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pheonixgrave · 8 months

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Safety

I saw a post the other day about Astarion watching Tav get railed by Halsin and this is what happened, I am so sorry :D

Warnings: Blood drinking, big Halsin, threesome, virgin tav is really into pain, service dom Halsin, sub Astarion, sub Tav, Astarion's poor relationship with sex, aftercare, oral, very large Halsin, set near end of act III

“Are you sure about this?” Tav sat on the edge of a private bed in Sharess’ Caress with Astarion sitting in a rather comfortable looking armchair facing her. He was lounging with a glass of wine in his hand. Just as she was clad only in a periwinkle satin robe that clung to her body.

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t, darling. Are you sure about this?” He could tell she was nervous. They had rented this room for one reason only. Privacy. While they had the rooms at the Elfsong, Astarion didn’t want the rest of their party listening in.

“I want to, I’m just nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before.” She chuckled, he knew. Of course he knew, why did she have to say it? Her nerves were starting to get the better of her. She tried breathing through it but her heart would not stop racing.

He smiled at her before rising to his feet. He walked over to her and cupped her face in his hands, “Nothing is going to happen if you don’t want it to. And you do have me here, I won’t let anything go further than what you want.”

“I trust you,” she placed a soft kiss against his lips before smiling. “But I can’t promise this will go smoothly.”

“My love, nothing goes smoothly when you’re involved.” He kissed her again, “maybe I could help you relax just a little before he gets here.”

“What do you mean?” His hands started to wander down her arms, slowly reaching the tie that kept her robe together.

Normally, someone of her station would have something longer, a little more regal. But this was not a regal situation. “Perhaps I can make you just a tad more comfortable.” With deft hands, he untied her robe. Gods, her freckled skin always made him catch his breath. But backlit by the sun setting outside, she looked like a goddess reborn. A perfect halo around her newly scarred body.

She only nodded, still embarrassed by the intimacy of it all. Her words may have been caught in her throat but her body obeyed. She spread her legs for him to fit between them. She leaned back on her elbows as he ever so gently pushed her back. “Astarion?”

“Shh, darling, let me.” He dropped to his knees. Holding her thighs open, he licked a long stripe against her cunt. She gasped but tangled her fingers in his hair. He only wanted to bring her to that edge and maybe prep her just a little. He made lazy circles around her clit while she writhed on the bed. It was his favorite dance with her.

But before he would get too wrapped up in the taste of her, the doors swung open. To say Halsin was a presence was an understatement. And as soon as Astarion went to pull away to make room, the druid held him there. “Do not stop on my account.”

Tav immediately went to cover herself and they let her, but Astarion’s tongue continued. This time encouraged by an audience, he buried his face in her cunt. Leaving no inch undiscovered, he couldn’t help but fuck her with his tongue. Tav tried to stay quiet, tried to keep her moans to herself. What she did with Astarion was filthy enough and adding the archdruid seemed so strange to her. She turned her face towards him and watched him slowly start to undress. He was so…large. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about being held by him. It was almost enough to distract her from the Rogue between her legs. Almost.

She felt her orgasm wash over her as he gave her clit a slight nip. "Astarion!" She cried, giving his hair a harsh tug.

He let her ride out her high for a moment before standing before her, her legs still spread and her chest heaving. The golden rays of the sun surrounded her now. Her golden hair fanned out behind her and the flush of her skin was all Astarion wanted to look at. Dazed by her taste and how angelic Tav looked at that moment, he didn't notice Halsin turning him around to face him.

Halsin wasn't one to waste time, not when it came to this. He held Astarion's face and smashed his lips against the smaller elf's. Tav could do nothing but watch the druid ravage him. It took her breath away to watch him pick Astarion up and drop him in the chair yet again. The two made eye contact for a moment. He looked positively wrecked. His face was far more flushed than usual and she could see how hard he was through his trousers. It made her cunt clench.

Then he turned to her. "Astarion was right. You taste as sweet as any wine." If it had been possible, the bard would have even blushed even more. Halsin towered over her. She watched as he slowly unbuckled his breeches, her breath catching in her throat. The initial trepidation had been washed away with Astarion. Or so she had thought.

Halsin was big. Astarion was nothing to scoff at but Halsin was another creature entirely. She swallowed hard, "Is that even going to fit?"

He slowly started stroking himself, "It has before in much smaller."

"Gods," she practically whimpered, tossing her head against the pillows.

"Did you prep her?" His voice was so low and hungry.

"I didn't have enough time, you barged in before I could really commit." Astarion sounded like a different person. He was far more whiny than before. He was feeling just as needy as she was.

"Sit behind her." Astarion moved before she realized it, sitting against the pillows and resting her head resting on his chest. It dawned on her that he liked following his commands. She could feel how hard he was pressed against her back. "Good boy."

A shiver ran down the rogue's back as a light whimper escaped him.

"Now hold her just like that," he stood between her legs with Astarion propping her up. It took her by surprise when Halsin's thick fingers spread her cunt open. "Such a pretty girl," he murmured to himself before slowly slipping just one finger inside her. Tav writhed against the vampire spawn, silently begging for more. She tried to gain a little friction by grinding her hips against his hand. "Hold her, Astarion."

It was a quick command but one he followed without thinking. He wrapped his arms around her middle. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, "Are you alright, love?"

She whimpered but nodded. She simply needed more. "Touch her."

His hands were quick to find her breasts. She arched her back into his touch as Halsin added a second finger and started practically pistoning his fingers in and out of her. "Gods!"

"Good, just let go for me. You will have to cum around my fingers before I give either of you anything else." Halsin watched the two in front of him. Astarion might have needed this more than he had thought. And so did Tav. It was impossible not to find either of them attractive. It had been even more impossible to ignore that attraction. And now that she was laid bare in front of him with him behind her, it was almost too much. He silently prayed to the Oak Father for control.

Tav's moans got louder. Her hands gripped Astarion's shirt as he played with her breasts. She thought the attention Astarion gave her was overwhelming but it was nothing compared to the attention of the two elfs. “Shit,” she gasped as her cunt clenched around Halsin’s fingers.

He removed his fingers from her, not hesitating to suck them clean. “If I did not want to take you now, I would spend hours just tasting you.”

She only whined in response, still coming down from another high. She never imagined herself as a plaything before. But she could scarcely think of little else than the two men using her body. The thought alone was nearly enough to push her over the edge again. She didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought. Halsin used his other hand to direct her face towards him. “Is this what you want?”

She nodded.

“I need more than that.”

“Yes! Just-”she whined, “please!”

Halsin smiled to himself. They had jumped into this with little preparation or conversation and a part of him was worried it might be too much. He was already worried that giving Astarion commands would be too much yet he followed them so sweetly. The two of them were so eager to obey him. He held her thighs apart, taking a moment to watch her cunt twitch in anticipation before dragging himself through her folds. He groaned as he slowly pushed his way inside her.

She cried out at the stretch. Gods, it hurt. Her face twisted from pleasure to pain. Astartion hushed her, gently stroking her cheek. “I know, darling, you have to relax.” She nodded, focusing on her breathing.

Halsin stopped, gently stroking her thighs. “Are you alright?”

“Gods, don’t you dare stop now,” she nearly cried. Between a shady priest and Astarion, she had learned that pain was merely a motivator.

It took patience and care, but eventually he found himself completely buried inside of her. She looked so small like this but so tight and hot. He leaned down to press a kiss against her lips. A kiss she eagerly returned, a hand threading itself through his hair. He broke away panting, leaning towards Astarion next. He could feel his fangs nip at his lips. Not intentionally, just silently begging for more. He braced himself standing at the edge of the bed, holding her thighs apart. “Are you ready?”

Another nod. This time, he didn’t make her talk, just gave a couple shallow thrusts. Those shallow thrusts slowly turned harder and harder until he was practically punching the air from her lungs. Without thinking, he grabbed Astarion’s hand and pulled it towards her clit. Normally, he was slow and teasing with his ministrations. But something about watching someone else fuck her into her own oblivion made him wild. Quick and purposeful circles around her clit combined with Halsin’s rough treatment had her back arching in almost no time at all.

In a daze, Tav grabbed the back of Astarion’s head and brought him down towards her. She wanted to kiss him, to feel him too. Most of all? She wanted him to bite her. Once she broke the kiss, she bared her neck to him in a silent plea. Astarion looked at Halsin through his eyelashes. She wasn’t the only one who looked absolutely wrecked.

The druid’s eyes were transfixed on her cunt swallowing him whole. His chest was heaving as he held her trembling thighs open. “Hells,” he whispered underneath his breath. He glanced up at the rogue, who was equally transfixed on his cock bullying her. “Say what you need, Astarion.” He growled, closer to his own end than he would like.

Astarion stroked her neck with the hand that wasn’t still circling her clit. "She's asking for a bite," he all but whined and pouted.

"By all means," he had never seen something like that. He couldn't pretend that he wasn't curious and if she was asking in the throes of another orgasm? Who was he to deny her?

Astarion adjusted so he could be closer to her neck, she didn't seem to notice. She could only moan and cry out nonsense. And then he bit her neck, right where her scars were forming at the juncture of her neck.

Halsin watched her eyes roll back in her head as she scratched at the vampire’s thighs and created a vice grip on his cock. It was too much even for him, he tried to hold back, to let her ride out this high one more time. But he couldn’t. He pulled out right before he finished, coating her body in his seed as Astarion drank from her. He stood there for a moment, trying to collect his own thoughts. Astarion was running his hands up and down her body, making a mess on her stomach, her neck seemingly forgotten.

He dragged his fingers through Halsin’s seed, using the other hand to pry her mouth open. She sucked in his fingers without question. It was salty and earthy, she gagged at first but tried to lick Astarion’s fingers clean. And she swallowed every drop on his hands. If he wasn’t careful, Halsin would need another chance to bury himself inside her. Now that he’s had her, could he ever truly think of anything else?

Without warning, Astarion left her side, positioning himself at the edge of the bed once more. Only a fool would be able to miss the tent in his trousers. Halsin watched him lick every drop of his seed off her stomach while his hand found her clit once more while Tav looked at Halsin with pleading eyes.

“Good boy,” Halsin’s hands wrapped around his own cock, watching the vampire clean the bard with his tongue. “Do you wish to fuck her too? I would hate for you to be left wanting.”

For once, Astarion had nothing to say. With clumsy hands, he stripped out of his clothes. Tav was far too gone to notice him shaking. But Halsin watched him bury his cock in her cunt and watched her nearly scream. He watched him fuck her with reckless abandon. It didn’t feel like the Astarion he knew. He walked behind him, running his hands down his arms. “She is not going anywhere, sweetling. You are safe,” he whispered into the vampire’s ears.

His grip on Tav tightened while Halsin kissed his neck and rubbed gentle circles on his thighs as she reached He let him work out whatever he was feeling on her already abused cunt. Astarion came with a strangled cry. He collapsed on Tav, tangling his limbs with hers. The two laid there, completely spent and out of breath with tears pricking his eyes. Halsin felt his heart swell looking at the two. He smiled to himself before walking towards the washroom. Casting a spell to warm the water already sitting in the room’s tub.

First, he scooped up Tav in his arms. She nuzzled against his chest and welcomed the warmth of the water. Next he swept Astarion in his arms and sat him next to the bard. It was a quick thing getting the two of them scrubbed down. Eventually, Astarion came back into his right mind and started scrubbing Tav’s hair. Tav, who was still in a dazed state, simply leaned against the much larger elf as the vampire helped scrub her body. For a while after, Halsin simply held the two smaller elfs as they curled against him and simply slept. He hadn’t expected to stay but he was more than happy to.

#astarion #baulders gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion smut #fem!tav #astarion x tav #halsin x tav #astarion x tav x halsin #here we go again #i apologize in advance #not my gif

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ma1dita · 1 month

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🐥 okay but how about a lil something based off of lyrics from 18 by Anarbor

So if you wanna piss off your parents, date me to scare them

Show them you're all grown up

If long hair and tattoos are what attract you

Baby then you're in luck

And I know it's just a phase

You're not in love with me

You wanna piss off your parents, baby

Piss off your parents

That's alright with me

dionysus!reader just turned 18 and is proving to her dad that she's all grown up but D won't listen cuz she's the only girl child he has so she dates the golden boy of camp, Luke Castellan to piss off her dad which he doesn't approve bcs well, he's his father's son

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x dionysus!reader

a/n: yall know i love a dionysus!reader. in a world where rick didn't write children's books, luke castellan would've had tattoos and definitely fucked. anyways suggestive content ahead!!

wc: 692

You were only going to date Luke Castellan to prove a point.

You’re 18 now, and it’s about time that daddy dearest takes you seriously. Being Dionysus’ only daughter meant that you were essentially kept under lock and key, and it was so unfair in the grand scheme of things—there’s inhibitions inside you that beg to be set free… It’s not your fault. Might as well hit him where it hurts—so you went for the bane of Mr. D’s godly existence, also known as Luke Castellan.

It’s not your fault that your dad’s temper drove you to the doorstep of Cabin 11, twirling your hair between your fingers as you waited to see their cabin counselor. He sauntered over to the door with a half-grin on his face, slinging his arm to lean against the doorframe as he hovers over you. It’s not often that Camp Half-Blood’s princess comes asking for a favor. You always get what you want, even without asking, so it was a surprise to hear you give him the proposition of being in a fake relationship.

Truthfully, there was nothing in it for him. He’s a nice guy, and Luke just loves to piss your dad off. To outsiders, there was nothing that made more sense than Mr. D’s little girl dating the camp hero–Luke’s hand gripping your waist like it’s a vice and you pressing kisses onto his jaw and neck unlike the innocent girl everyone thought you were. Holding hands in public, sucking face at the bonfire, playing house with the campers—it was all part of a show that everyone adored, all except for Mr. D.

Your dad saw straight through it—hating that you had to pick a son of Hermes, hating the reality of his daughter entangling herself with the older boy who’s innate nature is to trick and deceive and penetrate through the many defenses your father set to protect you. It’s his fault for raising you to make everyone eat out of the palm of your hand. You always get what you want, and even daddy’s little princess isn’t safe from the wiles of that scar-faced sucker. It was a losing battle, even for the god of insanity—poor guy pulling at his graying hair at the conduct report Chiron put on his desk a few weeks later.

Getting caught in the stables with Luke’s hand up your skirt and your soft hands grazing the tattoos along his torso wasn’t necessarily part of the plan. The two of you were moving hay bales for the pegasi and it was hard work (that you made Luke do as you sat pretty on an overturned bucket). He was glistening with sweat, lifting his shirt to wipe his mouth—revealing the cascading tattoos along his ribcage and infiltrating your mind with other things he could put his mouth to if he wanted.

Who are we kidding—you want Luke Castellan, and you’ll be damned if you don’t have him right now.

All it took was scrunching up the hem of your denim skirt over your crossed legs and smiling at him in the sunlight and he was on you—twisting and writhing in hay as you kissed like your lives depended on it, even without an audience. The grins on both your faces signaled that neither of you cared, him grabbing the plush of your ass and you raking your nails up the back of his neck. Luke presses kisses into your collarbone, whispering things your dad would smite him for, but to you, it was like he was putting in the password to your untapped thirst. Ecstasy was about to unfurl with how his fingers played with the band of your underwear, tiny noises and nods letting him know he was doing everything right. It’s not your fault, really—you just want to prove a point!

But then the both of you were caught red-handed by a satyr, lips kiss-swollen and giggling at how he unraveled you so quickly. A conduct report was filed, but it didn’t stop Luke from finding new ways to unlock your deepest desires.

Besides, picking at locks is part of Luke’s expertise, among other things.

