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#i don't even know what the plot would be. like i've said before my brain is all vibes no words. i hate it here
ineffable-suffering · 7 months
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Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator
Part 1: The Story of Job
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I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.
I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!
Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.
Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."
This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.
And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?
What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.
"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"
We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.
Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.
Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.
So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.
So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.
So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.
Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:
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... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:
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... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:
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I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.
And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).
So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!
And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.
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They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.
Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:
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The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.
You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.
More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.
Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.
Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.
Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.
Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.
Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.
Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.
There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!
It's subjective. It's unrealiable.
It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.
The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):
God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.
God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.
Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."
Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)
Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.
Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).
Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.
Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:
Part 2: The Story of wee Morag
Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941
Hugs and kisses, (God)!
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fellthemarvelous · 4 months
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Holy forking shirtballs
I'm choosing violence today. I started this on Twitter, but I'm going to finish my thoughts here like I always do.
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But what really blows my mind the most is the way that people look at Aziraphale's "choice" at the end, as if he had one to fucking begin with.
I'm sorry, but Aziraphale knows how messed up Heaven is. He told The Metatron, more than once, that he did not want to go back to Heaven! We can debate what each of us means by "choice" all night because my "choice" and your "choice" might be two different concepts. He could have been strong armed by The Metatron or he could have looked at where things were headed and realized he had no choice but to intervene himself.
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You need to ask yourself what Aziraphale has a moral imperative to do.
What do we owe to each other?
Seriously, if you have not watched The Good Place, I recommend you go and watch it, because it absolutely shaped how I've viewed Good Omens 2 since its release.
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My levels of frustration with the bad faith mischaracterizations of Aziraphale are off the charts. If you are blaming him for everything, implying that he should have to grovel and that Crowley has a right to hurt him back, you have missed the point of Good Omens entirely.
I defend Aziraphale, but I don't think one of them is more right or wrong than the other. They're equals. They're a group of the two of them, acting and reacting to each other throughout history. They're Alpha Centauri.
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I cannot even begin to explain how fucking devastated I felt when Crowley said these words, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. What he said took a lot of courage because he's finally admitting something they've both been too scared to publicly define for 6,000 years. Crowley has had to spend so long with a rough outer shell because he fell and had to hide all of his softness.
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The look on his face was one of pure joy when he created that nebula, but I think the fact that he got to share that moment with Aziraphale is what has always stuck with him.
So yeah, seeing Crowley with a broken heart at the end of "Every Day" was sad for me as well.
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My brain still lives here!!
But Neil has said that Good Omens 3 is not quiet, gentle, or romantic. I imagine it's going to be more like the the first season in which they are not central to the plot. GO2 will help us make sense of how they ended up where they are when we see the bigger picture with all the other major players involved with GO3.
Aziraphale was still a soldier and accidentally got himself discorporated in his own magic circle in season one. He had a platoon waiting on him to start Armageddon, and he deserted them to go save the world with Crowley instead. Aziraphale is a deserter. I need everyone to remember that. He yeeted himself out of Heaven and sought out Crowley before even locating a body just to warn him about what was happening so they could try to save the world together.
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I can't help but think of 1941 and that magician who had been arrested for being a deserter.
Aziraphale disobeyed orders. That took courage but it branded him as a traitor against Heaven. They tried to destroy him for it the same way Hell tried to destroy Crowley for his part in stopping the war.
Aziraphale and Job are the only characters we have seen interacting with God directly. Aziraphale has spoken to God before and he is determined to do so again.
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Aziraphale knows Heaven is flawed, but he also knows it's supposed to be good. He wants it to be good. He does not like the way the system works and he wants to make a difference. (And I'm pretty sure he's also determined to talk to God without being intercepted by The Metatron.)
Since when is that a bad thing? I don't get it. And I've had this discussion before.
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If you need to change the system by burning the old one to the ground, it's still change, and we don't know what Aziraphale has planned.
It seems to me that people just want to see Aziraphale fail because it would punish him for returning to Heaven instead of running off with Crowley.
Some of y'all take everything Aziraphale says or does and twist those things into malicious anti-Crowley actions because you think the only reason Aziraphale exists is to make Crowley happy, and if he isn't thinking only about Crowley then he's doing something wrong.
Aziraphale does not exist as a plot device to further Crowley's character. They come as a pair. They've been learning from each other for 6,000 years. Crowley challenges Aziraphale just as much as Aziraphale challenges him.
You can be mad at Aziraphale all you want, but villainizing him is gross. Defending Crowley does not mean you have to tear down and mischaracterize Aziraphale anymore than defending Aziraphale means you have to tear down Crowley (but I don't see that happen on nearly the same level it happens to Aziraphale). Stop painting Aziraphale as an abusive partner, for fuck sake.
Aziraphale knows there are flaws in the system. He wants to make a difference, and since he has seen that Gabriel can change, then maybe the whole system can. He has to at least try, and if he can succeed then maybe he and Crowley can stop hiding and finally be together without having to look over their shoulders all the time.
Why is that a bad thing? He's just as protective of Crowley as Crowley is of him!
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But don't forget that Aziraphale's wing was covering Adam and Eve too. As much as a wants to protect Crowley, he has a moral imperative to keep humanity safe as well.
He sent Adam and Eve into the unknown with a flaming sword so they could protect themselves.
As much as he wants to be with Crowley, there are 8 billion people on Earth heading toward the Second Coming and Judgment Day. They'll work together to fight alongside humanity in the end. Aziraphale should not have to humiliate himself just to earn Crowley's forgiveness. That's a rancid notion.
The Resurrectionist was a whole ass moral dilemma for Aziraphale, which is why I brought up The Good Place earlier, but that's a post for a different time.
Aziraphale has his own motivations and they're just as important as Crowley's, and they don't have to be chalked up to Aziraphale being the bad guy. Weird, I know, but shades of grey.
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"To the world."
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percervall · 18 days
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it's a bad idea (fuck it, it's fine) — part 1
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Summary: your housemates give you an offer you can't refuse. What's the worst that could happen? Pairing: Jenson Button x fem!reader, Fernando Alonso x fem!reader, Sebastian Vettel x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: smut, dirty talk, mild degrading, oral (m and f receiving), face fucking, fingering, slight nipple play, hinting at m/m, mentions of free use, *gasp* and they were room mates Word count: 1.9k
Part 1 of the Fuck It series
The arrangement was, frankly, absurd. Had the offer come from anyone other than Jenson, you would have kicked them so hard they wished you had punched them instead. Part of you hoped he would have forgotten what he had said while heavily under the influence of too much champagne, but luck was not on your side. 
"Have you thought about my offer?" Jenson asks, innocently blowing on his coffee, making you choke on air. 
"The offer in which I pay my rent by, wait let me check my notes. Ah, yes, 'fucking you'," you reply, voice a lot steadier than you feel. Because truth be told, it had been impossible to not fantasise about getting railed into next week by him- by any of them. Oh, you were well aware of how much your life had become the plot of a rom-com ever since your landlord decided to be an absolute greedy bastard. Become a live-in house sitter for 4 millionaires they said, it'll be fun they said. Liars.
"Oh come on, it'll be mutually beneficial," Jenson argued. 
"Proud of you for using your big boy words, pretty boy but how exactly is this gonna end up in anything other than disaster?" 
"He's hungover and a himbo, why are you bullying him?" Mark mutters, voice still rough with sleep as he literally picks you up and unceremoniously plops you down on top of the counter. There are days where you curse your small stature and his strength, especially when it leaves your brain stuttering to process getting manhandled. 
"We'll set rules. All I'm saying is we're all adults-.." You can't help but snort at that. "Fine, whatever. I'm just saying that I've seen the way you look at them, seen the way your eyes flash with lust and I am pretty sure some truly filthy fantasies, and I know I can speak for all four of us when I say we would love to help you realise those. Also, we don't need your rent money and this is just so much more fun." Well then. You just got read for filth before even having had your morning coffee. Fuck him for seeing right through you. 
"Where's your sense of adventure, nena?" Fernando comments, a wicked glint in his eyes.
"Right next to my 'I survived Multi-21' t-shirt," you mutter. It's a low blow, but getting bullied into sleeping with four drivers makes it hard to think.
Mark shoots you a look, eyebrow raised. 
"The mouth on you," he comments, "Seb was very apologetic. Made it up to me in the best possible way. In fact, I should make you apologise to the both of us the same way, sweetheart. On your knees." He whispers the last part in your ear and you cannot contain the whimper that comes out at his thinly veiled threat.
“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being made to kneel and take cock like the good little girl you are, hm?” 
“Mark-..” You have no idea how to respond to that and keep your dignity in tact. You try to look away but Mark takes your chin between his forefinger and thumb.
“I asked you a question sweetheart. Are you gonna be a good girl for us?” His thumb tugs on your bottom lip and all rational thought leaves you as you nod. 
“Mm, knew JB was right about you. Takes one to know one, I suppose.” You can hear a muffled what the fuck’s that supposed to mean? from the living room as Mark helps you down from the counter. You hadn’t even noticed the McLaren teammates had left the kitchen until just now. 
“On your knees, sweetheart,” Mark nudges you and you sink down onto the floor. The small kitchen runner is the only thing protecting your knees from the cold hardwood floor, but the prospect of sore knees is quickly forgotten now that you’re at eye level with Mark’s crotch. You can clearly see the outline of his hardening cock against his shorts and it has your mouth watering. Mark chuckles as he notices the hunger in your eyes.
“You’re lucky Seb is out for a run. Or maybe I’m the lucky one, getting to fuck this mouth all by myself.” The whimper you let out is involuntarily as you eagerly watch him hook his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, pushing them down far enough to free his cock. You scoot a little closer, taking him in your hand, tongue darting out to lick away the bead of pre-cum. Mark hisses, head thrown back and that’s all the encouragement you need to suck the tip into your mouth. 
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he says, sounding absolutely wrecked already despite you not even having done anything yet. 
“You said something about fucking my mouth?” Mark looks down at you, pupils completely blown and he grins so wickedly, it leaves you breathless. 
“Are you absolutely sure sweetheart?” As you nod in response, he gathers your hair into a ponytail in his fist, angling your face. “Alright then. Tap my thigh twice if it’s too much and I will stop, okay?” 
“Okay,” you parrot, and move your legs apart ever so slightly to stabilise yourself. Mark drags the tip of his cock across your lips and you open up for him. He slides in, careful to not immediately choke you. You relax your jaw as much as you can, but god it’s been so long since you last did this. Mark sets a slow rhythm, letting the both of you adjust. Looking up at him through your lashes, you can see how he’s trying to hold on to the last shreds of self control, and well. That just won’t do. 
“Mark,” you say, slightly out of breath as you pull back, “you taunted me with using me. So for the love of God, fucking use me.” Mark chuckles and the sound has you aching. He tightens his grip on your hair and slides his cock back into your mouth. Resting your hands on his thighs, you close your eyes as he finally delivers on his promise. The sounds are obscene and if you had a functioning brain cell left, you would have been concerned about the two of you doing this in the kitchen, but as things stand, the only thing you can focus on is Mark’s throbbing cock inching down your throat. Forcing yourself to open your eyes, you look at him as you swallow around him. 
“Fuck. Fuck. I’m not gonna last, sweetheart,” he groans, pulling back. You hollow your cheeks while taking deep breaths through your nose, pulling another string of curses from the Aussie. You can feel his cock throb as he grunts above you.
“Gonna-.. Fuck.. So good, you feel so fucking good..” he mumbles, and throws his head back as he comes. 
“You better not swallow, Schatzi,” comes a voice from the doorway. Who are you to disobey? Mark pulls out carefully, tucking himself back into his shorts while Sebastian helps you up from the floor. He carries you bridal style into the living room, placing you down on the couch next to Fernando. 
