#but like no matter the roles they end up playing

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Actor

The Golden Age of Hollywood. Stars are born every day and you're desperate to become one. Thanks to @laboodanda for requesting this!

Yandere! Actor who's well established in the industry - his name on the Walk of Fame, his face on all the posters, his agents calling day and night with new offers.

Yandere! Actor who meets you on the set of his latest movie. You're barely even part of the main cast - just a side character with a few lines. But you sparkle.

You have that razzle dazzle in you that makes a true star.

Yandere! Actor who knows it's just a matter of time before you make it big. You've already got your foot in the door and all it takes is a lucky break.

Yandere! Actor who comes up to talk to you during lunch, winks at you and grins at the way you blush. You're in awe of him and it takes a second before you can answer his questions.

Yandere! Actor who's used to starstruck fans, to women who shriek when he looks their way. But, it's somehow new and endearing when you're the one looking at him like that.

He can hear the other extras rushing to your side when he leaves, babbling about how lucky you are that he talked to you, the big stars never notice the little fish.

On the final day of filming, he congratulates you on your first ever role and invites you to dinner to celebrate.

Yandere! Actor who takes you to a cozy restaurant in a quiet seaside neighbourhood. He doesn't want to be interrupted by fans, but he also doesn't want to be seen in public with you. At least not yet.

You really impress him. You know quite a lot about acting techniques, about getting into and maintaining character, about catering to the camera.

But it's clear you're still a rookie. There's a slight nervousness to you that veteran starletts don't have. It's alright - he'll train it out of you in no time.

Yandere! Actor who shares he milkshake with you and offers you his jacket when the sea wind starts to nip.

When he drops you off, he squeezes your thigh and says he'll talk to his agent about you, that there might be a role in his next movie for such a pretty little thing.

Yandere! Actor who sees the innocent, love struck look in your eyes and revels in it.

Pretty soon he calls you and tells you about a private audition with some studio execs.

"Keep your hair loose and wear that short sundress you wore on our date."

It should be friendly advice, so why does it sound like an order?

The audition is in one of the studio's offices. A room filled with big shot executives and egotistical directors. Men in suits who are high on their own power, their own genius. They've seen a thousand hopeful girls and to them you're no different.

The way they look at you makes you feel like dirt, like the most untalented person in the whole world. You would have walked out then and there if it wasn't for him.

Yandere! Actor who volunteers to read the lines with you. He winks and smiles at you and by just being there makes you feel so much better. And a few sentences in, you find your stride. Immerse yourself in the scene.

You're playing the part of a jilted lover, a woman who gave everything to her man and has her heart shattered when he leaves. In the final act, you grab his collar and look up at him with tears in your eyes, your voice shaking.

"Please, please don't go. I love you. I need you."

You raise one hand to his cheek, your fingers trembling. "Don't you love me too?"

Yandere! Actor who actually forgets his line.

You're looking up at him so weak, so vulnerable that his mind goes blank. His director calls out the line and he repeats it blankly.

"And...End scene!"

Yandere! Actor who doesn't look away from you even when the directors start clapping and you turn to give them a bow. You were so raw that it didn't feel like a performance. The tears, the desperate way you pulled at him... It felt so real.

It's only when his agent slaps him on the back that he manages to snap out of it.

The director is already grabbing your arm and insisting to the studio executives that he needs you in his next movie.

Yandere! Actor who comes up behind you and drapes his arms around your shoulders. You don't realise it but he's staking his claim, showing all these rich and powerful men that anything to do with you has to go through him. He grins at his agent.

"She's perfect, isn't she?"

The man lowers his shades and drags his eyes across your body.

"You need to clean up her look a little, but you were right. She's the perfect girl for you."

You feel like there's more behind their conversation, things they've discussed that you aren't privy to. But you don't have the nerve to ask.

On your way out of the studio, Yandere! Actor curls his arm around your waist.

"You're gonna be a lead actress soon baby. The execs want you in a few supporting roles first, just to get you used to the camera, but the director has his mind set on you."

You smile at him, a megawatt grin filled with the thrill of having your dream come true. It makes him feel like the centre of your world, makes him feel like a man.

You throw your arms around his neck and hug him. "I owe you! Thank you thank you thank you thank -"

He cuts you off with a kiss. And in that moment you really do feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Yandere! Actor who slowly takes over your beauty routine. Who tells your hairdresser exactly what shade to tint your hair, exactly what shape to thread your eyebrows. Who buys you new clothes and tells you exactly how to style them.

You don't realise it, but he's shaping your look into something that compliments his own.

Yandere! Actor who almost invites you to his movie premiere until his agent advises against it. Who kisses you and apologises and says he'll bring you to the next one.

You understand, you really do. You're still relatively unknown and having you on his arm would just invite gossip. But it still stings watching him go to the premier on his own, his arm around his beautiful co-star. You go to bed that night with doubts nagging at your mind.

It's only when you hear him knocking at your door at three in the morning that your insecurities go silent.

Yandere! Actor who's still wearing his tuxedo from the red carpet. His hair falling out of its slicked back style as he dangles a bottle of champagne in front of you.

"Gotta celebrate with my girl."

He's barely three steps into your apartment before he's kissing you, his hands on your waist and dropping lower.

You try and push him away. Tell him it's your first time.

Yandere! Actor who nips at your neck. "Don't worry, 'm gonna be so gentle."

When you still try and slip away, he pulls back to look in your eyes. Despite the haze of alcohol, there's something piercing about the way he looks at you.

"How many girls can say their first time was with a Hollywood star?"

Yandere! Actor who let's his fingers climb higher up your thighs.

"I've been workin' so hard to make you an actress. Don't I get a reward?"

How are you supposed to say no to a man who holds your future in his palm? You nod your head just the slightest and he's back to kissing you, back to drawing you hands to his belt, back to growling in your ear.

Yandere! Actor who's a shameless liar. He isn't gentle with you at all.

Yandere! Actor who wakes up all groggy and hungover the next morning. Who pulls you closer to him and falls asleep again with his head on your chest. You look down at his dark hair and his chiseled features and for a little while, it doesn't feel like such a bad deal. Love him in exchange for a career.

And he is so easy to love.

Yandere! Actor who encourages the director to start filming your movie as soon as possible. A romance between a thief (you, in your very first lead role) and a jaded detective with a heart of gold (him, who's had so many lead roles he's lost count).

The schedule is gruelling and the director is a tyrant, but this is your big break. You give it everything you have. You learn the script inside and out, badger the screen writer until she discusses your character arc with you, follow the director around and beg him for tips.

Yandere! Actor who adores working with you. You're sweet and pliable and the chemistry between you is sizzling. Every scene with you makes him need a cold shower and a priestly intervention.