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩#luke castellan x reader #made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan x dionysus!reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader

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the-travelling-witch · 6 days

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𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary: the human custom of sharing clothes had been an unfamiliar one for jade, but he has always been a quick study

pairing: jade leech x gn! reader (both have graduated nrc, but a lot of this is reliving school memories)

warnings: fluff, implied smaller reader; i think it made more sense in my head but have it anyway bc i never wanna shut up about him, please applaud my restraint to not name this ‘boyfriend material’

twisted wonderland masterlist

It was true that wearing clothes was a foreign feeling when Jade first came to the shore all those years ago. But he had come to like the human custom, no matter how tedious it might seem at times. Not only did he realise the way one dressed held a lot of power in the way one was perceived by others, it had also served him in making some fond memories.

The ones he remembered most vividly, however, were those which featured you at the centre of them. Through various means, like the course they had attended or familiarising himself with different types of media above sea level, Jade had learnt that sharing clothes was a thing done between close friends or romantic partners, often being hailed as a sweet gesture and being positively received by characters and audiences alike. So when you had caught the eel’s interest, he had decided to see what the fuss was all about.

Despite his tendency to curate situations which would bring about whatever outcome he desired, the first time the opportunity arose had been a happy coincidence. That day, it had started raining cats and dogs right as the bell signalling lunch break rang. Luckily, Jade’s last class of the morning had been in the building the cafeteria was in, so he could watch in amusement as students swarmed towards the building with various forms of rain repellent keeping them dry- or not.

You had been one of the poor, unfortunate souls who had left their umbrella at the dorm that day, a point made abundantly clear by the way you had sprinted with your PE uniform jacket held over your head in a feeble attempt of shielding yourself. By the time you had made it into the dry hallway, your jacket had been absolutely drenched, the rest of your clothes not faring much better. Witnessing your predicament and seeing a chance to put his theory to the test, Jade had slinked over to your side.

“Oya, if I had known you were this fond of water, I would have invited you to the Coral Sea before,” the eel had said, startling you with his sudden appearance. Your reaction had only served for the polite smile on his lips to grow a tad bit wider. “Yet, here I was under the impression humans don’t like getting their clothes wet. Perhaps I have been wrong?”

“You know well enough this wasn’t intentional, so drop the oblivious act, Jade,” you had sighed, rustling through your backpack for something and subsequently taking your eyes off him. “So what do you want? If you’re trying to rope me into a deal over a little bit of rain, I’ll have to disappoint–”

Something warm and dry had landed on your shoulders then, your gaze landing on the black fabric draped over your form first and wandering back to the tall student afterwards. With your mouth parted, opening and closing in the search of something to say, you had borne a strong resemblance to a fish out of water.

“I heard humans get sick easily after walking in the rain,” Jade had mused, tugging at his vest and shirt to make sure they sat correctly without his blazer, “and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“What are you–” You had shaken your head, overcoming your initial confusion as you began shrugging the jacket back off your shoulders. At that point you had been sure he had some ulterior motive and you hadn’t felt like picking up any shifts at Mostro Lounge that week. “I can’t take this from you.”

“Oh, but you can,” he had insisted with a smile, a gloved hand landing on your shoulder to keep the clothing in place. “If you are worried about my health, I am most touched. However, us mers are used to the cold and therefore aren’t as prone to catching one.”

“That wasn’t really what I was concerned about,” you had mumbled, crossing your arms. “I’m more worried about whatever strings come attached with this thing.”

“You wound me. Do you really think I would abuse my fellow student’s misery for personal gain?” Despite his words, he had chuckled at your resolute ‘yes, you would’. The hand on your shoulder had pressed into your upper back then to bring you in closer in order to throw you off with the newfound proximity, disguised as shielding you from the throng of people heading to lunch. “If this is what stands in between you and caring for your health, how about this: In return for accepting my blazer, you accompany me to lunch? I’ll consider us even then, I promise.”

You had studied the vice housewarden more closely, yet, as usual, his expression did not give anything away. Just then a chilly breeze had blown through the corridor, making you tremble as you instinctively pulled the blazer tighter around your body.

“Fine, I’ll accept,” you had relented through chattering teeth.

“Wonderful,” the eel had beamed down at you before guiding you forward, still with his fingers splayed over your upper spine. Students had parted like the sea when they had seen the second year approaching and it was a welcome change of pace from having to fight your way into a spot in the queue.

By the time you had found a table, you had slipped your arms through the sleeves of Jade’s jacket to better hold your tray. And when you rolled up the excess fabric to properly use your cutlery, Jade finally realised why lending someone your clothes was a popular trope in various media.

To say the piece was ill-fitting was an obvious remark, with Jade easily being one of the tallest students around, you were practically drowning in his jacket. It had been eye-openingly endearing for him to say the least. And that was even without factoring in the expression on people’s faces when they realised whose clothes you had been wearing, the Octavinelle band around your left arm added to the context of the scene being a dead giveaway. Yes, as a born predator of the sea, a possessive side of him had revelled in the feeling of staking his claim over you in this way.

But he had shoved the notion down as you had asked him if he liked the food that day and how his morning had been. While he had been able to tell you were still a little wary, cautiously phrasing your responses at first, falling into a casual conversation with you was easy enough. When the anecdote of his brother doing something reckless again made you snort before laughing, he had filed it away as something he wanted to see and hear more of, especially when he was the cause for it.

Lunch had passed a little too fast for the moray’s liking but with one glance at his watch and then one at the still pouring rain, he had quickly devised a plan to monopolise your time to the fullest before returning to your classes.

“Allow me to walk you back to your dorm, so you can change before your next lesson,” Jade had smiled as he pulled out his umbrella, his arm hovering around your back as you had exited the cafeteria. “I assure you, this favour comes with no strings attached.”

Looking back at it years later, perhaps that last part had been a lie, though he was sure neither of you minded. Because after that rainy day, you had interacted more frequently with pleasantly changed feelings.

On Jade’s side of things, he had been more fascinated with you and your reactions than ever and the image of you swaddled in his clothes had managed to stir these newfound emotions in him. You, on the other side, had started considering him as more than a devious loan eel and allowed the normally tightly locked thoughts and feelings for him to come out of their confinement little by little.

After playing cat and mouse for a while, you had taken all your courage, grabbed Jade by the collar and confessed, not able to withstand the tension and anticipation any longer. Of course, he had reciprocated your feelings in teasing delight, which, as your relationship had become public, had easily catapulted you up the list of the school’s lunatics in the eyes of many. But you couldn’t have been happier and, the initial complexities of navigating a new relationship aside, Jade was a dream of a boyfriend if he wasn’t hellbent on prodding and poking you for his own amusement.

So it came as no surprise that, during your school years, you had spent a lot of time at each other’s dorms when Jade wasn’t dragging you up some mountain with him. At that point, you’d felt as comfortable in his room as in yours, even if half of it was shared with the sentient tornado that was Floyd, leaving one half to be pristine and the other opposingly messy.

Jade fondly remembered the day you had come over to study for your upcoming potionology exam, your own dorm room too loud to concentrate and hoping to rope the merman into helping you with your prep questions, especially as his brother had been absent from their room that evening. While many regarded him as the sly and conniving one in the relationship, Jade had to admit you were very good at playing your cards right to where he found it increasingly hard to deny you. Perhaps this cheekiness was one of the things that drew him to you.

Considering you had given up on studying in your room pretty much immediately and had only grabbed your books before marching over to Octavinelle, you had still been in uniform when you joined him at his desk. Ever observant, Jade had quickly noticed the way you subconsciously pulled at the clothes or squirmed in your seat trying to get comfortable.

So being the amazing and reliable boyfriend that he was, he had fished some comfortable loungewear out of his closet; he had initially bought it to round out his collection of essential clothing items, though frankly, he didn’t wear it much himself. With no plans to work at the Lounge that night, he had thought that it might be a good chance to give the comfy clothes another shot.

In retrospect, maybe he should thank your uncomfortable uniform.

When you had both changed into the loungewear, he had not only been amused by the way the shirt, which was a regular fit for him, engulfed your upper body or how you had rolled up the ends of his sweatpants. With some playful huffs at his teasing, you had gone back to work until you had finished writing your study notes, at which point you had relocated to his bed, Jade joining you soon after.

Sitting side by side, your boyfriend had taken to quizzing you to see how much you had retained until he had felt your head drop against his shoulder, which was the first time he had taken note of how late it had gotten. For a few moments he had done nothing but study the way your chest rose and fell with deep breaths, your slightly parted lips inviting him to trace his thumb over the curve of them in featherlight reverence. To think that he of all morays would ever be treated to such a peaceful fragment of mundanity, it had made a warmth tug at his heart the same way the waves rolled over the shore in a calming rhythm, which persisted to this day.

It had pained him to wake you again, so could get ready for bed, persuading you sweetly into staying the night. Though he regretted neither getting to see your half asleep face while you had brushed your teeth, nor how he had been able to pull you close to him under the covers, curling his arms around you as his fingers had wandered over the warmth of your skin under his clothes.

In the comfortable darkness of his room, you had exchanged hushed whispers and murmured confessions as you had settled in his embrace, lulled to sleep by the steady beating of his heart and the lips that had spelled promises of safety and adoration against your skin. And for Jade, tugged deep into the crevice of his heart, there had formed the image of a future where this domesticity was normality.

Years later, after graduation, Jade could proudly claim that this fantasy now lived at the forefront of his heart, that he could fall asleep and wake up to your body next to his, cradled by the allure of forever. After all, for no one but those closest to him would he be up with the rising sun to prepare breakfast, humming under his breath as he relived those memories. Though he considered all his efforts paid off when he heard you shuffle into the kitchen before two arms wrapped around his middle and your head leaned against his spine.

“Good morning to you too, pearl,” Jade chuckled as finished plating the eggs on two plates, then knowingly slid a fresh cup of coffee within your reach. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, until someone decided to just leave me all by my lonesome,” you grumbled, detaching yourself from him so you could lean against the counter and take a sip of coffee, prepared perfectly to your liking. “I like seeing my beautiful husband’s face first thing in the morning but alas…”

As you stepped into his field of vision, Jade noticed you had chosen not to wear a piece of clothing of yours, but had instead plucked his black dress shirt from the chair he had draped it over the day prior. His dress shirt and nothing else. While it was long enough on you to hide what was for his eyes only, it still showed off the beautiful curve of your legs, ending tantalisingly around your thighs. The few buttons you had closed still displayed the sharp contrast between your collarbones and the softness of the skin peeking through below. It would be all too easy to slip the garment from your shoulder…

“That does seem rather unfair,” Jade agreed as he stepped in front of you, hands ghosting along the expanse of your thighs to rest at your waist, the look in his eyes reminding you of his origins and sending shivers of excitement down your spine. “If you allow me, I have a few ideas in mind on how to make it up to you.”

Within the blink of an eye, his hands had steeled their grip around your waist and lifted you to sit on the counter as he took the opportunity to stand between your legs. Then, with a gentleness which did not match the show of strength, he carefully cupped the back of your head in his palm and connected your lips in a kiss as light and soft as the golden rays bathing your kitchen in light. Your own hands busied themselves with tousling his bed head once again, slowly sliding his black lock behind his left ear as you parted from one another, like a painter putting the finishing strokes on their magnum opus.

“Hm, I might be able to be convinced about forgiving you,” you teased, the lovestruck look in your eyes mirroring his as you slung your arms over his shoulders and crossed them behind his neck in an effort to be even closer to him.

“I must be the luckiest man alive,” he mused, meaning every word of his playful response.

Yes, after living on land for so long, Jade had truly taken a liking to the human custom of wearing clothes and all the different possibilities it held. Then again, the fondness those memories held probably had nothing to do with the clothes at all.

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years

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Well for a part two I was thinking it could happen a few years later or something like that. Daemon and reader are married, she is pregnant but she doesn't know that yet. I was thinking it would be sweet for Daemon to figure that out. Maybe Caraxes gets extremely overprotective of reader. They could have a small argument wholr caring for Caraxes and it would turn in the dragon growling at Daemon when he would rise his voice at the reader. It all becomes real when she faints one morning after getting out of bed so Daemon calls the maesters and they confirm that she's pregnant. and maybe the moment of the birth, Daemon holding his first child and getting to place a dragon egg inside the crib. Just general sweetness. I would be very pleased if you'd like to write this ! If not it's perfectly fine ! Thank you !

I love your brain! It’s filled with fascinating ideas. Also I love protective Caraxes. It’s just perfect.

Newsflash: I’m shit at writing birth scenes cuz I’ve never done it by I tried my best despite some possible inaccuracies.

Reader is female per request. Just letting ppl know beforehand before I forget.

Here’s part 1 for those who haven’t read it.

Your love for your Daemon has often left you blindsided to his darker impulses that you had soon became repulsed by your sudden faux ignorance to his crimes you’ve long kept silent about. Yet you found yourself still in love with him as the day you understood the word and shown said love in a multitude of ways that you probably shouldn’t have; so when news of Rhea Royce -Daemon’s bronze bitch of a Lady wife before you- having passed away on a hunting trip, the cause having that been of her horse being frightened by some means, crushing and as an result paralysing the poor woman. Those minor details didn’t catch your eye but what was added onto it oh most definitely did; apparently it was said that her head had been caved in and along with the apt timing of Daemon’s visitation at the Vale almost corresponded perfectly to the time of Rhea Royce’s death also too perfectly to be ignored by the public.

It fell together so seamlessly that it was no longer thought to be an outlandish accusation to assume that Daemon Targaryen, your husband, had killed Rhea Royce out of cold blood. You found yourself at a loss for words, torn between creating a false narrative to save face and protect Daemon’s ‘innocence’ and going mad within your denial of the truth presented before you as clear as day. It was obvious that to live someone was one thing but to defend their unjust cruelty towards others was another. Maegor was called ‘the cruel’ for good reason, given the how history written him to be; as it seemed history held an eternal grudge against house Targaryen and was willing to bury those who bore the name as repercussions for the wars they’ve waged and the homes, families and kingdoms that now laid to ruins because of them. It was only a matter of time before Daemon received similar treatment long after his passing, have his history written through venomous words and accounts from those who only ever spoke ill of him in life and death. It was also a matter of time before history treated you just as equally horrid as it would Daemon, Rhaenyra and Viserys.

Unfortunately you knew that many of the cousin members and even the king would already be privy to whom the most likely culprit was, given how eagerly Daemon was of disgracing Rhea’s name and insulting her beauty by claiming that the sheep of the Vale were prettier then her in front of an audience. You also knew that you’d sooner be caught in the crossfire unwillingly as a means of tarnishing your name along with his for keeping dark secrets concerning the kings brother for as long as you have in hopes of toppling you both and be done with it once and for all. No matter how much you wished to fight by Daemon’s side you have found yourself unable in your current state as of late; you know naught of how or when it came about but it is believed that it had started the first morning after you and Daemon consummated the marriage. Only then did it seem to linger longer then you had hoped days prior and have yet to speak a word of it to Daemon never less the Maesters but that could wait as there were more pressing matters to confront your beloved on firstly.

“Is it true?” Daemon’s ear picked up at your voice as he lowered himself from Caraxes back, “my spouse, you look as radiant as ev-“ “silence your silver tongue husband and answer me, is it true?” You cut him off venomously, not particularly in the mood for his honeyed words. “Why don’t you cease speaking in riddles and tell me what ales you so much to bare the vipers venom on your words.” Daemon began to hate the fact that slowly and surely enough your eyes were beginning to open and see him for whom the seven kingdoms truly saw him as. No longer were you carefree kids anymore and sooner or later uncomfortable realisations would have inevitably been made. Yet Daemon didn’t think that they’d poisoned your mind so quickly as they have and for which he would have their tongues for so they would never speak a word within your presence to doubt his character ever again; because to Daemon you were merely voicing the accusations that the kingdom have made against him, that it was the Seven kingdoms and his own brother that were forcing you into thinking him, your beloved, a villain in means of causing a rift between you too.

