'll share some of the outline already written in chapters to get my point across: (UH MAJOR AND MINOR SPOILORS FOR FAITH FOR THE SECOND RUN- earlier chapters, mostly)

As you can see, not everything from the doc makes the cut. Sometimes things just don't work anymore, or I can't quite find a place to shoehorn it. I'm pretty sure a line showing how Sumire was struggling without a team never made it into the chapter- or, if it did, it was so negligible that it doesn't even matter.

Plus, I definitely hadn't figured out all the scene-by-scene POV's by that point. The "April 18" bullet point implies that scene might have taken place from Sumire's POV, but the final chapter actually has it as Ren's.

I also put all my Metaverse powerpoint slide intermittently as they become relavent. I'm not actually sure if this explanation ever made it into a chapter... I think Akechi might have implied it? But I don't think it was ever spelled out, since I couldn't find a smooth way to do it. Oh well! Here it is now!

There's also outlines of character conversations and motivations, as expected. The level of detail within the planning doc is VERY uh. Well, it's dependant on a lot of things. There are some major beats that I just hadn't thought of until writing the actual chapters, but some of the character-related convos that are more centred to the plot got written down pre-writing chapter 1

From memory, I think the above scene also changed slightly in the final fic. Sometimes what I write as character motivations in the planning doc ends up being VERY DIFFERENT by the time I get to the actual chapter. And, sometimes, the characters just run away with a scene HAHA

Speaking of character convos, some of my jokes in the planning doc made it, almost word for word, into the fic's chapters. Akechi hysterically wondering if Rank 3 is the "deepest darkest secrets" Rank Up is something that I wanted to immortalise lmao

As you can also see, though, not all of the confidant rank-ups were planned- Magician rank 2 is implied, but I didn't actually know what it was going to be at the time.

And then there's the confidants I didn't have planned at ALL:

(UH SPOILERS UP UNTIL CHAPTER 46)

The Tower and the Aeon are the worst offenders of this: I retroactivaly added the Aeon into the planning doc- an easy feat, since it coincides with the Justice, but just know that it absolutely wasn't there originally lmao. The Aeon came about in two stages, if I'm remembering correctly- I wrote the dream sequence where Ren didn't remember shit, but some vision of Crow was there and did remember, pretty much on a whim, and then thought "okay what if that kept happening though"

I think that descision was one of the best things I could have done lmao- it made October third MUCH more exciting to write (and, I assume, to read)... (originally Metatron was not a factor in the boys remembering- just some annoying headaches and visions. Shadow Maruki was also a last-second addition! While Ren was off galivanting with Crow, I wanted to give Goro something interesting to do as well. So! Impromptu therapy session)

Now the Tower... I did have some. uh. Plans, for cognitive Akechi right from the start; I can't remember my exact thought process for when I started cooking for this confidant, but I think I saw a comment on Throw Away Your Mask explaining why the Tower was particularly apt for the character it's used for in that fic, and thought "wait I can cook with this". or something HAHA I can't quite remember. (I was also VERY MUCH inspired by Marigolds and A Tale of Two Tricksters for all of that... (love those fics you should read them if you haven't))

All of the PT's rank ups are missing from the planning doc, too. I knew I wanted to have all of them as confidants, but I had no idea what their arcana was going to be, or when those confidants would start or rank up.

I unfortuantly can't share some of my best jokes from the planning doc, since I'm joking about MAJOR SPOILERS from future chapters HA

ty very much for letting me gush lmao <3 <3 <3

#ask #fftsr #I was a little afraid someone would ask me this question and I'd forget every thought I've ever had about my fic #but word vomit has been achieved!

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the-obnoxious-sibling · 2 months

Text

in which this story comes to an end. (fucking finally.)

part eight of the post-marineford portion of the near miss fics! (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7) if you have no idea what i’m talking about but would like to read a shanks/buggy story about kissing in disguise and then having to deal with the emotional fallout of doing that, click on this link, that’s the tag for the whole thing in chronological order. (plus a fair bit of complaining about writing, one inspirational improvised musical number, and a snippet of shanks pov) if you do know what i’m talking about: it’s done! it’s done!! i wish i could say i planned to end this on 3/8 but lmao, did not know the significance of the day until, like, this tuesday. but it’s done. i’m taking a break from the world of this story to work on some gift exchange fics, but i will be uploading the first few fics to ao3 soon, and should start posting the shanks POV post-marineford story in late april. if there are scenes you’d especially like his POV on, let me know! i’ll do my best to incorporate them.

Buggy spent a very cathartic half-hour shouting at a bunch of guys who ate up his words with a spoon. Always eager to please, the men obediently found themselves disembarkation buddies, cleaned up the messes they’d made, and started gathering their things (mostly weapons they’d stolen off the guards at Impel Down).

It was nice to be respected, Buggy thought as he watched them scurry around the ship. However misplaced the respect, it made people listen to him, something Buggy had wanted for as long as he could remember. He’d never been able to get enough. Probably never would, if the hunger that grew every time these men cheered his name was anything to go by.

He wandered up to the room he shared with Galdino—thankfully empty, he didn’t want to end up in another slap fight over details—and took care of his own possessions. (It wouldn’t do to have any excuses to delay or hang back when they got to the meeting point.) With the modified Marine jacket and hat back on, Buggy could fit everything else in a small satchel that he strapped around his waist, neatly hidden by a twist in a sash and the way the jacket fell. He left the room… more or less the way it had been when he arrived—there was no way to hide that dent in the wall, and Galdino would have to be the one to deal with the smear of wax across half the bed—and exited the room for the last time, taking in the view of the deck below with a contented sigh.

The Red Force was a well-run ship—a compliment Buggy would never voice aloud, but in the privacy of his own mind he allowed himself to think it. Even with hundreds of strangers aboard who couldn’t help but get in the way, she was clean, well-equipped, and sailing smoothly. Buggy didn’t know if he’d be able to say the same in a few hours, when all these men would be trying to squeeze onto the somewhat smaller Big Top. Buggy rubbed a hand across his mouth to hide his involuntary grimace at the thought. Maybe the island they were meeting up on had some industry he could put them to work at? A farm would be fantastic, if he could get paid for their labor and get the produce at a discount as well…

Buggy looked over the deck in search of one of Shanks’ senior officers. He didn’t know most of them by name, but those cloaks and capes they wore were distinctive enough that he thought he should be able to identify them on sight, and surely if the one he found didn’t know anything about the island, they could point him to someone who did. The navigator? Roux, who seemed to know a little about everything? Beckman, whose job it was to know something about everything?

And, think of the devil, one of the doors to the interior of the ship opened to reveal Beckman, speaking with a few of those cloaked men. They each went their own way, and Beckman crossed to the railing, taking up a pose not dissimilar from Buggy’s a few levels above him. That was a first mate for you, always keeping an eye on things, one way or another.

Buggy sent his feet down the stairs and the rest of him took the shorter path, swooping down to Beckman’s side like a giant white bat. To his credit, Beckman didn’t react to this unusual approach. Instead, calm as anything, he said, “Whatever you said to those men, it seems to be doing the trick. Thanks.”

Buggy waved the praise off. “If they’re so eager to be under my command, they’ve got to start learning to behave themselves sooner or later. Might as well be now.” Leaning an elbow against the railing, Buggy looked Beckman over. He sure did seem a lot more relaxed now than he’d been outside Shanks’ rooms. Relaxed enough to share intel? “Tell me something.”

Beckman glanced sideways at Buggy. “Hm?”

“What do you know about this island where we’re meeting up with my crew? Is it populated?”

“Ah, I don’t think so, no,” Beckman said, tilting his head back, recalling the facts. “Snake picked a jungle island that’s a bit out of the way of normal trade routes. There’s some ruins, but no signs of recent habitation.”

Buggy tried not to visibly wilt. “Ah.”

Beckman’s eyes lingered on Buggy. “We didn’t want to risk a naval presence on the island getting word out to the rest of the Marines.”

“No, no, it makes sense.” Buggy sighed, shoving a hand under his hat to scrub at his hair. “Just trying to figure out how the hell I’m gonna feed all these guys in that case.” No way had anyone thought to tell Alvida that Buggy was bringing new guys with him, let alone a lot of new guys. She’d have gotten the ship supplied with their normal numbers in mind.

Well, the new guys were a tough bunch, maybe they’d see hunting for their dinner as a fun challenge. Assuming there was anything safe to hunt and eat on this island… Buggy dug his fingers into his scalp, biting back a frustrated groan.

Beckman laughed. “Yeah, I don’t envy you that job. At least we were expecting to take on passengers.” He whistled to get the attention of someone up in the crow’s nest and flashed a hand sign at them. After a few exchanges, he stopped signing and rolled his eyes. “Stubborn, overworking little—” He cut himself off and glanced at Buggy. “Was that all you wanted from me?” Buggy nodded. “Then I’ll see you when Shanks finally gets up the nerve to talk to you… or when we land. Whichever comes first.” With that, he walked over to the mast, got the attention of a young man who’d been leaning against it, and grabbed onto a low-hanging rope. The two of them pulled themselves up into the rigging—to harass whoever was up in the crow’s nest into taking a break, probably.

Buggy watched them climb for a minute, a frown crawling its way across his face. When Shanks finally gets up the nerve to talk to you… so there was something Shanks was hiding that he didn’t think he should, huh? Buggy had figured the feeling he was getting off Shanks was about one of those topics he’d had private conversations with Roger about way back when, not something that Shanks would consider any of Buggy’s business. But apparently that wasn’t the case.

Buggy’s frown deepened. He could come up with a list of topics Shanks wouldn’t want to broach but would still feel obligated to bring up, no problem. But that list was short, and Buggy didn’t like the thought of discussing anything on it.

Unsettled, Buggy leaned back against the mast, arms crossed.

“Look out below!!!”

Buggy looked up and shrieked at the sight of a man falling head-first out of the crow’s nest. He scattered—it wasn’t like his body would soften the blow enough that the guy would live—and then blinked, as a rope he hadn’t noticed went taut, and the falling slowed to a gentle, somehow mechanical motion.

“The hell is wrong with you?!” he demanded, floating up to be eye-level with the slowly descending man. This was, if Buggy remembered correctly, Shanks’ sniper, Yasopp, of the infamous years-long tempting out to sea. Someone with good aim, and a keen eye, but not particularly decisive—or, at least, he hadn’t been back then. He was also apparently someone with a shitty sense of humor; he wasn’t answering Buggy’s question because he was too busy laughing and pointing at Buggy.

“Your face! Oh, my stomach hurts,” he said, clutching at his waist. “Oh man, that was almost worth getting kicked out of the nest.” As they approached the ground, he shifted his weight so his feet would touch down first, and untangled himself from the rope with practiced ease. “Phew. Sorry, uh—Buggy, right? Yeah, sorry about that. The crew knows better than to stand so close to the mast when the watch changes, and I didn’t think to check before I jumped.”

“Jumping from the crow’s nest for fun.” Buggy shook his head. “And here I thought you people were almost respectable.” Yasopp, the maniac, cackled. Beckman, drifting down to the deck on his own rope mechanism, in a much more orderly fashion, chuckled a little.

“It’s possible we’ve been on… well, not our best behavior. Let’s call it better behavior than usual, these last few days,” Beckman admitted. “Except for Yasopp, who doesn’t know the meaning of the concept and so stays up in his nest.”

“You haven’t been on your best behavior, you’re as mean as ever,” Yasopp said, putting on an over-the-top pout.

Beckman rolled his eyes. “Because I need to be, to get anything done around here,” he said. “And you need a break. Drink, talk to someone, tinker with one of your ridiculous trick bullets, I don’t care, just—let someone else keep an eye on things for a few hours, okay?” He nudged Yasopp in the side with an elbow. “Or are you gonna say you didn’t train your juniors well enough at their job?”

Yasopp crossed his arms, sulky. “No,” he conceded.

“Good,” Beckman said. Giving Buggy an apologetic grimace as he untied himself, he said, “I trust he’s apologized to you already?” His tone suggested that if he hadn’t, Yasopp would soon regret it.

What a mother hen of a first mate, Buggy thought, fighting down a smile. “Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” he said, shrugging off the incident like it hadn’t carved a decade off his lifespan. “I should’ve known you people had to be at least a little crazy, since you run around with Shanks.”

A small smile crossed Beckman’s face, and Yasopp muffled a snort of laughter in a fist.

Someone called out in a panicky tone for Beckman from a far corner of the ship, and the smile fell off his face. “If you’ll excuse me?” Not waiting for a reply from either of them, Beckman walked off.

“So mean,” Yasopp said, fondness creeping into his voice.

“That’s first mates for you,” Buggy said, unable to keep a similar fondness out of his own voice. Shanks had done a good job finding this guy. When you grew up with the gold standard first mate (or, heh, the Silvers standard?), it was hard to find someone who could measure up. “Keeping things in order when your captain’s lost his head.”

Yasopp chuckled. “Ah, the boss isn’t that bad off.” When Buggy gave him a skeptical look, he smirked. “Lost his heart, maybe, but he knows where his head’s at.”

“I—uh.” Flustered, Buggy cleared his throat. He’d really just gone and said it. “You’re a lot less subtle than your crewmates.”

Yasopp shrugged. “I leave subtlety to subtle men. I’m not built for it; I’m built for getting to the heart of the matter, and doing it fast.” He extended two fingers towards Buggy, lifted his thumb into the air, and twitched his hand like it was a gun recoiling. “We both know where things stand. What’s the use in dancing around it?”

“Sure,” Buggy muttered, his thoughts going back to what Beckman had said. What was it Shanks both didn’t want to tell him and needed to tell him? What was there left unsaid, besides the sort of thing Buggy had already decided didn’t need saying? He crossed his arms. Damn it, he’d been trying to avoid thinking about this shit!

“Hey,” Yasopp said, snapping his fingers to draw Buggy’s attention. “You work with bombs, right? You make them yourself?”

Welcoming the change in topic, Buggy scoffed. “Of course,” he said, “only an idiot trusts the kind of weapons manufacturers who are willing to sell to pirates to make explosives that are good, reliable, and cheap, and I have better things to spend my money on.” He narrowed his eyes at Yasopp. “Why?”

“Because Beck just gave me permission to tinker with my trick bullets, and if you make your own explosives you might be able to figure out what I’m doing wrong with this one.” Digging around in one of his oversized ammunition pouches, Yasopp presented Buggy with an unusually lightweight cartridge. “Here, what do you think?”

Buggy cracked the cartridge open, curious. Inside was a pool of silvery-black gunpowder and a thin-walled hollow bullet, which proved to have some other kind of powder inside. Buggy pinched that powder between two fingers, rubbing them together to feel the grit and then sniffing at the residue left behind. He stared at his fingers, baffled, and smelled them again. “What is that, aluminum and an ammonium salt?” Yasopp nodded. “Are you trying to make a cartridge that explodes in the barrel?”

Yasopp sighed, running a hand through his locs. “What I want is a smoke bomb I can fire out of a gun. What I’m getting is… that, more or less.”

“Yeah, of course you are, a big velocity change ignites this stuff easily. With a different catalyst, though, or maybe a better sealed chamber…” Buggy trailed off, considering the bullet. A miniature smoke bomb, huh? Something that could stand up to the initial shock of gunfire, and turns to noise and powder on impact… “Do you have a chem lab around here somewhere?”

Yasopp grinned.

The two of them didn’t emerge from Yasopp’s workroom until the bell rang out announcing last call for lunch. Buggy wasn’t sure he’d ever get the metallic burnt smell out of these clothes, but he didn’t care; this had been fun, the kind of idle experimenting with explosives that he hadn’t had time to do in years. Buggy hadn’t realized how much of a man’s free time it ate up, captaining even a smallish crew, until he’d gotten a fraction of that time back.

“Too bad we didn’t figure out a solution for your smoke bullet problem,” he said, dusting the last of the gunpowder off his shirt sleeves.

“Eh, I’ve been working on this on and off for months, it wasn’t gonna be an easy fix,” Yasopp said, shrugging his star-spangled cloak back on. “But it got both of us out of our heads for a few hours, so I’d hardly call it a waste.”

Buggy blinked at him, frozen with one arm in his jacket. “Both of us?”

“You were fretting, I don’t know what about. Shanks, at a guess. And I’m… not good at letting other people take on my responsibilities.” Yasopp grimaced. “Beck doesn’t always have to toss me out of the nest, but…”

Buggy frowned, sliding the jacket up his other arm. “I wasn’t fretting.”

Yasopp gave him an unimpressed look. “Sure. And what kind of concealer do you use to hide the frown lines you must have, if you make that face every hour of the day?” When Buggy scowled at him, Yasopp said, “I’m not a subtle man, remember? If you want somebody to pretend to believe your lies, you’re looking at the wrong guy.”

Buggy sighed. As Yasopp locked the workroom up behind them, he admitted, “It… was good to get out of my head for a while.” Yasopp gave him a squeeze on the shoulder, and they left it at that.

Lunch was a bit less exciting than the past few days had led Buggy to expect: the fried rice with pickled cabbage and ham that had been served with Shanks’ breakfast was the main dish on offer, with other repurposed leftovers making up the rest of the meal. When Roux wasn’t looking, Buggy gave him a curious look. The rest of the crew had been on their best behavior, according to Beckman… so, had Lucky Roux been showing off? If he had, it had worked on Buggy; he still wanted to poach Roux for his own crew, even if this less impressive offering was his usual fare.

Eating his bowl of rice with a couple promising-looking toppings—all well-spiced and delicious, of course—Buggy made his way out onto the main deck. A few Red-Haired and Whitebeard Pirates glanced Buggy’s way, but most of them had gotten used to Buggy over the last few days and returned to their meals without paying him any mind. He peered down at the lower deck, crowded with men in worn prison uniforms standing in surprisingly well-organized clusters of twos and fours, finishing their lunch.

“Afternoon, men!” he called.

“Captain Buggy!” they cheered.