Yandere! Actor who pulls you into his trailer every chance he gets to "read lines." But it always ends with him holding you down and kissing you, claiming it's good practice for the camera.

"Character building," he pants from between your legs. "Just getting into the mindset."

Yandere! Actor who watches with satisfaction as the movie comes along. You remind him of himself when he just started, raw talent and a burning desire to please.

Yandere! Actor who is next to you every moment he isn't needed on set. Who gives you endless advice and makes you laugh with his stories about bad takes and wardrobe malfunctions.

Part of it is to keep an eye on you - there's a jealous bit inside him that thinks of you as his creation, your talent a reflection of his training - and part of it is to spark rumours.

It works exactly as he intends. Pretty soon the magazines and radio hosts are blabbering about a possible romance between him and his relatively unknown co-star.

Yandere! Actor who's determined to make this movie a success. On the premier night, he walks down the red carpet with his arm around your waist. When the cameras are at the height of their flashing, he takes your chin in his hand and kisses you.

The next morning, the papers are raving about it and the theatres are sold out before midday.

It's a critical and commercial success. Yandere! Actor who's high on the thrill of it. Who loves driving down Hollywood Boulevard and seeing you on the billboards, who loves having Hollywood's newest darling on his arm and in his bed.

But then the letters start coming.

Yandere! Actor who snarls at the piles and piles of fan mail you receive. Maybe, if it was all innocent praise, he could have accepted it. But most of the letters are absolutely filthy.

Men writing to you from all over the country, all over the world. Describing in detail all the things they want to do to you, all the ways they want you speared on their cocks. Men who promise to treat you so sweet you'd never want to leave them and men who threaten to whip you over their knee if you don't learn to say please when they fuck you.

Yandere! Actor who's never received mail with such perversion. His fans are mostly sweet young girls who timidly describe how nice it would be to find a man like him, to get taken to prom and courted.

Yandere! Actor who becomes suspicious of every man he sees. The gaffer that looks at you too long becomes the guy who promised to find you and fill your cunt with his come. The driver who holds your hand when you climb out of the car becomes the stalker who followed you home the other night.

Yandere! Actor who keeps his arm around you whenever you're outside. Who starts keeping his gun in the glove box of his car.

It's not only strangers he needs to worry about either. The studio executives keep pressuring you with stricter and stricter contract offers. The director wants you starring in a romance role with another man. Two dozen talent agencies are crawling over glass to try and sign you.

Yandere! Actor who tells you to let him handle the contracts and paper work.

"The bastards will try and trick you out of your money and your clothes. Trust me baby, I've had to deal with plenty of shitty deals. I don't want that for you."

Yandere! Actor who knows exactly how tightly binding a contract is. And it's no coincidence that the one he has you sign binds your career almost entirely to his. It ensures that the bulk of your roles are alongside him, that he has the final say in studio disputes, that he owns the rights to your name.

The studio executives might normally never sign a deal like that, but they're desperate to get you under contract. You're a blazing star and they aren't going to lose you to a competitor.

Yandere! Actor who drinks a toast to your success and kisses you infront of all those high flying executives. Despite all the attention and awards you've earned, you still look up at him with a blind sort of hero worship. He's the goal you've always aimed for, the standard you've tried to reach. To be his girl is still so dizzying you almost can't believe it.

In bed that night, Yandere! Actor thinks about proposing, about wifing you up. The wedding would be huge, generate massive press. His next big project with you is scheduled for half a year away. Maybe do a proposal during opening night? Or better yet, at the Academy Awards? Yeah, that would get cinemas sold out even faster than kissing you on the red carpet did.

Save the wedding for a few years down the line. When your career is more established and your image might need an upgrade.

You curl against his side and moan in your sleep, brow scrunched. Cute, naive little thing, aren't you? Hollywood would swallow you up and spit you out if it wasn't for him.

Yandere! Actor who kisses your forehead as you dream about cameras and lights and action.

"Don't worry baby, I'll take extra good care of you."

Yandere! Actor who's curated his image so carefully. Who wants a girlfriend who's light and talent make him shine all the brighter.

And who better than someone who owes him her career?

Extra!! Here's a short drabble I wrote when I was brainstorming the idea with @laboodanda

[mclacedes]

Father Complex (LH44)

summary: in which lewis is your slightly older boyfriend and it reminds you of your father

wc: 2.5k

warnings: fluffy, angsty, daddy issues (freud mention), bad family dynamics mention

a/n1: i'm obsessed with writing lewis recently so here's a little something... also, sorry for the amount of age gap in this blog, i'm also obsessed with that :)

a/n2: also... HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEWIS

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A long time ago, a guy named Freud, often dubbed as the father of psychoanalysis, came up with this idea he called "the father complex." Basically, it says that the need for approval from an absent father sticks around into adulthood, leading into some questionable relationship decisions.

You frequently—although sporadically—thought about that when you looked at him: Lewis.

That was the man with whom you found entangled in the hush of summer nights because he kept finding his way into your bed.

That Ferrari driver who's got 7 (or maybe 8) championships under his belt.

The man whose arms held you tight when you sought solace; whose fingers would melt into your skin when your walls wrapped around his flesh just right.

His eyes had seen the world long before yours—16 years before, to be precise. He’d raced through continents, dealt with pressures you could only imagine, and faced challenges that would make most people crumble whilst you were in your mother’s womb.

And yet, here he was, playing his role perfectly and being the boyfriend you had dreamed of for so long—cooking for you, looking after you, making you feel like the most important person in the world.

In those moments, it was as if the years between you disappeared, as if the world outside didn’t exist. All that mattered was the quiet, stolen time you shared, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, letting everything else fade into white noise.

Tonight, Lewis had cooked your favorite meal, a perfect blend of comfort and decadence, all while he indulged in white wine. The rich aroma of garlic and herbs lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of the beverage he kept sipping on between stirring the sauce.

He absolutely fell in love with what he had ended up with, and smiled to himself. There was something undeniably satisfying about getting everything just the you liked—the way you always smiled at the meal he carefully plated, the way your eyes would light up when you tasted the flavors, as if it was a secret he only confided in you. And in those moments, when he saw that little spark of happiness in your eyes, it felt like all his worries melted away.

He left the kitchen, drying his hands on a dishcloth, intending to call you for dinner, but the scene in the living room stopped him in his tracks.

Beneath the soft, golden light of his Monaco penthouse, you stood with a glass of white wine in hand, your eyes closed, brows furrowed slightly, and your body swaying effortlessly to the rhythm of the music playing in the background.

You were utterly lost in the song, humming softly and singing along to the lyrics with a kind of reckless abandon. It didn’t matter that you weren’t trained to sing or that your voice wavered slightly here and there. What mattered was the unguarded joy in the moment, the kind of pure, unfiltered expression that made Lewis’ chest ache with something he couldn’t quite name. You hadn’t noticed him yet, so deeply immersed in your own little world, a world that radiated warmth and vulnerability.