Daemon has fought tooth and nail to have you and he wasn’t planning on letting you slip over to their side so easily. Yet when the words flew from your lips and into his skin, Daemon could feel the prickling feeling of ice flooding his once fiery veins. “That you killed Rhea Royce as a means of selfishly securing yourself of the royalties of Runestone.” The air between you felt as though at a boiling pit and a subzero zone simultaneously as it only became increasingly difficult to breath in either conditions. Caraxes seemed to physically stiffen at your words as his eyes shifted from you to the back of Daemon’s head who’s silence didn’t help his case nor hinder; feeling as though you were in danger the Blood Wrym moved to shield you until he practically eclipsed the entrance to the cavern like stable of his. No matter how good natured his actions may have been they didn’t simmer the unease within your chest when Daemon looked at you like a stranger.

“Your believing them too now?“ he says eerily, lingering in the air to further build upon the unsettling feeling within your stomach as everything within you screamed, urged you to run from the one person who sworn to keep you safe since a young age. So when you didn’t and his hand laid upon your cheek felt as cold as ice as your breath hitched at the contact and instinctively pulled yourself away from his grasp and in the the broad front of Caraxes who towered over you silently in thought. “They’re poisoning your mind my beloved, they’ll say anything to cause conflict between use because they are jealous that what we have is real in comparison to them. We made our own choice whilst they did not in they wanted to spend their putrid lives with; they want to see us fight, the want to see us collapse so they may move in and claim whatever they want as their own. What evidence do they even hold over me to stake their claim?” Daemon’s eyes searched your tearful ones only to find that deep down you were at war with your heart. “Your visitation to the Vale is enough evidence, you snide comments is enough evidence, your eagerness to bed another whilst still in relations with her is enough evidence to be made against you Daemon. They have everything you have ever said against Rhea Royce and had it engraved in their memory for moments like this. Your carelessness has brought about your own end my beloved and in due time everyone will know. If they don’t already.”

You felt yourself fighting hard to remain able to withhold your ground during your squabble as your consciousness wavered in and out of focus as Daemon’s words only sounded muffled in your ears as though you’ve been held underwater; yet it didn’t take a fool to not notice the enraged look upon his face as he closed the distance between you two, gripping your wrist a tad too tightly for your liking and along with the anger in his eyes made you all the more fearful that in your moment of weakness, Daemon would take the life of his second victim, his sweet childhood friend, out of fear that you’d betray him like everyone else did. It scared you to think that the one person you’ve loved more then anything held the ability to kill you right then and there without any witness nearby to oversee the curfuffle nor come to your defence. Instead you closed your eyes and awaited the worst when Caraxes leaned his long next over you to shove Daemon away, causing his hand to loose grip of your wrist as he fell on his backside harshly. “Caraxes! What is your issue! You’ve been like this for awhile now!” Daemon yelled up at his dragon who merely roared in his face, silencing the Targaryen quickly.

Neither you nor Daemon were quite certain what had caused Caraxes sudden change in personality because in recent memory the dragon had always been seen more so by your side then Daemon which raised some rumours that have long since been forgotten by mostly everyone. In reality however Caraxes was merely protecting you and the unborn babe within your womb and in turn had be growing protective of you ever since he could sense the additional life next to yours. So when Daemon exuded a threatening presence towards you and in extension his kin, was Caraxes final straw. Daemon had ruined everything in his life thus far and the dragon didn’t want the only consistent in his life since he was a babe himself to face because of his human’s impulsiveness; To Caraxes you were just as much apart of him as Daemon was and to be apart from you was akin to loosing a limb, all though it maybe gone, you can still feel it’s presence episodically.

Whenever moments like the one between you and Daemon were to ever arise, Caraxes felt the need to protect you, his mother, and going against his Targaryen counter part to ensure your safety even if it means harming another to achieve it. “Caraxes.” You whispered faintly before allowing the dragon to encouragingly nudge you out of the stables, allowing you to rest your full weight against him as he escorted you back to the castle, where he’d await to see you from the windows of your chambers before clambering back to the stables to whack Daemon upside the head with his tail for good measure before forcefully shoving him out also. Still angry at him for threatening yours and your child’s safety.

The next morning became a struggle for you in particular. The mere act of getting out of bed had become a difficult task as you heaved with all your strength to push yourself in to a sitting position before trying your luck once more to push yourself to you feet when all suddenly became black and your body slumped to the floor; causing a great thud that alerted Daemon, who had long since calmed down from your argument, to quickly take to his sword and rush up to your chambers in perpetration to fight off whoever sneaked into your room whilst you were in your most vulnerable state. Only to find your body pressed uncomfortably against the cold chamber floor, unmoving, fearing the worst; Daemon threw away his sword to one side as he rushed to your aid, cradling you in his arms, his face a mere contrition of all the emotions he was feeling in that moment. Guilt over never apologising to you for his heinous actions against you, anger over his own need to protect his pride when he swore to protect and defend you just as much, sadness for how your dream life seemed to have taken for the worse then he promised you and an overwhelming feeling of being lost without you guiding him like the light he knew you were.

Daemon wasn’t the only one who heard your fall as several servants rushed not too long after the prince to check upon you but not out of your safety but only out of fear of what Daemon would do to them if they had left you in such a state. However as much as they prayed to be spared of any punishment, it seemed to have gone unheard as when they opened the door to witness Daemon hold you in his arms so crushingly tight; they were met with fierce violet eyes that pierced through them and into their souls in hopes of sparking a fire that would kill them from the inside out. “What are you idiots standing there gawking like seagulls?! Fetch the Maesters!” Daemon roared in anger, watching as they scrambled, shoved, pulled one another behind the other as they raced to get out of the room to evade Daemon’s wrath. The prince scoffed in disgust but his features quickly soften as he looked down at you with all the regret one man could ever bare upon his face; the day of your argument haunts him so but nothing haunted him more then the look of fright within your eyes at his sudden outburst, almost as though you were anticipating a repeat of his actions at the Vale.

He didn’t care what anybody thought about him, he couldn’t care less if in their eyes they see a monster but he couldn’t stand to be viewed the same in yours. As children he swore to protect you from all those who’d dare chase you harm but he didn’t know that there would come a day where he’d be the one bringing harm to your front doorstep. Now he wasn’t certain he was going to be given the time to repent for his actions as he held you close against his chest, refusing to let go even as the maesters came through the doors, tried their might to pry you from his arms only for him to tighten his hold before giving in to their pleas to check you over under the circumstances that he were to stay by your side. “My prince,” the Maester began after checking you over thoroughly before coming to a resolution, “it seems that your spouse is with child and has fainted but luckily has not sustained any injury that would cause her highness nor your child any prolonging issues.” Daemon’s eyes never left you face as the news struck him. All this time you’ve been with child and he has the nerve to place you in a stressful situation where your emotions would be tested to their limitations; He grasped your hand tightly in his, “thank you, you may leave us.” He dismissed the Maesters who bowed and left your chambers so the prince could shed his tears in peace. “We’re going to have a child.” Daemon muttered to himself, resting his head gently against your stomach, “we’re going to have a child. Oh gods bless this day and the many more to come until their arrival. I promise to better myself not only for you my love but for myself, Caraxes and our unborn child.” He promised.

The day of your child birth came swift and soon though not without excruciating pain. Though it was all the more rewarding when you got to hold your child within your arms with Daemon by your side. “Healthy as a horse your highness.” The midwife claimed before handing you the child that clutched to your fingers, cooing. You looked to Daemon who only stared down at the child with love, reaching a finger out to stroke his cheek and smiling when the child’s smaller fingers grasped onto his longer nimble one like a life line. “Have any thoughts on what we should name them my love.” You asked softly as to not disrupt the baby form their slumber. “I believe it is in your right to name the child as only one of us had bled to give them life my beloved.” Daemon said, kissing your slightly sweaty forehead gingerly, never breaking his gaze from the babe bundled in the blooded cloth. “Rhaenar.” You concluded post haste, smiling when the child cooed at the chosen name, giving their incoherent approval. “Rhaenar it shall be.” Daemon replied, holding you tightly against him as you both looked at your child, taking in the features they inherited from the both of you from Daemon’s facial features to your eyes and so forth. The silence lingered for as long as you allowed until Daemon removed himself from your side to elsewhere in the room, leaving you albeit confused until you saw him return with a pitch black dragon egg within his hands. You were aware of the Targaryen customs for when a new child under their house is born, they are gifted an dragon egg that will hatch into their bonded dragon; So to bare witness to it for your own child left a warmth within your chest knowing that for good or for bad, you were a Targaryen as much as your child was.

“I handpicked this myself,” Daemon explained as he placed the dragon egg into the crib with care, “may I?” He asked, gesturing to the child. “Of course they are your child as well Daemon.” You chuckled as you handed Rhaenar over to him, watching with love and adoration in your eyes as he cradled the child to his chest, smiling brightly when the child reached for his face to which he leaned down for the child to poke and pull lightly at his platinum locks. “I shall protect you and your mother from all harm but that also means that when you get older you must uphold that same promise also.” Dameon spoke softly to the child before angling them so they were facing you on the bed, “your mother is the most beautiful in all the seven kingdoms, even if she does bite my head off from time to time.” You scoffed playfully, “I do no such thing Rhaenar, don’t listen to your fool of a father. He tripped over his one feet when I said yes to being his.” Daemon covered the child’s ears as he glared at you playfully, “don’t want you ruining my reputation in front of our child now or else he’ll think I’m soft.” “You are soft though Daemon, hate to break it to you.” He chuckled in response as he placed the baby down in the crib though not before pressing a kiss to their forehead and a quick ‘I love you’ to join you in bed. “Such a tragic fate to befall a man to unconditionally love his child and lady.” He joked, stealing a kiss from your lips. “Yes how unfortunate indeed.” You joined in, snuggling against his side as you both watched over your child protectively.

Bonus:

Caraxes strained his long neck to the window of your chambers to get a look at the child, cooing softly as he watched the two newly made parents snuggle up in bed whilst watching over their child. The babe would grow into someone extraordinary under you and Daemon’s parentage the dragon concluded. Though he’d soon smack Daemon once more for claiming that he chose the dragon egg when in actual fact it was Caraxes who had chosen the egg. Daemon was going to gift an ugly mishmash of a brownish-red egg before his dragon pointed him to a more suitable egg. If one squinted however not only would you be able to see that while it was an entirely pitch black egg there was hints of fiery red here and there. Caraxes was happy to see his family grow slightly larger, though more so he was happy that his Targaryen decided to grow up for the sake of you and the family. He couldn’t be more prouder…now how was he going to explain that he practically demolished some architectural structures just to bare witness to the childbirth…

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evelhak · 2 months

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youtube

Aaaaa, this!!! I literally cried, I am so happy to see some actual common sense!! I am so, SO tired of this trend, it's not just Rory either, there's a really unfair pattern going on where the "renaissance" on a piece of media is basically just fans ripping a protagonist to pieces for things that these fans do not hold other characters, particularly beloved antagonists and rivals, accountable for.

This video perfectly illustrates the dynamic: Rory, who tries her best to both achieve her goals and be a decent human being while doing it, who never was a perfect human if you paid attention, gets held to the standard of an angel, so every time she makes a mistake that mistake is treated as disproportionately horrible and irredeemable. Meanwhile, as a good example, Paris, who consistently treats other people horribly, gets downright babied, and how she deserved better is repeated, her own responsibility over her actions downplayed or completely ignored. Only her good qualities are remembered, and highlighted.

There's an excellent quote in the video:

"The audience loves Paris because she is so over the top that she becomes a non-character. But when you take her as a real person and judge her with the same standards as you would Lorelai and Rory, she is pretty terrible."

This. This happens with so many characters whose traits are so much that they are viewed as inherently comedic or unbelievable, so they don't count in people's eyes. Paris having a fit in her college entrance interview, yelling over the interviewers and defending eugenics, gets brushed off as "poor baby, she's clearly mentally ill, she just deserves better, she should have gotten in", while Rory, who got manipulated into an internship by the BIGGEST journalism figure just so he could tell her "she didn't have it" was JUST weak and entitled for getting upset and discouraged over it.

Paris cheating on her boyfriend for months with a college professor gets pushed under the rug because people are too uncomfortable to even acknowledge the whole thing, meanwhile Rory is THE WORST for sleeping with a married guy after she repeatedly asked him if both him and his wife agreed their marriage was over, suggested they could try counselling, and was lied to by said guy that both he and his wife knew things were over between them.

Yeah, Rory made mistakes, and definitely didn't act perfectly after either of the situations I mentioned. She was emotional and people generally make mistakes when they are. But for some reason certain characters get a free pass all the time, while it feels almost like Rory gets punished for even trying to be a good person. Like "See, I caught her making a mistake, that means she's the worst." As if trying to have morals and be decent is inherently arrogant and hypocritical. Like trying and failing is worse than not even trying. It's like, her mom and grandparents and home town expect her to be perfect, so fans did too, and now they're mad at her for being human because they put her on a pedestal. Meanwhile characters who consistently don't care about their impact on others don't get scrutinized, their actually horrible behaviour is just taken as comedy or proof of their victimhood.

Basically, people are desensitized to horrible things from certain characters, they expect it, so they don't react to it, but when Rory who is "supposed to be good" makes a mistake, it's suddenly the core of her character and all she is. Geez.

And don't get me wrong, I love both Paris and Rory. I love every character in the show. But this double standard drives me nuts. So many characters in the show have done very similar things as Rory gets accused of, some of them while feeling no remorse. Some of them have done a lot worse things that get forgiven easily.

And don't even get me started on what a hot guy with a tragic backstory gets excused for. Yeah, some things are understandable when you know the backstory. That doesn't make those things not wrong.

It's like people are obsessed with the idea that someone who appears good on the surface must be bad, and vice versa. Nuance be damned.

#Youtube #bad media analysis #gilmore girls

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running-with-kn1ves · 11 months

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HSJKSKSS THE BF WHO FCKED THE GF ON A FACE TIME CALL 💀💀💀 I usually don't send requests but i cant help myself with this one because you quite posibly have created my dream man 😍 the way he was speaking to her and teasing her 🙈🙈🙈 he was soooo sexy the way you wrote him groaning and bucking like my heart (and other things) hurt 🥲 can you write something with him and reader and basically she tells him she's not feeling well so she stays home at her apt but he goes and finds her at a club instead, dancing with her friends that she hasn't seen and her ex also happens to be there 👀 nsfw if you're okay with it, with him fucking her in front of said ex. I read your rules so its ok if this doesn't pick your interest but i still wanted to let you know how much i love that yandere!!!

Got a little inspired by this idea anon so here's my take on it😋I really loved writing the kind of public, riskiness of that fic so I'm glad you cared for it dude!!

TW: Noncon, toxic relationships/yandere behaviors, punishment, NSFT, yandere films himself rearranging readers guts

Your first mistake was when you tried to use the old “out-sick” approach. You weren’t the world's best actor but even if you were, you probably still wouldn’t be able to fool your boyfriend. He was too skeptical, too observant and too invested for your own good. He always managed to find out; always. And each time, you got less and less confident about being able to escape him, even for a little while.

“I’ve got a fever of 105, and I’m really contagious. I promise we can go out tomorrow, I just…. Need some alone time to rest for now. To get better, so I can see you.”