“Show Nando, baby,” Sebastian all but coos and you carefully open your mouth. The underlying relationships? Questionmark? between your housemates makes your head spin, but judging by the way Fernando’s eyes darken, Sebastian knows something about the Spaniard you don’t. 
“Can I kiss you, nena?” he asks and all you can do is nod. Fernando cradles your cheek, pressing an almost chaste kiss against your lips before he runs his tongue over the seam of your lips. The moan he lets out as he tastes Mark on your tongue has you throbbing. When you break apart to catch some air, Sebastian leans closer and licks away the few drops of cum that spilled when Fernando kissed you. Am I dreaming? you can’t help but wonder. Out loud apparently.
“Very much awake, doll,” Jenson grins as he kneels in front of you, “Something tells me you’re absolutely soaking. Mind if I give a hand? I do so love making people come with my mouth,” he adds and you’re quick to raise your hips so he can pull down your panties, much to Jenson’s amusement. He pushes your oversized shirt up higher and parts your legs. Sebastian moves your face so he can steal a kiss and you moan into his mouth as Jenson drags the flat of his tongue over your oh so sensitive clit. Their hands are everywhere it feels like. You’re pretty sure Fernando has one up your shirt, teasing your nipple while he kisses your neck. Jenson’s are curled around the inside of your thighs as he holds you open for him while Sebastian has one hand on your cheek as he kisses you; the other mirrors Fernando’s. Needing something to hold on to, you bury a hand in Jenson’s hair. He sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning against your cunt as you tug. Breaking the kiss, you throw your head back with a moan of your own while you grind against Jenson’s tongue. 
“Need.. Fingers.. Please, Jenson, need your-.. Fuck, oh God..” Despite your incoherent state, Jenson understands what it is you’re asking of him as he carefully slides two of his long fingers inside of you. Sebastian and Fernando manage to strip you of your t-shirt, both of them taking a nipple into their mouth. 
“I’m so-.. So close.. I’m gonna cum, please can I cum?” you whimper. Fernando mutters a yes against your skin and something snaps; Your back arches as your orgasm hits you and for a moment you forget how to breathe. The loss of Jenson’s fingers makes you whine but your housemates more than make up for it when Fernando grabs his wrist in order to bring Jenson’s fingers to his mouth, moaning as he tastes you. 
“Just as I thought, you taste delicious nena,” the Spaniard comments with a grin. These men will be the death of me, you can’t help but think while Seb accepts the glass of water Mark hands him. The German driver helps you take a few sips as you slowly return into your body. Something tells you that this only scratches the surface of their underlying dynamics and you are dying to delve deeper.
“Told you it’d be mutually beneficial,” Jenson jokes, pulling you from your thoughts. 
“God, I hate that I’m saying this because your ego is fucking big enough as is-,” you start only for Jenson to interrupt with a that’s not the only thing that’s big, doll which makes you roll your eyes.
“I was gonna agree to your plan, idiot. You proved your point. Twice over. I- eh.. I can see the appeal,” you continue before downing the last of the water. The four men share a look that you can’t quite decipher and it makes you wonder: just what did you exactly sign up for? You pull your shirt back on, suddenly very aware of the fact you’re naked, needing something to act as a barrier between you and this crazy idea. 
“How about we discuss the details after breakfast? Don’t know about you, but I am starving,” Mark breaks the silence. You nod gratefully and let Sebastian pull you to your feet. A part of you is excited to see where this.. arrangement will lead you, but you’re also apprehensive that you might be about to bite off far more than you can chew. 
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Welp. Here we go I guess. Updates are gonna be slow on this, so please temper your expectations. Ideas have been brain stormed, things are brewing in the ol' noggin, I just gotta write it 🥲
Massive shoutout to @curiousthyme and @feralnando for helping me brain rot about this and for holding my hand while I descent even further into chaos. This whole part was written while listening to Hozier's Too Sweet and Ethel Cain's Gibson Girl on repeat, so feel free to do with that information as you please
Please let me know what you think. Your comments, likes and tags mean the world to me 💜
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tacroyy · 9 months
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losing my shit about the two times vimes gets slapped by a woman in the guards books (night watch and snuff; spoilers for both below). terry pratchett is completely goddamn brilliant.
both times, it's near enough to the beginning of the plot that vimes is partially convinced he doesn't know what's going on and is still information gathering (so, working a little on autopilot, although thoughts are starting to coalesce). the women he encounters show up after a watershed moment—major transformative plot points on both occasions—and both help him and help move the narrative along with the information they provide. and this is my favorite detail—he's tired both times, too, and just needs to think, because of the amount of new information he's processing.
from night watch:
"I think perhaps I lost my memory when I was attacked," he said. That sounded good, he thought. What he really needed now was somewhere quiet, to think.
"Really? Perhaps I'm the Queen of Hersheba," said Rosie [Palm]. "Just remember, kind sir. I'm not doing this because I'm interested in you, although I'd admit to a macabre fascination about how long you're going to survive. If it hadn't been a cold wet night I'd have left you in the road. I'm a working girl, and I don't need trouble. But you look like a man who can lay his hands on a few dollars, and there will be a bill."
"I'll leave the money on the dressing table," said Vimes.
The slap in the face knocked him against the wall. /end quote
and from snuff:
She [Felicity Beedle] turned to Vimes. "It would seem, commander, that providence has brought you here in time to solve the murder of the goblin girl, who was an excellent pupil. I came up here as soon as I heard, but the goblins are used to undeserved and casual death. I"ll walk with you to the entrance, and then I've got a class to teach."
Vimes tugged at Feeny to make him keep up as they followed Miss Beedle and her charge toward the surface and blessed fresh air. He wondered what had become of the corpse. What did they do with their dead? Bury them, eat them, throw them on the midden? Or was he just not thinking right, a thought which itself had been knocking at his brain for some time. Without thinking, he said, "What else do you teach them, Miss Beedle? To be better citizens?"
The slap caught him on the chin, probably because even in her anger Miss Beedle realized that he still had his steel helmet on. /end quote
vimes makes mistakes. he makes mistakes all the time, and he knows this, and pays attention to them. vimes spends a lot of time thinking about thinking (engaging in productive, internally motivated metacognition well within his zone of proximal development, my master's in teaching insists i say). he thinks about his thinking, and he thinks about other people's thinking through the lens of his own.
in both instances, vimes is coming to realizations about the true nature of things.
in night watch, this would initially seem to be more surface than deep: he's getting to physical grips with exactly when and where (and who) in the past he is; he's learning the ground, mapping, figuring things out—but vimes is also trying to settle himself back in to what he knows, and what society is in these different times, to see if that fits. plotwise, in vimes's present, the seamstresses have a guild, rights, safety, standards, rules, regulations, and even societal respect—although certainly not close to what they deserve, it's much more than what they had before vetinari made their guild a reality. but in the past, where vimes is now, the seamstresses don't have this level of security, and are subject to violence (although it is shown to be societal and legal violence [being arrested for working during their profession's peak, etc] rather than interpersonal or sexual violence [the agony aunts exist and, it is clearly stated, dispense the same justice that they do in the future, specifically to individual clients rather than to larger institutional structures]).
so, when vimes puts down rosie by making a disparaging joke about her profession—oh, you're actually not important to me or to men or to society at all; your labor is not to be respected; i got what i needed from you and will of course pay you, but in the most insulting way possible—he's not only communicating what society thinks, but a moral issue of the novel as well. night watch, after all, is about revolution: who gets to be in power, and who gets to control who gets to be in power? it's frankly revolutionary for pratchett, a mainstream english author, to treat sex workers and sex work as positively as he does (of course, his depictions are not without flaws). he makes it clear that, after all, shouldn't we view sex work as physical labor? isn't it true that anyone who is employed is engaging in physical labor? how is a seamstress really different from a "seamstress"? (it's the power dynamics and misogyny standard to western/european/american/christian society: women and sex must be controlled by the patriarchial majority, kept small and afraid and in chains.) pratchett legitimizes the seamstresses in vimes's present. in vetinari's ankh-morpork, the seamstresses have just as much power as the merchants, the armorers, the assassins—and vimes knows this, but he did grow up in the past he's in now.
in snuff, vimes's approaching anagnorisis is more obviously manifested. brilliantly, pratchett begins vimes's encounter with the goblins by talking about vimes's childhood teacher, mistress slightly, who "taught [him] how not to be afraid" and made him blackboard monitor, "the first time anyone had entrusted him with anything;" vimes thinks he'll put a bag of peppermints on her grave if he gets out of this alive. all positive, and in fact clearly transformative, praise from our hero. but vimes is in a goblin cave, and pratchett has brought up mistress slightly because vimes is remembering his first (educational, not physical) encounter with goblins. this paragraph is worth quoting in full:
"[Mistress Slightly] had one book in her tiny sitting room, and the first time she had given it to young Sam Vimes to read he had got as far as page seven when he froze. The page showed a goblin: the jolly goblin, according to the text. Was it laughing, was it scowling, was it hungry, was it about to bite your head off? Young Sam Vimes hadn't waited to find out and had spent the rest of the morning under a chair. These days he excused himself by remembering that most of the other kids felt the same way. When it came to the innocence of childhood, adults often got it wrong. In any case, she had sat him on her always slightly damp knee after class and made him really look at the goblin. It was made of lots of dots! Tiny dots, if you looked closely. The closer you looked at the goblin the more it wasn't there. Stare it down and it lost all its power to frighten. 'I hear that they are wretched, badly made mortals,' the dame had said sadly. 'Half-finished folk, or so I hear. It's only a blessing this one had something to be jolly about.'"
a near-perfect depiction, unfortunately, of the educational experience. encounter something that scares you and makes you uncomfortable, examine it with the help of a pedagogist, examine it on your own, take it apart so that you are not afraid anymore, and instead understand what it is and how it is made: that's the experience from the first word of the quote all the way until "Stare it down and lost all its power to frighten." and then, a heel-turn: your teacher shows that they completely misunderstood the lesson they were teaching—and that you, the child, understood both parts of the lesson perfectly: you absorbed the critical thinking skills and that this existing societal prejudice is, in fact, totally correct and should not be examined using the skills you just learned.
thus, pratchett has vimes, our hero, our moral center, spout the violent, ingrained, dehumanizing, incitement-to-genocide nonsense of the society in which he has been formed. vimes does this tiredly, without thinking, without making the connection between how things are and how they ought to be, missing the direct relationship of that required moral reevaluation to the case and situation at hand. and pratchett throws that directly back in vimes's face, physically. both times, pratchett says: even if you're tired, even if there's shit going down, even if your worldview is being turned upside down, even if you're in the dead middle of processing everything you've so recently learned, you cannot make the mistake of dehumanization/depersonalization. and you, of all people, have to know that, vimes. not one drop of alcohol passes your lips, not one minute after six goes by without you reading to your son, not one arrestee is subjected to even small or casual police brutality. and not one person—seamstress or goblin—is to be insulted and discriminated against and excluded from deserving to live. to do so, to make that mistake even once, is to face the immediate physical consequences of it from someone deeply and fundamentally in the know. you need the sense smacked into you.
from night watch:
"Consider that a sign of my complete lack of a sense of humor, will you?" said Rosie, shaking some life back into her hand.
"I'm... sorry," said Vimes. "I didn't mean to... I mean... look, thak you for everything. I mean it. But this is not being a good night."
"Yes, I can see that."
"It's worse than you think. Believe me."
"We all have our troubles. Believe me," said Rosie. /end quote.
from snuff:
It was a corker, nonetheless, and out of the corner of his stinging gaze he saw Feeny take a step back. At least the boy had some sense.