A slow, almost involuntary smile spread across his face as he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, taking in the sight before him. The way your hair cascaded in soft waves down your back, the way your hips moved naturally to the beat, and how your silk nightgown delicately enveloped your frame—it was all so completely and effortlessly you.

Lewis’ gaze softened, his heart swelling as he took in the scene before him. There was a kind of fragile beauty in moments like this, a glimpse of the unguarded you that felt like a privilege to witness. You weren’t performing for anyone, not trying to impress or hide—you were simply existing, lost in the rhythm of the music and the comfort of the space you shared together.

It hit him, as it often did in quiet moments like these, just how lucky he was. Lucky to know you in ways the rest of the world never would, to be the one who got to see you when the walls came down and the noise of the outside world faded away. These little moments, the kind that seemed inconsequential to anyone else, were what he treasured most. They were what made everything worth it.

He walked deliberately, the soft creak of the floorboards under his barefoot steps betraying his soft approach. When he reached you, he stopped for a moment, simply taking in the way the music seemed to pulse through you, the way the room felt warm and intimate. Without a word, he positioned himself behind you, his presence filling the space just enough to make you aware of him without breaking the magic of the moment.

He gently placed his hands on your hip dips, his touch light but sure. The movement of your body slowed, and you turned your head to look at him, a playful glint in your eyes, the faintest trace of surprise in your smile.

“Oh, hi,” you said, the words slipping out with a mix of amusement and affection.

He smiled back at you, that warm, easy smile of his. “Hello, angel,” he replied, his voice soft and teasing, as if he were enjoying the sight of you in this moment just as much as the music. “Care if I join in?” he asked.

Without waiting for an answer, he slid his hands from your hips to your waist, pulling you gently closer.

The music continued to flow around you both, and for a few seconds, you let yourself melt into him, throwing your head back to rest against his chest. The warmth of his body surrounded you as both of you moved in sync, caught up in the quiet connection of the moment. It was just the two of you, the soft flicker of light from the living room lamps dancing on the walls, creating shadows that seemed to mirror the ease between you.

“Dinner’s ready, love,” he muttered, lowering his head closer to yours. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, the words carrying a softness that made you smile involuntarily. “Made your favorite meal.”

And it was moments like these that reached that fragile part of you that had never fully healed from growing up neglected by your own father. Every time Lewis made it clear that he cared—that he truly listened to your words, that he understood who you are and why you are—there was an ache that would rise in your chest, a bittersweet pang of something you didn’t even know you were starving for.

Every time he loved you, you were transported back to your childhood home, where love was a distant, unreachable thing, locked away behind a thousand doors you could never open. It wasn’t that you were unloved—it was that the kind of love you needed, the kind that wrapped around you with warmth and security, was always kept just out of reach. The love that touched you, held you, saw you. The love that would have made you feel safe. It was always missing.

But with him—with Lewis—it felt like you were being given that love in every little thing he did. It wasn’t just the grand gestures, the moments that shouted “I love you.” It was in the quiet, tender things—the way he made sure you were okay and comfortable, the way he noticed the small things, the way he never made you feel like you were too much or too little. He loved you like he knew exactly who you were, even when you still hadn’t figured it all out yourself.

You tried your hardest to keep it together, but under the weight of it all, you unraveled completely, breaking apart against his chest as if letting go of him might make him vanish into the air.

The tears came fast and unrelenting, sinking in his shirt, but he didn’t flinch or pull away. If anything, he held you closer, his hand stroking your back in slow, soothing circles as you let go of everything you’d been holding in. It wasn’t just about the love he gave you now; it was about everything you had missed, everything you had buried, everything you were afraid to admit you needed.

“Hey, hey,” he said softly, his voice a gentle anchor in your storm. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as if to shield you from whatever was breaking inside. “I'm here. I've got you, love. I've got you.”

The steady rhythm of his heartbeat pressed against your cheek, grounding you in the moment, even as your tears soaked into his shirt. You wanted to say something—to explain, to apologize for the way you were falling apart—but the words wouldn’t come.

All you could do was cling to him.

He didn’t rush you. He didn’t ask for an explanation or try to fix what couldn’t be fixed at that moment. Instead, he simply stood there, rocking you gently, one hand tracing slow, soothing circles on your back. His touch was warm and steady, a quiet reassurance that it was okay to feel everything, that it was okay to let him carry some of the weight.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered, his lips brushing the top of your head. “You don’t have to hold it all in. Just let it out, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

And somehow, those words—so simple, so full of certainty—broke you even further, because they were everything you’d longed to hear your whole life—words that promised safety, security, and an unwavering presence. Words that no one else had ever said and truly meant.

another two minutes, your sobs began to taper off into quiet hiccups, your breathing still uneven but slowly steadying. You stayed pressed against him, your head tucked under his chin, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. The silence between you wasn’t heavy or awkward—it was soothing, the kind of silence that made you feel safe, like you didn’t need to fill the space with words.

Lewis shifted slightly, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, his thumb brushing gently along your hairline. “You okay?” he asked softly, his voice low and careful, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile peace that had settled over you both.

You nodded against his chest, not trusting your voice just yet. His fingers lingered in your hair for a moment longer before he leaned back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up so he could meet your eyes.

“I hope you know you don’t ever need to hide with me, right?”

You pulled away enough to look back at him. There was no judgment in his expression, no pity—just quiet understanding. It was as though he could see every crack in your armor and chose not to comment, but instead, to hold you together without saying a word.

Your lips parted, but the words caught in your throat. You could only nod again, the weight of his gaze anchoring you.

One of his hands moved to your cheek, caressing it as he looked back at you with nothing but love glossing over his eyes.

“You’re safe with me,” he said, his voice soft but steady, like a promise he intended to keep forever. His thumb brushed away the remnants of your tears, and the warmth of his touch settled deep in your chest, easing some of the ache. “Whatever it is, whatever you’re feeling, you can let it out. I’m not going anywhere.”

You closed your eyes and leaned into his hand, drawing strength from his presence. The way he stood there, unwavering and patient, made you feel seen in a way you rarely allowed yourself to be.

“I know,” you finally whispered, your voice trembling but sure. “I know.”

And you did. You knew it with every part of you, even the parts that still resisted the notion that someone could love you this completely, this unconditionally.

For a moment, you just stayed like that—his hand on your cheek, your bodies close, the world around you quiet and still. The scent of him—clean and warm, tinged with the faintest hint of the cologne he always wore—was comforting in a way that made you want to stay in his arms forever.

“I didn’t mean to fall apart like that,” you admitted softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “It’s just…sometimes it’s hard to hold it all together.”