You knew it was a poor lie, that there was the chance that he would come over anyway, trying to potentially take care of you or scold you for letting yourself get this sick. But, he hadn’t even needed to. It wasn’t long after the phonecall that he got a ding from his phone, your location having updated. You were in an unfamiliar area, one that wasn’t recognizable as one of your many common stops. It was a bar, one that was hosting a small event with karaoke and cheap booze. It made much more sense to him when he came to find you and saw your friends surrounding you; he was disappointed, angry, and felt betrayed; but those feelings only lasted for a second. The image of you talking to one of your ex’s, sent him into a different state. It was just a quick turn of your gaze where he caught the corner of your eye, standing next to a barstool.

Pieces of his phone crunched in between his fingers, his eyes blank as he saw your face morphed from shame to grief. It felt like a rock sank in your stomach, the panic of him having caught you in your lie making your feet go wobbly.

You were the first to approach, excusing yourself from the conversation with your ex-partner, who your boyfriend was already getting malicious ideas towards. He was more angry at you, though; for having tricked him so openly. You walked to him slumped, ashamed of yourself but upset that your boyfriend was even here in the first place.

You knew your short-lived freedom was over, feeling the pinch of his fingers wrap around your wrist. He pulled you to the car, forcing you in with a slam of the door. You hadn’t even gotten the chance to say goodbye to your friends, even though they were halfway to being in a stupor.

The punishment wasn’t pretty; the worst, most embarrassing part of it came when your boyfriend managed to get his hands on your ex’s number. Thankfully, only the one you had been talking to that night. But that one number was enough of an audience for your boyfriend to have a field day.

At first you didn’t know why he was holding the phone up, though you could barely see it from how restrained he had you. But it didn’t take long for him to shove it up and close at your pretty, worn out face. You could hardly keep your eyes straight, shuddered breaths leaving your sticky mouth. He enjoyed the positions where your whole body could be seen, could be displayed on camera to show your ex what was his, how he was using it. Especially when he could hold your jaw, telling you to look pretty, asking you to smile for a “little picture.” He got the chance to shove his face against your neck and show how deeply he could fuck you, could make you into nothing but a mess for him. What he loved most to send was the pictures of deep, swollen lovebites, of the marks his nails make on your skin.

“C’mon baby, don’t you wanna say something to the camera? Maybe beg for them to come and save you?”

Each thrust had your insides rearranged, your boyfriend lowering his phone to show the mess that was him inside of you, the drips on your thighs and the sweat that clung to your skin. The worst part of all in this punishment-- was the lack of control you had, the fact that you couldn’t stop yourself from bellowing out sounds caused by your pleasure. The will he had on your body had you saying things that made it hard to look at yourself in the mirror.

You knew you’d never be able to escape from the blackmail he now held over you. It was hard to come to terms with that, but the more often it happened---the harder it was to pay attention to it.

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archivalofsins · 3 months

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So, this is what I've gathered from the information that came out from Deep Cover and this is what I definitively believe happened.

There’s an article that Kotoko was reading in the middle of Deep Cover that has been translated. The contents of the article explain that Kotoko was taken to court after the incident in the warehouse. Kotoko testified that what she had done was self-defense. That her and the perpetrator of the kidnapping got into a scuffle as she was trying to rescue the girl and he died as a result of that.

This conflicts with what we are shown in Harrow.

In Harrow we see that Kotoko does not intervene while witnessing the girl being abducted. Instead deciding to come back to the location later after changing her attire.

This already conflicts with Kotoko's testimony that she ended up fighting the victim as she caught him red-handed as he tried to abduct another victim.

According to the female university student, she claimed that she had no other choice but to kill the victim in order to stop the jostling between the two when she caught the victim, who was a child kidnapper, red-handed.

Red-handed means in the middle of the act by definition.

She just did not fucking do that. It's illustrated to us that she did not do that in Harrow. So we already know her testimony is a lie off of this alone.

Yet, we are further shown that her plea of self-defense is baseless from Harrow as well. Since we are shown Kotoko surprise attacking the perpetrator.

Furthermore her first music video blatantly shows us her attempting to track down the victim. As we see her paying others for information on the matter. Along with her very obvious wall of baddies to hunt down. Where she has the victim circled before even encountering him.

Making her actions premeditated as well.

This makes it clear to the Milgram audience (who have access to this information unlike the court) that Kotoko had no intention of letting the perpetrator live to begin with regardless of what he was doing.

Just like the wall implies with her other victims in Deep Cover-

"Everytime death comes. The soul moves forward." "It’s a tie after saying sorry? What are you hoping for? Shall we replace the poor soul, and the miserable delusion. “I didn’t mean to offend”, “I won’t do it again” How many wins in a row?" - "Who don’t we want? Give me the verdicts of GUILTY." "I want a reason for judgment execution, I want it. Give me the next target."

22/08/05 (Kazui’s Birthday) Kotoko: ……Mukuhara Kazui. Thanks to you, I wasn’t able to properly serve justice to those who did something unforgivable. I’m currently acting as an agent for our prison guard Es. Don’t get in my way next time. Kazui: Oi oi, don’t be silly, Yuzuriha-chan. There’s no way I could just look away from your outrageous display of violence. Anyway, even disregarding the fact violence against those voted guilty isn’t a part of Milgram’s system, what you’re doing is just acting recklessly based on a broad interpretation. As long as I’m free myself, I’ll stop you. Kotoko: ……what a pointless argument. Hmph. Since Es forgives you, I have no choice but to forgive you myself too. If you to keep to your words, then you’d best do what you can to keep being forgiven. If you’re not, then next time you’ll be one of my targets. Kazui: Oh, how scary. That girl truly is frightening. ……well then, I wonder what the guard will decide to do with me. That’s the one thing I really can’t make out. Honestly……

Kotoko had no intention of letting anyone on that wall live. That wasn't an investigation it was a hit list. She just happened to conveniently find that guy in the middle of commiting a crime. Unlike the other guy she found living his everyday life and just chased into a side alley and jumped. This is more than likely why she didn't initially intervene when she saw the child being abducted in broad daylight.

Because if she did the chances of her being seen by someone else were more likely. If she waited until they were inside and changed her attire to better conceal her identity the likelihood of others intervening would be slimmer. If she only ever wanted to save that girl she could have did so right then and there when she did in fact catch him red-handed abducting her.

Yet, it was never about that. It was always about killing him and continuing on her personal crusade for justice.

The article then goes onto discuss how the elementary school age victim testified corroborating Kotoko’s story of self-defense. Stating that with her testimony and Kotoko's the defense stated that a case of genuine self-defense was established. Mr.Kaneshiro the newspaper president and father of the victim in this case later held a press conference discussing the barbaric nature of Kotoko’s actions. This seems to have taken place after Kotoko had been acquitted of any wrong doing.

The jury ruling this as a legitimate case of self-defense. During the press conference he stated that an independent investigation of events had been done. During which another autopsy had been conducted and established that there were injuries on the victim that could have only been caused by an excessive use of force. Additionally he announced that the school student who had testified corroborating Kotoko’s statement as saying that she had saved her recanted their testimony.

He speculated that Kotoko had threatened or coerced the girl into giving the testimony to begin with. Given Kotoko’s history with law.

Q.07 What did you study at university? Kotoko: Technically, I’m studying law. I’m on a break right now because there’s something else I want to do, though.

It is more than likely that Kotoko coached/groomed the elementary schooler to lie on the stand to better strengthen her case. If two witnesses are corroborating the same story and one of them is the elementary aged victim as jury is more likely to believe them than a dead child abductor.

The article even mentions that Kotoko goes to a famous university. Given that we know Kotoko was studying law and the school she was going to is famous/prestiguous or well renowned we can now track it down. The University she was more than likely going to could very well be-

Keio Law School in Tokyo, Japan

Or some play on it. It's so famous in fact that just googling famous law school Tokyo results in this.

So, that's another university down. (I say this tentatively because I didn't do that deep of a search into this or much of a search at all. Again this is the first school to come up searching the information provided to us. Honestly this post isn't about how finacially well off Kotoko is and whatever expensive illustrious college she goes too.)

Though I wonder how a prestigious or famous school would feel about one of it's students being involved in such a case. Was she really taking a break or did whatever school she was going to no longer wish to affiliate with her due to the accusations. Scandals like this aren't that good for schools of that caliber. Plus, even though the article doesn't mention the school by name just looking into Kotoko herself would show her ties to it.

This is an article on a press conference featuring concerning the death of wealthy business owners son. Someone who very well could have ties to the school Kotoko is attending. That's enough to well I don't ruin all her life plans honestly. People have been expelled for less and this guy now has pretty good standing to say that you're a brutish menace to society who shouldn't even be allowed on the street let alone studying and practicing law.

Who wants a murderer for a lawyer are these the sort of students this place takes in. Students who use excessive violence and coerce and threaten minors?! That'd certainly be a big scandal wouldn't it? The only thing that could make this worse is well if the father of the man she killed was the president of a news paper-

Kaneshiro Isamu’s (68) President of Senkou Newspaper loses only son in display of excessive force by student from xxxxx University.

Now that's a headline and he can run it as many times as he wants. I mean he's the president of the newspaper after all. He's a grieving father after all even if his son did have problems. Having someone like that have an issue with your school or you well that would be bad.

Back to what the audience in shown in Harrow. We know that Kotoko got the jump on her victim in an enclosed space with wooden flooring in contrast to the open space of the warehouse where the victim died later.

Giiven Kotoko's connection and knowledge of law among these other factors I believe this is the most likely timeline of the warehouse incident-

Kotoko takes the victim by surprise attacking him in the enclosed space.

The victim grabs the hammer near his feet and attempts to fight Kotoko off.

As we've been over previously, despite what the victim's shadow alludes to he is shown physically swinging the hammer ahead of him and facing forward not to the side.

The victim flees the enclosed space trying to put distance between himself and his assailant. Possibly even trying to flee the scene entirely.

Kotoko chases the victim down into the larger area of the warehouse. The part with concrete flooring. Catching him and finishing the man off.

Punching and stomping him out with an excessive use of force after already getting him to the ground.

After the incident Kotoko groomed/coached this child to lie in court for her. What Kotoko did is blatantly illustrated to be grooming.

Ove the course of the Deep Cover mv the young girl begins to mimic Kotoko’s behavior.

First through getting a hat of her own to be more like Kotoko,

Then on the street she is shown to be imitating how Kotoko walks and glares,

Before spotting Kotoko and trying to speak to her.

Taking advantage of this clearly traumatized child who she again left to suffer through this situation longer by choosing to not intervene when she saw her being taken to begin with.

Someone who more than likely looked up to her as her hero. The person who saved her from that. What is an elementary schooler going to do when someone who saved their life, the person who got them out of such a harrowing situation tells them that they may be punished for it. That they might go to jail for just trying to rescue them and the only way they can avoid that is by saying that the excessive use of force that this child more than likely witnessed was self-defense.

Their rolemodel, their hero, no their savior couldn't be wrong. This couldn't have been-

"Is this selfish? This isn’t too much is it?"

This wasn't excessive it needed to be done for you to be safe. Besides-

"I've never asked for your understanding!"

Kotoko even incentivises and goads this idolization from the girl in the lyrics of Deep Cover stating,

“Come on, rely on me, go on.”

Kotoko attempts to implement the same tactics we see her use here within Milgram on Es. Over the course of her first and second voice drama. However, it is made more apparent in her second voice drama than in her first.

Kotoko Voice Drama 1, Kotoko Voice Drama 2.

After the girl recanted her statement possibly because of what she saw Kotoko do later on the street in Deep Cover (or maybe even at the behest of her parents who have every right to be suspicious of this type of person hanging around their young daughter but that’s a bit too speculative) Kotoko meets up with her in the park. As she is reading the article discussing the recanting of the girl's statement during this scene she more than likely is meeting with the girl to discuss it.

This meeting may be an attempt to persuade the girl into retestifying on her behalf or coming out with a statement of her own in defense of Kotoko. This is more speculative but it would not be hard for Kotoko to frame it as though Mr.Kaneshiro had threatened the girl into recanting the testimony. Becuase he is a very wealthy and powerful individual it would not be difficult for people to believe that during this independent investigation he coerced the girl into withdrawing her statements to strengthen his own case.

Many can probably guess how that conversation turned out from her second trial glitched voice line.

“From the beginning I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing earth closer to peace. Useless weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!”

It is likely that the girl refused to retestify. She may have even told Kotoko that she chose to recant her statement of her own volition. Not liking the behavior, she saw later. At this point it is highly likely that at the refusal to retestify on her behalf Kotoko came up with another plan. It would be incredibly easy to kill the girl herself then claim that she planned to retestify.

That she had come crying to her about how she'd been threatened into recanting her statement and she was too scared to say anything by herself, but someone must have seen. They were in public after all and then this happened. Better to that than to risk having the girl not only recant her testimony but possibly tell others about what she had seen her do recently as well.

Especially while the police were still seeking the assailant in the incident of the man in the back alley. Right now, they thought it was a man but if the girl told then it would be all over for her. The girl simply knows too much. Plus, with the news already framing her as a violent barbarian it'd be easy for people to believe she'd assaulted the other man as well.

While we don’t have solid confirmation of the girl’s death yet. The fact of the matter is most of the music videos of trial two have been focused on the victim’s side of things. The fact that Kotoko’s mv isn’t from the perspective of/highlights the child abductor or the man she jumped in the alley later is incredibly telling. Her glitched voice line in the second trial voice trailer being,

“From the beginning I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing earth closer to peace. Useless weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!”

Is very telling as well. Since the statement implies that she is addressing a useless weakling, someone that cannot protect themselves, someone who needs her, someone that looks up to her. Someone that's outlived their usefulness to Kotoko because they refuse to defend/support her behavior anymore. All the things this child is shown to do throughout Deep Cover.

Making it increasingly more likely that Kotoko did not just kill the child abductor but the child as well. Because from the beginning Kotoko has said-

"If it damaged someone’s dream to the point of stopping it- I’ll gouge you out with my fangs."

It doesn't matter to her whether the person getting in the way of her dream is an adult or child.

20/06/18 Amane: Thank you very much for teaching me. ……but, though I realise it’s strange me saying this after I asked you, I must admit it’s kind of unexpected. You give off the impression of someone who wouldn’t want to get involved in things like this. Kotoko: ……well, you’re not wrong. I’m surrounded by people who could all be murderers, so I don’t plan on going out of my way to talk and make friends. I can’t let my guard down. But I like ambitious people like you. If you want to study more, then I’m happy to teach. Amane: I see…… You look scary at first impression, but I quite like the way you treat everyone equally regardless of whether they’re older or younger than you. You don’t just treat me like a child or anything like that. Kotoko: Treat you like a child? Hah, you’ve got to be kidding. Back when I was your age, I was already the person I am today. I don’t have any plans to let you get away with something just “because you’re a child.” ……remember that. There, I’ve finished marking. 83%. How do I put it… Even though you act like this, it’s not like you’re super brilliant at studying or anything, huh.

If her dream if all she ever wanted was a target. Someone to execute that whom she could feel justified in executing then anyone will do. It doesn't matter how small or large the offense. Evil is evil. Even if that evil is as simple as disagreeing with her actions or recanting a statement.

Even worse voting her Innocent just to vote her guilty later is a lot like recanting a statement isn't it. Man those Haruka and Kotoko parrallels keep growing. Didn't he say that if we got close we wouldn't like him, didn't he just argue about how unfair it is to say he's good and then change our mind later during his second voice drama.

"Tell me why you tell me, “Stop”. Don’t you dare stop now."/"Tell me why? Please don’t change."

Just a really interesting thing going on there.

Kotoko even apologizes to Es for not being able to properly deliver punishment to Amane Momose and Mikoto Kayano at the beginning of her second voice drama. Finding it laughable that Es expected that she would not deliver punishment to Amane just because she was a child. Reiterating that she in fact planned to jump the girl as she did Mahiru and Futa as well. However, she was deterred not only by how much time she spent fighting Mikoto but by Kazui as well who intervened once she reached Futa.