"You are the gods' own fool, Commander Vimes! No, I'm not teaching them to be fake humans, I'm teaching them how to be goblins, clever goblins! Do you know that they have only five names for colors? Even trolls have around sixty, and a lot more than that if they find a paint salesman! Does this mean goblins are stupid? No, they have a vast number of names for things that even poets haven't come up with, for things like the colors shift and change, the melting of one hue into another. They have single words for the most complicated of feelings; I know about two hundred of them, I think, and I'm sure there are a lot more! What you may think are grunts and growls and snarls are in fact carrying vast amounts of information! They're like an iceberg, commander: most of them is where you can't see or understand, and I'm teaching Tears of the Mushroom and some of her friends so that they may be able to speak to people like you, who think they are dumb. And do you know what, commander? There isn't much time! They're being slaughtered! It's not called that, of course, but slaughter is how it ends, because they're just dumb nuisances, you see. Why don't you ask Mr. Upshot what happened to the rest of the goblins three years ago, Commander Vimes?"
And with that, Miss Beedle turned on her heel and disappeared down into the darkness of the cave with Tears of the Mushroom bobbing along behind her, leaving Vimes to walk the last few yards out into the glorious light. /end quote.
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maybecoffeemixed · 4 months
Text
MAIN PLOT LINE OF DLC HAS BEEN FINISHED, SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT (long post, be warned)
7.8/10, kieran doesn't actually kill us.
Seriously though, I enjoyed it!! Since I don't actually own the game (we poor), I watched a no-commentary playthrough so there are plenty of things I very likely missed, including optional dialog, side-quests, and whatever that thing with the professors is (still lookin' for a video without some guy over it), so I can only comment on the bits I saw! That being said, here we go.
First of all, the BATTLES!! Despite not being able to play them myself, they looked SUPER fun!! I screamed when I saw Lacey's tailwind/lightscreen prankster whimsicott, and even MORE so when I saw it was sashed! I loved the usage of competitive items, and the fact that all their teams weren't completely mono-type, each having one exception to their type (Lacey's excadrill, Crispin's Exeggcutor, Amarys's Reuniclus, and Drayton's Sceptile) that they DIDN'T terrastalize was lovely touch!! Amarys's fight was super hype in particular, despite having an over 20 level advantage, the person I watched still nearly wiped to her! Her trick room AI does appear a bit goofy, but it's a small flaw. Finally, Kieran's battle... I personally adore a good rain team, but unfortunately Kieran's politoed was frozen at the start of the battle, and remained that way all the way til the end, so I can't honestly say how difficult it looked. The one thing I will say is that before the indigo disk was out, I created a hypothetical team for Kieran, and I CALLED that Grimmsnarl!! Literally even the focus sash. If anyone's curious, here was the hypothetical team I made. I'm a nuzlocker, not a competitive player, so it very well may be shit. Apologies in advance.
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Next is the characters!! Every design slapped as always, and I enjoyed their personalities! Lacey was adorbs, Crispin was fun, and Amarys might just be one of my new favorites! As for Drayton? Let me tell you, I was side-eyeing him the whole time the MOMENT after he said THIS to Kieran.
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After all the hype around dokutaro/peechikeen (now know as pecharunt, apparently), and all the speculation that Kieran would fall victim to its influence, him saying "that's just peachy" made my rat brain go into overdrive. In the end, I think it was just Legends Arceus giving me Volo flashbacks.
Now, the main event... KIERAN! Let me tell you, he gave me GOOSEBUMPS. Every time he appeared, I could feel a chill run up my spine, and his battle had my heart RACING. ESPECIALLY his breakdown at the end of it! One of the best times I've had in a good while. The animation, his reaction, all of it was GREAT!! It was so refreshing to see him not immediately heel-face turn.
Unfortunately, though, what happened after that all disappointed me. I admit I got too attached to the Dokutaro Posession theory, buy it was still disappointing for Dokutaro (I know that's not its name, leave me be) to not play any role in the main story. It felt like a natural conclusion to what the game was setting up, I thought he'd throw the master ball at terapagos, it'd fail, and he'd become so overwhelmed with everything that has happened that he'd succumb to Dokutaro's control and we'd have to fight the Dokutaro-Kieran with Terapagos's aid. That's not what happened, and I felt a bit sad. His recovery from his breakdown was still set up nicely and had some atleast sufficient justification, but it still felt like too-little too-soon. It felt more like he just gave up all together rather than defeated his demons. He'd never be as strong as the player, and that's that, which is a sour note to leave off on.
We see that he legitimately has nothing. All the other students left the MOMENT he was defeated. No one came to help the kid who was clearly having a panic attack. The BB league cares about him, sure, but I wouldn't consider them his friends. They all thought Kieran getting defeated would "fix" him, and even when he clearly wasn't any better after being defeated, they didn't do anything to assist him. Sure, sometimes when someone has climbed so high, you gotta let them fall, but once they do, you can't just leave them lying on the ground. You need to be there to lift them back up before they start digging.
This isn't an attack on the BB league at ALL. Like I said, I really enjoyed their characters! In fact, this reaction is part of the reason I like them so much. It adds depth.
I just wish that Kieran DID start digging, and that it led to something bigger. Even if Dokutaro wasn't involved, I atleast wanted the final battle with him to be that big thing, and not just a turtle that can't do anything but throw out weak earthpowers.
Though the biggest failing to me is that Kieran apologizes to us, but we don't apologize to him. We as in the player, and Carmine
Kieran's actions are his own and I'm not saying he shouldn't have apologized, but he wasn't solely culpable for how things turned out. We and Carmine purposefully lied, kept a secret that was dear to him, and were the straw that broke the camel's back. Even if we the player didn't apologize, Carmine should've!! Her treatment of Kieran heavily impacted him, and he mirrored her abuse (Kieran telling Carmine to "Shut it", just like she did to him, for example).
Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, was in the wrong here. Kieran took things too far, Carmine behavior is a serious problem, and the played character was complicit.
I'm not demonizing anyone here, I am the number one Carmine defender after all, but everyone needs to take responsibility. Not. Just. Kieran.
I relate heavily to both Kitakami siblings, as both an elder sister with younger siblings who she's accidentally mistreated, and as a little sister with an older sibling who treats me like I'm lesser.
I've lashed out at my older sibling, and while my reaction wasn't proportional, it doesn't mean my emotions weren't justified.
I have severe genetic anger issues (that I'm now thankfully medicated for), and have unjustly taken them out on my younger siblings.
Carmine needs to apologize too, or the cycle will just continue. Maybe she already did and I missed it, or maybe it happens in the post-game. However, if she didn't? It makes me feel unresolved.
Anyways, that all I gotta say on it!! Hope someone enjoyed this overly long rambling!!
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(P.S. I still don't trust dragon boy. "Thats just peachy" my ASS, you know something ya toothpaste haired cunt. Why did they request to bring ya along to area zero anyways, ya plot relevant FUCK.)
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spectersgirl · 6 months
Note
Harvey and the reader get into an agrument (something juicy? About scottie?)at the office and she storms off.
And welcome to the perfect plot for part 2 of my mini-series! If you didn’t read part one, here it is
I didn't really proofread this too much so if you see something that doesn't make sense, no you didn't <3
This part is angst but it does have a happy ending
Something More (p2)
Harvey Specter x Reader
———
It had been six months since that first night with Harvey, and ever since then he’d been nothing short of a perfect gentleman. He made it a point to always open the car door for you, made surprise dinner reservations after secretly checking your calendar, and you frequently came into your office to find flowers, breakfast, coffee, or just little notes from him. They were little things, but they were things that no guy had ever done for you before. You never exactly announced your relationship to the office, but everyone had mostly figured out that something had been going on.
"Oooh those are pretty, I wonder who those are from" Rachel teased as she walked into your office, nodding at the rather large vase full of flowers. She knew about you and Harvey, of course.
"Check out the card, it says it's from a secret admirer" You said, handing her the card that came with the flowers.
“For the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I am so lucky to know you” she read the card aloud. "So I take it things are still going well with you two?"
"Honestly, things are really great. I know it’s pretty early still but, I can’t help but feel like this is the real deal. We've been opening up a lot to each other, he's been really sweet." You gushed.
"That's amazing! How did it go after he told you about Scottie? I mean I don't even know how I'd react"
You were puzzled, of course you knew about Scottie, everyone in the office knew about her and Harvey’s former relationship. For Rachel to bring her up like this, something else had to have happened.
"Told me... what about Scottie exactly?"
Rachel's froze, realizing that Harvey in fact had not told you about the recent development regarding his ex-girlfriend.
"Um, she's going up against Harvey on a case. She'll be in the office this week for a deposition. I'm sorry Y/N, I really thought you knew." Rachel apologized, feeling awful she had to be the one to break the news to you.
You’d known about his history with Scottie for a while now, he’d mentioned her to you and, through the work grapevine, you’d gathered that at one time Scottie meant the world to Harvey. The logical part of your brain knew that he wouldn’t leave you to go back her, but the fact that he hid it from you that she was coming into the office, gave you a pit in your stomach anyways.
"It's ok Rachel, don't worry about it. On an unrelated note, I'm going to see Harvey. Thanks for letting me know." You said, standing and smoothing out your dress before marching down to Harvey's office.
He looked up too briefly to notice the look on your face before he spoke.
"Hey babe, sorry I didn't come see you yet today, I've just been swamped."
"So swamped you couldn't seem to find the time to tell me you have a case against Scottie?"
"Excuse me?"
"Harvey, why did I have to find out about your ex-girlfriend coming into our workplace from someone who isn't you?" You pressed further, the anger bubbling inside your chest.
The look on Harvey's face was one you'd never seen pointed in your direction before, but you weren't about to back down.
"I didn't tell you because I didn't think it mattered!" He said, raising his voice now.
"Why would you think that wouldn't matter to me? You had a serious relationship with her and she's opposing counsel on your case, that's something you should at least consider sharing with the person you're dating!"
"What exactly do you think is going to happen in that room? I have work to do during a deposition, and the last thing that would ever be on my mind is sleeping with another woman who isn't you!"
"It isn't you I don't trust Harvey! How do you not see that? I don't know this woman, how could you expect me to trust her? I know she was in love with you, and I know that things have heated up with you two during cases in the past. I don't understand how you're blaming me for feeling like this."
He sighed, clearly irritated. He focused his attention back on the paperwork he had on the desk, not even bothering to look up at you as he spoke. His voice was quieter now, but still every bit as angry.
"I can't believe you're being this insecure over something so stupid. If you can't believe me when I say that I won’t allow anything to happen between me and Scottie ever again, then maybe we shouldn’t be together after all. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not that guy, and I thought you knew me better than that." He responded coldly.
You scoffed in shock. You couldn't believe he was actually serious in turning this around on you. Your stomach turned now.
"Insecure? Right, okay. You know what, why don't you call me when you have your shit together enough to figure out why I'm angry right now, and why that was fucked up of you to say." You said loudly, turning on your heel and storming off, back to your office.
You faintly heard him call your name as you walked, but you didn’t dare turn back, and he didn't follow either.
Not two minutes after you returned to your desk, Donna was in your doorway, a sheepish look on her face.
"Donna, it wasn't your fault." You said, not giving her a chance to even blame herself.
"I know, but I should've known he hadn't told you. I told him you'd want to know, I just figured maybe he'd listen for once." She explained.
You sighed, your eyes landing on the vase of flowers from that morning. Tears threatened to fall from your eyes, but you were fighting them hard.
"For what it's worth, he may be an ass but I know he cares about you, more than anyone I’ve seen him with. He can't see anyone else now that he's with you, I really wouldn't worry about Scottie. Harvey shouldn’t have said what he said to you, that was totally out of line. He’ll figure it out soon and probably come baring more flowers.”
The dam broke, and the tears fell. The hurt you still felt from Harvey’s words combined with Donna’s reassurances were too much.
"Thanks Donna" You said, sniffling.
She gave a sad smile before letting you know she had to get back to work, leaving you with a ‘hang in there’ as she departed.