“Let’s see,” Buggy said, and on a whim set aside his bowl to chop off his feet and swoop down, close enough to excite his men but just out of reach. “Aren’t you arranged all nice and orderly? It looks like you did as I asked.”

“Of course!”

“We’d do anything you asked, Captain Buggy!”

Buggy grinned. Music to his ears. “Then I suppose I should reward you, shouldn’t I?” A few excited sounds rose from the crowd as Buggy returned to his spot on the deck above them. “Hm… I’ve told you a few stories of the old days with Captain Roger, and a few more adventures of the great Captain Buggy’s crew. But there’s someone I’ve yet to introduce you to, a captain who’s been allied with me and mine these last few months.” Someone who might need some convincing to cooperate with the sudden appearance of all these guys… and who was more eager for praise than even Buggy. “Let me tell you how the strong, beautiful Iron Mace Alvida saved my life.”

A hush fell over the crowd.

“Yes, I know what you’re thinking: the great Captain Buggy, in need of rescue?!” The wide-eyed stares Buggy received confirmed this. And by the look of it, some of the men were mentally tacking on the phrase by a woman? to that question, as he’d suspected they would. Yeah, best to nip that potential problem in the bud. “Well, I’d been through a terrible trial in the days leading up to our first meeting. Separated from my crew, from my body, alone on a half-wrecked ship, starving, a vicious sea monster rising out of the waves before me, his many-toothed maw dripping with drool, eager to eat me—when suddenly! A great iron mace came down on his skull!” Buggy slammed his lunch bowl against the railing, the crash of metal on wood drawing the eye of every man below.

Buggy grinned. If they hadn’t been hooked before, they sure were now.

He fudged some of the details, of course—no need to reveal exactly who had put him through that terrible trial, or how his crew had behaved in his absence. But the broad strokes were true enough, and the changes he made were in support of his reason for telling the story: to convince these guys to respect Alvida, to flatter her as they did him, to make this joining of forces go as smoothly as possible. Sure, it didn’t put Buggy in the best light, at least not at first, but he didn’t want Alvida taking a perceived slight out on a man who might be able to stand up to her mace. If revealing one of his weaknesses was how he avoided that disaster, so be it.

He was just reaching the ‘rescuing his crew from cannibals’ climax of the story when a cry rang out from above: “Land ho!”

Finally. The relief that rushed through Buggy nearly made him cry. After all the many hells he’d been through since being arrested… things could finally start getting back to normal.

“We’ll continue this story after we disembark,” Buggy announced, to a few disappointed groans from his men. “Find your buddy if you lost track of him during lunch! Make sure you both have everything you’re taking with you! Stay out of the way of the Red-Haired Pirates while they’re get us to shore, but be ready to leave the second we’re docked!”

“Aye, Captain!”

But of course, it wasn’t quite that simple.

Buggy found Galdino sitting in the empty mess with Lucky Roux, making polite conversation over a pot of tea. Though, with these two, it might not actually be the conversation it seemed to be—something about the island Roux sourced his tea from? Apparently it was a distinctive blend, and hard to acquire.

“Did you need something, Buggy?” Galdino asked, an undertone of irritation to his voice. Because of course Buggy needed something, why else did he ever seek Galdino out?

Well, if Galdino didn’t want to be used, he shouldn’t have made himself so useful.

“The dock’s gone,” Buggy said. “Either rotted through or swept away in a storm.”

Galdino glanced up at him, and set down his teacup. “Well, at least it’ll be a challenge. Lucky Roux, it’s been a pleasure.”

“It’s sure been something, having you people aboard,” Roux said with a wide smile. “Hopefully not for the last time.”

Buggy snorted. “In your captain’s dreams.”

Galdino muffled a laugh in his fist; Roux didn’t bother concealing his amusement. Buggy realized how his words had come off, scowled, and stormed out of the mess with a mutter of, “Come on, Galdino.”

The two of them joined Beckman and the Red-Haired Pirates’ navigator at the bow of the ship, and considered the space where a dock clearly used to be. A ship this big, an island with such a sharp drop from shore to sea? They wouldn’t be able to land without a dock.

“Can you do it?” Beckman asked.

“I’ll need to begin from the shore,” Galdino said, thoughtful. “If it isn’t well anchored from the start it’ll drift away.”

“That’s no problem.” Buggy chopped his feet off and leaned forward, letting Galdino sit cross-legged on his back. He flew them to shore, where Galdino made some long wax spears that Buggy wedged into place. When they were securely dug in, Galdino melted the tops of the spears and, starting from that spot, created more wax to mold into a floating dock. Nothing that would be any good at anchoring a ship the size of the Red Force long-term, but they didn’t intend to be here any longer than necessary. So long as it could hold firm while the men disembarked, that was all they needed.

While Galdino worked, Buggy hovered above the canopy, looking for any kind of promising location to settle his men. He quickly spotted the ruins Beckman had mentioned—several of the old buildings were tall enough to be seen well above the treetops, the gray of the stone standing out against all the greenery of the jungle. There was one with a large paved area around it, not far from the shore, which seemed promising. Buggy took a moment to fix the spot in his memory, then went back to tell Galdino about it.

Galdino barely paid him any mind. He was focused on his work, and confident enough in it to stand on the dock as he was building it, a foot or two of wax all that separated him from the awful, helpless death that awaited any Devil Fruit user in the ocean. It was bold of him; Buggy preferred a nice, reliable boat any day.

“Any messages to pass on to the men?” he asked, hovering at Galdino’s shoulder.

“They’ll need to be light on their feet, and should stick to the center of the dock,” Galdino said. He was starting to sweat; extruding this much wax in one go must take a lot of effort. “If their weight isn’t balanced right, one wrong move could capsize this whole thing.”

Buggy blanched. Yeah, he could never. “Noted,” he squeaked, and flew back to the Red Force to convey these instructions.

Despite Galdino’s warnings, the disembarkation went well. Buggy watched with no small amount of pride as the buddy system worked beautifully, each pair of men walking down the gangplank, across the waxen dock, and onto the shore without any signs of a bottleneck developing. Being listened to was nice—it was very nice—but being listened to, having your orders followed, and seeing them work exactly as you imagined, now that was heaven. Buggy might not be the strongest pirate the world had ever seen, but damn it, he was good at this shit.

As the last dozen pairs prepared to leave the Red Force, Buggy felt a gentle weight press down on his foot. He frowned, tried to remember where he’d left his feet, and only then noticed a presence on the main deck that made his hackles rise.

Shanks.

“Are you holding my feet hostage?”

“That depends,” Shanks said, giving Buggy an unreadable look. “Are you leaving without saying goodbye?”

Oh, this guy. On his own ship, surrounded on all sides by his most trusted officers, and still managing to look like some kind of miserable wet cat, terrified of being left alone.

“And how was I supposed to say goodbye to someone who’s been hiding from me?” Buggy asked, instead of the dozen meaner things he wanted to say.

Shanks glanced away, suddenly awkward, and Buggy took the opportunity to look him over. The shower had done him good, gotten him clean of all that secondhand makeup—though it had not, Buggy noticed with a quiet little thrill, removed the bruises that had apparently been hiding underneath some of that makeup. His hair looked nicer, almost healthy, even pinned back by the sunglasses Shanks had propped up high on his forehead. “Are these the shame glasses I’ve heard so much about?”

Shanks’ hand rose to fiddle with the temple of the glasses. “Ah, yeah.”

“I thought your crew was supposed to laugh at you while you were wearing them?”

“They’ve been laughing at me, all day,” Shanks said, tired. “And they’ve been right to, given… everything.”

Well, that was ominous.

With a sigh, Shanks said, “There’s something I should have told you earlier, Buggy, but there never seemed to be a good time, and… I didn’t know how to say it.” A sheepish smile pulling at the corner of his lip, he said, “I still don’t, to be honest,” and pulled the sunglasses down over his eyes.

It took Buggy a moment to put it together. Shanks’ discomfort, the way the large mirrored lenses took up so much space on his face, the nervous twist of his lips… then Shanks ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and it clicked. All the blood draining out of his face, Buggy caught Beckman’s eye; he nodded, ever so slightly.

(Fuck.)

Buggy got up in Shanks’ face, looking past his own wide-eyed reflection to confirm that spark of recognition. Shanks leaned back, Buggy reconnected to his own feet, and at this angle… yeah, he knew that face. He’d kissed it, once.

(Oh fuck, he’d pickpocketed that guy, too.)

Fighting down a hysterical burst of laughter, Buggy said, voice high-pitched from the strain, “Well, uh, thanks for the ride, Shanks! I’d say I owe you one, but I’m pretty sure you still owe me another two or three dozen favors before we’re even.” He backed up, hands brushing along the railing as he inched towards the stairs, and beyond them the gangplank, the dock, the island, freedom.

(Somewhere he could have a little breakdown about this revelation in private.)

“Buggy…” Shanks cautiously held out a hand.

Buggy pulled back out of reach. “I’m not saying goodbye to you, Shanks!” he snapped. Shanks faltered, his hurt visible even past those ridiculous sunglasses, and Buggy sighed. Did he have to spell it out? “Stupid. I already told you.”

Confusion wasn’t a much better look on Shanks. Well, either he’d figure out or he wouldn’t.

Buggy rolled his eyes, spun around, and ran off. Over his shoulder, he promised, “Until next time, Red-Hair!”

#notfic #the near miss fics #one piece #shuggy #buggy #shanks #now if you’ll excuse me i’m going to sleep for a week #orz why is writing so easy at the beginning and so hard at the end

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v0rewhxre · 3 months

Note

Heyy could you write abt how Noah would be having a gf/partner with past trauma/ SA trauma and how he would help with that? No worries if not I get it’s triggering <3

Hello! I can write this, but this content may be triggering for folks to read! I am only writing this because I am someone who has personally gone through past trauma/SA trauma. I'll write this more as a head cannon.

I will not be going into full detail of types of trauma. I will be writing entirely from my experiences in my own personal relationships from the past or things I wished I had in relationships.

18+ MDNI

CW: [Mentions of past trauma and SA trauma, mentions of emotional distress due to past traumas, mentions of relationship strife due to past traumas, conversations may be distressing as well, mentions of sex and sexual relations]

This isn't in chronological order I'm sorry :)

This is also all I can write cause I do not/will not make up experiences I haven't had surrounding trauma/SA. These are very personalized things I needed in relationships/I have experienced in my relationships related to my trauma. This may not apply to you and/or your trauma

Noah is extremely supportive with your therapy and things you do for your mental wellness. He often buys you expensive journals and fancy pens to keep up with your journaling. He will drive you to therapy and wait for you (when he's home from touring). He will research ways to support you in his own time too, making sure that he approaches everything in a trauma-informed way.

The relationship moved very slowly. It took you a lot of time to trust Noah, you didn't even kiss until the 4th date! But that was ok! Noah was so in love with you the minute he met you, he moved at the pace you wanted and needed. He saw parts of himself in you, realizing that you had a lot of lived experience in life and that there was the good and the bad. He was just as patient with you as you were with him.

The first time you had a panic attack was really scary. You freaked out when Noah touched you in a way that caused you to have a flashback. At first Noah freaked out, unsure what to do, but then he slowly realized you were having a panic attack. He sat with you, holding your hand and taking deep breaths. He asked you what worked best for you in those moments, offering snacks and water if you needed. He just sat with you, which no one had every done. Just being there for you made you realize how in love you were with Noah.

Now Noah is a pro at panic attacks. He can sense them coming on, he has categorized all your triggers in his mind. He knows when they are about to happen, helping you remove yourself from situations when you can. Although, a few still surprise you both and he's there holding your hand. He places kisses on your forehead when you want, sometimes he even shares some of his meditation techniques he's learned for his own.

You don't always share what is going on, internalizing things deeply. This sometimes comes from a place of trust, other times because you don't want to burden him. It can be hard when you have so much going on internally, and Noah has so much going on externally.

When you shared what happened to you for the first time, it broke him. How could anyone hurt you the way those people did? He listened intently, only asking questions he deemed comfortable for you. He didn't want to ask anything too intense at first. Over time you did share the details he had wondered about, conscious that it was something you needed to share and not something he should ask. He listened to you and when it came time for him to share, he made sure you were also ready to receive his trauma story.

Noah also has significant trauma. And sometimes he has the same reactions or the same issue you do in the relationship. This can lead to a lot of fights or contention, but at the end of the day you both try to understand each other.

Noah tries to fix you sometimes and it drives you crazy! He comes from a good place, only wanting you to be ok, but it's not always helpful. You have to explain to him that sometimes he just needs to listen and be there rather than trying to fix everything.

You have an extremely hard time trusting Noah because of your experiences with your ex-boyfriend. This has led to you constantly asking if he's cheating on you, where he was Friday night, why his texts came in late. You were weary when his moods were off and often times you were stubborn in believing him, even when he was telling the truth.

The first time you had sex was hard. Being so vulnerable with someone after being violated was hard. Being able to trust him enough to be naked, alone in a room was really intense emotionally. It took a few times to fully have sex with each other. Noah never made you feel bad about anything, he took things slowly. He always looked in your eyes to make sure something was ok, he didn't overtly ask because he didn't want to put you on spot either. The experience was very emotional for you, but also very liberating. You were taking your body back, you felt sexy and beautiful for the first time in a long time. You cried in Noah's arms after sex, Noah rubbing small circles over your lower back.

When he doesn't want to have sex, you take it extremely personally and have a hard time believing that he still loves you. Sometimes when he's extremely horny, you take that personally as well. Thinking he only wants you for sex.

*************************************************

#noah sebastian #asks #bad omens #this is a very intense topic #noah sebastian x reader

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mlove44lh · 1 year

Text

For a lifetime Part II - En/USA version

Part I here

Warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, angst, fluff, original character.

Words: 12.486

Summary: Lewis and Angie met in their childhood and after a short time they were already inseparable, the relationship escalated and soon they became more than friends. But life happened to both and they ended up following different paths. Nine years later they meet again. Is all that love really gone?

Notes: Some events are out of chronological order.

To read the second part, it is not necessary to have read the first, but you might not understand some things.

August 2015

I adjusted the necklace with my initial on my chest and took one last look in the mirror. The red lipstick highlighted my lips in a way that I wasn't sure if it was pretty or obscene. But I tried to push that thought away since I had already changed my lipstick 3 times in the last few minutes.

-Calm down. -I whispered to myself as I stared at my reflection.

I was still in disbelief at everything that had happened in my life, everything had gone so well in the last few years, but I didn't think it would reach this point. Being part of the creative direction of a brand the size of Valentino is much more than I dreamed of. But here I am, in London, my new home since the last year, working with much more than I dreamed of. The work is wonderful, and even though I don't use my own designs, I help manage everything that involves the brand and the collections.

When all that happened between me and Lewis, for a moment I thought that my plan was not going to work, I was afraid of having given up the best thing in my life for a dream far from coming true. It was hard at first and to this day I think a lot about how it could have been, but I don't regret for a second the decision I made, even though it hurt for years.

I needed the maturity that time brings to be able to remember Lewis with a smile on my face, and I admit that I haven't stopped cheering for him at any moment in all this time. Seeing him win 2 world titles and go on his way to 3rd makes me the happiest and proudest person in the world. But I know that our story had an end, and it took me a while to accept that, but eventually, it happened, I was able to make peace with my decision and the end of our relationship. And today I only feel gratitude for everything we've experienced together.

I took out my phone and checked for one last time the address of the location where the cocktail presentation of the new Valentino collection would take place. As much as I've been at this job for a while, I still haven't gotten used to all the extravagance around it, cocktails like this are something I don't know if I'll ever get used to.

❀

I got out of the car and thanked the driver before closing the door, I looked at the large building and felt intimidated by its size. The marble stairs and columns of the hall only showed a little of all the majesty contained within the place. All the decorations in the party hall were in the beautiful shade of Valentino pink and I couldn't imagine anything more than such good taste.

It didn't take me long to find my coworkers near the bar, the place was full and I didn't know most of the people. There were guests, employees, and other stylists from all over the world. Valentino didn't skimp a bit on this cocktail.

-Angie! -I had left my colleagues and gone to explore the hall when I heard his voice calling me.

-Paolo, my dear! How are you?

Paolo is the head director of Valentino, he was the one who discovered me in Paris and called me to work for his brand, and over time we ended up becoming great friends.

-Oh I'm good. Everything is perfect. -Paolo handed me his arm, which I accepted. We started to walk together through the hall. -What a wonderful dress, I wonder what talented hand signed it.

I chuckled at his statement and patted my hand lightly on his. My dress screams Valentino.

-The best of all, of course.

Paolo was leading me around the room and he seemed to be looking for someone.

-Come bella, I want to introduce you to our main model of this new collection.

-I thought we would keep on with Miles, no?!

-Oh no, I think this new collection deserves someone with more…Personality, you know? And luckily we managed to find someone that is perfect for the job.

I was looking at Paolo while walking, so when we got to that person, I didn't notice who it was until I heard his name.

-Lewis, let me introduce you to our creative director. - He turned to us and I could see the panic in his eyes as he landed on me. I wasn't any different. No fucking way. -Angie, this is Lewis Hamilton. You must know him, great formula 1 driver, and our newest model for the new campaign.

Oh no.

No.

Please no.

The pain I was feeling in my feet because of the high heels disappeared from one second to another. Suddenly I don't feel anything anymore, the huge hall became a small room the moment I realized who was in front of me. I squeezed Paolo's arm unconsciously, I have no idea how my face is at that moment, but if my shock is showing, I'm letting everyone know how surprised I am to see him again.

I feel like I might pass out, it's like all my blood has been drained from my body, I'm freezing, trying to process everything and not end up throwing up right here in front of everyone.

Lewis looks so different. But at the same time, he looks exactly the same person I left at Stevenage nine years ago. It's almost an insult to how the passage of time has only served to make him even more attractive.