So, she has no qualms with killing or severely injuring minors or manipulating them in order to get away with her own actions. At the end of the day-

This is Milgram.

People can vote whichever way they want for any bias under the sun. They can turn away from whatever information they dislike and prop up whatever best fits the narrative they want to see. They can be just as self-centered, coniving, and dishonest as the prisoners themselves. Because when you like someone, when you admire them, you'd do anything to make sure they're doing okay even lie in court or withold information from the police.

Because you believe deep down they're good and if you just give them the opportunity to be that then they will. If you're just sympathetic and try to talk to them about it certainly they'll understand.

"Say that sympathy is useless."

Kotoko's shown us exactly where thinking like that gets you with her- Does anyone feel lucky enough to test that again?

#milgram #yuzuriha kotoko #kotoko yuzuriha #tw grooming

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tiannasfanfic · 2 years

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Secret Admirer

Eddie Munson x Reader (Fluff)

[Masterlist] [Crossposted to AO3]

Summary: Telling someone you fell for them is always hard. However, it's even harder when the person you love is also your best friend. When you can't find the courage to tell Eddie Munson how you feel to his face, you decide to let him know in a more...round about sort of way.

Rating: General Audiences

Author Note: Gender neutral reader, no pronouns used. This was initially supposed to be a oneshot, but now looks like it's going to be a two or three parter.

CW: Smoking cigarettes; white lies; slightly awkward conversations.

Word Count: 2.407

“Dustin! Hey Dustin!”

Dustin didn’t hear you. That wasn’t surprising since the final bell rang just a little bit ago and the halls were flooded with people ready to leave.

While you were also in a hurry to leave, you really needed to catch up with the freshman first. And you needed to do it before any of the other Hellfire members were around to see. You may have not known Dustin for long since school just started a little over two months ago, but it was long enough to know you could trust him with this task.

“Dustin! Wait up, Dustin!!!”

The little shit was much faster than you’d have guessed and was way ahead of you when he finally heard his name being called. He stopped to look around and waved when he saw you running up to him.

“Hey Y/N,” Dustin said as you screeched to a stop in front of him. “What’s the hurry?”

It took you a minute to respond. You were out of breath after running from the hall where your last class was to the hall where Dustin’s last class was. It was halfway across the school, and you were pretty sure you broke at least one record to get over there that fast.

“Hold.” Pant. “Up.” Wheeze. “A.” Pant. “Minute.” Cough.

At that very moment, you doubled over with your hands on your knees, your face starting to tingle and turn red as you gasped for air.

“You okay?” Dustin asked, clapping you on the back as if you were choking instead.

You waved him off and finally caught your breath after a minute.

“Yeah,” you said, standing up straight. “I gotta get to work, but you have Hellfire tonight, right?”

“Yup, every Monday after school from 3 to 7,” Dustin said, nodding.

“Sweet,” you said, pulling a small black box wrapped with a red ribbon, which you then handed to Dustin. “Some chick after third period gave this to me and said to give it to Eddie. I forgot to tell him at lunch, so now that honor goes to you.”

Dustin looked between you and the object now in his hand, which was about the size of a large ring box. He wrinkled his nose.

“Do I have to?” he asked. “Can’t you just give it to him yourself tomorrow?”

“No can do,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m libel to forget I even have it and I promised her Eddie would get it today.”

Dustin knew better than to argue. Everyone knew you had a poor memory and knew you didn’t make promises lightly. If you promised Eddie would get it today so you wouldn’t forget, then Eddie was getting it today so you wouldn’t forget.

Tucking the box into his coat pocket, Dustin promised to give it to Eddie as soon as he saw him. The two of you parted ways, him in one direction to go to the drama room for Hellfire and you in direction of the front entrance so you could go to work. You were practically skipping down the hall, happy that had gone well. You didn’t really expect it not too since Dustin was a good kid and he absolutely adored Eddie. You knew he’d come through for you.

Now it was just a waiting game to see how Eddie would react.

Getting a random gift from a secret admirer didn’t seem like something he would keep from you. The two of you told each other everything and had for years. The only thing you had ever kept a total secret from Eddie was how you truly felt about him.

It was as a strange feeling to be in love with your best friend. A very strange feeling indeed.

The two of you met in 8th grade when he transferred in from another district. That was the year Eddie had moved to this side of town to live with his uncle. While he had been instantly branded as a freak by the popular crowd, your reputation was somewhere basic outsider territory. It didn’t bother you to befriend him though, and you two instantly clicked.

Your feelings didn’t develop until sometime in sophomore year. Or that’s when you noticed them, at least. There was no catalyst or series of events that led to the moment. You just suddenly realized it one day in the middle of a math lesson. You hadn’t been thinking about him and didn’t have math class with him, it just hit you completely randomly and unexpectedly. It rendered you incapable of concentrating for the rest of the day.

Considering Eddie had never made any moves on you, never stated an interest in you and had never even flirted with you, it was obviously a one-sided crush. You were best friends, not really anything else. You tried to ignore it, figuring it would eventually go away without reciprocation.

Rather than go away though, your feelings grew into love.

And now, as you were both starting over your senior years for the second time each, you had decided this was going to be the year you finally tell Eddie how you feel.

Eventually.

You would tell him how you felt eventually.

While Eddie had a few very short-term relationships over the years, he hadn’t dated in a long time. That had to mean he didn’t want anything serious right now. Plus, if he did want to date, that didn’t mean he wanted to date you. You kept reminding yourself of this to keep you from getting your hopes up. Which is why you had elected to go this route. If he didn’t seem interested after a few anonymous gifts and notes, you’d leave the whole thing alone. No harm done, no damaged friendship.

What you didn’t expect was for that one little box to spark Eddie’s curiosity into a full-on blaze.

He was waiting for you in the school parking lot the next morning. You barely got your car parked in your usual spot before he had ran over from his van and opened your door for you.

“Y/N, it’s time for you and I to have a talk,” he said, his tone and facial expression serious.

You stared up at him blankly as he smirked down at you. Surely he hadn’t figure it out that quickly?

You decided your best option right now was to play dumb.

“Er, okay?” you said, climbing out of your car and putting your jacket on. “What about?”

“Oh, I think you know what it’s about,” he said, a playful tone coming to his voice.

You dipped back into your car to collect your bag, backpack, and lunch box from the passenger seat, then shut your car door. While you may have appeared calm and sleepy on the outside, inwardly you were panicking. You didn’t expect him to grill you less than an hour after you woke up.

Luckily for you, Eddie took your stunned and panicked silence for you still waking up.

“The box from yesterday?” he said, as he grabbed your backpack from you to sling it from one shoulder to carry for you like he always did.

You continued staring at him, mouth dropping open slightly, your brow furrowed.

Now you weren’t acting, you suddenly found yourself unable to speak as you looked at him.

“The one you gave to Dustin to give to me?”

Oh fuck, he knew. He somehow figured it out. He knew you gave it to him. This is it.

Right as you were on the verge of spilling your guts, Eddie chimed in again.

“The box the girl gave you yesterday to give to me?”

Oh. Right. You had given it to Dustin, saying someone had given it to you.

“Oh yeah,” you said, clapping your hand to your forehead, then dragging it down your face tiredly. “Sorry. Long night last night.”

“Yeah?” he asked, you nodded as you lit the morning cigarette for the two of you to share, like you did every morning. “Shitty customers or got off late?”

“Both,” you said, passing him the cigarette. “Like, ten people decided they needed their groceries five minutes before closing. On top of that, me and Teri were by ourselves again, so we didn’t get out until almost midnight.”

“I still say they’ve gotta be breaking the law by keeping you there that late,” Eddie said, his eyes darkening. “Isn’t there some rule against high schoolers working past 8 or something?”

He always worried when you had to work that late. People get jumped in parking lots all the time and was always paranoid that would happen to you.

“That only applies if it’s your first time through,” you chuckled, as Eddie passed the cigarette back to you. “Trust me, I checked. Soon to be 20-year old’s repeating their senior year for the third time don’t qualify.”

After passing the cigarette between you a few more times as you chatted about your morning, Eddie finished it and tossed the butt to the pavement. You both started walking up to the school.

Fortunately, the time Eddie gave you to wake up more before continuing the initial conversation had also given you time to think. When he brought it up again a few minutes later when you were almost inside, you were prepared.

“So…” Eddie began. “The box…”

“That’s right!” you said and looked over at him curiously. “What was in it anyway? It felt really heavy for such a small thing.”

Eddie skipped a few steps ahead of you and spun around on one foot so he was directly in your path and facing you. He held up his left hand as if showing off his rings. Your looked down and, sure enough, he had on the one you gave him on his pointer finger. It was square shaped with a cross in the center and a skull at each corner.

“Holy shit!” you exclaimed with well-acted excitement, grabbing his hand, and jerking him closer to get a better look, which made him stagger slightly. “Hey, isn’t this that ring you saw at the pawn shop a few months back???”

“I think so!” Eddie said, nodding rapidly.

One thing you both loved to do together on weekends was hit up as many thrift stores and pawnshops as you could looking for deals. When Eddie found this ring a few months back, the $30 price tag was a bit out of his reach. The disappointment in his eyes about broke your heart, so you went back the next day and bought it for him. You’d held onto it until now, trying to figure out how to give it to him.

“That’s so awesome!” you exclaimed.

You used this as an excuse to grab Eddie and wrap your arms around him in an excited hug. He eagerly returned the hug, spinning you around once and nearly running you both into a passing group of students.

“Who was it from?” you asked as he set you down and you two continued walking, now headed for your locker.

“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me,” he said. “There was no note, tag, or anything. So, I was wondering who gave it to you.”

“I didn’t recognize her,” you said, then shrugged. “I don’t have any classes with her, that much I know for sure.”

This part of the lie relied heavily on Eddie just accepting your poor memory without asking too many questions.

Everyone knew you could barely remember what you made yourself for lunch yesterday, much less the face of someone you didn’t know. You recognized people you went to classes with, even if you didn’t know their names, because you saw them in the same place every day. In general, it always took you a few weeks with any new person you met to fully integrate their face into your brain. So, you not recognizing someone you went to school with wasn’t uncommon.

Eddie knew this and you could see the disappointment in his face.

“Damnit,” he said and sighed, brushing a hand back through his hair. “I was afraid of that. I really wanted to thank whoever she was.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I’ll try to keep an eye out for her, but you know what the chances of me recognizing her are.”

You flashed him an apologetic smile and he nodded in confirmation as you reached your locker. The conversation switched to school things as you got your stuff situated, taking only the books you would need before lunch. With that done, now you walked Eddie to his locker and once he had his books, you both went to English, which you had together. Since the two of you sat next to each other, you noticed that Eddie used the time waiting for class to gawk at the ring and awe and wonder.

It made your heart dance seeing how happy it made Eddie. You had to bite your lip hard to keep yourself from grinning like a fool. That surely would’ve given you away right then and there.

Oddly enough though, he really didn’t talk about it much to anyone else. You’d catch him gazing at it fondly, but if anyone asked about it, he was tight lipped.

“It was a gift,” is all he would say.

As the days went by, Eddie didn’t mention it as often to you. When he did, it was still just to say he wished he could thank whoever got it for him because he loved it so much.

A couple weeks later, on the last day of school before Thanksgiving break, you proceeded with the next part of you plan.

Your fourth period class was World History. Eddie’s locker just so happened to between that classroom and the closest girl’s bathroom. It was easy to get a pass for the restroom since you rarely ever asked to leave class. On your way there, you briefly stopped at his locker. You took a letter sized envelope out of your inner jacket pocket and slipped it into the locker through the vents. Even after a quick stop at the restroom to back up your lie, you were back to class before the teacher could be suspicious.

The nerves you felt before giving him the ring were nothing compared to the nerves you felt now.

In that letter, you were finally confessing your love...

More or less.

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic

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valiantstarlights · 11 months

Text

[Dreamling Week Day 7: AUs or Crossovers] Of Surviving

This is a Dreamling Hunger Games AU oneshot. I finished writing it on May 27, but then I saw @mr-sadman 's prompt list for dreamling week 2023 and thought, 'Oooh 🖤 This is going to be perfect for Day 7!'

And here we are 2 weeks later. I hope you guys like it! 😊

CW: I mean...it's The Hunger Games. That's a warning all by itself.

"And why should we bet that you would win?" The host asks, fake teeth gleaming under the harsh stage lights. The same question, the same maddening smile directed at all the tributes.

"Because," Dream says, feeling bile rise up his throat, "I am better than the two who came before me."

The crowd gasps, but he could see a couple of audience members, the rough-looking shark-like types, nodding in consideration.

He hopes his siblings aren't watching.

"And why should we bet that you would win?"

"You shouldn't," the smiling boy from District 9 says. "But do it anyway for spite. Who knows, in the unlikely event that I win, you'll have me to thank for getting you at least a dozen new mansions."

The crowd laughs. Dream watches from backstage and immediately dismisses the boy as someone who would die an hour into the games.

The next time Dream sees the boy from District 9 is when he was aiming a javelin right at Dream. The first words the boy ever says to him is, "Duck!"

Dream ducks, and watches as the boy's javelin strikes true, right in the chest of District 2's career tribute.

"I thank you for saving my life, but I hope you are not expecting me to save you back."

The boy looks at him like he's a weird seven-legged fish. "Sure. You're welcome, District 4."

They part ways.

"Thought you said you wouldn't be saving my life," the boy from District 9 says, hand still holding Dream's as the two of them run away from the trap Dream has sprung, which caught a couple of other tributes who had been chasing him. Them both.

It was a coincidence that they were even in the same place at the same time.

Dream should really shake the boy's hand off.

"I am saving mine in the process of saving yours," he says. "Having an ally means surviving longer."

"An ally, huh? Well in that case, the name's Hob. Well, Robert Gadling, actually. I'm from District 9."

'I know,' Dream doesn't say. 'I thought you would be one of the first ones to die.'

"My name is Dream."

Dream wouldn't have volunteered this information, or really, anything about himself, but Hob has earned his trust by being an incredibly resourceful partner. He hasn't killed anyone else aside from that one career tribute, but he makes up for his lack of kill count by helping Dream (who grew up near the sea) survive in the arena the gamemakers have fashioned for them, which was part dense forest and part prairie.

"It suits you," Hob says, eyes on Dream's when he says it, his smile soft.

Dream looks away.

The faces of the day's dead have just finished being shown in the sky. Five more dead tributes. He imagines how their family back home would react to the news of their death. Would they be angry? Would they be disappointed?

Would they be relieved that there will be less mouths to feed from now on?

Dream wants to scream. He wants to think about anything else, so he turns to Hob, sitting beside him, face still turned upwards, contemplative. Dream wonders if they're thinking the same thing.

"Tell me about your family," Dream says.

Hob shrugs. "Not much to tell, really. We're poor like the rest, work hard like the rest, and try our best to live a life like the rest."

Dream sees his hands balled up into fists by his sides, knuckles white.

"What did Johanna mean, when she said you'll share the same fate as your siblings if you cross her path?"

It was early the next day. Hob is talking about a conversation between Dream and Johanna that took place in the morning of the previous day.

"I had six siblings," Dream says. They were gathering firewood now, for another trap that Dream is planning to spring. "Two of them were both reaped last year."

Hob stops in his tracks. "Oh," he says, sadness coloring his tone and setting Dream's teeth on edge. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Dream says simply. He clutches his bundle tighter in his arms so Hob wouldn't see how his hands have began to shake. "You did not pick their names at random."

"Their names were Destruction and Delirium," Dream tells him later that night in their little camp, hidden deep within the forest. "Sometimes I wish I had volunteered in my brother's place and managed to save my sister."