You took a few deep breaths and wiped your tears before getting back to work, throwing yourself deep into your files. Maybe not the best coping mechanism, but it kept you busy enough to not think about Harvey. This worked for a little while, but slowly his harsh words would creep back into your mind, making you cry fresh tears all over again.
As time went on and the sun had long gone down, you felt your head start to pound. The time on your laptop showed 9:15 pm. You stretched a little, deciding to call it a night and head for home. It seemed that everyone else had left the office a while ago, if the silence of the halls rather than the typical hustle and bustle was any indication. The closer you got to the end of the hall, however, you heard music floating through the silence. If the office at the end of the hall belonged to anyone other than Harvey, you’d think this was the beginning of a ghost story about a haunted office building. The melody was somber. You walked forward, slower now, as you neared his office.
“Shit, why is he still here?” You thought. “He’s normally gone by 8 latest”
You stood there in the hall only inches from his door, debating on what to do. You knew he’d see you when you walked by, and even if he didn’t he would surely hear the elevator ding.
As you weighed the possible outcomes, you really had no time to react when you saw him suddenly walk out of his office, pausing too when he noticed you.
“Oh, Y/N. Hey, I was just coming to see if you were still here.”
“I was just going home.”
“Your home? Or mine?” He asked, in a tone that sounded like he didn’t want to know the answer.
You’d been sleeping at Harvey’s many nights since you started dating, in fact you weren’t even certain of the last time you’d slept in your own bed.
“Mine. After what you said to me, I don’t think I feel welcome at yours right now.”
It was only then that Harvey took in your appearance, and his heart dropped. You looked completely exhausted, the mascara on your eyes was long gone, and your cheeks and eyes were tinted red. He knew you’d been crying, and the look on his face was one of pure agony. He felt awful.
“I… Y/N I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Scottie. I just really didn’t think you’d care since I know how much I trust you. I lashed out and I yelled at you, and I shouldn't have done that. I didn’t think about your perspective, and I’m just so sorry. I never should’ve said that stuff to you" He said, slightly out of breath from his passion.
Tears openly fell from your eyes once again as you listened. You stepped forward, not responding. He reached for you, wiping the tears gently from your cheeks. You buried your face in his chest as he wrapped his arms around you firmly. He rested his chin on the top of your head, whispering how sorry he was.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly after a moment of silence.
“Please”
He didn’t waste another second before locking your lips with his. The kiss was full of longing and despair.
“I thought I lost you, and it was all my fault. I've never felt like this about anyone else, and the second I realized what I did I felt sick that I made you feel that way. I didn't know what to do.” Harvey rambled.
“Shhh, Harvey, It’s okay now. I’m right here, and I'm not going to leave you.”
He sighed in relief, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again and looking into yours.
"What did I do to deserve you?"
"It helps that you're handsome." You said, a smile growing on your lips.
Harvey chuckled, placing a hand on your lower back and walking you into his office so he could grab his stuff and lead you to the elevators.
"I'd love to have you over tonight, but I understand if you're not ready."
You smiled, grabbing his hand and kissing the back of it.
"If you want me to come, then I'd love to come over"
"Good. I don't think I could've gone another minute without you"
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emmitaaa4 · 3 months
Text
Addressing some fandom BS inconsistencies
Gwyn was shadow mommy, Az was shadow daddy, they were gonna have shadow babies with her extra super pliable bones.
I audibly chocked when I read this @nikethestatue (btw everything said in this post was on point). No but seriously this is how they sound, too many of them insisting that there is nothing wrong with basing the likelihood of a ship on who has the more suitable uterus to be with a man... cause supposedly they're just picking up on the hints SJM wrote for them? She likes babies for HEAs so ofc children are the end all be all of a relationship, plus there's absolutely no way that she could ever write an adoption plot SJM is literally adopted and has done it in other series. Selective reading strikes again.
A minimum amount of critical thinking would tell you that 1) the infamous *magical uterus change* scene was about nessian (& feysand), not about any ship; 2) if SJM had written Nesta changing Elain's uterus, it would have given too much away, not to mention 3) how disturbing/violating it would have been for Nesta to change her sister's reproductive anatomy WITHOUT HER CONSENT?! None of it makes sense narratively; my girl Nes would never, especially given the trauma they both suffered from having their bodily autonomy--and so much more--ripped away by the Cauldron.
This argument is so trivialized that I see it every other day on reddit/tiktok/*insert media app*, and yet elriels are the toxic side of the fandom? The ones whom people are allowed to insult, to ridicule for theories all made in good fun, the women that are villainized over a difference of opinion? Don't get me wrong, there's assholes on both sides and people keep calling one another variations of delulu (and the nastier personal attacks). But by painting this fandom-wide villain there is such a lack of accountability for the plethora of harmful talking points spread by other portions of the fandom. (I've been silently reading the anti-elain & anti-elriel tags for like a year, and I'm on tiktok. Yes, I have self-destructive tendencies).
Anyways.
I never understood either how people ever actually thought (or well still think) that gwynriel would happen BEFORE elucien?? It makes no sense logically, narratively, or in terms of characterization & the arc she's set up for Elain, Azriel, and Lucien. Yet it took one controversial bonus chapter for people to decenter Elain in her own story, that is make her choice of romantic partner--which SJM spent 3+ books setting up--Azriel's. It took one bonus chapter that soo many readers are still unaware of, to brush Elain off as a "sexual object" Az is using to distract himself until his therapist-extraordinaire Gwyn comes in and heals him all up. Because ofc she will: she's badass and not the "passive and weak and boring" Eplain (aka "Plant" or "brain dead gardener"), she fits the YA archetype of the spunky warrior-girl so she can handle his darkness, and SJM supposedly spent time fleshing her out because she wrote her as a LI for Azriel; she's made for him, she is what he needs to grow (I actually enjoyed Gwyn's character btw, just pointing out how silly it all sounds). “Next book is a love triangle between Elain/Az/Gwyn” “Elain will turn evil or is secretly evil”. So you're telling me that SJM would pit Elain & Gwyn against each other in a love triangle over a man... all because of a necklace that was not even mentioned once in the actual books? Please, let's be logical for a second.
All this because instead of reading the bonus chapter in the context of the books, some people are reading the books in the context of the bonus chapter. Which now that I think of it is probably why so many people mischaracterize Az the way they do--because yes we know enough of his character to know half of the stuff the fandom diagnoses him with is questionable. Azriel? Entitled incel x fuckboy hybrid (gotta be the first of his kind, minute slay ig)? Interesting tell me more. No joke I saw a semi-popular post on here where a gwynriel said they read the bonus WITHOUT HAVING READ ANY OF THE BOOKS. I'm sorry, ship wars are silly and believe it or not idc who ppl ship, but it makes it hard to take some of the things they say seriously.
All this to say that the fandom isn't even debating the right thing. If you consider everything SJM has said in her interviews:
(she's been planting seeds for Nesta & Elain's book since acomaf; she knows who she is writing the first 2 books about + is keeping things open for the 3rd one--with 5 different ship options--which automatically rules out "Elain will close the series"; she said she's doing research for Elain's book in the ACOFAS bonus & there's seeds for future bookS in acofas; all she said recently about her beloved *heroines* and the themes of fate/true love/choice she finds *very* interesting & wants to discuss)
and if you also consider all she's written in the actual books (elain's characterization + the overarching plot in general & how she fits into it), then it's pretty evident that Elain's book is next.
The question then would be who is the MMC / 2nd PoV in her book, aka would acotar 5 be an elucien or an elriel story? Because logically, gwynriel was always a consequence of elucien. I honestly do not understand how people don't see that.
Oh and they always think they're gagging elriels with the "obviously Azriel is the next MC" as if elriels aren't saying the same thing? And we're the ones twisting info and not making sense. It's just funny at this point.
---sidenote: I realize that this post generalizes some things, and I just wanted to say that I have interacted with lovely eluciens / people on either side of this headache of a ship war. My hard limit is Elain haters though... back off I say 🤺 BACK OFF 🤺
---sidenote 2: I would have written this as a reblog except im not entirely sure how tumblr works and I get no visibility from them rip.
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readerthatreadsss · 9 months
Text
Sweet Fantasy | Dean Winchester
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GIF by born-to-be-his-baby88
(gave myself an actual pat on the fucking back for finding this gif like y'all are gonna see how perfect it is in a second!)
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem! reader
Word Count: 3.9k
Summary: Dean won't eat his vegetables...until you offer to cash in on a very recent fantasy of his, that is.
Warnings [18+ MINORS DNI]: P*rn w/ some solid plot action actually, a bit of domestic fluff sprinkled in, reader and Dean are married (don't know if that's a warning but you should know?), reader dresses up in a sexy Zorro costume with the hat and mask included, handcuffs (Dean receiving), mentions of a safeword but not used, fingering/masturbation (reader receiving), oral sex (brief Dean receiving), a whole lotta teasing (Dean receiving), p in v sex (cowgirl, missionary), unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly!), dirty talk, switch! Dean, switch! reader, very vocal Dean, brief choking (Dean receiving), creampie.
A/n: Hey! Sorry for disappearing for 3 months again...So classes finished almost 2 months ago and I've been wracking my brain about what to post. I tried finishing some of my drafts and it just wasn't working for me idk. Then, like any normal person, I was randomly watching some SPN bloopers this morning and it got to a scene where Dean said sometimes he wants to get spanked during sex by a girl wearing a Zorro mask and my brain ran with that shit IMMEDIATELY. Now, I'm so sorry I couldn't actually write him actually getting spanked without it sounding corny and just wrong to me? But I did write all of this in 7 hours without stopping so I'm honestly proud of it regardless.
Enjoy...
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It was a Sunday evening in the bunker, meaning you were responsible for dinner. With that task came the additional task of getting Dean to eat whatever vegetables you cooked without complaining and engaging in a rant that would end with him calling himself the “meat man”.
It’s not that you were concerned about Dean's weight or appearance, after 7 years of marriage you were confident that there was nothing in the world that could make you love Dean Winchester any less. But having a steady diet of beer, beef, and pie was a surefire way to kill any man of Dean’s age faster than any monster or demon.
And God knows you’d do anything to ensure he didn’t die before his time.
Hell, you have before.
Which is why you made Dean agree to eat a side of only vegetables with whatever meat he wanted at least once a week. This week it was string beans and sautéed mushrooms, aka his least favorite vegetable.
But you didn’t have the time to make the 45-minute drive to the grocery store earlier that day so he would have to deal.
Or you wish he would deal…
“Mushrooms? Baby come on,” he complained when you placed his plate before him.
“Hey, it’s all that was left in the fridge. Eat up,” you shrugged, placing a kiss on the crown of his head.
“You know, we could always do no vegetables,” Dean offered with a wide grin.
You chuckled and used a finger to squish his stubbled cheek. “You wish, Winchester.”
He sighed in defeat and turned to pick up his fork.
You looked to make sure Sam was out of earshot before leaning down to where your lips grazed Dean’s ear. “Tell you what, if you eat those vegetables I’ll do that thing you told me about…later” you whispered.
Dean’s eyes lit up immediately, “The thing?” he harshly whispered.
You nodded with a smile.
“Costume and everything?” He made a gesture with his hands.
“Yup, I’ve been hiding the costume for weeks.”
“I’m game” Dean agreed, digging into the mushrooms first.
You turned away to share your own plate with a smile.
“I’m gonna go grocery shopping later,” Sam announced as he sat beside Dean with his plate. He met your eyes, “Anything else you forgot to put on the list?”
“Yeah stop at the liquor store and grab me a bottle of red? I ran out,” you answered sitting across from the boys with your plate.
Sam grabbed a pen and a piece of folded paper from his pocket and added it to his list, “Yeah, no problem. What brand again?”