I want to run out of this room and not look back, but at the same time, I could also stay here for hours, looking at him and marking in my mind everything that changed in his body and everything that remains exactly the same. Like his eyes, those beautiful eyes that I would recognize anywhere in this world and at any moment in my life, those same eyes that cried with me, and that same lips that made me promises in vain.

I want to cry, I want to hug him and then punch him. All at once. But of course, I won't do any of those things, instead, I'll just stand here, looking at him and pretending that I'm fine and that the memories of years ago don't affect me anymore. I was very wrong to make myself believe that I could get over this man who is now standing right in front of me.

I can't stop looking at him, but from my peripheral vision I can feel Paolo's gaze beside me, burning me, I know I have to do something, but I don't know how. But then Lewis does it for me, and I see his hand move from the side of his body, and extend it in front of me, waiting for a handshake.

-Nice to meet you, Angie.

Wait a second. What? He will pretend he doesn't know me? If I looked confused before, it's only increased now. Why would he do that?

why the fuck is he acting like he doesn't know me??

I was static and it took a little push from Paolo to bring me back to reality. I quickly shake his hand, trying not to stay in contact with him any longer than necessary. And hoping my shaking hands would go unnoticed by him and Paolo

-The pleasure is mine.

I don't know why I didn't deny it either, I could have said something but I didn't. I just followed his game, whatever it is. I don't want to extend this one second longer than necessary.

Lewis smiles at me, which makes my stomach churns with anxiety, that's not his smile, I know him. That smile now is like a programmed, studied, and rehearsed smile. I was there when the smiles were real and unscarred, I spent hours on end looking at that smile and laughing with it, analyzing every detail of its features when there was just enough happiness in it for me to tattoo in my mind. And there's a big difference to that smile now. I hope with all my heart that this is a consequence of his nervousness and not a change that came with these years we spent apart. It would be mean to the world for people not to have the opportunity to see the perfection of his true smile.

I don't smile back at him, if I try to curl my lips into a smile the chances are I'll get the exact opposite and start crying.

I can hear Paolo's voice in the background, but when I start to pay attention Paolo has already stopped talking and is now looking at me with a face that I can't interpret as being too angry or too embarrassed, either way, I can see it in his face how screwed I am.

-Yes. I can't wait to start working with you, I've already had the opportunity to see some pieces, and from what I believe it will be a great collection. -Lewis says looking intently at Paolo. At this point, I no longer know if the question was directed at me or Lewis.

They start talking about the brand, but I can't pay attention to anything. I took my eyes off Lewis and since then the noise in my mind seems to have gotten even bigger. I don't take long to find an excuse and get out of there.

I go to the bathroom and lock the door, the high collar of my dress manages to make me feel even more suffocated, I take one, two, twenty breaths before trying to get my thoughts in order. This is not right, he is a formula 1 driver, I work in the fashion industry, and our paths would never cross, I know that. I thought about it for a long time. I planned my steps so as not to run into his, it was supposed to be a safe field and away from Lewis. Why is this happening? Why now? Just when I was thinking less about us, imagining us less. Suffering less for us.

Us...

And now it's all gone, all the effort I've made to get him out of my mind, and he appears right in front of me, in flesh, blood, and Valentino.

I should have been part of the decision for the new model. I think about talking with Paolo that I don't like Lewis as our principal model, but I couldn't do that, and it's too late for a change like that anyway. I even think about resigning, but that is out of the question, not when it took me years to live this dream, and not because of a ghost from my past that I insisted on keeping alive.

At the end of the day, I'll just have to deal with it and live the next few weeks running from Lewis. And just thinking about it makes me feel suffocated again.

I take out my phone and check the notifications, I come across an angry Paolo in my messages.

"What’s wrong with you?"

"Why did you treat our model that way, Angie? Are you insane?"

"You're lucky I love you and your work is phenomenal, otherwise I swear you were out. I'm so pissed at you."

-Shit.

God, I could scream right now, everything happening all at once. I type and delete a reply to Paolo several times, not sure what to say to him. What excuse can I make for what just happened?

"Sorry, I don't know what just happened to me. I promise it won't happen again."

I send the message to Paolo and check the hours before locking my phone screen. Two more hours and I can go home. Two more hours, that's all, and I'll go home, throw myself under the covers, and never come out.

I leave the bathroom and go back to where I was before my night turned into this craziness.

-Can I have a whiskey on the rocks? -I ask the bartender as soon as I lean against the bar counter. He didn't take long to serve my drink. I swallow all of the amber liquid in a few sips, the burn of the alcohol going down my throat doesn't have the immediate effect I'd like it to, I can still feel my whole body tense. I don't think even an alcoholic coma could calm me down at this moment.

The bar is emptier, most people are now on the dancefloor. I try to spot Lewis but he's nowhere to be seen, I want to make sure I'm at a safe distance from him.

After putting down my glass on the marble counter, I get off the stool and walk outside, which is even emptier. I light a cigarette and try to dissipate him from my mind. Don't blame me, 4 years in Paris makes anyone a smoker.

I try with all the tactics I've developed over the years to put him out of my thoughts. Even after all this time I still haven't found the secret formula for it.

I smell him before I hear his voice, the smell that's been imbued in my brain since the last hour when we meet again. His new fragrance is enjoyable, certainly an expensive perfume that he can now afford it without any difficulty.

-That's not a healthy habit. As I recall you hated that sort of thing.

I turn to face him.

-Oh, so you remember me.

He gives me a wanton half-smile that makes me mad.

- I'm sorry, I didn't know what to say there. I don't want people to start to assume anything.

Pretentious.

-And why would people start to assume anything? -I put out my cigarette and throw it into the ashtray beside me.

His half-smile disappears. He doesn't answer me. I wait a few seconds before realizing that that was the end of our conversation.

So I walk past him to head back into the party.

I feel his fingers wrap around my wrist and

by the surprise of the contact, I stop immediately to look at him. Lewis is inches away from me now, and if it weren't for the whiskey and the cigarette I would probably already exploded from the tension by now.

He's so close, too close to make me intoxicated, too close to stop me from thinking clearly.

-Let's talk. Please. -His voice is so low that I have to think twice if he really just said that, or if it was just my imagination.

-We don't have anything to talk about, Lewis.

I calmly let go of him and start climbing the stairs to enter the hall.

-We meet again like this, after all this time, after everything we've had, our whole history. Don't you think it means something?

I laugh at his comment. I go down the few steps I managed to climb before being interrupted and return to the position I was before.

-It means you agreed to be a model for the brand I work for and now I'm going to have to deal with you for weeks until this is all over. That's all it means. -I went back up the stairs while holding my dress so I wouldn't end up stepping on it. How dare he say that kind of thing when I was the one suffering for him while he was with someone else this whole time? I turned myself to him one last time. -And we didn't have anything. No “history” at all, Lewis, for God's sake. We're childhood sweethearts that ended up nowhere.

I leave Lewis behind and return to the party even more nervous. It doesn't take long for the cocktail party to end and everyone starts to leave the area. I was already leaving the place when Paolo pulls me to the corner.

-Are you okay? What happened there?

Paolo doesn't look nervous anymore, he looks at me with curiosity.

-I am. I'm sorry about that, I really don't know what happened to me. I already managed to apologize to him too. -Lie.

-Yes, I saw you talking out there. -Shit. I didn't need one more thing to worry about today -Do you guys know each other?

-No. -I lie. - I've seen him before but we've never been introduced.

I wish like never before that Paolo had not heard our discussion, I don't know how I would explain to him everything that happened. But Paolo doesn't seem to have any doubts about my answer, and that calms me down.

He nodded and was already walking away from me when I called him back.

-Paolo.- I didn't think I would have the audacity to ask him that. -Why didn't I participate in the meeting to decide on the new model? I should have participated, it's part of my job.

-Cause there was no meeting. He was the one who offered to be a model, and we just accepted. I didn't know that this could be a problem for you.

I freeze for a second before answering him. Why would Lewis do that? Of all the brands in the world and he offers fair sponsorship with Valentino. I can't help but think he already knew he'd find me here, and thinking about that makes my stomach churn.

-No. It's not. I was just curious.

I smile trying to hide my perplexity from Paolo.

-Alright. See you on Monday then.

I say goodbye to Paolo and head out of the hall. Still confused. Still unable to believe everything that just happened.

I get in the car and greet the driver. I thank heaven for the end of the night, I close my eyes and wait for the car to start moving, but instead what happens is the door next to me opens. I look at who it is and I can't believe who I find getting in the seat next to mine.

-No fucking way. -At this point, I'm not even trying to keep my composure anymore.

-There are no more cars available and my hotel is close to your destination so they put us together. -Lewis slams the door and settles down next to me.

-No more cars available? In such a huge event like this? And you want me to believe that?

-I do. Because I'm telling the truth. I would call a taxi but we're in the middle of nowhere, it's two in the morning and I'm tired.

I'm too physically and emotionally exhausted to do anything, so I stay in my seat and hope the time passes quickly. Even before the car leaves I close my eyes and pretend I'm sleeping so I don't have to talk to him. But even with my eyes closed I can feel his gaze on me and it makes me mad with anger.

-Stop it. -I say with my eyes closed.

-Stop with what?

-Staring at me, stop it.

-I just want to be able to talk to you and explain myself.

-Why? For what? -I don't want to open my eyes and have to deal with him. In that way, I can pretend this is all just a dream.

-Cause I know how much it hurts you, and it hurt me too. And I want to be able to explain myself and make you understand my side of it all.

I opened my eyes finally facing the reality standing next to me.

-I think you're a little too late for that. -Lewis looked the most serious I had ever seen in my life, and with every word that came out of my mouth, his attention seemed redoubled. -You never came after me for anything. And after that last call, I stopped to exist in your life. And you just appeared now by an unfortunate coincidence of fate.

-Stop it, Angie.

-Stop with what? -My voice is higher now.

-Stop treating me like that.

I laugh in an amused tone, even though I'm not amused at the moment.

-You treated me much worse than that.

I could barely look at him anymore. Suddenly all those sensations from the beginning invaded me, everything that I thought was healed was shown to be even more harmed. I open the window in a frustrated attempt to breathe better inside that car.

-For someone who says we had nothing, you seem to be pretty upset.

I glared at him when I heard those words.

- Forget it, Lewis.

-No. Please. I want to listen to you, and I want you to listen to me. Let’s do this. But with a clear head. Let me take you to lunch tomorrow.

-Forget about it. No. You lost your chance.

-Please. Please, that's all I ask of you. We're going to have to deal with each other for the next few weeks. Let's at least try to work it out and get out of this situation as friends.

My laugh echoed through the car.

-Friends?! Do you really think there's any chance of us being "friends" someday?

-Stop being defensive. -He's angry too. I can see it in his eyes. I don't know if he's angry at the situation or me. But I hope he's angry at himself.

-It was you who put me here. It was you who did this to me.

His expression changed to concern.

-I'm sorry.

-Listen Lewis. Here is the thing. Let's act like we really don't know each other. Let's deal with each other during these weeks and when it's finally over, we go live our lives like we were doing until today.

We get in silence for a couple of minutes, I thought the conversation was finally over, but it didn't take long for him to go back to talking.

-Just a lunch. And I promise I'll leave you alone. Just have lunch with me tomorrow so we can talk. -Lewis looks at me with a puppy face that I didn't know was capable on the face of a man in his 30s. -I'm a different person now. And so are you.

I sigh in defeat and finally give in to his request, I just want him to be quiet.

-Okay. A lunch. And nothing more.

-Perfect. Nothing more.

Suddenly he can't keep his smile to himself. Me on the other hand come back to close my eyes and wait for the end of the trip.

It doesn't take long for the driver to stop in front of the building where I live. I thank him and get out of the car. I hear the other door slam as well and I know that Lewis has come after me.

-This building looks great. -He says while pulling his hands in his pockets.

-It's not mine. My boyfriend lives here.

A huge lie, there is no boyfriend. After Lewis, I had only a few relationships that didn't pass from a one-night stand that didn't result in anything. The truth is that I never felt the way I was used to feel by his side. And when I learn that nobody could ever take his place in my life, I just gave up trying. But obviously, I won't admit this to him. And besides that, I wanted to see what would be his reaction to the false information.

-Oh. -He couldn't even hide it. It's ridiculous that he would even consider getting upset over something like that. We are complete strangers now. -I understood.

I give him a forced smile. At least one point for me tonight.

-So. Anyway. At what time I can pass to pick you up tomorrow?

As soon as possible so that this ends soon.

-I don't know.

-Noon sounds good?

-Yes. Noon it's fine.

-Okay. Deal. See you tomorrow.

I saw him returning to the vehicle and watched him leaving the street. I take a deep breath, already regretting my decision.

❀

How to look stunning without seeming like you've spent hours trying?

Not that I've spent hours trying. It's just that... Whatever.

It's past noon. I've always hated being late, but this time I confess it's kind of on purpose. There's no message on my phone because I didn't get to give him my number yesterday. We agreed it would just be a simple lunch, there's no reason for him to have any form of contact with me.

I should change this outfit, all this blue is not matching. But anyway it's ridiculous to put that much effort into it.

I grab my purse and look at myself in the mirror one last time.

Blue will have to do.

I find Lewis leaning against his car at the entrance of the building. His casual outfit makes him even more attractive than he was yesterday. Now in the sunlight, I can see even more details, I notice the tattoos on his skin and how they only add to the fearless aura he's adopted over the last few years. As much as he looks completely changed, I still see that boy in front of me, so it's hard for me to believe in this whole new person he built.

-You look beautiful.

-Thank you. -He didn't realize I spent too much time getting ready, did he? He's just being nice. -Sorry I'm late.

-Don’t worry. Can we go? -Lewis opens the door of his car and waits for me to get in.

-Where are we going? Cause there's a restaurant around the corner that is amazi...

-Actually. -He cuts me off mid-sentence, leaving me gesticulating in the air. -I already have everything planned.

-Oh...Okay then.

I get in the car and wait for him. Allowing my ex-boyfriend who I haven't seen in 9 years take me somewhere "surprise" is as scary as it sounds.

We've been traveling the streets of London for some time now, the silence inside this car it's loud, not embarrassing, but it's like there's an elephant in the back seat that neither of us wants to talk about it.

-You still drive a manual. -I say, cutting the silence.

Lewis laughs before answering me. The first laugh from him I've heard in person in 9 years, and it sounds exactly the same. That's his real smile, without any mask, I'm happy to see it's still there.

-Of course. If I don't shift gears, it doesn't even feel like I'm actually driving.

-Apparently, that hasn't changed.

-A lot of things stay exactly the same, Angie. -He looks at me, taking his attention off the road for a few seconds. I feel myself burning in my seat and try not to make eye contact with him for those few seconds.

-You seem calmer. -Lewis waited a while to talk to me again. Maybe he was waiting for an answer.

-I had more time to try to understand the situation.

-So? What conclusion did you come to?

-That the universe hates me.

Lewis's smile faded and I immediately felt bad about it. As much as he hurt me, I don't want to be mean to him. What happened was a long time ago and I know better than anyone how time can change people, I do believe he is a completely different person than the one who did that to me. Anyway, I knew what was going to happen, I have no right to get mad and take it out on Lewis, not after nine years of all that shit.

I don't apologize to him. But I promised myself that I would try to be pleasant.

Lewis took the highway and we were moving for a while, I wasn't paying attention to the road until we passed the London exit.

-Lewis, why are we leaving London? Where are we going?

-Calm down. You will see it soon. Another 40 minutes and we get there. But you'll figure it out before that.

-You're not going to kill me and throw me on the side of the road, are you?

Lewis laughed before answering me.

-Naah. My time is too precious to spend that way. If that were the case, I would pay someone to do the job or something. -I giggled at him and slapped his arm lightly. -Relax. I think you'll like it.

I took the freedom to turn on the radio but regretted it as soon as I did. The melody of in my place by Coldplay started to play through the vehicle. I was washed over again by memories of years ago. My laugh from seconds before was replaced by sadness, I promised myself that I wouldn't think about what could have become of us anymore, but it's impossible when he's right next to me, humming a song that we used to listen to and sing together all the time.

Calm down. It's just lunch. In a few hours, this comes to an end.

I started to get anxious when I realized which way Lewis was going. Suddenly the highways began to feel more familiar. I was already out of breath, and when we passed the sign that indicated the arrival in the city, I was restless.

-Lewis, why did you bring me here? -I had difficulty speaking, and my voice came out in a whisper.

-I thought it would be a good idea. Remember the old times.

There was joy in his voice as if being back at Stevenage by my side didn't bring him all the suffering it brings me.

I look outside and try to focus on the streets of Stevenage, it's been so long since the last time. I don't come here too often cause everything in this town reminds me of Lewis and our moments together. If I want to see my parents,

I always end up sending tickets for them to come to visit me.

We passed my old neighborhood, then his. I don't know where exactly he's taking me, but it's already clear that he wants to go through all of "our" places before talking to me. It didn't take long before Lewis parks the car, and only then I do realize where we are.

-Is this place still up? -It's the first thing I've said since we entered the city.

-Of course. Tony's is the best place in town. -We used to come here all the time. Lewis would pick me up at the school exit and drive me here religiously every week, sometimes more than once. -We used to come all the time, remember?

I nodded without looking at him. How could I forget? We spent our best moments here, eating cheese pizza and reading old copies of the Rolling Stones magazine that Tony kept in the back of the little diner.

Lewis gets out of the car but I stay there a little longer, trying to prepare myself for God knows what's going to happen next. I'm taken out of my thoughts with Lewis opening the passenger door, my stare that until then was fixed on the facade of the place goes to him, who is bent towards me, holding out his hand and waiting for me to get out of the car. I take his hand and I don't know how, but I manage to keep myself firmly on the ground as I get out of the vehicle.

I cut off our contact as soon as I exit the vehicle. Lewis gesticulates for me to go ahead of him, which I do. I take slow steps until I reach the diner entrance door.