Lewis’ lips curved into a gentle smile, and he tilted his forehead to rest lightly against yours. “You don’t have to hold it all together, love. Not with me. You’re allowed to fall apart. I’ll catch you every time.”

The sincerity in his words made your throat tighten all over again, but this time, it wasn’t from pain—it was from the overwhelming sense of safety and love he gave you, love that wrapped around you like a protective cocoon.

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there as if trying to transfer some of his strength to you. “Come on,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to take your hand in his. “Dinner’s going to get cold, and I worked way too hard on that sauce for it to go to waste.”

You laughed, a small, shaky sound, but it was genuine, and you saw the way his face lit up in response. It was as though your laugh, however small, was all he needed to feel like everything was right in the world.

He led you to the dining table, his fingers laced with yours, and pulled out your chair for you before settling into his own. The meal he had prepared was as perfect as you expected it to be, every detail thoughtful and deliberate, just like him.

As you ate, the conversation flowed easily, moving from lighthearted topics to deeper ones, the way it always did with him. By the time you finished, the heaviness in your chest had lessened, replaced by the quiet comfort of knowing you weren’t alone.

Later, as you lay together in bed, his arm draped protectively around you and your head resting on his chest, you felt something shift inside you—a small but powerful realization.

With Lewis, you didn’t have to be perfect. You didn’t have to have it all figured out. You didn’t have to hide the parts of yourself that felt broken or messy or incomplete. With him, you could simply be.

A long time ago, Freud coined the term "father complex”.

You thought about that when you were laid in Lewis’ chest at night.

Freud suggested that the need for approval from an absent father often lingers into adulthood, shaping questionable relationships

Yet, with Lewis, it didn’t feel like a need or a wound being tended to—it just felt right, as though for once, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

And that, you realized, was the kind of love you had been searching for all along.

[bosbas]

Chapter 4: uh oh, I'm fallin' in love

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!daphne's best friend!reader WC: 2.3k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love, anthony being a big softie, mostly fluff, i still ship y/n and daphne tbh

Summary: At her wit's end after Anthony's multiple attempts to scare away her suitors, Daphne employs her best friend's help to keep her brother distracted while she tries to find a husband. It's a foolproof plan, except it ends up working a little too well. (or, a Bridgerton version of The Taming of the Shrew/10 things I hate about you)

June 16, 1812 - “How’s Mr Norwood?” you asked Daphne, sitting on the couch next to her in the Bridgertons’ tea room, her legs on your lap as the rain steadily poured outside.

Your best friend and her hopefully-husband-to-be had been looking particularly cozy as of late, and you knew that you had played no small part in making that happen. Unfortunately, Daphne’s happiness was often overshadowed by the small pang of guilt you felt every time you had a particularly lovely afternoon with her oldest brother.

“Oh, he’s lovely. I do think he’ll propose in the next few weeks,” she said excitedly, her legs dancing excitedly on your lap.

You squealed in response, absolutely elated at the prospect of seeing your best friend in a wedding gown before the end of the season. It’s practically all she’d dreamed about, and you couldn’t believe the time was so close.

“Where will you live? After you marry, I mean,” you asked, twirling a lock of your hair around your index finger. “If I have to travel to another country to see you, I’ll riot.”

Daphne paused, unsure. “We haven’t particularly discussed it. I think his family has a home a few hours away, but surely his older brother will inherit that…”

You sat up straight, realizing this was a sensitive subject. “That’s quite alright, I’m sure your dowry will be more than enough for a simple estate somewhere nearby,” you reassured, patting her legs comfortingly.

If they were truly in love, it wouldn’t matter how small or large their home was. But Daphne only hummed in response, looking out distractedly at the raindrops hitting the window.

Deciding not to press your best friend and potentially cause her more distress, you changed the subject.

Playing with the hem of Daphne’s dress, you said nonchalantly, “I suppose I’ll end things with Anthony right before Phillip proposes. There’s no real point in continuing the façade if Phillip has to ask Anthony for your hand anyway, so it’s not like we can keep going longer than that.”

Daphne narrowed her eyes at you, smiling slightly. “Really? I thought you two were having a lovely time during your courtship.”

You paused, your hand going still for a moment. “Well, of course. We get along quite well. But it’s not real, Daphne. I don’t really have feelings for him and he doesn’t really have any intention of marrying me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” you laughed at the absurdity of your best friend’s suggestion, sounding a bit panicked. “I couldn’t truly be interested in him!”

Just then, you heard the front door open and heavy footsteps coming down the hallway.

Recognizing her brother’s footfalls, Daphne called out, “Anthony, I didn’t know you’d gone out riding. It’s absolutely pouring outside!”

“I can’t believe it actually rained,” he groaned, his voice carrying across the hall. “I thought Colin just said that to be a nuisance.”

He peeked his head into the tea room, looking completely disheveled from what you could only assume was a hectic horse ride. His hair was soaking and stuck to his forehead, his sleeves were dripping water onto the carpet, and he was shivering slightly from the cold. And yet, you thought to yourself, he still looked more handsome than any other man in the ton.

“Y/N!” he yelped as his eyes fell on you, sitting comfortably on his couch as Daphne had her legs propped on your lap. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I’m sorry, I would’ve looked more… presentable. Or at least dry.”

It was the oddest thing, he suddenly seemed impossibly shy. You only laughed and shook your head, waving off his apology.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” you smiled, recalling how reckless young Anthony was when it came to riding.

Anthony crinkled his nose, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s different now, though,” he insisted, still sounding out of sorts. “I can head upstairs quickly to make myself presentable and greet you properly.”

“No, that’s quite alright,” you insisted, finding Anthony entirely too endearing at the moment. “I should probably head home anyway; I’ve been here the better part of the afternoon.”

“Let me walk you home at least,” pleaded the positively soaking man at the entrance of the room. “Or even just call a carriage.”

Your home was only a few minutes’ walk away, and you were usually happy to do it on your own. However, looking out the window you realized it probably wasn’t the best idea to head home in this weather.

“Very well then,” you conceded, finding it impossible to say no to Anthony.

“Alright, give me five minutes, then. Just let me change out of these clothes and I’ll be back,” he yelled over his shoulder, already out the door and rushing upstairs.

“So it's all just pretend, then?” asked Daphne smugly once Anthony was gone.

“Oh, shush,” you grumbled, shoving her legs off you.

But Daphne only laughed gleefully, a knowing twinkle in her eye.

---

June 19, 1812 - Anthony had gone into town on a fine Friday afternoon in search of a new pair of hunting boots when he spotted you some distance away. You were accompanied by your lady’s maid, and you seemed to be leaving the modiste.

Apart from noticing how stunning you looked, even in a simple day dress, Anthony realized a few things.