You swallowed a piece of your chicken with a smirk. “I’m sure you already know seeing as you’re the one who emptied the bottle to the very last drop,” you addressed Sam.
His pen slipped from his grip, his green eyes widening to meet your narrowed ones.
“You drink red wine?” Dean pointed at Sam in disbelief as a laugh rumbled in his chest.
“How did you know?” He asked you, ignoring Dean’s quip.
“I saw you passed out in the library clutching the bottle the other night.”
“Listen Dean finished all the beer and it was the first thing I saw,” he defended himself.
“Oh, you’re getting more creative with your excuses. I'm impressed!” You gushed, sarcasm evident in your tone, “What was it again last week? ‘Oh Eileen wanted to taste some’ " you mimicked his gruff tone causing him to roll his eyes and Dean’s laughter to grow louder. “-when we all know that Eileen is a white wine type of gal.”
"I-" Sam tried to come up with a retort but eventually gave up. “Whatever.”
“Yeah pick up 3 bottles this time in case Eileen wants a taste,” you replied with a grin.
“Three bottles?!” He exclaimed.
“You aren’t the one paying for it, genius,” you reminded him, referring to the unlimited card Charlie hacked for you all those years ago.
“Yeah but I’m gonna have to lug it up here,” Sam mumbled as he stuck his fork into his chicken.
Dinner continued mostly in silence with Sam thinking about the two lousy trips he’d have to make between his car and the kitchen once he returns with the groceries, Dean thinking about the reward he’ll be getting for the vegetables he’s actually grown used to eating, and y/n thinking about all the ways she’s gonna make Dean squirm later.
~ ~ ~
Hours had passed since dinner and Sam was now on his way to the grocery store leaving just you and Dean in the bunker.
To say he was excited would be an understatement.
Dean first told you about this fantasy of his after a case you had months ago required you to take a trip to an adult costume shop to question the owner. It took mere seconds for the image of you in the very specific costume to cross his mind after laying eyes on the packaging.
You laughed at the idea when he told you and silently decided you would try and find the costume.
Of course, he didn’t believe you would actually indulge him but you were actually excited too. Costumes and toys weren’t new territory for you and Dean but they were few and far between with your unpredictable hunting schedules.
Dean now sat at the edge of your shared bed wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt waiting for you to return like you had promised.
But it had been almost 20 minutes since you left to get changed and his patience was wearing thin. He was seconds away from getting up and coming to see if you needed help or if you were even hurt.
Which you predicted would be the case.
So you had been standing out of sight by the doorway for less than a minute now waiting for him to try and leave.
“Damnit,” Dean eventually gave in to his worries and began to make his way to the door.
You smirked once you heard his determined steps drawing closer.
Dean’s eyes widened once you spun from your hiding spot against the wall to stand before him. “Looking for me?”
You watched his throat bob and his pupils dilate as he took in your full look.
Atop your head and face rested a sexy black Zorro mask and matching hat. You were also wearing a black sleeveless leather top that stopped in your midriff region and had strings tied between your breasts that allowed a whole lot of cleavage to be on display. The leather skirt that accompanied was low-waisted and stopped at your upper thigh, matching the black thong you were wearing beneath.
You had stretched the thin straps of the thong along your hips above the skirt for added flair.
In your right hand, you held a fake silver sword similar to the one Zorro held in the movies, and hanging from the left side of your skirt were two handcuffs ready and waiting to be used.
You were sex on knee-length boot-covered legs.
Dean felt himself growing hard already.
You bit your bottom lip at the way your husband’s eyes roamed your body, hoping the dark red lipstick covering it was as transfer and waterproof as the box advertised.
“You look...stunning,” Dean marveled. The model on the packaging of the costume didn’t come close to how it looked on your body.
Your heart swelled at the compliment before remembering the persona you had practiced for the night ahead. “Oh I know,” you took a step closer and leaned against the doorway. You pointed the sword in Dean’s direction. “Why are you still dressed, Dean?” you asked with furrowed brows and a smile.
A chuckle almost left your lips at the sight of Dean fumbling with his pant strings and tripping over his own legs to send the pajama bottoms flying over to a random corner while throwing off his t-shirt with record speed.
He stood before you in only his boxers, his enjoyment of your costume evident by the bulge in the center.
“Get on the bed.” You told him, your tone not excessively commanding but sexy enough to make him obey immediately.
“Yes ma’am,” he smirked, quickly sitting and sliding up to the headboard of the bed.
You walked further into the room and placed your sword down before climbing onto the bed and slowly crawling to where Dean sat. His green eyes followed your every move as you moved to straddle him, but not fully.
You then grabbed the two pairs of handcuffs attached to your hips and twirled them around your fingers. “How you feeling Dean?” you checked in, your hips hovering above his thighs, making sure to not touch his erection just yet.
“Oh, I feel great. Real great. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this great,” he nodded eagerly as you cuffed each of his hands to each bedpost, getting a face full of your boobs in the process.
"You sound nervous," you teased him, "Am I making you nervous baby?"
"Me? Nervous? Pfft!"
You scoffed, not believing him one bit. "What's our safe word?" you asked him gently.
Dean leaned forward as much as his restraints would allow to press a sweet kiss against your stomach. " 'Oklahoma', baby," he grinned.
You then let your clothed ass sink down on his covered erection. Dean groaned and tried to reach for your hips instinctively only to meet the restriction of the handcuffs. “I hope they aren’t too tight 'cause they’re gonna be on there for a while,” you nearly bust out laughing at the look Dean gave you.
“A while?” he repeated, dreading not being able to touch you at a time like this.
You shrugged, “If you behave I might change my mind.”
Before he could argue further, you leaned forward and connected your lips in a searing kiss. His breath was hot against your face as your lips drifted to his neck while your hands found themselves in his hair.
A breathy groan slipped past his lips when you nipped a specific spot beneath his ear lobe. “You’re so loud. Maybe I should’ve bought a muzzle,” you whispered in his ear teasingly, feeling his dick jump beneath you at your words. “I'll remember that next time,” you replied to his body's response.
“Baby, do you have any idea how amazing you look? ” Dean gushed, struggling against his restraints as you began to grind your hips against his covered cock.
You smiled and met his lips in a kiss once again. He slipped his tongue between your welcoming lips, allowing his taste to flood your mouth. You pulled away seconds later, nipping his bottom lip, and removed yourself from his lap.
He watched nervously, awaiting your next move while you scooted farther away from him along the bed. You slowly slipped off your boots, your confidence unwavering as you held Dean’s hungry stare.
He watched you use a hand to hold yourself upright before spreading your legs open to reveal the lace thong covering your already-drenched pussy. “Are you about to..." he trailed off, jaw clenched as he spoke.
"Hmm mhm. And there is not a damn thing you can do about it...except watch," you slowly removed your thong and threw it at Dean’s lap. He immediately became hyperaware of the feeling of the wet lace draped over his dick.
You slowly brought two fingers up to your lips and sucked them even slower to coat them in your saliva and give Dean a show before bringing them down to where you needed them the most. You began slow ministrations against your aching clit, pulling moans from yourself that made Dean impossibly harder.
He took a deep breath at the sight, imagining his own fingers parting your folds and rubbing at your swollen clit.
“You are a menace,” Dean laughed in obvious distress, licking his dried lips. He couldn’t handle watching you touch yourself without being able to touch you any longer so he looked away, swallowing harshly at the sound of your wetness against your fingers.
“Look at me Dean,” you mewled, continuing to rub your pussy in small quick circles. He turned reluctantly, watching as you slowly pushed two fingers inside your dripping hole. “See this, baby? It’s all for you,” you said, melting into a moan when your fingers grazed a spot inside you that drew your orgasm closer.
“I gotta taste you, baby,” Dean pleaded, “Open these and let me taste you, please,” he rattled the handcuffs against the bedposts.
The pure agony in his voice had your fingers and breathing speeding up and soon your climax was approaching. Dean’s breathing picked up in response. “Fuck, Dean I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, pressing a thumb to your clit while your fingers kept working inside of you to bring you to the edge.
A thin layer of sweat appeared on Dean’s forehead as he watched you keenly. He bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, his self-control draining by the second.
Your eyes remained open and locked onto his, your moans growing louder and borderline pornographic. You were putting on a show and he was losing his mind.
“I’m cumming, fuck-“ you panted as your first orgasm of the night slammed into you and caused you to make a small mess on the sheets beneath you. Your body shook sporadically with aftershocks of your own work
Dean’s head hung low. “Jesus baby,” he huffed, his own voice strangled, “you’re trying to give me a heart attack aren’t you?”
You smiled as you crawled back up to sit on Dean’s lap, taking your thong and throwing them somewhere unseen. “Ehh maybe,” you replied coyly, straightening your hat and mask. “And since you behaved so well,” you reached a hand down to touch his clothed cock, “I think you deserve a reward,” you pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
Dean allowed you to pull his boxers off his body, watching you wrap a hand around his painfully erect cock. “Fuck,” he groaned at the feeling of your hand wrapped around him.
You slid down to where you could lay flat on your stomach between his legs and leaned down to briefly swirl your tongue around where precum was gathered at the tip.
“Take the hat off and look at me pretty girl,” Dean said.
You complied, throwing the hat off to the edge of the bed before diving down and licking his tip once again, but this time keeping your eyes locked onto his.
“Holy shit,” Dean groaned, his hips twitching upwards. You then opened your mouth and wrapped it around his length, slowly sliding down until your nose was nuzzled at the base, staying there for a few seconds before coming back up for air. “Hell yes, baby that's perfect,” he panted as you began sucking faster along his length, a few lone tears flowing from beneath the mask from the familiar stretch of his cock in your throat.
Your head continued to bob up and down Dean’s length for some time, drawing shallow moans of your name and grunts from him before you finally let up and pressed one last kiss against the side of his cock.
Dean’s chest heaved as you licked your lips and used a hand to wipe your face clean. “Goddamnit," he whined at your sudden stop, feeling his impending orgasm return to its hiding place.
You grabbed your previously discarded Zorro hat and placed it back on your head before hiking your skirt up to allow you more room to move your legs around Dean’s lap. “Can’t have you cumming before I’m done with you sweetheart,” you replied while untying the strings of your top and removing it.
The keys to the handcuffs dropped onto Dean’s lap from where you previously hid them in your top. You had honestly forgotten you put them there but it just presented yet another opportunity to get Dean all whiny and desperate, which was a rarity that you rather enjoyed.
“Oops would you look at that,” you exclaimed playfully, taking them up and dangling them in front of Dean’s eyes.
"Alright baby you broke me. Come on, just let me go, and trust me, I will make it worth your while,” Dean bargained with you.
"As enticing as that sounds," you paused and brought your hand up to caress Dean’s cheek before pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. You pulled away with a grin. “I love hearing you beg, so no,” you whispered against his lips.
Dean loudly groaned watching you gently place the keys down on the closest nightstand. “Shit,” he shut his eyes.
But they shortly shot open once you used a hand to grip his length and bring it between your dripping folds.
A pleased hum left your lips once the tip glazed your clit causing Dean to swallow harshly. “Aren’t you sick of teasing me,” he hissed.
Fuck no.
You used a free hand to grip the back of his hair. “Take a deep breath for me, Dean,” you told him, feeling his chest rise against yours soon after. And as it fell, you slipped his cock inside your entrance.
You slowly sank down onto his length until it was fully buried inside you, groaning at the welcomed stretch.
“I love those sounds you make for me,” Dean whispered against your lips.
“Oh you’re gonna be making some of those sounds too,” you smirked, clenching around him causing a sharp grunt to reach your ears.
You guided your hips up and down Dean’s length, riding him at a quickening pace. He jerked his hips upward to match your cadence drawing a gasp from your lips when his cock hit that spot inside you that had you seeing stars. “There you go baby,” Dean groaned, “you look so fucking good riding my cock.”