"Oh, love."

"Why did you call me 'love' yesterday?" Dream does not look at Hob when he asks this.

"Why do you think?"

He wonders if Hob is looking at him when he answered.

"You should eat more."

Dream ignores him and curls up more in his tattered sleeping bag. The trap succeeded, but the gamemakers fucked around with the weather and Dream had been soaked to the bone. And now it seems that he has caught a fever.

"Please," Hob begs, warm hand on Dream's freezing arm. He has cooked a meager amount of watery vegetable soup from the plants they had foraged. "For me."

"You will be better off without me," Dream says, because it's true. "There are only a few tributes left."

Hob sighs. "Look, if you don't eat by yourself, then I'm going to feed you like a baby bird, and then we'll both feel awkward."

Dream imagines Hob sipping the soup and keeping it in his mouth, then pressing his lips against Dream's and feeding him in this manner, just to make sure that Dream has something warm and healing in his stomach. He reddens even more despite his raging fever.

He still has some good sense remaining, however, so he sits up and shakily accepts the small bowl from Hob's hands, unable to look directly at him.

Dream tilts his face away. "We shouldn't."

"Why not?" Hob has not moved, body still close and face a breath away from Dream's. "What are you so afraid of?"

Dream pushes him away with both hands, but he does so gently and with a lingering touch to Hob's clothed chest that his hands were immediately engulfed by Hob's larger ones.

Dream is becoming a hedonist under the boy's influence. It is apparent when their fingers tangled together almost automatically.

"Because if we share a kiss," Dream says, "then we would cease to be vigilant for a few precious seconds, and that could mean the difference between life and death."

Hob says nothing for a moment, before he inhales deeply and nods. "You're right."

"I almost always am."

Hob rolls his eyes at him. "I mean that you're right in that we should always be vigilant. Not that when I kiss you, I would only want it to last for a few seconds."

'When,' Hob says. Not 'if.'

Dream tries not to obsess about his wording.

He fails.

"I apologize. You should not have seen that."

"What, you killing Johanna by drowning her in quicksand?"

"I did not mean to! It was just the easiest way to do it." Dream looks down at Hob coldly, willing his anger to overtake the fear that this would be the thing that would make Hob betray him.

"You're afraid of me now."

Hob shakes his head. He still has not looked at Dream in the eye again, but his tone is as kind as always. Dream wants to hold his hand and ask for reassurance that Hob does not hate him. He doesn't, because he has always been a coward.

"I'm afraid of dying," Hob says. "Totally not the same thing."

"Dream?"

Dream is pretending to be asleep. He has to. He dares not show Hob his tear-streaked cheeks.

Hob sighs.

"Okay, here's the plan." Hob's eyes are looking furtively behind them, body tense. They are almost at the end. There are only a couple more tributes left other than the two of them. "You run right, I run left, then we lead whoever is following us to your traps."

Dream looks at Hob's handsome, dirt-streaked face and wants more than anything to survive with him. But there can only be one victor, and he has already failed two of the people he loves.

He leans forward and kisses Hob for the first and probably the last time. Then, he stands up and runs as fast as his feet can carry him towards the traps, ignoring Hob's panicked shout behind him.

"I don't want to survive if you don't survive with me," Hob tells the stars when Dream is pretending to be asleep. "I can't. I wouldn't be able to."

"Who says you're dying?" Dream replies just after dawn, when Hob is sound asleep beside him, snoring softly. "You are not allowed to die under my watch, Hob Gadling."

"No! Dream!"

"I'm...I'm sorry," Dream says, voice soft and weak. There was way too much red surrounding him. Hob is losing his mind. "I love you. I'm sorry."

"You cheated." Hob's hands are shaking as he takes his jacket off and bunches it up, pressing it hard against the wound on the other boy's stomach. "You're supposed to be the one that survives!"

"I don't want to go back," Dream tells him, eyes turning glassy with unshed tears. "Not without you."

"Shit, you're losing too much blood."

"I would have liked to show you the place where I like to read in secret..."

"Gods, shut up, shut up, shut up--" Hob looks around frantically, trying to find something, anything, that could save Dream.

He is handed a knife by a bloodied, trembling hand, so pale it was almost white. "Here," Dream says. He points to an area under his own jaw. "Put the knife... Slash deep here. A little diagonally. Most effective..." His eyes were already blinking slower, movements growing sluggish.

"No," Hob says fiercely. The knife's handle is digging into his palm from how tight he's gripping it. "No, I'm not killing you. Fuck you for even--"

"Love you..." Dream's lips mouth at him, his striking blue eyes still looking at Hob's, as if he wants Hob's face to be the last thing he sees.

"No," Hob spits in denial. "Fuck this--"

Hob has always been a quick learner. His mother had always told him so. When his older brother was reaped six years ago and died within the hour of the games starting, Hob marched out of their house and immediately learned how to handle all the farming equipment from the older men, so his family could continue to eat.

He now places the knife Dream gave him against his own neck--

Dream gasps awake and clutches at the shape beside him desperately. Hob startles awake at the frantic touch, then pulls Dream towards him, holding him tight and steady, a fortress against a howling storm.

He murmurs soft words next to Dream's ear, one hand rubbing his back gently, while the other partially covers the large jagged scar on Dream's side. Dream presses his face closer to Hob's neck, his nose right where Hob's own scar is. It's small and looks insignificant compared to the one on Dream's body, but it proved more effective in getting the gamemakers to panic. They needed to have a victor, after all.

That year, they had two.

That had been ten years ago.

"We made it, my love," Hob says against his hair. It smells like the very sea that is only a short walk away from their home. Hob can hear the waves lapping peacefully at the shore. "We made it. It's all over now. We made it."

#dreamling hunger games AU #idk why clips from the hunger games movies keep popping up on my youtube feed #but we're taking it as a sign and rolling with it #hello my loves I come bearing pain 😊#dreamling #DreamlingWeek #DreamlingWeek2023 #the sandman #my writing #good job my thumbs #wahoo i managed to complete an entire week's worth of stories! 😭🙏 🎉🎉🎉

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melon-cream-enmu · 1 year

Text

Repost from peach-cream-yukio. If you’re a twst fan (or know people who are) reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Anonymous asked: MC GETTING STUCK IN A WALL AT NRC. WHO WILL TAKE ADVANTAGE FIRST AND OF WHICH HOLE?!?!?! MC WILL END WITH SO MUCH CUM OMG 😩😋🤤💓💓💓 YESSSS

WHICH HOLE? why not both☺️

Suppose some first year had a trick they wanted to show off but oopsies! Instead of their magic hitting their friend, it hits poor Mc just down the hall.

Where did they go? It’s not their problem! Mc will be fine probably!

Cut to Mc, torso lodged in a classroom wall and facing poor Riddle, who’s confused as all hell. They try to focus as Riddle lectures them on not being careful around magic (not wanting to interrupt to clarify that it wasn’t them) when they feel a hand graze over their backside. Their flinch of surprised goes unnoticed as Riddle walks out in a huff, saying he’ll be kind enough to go find you some help, and Mc hopes he’s far enough away that he doesnt hear the small cry from their lips.

The hand on their backside has quickly moved between their legs and has started stroking them. Our poor Mc’s toes can hardly touch the ground with where they’re stuck. Their bottoms are pulled down , underwear and all and something wet lands on their ass before fingers swipe it away and circle and prod at their hole. Mc’s face is warm with tears of frustration at not getting themself free, and when a warm, hard cock presses in, theres tears of pleasure too.

Mc’s so caught up in keeping quiet they don’t notice Riddle left the door open! Leona’s stopped in the doorway! He heard such small whimpers, he had to investigate, no one else had ears good enough to hear it. He spies little Mc, lip in a shaky pout between puffy breaths, hand braced on the wall theyre stuck in. He sees the smallest bit of rocking, back and forth, and he knows what’s up. He’s not stupid, but the class room is at the end of a hall, a dead end.

What classroom is on the other side? And who’s there, pleasuring his little herbivore? He doesn’t think on it long, soon he’s strutted himself before mc, and took the opportunity to shove his cock in their mouth when they let out a cry.

Mc’s hands pushed on his thighs but he wasn’t stopping now, not when Jack and Ruggie walked in not long after him.

A harsh shudder and a moan came out of mc and leona knew.

“Aw, did they just cum in you, mc? How’s that feel, huh? Someone you don’t know using you like a toy.” Mc’s tears got fatter as their legs twitched with every glob that escaped their hole.

Leonas ear perked up then. “Oh, listen to that boys, I think someone else is here to use this new toy.” Ruggie snickered at the squeal that left the stuck prefect, and watched as just the smallest sliver of what was stuck in the wall emerged before drawing back in, mc’ body thrusting with rhythmic whimpers.

Leona cums with a growl and turns his head to the presence at the door. He snaps the prefects mouth shut and plugs their nose with a sadistic grin as he watches them swallow.

“I don’t normally share, and certainly not with you, but I wanna see our poor herbivore cry some more...Malleus~”

Mc’s covered in cum and drool by the time the last one in the soon to be audience is done (and so full their tummy will hurt, if Floyd has anything to say about it~)

Anonymous asked: Twst stuck in a wall but with the staff? 🤔

Aahhh only doing two I’m sorry 🙇🏻‍♀️

Crowley is stumbling over himself when he sees. First he thinks some student has messed up one spell or another but then he recognizes the worn out heels of your shoes. He’s too quick to go over and offer aid. Your face twists at the weird feeling of the headmaster’s hands on your waist. He feigns helpfulness for a mere second before your bottoms are shimmied down and he’s slapping his dick against your hole after barely wetting it with his spit. Your hands fist and hit the wall as he thrusts in and out with little regard for your comfort.

Trein offers actual assistance but you keep squirming. Hips bumping back into his, swaying and rubbing against him. He roughly shoved your bottoms down and lands a smack to your ass, telling you to settle down. You only get more fidgety. Your legs keep adjusting to try and push yourself through the wall until his thumb circles your hole. If you won’t listen he might as well punish you while it’s convenient.

#cream wonderland #toasted sugar cream #cream afab #I feel like I’m forgetting a tag #cream writes

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strawberrykake · 2 years

Text

<3 Shiratorizawa boys with an energetic s/o <3

requested

[ reader x ] : ushijima. shirabu. goshiki. tendou.

ushijima wakatoshi.

The gap between your personalities is so huge

people would’ve never guessed you two were in a relationship

jaws dropping when they see the ever so energetic classmate jumping on the back of your tall burly bf and surprising him with a kiss

one would’ve guessed that the brooding figure would shrug you off his shoulders and pull a restraining order on the random person who jumped on him

but no

a soft smile appears on his face and he adjusts you comfortably on his back and starts a friendly conversation with you

this was normal in your relationship

and Ushijima loves it

he loves the liveliness you radiate

you added so much color in his life

because of the people he’s surrounded by,—people who always put him on a pedestal or people who treat him like a robot—he was grateful to have you

someone who treats him differently <3

shirabu kenjirou.

he thought you were annoying at first

you somehow appear next to him every single day

but he’d ignore you, or would give only small responses to your lengthy questions and comments: “yep.” “nope.” “probably.” “not sure.” “ask Tendou.”

that definitely annoyed you that’s for sure

but your energy never fades and he wonders if you ever get tired

like why are you bouncing around so much

and smiling so much like that

oh wait, your smile is kinda nice

no! don’t smile at the other guys! only smile at me, he thinks to himself as you crack jokes amongst his teammates

and that’s how he realizes he probably caught feelings

now you’re pulling at his cheeks playfully, trying to lift his frown as you tease him, “Oho, why is my baby down?”

the action is enough to make the usually-apathetic setter blush intensely

“jus miss you,” he mumbles

you knew that was one of his ways of asking for a hug, so you don’t waste a second to wrap your arms around him, giggling

his tense form softens your hold and he’s hugging you back

face seeking a warmth in your neck, despite just finishing an intense volleyball practice session, being all hot and sweaty

neither of you cared, though

goshiki tsutomu.

having someone energetic in his life is just what the poor boy needs, being surrounded by his senpais who are always harsh with him + excluding Tendou who he just finds weird

“Tsutomu!” you’d greet him with sparkly wide eyes

“Sup,” he’d say back, trying to act all cool and casual

but the twitch on the corner of his lips and the red tint on his ears expose himself

you let out a chuckle, and you ruffle up his smooth bowlcut hair which fall perfectly back into place

it makes him pout

you forget his arms are insanely strong due to being active in sports and he pulls you into a hug

during games, he’d look forward to your cheers for him and only him

“Go ‘Tomu!” he’d hear and pride swells in his chest, because other people can probably hear you due to your loud cheers

yes, that really pretty student screaming in the audience is his s/o, ladies and gentlemen

all his skills seem to improve, wanting to give you a reason to cheer more for him

tendou satoori.

finds you fascinating

like how is a human so full of life

he wishes he could peer into your eyes to see how the world works in your point of view

not a dull day goes by with you around

he opens his arms when he hears fast foosteps and a familiar voice calling out his name “Satoriiiii”

and there you were jumping into his arms like a sloth to a tree

“how was your day, sweetcheeks?” he asks you after placing a quick kiss on your lips.

and you start rambling about the events that you’d just gone through prior to meeting him

all the while, he finds a place to sit with you in his lap, listening to you intently and admiring your features at the same time

after a few minutes, you realize how much you’ve been talking and your voice falters and mutter an apology

but he shakes it off, reminding you how much he loves it when you lose yourself in conversation with him

it makes him feel honored to be the one you share all your troubles and your joys with, plus he finds it really cute when you’re like this

when you hear him call you “cute”, you blush and playfully punch his shoulder

“Stop it, satori,” you say, despite loving it, and he knows you do, a smirk appearing on his face.

“Tell me about your day, babe,” you ask, changing the subject to stop his strong gaze on you.

He hums, closing his eyes. “Well…” he starts, before spilling his own words about the day he went through.

tags: @dai-tsukki-desu @crystal-lilac @remajalabill @ashisbored89 @yuubabe @luvrzumi

#🥪—requests #🍓—short hcs #tsutomu is actually a pup and i love him #sorry i couldnt fit everyone from shiratori in this #maybe part 2 with kawanishi semi and reon someday #ushijima x reader #shirabu x reader #goshiki x reader #tendou x reader #shiratorizawa x reader

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 1 year

Note

Hello! Hope you don't mind the random ask 🥺 You said after the newest episode that Mushitarou is one of your favorite BSD characters; could you talk a little about your thoughts on him/why you love him/his arc? He's one of my favorites too, and it makes me so so sad how underrated he is, because imo he's one of the most well-written and tragic characters in the entire series, despite how little screentime (pagetime?) he gets :' ) I wish more people would talk about him. Really hope that changes after the next episode 💚

I honestly almost screamed when I got this ask YES I CAN TALK ABOUT MUSHITARO. I CAN TALK ABOUT HIM ALL DAY.

Ok well first of all he is the poor little meow meow. Pathetic scrunkly man. I'm sorry but you can't deny that it's true. Even in-universe, it's like he's the BSD world's chew toy. He keeps getting kidnapped by different organizations with like. No breathing room in between. Give him a BREAK. Funnily enough, I enjoy and usually like to poke fun at these kinds of characters, but they're not typically my favourites. Mushitaro is, by far, an exception to my usual favourite character types.

Second, I am a lover of bittersweet tragic storylines. Yeah. Honestly, the way the storyline built to the slow reveal - I knew immediately after Poe mentioned the water droplets that they were his tears, and I was starting to suspect what was really going on, but the way it was unraveled was so, so painful and beautifully done. Even knowing it was coming today when I watched the episode, it still hurt.