First, you were far enough away from him and positioned in such a manner that there was no chance that you would see him. He could easily just go on with his day, quickly find the pair of hunting boots he came for, and make his way home.

However, the second thing he took note of is that a gentleman such as himself would always go out of his way to greet the lady he was courting. Perhaps it was time to shift away from the tiring rake act he so often put on and act like a Bridgerton.

And finally, he noted that, in reality, he could come back for a pair of hunting boots at any time. However, he couldn’t unexpectedly run into you every day.

So, with all this in mind, Anthony determinedly shouted your name. When you didn’t hear him and kept walking, he yelled your lady’s maid’s name, who turned around to look at who had called for her. Spotting Anthony through the crowd of summer shoppers, your lady’s maid tugged at your sleeve, turning you around so you could see him.

“Oh, Anthony, what a surprise!” you called, unable to help the bright smile that lit up your face.

How gentlemanly, you thought, for Anthony to go out of his way to say hello. Perhaps he had left behind his rakish ways.

“It’s rather hot today, isn’t it?” said Anthony as he reached you, leaning down to kiss your hand in greeting. “What do you say about going across the street and enjoying some tea?”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. Greeting you unexpectedly and asking to spend time together? This was quite unusual indeed.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about?” you said, somewhat nervously. Had Daphne somehow let her plan slip? “We were due to see each other this evening at the Featherington ball."

Anthony laughed, enjoying your confusion. It felt quite good to be a gentleman, he thought. “Not at all, I just thought I’d take advantage of the fact that I saw you. I’m not particularly keen on depriving myself of the company of a wonderful lady such as yourself.”

You felt your face growing hot, completely floored by how lovely Anthony was being. It was like his usual charm turned up by a factor of ten.

Looking over at your lady’s maid, you raised your eyebrows to ask if it was alright with her if your plans were derailed.

“Nowhere else to be,” she shrugged her shoulders.

“Perfect, then, let’s go,” you smiled at Anthony.

Hooking your hand into the crook of his arm, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your stomach. Bit by bit, you were realizing you were in far over your head. So far you couldn’t even see the ground anymore. Anthony was turning out to be completely unexpected.

And though you were practically giddy every time you saw him now, you were also fighting to bury the uncomfortable thought that you might have made a grave mistake trying to mastermind your courtship with him.

---

June 23, 1812 - “Well, I suppose I should get going,” Anthony said to Colin, getting up from his chair as he looked at his watch. “Y/N will surely be expecting me, seeing as how we went to a ball yesterday evening.”

Upon hearing Colin snickering in response, the eldest Bridgerton shot his younger brother an annoyed look.

“Do you think this is funny? Wait a few years and you’ll be doing this, too,” Anthony scoffed.

“It’s not that,” said Colin, still chuckling to himself. “It’s just that she’s been here since this morning. I ran into her and Daphne a few hours ago.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” asked Anthony in disbelief.

Colin shrugged. “I thought you’d surely seen her. You’re the one courting her, after all.”

“Why didn’t she ask for me?” grumbled Anthony, mostly to himself. “Well, even more reason to go see her now. Goodbye, Colin. I would say it was a pleasure speaking with you but based on the last two minutes I don’t particularly think it was.”

In response, Colin half-heartedly crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at his brother. “Say hello to your wife for me,” he teased, knowing Anthony’s aversion to marriage.

But his jab was only met with a slammed door. Anthony was too focused on finding you.

How on earth had he not noticed your presence in his home the whole day? To be fair, before you started courting, you spent copious amounts of time at the Bridgerton residence, with or without Daphne, and he wasn’t always aware until after the fact.

You had practically already been a part of the family, but it felt different now. He felt panicked that he hadn’t already greeted you, and he was worried you would hold it against him.

Rushing down the stairs, he ran into Daphne, who was shuffling through a stack of letters in the foyer.

“Who are you expecting correspondence from? A suitor?” he questioned suspiciously.

“She’s in the sitting room,” answered Daphne curtly.

Without a second thought, Anthony dashed across the hall, bursting into the sitting room.

There, he found you and Hyacinth sitting next to each other on the pianoforte bench. Your hands were on hers as you guided her nine-year-old fingers over the keys to form a melody. Startled, you dropped Hyacinth’s hands and turned to look over at the doorway.

“Is something the matter, dear?” asked Violet calmly from the other side of the room, quite used to the antics of her eight children.

“No, no- not at all,” gulped Anthony, not expecting to have seen you with his youngest sister. “I just heard Y/N had stopped by, is all.”

“That’s kind of you,” you said, smiling softly at the man you were courting. “Hyacinth seems to be a natural at the pianoforte.”

“Better than Gregory anyway,” said Hyacinth haughtily, eliciting a hearty laugh from you.

“Well, run along, then, Hyacinth,” urged Anthony. “I believe I should like to speak with Y/N.”

Hyacinth groaned, “She’s not yours Anthony. I believe I should like to stay," she said petulantly. "I was having such a lovely time with Y/N before you interrupted.”

She hugged you tight, lest Anthony tried to make her leave by force. Laughing, you hugged her back, patting her head soothingly.

“No one’s making you leave, Hyacinth,” you shot Anthony a playful glare. “I apologize for not finding you earlier, Gregory has just learned how to play chess and wanted to play a match. And then Hyacinth came in and thought it quite unfair that I had spent such a long time with Gregory and not her. And then, well, you know how they are…” you explained, your voice full of fondness for the youngest Bridgertons.

“Oh, do I,” said Anthony, walking over to ruffle Hyacinth’s hair affectionately. “Who won the chess match?”

Resigning himself to the fact that his little sister wouldn’t leave, Anthony made himself comfortable on the couch closest to you. And though he was hoping to spend some time alone– well, chaperoned– with you, he couldn’t deny that his heart was doing all sorts of gymnastics in his chest at the thought of the care you had for his siblings.

“We each won one and the third was a stalemate,” you responded, winking at Anthony and running your fingers through Hyacinth’s hair. “He’s quite good.”

“I want to learn how to play chess,” whined Hyacinth, detesting the fact that you and Gregory shared something she couldn’t join in on.

“I can teach you next time I stop by,” you promised, smiling fondly at her. “It’s quite a fun game, once you understand the rules.”

And at that very moment, Anthony knew he loved you. It had happened slowly, and then quite suddenly he was extremely aware of it. Much like you had made your way into the Bridgertons’ lives, you had made your way into his heart.

He knew he would be a fool not to see it. All he ever wanted was to take care of his family, and seeing you feel the same way was doing all sorts of things to his heart that he found impossible to ignore. You cared so deeply about his family, and it was difficult not to imagine the pair of you having a child of your own.

Anthony had decided. This was the first and last courtship he would ever have. He was falling faster than he could imagine, and he didn't particularly want to do anything to stop it. 