The hat and mask from your costume managed to stay in place as you slammed down on Dean’s cock repeatedly. And it was an image that he would never forget.
Your hand released Dean’s hair and instead found itself wrapped around Dean’s neck as you rode him faster. A whine that shot straight to your cunt escaped his lips when your fingers slightly tightened their grip around his throat.
You suddenly slowed down and instead began to grind your hips against his, moaning loudly when your clit grazed his pelvis. “I’m gonna cum again shit!” You threw your head back in obscene pleasure, releasing Dean's throat and holding onto his shoulders to steady yourself.
“Fuck yes. Use my cock to get off, sweetheart,” Dean urged you on before leaning forward to suck one of your nipples as best as he could.
This soon pushed you over the edge, your climax tearing a scream from within you as your hips faltered around Dean’s cock, your hat flying off your head once more. Dean relished in the way your cunt pulsed around him from your orgasm as well as the look of sheer pleasure that crossed your face at that moment. “You’re so beautiful,” he smiled up at you, meaning every word.
You kissed his forehead with a smile and reached for the handcuff keys. “I think I’ve tortured you enough,” you freed his right hand first, pressing a kiss against his wrist, then did the same to his left, “This is supposed to be a reward after all.”
Dean’s lips curved into a smirk at his newfound freedom. “Yes it is, sweetheart.”
A surprised yelp left your lips when Dean gripped your hips and flipped you onto your back. He grabbed your hat and placed it on his own head before sending you a wink. “And I’m not feeling rewarded just yet.”
You nearly came just from the sight of Dean hovering above you in only that hat. “We’re gonna have to talk about my sexy cowboy fantasy when we’re done here,” you raised a brow.
A low chuckle echoed from Dean’s chest. He reached up and tipped his hat in your direction, “yes ma’am.” He replied with a deep southern drawl.
Your pussy clenched instantly.
“That was hot as fuck,” you breathed.
“Thank you darlin’ “ he replied in the same accent with a wink.
You giggled before pulling him down for a kiss. He pulled away and touched the mask still wrapped around your eyes. “And thank you for doing this for me, baby,” he smiled down at you, “It was so so much better than I imagined.”
“It was definitely my pleasure,” you nodded happily, feeling his hands glide down your sides.
“Was?” He protested playfully. “The night is still young, sweetheart!” He threw your legs over his shoulder causing you to exclaim at the sudden move. He placed a kiss on each of your thighs and lined himself up with your entrance before entering you once again.
“FUCK” you cried out at the sudden intrusion, feeling your eyes well up with tears of pleasure in record time.
Dean pulled out and slammed into you once again, his grip on your legs tightening as he eased into a quick pace.
“YES-Dean holy shit,” you moaned, eyes quickly rolling to the back of your head and back arching up and off the bed as he fucked you with reckless abandon.
“How’s it feeling baby?” Dean said, bringing a hand down to play with your clit.
“So good, Dean, so fucking good,” you rambled, your skin buzzing with pleasure, “Harder, please, I'm almost there,” you found yourself begging.
“You gonna cum for me already pretty girl?” He sped up his slaughter on your cunt, "Maybe I should make you beg for it?" his voice was low and demeaning but only spurred you on more.
You shook your head adamantly while your hands fumbled around Dean's waist for a solid grip. So he simply released your legs and grabbed your hands before holding them down above your head, driving his cock into you even harder at this new angle.
“Dean!" you broke off into a strangled moan.
Dean’s lips attacked your open neck. “I wish we had neighbors so they could hear you screaming my fucking name,” he all but growled as the sounds of your moans and skin against skin plagued the air.
You came with a yell seconds later, your release coating Dean’s cock and the sheets. “That’s my girl. There you go baby,” he released your hands and held your face, guiding you down from your high.
Your hands gripped Dean’s hair harshly as you kissed his lips and his hips stuttered, his cum coating your insides soon after. You swallowed his grunts as his cock continued to leak and twitch inside you.
Broken pants befell both your lips in between sloppy kisses while your orgasms passed and your shared spend flowed between your legs. You eventually released his lips for air, “That was-“
“-Incredible,” he mirrored your thoughts, removing your hat from his head. Dean used a hand to remove your mask and brush a few strands of hair behind your ears once he moved to lie down beside you.
“Hi,” you grinned in awe of the man you called your husband. “Hey sweetness,” he grinned back, adoration evident in his deep green eyes.
Your cheeks flushed as he pressed a kiss against your forehead. He quickly grabbed his previously discarded t-shirt and used it to clean up the mess between your legs before throwing it in the laundry basket nearby.
You snuggled into his side once he returned to the bed.
“So uhh what was it you were saying about your cowboy kink?” Dean smugly asked after a few seconds.
“Goddamnit Dean,” you shamefully groaned into his side, gaining a chuckle from him.
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ANDDD SCENE!
Hope it wasn't too bad seeing as I gave up on editing it like 75% through it.
Tbh I highly doubt more than 20 people are gonna see this because I have no idea how strong the Supernatural fandom's presence is on here, which also means that I don't know if anyone has used a plot like this one before so don't be afraid to let me know if that is the case and I will make changes as I see fit!
(Also let me know if you want a sequel one shot with sexycowboy! Dean and reader. Or feel free to make any other requests)
Reblogs, likes, and comments are ALWAYS appreciated :)
divider creds : @cafekitsune
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flymetosnarryland · 5 months
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A little progress.
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I'm working on "Infraction." My precious baby, uh. This art is part of it in a way. Eileen Prince and Tobias Snape. When people are falling in love everything seems easy, but then life happen.
(I'd like to talk about how things are going with Infraction.)
I'm back on it since couple of weeks and working on it is intense (my brain is literally boiling). I don't think I ever planned a story for that long. The first idea has born 6th January this year. I was writing down (like crazy) everything I wanted to be in this fic. During first months it was chaotic and messy, but brought me so much joy. When I've had everything that (I thought) I needed, I wrote first chapters, yeah. And then shared them, because was so excited about all of it and just couldn't wait. Gosh.
Now I... hm... well, maybe not "regret" it, but I think, I totally should have wait. Why is that? First thing first, this story is not ready yet for being written in, you know, final version. It's too fat, lol.
I may want too much from it. There is a lot, like, seriously, A LOT of things to cover. First notes took me around 80 pages and it had many gaps in it (too much if you ask me). Things I needed to figure out and fill in, in the same time making everything work together. Because this Snarry is not sprinkled with crime. It's filled with murder, political shenanigans, family shiteshow and tough, not always appropriate, love. There are secrets and lies, blackmails and history that matter. Backstory of many people, whose actions over the years supposed to bring us to the point where we are now. And, you know, all of it gives me the thrill. First time in my life I feel like a true Puppet Master.
So, couple weeks ago I started to write a proper outline, if I can call it like that. To put everything in order and, going from the very beginning, to fill all the gaps. To answer all the questions I was asking myself in notes. To figure out the missing clues, some details without I couldn't go further and with that - to find out how characters will change facing new situations. How they will grow (I really love this part). Sometimes I think, "why am I even doing it?" I could just write some cosy, little fic where Harry and Severus' silly problems would be the main goal of the story. Like, focusing on them should be enough, right? Why am I going for all the other things, if I just want them to shag and have their happy end after all? 😂
Well, if it's not for fun, I don't know the other reason. The level of excitement is just incredible. I don't know, if what I'm writing is good or bad. If it really has sense, because I've always seen myself rather as a potato, not as a great mastermind who can plot some good shite, you know. That said, "Infraction" feels even more challenging that I ever thought it will be. But I feel deep inside that I can do it. Going step by step where the main plan leads and... it just feels good.
I've started in October 1989. Now I'm in January 2011. It means that I managed to finish everything that happen before the fic starts, lol. And, actually, I almost covered the first part of the book. So, two more to go? Hehe. It'll take time, yes. It's crazy how much I want to continue writing the main chapters, not only swim in the plan-phase. Drawing the series of "Muggle London" art helped me a lot with easing this itch. However, it's still there. I know, though, that I have to finish it. The whole outline, I mean. Without it, things can go south.
That said, I can't tell how long it will take. Couple weeks? Maybe months. This is really... a lot of work and I want to be proud of it. Even more so, because this fic means a lot to me. I know it may not be, you know, mind blowing or something. But I hope that giving it all my love, it could be, you know, not that bad for reading, hehe.
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greenerteacups · 3 months
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Hi! Just wanted to say the latest chapter is lovely & amazing & sweet & had me smiling the whole time! I absolutely love your characterisation of everyone, especially Draco, so it was so so lovely to return to this world & to his thoughts!! with his best friend and crush at malfoy manor no less! All the yearning is already off to a great start hehe I am so excited for the rest of book 5!
Wanted to ask you how has it been for you to write this new book and volume? Has your writing process changed since when you’d first begun taking on a long form project like this?
& also are there any moments or surprises in this book that you’re especially excited about?
sending so much love & gratitude for you and your incredible works 💓
Thank you so much! This is really encouraging, I so appreciate it.
Inasmuch as I can use this metaphor without having kids myself, I sort of see each of the books as a different child. The first one flew out in basically a few weeks of very intensive writing, and it was a total dream — plot, pacing, symbolism, major beats, all fell into place basically without effort. The character stuff was the hardest, as I've written about before, but even then, the glorious part of writing beginnings is it's the most energy you'll ever have for a project, so the lows were pretty soft lows. Book 2, in contrast, I had to drag kicking and screaming by its ankle from under the bottommost mattress of my brain. It's one of my least favorite books (tone problem; COS has killer plot/setting/ingredients for a YA novel, but it's stuck in the doldrums of Harry Potter's well-documented Early-Installment Weirdness, before Cedric Diggory slams the gas and upshifts the whole series into its correct age bracket). More specifically, once I'd gone through and picked out everything in the book that happened because of Lucius, I didn't have a plot — hey alexa how do you rewrite Chamber of Secrets when We Got No Fucking Chamber Of Secrets — and oh by the way, even if you want to do a moody tone/political setup book, remember that your protagonists are still twelve, so if you go too dark or too intense, you'll risk torpedoing your readers' suspension of disbelief. Good luck, Charlie.
Book 3 felt the most like its own novel, if that makes sense? It's the last truly feel-good book of the series; it's a great stand-alone mystery novel with relatively low stakes. Plus you get a bunch of the big series icons: patronuses, dementors, werewolves, Hogsmeade, the Marauders' Map, and time turners arithmancy. It just felt like a good old-fashioned motherfucking romp of a mystery/adventure story, before any of the complex character work and major stakes of the late books come in.
Book 4 was the most fun I've had writing anything maybe ever. I don't even know what it was. Maybe the tournament arc, honestly? Love me a tournament arc. But in any case, I opened every new chapter feeling a tingle of excitement for what I was gonna get to do. Oh, and the romance started, finally, Jesus God (if it feels like a slow burn reading, just imagine what it felt like writing it, when everything takes ten times as long, and you have to figure out how to word the fucker.)
Book 5, in contrast, has felt much less like that tingle of "here we go!" and more like "oh, man, this is gonna be cool." Because this is the arc of the story that composed the original idea for Lionheart, literally years ago, and to be honest, I didn't think I'd get this far! If you'd asked me "do you know that it's going to take you 500,000 words of backstory before you can start writing that concept you're thinking about, and you're going to do it anyway?" I would have said: "absolutely not, strange mind-reader!" But like... I'm here! Finally! And it's... real now? Like, this isn't just a bunch of clips of scenes in my head anymore! That's rad!