I can't remember the exact moment I realized over 10 years ago that I was in love with Lewis. But I remember all the times I looked at him and got butterflies in my stomach, I remember all the times I thought "this can't be" when it came to my feelings for him. And a lot of those moments were here, after class, sitting next to him watching him talk about some weird band he was into at the time. Him bringing me here, after all this time, is such a low blow. Very low blow.

I knew accepting this lunch wouldn't be a good idea, I know I won't be strong enough to say no if Lewis decides he wants to be part of my life again in any way. Not here, not at Tony's.

I walk into the restaurant and it's like I've gone back in time, I know this place has become traditional here in Stevenage, but keeping everything exactly the same that way is bizarre. Even the colors are the same. The beige walls that were out of fashion 13 years ago are still intact.

Lewis comes right behind me and I can see how that took him by surprise too.

-They didn't even change that stool that sticks the ass of everyone who sits on it. - He whispered close to my ear.

The sound of my loud laughter echoed throughout the place. There was hardly anyone there, but I ended up drawing unnecessary attention thanks to Lewis's joke. But he didn't look angry, on the opposite, he started laughing with me.

We went up to the counter and saw Tony coming out of the back of the store. Tony is one of the few things here that have changed. When we used to come here, he was a middle-aged guy, too skinny, and he had a huge mustache that covered his mouth. He's much older now, with a protruding belly and gray hair, but the mustache is still there. Tony came over to us with a frown.

-Good afternoon. Are you guys ready to order? -His features immediately changed as soon as he laid his eyes on us. -My God. Angie?!

-Hi Tony. - I feel shy about his reaction.

-And this boy. No. It can not be. Lewis? Is that you son?

-Yes sir. In flesh and blood.

Lewis came out from behind me and walked over to the old man, giving him a handshake.

-Oh, it's great to see you two. It seems like it was only yesterday that you came here almost every day to test my patience. So does that mean you guys are still together? How life is. When is it supposed to be...

-No Tony. - I interrupted him. If he keeps saying these things I'm going to freak out. -Actually, we met again yesterday after a long time. And for some reason, Lewis thought it would be a good idea to bring me here today.

Tony turned red, probably embarrassed by this situation. But definitely not as embarrassed as I am right now. Both Tony and Lewis stare at me without knowing what to say.

-So. Can we order now? - I asked trying to get their attention back.

-Yes of course. -Lewis says while going back to where he was before going to the other side of the counter to greet Tony.

-Let's see. Two large slices? What flavor?

-Cheese. Obviously. -I said smiling are the man. Lewis nodded behind me.

-Okay. Your table is free, you can go there. I'll bring the food in a minute.

-Thanks, Tony. -We say in unison and walk to "our table", which is right in the corner of the restaurant, near the large glass window.

Anxiety comes back to me as soon as I sit down and face Lewis. Lewis sat in the back while I sat in the front seat. We decided on these places when we were 14 years old, and after all this time we're still loyal to them. It's impossible to look at Lewis now and not see that boy that I fell in love with, with the addition of braids and tattoos, but still, it's Lew.

Lewis picks up the menu on the table and starts flipping through it, he looks relaxed, the complete opposite of me right now.

-What are you doing? -Lewis takes his gaze off the menu and directs it at me.

-Choosing something to drink.

-No. What are you doing? Why did you bring me here, Lewis?

My voice doesn't come out as calm as I'd like, I don't think even if I tried hard I could sound less nervous than I am. My hands are clenched so tightly together that I'm already cramping.

-I told you why.

-No. You gave me a half-baked explanation that I didn't believe for a second. -Lewis lowers the menu and starts paying full attention to me. And I don't know if that's better or worse. -It's not like I'm an old friend that you lost contact with. We ended things, and it wasn't even in a friendly way. I'm just trying to understand what the hell you're doing.

-Maybe it wasn't a good idea to bring you here.

His voice is lower than normal.

-Maybe not. But here we are.

Lewis no longer looks at me. His stare is now at my hands. I take a deep breath before asking the question.

-Lewis. - He turns his gaze back to me. -Why did you come back?

I can feel my eyes burning, I can't let myself cry, but here in this place, and with him, I want to burst into tears.

-Because I realized I should have never left.

I look at him in disbelief, I can feel my vision beginning to blur because of the insistent tears, but I soon wipe my eyes, not letting him see for one more second the effect he is having on me.

-Here it is kids, Two large slices of cheese.

I didn't even notice Tony coming towards us. I don't look at him while he serves us. I look at Lewis, trying to digest what I'd just heard, trying not to freak out right here, and ended up walking back to London. Lewis thanks Tony and then turns his eye to me. He looks just as scared as I am, as if he's shocked by his own spoken words. I'm static, a million thoughts run through my mind, I need a few seconds to try to put everything in order and answer Lewis.

-Do you realize how mean this is to me?

I lean back in my chair, pulling myself distant from him, unconsciously trying to feel safer.

-It's just the truth.

He also looks perplexed, his eyes sparkle but there is also a lot of sadness in the black orbs staring at me.

-I don't want that, that truth doesn't interest me anymore, Lewis. Do you have any idea how I was? The state that you left me in after all?

The memories I try to forget come back in maximum intensity, and this time I can no longer hide the tears. Fortunately, I know that there's barely anyone around, but even if there were hundreds of people in this room, I wouldn't be able to tell.

-I never stopped thinking about you, never. I was placed in a completely new environment, with new people, with the life I had always dreamed of. And I talked about you all the time to everyone. But you told me yourself that it wasn't going to work, and I suddenly started to believe it. I started to believe it because it seemed like a completely different world from the one I lived by your side. And I wasn't sure if you would fit into this new life.

He's fussing, putting words on top of words, gesticulating as if his life depended on it. He took a few seconds but then returned to explain himself.

-And I made the wrong decision. I know, I act like an asshole. I was with someone else and I knew the pictures were going to leak. I did it because I didn't want to make the decision, so I put it in your hands, and you made it for me. And it was a ridiculous and childish attitude, I know. I see this now. And I hated myself for years because of that. But it was the only way I found at the time. -I can see the tears in his eyes and I get a little surprised after I realize that. -And again, I'm sorry about that, Angie. I apologize to you, and I apologize for us and our past. What I did wasn't right.

He stopped, he had to, his voice was getting louder, that way everyone would hear. I remain in the same position, motionless, but now with my arms crossed and my face wet with tears. It's not over, I know that now comes the other part, the resentment part, the part that's gonna kill me.

-But you didn't try it either. -Now his voice is much lower. -You were the first person to try to leave, you said it wouldn't work even before you left my room that night. You looked into my eyes and told me it wasn't going to work. And that was the image that haunted me during those months.

His hands go up from the table to his eyes, wiping away the tears that have started to fall. He looks around for a second before leaning across the table towards me.

-I'm here now and I brought you here because I want you to forgive me. I want to be able to start over with you, because I'm done torturing myself with this. And I want to resolve things with you. I want to listen to you, because I need to listen to you, I need to know how you're doing. I want to die every time I think that everything we've had has come to nothing, I don't want it to be like this. I don't want it all to be in vain.

With tears in his eyes, Lewis smiles at me before continuing.

-I think every day about how our conversations would be, and how you would tell me every little thing that happened in your day. I want to know everything about you. I feel like I'm facing a woman who was the love of my life and who is now a complete stranger, and it hurts so much. I suffered too, Angie. So please forgive me. I don't want to live with these thoughts anymore, I want to make it happen. But if you tell me no, if you don't want to forgive me, I'll understand, and I'll be able to put an end to it no matter how much I don't want to. I just need something, anything from you. I can't accept this torturing me anymore. So you can send me to hell if you want. But if you feel, even in a tiny part of you, that you can forgive me, then please forgive me.

I stare at the table and the two untouched slices of pizza are blurred because of my tears. I don't know if I can look at him. I don't know if I can formulate a sentence right now. I want to get up from here, I want to hug him and then ask for his forgiveness. But I don't do anything, I'm frozen in my place, and I only move to breathe so I can cry more.

I don't know how long we remain in silence before I started to speak.

-I want to be able to forgive you. And I'm sorry about all of that. But what do I do with the old Angie that is screaming inside of me begging me to run from here and from you?!

I lean across the table and take the same position as Lewis.

-I went through a lot, and the beginning was so hard that I thought that I wouldn't be able to get over it. I was having the worst time of my life because of you while you were exhibiting her off in the paddock. I want to forgive you, and I believe you’ve changed. But I don't know if I would be strong enough to see it with my own eyes.

-Let me show you that I'm worthy of a second chance. Let's start over as if we just met. Just give me a few weeks like this, and if after that you decided that you don’t want to look at me anymore then we never have to talk to each other again.

I can see the suffering on his face. I can see his transformation in every speech and gesture. And all of this only manages to make me even more confused.

-I need a minute.

I leave the table and walk outside the diner. I don't look at him while getting off the place. When I reach the open area I take a deep breath. As if until now I had been underwater and had finally managed to reach the surface.

I control my emotions and manage to stop crying, the lump in my throat feels a little smaller now. I needed to listen to him, needed his explanation. I spent all those years believing that everything we had was not reciprocated. I felt like an idiot this whole time. Hearing those words from him made all difference in my way of seeing our situation.

I'm glad I accepted this date.

I don't know how long I spent out here. I only get out of my thoughts when I hear Lewis calling me.

-Are you okay?

I nod as I watch Lewis coming out of the diner door and walk towards me. He sits next to me on the curb right after. He also looks composed. The street is empty, and apart from his Mercedes, there are no cars around. I look straight ahead, while he's staring at me.

-Valentino didn't invite you to be a model. You volunteered. -It's not a question. I say without looking at him.

-That's true.

He doesn't seem shocked to hear that I know about it.

-Why?

-I knew you were there. And I knew this would be the only way to get close to you without you running away from me. I like Valentino. But there was a greater force.

I pull my gaze away from the road and look at him. There must be confusion on my face because it doesn't take long for Lewis to explain himself.

-Not that I'm a stalker or anything like that. -He chuckles. -But since I found out that you worked there, I haven't gotten you out of my mind. And those memories got even stronger. I didn't rest until I called Paolo and offered myself as a model.

-Why now? I understand you spent all this time thinking about it. But why just now? -My voice is low. I feel shy after his confession.

-Cause If I had come earlier, you wouldn't have accepted me. You needed your time to heal as I needed mine. And if I came before, would you listen to me? Would you come here with me? You would run away, I'm sure of it. Because Whether you like it or not, I know you very well.

-So it was all a plan?

I play with a piece of dry twig I found on the ground so I don't have to look at him.

-No. Many things happened by fate. But since the moment I hung up the phone that day 9 years ago, I've been thinking about how to get you back.

I know what I'm going to end up doing the moment I hear the words coming out of his mouth, I have to do this not just for myself but for both of us. I would be supposing what would become of us for the rest of my life if I said no. I need to know if this is going to work out or not. I deserve it, and so does he.

-As if we had just met? - I look at him to wait for the answer. I see his face lighting up before my eyes, and I can feel the butterflies in my stomach.

-Yes. As if we just met.

His smile makes me smile too. I nod to him, accepting his request. Lewis extends his hand to me in a greeting form.

-Nice to meet you. I'm Lewis Hamilton.

I laugh at his performance but soon join in the fun and shake his hand.

-Nice to meet you, Lewis. My name is Angie Woods.

❀

I get up from the chair I've been sitting in for hours and go to my bag so I can pack my stuff.

Paolo and the rest of our team say goodbye to me and then leave the meeting room. I make my way to my office and run to finish some paperwork before calling it a day. The pre-season is consuming me all over. I've barely had time to do anything else that wasn't work related in the last week. I saw Lewis a few times at the company doing some photoshoots, but we haven't had time to talk in person since our date because of all the work that surrounds us.

But the text messages haven't stopped coming since that day. It ranges from a simple good morning to complex conversations about our life. I was able to try to understand him more during these conversations, and I am happy with the new person he has shown himself to be. He manages to put together the same essence as before, with all the learning from now, and all of this ends up forming a wonderful person.

I'm not putting expectations related to what I feel for him. I promised myself I would let it happen, and that's what I'm doing. He's given me the space he promised to so I could get used to this new idea, and that's what counts.

I was startled when I hear the office door being opened, it’s past eleven at night, and I didn't think there would be anyone else in the building. I turn quickly to the door and find Lewis staring at me, halfway into the room.

-Jesus! You almost scared me to death. - I put my hand on my chest as a way to calm myself down. - You don't knock anymore?

-Sorry. - He laughs at my despair. -I wasn't sure if you were still here.

-Still here. This pre-season is killing me. But at least it's almost over.

Lewis was still staring at me in the same position.

-I wanted to talk to you.

-Sure. Come in.

Lewis finally enters the room and closes the door. He comes calmly towards me, getting very close. Way too close. I'm leaning against my desk and observing him intently. He looks gorgeous. The casual outfit only makes him even more beautiful, as if that were possible. But I soon realize that something is bothering him.

He takes a deep breath to start talking but stops before emitting any word. His stare goes to my chest and lingers there for a few seconds. I see his features go from confusion to happiness in seconds. His hand goes to my chest, so he carefully takes the pendant from my necklace. The same necklace he gave me the year we met. I feel my cheeks burn with shyness.

-You still have it.

We are so close that even though his voice comes out in a whisper, I can hear it perfectly.

-I swore I'd never take it off, and I never did. It's been with me ever since. - My voice comes out in the same intonation as his.

Lewis drops the pendant but doesn't move an inch away from me. I'm starting to get used to and enjoy his proximity. His gaze moves from my necklace to my eyes, and I can see genuine happiness in his features.

-You really are the same Angie as always, aren't you?! -I don't quite understand what he means by that, so I don't answer his question. -Since always with the same passion for everything, even if it hurts you sometimes.

-I believe in benevolence.

-I know, and that's one of my favorite things in you.

His smile suddenly fades, and then he starts talking again.

-I will be back to racing in two weeks. I finished all work with Valentino today. I must go back to Monaco in a few days.

-Oh. Got it.

Lewis comes even closer, I'm already in amazement at his figure so close to me after all this time. His scent makes me dizzy and I can feel his breath on my face. I should walk away, all this closeness is getting dangerous, but I don't want to move at all now.

-I won't stay away for too long. -His hand goes to my hair that was resting on my shoulder and throws it back in a slight movement. -I'll be back in the second week of September. You will be here, right? And I will be able to see you.

-Of course.

At this point, I'm not even paying attention to what comes out of my mouth. All my focus is on him and his movements.

-Great. -His hand comes to my face very carefully, I feel a shock the moment his skin touches mine, ah that touch, how I thought of it, sometimes I swore I could feel it. I close my eyes for a second to enjoy the feel of his warm touch on my skin.

That Lewis, with all this seduction, self-assured, is a new personality that I am appreciating very much. My head tilts to the side a little, to get more of his touch.

God, how needy I am.

Lewis comes up to my exposed ear and whispers to me.

-I want to give something to you, A recent memory of the two of us.

-What kind of memory?

My eyes open, and I find a look of lust in front of me. I feel his hand moving from my cheek to the back of my neck.

I can't let this happen. That will end with my critical sense, I know that. But this trance is so good, I don't want to be over.

His hand lands there and pulls me a little closer to him, he moves even closer to my body, placing himself between my legs. I put my hands on his arms, as a way of preparing myself to push him away, or as a way of feeling more parts of him.

-Lewis, we can't.

My head resting on his hand, my hands holding his arms, his legs in the middle of my body, and every inch of my body screaming for him, it's clear as day how much I want this, and he can see it. Satisfaction is printed on his face.

Who am I kidding?

-How can we not if you're calling for me right now?

I don't know who takes the first step, but soon we connect in a kiss full of hunger and longing, the kiss is fast as if we were trying to make up for all the lost time.

He's even better at it, his hands roaming strategic places to drive me crazy. I don't think about what we're doing, I don't think about the possibility of someone coming in and seeing this scene, I just think about him, and how he got better, about his heavy body pressing against mine, and how this is going to drive me completely crazy.

I sit down at the large wooden table, and his hands roam my body as if he wants to memorize every little thing that has changed in me. The hand on the back of my neck pulls my hair back, putting my neck in evidence, Lewis grabs it and distributes kisses and hickeys that I know will leave marks, but I don't care at all about that.

I take my hand to his pants on his lump. Lewis groans and then goes to the hem of my shirt, taking it off soon after.

-You have no idea how much I've waited for this. I spent all this time thinking of you, missing your taste, crazy waiting for this. -He says to me with a voice more rough than usual, his excitation implicit in every word spoken.

-Show me, Lew. Show me how much you missed me.

Lewis gets rid of my pants quickly after that, and shortly after I manage to help him take his underwear off. There's desperation in our movements, we want to connect like we've been waiting our whole lives for this, and the feeling is like something that.

I'm already soaked from the moment he walked into this room, so there's no difficulty for him to get inside me. We'd like to linger for hours in kisses and foreplay, but the need to feel each other is so immense that there's no room for anything else.

Lewis put himself inside me without hesitation, and our moans echoed throughout the room. He holds me and stares at me as I get used to his size. He seems even bigger than the last time, and the feeling borders on pain, but it is an immense pleasure that completes me, in every sense of the word.

-God. That pussy is so good. So tight for me.

Our eyes are connected from the beginning. The feel of his body on mine and his words make my body shiver. The lunges start at a diligent pace and our moans are released without any attempt to hold them back. Not caring about anything other than the two of us right now. Lewis picks me up and carries me to the small leather sofa in my office, I get on all fours and wait for him again.

-You look so beautiful like that. So beautiful to me. Ready to get this dick. -His words are followed by a slap on my ass. A loud moan escapes my lips along with the sound of his hand smacking me.

-Then come and fuck me the way only you know how to do it.

A grunt comes out of his mouth and he quickly positions himself on me again. The feeling is even more pleasurable. Lewis gives a few lunges and then pulls me close to his chest, his hand goes to my clit and stimulates me even more. My mouth is close to his, and our moans come out as one.

-I missed this so much. -He whispers in my ear. I can barely ratiocinate anymore, but I smile at his confession.