—

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[descendant-of-truth]

Interesting addendum to this that I wasn't expecting: in the English version of Days, whenever Roxas talks about Sora, he's always clearly framed as a person. "Who is Sora," "I don't even know a Sora," etc.

In Japanese, he initially asks about who Sora is, but then switches to asking what Sora is. And it seems to happen not too long after Xemnas describes Sora as "the connection" between him and Xion.

He proceeds to wonder to himself what Sora is, and who exactly that makes him, before going to ask Axel about it. And during that conversation with Axel, he doesn't say "I don't even know a Sora," he instead just repeats the question of "but what even is Sora?"

Which I think adds an extra nuance to the narrative that gets lost in the official translation. Roxas instinctively thinks of Sora as a person, because why wouldn't he, but none of the answers he gets about him frames him as such. So, perhaps subconsciously, he starts seeing Sora less as a person and more of a mystery, this obstacle to his and Xion's lives that he can't seem to get answers about.

And normally, you'd think Roxas wouldn't fall into this trap, right? He's always been the most adamant about defending Xion's personhood, shouting at people when she's referred to as a puppet or an "it." His whole storyline is about asserting himself in the face of nearly everyone he knows dehumanizing him and trying to take away his autonomy.

Plus, he has Sora's memories! If he remembers things that Sora's done, and things that Sora's felt, how could he not see him as a person?

But I think that's a testament to how insidious the Organization's manipulation is. Roxas and his best friend are discriminated against, they're "othered" in a way that's unfair and it makes him justifiably ticked off. But that's the thing: he knows Xion, he cares about her, and of course he knows himself. He remembers things about Sora, but he doesn't really understand him - we never see him processing the memories he has very well.

So it becomes very easy for Sora to be presented as the "other." He doesn't stand up for Sora's personhood because he hasn't seen it, and frankly, he has bigger things in his home life to care about than whether some random guy he knows random things about is being treated well. Sora, reportedly, is half the reason he has so many problems anyway, and at this point in his life he just wants someone to blame.

It doesn't matter that Sora wasn't personally responsible for anything that happened to Roxas. He doesn't know what Sora did or didn't do when it comes to him and Xion, but everyone's telling him he's responsible, he's the connection, he's the reason everything is happening to him. And so, Roxas's anger is directed at an innocent person, someone who's really not much more privileged than he is, instead of solely at his oppressors.

Honestly, the way Roxas views Sora over time deserves a post all on its own, because it's not even necessarily as straightforward as "and then he saw Sora exactly for who he is once they joined together for a while and he got over his resentment." It's more like, his resentment turned into genuine respect, and then into this weird, resigned hero-worship for a bit, before they seemed to get on equal terms towards the end of KH3.

But my point is, Roxas plays a very interesting role in this pattern of Sora being dehumanized, because he ends up contributing to it for completely different reasons than everyone else, and it's not even on purpose. DiZ and the Organization see Sora as a tool, Namine and especially Riku care more about waking him up than how he'd feel about their methods.

To Roxas, Sora is the reason he lost everything. Sora is "what it was all for," which starts as something he hates, and becomes something that gives him a certain degree of comfort.

Because Sora will be the one to figure it all out, right? He can depend on Sora, just like everybody else, because that's what Sora's here for. He's a good guy, he'll find a way to make things right again.

He ends up being correct, but man. At what cost

Anyone else find it fascinating that whenever we're shown Roxas's feelings through Sora, it's just kind of melancholic and wistful, but the reverse scenario always feels like you just walked into a psychological horror?

Seriously, the way it's presented, it's like we're meant to see Roxas as an old friend that we miss talking to, but Sora - our original "old friend" that we would have reasons to miss - is hardly even shown as a person. The contents of his memories feel less important than the effect they're having on Roxas, which is usually Extreme Distress and/or physical pain.

And it's insane to me because KH1 was so whimsical! The memories that Roxas and Xion are experiencing are literal Disney magic! But the way they're shown, with the fuzzy filters and the glitch effects, sort of removes the emotions you associate with them and makes them come across as eerie and unsettling.

Not to mention, Sora's memories rarely prompt any feelings of happiness, the way Roxas's might make Sora extra fond of the Twilight Town crew... which might say more about how KH1 affected Sora's mental health than anything.

(I personally stand by the idea that the story revisits it so much as an analogy for how repeating events in your head over and over can alter your perception of them)

But like. how wild is it that this series found a way to take its cheerful protagonist, and without changing anything about him, turned him into this constant, unnerving presence that haunts the lives of two other characters?

And I think another reason Roxas doesn't feel like he haunts Sora in the same way is because no one really... treats Sora like a person while he's asleep. He's either a tool or an object of affection, and regardless of which you pick, his feelings are seen as secondary to the goal of waking him up. As a result, the narrative focuses entirely on Roxas and Xion's personhood, and unlike Sora, they never stop being treated like people once they're made inaccessible due to the plot.

It's probably a bit late in the story to bring it up by now, but I still wonder if we'll ever see Sora be upset with Riku for sacrificing people in his name. Sure, it worked out in the end, and I'm not sure if Sora's even aware of what happened (how likely is it that he's properly sifted through all of Roxas's memories at this point?) but there's a list of things he could still conceivably be mad at Riku about that he hasn't processed, and I want this to be one of them

[aishangotome]

Luke & Gilbert's Story of Reminiscence [The Day We Became a Fake Family] - Part 4

Part 3

Gilbert: A wise eldest brother like you understands what the most appropriate choice is in this situation, right...?

At the table, conspicuous for its mountain of plates, tension arose between Jin, who sat next to Luke, and Gilbert, who sat opposite them with a meaningful smile.

Seeing this, Luke let out a languid sigh as if to dispel the heavy atmosphere.

Luke: Jin, I'm fine. I'm not being bullied. Though he is harassing me.

Gilbert: When did I harass you?

Luke: Don't play dumb.

Jin: ...............

Luke: But hey, thanks for worrying about me.

Jin, who had been looking alternately between his youngest brother and the calamity, eventually shrugged with a wry smile.

Jin: You're quite something, going toe-to-toe with Prince Gilbert like that.

Luke: Right?

Jin: Come to my place when we get back to the castle. I have to reward you for fulfilling such a big role.

Jin: Well then, I'll be taking my leave for now. I'll pay for this.

Gilbert: Oh? You're treating us?

Jin: Surely, Prince Gilbert, you understand what I'm trying to say.

Gilbert: Hehe, of course.

Gilbert: I won't do anything bad to your precious little brother. It's a holiday today, after all.

Jin: That's reassuring.

Jin stood up, patted Luke's head, and left.

Gilbert: He's a good older brother, isn't he?

Luke: ...Jin is.

Gilbert: Hey, Luke.