That being said, it's definitely been slower than Book 4, because I kept switching back to my outline document to make sure that certain things were set up properly, and that I hadn't lost any of the plot threads or forgotten a minor beat that was vitally important for the story three chapters later. And I had a minor crisis about three months ago when I ripped out about 8 chapters in the first third of the book — basically everything from September to December — because I'd done a readthrough to check pacing (big mistake! never edit while drafting, that's satan talking) and realized I had a missing storyline. Like, there was a whole layer of the story that was just. Missing. Not there. And the existing text really couldn't fit another thread, so instead of taking weeks to pore through and try to sift out what I could save, I needed to factory reset and start over. And I didn't want to! I vividly remember sitting there with my head in my hands, trying not to weep, because I'd decimated 90,000 words of work in a single edit. But it had to be done. Because the story wasn't going to work. And now (hopefully) it will.
And of course, there's still that sense of excitement and exhilaration from before. Always. But whereas Book 4 felt like a delicious chocolate pudding, Book 5 is a medium-rare steak.
(Book 6, so far, is four shots of espresso and a whiskey chaser. FWIW.)
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lets-try-some-writing · 2 months
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I saw someone else ask about Transformers Animated and you said you had something in the works for it, mind if I ask about what it is? I know you do most of your work for Prime, but I would love to see what you have in mind.
It's been a LONG time since I've thought about animated. I don't think I have the drafts I wrote up for my various thoughts when I first watched the show anymore.
BUT I think I remember a few of the premises I came up with at the time.
Days of Old: Cybertron has long forgotten its history. The Autobots are all puppets of the Quintessons, although they are not aware of it. Only the Decepticons remember when their people were free, and even their memory is warped. The Allspark was taken from its place, the people have been physically altered to match what the Quintessons wanted. Nothing is as it should be.
Primus is not pleased, and he refuses to allow his holy stations to be corrupted. Thus he has returned one of his first creations to Cybertron to wield the Matrix and put things back the way they were.
Author's note: This concept would be a way to warp TFP elements into the animated universe. I personally imagine it is set in an alternate universe where the Quintessons never left and so continued to change Cybertronians to their liking. This way old TFP lore can still apply and certain world rules can still come into play. I also just liked the idea of young Optimus slowly remembering how the world used to be. It gives him an excuse to ally with the Decepticons since they are, essentially, a living remnant of the old world.
I don't know I just wanted lore so I made an excuse for lore.
Death Korps: The Primes aren't just high ranking generals, they are also absolutely insane. The most indoctrinated out of all of Cybertron's citizens, the Primes are raised from youth to fulfill the role of fanatic soldiers. They throw their lives away willingly if it is for the greater good and tolerate absolutely zero disrespect toward the Council. Imagine how things go when one disgraced Prime is saddled with a suicide mission and a team of heretics who don't give a flying frag about the government and its rules.
Megatron is going to have his hands full working to open the optics of one fanatic Prime, an exiled medical officer, two recruits who simply couldn't be indoctrinated, and a ninja who fled from the government sanctioned reprograming he was meant to undergo.
Author's note: I liked the idea of each of the team showcasing a different aspect of Cybertron's corruption. Optimus the religious fanatic. Ratchet the war vet who knew too much and thus was silenced. Bumblebee and Bulkhead who were born with the rare mutation that makes it impossible to be forcefully indoctrinated. And good ol Prowl who is one of the few with enough brain cells to get the heck out of dodge before he underwent what might as well be shadowplay.
The plot of this potential fic would follow Megatron's efforts to get these Autobots on his side. Primes aren't just fanatics, they are high ranking generals. They know things. If he can get to that knowledge, Megatron can win. But due to the fanatics that are the Primes, its not like torture will do anything. That means trust is the only avenue.
Warframes: The team are not what they seem. Megatron has begun to see it now that the Autobots on Earth aren't being pumped full of whatever Cybertron puts in its energon. They are growing, getting taller, stronger, and more aggressive. They don't seem to notice the changes, but Megatron is seeing it and he is enraged.
Vorns upon vorns ago the Council stole hundreds of Decepticon sparklings to make up for the lack of newsparks on their own side. They were considered dead, a lost cause. But seeing the team on Earth, Megatron now has a far greater fear. What in Primus's name are the Council planning to do with a bunch of warframes?
Author's note: Aka: the Cons now have a very VERY good reason to be extra pissed with the Autobots. Hundreds of their sparklings all stolen and each forced to remain on suppressors until the Council decides that its time to turn them into the super soldiers they need. In this particular idea, Ratchet SHOULD have been keeping the team on their suppressors and Prowl SHOULD have been ensuring that their civilian social coding was up to snuff. But neither have been doing that, and thus the three youngest bots on the team are coming into their own.
I imagine that at least one of the three are directly related to a high ranking Con. That way the beef can be REAL and PERSONAL.
I have some other ideas as well, but I will need to put them in a separate post I think since they are more one shot material than anything else. Let is be known, I wasn't actually the biggest fan of animated, but I loved the POTENTIAL it threw out for fic writers.
Please let me know if any of these appeal :) I will gladly write for one of them if I get a request for it.
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i don't think i've ever said this about choices before but wow this really was the ladies' chapter and i for one am thrilled. we didn't get a lot of imtura as usual but what we did get I was very happy with. i've said this before but i'm loving seeing imtura growing more confident (more than she was in book 1, even) and stepping into the leadership role she was always perfect for but never confident enough to really take. of course she was the wraith's captain but i think this is the first time we're seeing imtura really plan in detail what they're going to do, take charge of the group. she's not asking and she's not apologetic but not imposing either, listening to ideas and adjusting accordingly. she's a great leader and it's so nice to see her really grow into that role, especially since her main conflict in book 2 has been about feeling like she's not good enough to be anything other than the brawns. she has 100% been the brains of the team these last few chapters, and she doesn't even seem to realize she's doing it. it's great to see. i'm also liking seeing her slowly repair her dynamic with mal. i've written before about how mal and imtura have always been the only ones who get each other in the group, and how falling out must have been devastating to both of them. and now we're starting to see them slowly fall back into their groove, teasing each other but still with a lot of respect, and slowly starting to get over the hurt they both put on each other. although i wish it was being addressed more directly, i'm still loving it. and of course, their consistent reminders that her most important value is equality - you share the wealth, share the food, take care of each other. that's the kind of leader she is, in direct opposition of her mother who wished to centralize everything and institute hierarchy. imtura is an orc to the bone, free and strong but caring and believing in equality, and i love seeing that being consitently shown these last few chapters. also, her dancing scene was so fucking sweet
valax is simply the love of my life. and we got TWO separate chances to make out with her. the world is a beautiful place. but more than that, we are getting to know her better, and reconcile the valax we first met with the valax we saw at ironbreach. i like how they're not at odds, and although there's the obvious, well, brainwashing aspect, she is violent because she's kind and cares about her people. by which i mean lines like this:
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it's not at all unlike what MC is doing. as much as everyone MC kills or incapacitates or whatever is some faceless rando, they're still essentialy waging war for what they believe in. and i like that. as i've said before, my favorite thing about blades 2 is how it's been unraveling all of the myths from book 1, showing the other side. history is written by the victors and all that, and i think book 2 is really showing how it's important to question those nationalistic myths where everything on your side is good, the other is bad, etc. and valax telling us about how the Light Realm fucked the Shadow Realm over adds to that, which makes valax an important part of the plot not only as a villain or potential love interest but also as an important source of information about the worldbuilding and what the other side is like. at the same time, we got to see her being conflicted - admitting that she's naive, starting to question the state of the army, betraying MC but also apologizing for it - and just overall a complex person/villain. we got more backstory, more of her motivations, more glimpses of Shadow Realm history, truly we got everything from valax this chapter
i also love how her betrayal was not only inevitable but also due to a fundamental flaw in nia's plan: assuming valax would choose self-preservation over completing her mission and helping her people. it'd be a safe bet to make with pretty much anyone else, but we've seen enough of valax to know that it definitely doesn't apply to her - she has never lived for herself, she doesn't exist for herself, and so she was always going to bid her time until she could go through the pain to complete the mission. that might be the most fundamental part of her character, and it is both shown very well and given even more important narrative weight in this scene
and at the risk of sounding like a hater, this was the first chapter where i truly felt like they were going somewhere interesting with nia's arc. i have a lot of sympathy for her book 1 arc - realizing she has been groomed, trying to reclaim her faith - but she still has always kind of felt one dimensional to me. this chapter was the first time we got to see more of nia; we even had it be implied that at least part of her always being cheery and put-together is a facade. more than just turning her back on the temple this is the first time she is turning her back on the shitty parts of what they taught her - that she doesn't matter, that she lives only for the light, that she can't have needs and desires of her own. all in all, she needs catharsis, and if it's the shadow form that gives her that, then cheers! but regardless of how you feel about shadow!nia i think we can agree that it's giving us more and better glimpses into nia as a character who feels a lot of pain and immense pressure to be good while also trying to figure out which parts of her upbringing she needs to unlearn and which she gets to keep, deal with the grief of losing MC and watching her friend group fall apart, and trying to be a rock for them through it all, then immediately dealing with another world-shattering threat while also trying to hide a part of her for a good portion of it. i've seen a lot f people complain about how no one noticed shadow!nia before and MC was forced to keep that secret but i think it's a good analogy to how there are parts of nia that no one sees, that she tried so hard to suppress they were bound to take over her eventually. nia is more than a bubbly born sexy yesterday sweet girl and i'm delighted to see that being acknowledged
so, yeah. the ladies' chapter. loved it
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ravixen · 1 year
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svt + actor!s/o's on-screen kiss (pt 2)
➔ reaction || not requested || actor!au || (most of) 96 line
➔ warnings: none || 683 words ➔ notes: fluff, actor!y/n ; I've been outlining a seokmin romcom series lately (between adult life things), but here!! have this :) maybe i need to sort out a new posting schedule haha
JUNHUI: he literally filmed a romcom himself—he knows how to separate a script from reality. you actually ask him for advice because you're worried that the camera will pick up your nerves and ruin the chemistry you've built up with your co-star. junhui hums, tapping absently on his phone as he considers. "maybe talk to them about this?" he suggests. "aren't they a new actor? they might be worrying about it, too. you can hang out more between takes. the more comfortable you feel, the less awkward it is." and after some thinking, you take his advice to heart, dropping by your co-star's trailer the next morning to chat. it's a good thing you did because they huff a sigh of relief, saying that they were struggling to approach you about this, too. "it's also awkward because, y'know," they say, waving a hand, "you have a famous boyfriend. i don't want things to be weird. he's pretty cool. i mean, is he the type to get jealous?" you laugh at that and relay the information to said boyfriend, who blinks at you, strangely flattered. junhui ends up coming on set to get to know your co-star and he brought a snack truck, so now everyone loves him, but you're trying to make him leave because you feel shy. he insists on seeing you in your element, but you've never performed with him watching like this before...
SOONYOUNG: he actually finds out about the kiss scene before you do because he overhears some writers talking about it backstage. he's standing by the water cooler, minding his own business, when someone mentions your name and it piques his interest. he edges closer. they're discussing how there's more chemistry than they expected between you and your co-star. with the viewers actively shipping you two and the plot progressing so naturally, it wouldn't be weird to throw in a kiss scene—responding to audience feedback is the advantage of not pre-filming. they won't write in a whole love line because it'll ruin the premise, but a kiss would be enough to go viral, so one of the older writers pitches an idea that's so old-fashioned that soonyoung actually scoffs. "that's a waste of both their talents," he mutters before he can catch himself, and he flushes when they all turn to him. they're the professionals, not him. they're better at writing. they're also better at keeping secrets because as soon as he sees you, he blurts out what he heard. "i've never done a kiss scene before," you say hesitantly. "so? you're good at your job. you're going to kill it." you never thought your boyfriend would be hyping you up to kiss someone else, but it's kind of a funny image.