Thirdly, Mushitaro's circumstances raise some intriguing questions we still don't have answered. He was captured by the Seventh Agency and made to work for them with his ability - he considers them a worse alternative to Dostoevsky and refers to them as tyrants. (We also know of another shadowy organization that takes on ability users with useful skills for nefarious purposes, V. V also somehow managed to not be discovered by either the government or Ranpo in 13 years. I'm not saying there's a connection there but... but... there might be. 👀) Anyways, point is, there's stuff goin' on there. And I wanna know. (Also I like the motivation parallels with Ango very much.)

But most of all, I fully agree with you - he is very well-written. What I love most about his character is actually the way his narrative showcases what I believe to be some of the series' character writing's biggest strengths - to excellent (and heartbreaking) effect.

Characters are often revealed to be quite different than what their initial introductions would suggest. Later revelations serve to recontextualize earlier character cues - these early cues are often misleading but not outright lies.

To be clear, this isn't a hard or particularly unique thing in character writing - in fact, this is... kind of a minimum requirement. Your audience should be able to go back after the fact and notice new things about characters that you only get on re-read. But I find BSD is interesting for this because these initial impressions don't frequently tell you what these characters actually value - the "establishing moments" are often incredibly misleading. Mushitaro is an excellent example of this.

The best part of the perfect murder arc is the way it slowly unravels piece by piece - and as it unravels, more and more, we get to see the real Mushitaro. He starts off with these terrifying facial expressions, bragging and boasting about how he is the "detective killer" and how none stand in his way, cackling like a shallow cartoon villain. There's not much there to suggest a deeper character. Then there's the first flash to Yokomizo's murder, and Mushitaro appears to revel in it and the idea that he can't be caught. Another flashback shows him making these arrogant demands of a literal terrorist, like all his tableware being silver and porcelain and having access to a library of occult books for his study. Ok dude. This all paints the picture of a selfish individual, primarily concerned with expensive things and money and image - all things that perfectly fit Ranpo's initial conjecture as to the kind of person behind the Kindaichi murder. And just like Ranpo later says, it's a little too perfect.

The reveal builds slowly but surely, and Mushitaro's built-up image as a dramatic, remorseless murderer crumbles. Because he didn't kill out of hatred at all. He killed Yokomizo because Yokomizo asked him to do so. Because this, and the legacy of a mystery that transcended fiction into reality, was his only friend's dying wish. It was enough for Mushitaro to delay his escape just to fulfill it - what Ranpo refers to as a kind of willing self-destruction.

What Mushitaro ultimately values then is honouring the wishes of those he cares about and repaying those he owes. He will take the secret of Yokomizo's ultimate mystery to his grave. He used what he likely thought were his last moments alive to grab the transceiver and warn Ranpo about the danger the Agency was in. He only decided to trust Ango after Ango admitted his use of the Seventh Agency was to honour Oda's memory and wishes.

So, going back and re-reading his intro again, it becomes more clear that he was suffering from a kind of cognitive dissonance. "But wasn't he just playing the role he was supposed to?" No. He wasn't. The first flashback to Yokomizo's murder is much more violent and ends with Mushitaro cackling and going into a full villain monologue when there is no one else around but him. There's no one to perform this role for - except Mushitaro himself.

Both the killing and the ensuing grief stemmed from the exact same source - Mushitaro loved his friend deeply. But there is, I believe, no small amount of bitterness too, for the way they argued frequently, and the way his friend asked this of him. It's practically irreconcilable in his mind, and so Mushitaro leans into his role as the evil perpetrator who hated Yokomizo to such a degree that I honestly think he started to believe it - Mushitaro, with two narratives in his mind running parallel to each other that are fundamentally conflicting, tried to make a monster of himself. Insisted on being the monster, at least until Ranpo made it impossible for him to deny the true motive behind his actions - protecting his friend's last wish.

Fittingly for the climactic reveal of a mystery storyline that blurs fiction and reality, Mushitaro's real-life grief was his perfect fictional role's undoing.

Is he boastful? Arrogant? A bit of a coward? Absolutely. But Mushitaro is no monstrous villain - he is a man unable to confront his grief over his friend's death, and who, ultimately, doesn't intend any real harm.

Because other than Yokomizo, revealed as an agreed upon assisted suicide - Mushitaro never murdered anyone.

2. Characters are not cured of their pain and trauma. They continue to struggle with it during their development and it actively impacts the way they view and interact with the world around them.

Mushitaro's story is heavily themed around grief and his consistent denial of it's effects on him. At first, he denies by embodying the role Yokomizo wanted him to play - it seems to the point where he legitimately started to lose it. He's slipping when we first meet him. In a weird way, for as much as Ranpo tore his perfect crime apart... I feel like he also saved him, in a sense. The dissonance he was experiencing likely only would've gotten worse if he had not been forced to speak the truth aloud.

After that point... the denial focuses solely on the idea that Mushitaro doesn't miss Yokomizo at all. That he's doing just fine and Yokomizo should be jealous (he's far from fine; he doesn't even see a point in going outside anymore now that he won't be able to see his friend) and that he hated him (he doesn't. he never did. but he has to. he can't deal with it.).

Another thing I really like about his arc is that Mushitaro's grief also clearly stems from the entire thing being traumatic for him - but neither Yokomizo nor Mushitaro are demonized or victimized for this; rather the situation is just shown as it is. It's nice, that the story allows the reader/viewer to draw their own judgements. Both had their reasons for their actions - Yokomizo was already dying and wanted to go out in a way that was meaningful to him, while Mushitaro chose to fulfill this wish in spite of the cost to him. They both mutually self-destructed, in a way.

The narrative doesn't frame either as the villain. It doesn't fully frame either in victimhood either. It's a tragedy all the same.

Mushitaro continues to see and hear Yokomizo wherever he goes, not because he can't get rid of him... but because he never wanted him to be gone in the first place. Stabbing me would hurt less I think. :/

3. Characters often grow and change before they consciously realize it or have any sort of "epiphany".

This ties in a lot with the ongoing theme of uncertainty, and I above all really like this aspect of the series. BSD has characters grow and change and try to be better, do better by themselves and others... without being sure of the outcome. Sometimes before they're ready to consciously admit a change is necessary. There are few epiphanies. The characters are forced to slog through hardship and only then suddenly realize how far they've come - for better or for worse.

Mushitaro does change, even in the short span of time he is a focus character. I love the first little signs of it too - Mushitaro, who doesn't even like mystery novels, uses a trick Yokomizo told him about to help himself, Atsushi and Kyouka escape. Look at him :')

Afterwards, he starts to wonder if he can see Yokomizo whenever he enters a locked room - as in, if connecting to the memory of his friend through what he loved in life will mean that he keeps that memory alive.

And as annoyed as he is with Poe's attempts to get him to write a mystery... a part of him is happy to be around people that he could start to consider his friends. Enough that the Yokomizo he hallucinates wonders if maybe he doesn't need him there anymore. And finally Mushitaro bursts.

But this is actually good. He's finally past that denial phase, the part that had him talking about hate when really he missed him all along. Thing is, he'd already been developing and changing by this point, in that he needed the growth to come to terms with this truth, and it was not the truth that drove the growth.

In a sense, Mushitaro working through his grief and uncertainty led him to a brighter outcome, one where he has more friends and can start anew. He lost the closest person in his life. But his arc continuously asserts that in spite of the fact that he will always miss his friend, Mushitaro himself is still alive. And he should live that life - both moving forward and keeping the memory of his friend with him.

Odasaku believed that writing a novel was to write people. Poe was so insistent on getting him to write because it's a way of seeing the people we want to see anytime we want.

What a beautiful character arc, that began with fiction as an escape from real-life pain, and concluded with fiction as a means to work through it and with it instead.

Plus he's just such a funky little dude.

I. Love. Mushitaro.

#also mushitaro mentions his late father a few times when talking to ranpo - it seems his dad told him to be kind to strangers #and perhaps enjoyed deductions?#idk i'm curious as to what kind of dynamic mushitaro had with his father #since his ability is so inherently sneaky and his father sounds like an honest man #anyways. i love him so much. i want good things for him.#bsd #bsd meta #bsd mushitaro #thanks for the ask!#this is so long holy shit #no wip wednesday take this meta i spent four hours on instead #hmm. sskk 'i only have so long to live due to illness' parallels #rimlaine 'i refuse to rejoin the world because the only person i care for is no longer out there' parallels #or maybe skk 'you never take my suggestions'/constant bickering and death threats parallels #and for all of the above: 'i hate him' <- actually doesn't #storyrambles #<- i really did.#bsd spoilers #bsd season 4

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daydreamgoddess14 · 10 months

Text

Landslide pt. 2

MASTERLIST here

Chapter 1 here

Summary: Jason approaches a singer/songwriter about a request for Ted Lasso Season 3.

Jason Sudeikis/Reader Insert (OFC, no use of y,n/l,n)

Rating: General for now... we'll see how it goes 🤭

Disclaimer: I absolutely own none of these songs, I also don’t want to diminish Sam Ryder’s contribution in creating Fought and Lost. This is all completely fictional. I also know nothing about the music industry so this is drowning in artistic license!

Playlist Link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1crFZfdqL1fspNXb80u5sK?si=e90f5f8f357b4647

It leans very Swift heavy but also has songs that I feel fit the main character and her style. I've never created a playlist for a fic before but it seemed appropriate given the main character's profession.

Songs used in Chapter 2:

Lover of the Light - Mumford and Sons (https://open.spotify.com/track/2rjOBgZ6vmRhzf4AbQbbvZ?si=3cdfe7ca63294533)

I Will Wait - Mumford and Sons (cover by Matt Johnson & Amber Leigh Irish: https://open.spotify.com/track/6pZ37H5lrW2v26D9Sbx6Yo?si=0fb2b5b84b0a4c92)

Chapter 2

The blue carpet was packed full of people, you weren't entirely sure where you needed to go but followed the other guests towards the doors of the auditorium, it was one of those situations where your fame came in useful, crowds parted and support staff were always happy to make sure you were going in the right direction.

"Why do you always look like a deer in the headlights at these things? You need a better poker face." A voice chastised behind you. You whipped round to see Marcus and Carey. Insanely grateful for familiar faces you hugged them both happily, over the moon to see them.

"I fucking hate these things. I always feel like an imposter."

"You sold out an arena tour in a day, what the hell are you on about?!" Carey laughed. You shrugged,

"It could all come crashing down, you never know!"

"Alright doom and gloom, here the kids wanted you to see this." Marcus handed you his phone so you could see the picture of their kids dressed up as Spiderman and Thor, wielding a ukulele and a keytar.

"Ohhhh!" You shriek, bubbling with laughter. "They are the cutest! Clearly they take after Carey." Between the two of you, Marcus paused to wave further up the carpet, your laughter had caught the attention of some photographers. You looked over to see who he was greeting and locked eyes with the man of the hour, Jason. You managed to raise a shy smile which he returned. It felt like an eternity but was probably only about 5 seconds before you were back talking to Carey as if nothing had happened. Something had definitely happened though, your skin felt tingly, you could feel the blood in your veins heating up, and your legs felt like jelly. It was like meeting at the studio again except instead of poor Tom being the gooseberry, half of Los Angeles were.

"We're doing a little set tonight." Marcus explained.

"Oh nice, I haven't heard you guys for ages." You brought yourself back down to earth.

"You could," he cooked his head with a wink, "y'know… join us?"

"No way, I'm not remotely prepared, I haven't sang live for weeks. I don't even remember half the words to your stuff!"

"Thanks mate."

"You know what I mean, It's too much pressure."

"As opposed to every other time you perform. Go onnn! It'll be fun!"

"For who?!" You try to counter, but he's winning you over. It really had been quite a few weeks since you'd last performed to an audience and you were feeling the pull. There was also that intoxicating way Jason had looked at you - the urge to do something unexpected and surprise him was pretty strong. "OK, say I said yes, who would we be pissing off - apart from my entire management team?"

"Nah, no one. No one even needs to know, we'll just tell the floor manager to get an extra mic set up and everyone else will be none the wiser. It'll be a good surprise for Tom and Jason to hear you properly live with a band." Yeah… you couldn't argue with that.

"OK, OK, let's do it." He whooped and the three of you started moving a little quicker to the doors. You passed by a handful of the cast still having photos taken, a couple of them recognised you and a buzz went up from the photography area. You hesitated before stopping for some pictures, it was a premiere after all and you had dressed up for it in a dress which was the visual representation of exuding confidence. Confidence which you were absolutely winging at the moment in an ultimate ‘fake it til you make it’ strategy.

"How come you're here tonight?" One of the photographers shouted, “What do you think of your ex’s new girl?”