Suddenly, he pointed at the window, and Luke turned his head.

Luke: What? There's nothing there.

Gilbert: There is. Look, it's reflected in the window.

Gilbert: The face that says you're happy to see your brother.

Luke: ...!

Because it was nearing nighttime, the face reflected in the window was clear.

The relaxed expression on his face hardened as if remembering something.

Gilbert: No matter how much you deny it, you like this country now.

Luke: That's not...!

He swallowed his words as Gilbert placed his index finger in front of his lips.

Contrary to the oppressive atmosphere, his refreshing smile was gentle.

Gilbert: "Liking a country" is synonymous with "liking its people." Because a country is made up of its people.

Luke: ...............

Gilbert: This is troubling. Your target of revenge might be that overprotective brother of yours.

Luke: You...

Gilbert: Yes, that's right.

Gilbert: Hesitate, worry, struggle, and when you finally break free, swing your sword.

Unfazed by the anger in Luke's face, Gilbert once again cut the cake and brought it to his mouth.

It was the last bite.

Gilbert: But you mustn't ignore your own voice when that happens. You have to listen carefully to what your heart is screaming.

Luke: ...Was this whole "sightseeing" thing just to tell me that?

Gilbert: ............

Luke: Hey... have you ever hated someone from the bottom of your heart?

Gilbert: Of course, I have. I'm the same as you, after all.

Luke: The same?

Gilbert: My family was killed.

Perhaps it was an unexpected answer, as his verdant eyes widened.

Luke: ...I was going to tell you not to butt in if you've never hated anyone.

Gilbert: That's a shame.

Luke: Have you ever taken revenge?

Gilbert: I have. I killed them.

Gilbert: But I didn't feel anything.

Gilbert: Ah, so this is it... that was the end of it.

Luke: Weren't you... happy?

Gilbert: Not really. Because even if I kill that person, the dead don't come back to life.

Gilbert: Revenge, you see, is meaningless like that.

Luke: ................

Gilbert: That's why you worry so much, Luke.

Gilbert: It's fine to desperately try not to let the hatred within you disappear, but...

Gilbert: Don't lose the things you've come to like.

Luke: ...Mind your own business.

Gilbert: Ahaha, that's true. But I have a responsibility as a father, don't I?

Luke: You don't.

Gilbert: Luke, why do you think I didn't send you, a war orphan, to an institution?

Luke: ...I've never thought about it, but maybe because I was useful to you?

Gilbert: If that was the only reason, I might have sent you to an institution.

Luke: Then why?

Gilbert: Because you were just like me when I was a child.

Gilbert: If I had left you alone, you would have surely become like me.

Gilbert: A "calamity of the world" who can't kill enough, even after killing and killing and killing.

Luke: .............

Gilbert: My educational policy is only one thing.

Gilbert: Don't become the kind of person who can kill with a smile.

The man, who was once clad in blood and gunpowder, always smiling refreshingly, stood up quietly.

Gilbert: Hehe, thank you for the meal.

As Gilbert briskly headed for the exit, Luke cast his eyes down.

*flashback*

Luke: What's with that smug look?

Gilbert: I'm just glad.

Luke: About what?

Gilbert: Because you can still go back to being human.

Gilbert: As long as there are things you can like, it's proof that you can turn back, no matter how clouded your eyes become.

Luke: ...What do you mean?

Gilbert: Hehe, you don't need to understand.

Gilbert: Just keep making lots of "likes" at this rate, okay?

*flashback over*

Luke: ––...Are you already beyond saving?

Gilbert: Hm?

Luke shook his head at Gilbert, who had turned around, and stood up from his seat.

Luke: Come to think of it, I remembered there's a rose viewing spot nearby.

Gilbert: Oh? Will you show me?

Luke: ...Are you interested?

Gilbert: Of course.

Luke: Can't be helped then.

Luke scratched his head in annoyance and walked ahead of Gilbert.

Luke: I'll take you there.

Luke: You can probably learn to like it, can't you?

.

.

.

FIN

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[the-crooked-library]

Okay I wanted to tell you that I'm literally drinking your posts about Nosferatu, thank you so much for sharing all your thoughts! You're helping me better shaping my own opinions.

And I have another thing that can't leave my mind so I thought to share: Ellen is in perfect control of Orlok, and it's never the other way round.

She is the one that summons him first, and after their first encounters (I got the feeling that they met more than once before her father discovered her and the encounters got unpleasant, but I might be wrong), when she rejects him out of fear and disgust, *he leaves her be*. Okay, he visits her in her dreams, but dreams are manageable, right? In fact Ellen moves on, she tries to build a reasonable life, she falls in love, and Orlok just leaves her be. It's only when she marries that he acts: because the vows of marriage can break the oath they took years ago.

And even if moved by jealousy and rage, even if he is so powerful that he can control animals, weather and human minds, even if he can bring the plague to a whole city, even if he kills and tortures everyone, he can't touch her unless she gives her permission, her consent. He barely even look at her without her permission.

And in the end he knows the dawn is approaching, he knows he's gonna die, he is more than satisfied, more than fulfilled, but she says "more" and so he stays. And he dies. Because she wanted for him to die.

I don't think Ellen is fully aware of her power and control over him since the beginning, because to admit to herself this much is too much for her. A part of her still wants and impossible normal life. But surely she knows. She places her hair in the lock...

And in the end she fully embraces this power, to the extent of her own death too.

I think this is what hit me the most in this movie. How big a role the girl plays in the action of the vampire.

hi - and thank you so so much! I am delighted to hear that you've been enjoying my posts about this film, because, quite frankly, I haven't been able to shut up about it at any point since I saw it.

Regarding Ellen's control of Orlok: this might be just my opinion, but I think it is strongly reminiscent of the dynamic between Sarah and Jareth in Labyrinth (1986)! Sarah's situation is, naturally, less traumatic than Ellen's - but she is the heroine of a coming-of-age fantasy film, rather than a gothic horror, so that comes with the territory. The point is, their stories share the same essential plot beats and deal with a similar subject matter, and Sarah's story is punctuated by her interactions with the Goblin King. Like Orlok, he is ancient and in some ways immortal; he is obsessive, dangerous, and magical in a way that does not fit in with the Normal World - which provides a point of endless fascination for Sarah, who also feels like an outsider in it. As such, the Goblin King both excites and terrifies her, he adores her and menaces her at the same time - and, crucially, he has no power over her. Here's how the story develops:

the loneliness, the frustration with her life

the summons, however accidental

friends/family in danger

at the same time - thrill, excitement, seduction, obsession

fairy tale time limit - 13 hours or 3 nights

confrontation/declaration of love, offer of eternity

the evil is defeated because he isn't actually in control.