-Oh, I'm so close.

-Come. Come to me, my love. Come in this dick that is yours.

After that, I can't hold it in much longer, and the strong wave of orgasm hits me. Lewis connects his mouth to mine to quiet down the moaning sound since we're not even sure we're alone here.

My tremors made it clear that I couldn't take any more stimulation. I can't remember the last time I had an orgasm so fast and that powerful, it's like my body was waiting for him, and when I finally had it, I exploded with excitation.

Lewis gets out of me and sits on the couch. It doesn't take me a second to lower myself between his legs to finish what we started. His head falls back the moment I put my mouth on him. I take him where I can and with the help of my hands I stimulate his base, he's big and I end up choking a little. My saliva mixed with his pre-cum and my lubrication that's still in him.

-Oh how I love your mouth, my dear. -His voice comes out in an exacerbated exhale.

I could do this for hours, kneeling in front of him and feeling his cock fucking my mouth is like heaven. I play with my tongue on his glans before taking him back to the back of my throat, he moans loudly and takes his hands to my hair, starting to guide me in the movements. He squeezes my strands and starts to twitch and I know he's getting close.

-Angie, I'm gonna come. -I keep my mouth on him, and then I feel his jet going down my throat. -Yes. Swallow it all like the good girl you are. -He says between moans. It's so dirty and so good. And is with him.

Lewis pulls me up when he's finished and kisses me, we put our clothes on soon after, only then do we realize the risk we're taking with all of this, I feel ashamed and afraid that someone is still in the building and heard us, in this case, the dismissal would be least of my problems, but after what just happened I can say it would be worth it.

After getting dressed, we returned to the sofa to catch our breath. Lewis tucks me against his chest, and I remember how we loved staying like that all the time. Having that back for even a little time is incredible. I didn't think I would ever have that feeling back in my life.

-I didn't know you were the cheating type. -He says after a few minutes.

His comment confused me for the first few seconds, but then I remembered the fake boyfriend I made up.

-Great. Cause I'm not. -I feel ashamed even though I don't have a boyfriend, ashamed for making him think that I would be capable of doing something like that.

-What about your boyfriend?

-He’s not real.

I put myself away from his lap and look at him. Lewis laughs as he stares at me.

-Why did you lie about that? -His tone of voice is playful.

-I wanted to see the effect it would have on you. It was something of the moment. I just decided to say it, even though it was a lie.

I was honest with him. He looks at me intently but doesn't seem angry. He pulls me back to him, and we seal our lips. We kiss for a long time, and still, the feeling is that it will never be enough.

-We need to go. - I say in the middle of the kiss. He moans sadly.

-I don't want this to end. -His lips are still touching mine as he says this. -Come and spend these days with me.

I pull myself away a bit and look at him.

-I don't know Lew. I still have a few things to conclude, and I don't think this would be a good idea.

-C’mon. We can just hang out, we do good for each other, Angie. I know you can see that. And no matter what happened, we ended up here anyway. -He connects our lips quickly once again. -Let's surrender to this

As if we weren't already surrendered to each other right now.

I nod to him.

-Okay.

❀

I feel the weight of his body on top of mine. I smile before I even open my eyes. His kisses start at the back of my neck and work their way down to my bare back.

-Good morning. -He returns to my ear and whispers to me with the voice of someone who has just woken up.

I turn to him and open my eyes.

-Good morning. -The sight of Lewis, lying on my bed, with his unclothed torso full of tattoos and his face yet with traces of sleep makes me feel butterflies in my stomach.

I bring my hand to the lion drawn on his skin and trace it with my fingertips. My smile fades as I remember what day it is. The day he returns to Monaco.

The days that we spent together were more than perfect. I managed to finish my work before the deadline so we spent all the time together, sometimes in his hotel room, sometimes at my house, but always together somewhere, alone, and in a bed.

We talked about how we're going to do it after our schedules get full again because of work. We didn't put a label or expectations in our relationship, we don't want to make the same mistake as the first time. So we decided that we'll let ourselves go with the flow. Today traveling is much easier, and we do it more frequently. We're going to see each other when we can, and meanwhile continue living our lives, with our goals and objectives in priority, as it should be, and as it always was been.

He takes my hand from his chest and brings it to his lips, placing a kiss on my fingers.

-What time is your flight?

-At five. -Still, with my hand in contact with his, he interlaces our fingers together.

-You have to go pack your things, don't you? - The disappointment in my voice is evident.

-Uhmm. -He sounds as sad as I do.

-I didn't even see the days go by.

-It's because we were too busy. - I accompany Lewis in a laugh. -You could come with me.

-You know I can't. Fashion week will start soon, these days were a little break before the marathon to come.

-Okay. I understand. -He smiles at me. -It's great to see you conquering what you've always dreamed about.

I can't see myself, but I know my eyes light up when I hear his words. I'm relieved that Lewis understands and takes my dream as seriously as his own.

-Thanks. - My smile is sincere. At that moment, I'm completely exposed to him, showing how I've waited for this, even if deep down, how I've always been with him despite all the distance. I can't say that I have no doubts about any kind of relationship with him, but I can say that I'm happy to have received him back into my life. I feel at home in his arms like never before, and that hasn't changed even after all this time.

-You wait for me? -His hand tightens on mine as he utters the question. -I can come back in two weeks, just for a few days but at least we'll be able to see each other for a little while. If you want.

- I'll wait for you, Lew.

My voice cracks, and he notices. All of this feels like deja vu. I can feel part of my pride going down my throat. I don't want to feel that way, I know I gave him an opportunity I really wanted, and I don't regret it for a second. But I'm afraid of happening again. I don't know if I could go through all that again.

-I won't let it happen again. -It's like he read my mind. -I'll come back and get you.

❀

And he came back, after two weeks, as agreed. He came back and brought with him a bouquet of peonies and all the love in the world. It was only for a few days but the goodbye was different from the last time, this time there was no hesitation or fear, just the certainty that we would see each other again, and again, and again.

When he couldn't come to me, I went to him. We learned to deal with the distance and enjoy every day we had together. I got to know his coworkers and his life as a driver, I remembered all the times we spent in karting garages, but there's almost no comparison. Formula 1 is another level.

I celebrated each victory as if it were the first, just like he celebrated with me when I managed to open my studio and left Valentino. As time went by, living with him only made me more confident that I made the right decision, it didn't take long for any doubt to be solved. And suddenly everything was perfect again. As if we were still those two 13-year-olds. As if nothing had ever gone wrong.

I became the happiest person in the world by his side, and with each passing day, it becomes clearer that it was meant to be. It was supposed to be the two of us.

For a lifetime.

November 15, 2020. 2:52pm – Istanbul, Turkey

Tears rolled from my eyes. I've never felt so euphoric, so happy, and so proud in my life. He did it, he did it again, for the seventh time. I'm almost shaking with so much euphoria.

Angela walks over to me and hugs me. The whole garage erupts in celebration. Everyone's emotion is as if it was the first.

That will never get boring.

I hear his cry and his words as he crosses the finish line, and I cry even more. I watch him get out of the car, go to the podium and celebrate his masterpiece, I watch closely, with my eyes full of tears and with a pride that does not fit in my chest, after everything I have seen in person, after all the struggles I've seen them go through, after all the times I've watched him racing on TV and swore it would be the last time, but I just couldn't stop rooting for him.

I never stopped believing, not even for a second. Witnessing him get there, and achieve this feat, makes me the happiest woman in the world.

His eyes find me in the crowd and shine even brighter, he proudly shows me the trophy as if I haven't noticed it in his hands yet. I just want him, here with me, but for now, I watch him enjoying his victory. Today's celebrations begin with a champagne shower on the podium.

00:46

We entered the room laughing. Our eyes are still teary with emotion. The noise of all the celebrations still echoes in my head. Finally alone. I stop the moment I close the door, and look at him, who is in the middle of the room, hands on his head, still in disbelief. Our eyes connect, and we start laughing together. At this moment it seems that finally, the penny dropped for both of us. I never felt like this, it seems like this time was different, like he finally proved to himself that he made it.

He runs to me and hugs me tight. Even sticky with champagne, I can't imagine a better contact. We stayed there, stuck together, for minutes. I feel Lewis crying into my neck, he's not the type of guy to show his emotions, but in the face of it all, it's impossible not to get emotional. I hug him back even stronger, and the tears of joy come back to my eyes.

-You did it! I knew you'd make it. - I said.

Lewis then pulls away from our embrace, but he still has his arms around me, his teary eyes shining brighter than ever.

-We did it. -His euphoria is almost palpable. -You stayed, supported me all this time, and never let me stop. You understood all the moments when I couldn't be present. My God, I love you so much Angie, so fucking much.

I wipe the tears from his face with the palm of my hand.

-I love you. And it couldn’t be different. I've been here since the beginning, and I'll be here until the end, here by your side, no matter what. Seeing you achieve everything you ever wanted makes me beyond happy, Lewis.

-But I still don't have everything I want.

Confusion shows on my face. Lewis walks away from me, going to his suitcase, which is thrown in the corner of the room. He picks something up but I can't see what it is at first.

-I've been carrying this around with me for the last few weeks, waiting for the perfect moment, and I think this is it.

He sounds nervous and a little shy. My heart bumps when I realize that what he's carrying is a small Tiffany box.

-Lewis... -My voice comes out tearful. I can no longer contain the tears at this point. It can't be that. We never talked about it, even though he knows that this is one of my biggest dreams.

Lewis calmly walks towards me, I can barely stand still, my heartbeat must be over 150 bpm. I watch him getting on one knee and taking my left hand. I realize what’s happening, he's going to do it, he's really going to do it right now, covered in champagne and more euphoric than ever.

-I promised you that I would make you my wife years ago in a hotel room in Monza, remember? -I consent. In my mind, it's like a few days have passed since that moment. -I love you more than anything. I want to be able to give you the whole world and even then it still wouldn't be enough. I love you for who you are, for all your kindness and empathy, I love you for your perseverance and hope in everything and everyone, I even love you for your stubbornness because that's what moved me sometimes. Angie, I can't imagine myself without you by my side, I want to be able to spend the rest of my life with you, I want you to be the mother of my children, and I want to be able to take care of you until the end. -My sobs are already audible and I can see how hard he is trying not to cry. -You would make me the happiest man in the world by calling me your husband. Will you marry me?

I kneel in front of him, getting the same height as him, I look at the box that is now open and come face to face with an oval diamond ring, big and shiny enough to catch anyone's attention. Lewis looks at me expectantly. I put my hands on his face and kiss him as I've never done it before, Lewis's hand which isn't holding the box wraps around my waist.

-Yes! Of course. -my voice comes out tearful. -It's all I want.

Lewis pulls away from me, takes my hand again, and carefully places the ring on my ring finger. He takes my hand to his lips and places a kiss.

I feel like all my life and phases have brought me here, at this moment. I remember all the moments in our lives together and apart that made it clear to me that he is my soulmate, and there is nothing anyone can do when fate is sealed.

-I can't wait to spend the rest of my life by your side.

Final note

Thank you to those who read this far :). I'm happy with the story even though I wanted to add more details to it, but because it is a one-shot divided into two parts, I ended up incapable to give all the profundity I would like, so you might find it too rushed. But I'm still super happy with the result and I hope you enjoyed it too. I'm completely in love with these two so I might end up writing more about them soon. <3

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fluff #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula one #lh44 #smut fanfiction #au fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #mercedes amg f1 #Spotify

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death-himself · 4 months

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just finished episode 3 here are my thoughts

also i wrote this first part at the end of my review, but I'm gonna move it here to the top because it got a bit long and I feel like it's more important to state than my review

overall, i feel like the issues i have with the show are more of a me issue. i feel like I (and a lot of us book fans honestly) were hyping up the show to be one-to-one with the book when it's been said by rick and a lot of people working on the show that it was more of a new rendition rather than an exact book-to-screen adaptation

i know that when i watched the first two episodes with my friends, they didn't see any of those issues because they hadn't read the books at all, or at least not in a long time

one example, the issue everyone has with gabe's characterization is one my friend didn't pick up on, she recognized from the start that gabe was abusive and said something like "I'm scared what he'll do to sally if she doesn't get that car back to him"

those of us who live and breathe the books recognize that he's "not as abusive" or that it's a different kind of abuse in the books, so the characterization threw us all off in a way that it didn't for people who haven't read the books

so going forward, i'm probably going to keep that more in mind with the series and reviewing it. i think from a plot standpoint, it still manages to stay true to the book in the ways that really matter, and even emphasizes a lot of the key themes of the book more clearly, while still being extremely different, and I honestly think that's pretty cool

with that being said, bullet point review under the cut (reminder I wrote this before writing the above section and don't plan on changing it)

to begin with, I'm gonna be honest, I feel like they're changing a lot more than I would prefer with the plot. I'm still enjoying the series a bunch, but the differences are very striking to me

now going in chronological order with the episode, percy's reaction to the oracle was pretty funny

the whole thing of gabe being the one to tell him the prophecy looked stupid, but I feel like there was no way to translate it from the book without it looking stupid. i feel like when he's told the prophecy in the book, the creepy description is what makes it feel serious and the weight of the prophecy makes you forget how it's being told, and I don't really think that translates very well to film

also in the book the words are very clearly not words that gabe would say, but I feel like the way the lines were delivered in the episode was a bit off, like it just sounded like gabe with nothing creepy about it

percy choosing annabeth instead of annabeth pretty much forcing herself into the quest is an interesting choice that I'm not sure if I like or hate yet

it feels like they're turning percy and annabeth more into enemies-to-lovers than it actually is in the books

I love grover so fuckin much, grover's never been one of my favorite characters, but disney series-wise, he's definitely my favorite so far

i don't know why, but the little pool in the center of the poseidon cabin is my favorite thing ever, it just feels right

percy and luke's talk in his cabin is just <3

also the way luke went "it's a gift...from my dad" i just felt the WEIGHT of that, everything that it meant

also looking back on that, i love how both annabeth's hat and luke's shoes show the different ways they react to a gift from their parents. the hat is annabeth's prized possession that she doesn't want to give up, while the first time we see luke's shoes he gives them away and clearly doesn't appreciate them as a gift

i loved it since we saw it in the trailer, but thalia's tree is so fuckin cool, i love that it straight up just looks like a person standing guard

also the way they're pronouncing thalia's name is giving me life, my brother made fun of me for pronouncing it that way as a kid and i started calling her talia but to know 10 year old me was RIGHT, incredible

grover's little song had me dying, and percy using that song later at aunty em's was hilarious

ANNABETH IN THE GAS STATION, she was so adorable, that scene owns my heart now. her just grabbing every flavor of that candy was so damn precious

I'm sad we didn't get to see the bus blown up, they could've made it such a funny scene. have the trio run to the woods like "wow I'm glad we got out of there alive" then they look over at the bus and it just explodes. that could've been peak comedy there

the whole talk between alecto and Annabeth was interesting, it does make sense for them to have some sort of history considering what happened with thalia, so i think that's a good change, makes things more interesting

the way they got to aunty em's kind of annoyed me, i feel like they could have easily shown a passage of time and had them get there in the same way as the books. idk, i really liked how they ended up there in the books because they were just hungry kids that wanted burgers

also alecto being there felt a bit weird to me

when i heard they were taking a more sympathetic approach to medusa, i honestly got really nervous for how that would turn out, but i think they handled it as well as they could have. i feel like they said it in a way where the story could have gone either way; one way where medusa was poseidon's girlfriend, and another way where she was tricked and raped by him

she also goes on to both call him a monster and say that they loved each other, so again, i feel like it could still go either way with those lines, though it probably leans more towards the girlfriend perspective (even though I'm pretty sure that's the less myth-accurate perspective, but when has pjo been myth-accurate)

the way they killed medusa TERRIFIED ME, like annabeth my girl, you realize how badly that could have turned out right, having an invisible medusa

also how did that help percy in the slightest, he was still attacking something he couldn't look at so...how did that help

I'm hoping alecto being petrified isn't permanent, hades had better bring her back, i liked alecto. also isn't she important to some part of the plot in a later book? she's the only fury i remember the name of so she has to be important right?

their argument in the basement was an interesting change, i feel like to me it kind of just felt like conflict for conflict's sake. i don't think they felt super in-character in that section. their friendship dynamic feels a bit off through most of this episode honestly, but i think their dynamic's gonna be perfect going forward now that they've gotten past that conflict

percy saying the "i am impertinent" line perfectly. that whole exchange felt like it was ripped right out of the book, i loved that

i know everyone's been shitting on lin manuel miranda being in the show, but i still love the man, and that end scene was incredible

him in the elevator was so funny, and you just know he loved percy shipping medusa's head to olympus, he thought that shit was hilarious

#percy jackson #percy jackson spoilers #pjo #pjo spoilers #pjo disney+#pjo disney+ spoilers #percy jackson and the olympians #i have no idea what spoilers tag we're using someone help #really interested to see people's thoughts on medusa specifically #if i remember right rick accidentally wrote her using both conflicting stories at different parts of the series #like in tlt she was poseidon's lover while in another book she was said to have been born a gorgon

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jack-kellys · 1 year

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i said i’d post more notes so here are some MORE uk notes, organized enough for u to skip to whichever part u wanna read first. main hits in order are:

1. delanceys as a whole actually

2. jack and physicality (bodily and visually)

3. davey and leaders

4. ensemble notes at the end. here we go!

also all my other analyses so far r linked at the bottom <3 go look

~the delancey brothers!~

so help me i love these guys. i hate them so much and i rly don’t think they’ve been this evil before, like i think. they were more of a cartoonish school bully kind of threat.. but like. nah dude. these are strikebreakers. and they act like it.

they are both taller than essentially all of the newsies except davey. which idt has been true in the past but is significant based on the fact that jack kelly is usually cast always under 5’10 i THINK.. to show he’s still a kid. these delanceys just look bigger, and are older. they don’t interact as much with anyone wearing knickers instead of full-length pants. except.

when each newsie goes up to grab their papers, oscar does a different mean thing to LITERALLY EACH ONE OF THEM. he’ll drop them, or fake a kid out (his fake out w/ buttons has made me jump each time i’ve sat close enough in woodside LMAO he nearly hits him!!), or hold the papers away from them, or push them into their chest. or just give them a sneer. like he is just awful LMFAO

another thing is that they smile very easily when they are doing horrible things. it’s so fucking cool HAHAH but ok lemme go chronologically i’ll speak on dis later

when jack is writing up on the chalkboard, he’s not fighting some guy- it’s oscar, dude. jack and oscar literally go at it, and jack is so physical in this show so when he’s fighting his whole body is fighting. jack shoves oscar down onto the stairs, oscar gets up and tries to grab him but jack SHOVES HIS ENTIRE FOOT into oscar’s stomach and literally pushes him with everything he’s got and oscar tumbles into the stairs, knocking more wind out of him, and is coughing and shit all while “strike!” goes up on the board. god. it rly is the way jack has to put his whole body into making sure oscar can’t get up… it must be an even fight normally

when -5 newsies show up to the gate and they have the “ahh oscar we got bum information” it’s like… they don’t have to intimidate to intimidate. “my skull bustin’ arm” isn’t cartoonish, bro, it’s a fucking fact. and then oscar just laughs, and it’s not evil it’s like bc this is genuinely fun and amusing to him that they are going to kick some kid ass. man!

and then they do i mean i think it’s brass knuckles to the face that take crutchie out… they might kick him too. idr i’m watching all the kids run for their lives during the fight tbh.