"Just a fan of the show." You smiled and posed, ignoring the second question. Once inside, Carey waved you off with a grin while you went backstage with Marcus.

~~~~~~~

"So we're doing the theme song - you don't have to do that - then in between the two episodes we're doing 2 or 3 songs while everyone has a break, then I think we'll do one after the screening as well. Happy with that?" You nod, "I'll come back to watch the first episode so you come back with me just before that ends. I'll go out as planned, introduce you and you can join us. Bit of backing, bit of melody. It doesn't matter if you really have forgotten all the words." You thank him gratefully. Back with Carey, you cheer for Marcus as he performs the theme song. At the other end of the same row, you can't help but steal a glance at Jason. He looked across to you just as your attention was drawn back to the stage. You managed to sneak out just before the end of the episode to wait for Marcus to introduce you. As expected, with only a few people knowing that you were there and no one at all expecting you to join the band on stage, the screening audience went crazy when you were introduced.

"Hey everyone, thanks for letting me crash the party. Hope you're playing something I remember, Marmar." You tease lightly. He puts a hand to his heart,

"Some of you may have seen us in the early 2010s on tour with my good friend here. You might remember that she used to join us for a banging version of Lover of the Light?" He looked to you for confirmation that you remembered enough to get by, and then you brought the fucking house down. With the first couple of songs under your belt, you were much more relaxed watching the second episode. It had been such a rush performing live on a total whim, it had been years since you'd done something so reckless and unpredictable regarding your music. Your phone was already blowing up in your bag with Twitter notifications - your management team would have a field day again, you still weren't exactly in the good books. Marcus had saved your favourite of his songs for last - I Will Wait. Similarly to Lover of the Light, the pair of you used to do a storming version together many, many years ago and you loved it so much that you'd recorded an acoustic version for one of your albums and you had been known to wheel it out during live shows as well. It wasn't until you were back up on the stage though that Marcus pretty much reduced his own role to backing singer and had gently nudged you to front the band. It was a damn good job you'd known them all for the better part of 15 years. Your unrehearsed, pared down version was a winner. You kept your eyes in the general direction of Carey and didn't let them stray to the opposite end of the row until the very end when you couldn't resist stealing a look at Jason any longer. He looked happy - fortunately - really happy, and you could feel your stomach tighten at the vaguely familiar notion of genuine attraction to someone. With the impromptu mini gig over, you had a quick 5 minutes with the band before heading off with the intention of finding a bar and a very alcoholic drink prior to catching up with Jason and Tom. Dutch courage was very much on the agenda. You ordered a whiskey and watched from the bar as the cast and creative team started making their way in, stopping every few seconds to be welcomed and congratulated by guests, media and family. You'd gotten talking to a couple of the writers who'd recognised you.

"I was at your last gig in New York, it was so much fun!"

"I love shows in New York," You grinned, "I get to sleep in my own bed for a change!"

"Ugh hotel beds are a menace. I either sleep like the dead or not at all."

"Tell me about it, buses are the worst though - be so glad you don't have to sleep on a bus! I did a week of shows in the UK last year and we were so tight on time that I'd finish a gig, go to sleep on the bus and wake up in a new city. I don't even think we bothered with hotel rooms, just drove through the night." You grimaced. Your back still hadn't forgiven you for that, and your tour manager was under strict instructions to avoid that debacle for future shows.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt, congrats guys!" Jason reached in to say hello to his writing team first.

"You too boss! Have you guys met?" They gestured to you, "I had no idea Marcus was going to bring her, did you?"

"I did know. Thanks for coming." Jason finally turned to you with a smile that made you forget your own name.

"Thanks for the invite. And sorry for the surprise set. It was Marcus's idea." You looked up while the writers filtered away to see other people, leaving the two of you alone. You took a long drink, buying you time to compose yourself because holy shit he looked so good. You wondered if it would be better to hold the meeting at separate ends of the room and communicate via smoke signals to save your blushes.

"Oh no, I loved it! Instant validation for the request I sent to Tom and Marcus, as if hearing you in the studio wasn't enough. You sounded amazing." You wave the compliment away,

"I'm way under rehearsed, I'm still under strict instructions to lay low for a while so I haven't been in front of a big audience for ages."

"It didn't show, really, you were great. Better than Marcus."

"Stop, he'll never forgive me!" You nudged him, laughing.

"Can we sit?" You nod and his hand brushes the small of your back, guiding you to a booth. It’s warm through the thin fabric of your dress and you could curse when your treacherous body shivers in response.

"Congrats on tonight, it looks like it's been a huge success."

"Ahh we'll see, it's a long way to go till the end of May. How's your week been?"

"Pretty good thanks, a few meetings. Plenty of writing."

"Anything you'd like to share?" He asked curiously.

"Not just yet,” you tease lightly, “give it another day or so and maybe. Also it might be wildly different to what Tom's expecting so I don't want to get in trouble."

“You don’t strike me as a troublemaker.”

“I’m on my best behaviour. Unfortunately. One more bad headline and-” you draw your finger across your throat.

“No way? Those headlines are not your fault - you defended yourself.”

“Hmm but there are a lot of people out there who don’t believe that I’m defending myself. They believe that I’m the problem.” He looks at your hand resting on the table near his and you think he’s about to take it, but he moves his own away at the last second. “So… troublemaker, that’s me.” You smile ruefully.

“Well I think I’ll reserve judgment.” He does move his hand then, but not to take yours, instead it goes around you to rest on your hip furthest from him, the action sliding you across the seat a few inches closer to him. He holds your gaze, an unspoken request for permission/forgiveness. You can’t help but feel a little unsure, automatically defensive. You’d spent three years being belittled, gaslit, shamed and manipulated in every aspect of your personal life, and now you were trying to recover from that whilst simultaneously trying to prove that those things were really happening to you and that you’re not a cold, calculating and manipulative bitch. You had no idea who you could really trust, who was supporting you or who was in the pocket of your ex. It was draining trying to mentally vet every reaction, conversation and person before letting your guard down. Something in his warm eyes lets you think you can trust him though, so you lean into that and into his hand just a little. Your eyes flash down to his mouth and back again and you hope you were quick enough that he didn't notice because you hadn't meant to do it. Well, not exactly. Your time alone is cut short though when Tom comes over with more drinks.

"So that was unexpected." He said, handing you a glass. "Brilliant, but unexpected." Jason moves his hand from behind you to take his drink from Tom.

"Told you."

"Hush, you. Thank you, Tom. I caved to peer pressure. Marcus bullied me into it."

"I should get him a drink then." You unlock your phone and slide it across the table, the notes app open. As it passes him, Jason tries to sneak a look but Tom grabs up the phone and reads. "Keep going, you're nearly there." He advises firmly. "Though I want to hear it, I'm in meetings all day tomorrow but record a quick voice note, give me an idea of pace and melody and I’ll think on it."

"Can you send it to me too?" Jason asked.

"Nope." You reply with a smirk, for a moment he looks confused. "I don't have your number. But also, I’m not about to send you a half arsed voice note just yet." You shrug. He's about to reply when a few people start milling around looking like they need him. He excuses himself and you and Tom compare some notes on the start you’ve made to the song. He next finds you back at the same table catching up with Carey.

“-I’m just saying I would pay good money to see you recreate that Tom Holland Lip Sync Battle rain dance!” Carey giggled.

“Oh god, I’d fall over and break something! Besides, I’m not built for dancing - especially not dirty rain dancing!” You reply gleefully, the giggles getting the better of you both.

“Who’s doing dirty rain dancing?” Jason grins, handing both of you a drink, “Saw you both from the bar.”

“Ahh I’ll never convince her. Maybe Marcus will do it instead.” She takes a sip of her drink, “I’m going to be so hungover on the school run tomorrow.”

“Same.” he agrees.

“I’ll come with you, I want to see the kiddos and I’ll bring the biggest coffees I can find.”

“Thanks, love. If I’m already going to be hungover I might as well finish this drink as well! Thanks Jason, and congratulations!” As the party slows and people drift off, including Tom, you talk Carey into staying for another drink, not quite willing to leave Jason’s company just yet. He’s been sitting next to you again, not so close that it would make Carey uncomfortable or would seem rude. Close enough that when he talks with his hands they brush against your arm or hand. When they’re finally still and he puts them on the seat between you both, his fingertips can catch against yours or (very bravely) ghost over the hem of your dress. Meanwhile, you’re trying to look casual, trying to act unruffled but there’s a marching band inside your body banging your heart like a bloody big drum and it might as well be bursting out of your chest like a cartoon. When Carey gets up to track down Marcus so you can share an Uber with them, he turns on the seat to face you.

“Can I give you my number?” He asks, watching your eyes widen in surprise. “For the voice note you're going to send me,” he teases.

“I’m not sending you the bloody song over WhatsApp. Tom can show you whatever he chooses, but you’ll get nothing from me until I say so.”

“Nothing at all huh?” He moves closer on the seat. You smile shyly,

“I’d strongly advise against whatever it is you think you’d like to do right now.”

“There’s a lot that I’d like to do, you might need to be more specific?” You shake your head in exasperation.

“My life is a fucking mess.”

“So is mine.”

“So you wouldn’t want to make it worse.”

“I really think I might actually want to. Might make it better.”

“The paps are-”

“Intense, rude, intrusive?”

“My ex-”

“Is a dick.”

“Can we be serious for one minute? One minute. I don’t want you to drag you into this shitshow, my name is mud everywhere at the moment - I might as well be public enemy number one. No matter how… brief this might end up being, it’s still not fair on you, or your family, that you get associated with it all.”

“I don’t need to be, we don’t have to broadcast it.”

“I’m pretty sure they know my diary better than I do.” You counter, then pause, taking in the hat, the custom made tracksuit, the dimples. “But… I can avoid them most of the time. I try to… protect myself.”

“We could try that? Because I’d really like to kiss you before Carey gets back and you have to leave.” You can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth at that. The hint of a smile is enough for him to lean in and press a soft kiss to your lips making you hum happily. “Wanna come to a basketball game?”

“And sit about 10 seats away from you pretending I’m not checking you out?”

“Amazing coincidence, that’s exactly what I’d be doing too.”

“I’d love to. Especially the checking you out part.” You grin. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Marcus and Carey coming back for you. “Looks like my time is up.” He slips his phone out of his pocket and opens the screen before handing it to you to add your number.

~~~~~~~~

Over the next couple of days, the tabloids seemed to wake up to your arrival in L.A, though they did at least leave you alone and keep their distance. A handful of pictures cropped up on Twitter and Instagram - you holding hands with one of Marcus and Carey’s kids, giving them a piggyback after school, some of you from the Ted Lasso premiere and one of you collecting takeout the evening after the premiere. You knew there would be photographers at the basketball game you were attending so you’d planned to go with an old friend. Despite Jason being the one to ask you to go, you knew that you’d be unlikely to even be able to say more than hello to him with so many eyes around. You sat one row back from the courtside and about 10-15 seats further along the row than Jason sat with his castmates and son. He’d sent you a message before you’d even pulled up at your apartment after the premiere, you’d replied of course and the message pingpong had been pretty regular in the run up to the game. He’d seen you arrive, he’d been loitering at the edge of the court talking while the seats began to fill up. You’d smiled and held your beer up in greeting.

You look great, I’m glad you came

Thanks, you too. This doesn’t count as a first date though.

That’s fair, I’ve got to get O home after this, but we could hang out later in the week?

Sounds good, enjoy the game

After the game, someone had pushed a ball into his hands while people were milling around the court. He’d been laughing and joking with Toheeb and Kola and you’d been perfectly happy just watching him have a good time. He took his cap off and turned it around on his head so he could better line up his shot. You had been halfway through a conversation but god fucking damn your jaw near hit the floor when he bounced a little and the ball had travelled near half the length of the court and straight into the basket. Someone had been filming it and Kola had excitedly told him to tell the camera that it had been one take. By this point, you’d long given up on talking with your friend and she watched in amusement while your words had trailed off. She followed your gaze to the scenes on the court.

“That’s emmm… that’s pretty hot.”

“I’m not usually a men doing sports type of person. In that it normally doesn’t affect me in any kind of way.”

“How you feeling now?”

“Pretty fucking affected. Jesus.” You reached for your phone while the image and the thoughts were still fresh in your mind - though there was no doubt that the visual would be there for a very long time to come.

That was insane. I truly hope you know how hot that was because I… I’m speechless.

With the rest of the court clearing out, you took your empty beer glasses and took one last look at Jason. He spotted you so you gave a quick glance around for potential photographers before very obviously fanning yourself with your hand. He laughed and winked.

~~~~~~~~~

#jason sudeikis #jason sudeikis rpf #jason sudeikis fanfic #jason sudeikis imagine #jason sudeikis x reader

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conscbgb · 6 months

Text

I came across this video where Taeyong was explaining the inspiration behind the song "Love is a Beauty" and what he said left me with a deep sadness...for him...for all of them because I think the situation is more or less the same for them all...

We know how the k-pop industry works (and we know it sucks) but listen to a grown up, talented, hard working, brilliant, caring man of 28 years old saying that he "actually don't know about love" should make you think...especially their fans...what he, all 9 of them, give up in the name of their dream are 2 of the most important things that we are gifted in life : Love & Freedom.

And it's something that when you are 17 yo you can endure, you tell yourself "It's ok! I wanna become this or that...it's a big sacrifice but it's my dream"...when you are 28 you endure it anyway but...it's different...

The Love they get from their families, real friends, band mates,working team, fans is a totally different thing from the love you get from that 1 right person for you, that one who loves the REAL you, the natural and "imperfect" YOU, who support you anyway, your "Ride or Die" together, not because you are a worldwide famous singer/artist and the allure that comes with it!

Part of the reason they are forced to put Love in stand-by is because of the fans (the toxic/psycho ones obv) because God forbid if the news of one of them dating gets out! All the hate they receive...the company who rush to explain that the news is not true while going to repremend that poor one who was "caught" goin' out 🙈 and all of this for what?? They are grown men, they should be able to live their lives and that little free time they have in the best possible way for them!

But it doesn't work that way...their freedom is put on hold too! And not only because the company exploit them and their talent as much as they can, making them work literally 24/7 365 days a year especially during the promoting season, they can't use their freedom in absolute private matters too... like getting a tattoo! They can't get a tattoo without fans "consent": it's literally their skin!! What do you mean they should ask fans before do it?? Fu€k it!! I would tattoo my whole body like Michael Scofield just to piss those "fans" off 🤣

They can't smoke...thank God they "limit" themselves with smoke because with all the pressure the company/audience/themselves put upon their beings I would be high all the time just to get throught it...

The way they can't almost interact with women in front of cameras (or in general because they are literally haunted from stalkers) it's insane in my opinion and the company should take action more often to protect them! And it's equally shocking the fact they can't interact the way they really want between them (band mates) because if one of them look or talk in a certain way to the one he is not "shipped" with from fans ➡️ hate

This album and tour mean a lot to them and to us because we know what is gonna happen starting from next year...so please: let the guys enjoy this experience to the fullest! Support them! Let them Live! RESPECT THEM! They deserve it 🙏😉

Video credit @neocrushtech on TT

#lee taeyong #taeyong nct #nct 127 #yuta nakamoto #mark lee #nct jungwoo #doyoung nct #moon taeil #haechan #johnny suh #nct jaehyun #kpop

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gffa · 2 years

Note

Did the Senate ever address the fact that the use of clones to fight in a war that they were bred for against their will, was in violation of the Republic's anti slavery laws or is that what Bail was referring to, that the Senate wouldn't approve the use clones?

No, the Senate never addresses the clones as slaves, which I think is because they can't view them that way, because the narrative doesn't view them that way. The narrative of Star Wars views the clones as having been drafted into the war more than as slaves, that's why no narratively reliable character really ever frames them as such, that it's always about how they were drafted for the war. Take the episode "Shattered" for example, when Ahsoka and Rex are talking about the war

REX: “Well, I've known no other way. Gives us clones all a mixed feeling about the war. Many people wish it never happened. But without it, we clones wouldn't exist.” Their reactions are about the war being the reason for their existence, so they’re kind of glad for it, there’s nothing about them being slaves here, despite that it would have been easy to put it in there, given they were addressing their conflicted feelings. Or the episode with Cut Lawquane, where Rex explicitly frames him as a deserter: CUT: “My name is Lawquane. Cut Lawquane. And I'm just a simple farmer." REX: “You're a deserter.” Or their conversation about their choices: CUT: “I like to think I'm merely exercising my freedom to choose. To choose not to kill for a living.” REX: “That is not your choice to make. You swore an oath to the Republic. You have a duty." CUT: “I have a duty. You're right. But it's to my family. Does that count, or do you still plan to turn me in?”

REX: “So what was it?” CUT: “What made me decide to leave the corps? Shortly after the Battle of Geonosis, our troop transport got caught between two Separatist gunships. They fired on us with everything they had. We crashed. Most of us were either dead or severely injured. So when they started working their way through the wounded, killing us off, I knew there was no hope. I ran. It still haunts me.” REX: “I'm sorry.” CUT: “It's the day I felt my life didn't have any meaning. Everyone I cared about, my team, was gone. I was just another expendable clone waiting for my turn to be slaughtered in a war that made no sense to me. Can you understand that, Rex?” Or this conversation: CUT: “Come on, Rex, admit it. You've thought about what your life could look like if you were to also leave the army, choose the life you want.” REX: “What if I am choosing the life I want? What if I'm staying in the army because it's meaningful to me?” Later, at the end of the episode: REX: “You're still a deserter, Cut, but you're certainly not a coward.” Or look at Padme’s speech to the Senate about how “buying more clones is making us poor ):” doesn’t address that they’re slaves and you can’t tell me that Padme Amidala wouldn’t bring it up, if the narrative meant for that to be the takeaway. These instances would have been perfect places to insert mentions of the clones as slaves, but the narrative never does with any character that is acting in good faith, because the narrative sees them as drafted into military service, so none of the characters around them or the characters themselves can react to the idea that they’re slaves. The Jedi can’t react to them as slaves. Bail and Padme can’t react to them as slaves, the clones themselves can’t react to them as slaves, because the story didn’t see it that way. And it’s not a fair criticism to inject it into the story when the characters are barred from reacting to it. Now, let’s be clear, that’s not to say the clones’ situation is totally okay then, because it’s not and we can criticize the writing on a Doylist level and I’m absolutely on the hill that the clones should not have been written this way, I’ve planted my flag firmly on it, because it is slavery when we the audience look at it and it’s horrific, which I think was meant to be at least sad, but given that even characters like Bail and Padme and the Jedi don’t ever bring it up, characters who are the good people and heroes of the story, means that it’s just not part of what the story was trying to tell. It’s a failure of the writing, not a failure of the characters.

#clones #meta #slavery mention

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