WONWOO: you didn't tell him about the kiss scene. oh my god, he totally didn't know about it because he insisted on no spoilers, and now he's completely blindsided by this journalist's question. he can see the headlines now: trouble in paradise? our lovebirds no longer talking, followed by a screenshot of his caught-in-headlights expression and a screenshot of your movie. he actually doesn't care that you had a kiss scene, not in the way that the articles are going to insinuate at least, but his brain is struggling to wiggle its way out of this situation. luckily, the ever quick jeonghan lifts his microphone and laughs. "that's a spoiler," jeonghan says, voice thick with amused charm. "poor wonwoo spent the past few months avoiding every detail of this movie to watch it with fresh eyes, and you just ruined it with one sentence. he blacklisted every mention of the movie, made us skip ads for him, even muted his partner on instagram to avoid promotional pictures." the more jeonghan talks, the more absurd it sounds, but his diversion works because now the journalists are chuckling and moving on. just to squash any lingering rumors, he goes to see your movie with you the next day, posting a proof photo about how his spoiler-free isolation has ended.
JIHOON: posted in part 1!
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theonevoice · 6 months
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Rumination n. 7 - The Stain
I am about to say something outrageous, but this scene is haunting me and I need to take it out of my obsessive brain.
We all have been thinking about the (not so) slightly maniacal, sphinx-like smile that appears on Aziraphale's face at the very end of e6 end credits, and how it seems to suggest that something is brewing inside the angel's head.
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But this is not the scene that is haunting me. It's this one:
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Now, like many of us, I've been toying with possible scenarios involving the Metatron and the threat of the Book of Life, and I want to take a moment to say something up top: I have mixed feelings about the Book of Life as a thing. Not just because we don't know anything about how it actually works and, if we want to be punctilous, we don't even have undisputable confirmation that it exists and it's not in fact a myth that the Heaven-regime has spread in order to keep everyone in check (that Heaven has regime-like strategies for controlling its ranks, possibly even before the Fall, it's clear by the appalling callousness of the Metatron saying "For one Prince of Heaven to be cast into the outer darkness makes a good story", meaning a story that works as an effective cautionary tale). But most of all because this all-encompassing Book of Life seems to me like the kind of overpowered magic-object-ex-machina plot device that can really break a narrative, and I am willing to accept it only because I trust Neil Gaiman entirely. Also, I have a feeling that, on a metaphorical level, the prospect of being "erased from the Book of Life" has already happened, in a way (but that's matter for a different rumination).
That said, I am wondering if it's Aziraphale the one we should be worrying about. Mr "I would always know the stain was there", aka fixing something is not enough, the preferable solution is to make sure that the bad thing never happened in the first place, so its memory will not haunt you, its remaining smudge will not darken the perfect picture that you want your existence to be.
I am wondering if that creepy smile means that he is planning to steal the Book of Life, like several metas and fics imagined, but not to keep himself and Crowley safe: he could be planning to steal it in order to undo the Fall.
And sure, that would mean erasing the 6000 years of his and Crowley's history together, and nobody in his right mind would do that - but is Aziraphale in his right mind? When he steps into the elevator, he is as broken as Crowley is, and possibly more, because in addition to their relationship crumbling into dust, he also has to deal with the pull of his desire to bring into reality the idealized version of Heaven that he has always hoped for.
He is shattered. He has lost Crowley, has lost his bookshop, has lost Earth. He is involved against his will in the Second Coming plans. He's hyperventilating as the elevator goes up, shoulders and chest struggling to find air - is on the verge of a panick attack. He is in the mindset of someone who is feeling his entire existence slipping away under his feet at lightspeed, not knowing how or why, not a split second to realise what is happening.
It's not impossible, when you are in such a state, to shut down and cling to one and only one thought: how do I undo this?
It's not impossible, if you are in the middle of a traumatic response, to fixate on finding the single, cursed, wrong turn that sent you down the path that lead you in this place of devastating pain and fear, obsessing over the idea that if you can correct that one error, everything will be fine again. Because you just cannot process the idea that what happened is destined to stay "happened": it's just too big and too wrong and too unthinkable to become a part of your biography like all events before that - as per the definition of trauma by Judith Herman.
You cannot reconcile it with the rest of your life, you enter in a state of mind that denies reality and treats it like a a gamer would treat a mission that he messed up between to saving points: yes, it sucks, but nothing to worry about, you just go back in time and this time do things the right way. You just need to identify where you went wrong.
This is, I think, the place where Aziraphale's mind is in the final scene.
"What have I done wrong? Where did I do the wrong thing? When did I say the wrong word? What incident brought us here? How could this happen if I love you so much? Why would you shout and be angry at me if I love you so much? What evil force could prevent you from seeing that I love you so much? This is all a mistake. How can we not be together right now if I love you so much? How can the fact of us being separated exist in the same world where I love you so much? This must be a mistake. What is it that I need to undo to save us, our dream? To make the error and all this pain go away? If only I could find the mistake, the single bad thing that threw a monkey wrench into our happiness..."
But he cannot find one single moment in their long history together that stands out as "the" mistake to blame for what just happened, and he keeps going back and back and back, looking for "the" thing that ruined their plans.
If only we were not on opposite sides.
I think that, right now, in Aziraphale's head, the one original error that lead him to lose the love of his life is the Fall. It's the initial irreparable fracture that ripped in half the angelic population of the beginning and made impossible for the two parts to be together ever again.
Of course Crowley did and could not want to be "restored" to his former angelic status, he can see why, he's not blind. And probably he's more than ready to recognize that Crowley is right in refusing that offer. The proposal was wrong in the first place. The solution to all their problems isn't making Crowley not a demon anymore, it's making sure that there were no demons to begin with.
"If I'm in charge, I can make a difference."
I can make a different ending for this scene that just went horribly wrong. I can make a different reality where this horrible moment could never happen.
And if this is what is going through his head, his next task - and Crowley's mission - will be to accept that sometimes there is no undoing. You can either find a way to patch things up and find the right path again, or stay broken and astray. But either way you will have to come to terms with the fact that some mistakes cannot be undone, and the bad things that happened cannot be erased. You can only learn to live with them, accomodate their painful memory in your existence, accept the presence of a stain that will always be there, underneath.
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brandnewhuman · 7 months
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Upon seeing the new ghost zombie skin I've drawn some angsty conclusions AND YOU ALL WILL HEAR ME OUT.
Ngl broskies, this one hurts me too FR FR. From the trailer it almost looks as if he's still sentient (I could be wrong but compared to the other zombies in the trailer he still acts very much like his human self) which makes sense with Simon's survival pattern in life. He's always the one that remains, the one that outlives everyone else, the man who neither himself or others can get rid of.
It's so tragic to think that beneath all the stuff the body undergoes when you get zombified, he's still there and he can see and feel everything but can't do anything to stop it. I think what hurts him the most is not just the fact that he's losing himself but that, like I said, yet again he's forced to outlive everyone.
Now, I don't know much about the codmw lore (AND BEFORE YOU COME HERE AND START FLEXING YOUR KNOWLEDGE, JUST KNOW IM NOT GONNA CHOOSE PEACE) but for what I know soap, in the original timeline, died and roach and a bunch of Simon's teammates too. With that in mind, I imagine that if he's a zombie and, taking a few creative liberties here, this zombie timeline could be placed a little bit before mw3 where everyone fucking expires then babyboy here is really going through it.
He's a monster now, and not in the "I feel like a monster because I think of myself that badly" no. He's quite literally a fucking rotting corpse walking and running around at full speed, body slamming the shit out of everyone. He has lost his friends, he has possibly had to watch that happen and once again, just like with his family, he couldn't do anything to prevent it and somehow ends up being the only survivor.
There's no amount of therapy that could ever fix that fucking shit bro, like he's doomed to real life plot armour where it doesn't work in his favour but instead just takes away everything and everyone he cares about. And now, even if he manages to gaslight himself into thinking he could make it work for once, that he could fr be happy with the next person that enters his life, he still wouldn't be able to be with them cause now he's a fucking zombie.
My brain likes to torture me with the thought that him retaining his self awareness and stuff wasn't on purpose and surely wasn't his choice, that the way the infection works on him is different. He feels so tired of dragging around his body and the mental tool it takes on him makes everything so hard. I could actually see him just deciding to cave in to the need of just...letting go, like to stop holding onto whatever is making him sentient and just kind of die inside his mind (?) Idk if it makes sense but since he can't physically die he would be content with just kind of switching himself off.
That's it. That's my painful brain fart for you to enjoy and suffer with. Unfortunately I can't pay for anyone's therapy, you are free to end my existence instead.
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bleeding-hart · 5 days
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visuals for the marauders
putting this here so I have a reference later when I'm actually writing and posting the fanfic (rn I just have a good chunk plotted out and some scenes in my brain). Also including their pronouns so it makes a little more sense. For their clothing, it's just their choices when they don't have to wear the school uniform (I hate the uniform deeply imo no one looks as hot in robes). I am taking artistic license with their designs bc I can make them look better than their canon designs do easily. If I said something contradicting these earlier, ignore it, I've got shit memory and adhd.
Sirius (he/they/she): long hair, one of those really queer nonbinary bun type things? She wears half goth half casual punk clothing stuff (like fishnet shirts under sleeveless black hoodies/ corsets with leather band jackets, etc. Definitely a spikey black boots/spiked collar type person). Decently pale skin and really dark blueish eyes, like the night sky right before it fades to black or the sea during a thunderstorm. They do their own piercings which has given them more than one infection, but he does have some successful ones (nose bridge, eyebrow, lots of ear stuff, and snakebites). Remus will insist to do it for them if he knows that she has a new idea, and he's significantly safer about them.
Remus (he/they? He/him? Somewhat cis but has a complicated relationship with gender): short golden brown hair that's in a barely noticeably mullet style. Nostril piercing (Sirius said it would look good on him so he did it). Warm-toned light brown skin with a lot of freckles that you generally can't see, dark amber eyes. Dresses for comfort over style, which usually means t-shirts, sweatpants and beat up old sneakers. Their only very noticeable scar on their face is one over their lips and chin. They have more, but the others are more skin toned.
Peter (he/they, sometimes it): generally very cute, light skin with some freckles and messy wavy blonde hair, pale sky blue eyes. Sirius is trying to convince him to let them give him snakebites but he's very on the fence about it (he barely even wears makeup so he isn't the most adventurous about that stuff). Thick/long lashes. Tends to wear muted neutral colors. The only jewelery that he's consistent about is a leather bracelet he always has on his left wrist. Tries to not be visually noticeable, tends to hang around the back of the friend group and let the others get all the attention.
James (he/him probably): longer curly/wavy dark brown queer mullet (tboy energy) and warm brown skin. Dark golden toned brown eyes. People tend to think he and Remus are cousins or something which he thinks is really funny (he's definitely turned around and started making out with him for as a bit when someone asks them if they're related). Usually wears brown dyed or bleached jeans and reddish-brown/brown/green-brown/yellow t shirts and tops for the cohesive and effortless energy. Paints his nails bright colors whenever he can as a contrast to Sirius's chronically flaking black nail polish. Has his lobes pierced but usually just wears gold studs. Wears gold bands around his biceps so he can flex when he wins a quiddich (<- I did not check how to spell that, you know what I mean) match
Regulus (he/him): he prefers to wear more formal clothing because that's what he was raised doing and the layers help him cover up any raised areas on his binder, but when that isn't an option/he's too depressed to do anything fancy, he wears black hoodies that are significantly too large for him (barty or evan's usually). Makeup tends to give hm dysphoria, but he always fills in his eyebrows and he'll put eyeliner on his waterline when he's going to an actual event. He pierced his tongue as an act of rebellion when he was younger and now he just fidgets with it a lot, other than that he just has his lobes done (he got them as a newborn) and he always leaves them empty in hopes that they'll seal up.
I know what the others look like but this is long enough as is haha
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