MORE IMPORTANTLY, THEY SHOW UP WITH BATS. and it’s not like. a little stage combat bop to the face via a wrist motion— morris at least is swinging with two hands at these kids like he’s tryna hit a home run. it’s choreographed well obv, so he doesn’t even have to slow his swing it’s literally a straight up… if a kid got hit with that they’d be down for the rest of the strike. period bro. it’s kinda fuckin terrifying.

act 2 baby! pulitzer’s office. when pulitzer is extorting jack, when he says “oh, but it’s not right to condemn that little cr*ppled boy to conditions like those…” oscar. fucking. looks over to his brother. and smiles. no it was not a one night thing either. it is every. time. pulitzer mentions crutchie. and it’s chilling, it’s slow and knowing and BAD ASF !! then they haul jack off.

he’s taken upstage behind the scaffolding towers while pulitzer sings the rest of the reprise, but there’s enough light to see what’s going on between the three of them. and what’s going on is that jack is held to the wall while the delanceys take turns punching him. like. whole-shoulder-into-it hits. in the ribs so no one can visually see. oh. my. god. they wrench him downstage and toss him to the ground, jack actually falling and sliding (unlike….proshot where jerjor stumbles to the ground ig) onto his stomach during “we’ve been given discretion..” (discretion only, which is why they rough jacks up privately as he technically hasn’t given the brothers a reason to smack him around..) jack looks like he’s about to get up when my perhaps my favorite detail in the show happens. everyone listen closely:

oscar puts his foot down, on jack’s shoulder. his right shoulder. the shoulder of which fic writers and headcanoners for years have been including as some place where jack has chronic pain after an injury. and michael does a few shoulder moments through the show if you’re really looking (not as obv as jerjor but more natural maybe) and like. and oscar stands on it and pushes jacks back to the ground. holy FUCKING SHIT! ITS!!!! ITS THERE!!! our fucking!! the Thing!!!!! the fucking lore bro like does oscar know it’s sensitive for jack… duuuude. evil delanceys best delanceys

anyway they literally rock. pay attention to them onstage if u can! also the actors r quite funny together and they often do a bull-and-cape bows choreo thing w/ george running thru alex’s mimed cape <3

speaking of jack though, …jack!!

im not making this up jack does tilt davey’s chin up at some point i just don’t remember when… it has to be sometime on seize the day. it’s.. i don’t think i’m making this up.

he does make a point of tilting… might’ve been romeo’s chin up during the seize the day speech during “ain’t no crime to being poor,” and jack makes a movement for the kid to hold his head up. ugh. jack’s pride through this show is a wild wild journey because all it really is.. is within other people. god. god…

another big jack thing as i like to yell abt is his physicality.. when he’s impressed he’s soft and when he needs to get something out of someone or get them away from him he’s distinctly rougher. his physical action is also quite purposeful and feels less reactive than it does like… thought through. even when he’s tugging himself away from les even it’s like an “oh, get off of me already”. it’s a slow, sort of just sick-of-it motion, it’s a wind-up into pulling his arm away (oh this could. be because it’s his bad shoulder and oscar had dug his heel into it the night before. hold tf on WOAH WOAH!!!! rizz ghost-directed this production fr) before of course he realizes it’s les. like it’s very clear he’d be the type to hide an injury really well and then when he lets himself feel it he feels it.

continuing the end of the rally though oh my god. he basically stands upstage center as everyone passes him. everyone he’s ever known passes him and insults him and shoves him but what’s interesting is like. the money is still in his hand. and no one takes it. idk it’s just cool. but literally everyone has words to say to him (well, some spit at him), because honestly, jack said words to them.

significantly, and i can’t stress this enough, jack is an extremely good observer and because of this he does think before he speaks.. in a way. he bases it around a person for sure though, specifically: during the seize the day speech, he goes up to race (he makes his rounds through the whole stage during this part, getting to speak to every newsie on stage. it’s really.. ah, moving, tbh) when he says “they are slaving to support themselves, and their folks” BECAUSE he’d been seeing race and davey not get along (hello to my post about that) through most of the show.. because of davey’s privilege of having a home. inversely, during the rally ‘speech’ jack says “how long can you go without making money” to fucking tommy boy, WHO HAD BEEN A SCAB. tommy literally stands up from the ladder he’s sitting on too bc literally how dare jack… like that is SO. specific.

^but, it also shows that jack definitely knows the methodology of trying to win people over. he knows how to be persuasive, he just obviously isn’t at the rally bc he’d been even more persuasive during seize the day.

• caveat. race is literally so fun to watch during the rally. because he quite literally is only here for the cause because of jack, like if jack wasn’t leading it… idt he’d be in support of it. (especially based on his dislike of davey). he does this “oh my god” of disbelief when jack says to vote no, shaking his head and laughing a little. it’s just. horrified. and it’s gradual too, like he slowly realizes what is going on, that jack is selling out vs. being genuine. ugh. love this racetrack so much but anyway

davey’s shove to jack when he goes to get les is like so small and light in the way of like. not wanting to touch him. because WWH reprise had been filled to the brim of davey touching jack and now davey can barely even fathom it. god they are so going out. also i think it’s interesting that dave and les are the ones to take on and off jack’s newsie square mural, since they’re the only two who have been in the know of jack’s talent since towards the start of the show (meddas)… cool choice.

santa fe for this jack feels the least tangible, like it’s very much in his mind. from it being ingrained in the set, and certainly the moon expanding and practically consuming him from behind, it’s very… dreamlike and visual. when davey walks in on jack painting he’s like “ohhhh is that santa fe. lmao.” LIKE?? it’s very not real in this which is interesting. because jack is very very good at running in this. so it’s cool that this rly is the one time he can’t (when he wants to).

also it rly is the way that the mics caught the ripping noises when jack is taking off the portraits from his penthouse’s overhang… the slow one at the end of “ you stole for those boys, didn’t you?” whew. and he looks at it. and then hides it. god

also, and i’m realizing this hasn’t been canon before: jack is packing a bag to literally leave. he has the money, he kept the jacobs out of jail, he has to go. because his pride does reside in others, and when there seems to be no one left, he has to leave. of course he does. god…

davey time.

the holding of davey’s head is after world will know while the tables are being set up. finally nailed down when tf this happens lmao

“oh, wow… well. you’re really good.” davey covers up when he’s impressed in favor of a statement of fact. he doesn’t like giving away his position, even when it’s not about the strike (/this foreshadows his hesitancy in the next scene, and his statements of facts about how strikes work accidentally backfiring as a stalling tactic and turn into actual reasons to strike).

davey laughs when he’s nervous, which makes when he’s smiling and when he’s not.. quite stark. his resting face is a little inquisitive frown, like he’s always kind of listening. but yeah for his spotlight at the rally he literally is like “oh haha! um- umm, haha— NEWSIESOFNEWYORK. haha! ummm, we got kids from- from every neighborhood!!” i love him. just the concept of meaning what you say so much that it needs to come out of you no matter what form it takes. @we-are-inevitable and i have talked abt poet!davey before and yeah it was uk davey who it stemmed from for a reason.

the role call moment in seize the day is cringe but genuinely davey’s will never not make me laugh bc like HE THINKS it’s cringe too. but what he also does is not call himself david. he says davey. during a role call. names. and it’s davey. do y’all understand

i actually will probably never shut up about crutchie’s open arms to davey after the refuge and davey rly just falling into it my god.. it makes me so emotional. and they talk for so long…

• to this point, i think it’s rly interesting how leaders, specifically, gravitate towards davey. charlie is talking to the guy upon impact- after world will know the two of them are borderline speaking over jack.. the blocking has charlie turned inward towards davey while sitting on the table, which blocks jack off. race argues with davey partway thru the pre-seize the day scene enough so for jack to push race back. and spot LOVES davey. he’ll try to look toward jack and she will bring him right back down to her level and get him looking at her again and they RUN OFF WITHOUT HIM even though they’re all headed to the same place. like lmao. davey is built to lead and engage, there is just something within his nature that is desperate to come out that all the other leaders tease out in different ways. tbh katherine too. DEFINITELY katherine too, since they’re attached at the hip.

we end the davey section with a javid moment idr if i’ve mentioned or not: when jack sets the deal to buy back papers with pulitzer, the transition back to newsie square is davey running. running to jack, katherine a ways behind, and grabbing jack’s shoulders with his eyes widened. well? and jack kinda shrugs, he’s playing it cool before he just grins, and davey rattles jack’s arms before they like. their hug is so close and intimate and rough and davey shoves jack into him, it’s the kind of hug that rocks them side to side a bit. my god. it’s unbelievable. can’t believe they got away w that level of homo onstage <3

speaking of homos im gonna go thru some ensemble quick stuff

albert and crutchie are close friends in this which is so cool. albert is also like consistently the one to pick anyone up off the ground, be it crutchie or les or another kid. it’s just what he does and it helps to not single out crutchie as well. he’s just so helpful and unhinged. like what a weird fucking paring he’s so crazy LMAO

finch is the one who starts the boos during the rally, loud and abrasive and angry. he and race are standing at manhattan with… ooh. idk. it might be splasher but literally do not quote me. finch is just so abrasive through this whole show i fucking love him. loud weirdo

mike is the angriest newsie in town. he is always yelling before a dance break

every time jojo and jack interact it’s like he’s picking up his baby brother or he’s hugging him etc and it like literally makes me emotional lololol. wow

jack bromage was fully back as tommy boy for my show (he’d been out for a bit/doing partial things bc of an injury!!) and THANK GOD because he is. and i’ve been over this but he is literally so cool LMAO he is For The Cause.

buttons is literally so cool in this despite his name. he steals from a vendor before getting the other newsie he’s with to toss their fruit to a sitting-alone splasher, his bit with the delanceys gets him pissed, he’s just consistently ready to actually throw hands and appreciate him for it. kind of serves uhhh livesies tommy boy energy which is fantastic

henry just has a lot more lines in this which surprises me every time. either that or he talks a lot just when he’s onstage LMAO

specs kind of always either literally leads or encourages the movement when newsies are in the aisles/city alleyways, which makes sense— of course the lookout would know the city back and forth!! god! i love him. i do wish we had a black actor again but sam is very sweet <3

that’s all! i say, having done another multiple thousand-word analysis post. thanks for joining me once again gents.

my past analyses have been about:

the show at large +principal characters,

davey,

something to believe in’s new perspective,

other general notes/characterizations,

and racetrack!

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countlessrealities · 4 months

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IMPORTANT - BLOG UPDATES 2024 !

I should have made this post at the start of the year, but between the holidays first and working double shifts later (and now), I never got around to doing it till tonight.

I made sure to include everything in this post, so you guys won't have to jump around to check my pages, so please, make sure to read it.

RULES CHANGES

Interactions: Be interested in at least TWO of my muses, or at least be open to try and interact with a couple of the others, outside your chosen one. This way I'll be able to keep interacting with you, even if I were to lose inspiration for one of the characters you have chosen.

Matching effort: I've said this a few times, but this year I've started to apply this rule. I match the energy and the interest I receive. This goes for sending memes and asks (IC and OOC), offering ideas for plots, carrying on the scene in a thread, and so on. I will also try and reach out first more (even if it might take a while because I'm socially super awkward). However, if the effort remains completely one-sided for weeks, I'm here because I want to interact with people, but I'm tired of spending my time and energy on people who don't want to interact with me, even if they say they want to.

MUSES ROASTER CHANGES

Millie and Stan have been removed from my muse list.

Rick Prime has been added as a test muse.

Muses are now listed and grouped in primary, secondary, tertiary and test muses / request only.

Primary muses: Rick, Morty, Summer, Evil Morty, A-991 Rick.

Secondary muses: Evil Rick, S-314 Rick, Bill Cipher, Mabel, Adrien / Cat Noir.

Tertiary muses: Mercenary Rick, Blitzo, Poison Ivy.

Test muses / request only: Félix / Argos, Rick Prime, B-001 Rick (request only).

GENERAL POLICY CHANGES

I won't be answering drafts so strictly in chronological order as I've tried to do so far. I'll follow my inspiration more, which means that primary muses will get slightly faster replies compared to the others.

For my mental sanity, I'll space out the replies from people who tend to answer me quickly. It's nothing personal, I need to do it not to get overwhelmed.

On the other hand, I'll be more open to brief shenanigans, dash commentary and events-related threads.

Also, if we're mains, we can discuss having a "back and forth" thread (which means a thread with short replies that I'll reply to without queueing it every 3-4 days)

I'll be more selective with who I follow (back), and more liberal when it comes to softblocking people. However, if I softblock you, you can come and talk to me about it (as long as you're ready to be civil).

If you have read this post, please leave a like / comment !

#[ ooc :: mun scotty on comm ]#[ ooc :: blog updates ]

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thatgirl4815 · 2 years

Text

Micro Expressions

Nobody asked but allow me to provide a not-so-brief analysis of a set of GIFs that have simultaneously shredded my mind and pieced it together. Feat. Bible Wichapas Sumettikul.

**These GIFs do not all occur back-to-back in the scene, but they are in chronological order.**

It’s really no wonder Build said he was having trouble coming out of this torture scene, because Bible 100% sells it at every moment. For every one of Pete’s panicked, despaired looks, Vegas returns an equally unsettling one. Because Vegas is such a convincing manipulator, it’s hard to distinguish what could be real emotion on Vegas’s part and what is merely a show to unsettle Pete. But the devil really is in the details.

This first GIF^ stands out to me in contrast to Vegas’s expressions at the end of Ep10 with the jumper cables. In that scene, he never looks away from Pete’s face; he glares at him dead in the eye without so much as a blink. His expression with the cables is severe, resolved, and borderline undone.

Now to this. We see Vegas look in Pete’s eyes before his gaze travels down, as if sizing him up. There’s a degree of arrogance there, but I would argue there’s some recognition too. I don’t think Vegas’s mask is fully on in this moment. I wouldn’t say he’s baring his true self either, but the point is that he’s not specifically orienting his expression. He’s genuinely studying Pete out of what I think is his own curiosity, which makes it seem almost unintentional. Of course, it very well could be intentional, but there’s a shred of something here that is less brutal than any expression we’ve seen so far where Pete’s torture is concerned. Less brutal because Vegas isn’t smiling.

In all the surrounding shots, Vegas is distinctly smug. He knows he has Pete in a vulnerable position. But here, there’s no outright satisfaction--only a faint trace of that arrogance. He’s not smiling, but he’s not frowning either. He’s just observing.

To explain it further, this stands out to me precisely because of all the times Vegas intentionally sizes up Pete...you know, when he’s wearing a cunning smile while Pete screams in his face. Vegas’s response there is 100% part of the game. Most of Vegas’s expressions in the torture scenes are designed to manipulate Pete--in fact, most everything Vegas does is intentional. “Most” is the key word here, as there are a few rare shots where Vegas doesn’t appear to be playing an angle.

Ok ok. Here me out. In the last millisecond of this GIF, I see Vegas waver slightly. We see his gaze get more intense as he leans forward, but it lessens at the end. I wouldn’t call it sensitive--not even close--but I think it’s definitely less severe.

I mean, look at this:

(Sorry for the bad quality.) If you just look at his face and ignore all context, I think it would be difficult to guess that he’s currently instigating a physical and emotional torture fest. Perhaps I’m getting too in the weeds (it’s been known to happen), but I also see a little crease between his eyebrows. If I were to try to define what Vegas is thinking in this moment, I would say there’s some sort of recognition--he’s once again becoming cognizant of something. I’m not saying there are any grand revelations being made here, but I’d argue that we see him (briefly) look at Pete as more than just another victim. Again, not saying that he thinks of Pete as special in any way here, but there’s a little crack in his facade--a rare peak into the real Vegas’s expression.

3) *Including 2 GIFs here for a close-up and the moment Vegas lifts his head

This wins the award for the most erotic GIF(s) of the set. Not to sound like a broken record, but Vegas’s expression at the beginning reminds me of the last part of the 2) GIF. I’m 99% sure he’s looking at Pete’s lips (hello eroticism). I’m again going to argue that if this GIF was taken out of context, the torture aspect would not even cross my mind. It’s hard to tell because of the angle, but I think Vegas might even close his eyes for a moment.

Yes, all these details could be in support of Vegas’s facade. The proceeding kiss (or lick?) on Pete’s neck is undoubtedly designed to unsettle Pete as much as possible. But this GIF moment is not so straightforward, and that’s precisely why I think it could represent something more genuine. Vegas’s closeness is intended to make Pete uncomfortable, certainly, but Vegas doesn’t have to look down like this to get the message across. If anything, I’d like to critique Vegas--if he would’ve stared at Pete dead in the eye when they were this close (even closer than they were in the former GIF), then I’m sure Pete would’ve felt even more uneasy. Eye contact is already uncomfortable, but eye contact from a few centimeters away? Nearly unbearable. So why doesn’t he look at Pete here?

Vegas goes in the for kiss/lick next; it’s why we see him turn his head to the side. But what does he do before that? He pulls away.

Don’t mistake me. I’m not so deep in that I truly think he pulled back to stop himself from giving into Pete’s allure. We can safely assume that Vegas feels a physical attraction to Pete at this stage, but only slightly--probably nothing out of the ordinary. The main point I’m trying to make is that he does pull back, albeit briefly. What to make of that, I’m not entirely sure, but I’m inclined to believe it means something, at least.

I’m aware that many of the arguments I’m making about Vegas’s expressions are largely unsubstantiated. These are mere assumptions based on the little bits of his expression I’ve pieced together. I think next episode will see a mix of soft VegasPete (didn’t think I would ever say "soft” and “VegasPete” together in a sentence) and more erotic VegasPete. I can only imagine how much content there will be to unpack with those expressions...🤭

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spicyveggiesub · 9 months

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as it's been a good while since i've gone through the earlier stuff, so i'd like to both reread and catch up with that! there doesn't seem to be any like, good thorough place that compiles all the release dates for things? i know the fandom wiki has a page for main/school/event stories, but i know that there's things like unlock order and staggered releases for parts within a chapter, so i don't want to like, accidentally read ahead of where i'm supposed to be and get confused, you know? [2/2]

there's a spreadsheet that compiles the release order for events with the main story chapters as well (by LunaAmatista, you can see more of her spreadsheets here)

this doesn't account for the AA intermissions since those are like fake bond stories and this is event focused, so you should look at the wiki story page for that (or also there is a spreadsheet my friend made for arcana reading order it is in story order by default but if you want to read chronologically you can sort it by release date)

also just some general advice:

don't worry about the parts within a chapter or unlock order... even if it was released in parts any events in between don't really have an impact on the main story (for arcana, almost all the events happening at the time were revivals or collabs or specifically to get people to read the main story), and the unlock order for the school stories i guess helped to introduce the new schools to people but the order doesn't really matter since they take place before the main story and aren't very long

although they're influenced by when they were written for sure, most of the events don't take place in any sort of real timeframe, if you're set on rereading Everything then i'd say as long as you finish the stuff up until arcana before starting arcana the order doesn't really matter.

personally I would do: school story (minus junior high) > main story 1-11 > events up to end of 2020 > arcana > rest of events just bc it's simpler that way but it's up to you!!

you can watch/rewatch the stage plays whenever, but would probably benefit from reading stranded stage girls and AA act 3 first before delight. also AA references the movie a lot so there's that too

#asks #hope this helps i'm sorry that I can't give you a clear list of every story in release order lol #project for another day i suppose

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doctorofmagic · 1 year

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I know this wasn't the point of the Wanda post but I feel like this should be said: Introducing things from the movies into the comics is not always a bad thing like how Blade wasn't half vampire until after the film trilogy and everything that happened with comic 616 Nick Fury. But I could be wrong and those are actually terrible examples.

I agree with you! I don't think adaptations and new concepts are bad, but it really depends on every circumstance.

Cloud!Galactus will forever haunt the second FF movie. Let alone that *points at Victor von Doom as a whole*

On the other hand, some concepts are super welcome, like what they did with the Eternals, making most of their personalities waaaay more interesting (I suppose my only exception is Sersi. Comics!Sersi is/was so full of sass and I missed that. But Ikaris? Makkari? Druig? *chef's kiss*)

Nick Fury, imo, is a very unique concept because he only exists thanks to the Ultimates artist who used Samuel L. Jackson for his design. The actor saw that and wanted to be part of the MCU, which turned him into a very popular character, leading Ult!Fury to the 616, while 616!Fury is currently *whatever happened to him in Slott's FF run idrc* (correct me if I'm wrong on this, I read that info a long time ago)

Oh, and I can't say much about Blade because I'm just starting to read his chronology. But I think it's cool that he's a daywalker, as far as I know.

In short, it's okay if the movies introduce something cool to the character.

But back to Wanda... (and I know you didn't mention her, this is just me ranting, so please feel free to ignore that part, I'm just seizing this opportunity)

Nothing about her MCU characterization added good things to her comic book version. She was whitewashed, worked for Hydra, had a terrible storyline about grief and mental health (tipically stereotyped and twice as problematic since she's a woman) and finally had the "woman goes crazy with power" trope. She was never able to control her powers (as seen in Civil War) and let her emotions warp reality to fit her fantasies while being manipulated by both people and her own emotions (again, women are often called overly emotional, and I'm not excusing Bendis here because he did the same in comics). She became a villain during HoM and the times she was possessed by Chthon, but she was never meant to be *THAT* scary and evil. There's altruism in her essence (this is why the narrative of killing a teenager is just so off to me).

Wanda is a brown romani woman who was often persecuted due to her ethnicity, religion and skin color, as well as her mutant genes. And yes, the many reboots that tried to erase her identity. Even in modern day, she still has to deal with ill-intended writers who ignored the implications of her character as a hero of color and the double effort she has to perform in order to be accepted as an Avenger, (former) mutant and overall hero. Not only that, the fans have to BEG to artists to make sure she isn't whitewashed, while 0ls3n stans will mock and diminish those who ask for representation.

This is why it's so problematic for Wanda to be like that. Her entire characterization is made to please a toxic fanbase and use her as a symbol to promote their racism (as seen on my previous post).

In short, they don't like Wanda. They just idolize 0ls3n because she's white and plays a derranged woman filled with power. And that's kinda enough for them.

Don't get me wrong, I do love my fair share of female villains (I'm literally in 300 different fandoms). But Wanda was not meant to be that, especially knowing that there are so few female heroes of color on screen (it gets even worse when we only count phase 1, 2 and 3).

In any case, my point is, fans cannot accept the influence of MCU!Wanda to be translated to comics because it's erasure of her identity and plain racism. The new team is working very hard to portray a woman of color as she was supposed to be ever since her roma heritage was established in comics, and it's infuriating that people will turn a blind eye to all that.

Like, this kind of shit keeps happening over and over.

Even when Wanda is a brown woman like she's supposed to be, they still find a way to erase her through 0ls3n's whiteness. This is not different from those derranged people who pick white actors and photoshop them over Black Panther's characters (I've seen one just yesterday).

Sure many minorities were poorly portrayed back then, often depicting problematic characterizations, but here's an excellent case of how comic books allow room for growth (I was talking about HP and JK but it also fits this post)

Agatha was just the last bit of bad influence from that accursed TV show. She was deaged, which is absurdly ageist. There are so many few elderly and middle-aged women in the Marvel universe. There's less now because women can't be old (ask me about the anons that stated Charlize was too old to play Clea and watch me burn in rage).

Anyways, I wanted to make this about Wanda again because it's not just a case of bad adaptation. It's a political statement -- and a bad one. And I don't want ANY OF THAT in a media that is so political and means so much to minorities. I feel like it's important for us to talk about this ALWAYS. So yeah. I don't know how to end this post. Representation matters. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#how can the sorcerer supreme be of assistance?#ask #long post #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #tw: whitewashing #mcu #marvel comics

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douglysium · 25 days

Text

Episode 4 TMP Quick Thoughts

Housekeeping and Prologue

Hello, this is Douglysium and you might not know me as that guy who wrote over 100 pages of analysis on the Eye (which can be read on Tumblr here (https://douglysium.tumblr.com/post/735599414228484097/the-relationships-between-the-dread-powers-the) or Google Docs here (The Relationships Between the Dread Powers: The Eye- Knowledge is Fear and Ignorance is Bliss)) or as that guy who wrote an article on the Extinction (which can be read on Tumblr here(https://douglysium.tumblr.com/post/717929126195003392/what-would-avatars-of-the-extinction-be-like-a) and Google Docs here(What would Avatars of the Extinction be like?: A TMA Speculation)). Suffice to say I might be a bit of a TMA fan. Also, spoilers for TMP up until episode 2. You can read my ramblings on the last episode here (TMP Quick Thoughts 3).

However, Protocol offers a very unique opportunity and experience for me because I didn’t actually get into TMA until after it was over and I binged all of it. So this is my first time experiencing something even remotely similar to what the original TMA fans probably experienced when waiting for each episode week by week and slowly having to put everything together with the limited information they had. So I decided to throw my hat into the ring since this might be my only chance to do something similar. However, I’m working on some longer form TMA content so I can’t spend as much time on these articles giving a bunch of super detailed thoughts. I will try to keep these short and that inevitably might mean some could have questions about why I think or predict certain things and in those cases I would probably recommend you read at least some of the two articles I mentioned above to get a better idea of where I’m coming from. This also means I won’t be giving you a play-by-play of every single thing that happens in the episode so I encourage you to listen to or read them yourselves and feel free to comment if you feel something is important.

These reviews are probably going to end up focusing mostly on the Entities and their manifestations as they are what I have thought about the most and spent the most time interpreting and there’s been a lot of… interesting theories floating around about how the Entities are manifesting that I want to go over.

Finally, I’m just going to say it right now, spoiler warning for all of The Magnus Archives. I know that Jon and co said one could start with Protocol and be fine, and while that’s probably true, media like this tends to be made in conversation with or take into consideration what came before it in the irl chronology in order to connect them. While I’m sure you could skip The Magnus Archives, I don't really see the point of skipping over it when we are already getting characters from TMA showing up in TMP in Protocol. So to me it’s pretty clear that if we want to understand the full picture of TMP and all the things it is trying to say then we can’t just try to pretend TMA doesn’t exist or scrub it away. Just because you could understand what’s happening without the context in broad strokes doesn’t mean you're getting all the nuances.

These articles are meant to be quick and short so sorry if there’s typos and if I don’t address every possible question or possibility. I don’t want to repeat myself too much in this series outside of the prologue so be sure to skim some of my other articles.

Big Oopsie

In my last discussion around Episode 3 I realized I made some major mistakes with my interpretation of the statement. Luckily, it turns out most of the specific points about the Entities I mentioned still apply but it definitely pushes Webber’s statement towards having more themes revolving around The Corruption. On Reddit I posted notes in the replies of the post with the mistakes I made and how that changes my reading of the episode. I also have the corrections in italics on the google doc and Tumblr versions of that episode.

For the sake of convenience before I look at this episode here are the paragraphs and their corrections.

But then there’s that weird rash infection with all the roots. I mean yeah there’s a very real argument for The Corruption, both thematically and physically, but Leitner has mentioned that the Powers can manifest as anything that generates the fear they feed off of. Not only that, but there is a precedent for The Eye manifesting as a disease or infection. Albrecht von Closen had an encounter with The Eye after coming across a tomb and taking a bunch of old books with numerous statements (something Jonah later stole). In MAG 127 (Remains to be Seen) it’s clear Albrecht is being beset by a strange illness and he is becoming sickly and dying (he’s also spouting statements and staring at people). Albrecht later dies from unknown causes (the mysterious illness) and an autopsy reveals that his internal organs, bones, and inner skin had been covered with eyes… but there’s no eyes visible in this TMP episode. It might literally just be a disease caused by Webber not getting medical treatment or it could be The Eye trying to force Webber to choose between hiding and dying or risk going out and interacting with people. To risk being perceived.

Okay, here is where I make my first mistake. I say he doesn’t like how Jasmine talks to Gerard even though he is clearly talking about Maddie and in addition to that I misread and misheard Gerald as Gerard. So she was talking to someone completely unrelated to the Eye. Something that weakens my point for the Eye.

But maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. The Corruption is more likely a possibility here. Jane Prentiss mentions that she didn’t like The Eye and her worms reacted to it. She even described it as anathema. So maybe the fear of being perceived is similar to what Jane experienced. Additionally, the Corruption often ties into themes of toxic love. Specifically, forms of toxic love we might find disgusting or repulsive. The Corruption doesn’t just relate to physically disgusting things but also behaviors and mentalities we might find gross. Someone can be physically sick and have a “sick” behavior or be “sick” in the head. Here we see Maddie caring for Webber even as he rots away but she never seems to try to get him the help he probably needs from other people.

You could also argue that Webber seems unhealthily attached to Maddie and is using her to enable his self-destructive behavior. Not to mention The Corruption and disease with all the maggots going hand-in-hand all the time. Something I stupidly forgot in the original version of this was that in the very medical files NORRIS is spitting out, Maddie is “Maddie Webber, age 39 – Deceased— ” and in addition to that the part of the file before this says “journal of Dr. Samuel Webber, age 46. Issued by grief councillor Harriot Manning.” So if this is being documented by Webber as he is turning into a tree that would mean either 1. Maddie is already dead and this is all happening due to the doctor’s unhealthy emotional response and attachment or 2. The doctor possibly straight up killed Maddie. With this in mind that would mean that Webber’s panic attack is linked to the death of Maddie and the thing he is freaking out about is the possibility of people knowing he thinks Maddie is alive or that he might have killed her. The fact that he says “They don’t understand. I was so close to getting caught... but it’s done. All I need to do now is disappear.” points to the idea that he might have killed her.

This part of the statement “Thought I heard someone calling my name. No flashlight though, no movement, just the voice. Sounds like Maddie. My hands won't stop shaking” might have been The Corruption using the feelings of disgust and love Webber has towards himself and Maddie to call to him. So when Webber dies he rots away and can metaphorically join his also rotting life within the garden or dirt that everyone’s body will one day decompose into.

This wildly changes the reading to being way more Corruption coded. Someone who loved someone in such an incredibly unhealthy way he ended up killing the person he loved. There’s also an interesting metaphor here for the garden. Someone being killed and metaphorically or literally being used to allow a garden to grow as their body rots into something disgusting before being combined with feelings of shame, self loathing, and disgust. The Corruption and self loathing is something I haven’t really mentioned but there’s a precedent for it. As I’ve mentioned, corruption is the fear of disgusting things and that would often include the fear that you yourself might be disgusting physically or in terms of behavior. If you hate yourself you might say “I’m a piece of shit” and the idea of that is usually people find shit to be disgusting and repulsive.

There’s also an argument for The Flesh and body horror and in TMA sometimes The Flesh had a bit of garden theme, such as with Jared Hopworth’s domain.

In the original version I do mention The Spiral as a strong possibility but I also don’t give it a fear shake. I’m not going super in depth to it but Webber is clearly losing it and you could argue that maybe this Maddie person is connected to the Spiral and Webber acknowledges he is paranoid so he might be plenty afraid of going crazy. Mentions about how, for example, he is having trouble telling what time of day it is due to the unusual amounts of light could point to themes of The Spiral and being mistaken about something.

This statement is definitely more nebulous than the others so far but at the same time I don’t really see it being different than for example the vampire or that one time someone had to watch a video of a guy eating a computer. There are still statements from TMA that are just as nebulous and people are still debating to this very day what Entity these statements or beings might / should belong to.

Due to the additions I am more confident that this statement is probably connected towards The Corruption. Maybe like 85% sure this is The Corruption (If I had to assign an Entity and we assume they are still present) and the other possibilities being The Eye, Spiral, and Flesh respectively. With The Eye and Spiral being more likely than The Flesh.

Gwen enters the scene and offers Alice some sort of job “thing” on the 27th but refuses to elaborate on what it is. Which reminds me of the behavior Jonah had after taking over Elias and how he often held information from people like Jon for reasons that weren’t always clear. But eventually Alice gets Gwen to open up and she admits that it’s dinner with friends. Despite this it’s still kind of weird that Gwen thought to ask Alice of all people. They don’t exactly seem like friends so that’s strange. I can’t say if this means anything though.

Someone pointed out that Gwen is probably asking Alice to take her shift which makes a lot more sense then whatever the fuck I thought was happening. It’s still interesting that Gwen would ask for a favor though and then proceed to not elaborate which I still find really weird. Normally, if you ask for a favor you usually want to say why in order to get sympathy or understanding and trying to just get someone to do stuff for you for no reason tends to come off as shady. I still wonder if there’s a particular reason Gwen is so cagey. She asked what terrible event led Sam working for this organization in a past episode so I wonder if all the characters have some sort of trauma or encounter with the supernatural that is affecting them differently.

Episode 4 “Taking Notes”

Okay let’s get started with the episode. Once again we cut to hearing what’s happening in the show via the computers. I’ve already spoken about this 3 times at this point so blah blah blah something like The Web or Eye is watching through devices, maybe The Extinction if you want to go full on mad conspiracy theorist and I think Smirke’s 14 are still at play and if I’m wrong yolo but also maybe The Extinction emerged, who knows.

Alice immediately starts grilling Sam for trying to access restricted files after receiving a security notification from Sam’s activities. Sam was looking for terms relating to “Magnus” and “Protocol”.... roll credits.

But on a more serious note, this ties into a point I’ve been making again and again about Sam. He is extraordinarily curious and in this respect he is very similar to some other notably Eye aligned people like Jon. Additionally, the Eye just tends to attract people who are curious or want to know / witness something in various ways. Sam points out that there’s no reason Alice should be getting any computer security notifications and she says “I shouldn’t be, but you should be damn glad that this system doesn’t do anything like it should. If Colin caught wind of this he would have a meltdown! ” Which I think could also tie into The Eye since one of the things the Entity revolves around is the fear of being perceived and / or judged. So here we have Sam being caught doing something he clearly shouldn’t be doing and it’s being revealed to someone who shouldn’t have seen it. Alice, also belabors the point by saying Colin would be pissed if he found out what Sam tried to do.

I know that whether the computers are aligned with The Eye specifically might be debatable and if it turns out that these computers aren't Eye aligned this could debunk my point. There is definitely a precedent for it since the Tapes from TMA were actually aligned with The Web. However, I would argue that in the case of the Tapes, even though the artifacts themselves were aligned with The Web, taking statements and recording them is something The Eye still tended to do and The Web’s plan involved using the statements in order to metaphysically tie the Entities to them so they could be dragged to a new universe. What I’m saying is aspects of The Eye could still be at play.

Sam of course questions why files mentioning “The Protocol” would be restricted and Alice does what she usually does and basically tells him to stop asking questions. Which is fair in this case because the government probably doesn’t take snooping around secret files very lightly. This idea of the government catching you trying to take secrets and potentially doing something terrible if they catch you could also relate to The Eye. Alice says that whatever "The Protocol" happens to be it seems to be super high level lock and key stuff.

When asked how much trouble Sam could be in if caught we get this interaction.

ALICE

“All I know is it used to involve Starkwall.”

SAM

“Starkwall? As in “The San Pedro Square Massacre” Starkwall?”

ALICE

“The private military contractors yeah.”

I did an EXTREMELY light Google search and, at least on the surface, it doesn’t seem like this massacre is a direct reference to a real event. It’s also too early to make any hard guesses that aren’t just speculating but here are some of the first possibilities that come to my head.

Maybe, this massacre is connected to when the Entities first emerged and their first appearance caused some level of chaos due to a bunch of supernatural and weird stuff potentially happening. Maybe, it’s a lot more simple and it’s just a violent event tied to an Entity like The Slaughter. Sam seems to have a strong reaction to Starkwall implying that they are either famous or infamous to at least some people. Is this organization tied to an Entity like The Slaughter? It could also be that they specifically deal with fighting or dealing with the supernatural like how Section 31 of the police force in TMA was called upon to deal with supernatural things. Maybe Starkwall will even end having Hunters tied to The Hunt in the same way that Section 31 did? Of course, it’s way too early with way too little information to say with certainty.

I think it’s very interesting that, unlike TMA, none of the characters mention that they feel like they are constantly being watched no matter where they go in the O.I.A.R. facility in the same way Jon and co mentioned they felt like they were being watched in the Archives. It could just be that they haven’t mentioned it though since it’s not like that detail was dropped in episode 1 of TMA either.

When the statement this episode starts it is AUGUSTUS to which Alice responds “Hey! Augustus! Feels like I haven’t heard him in forever!” and we get this interaction.

SAM

So is this, like, a rare voice?

Gwen presses spacebar, irritated. The voice stops.

ALICE

Kinda. It’s usually just Chester or Norris. Augustus is a bit of a special occasion.

I once again have to wonder if there is some sort of logic or factor that determines when specific voices show up. I don’t know if Alice is aware of any possible triggers despite saying “Augustus is a bit of a special occasion” since she could simply be joking.

The statement itself is one of the easier ones to summarize I think. Basically, someone gets a violin of the “finest craftsmanship” from a strange gentleman by a fire and quickly realizes that using the violin allows him to play amazingly but comes at a cost of blood and pain. Either from themself or others. Eventually, the musician secretly gives his nephew the cursed instrument as part of an inheritance. I would say that this statement is probably detailing an encounter with The Slaughter. We have seen time and time again cases of The Slaughter causing violence via music, such as Grifters Bone.

As we are regaled with the story we learn that this musician had a tutor at some point by the name of Oliver Bardwell (ha bard… like musician) and we are told he “nursed a conviction that this honor was purely the fruit of his own skills as an instructor, rather than a product of my talent and endeavor. Bardwell, a singularly vexatious man, reveled in the task of reminding me that, though my father may hold station in the Lords, the regrettable position of my birth ensured I could not rely upon that fact to provide for my future.” So we quickly learn that Oliver is an asshole and in addition to that the statement giver even confesses “In these moments of Bardwell’s cruelty, I shall confess I indulged my imagination in contemplation of what morbid or grotesque fates might befall him on the journey, by happenstance or even by my own hand.”

I think this helps point to parallels with The Slaughter. The Slaughter is an Entity born from the fear of violence and here we have the implication that Oliver was a potentially violent and cruel man which in turn caused whoever is giving the statement to wish to enact violence or misfortune upon Oliver. It is unfortunately not completely unheard of in various time periods and places for figures of authority, such as parents, teachers, and mentors, to attempt to enact discipline via forms of violence, or they might use violent methods as a form of negative reinforcement. It would not surprise me if Oliver was using such a method to try to get the narrator to play better. We also know that this statement was probably not super recent because we get “I paid little heed to his prattle or ambitions, spending those weeks en route refining my finger patterns upon the timeworn bridge of my cherished Rogeri, at least as far as the unsteady coach would permit.” and “Alas, as the journey continued, Bardwell’s practiced manners and veneer of refinement gradually eroded, and as the summer's warmth yielded to autumn's chill, his demeanor truly soured, a change hastened by each rut and jolt of the aged carriage” which points to the idea that they were traveling via horse pulled carriage. We also later hear about a coachman, so I don’t think that this statement takes place in a time where cars and / or planes were common.

Going back to what I said earlier about Oliver and violence we get this “I have made mention of the grim fantasies that on occasion possessed my youthful mind, but you must believe me, nephew, when I say I had no part in his death. I do not know what at last caused the frenzied paroxysm which seized him that night. He had slept but little the week prior, and the strain upon his nerves was plain to see. It was as I missed the fingering of what should have been a simple exercise, a mistake I ascribe to the coach’s jostling, that he leapt to his feet. Words tumbled from his lips, devoid of coherence, a symphony of mania conducted by some unseen maestro of his own imagination.” It is rather notable that when Oliver begins to become violent and frenzied the narrator immediately believes the source of this violent attack to be them. For some extra context a paroxysm is defined as “a sudden attack or violent expression of a particular emotion or activity.” It can also refer to “a sudden recurrence or attack of a disease; a sudden worsening of symptoms” but given the context of the scene and the fear of the narrator I assume the first definition is more applicable. It could also be possible that this is a double meaning. If we suspect that Oliver was violent before then the second definition could apply in the sense of a sudden recurrence of violence that has suddenly worsened.

We also get “I watched with growing unease as shadows danced upon the walls of his thoughts, their forms and nature hidden to me, save for what I overheard him utter beneath his breath, barely perceptible to the ear. At moments, it seemed almost as if he were listening to some far away music, though my instrument lay quiet beside me.” which points to a possible connection between The Slaughter and some of the rhythm or music it often likes to manifest as. I also think it’s interesting that the narrator mentions “grim fantasies” but reassures his nephew he did not kill Oliver. It has already been explicitly mentioned that these grim fantasies involved violence but it appears that the narrator is afraid that someone may suspect that they are reason enough for him to kill Oliver. This points to a theme of the cycle of violence, where one person might become more violent because someone else enacted violence upon them, so on and so forth.

After fighting “as though some specter flitted just beyond his sight and grasped his hands, moving them with wild abandon as Mr. Bardwell sought salvation from whatever phantoms haunted his waking dreams.” Oliver proceeds to throw himself head first out the carriage door and kill himself via busting his skull open. It’s possible that this could be a form of violence relating to self harm (since self harm could be considered an act of violence towards oneself) or maybe for whatever reason Oliver perceived something else to be attacking him. The event also causes the coachman to suspect the narrator of killing Bardwell. We get another allusion to violent outbursts in the past when it is said “He had been witness to many heated exchanges between myself and Mr Bardwell, and as I approached, it became clear he perceived not a terrified and distraught youth, but a violent killer.” So at the very least the carriage driver believes there is some sort of precedent or motive for violence here. This also shows us that the narrator in all likelihood is not so young as to be defenseless or immediately assumed to be innocent.

The coach driver’s fear of violence seems to become so great that “A primal fear seized the man, and he acted rashly. I shall not speak of what followed, but suffice it to say that I ended up alone, wandering in the night.” It’s hard to say what happened but if I had to take a shot in the dark, and consider the fact that the narrator doesn’t want to even speak about it, I have to assume that the coachman attacked them and they fought back in self-defense before being forced to kill the man. It’s possible that the carriage driver just ran away but we also have to remember that Oliver seemed like he heard “some far away music, though my instrument lay quiet beside me.” Is it possible that the coachman was also a victim of this unheard song? It would make some amount of sense considering that we soon meet a man who gives the narrator a strange violin that craves blood and can cause violence. Maybe the violin is what they heard but I am unsure and I don’t know why the narrator themselves wouldn’t have it heard. It could just be coincidence or some other factor like The Slaughter preying off the coachman’s fear.

Speaking of, the narrator meets a strange gentleman sitting by the fire and the man probes the narrator for his story while offering food. After hearing the tale he sighs and says “"Fortune does seem to have forsaken you," he mused, his expression unreadable and his tone strangely conspiratorial. "Indeed, I would suggest a stroke of luck is much in order."” before giving the narrator a strange violin. As he does, we hear about some of the other trinkets “Within it I could spy an assortment of trinkets, ranging from battered knives and chipped porcelain to fine jewelry, small ivory figures and even a set of gambler’s dice. "Luck assumes a myriad of forms, " he proclaimed, his practiced manner warm and inviting, “and today it takes the form of a simple traveler offering you his wares. You mentioned playing the violin, I believe?””

I wonder if this man is similar to Mikaele Salesa and considering that we will soon get an episode about a strange pair of dice I wonder if the set of gambler’s dice is the same set. If it is that would point to the idea that the man is not only collecting Slaughter artifacts in the same way Mikaele wasn’t aligned to any particular Entity and collected a variety of their artifacts before giving them away.

We get a bit of detail about the violin “Placing a bow upon the string, and in a single

fluid motion, he executed an echoing double stop that resonated with a satisfying thrum. He said nothing as I examined it, ascribing it no history, no famous maker or master luthier. The neck, a paragon of symmetry, led the eye from the deep crimson hue of the upper bout gradually surrendering to a subdued natural mahogany as it descended.” but as the musician continued to trace their fingers along the string “At that moment a cry of pain erupted from my throat, a cry that shocked even myself, as I realised I had cut my fingertip upon the strings. The merchant only smirked, looking at me as one might a boy who'd touched a cooking pot.” This is the first hint we get at the violin’s darker nature. The noted “deep crimson hue” the violin has might symbolize deep red blood. It could even be the vestiges of someone else who played the violin and had to give a blood offering.

After the violin player makes his way to Manheim and eventually plays the violin, we get an interesting note. “A tremor of apprehension coursed through me as I faced the silent assembly, and it was with an unfamiliar feeling of uncertainty that I gripped my new instrument. Its neck, more slender than its predecessor, sat awkwardly in my hand, and as I began my fingers fumbled in their search for purchase upon the strings. I attempted the first of my well-practiced recitations, but my playing was inelegant and rough, eliciting only dismissive whispers, and derisive muttering from my audience. A surge of indignation and fear welled within me, urged on by the knowledge that I, my father's sin, who had done terrible things to reach that hall, could never return home in disgrace. I executed a 'jete', a jarring musical demand for their attention, a declaration that I must be seen, and heard. A rapid and perfect volley of eleven notes, past which no murmur, no whisper lingered. I had their complete attention.” I’ve been pretty adamant that the Entities are still feeding off fear in TMP and to this end I would point to the fact that the violin seems to take full effect when a “surge of indignation and fear” wells within the musician and we later hear “I could see in the faces of my audience an astonishment, and something not

entirely unlike terror…”.

The violin player also makes note of “the knowledge that I, my father's sin, who had done terrible things to reach that hall” which to me increases the likelihood that they ended up having to fight and kill their coach driver since I don’t know what else they could be referring to outside of rampant misplaced guilt.

The violin reveals its true nature when “As my eyes opened, I saw of blood pooling on the neck from where my skin should be, as the uppermost layer of the fingertip dangled, torn and hanging like discarded parchment. Pain and panic blossomed, but no option remained other than to play, and to play the most daunting melodies my mind could conjure. Sluggish at first, as I felt the strings run their length against my bloody flesh, then rapidly accelerating, crescendos intertwining diminuendos, a dance of command and submission enacted upon the strings.” and we hear “I was, of course, accepted, hailed as a singular talent. Yet a suspicion took root in me. A realisation that the positions of “player” and “instrument” were not so firmly set with this hungering violin. It was a creature with needs and purpose of its own. The needs were simple enough. Blood. Flesh. Little enough at first. Skin shaved and cut and singing in pain. And the rewards were great, as with each performance, agony intermingled with melody, and my bleeding fingers lubricated those resonating strings. ”

So in order to play the instrument the narrator must give an offering of blood, or what might be more broadly an offering of some sort of pain. The musician soon comes to the grim realization that “The blood for its strings need not be your own.” “Only once did I play it without paying its price: wrapping my fingers in thick bandages so as to prevent its razored strings from cutting me. I had believed my playing would be lackluster, my performance uninspired. Yet the music that came from my instrument that day was somehow more beautiful than it had ever been before.” but then “They fell upon each other then, a dance of teeth and nails, of tearing and gouging. I watched as a gout-ridden man in emerald silk sucked the eyes from his son’s skull and crushed them in his jaws like ripe cherries. A demure young woman bedecked in gold peeled the cheeks from her betrothed as she sang to the music that I could not stop playing. It was only when a candelabra was upended and the room engulfed in flame that I was at last able to cease my recitation and make my escape. ”

So the violin seems to have abilities quite similar to that of Grifters Bone, who we know is aligned with The Slaughter and they can play a song that causes extreme violence. The narrator describes the violin as being a creature so it’s possible that when it’s hurting him he perceives it as an act of violence or maybe the act is a sort of metaphor for self harm or aiming your violence at yourself. The violin apparently sounds more beautiful than ever when it is drawing from the blood and violence of other people so it could be that the more pain and blood offered to the violin the more beautiful it sounds. This violin also might be a metaphor for the “tortured” artist trope. The idea that you must endure great pain or suffering to be a great artist.

A lot of people wonder about the relationship between Slaughter and music and while violence itself isn’t tied to rhythm or music certain institutions that enact violence are, most notably the military and various armies throught history. Whether it be their rhythmic marching or a drummer beating their instrument in order to keep the army moving in proper rhythm or even acting as a way to raise their morale to get them to continue fighting. Roles such as these have actually been around for quite a long time which could explain some of The Slaughter’s manifestations. At a certain point it would be unsurprising if the sound of a kind of drumming might make you assume an army is on its way.

“The Spirit of '76” by Archibald Willard

Phrases like “beat the drums of war" can refer to preparing for or inciting a war and Merrian-Webster defines a war drum as “a drum beaten as a summons to war or as an accompaniment to marching or fighting.”

In addition, some genres of music, such as metal or rock, are thought by some to be violent. There are stories of people making deals with the devil himself to get some sort of skill with an instrument. There are also rumors of genres such as metal being used to recruit the malleable youth to join the devil or commit acts of violence and / or murder (especially during the satanic panic in the U.S.).

As always, there are going to be other Entities that overlap with some of the fears. The Desolation overlaps a bit here, and the Entity can be so similar to The Slaughter that some people ask what the difference between the two actually is. The Desolation seems to be the fear of loss, usually but not always via destruction or damage, and The Slaughter is the fear of violence. Like all Entities they do overlap a bit and can have similar manifestations but to give a general idea- if you are afraid of your house burning down that’s usually more The Desolation and if you are afraid of being stabbed by someone that’s usually more The Slaughter. Of course, exceptions always occur and these things can be very muddled. For example, you might lose someone you care about to violence and violence often goes hand-in-hand with threats of destruction. You could also argue that the violin could be threatening to take your fingers in a sense and the musician does mention the fear of being sent back and basically losing what they have worked for.

The fact that the narrator seemingly cannot stop playing the violin could relate to The Web via being controlled by something and the fear of being in front of a watching audience that is judging you could relate to The Eye, but I still think that The Slaughter has the strongest precedent here.

We get confirmation from Sam that this statement is rather old when he says “Why on earth would something from the 18th century show up on Freddy?” I’ve mentioned earlier that we don’t actually know exactly when the Entities would have appeared in this universe (if these are the same set of Entities from TMA anyway). Time seems like it gets kind of weird with both The Change and multiversal travel but I wonder if some of these statements are being carried over from the previous universe via something like The Eye, statements, or accounts stored in / on things tied to The Entities? Could a statement like this simply be from the TMA universe or maybe the Entities just appeared earlier than we thought? Heck, I still can’t discount that this could be a different set of Entities even if I personally lean towards these at least paralleling or mirroring the Entities as we see them in TMA and their categories (and I would go as far as to posit that they are probably the same Entities from TMA).

The transcript says “SAM and ALICE have been listening despite themselves. GWEN is still working.” which I think ties into what I have mentioned previously about statements. They connect to something a lot of people don’t want to hear and they are shown wearing on the psyche of people like Martin when they listen to them. The Archivist is also described as having the job of being a “living archive of fear” and witnessing the terror and fear of others so I wonder if the people working at the O.I.A.R. have some comparable role.

Gwen then gets an email notification on her pc and we get

GWEN

Hmmmm?

She opens the attachment a recording plays. The audio quality is very

poor.

KLAUS

(video, begging) Please. Please, you don’t have to do this!

YOUNGER LENA

(video) We both know I do.

KLAUS

(video) /I I-could disappear again! They would never know!

GWEN

(Gasp) /Lena? What the hell?

Computer turns off.

This once again points to a theme The Eye has of randomly leaking information but it could also be The Eye or even Lena trying to stoke Gwen’s curiosity. Encouraging curiosity is something that The Eye and Jonah seem to like to do with curious people such as Jon, Tim, Melanie, and even Rosie. This also potentially parallels Jonah killing Jurgen Leitner after the man comes out of hiding. Something that might be more likely than we give credit for if we consider that the first statement of TMP seems to parallel the first statement of TMA with a story that sounds like an encounter with the Anglerfish.

Conclusion

I don’t really have much to say here but feel free to leave your corrections or thoughts and I may give my 2 cents or say if I agree or disagree with them.

#tmp #tma #the magnus archives #the magnus protocol #discussion

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