The Goblin King begs Sarah to just fear him, love him, and vows to be her slave if she does; Orlok does much the same, insisting time and time again that Ellen isn't meant for the human world - that he would give her the companionship she wanted for all eternity; and the same pattern repeats in a plethora of other media as well, vampire, fairytale, and various derivations thereof.

Just to throw a few examples into the mix - Ellen Hutter, Christine Daaé, Sarah Williams, Will Graham, and Louis de Pointe du Lac all follow that specific dance. Each one of their respective monsters seduces, threatens, adores, coerces, rages - and eventually submits. Orlok is reverent as he stays with Ellen past the sunrise; Erik releases Christine in the finale; the Goblin Kingdom crumbles, Hannibal kneels in the snow and falls from the cliff, and Lestat allows Louis to slit his throat. For the pursued, this is, first and foremost, a story of self-actualization; and a fantasy of being loved so deeply that it supersedes all other possible concerns. None of these characters have ever felt loved by another human being - and so it's not surprising that the thing that wants them so much isn't human. It's really more of a reasonable assumption than a leap.

I absolutely agree that Ellen's actions are often very subtly questionable, in a way that almost feels like reaching; and I think that this is likely the intention - though that could be debated until the cows come home, given a contrary enough group of people. Still, in the film itself, she is indeed torn between Morality and Desire. Lines are inevitably blurred. The locket miniature for Thomas, the perfumed lock of hair for Orlok; a sacrifice for the city, a night of passion for her.

One proper, sane; the other invariably personal, close to the skin - clinging, like the scent of lilacs; and it could be said that this dilemma is best encapsulated by her description of a dream she had in the very beginning of the movie. In it, she is wedded to Death. None of the witnesses survive it. She is horrified, she has never been happier in her life, and it's rooted in the very core of her anguish. Because what sort of thing is she, if the only person that loves her wholly is a monster?..

[perksofbeingahalfie]

A type of character that I'm OBSESSED with is the character who is turned into a symbol for a cause they don't believe in. The character who is cast in a story that they don't care about. The common man turned into a mythic figure, but who doesn't actually participate in the mythology.

I'm talking Jinx Arcane, who is seen as a symbol of the Zaun revolution despite the fact that she never was a freedom fighter. Any violence she committed against Piltover, her breaking the people out of jail, even her joining the fight in the finale - all of it was done for self serving reasons, it was all personal. She was never on the ground putting in the work or participating in mutual aid or even trying for an independent Zaun like Sevika or Ekko or Silco, yet she is painted on the walls and looked up to as a figure, a part to play. Not as her full person. So much so that just Isha imitating Jinx is enough to spark the fire.

Spinner from My Hero Academia is almost a c list character. He's a member of the League of Villains, but not a particularly important one. He is a follower at his core, first of Stain and then of Shigaraki. But for the final war, All For One decides to elevate him to the status of leader. He gives him additional quirks and paints him as a symbol of the heteromorph population who have been constantly oppressed and discriminated against, stirring up tension and recruiting many regular citizens who have no experience fighting to AFOs side in the final war. But at the key moment, the pivitol point that could change the tides of war, it falls apart. Because Spinner was never that figure, just a flimsy icon. He's not fighting for the heteromorph cause, he's not even fighting for AFO. He wasn't a mindless pawn, he *allowed* AFO to do these things to him, but for his own reasons. As he's deteriorating under the strain of the quirks and the pressure of the masses, he says explicitly its because he cares about Shigaraki and nothing else. Because it's personal.

In Black Sails, a story all about narratives and who you pretend to be, John Silver is literally crafted into the mythical pirate king by Flint and Billy. He plays the part of Long John Silver to a certain degree, but he's never more than an actor in a role. And at his core, Silver is a liar, a *very* good one. And so Billy and Flint forget this, they forget the fact that Silver doesn't care about the war and never has. He is a man with no past and no future, no story. A man who not only knows he's in a story, but also is one of the few to escape the constraints of the narrative by surpassing it entirely. By no longer being the character he was cast as, both textually and metatextually. He refuses the narrative, and he even has the power to do the same for Flint at the very end.

And it's not even the fact that they don't care or don't believe in the cause. Because they can and often do, though extremely temporarily. Spinner does express outrage against heteromorph discrimination, and Silver does find himself begrudgingly caring about his crew. Even Jinx can rally to save the city to some degree. But it never *really* matters to them. It's never even close to the main motivator, and a character quite literally lives and dies by their motivations. They're always operating on a different level than the other characters. Not necessarily a better or worse level, but just a purely different one. Or at least a level that the other characters don't understand/continually forget about. Most of the series, Jinx is purely reactionary, not doing things with much forethought or meaning behind it, but acting on emotional impulse. Spinner is a follower who is content with being a follower, who only really cares about his friends, his found family, not the war hes leading. And Silver is perpetually in survival mode, never dedicating himself to cause nor creed bc he doesn't allow the audience to make him into something more than a creature staying alive, regardless of what they might believe.

I dunno, there's something about characters that are made into symbols for causes they don't champion, and the rest of the characters having to deal with the fallout of their misbelief that really gets me going. They're the worms in my brain that keep coming back around

[whumpbby]

Hey, let's talk :D

magicorangelove

#the first part I wholeheartedly agree with and would like to see too - no matter how you love someone it is An Adjustment to start#living with someone#after 30+ years living alone and having this image of a person in your mind#and i don’t actually think lsz lived WITH lwj when he was small#first seclusion and then he was 6-7… anyway#the last part i don’t particularly agree with ‘cause i don’t think THOSE are the parts lwj has no idea about or would find surprising#or eye-opening or whatever#the day-to-day struggles on the other hand?…#also i do think he got better with expressing himself by this time…#then I remember that he failed to tell wwx about ayuan#and go…maybe not…..#then i think how that might have been for wwx’s benefit and change my mind again…..

For me, Lan Zhan at some point will start catching up to the moral hangover, but not because he will be surprised by the less savoury parts of his beloved, but because he will start noticing his own willingness to accept them and that can be a scary thing.

(I don't mean that WWX is a bad person - he's actually a really good guy with his heart in the right place, who tries to do a good thing whenever he can. But he also has a checkered past, made some choices that, while understandable, are morally indefensible, and he has serious issues with emotional intimacy and honesty, and a scary penchant for self-sacrifice.)

Until the realtionship started, Lan Wangji's intention towards his Wei Ying was to be The Saviour.

Like, throughought the whole of Sunshot all he tried to do was to Save Him - from the bad war, from the bad cultivation, from the bad sects... Then, he spent over a decade regetting not Saving Him. And then WWX came back and it was saving him from the bad Jiang Cheng. So, for the last 20 or some years, LWJ lived exclusively in the mode of The Saviour. WWX returning had to be like a blessing to him, he finally could play out his greatest fantasy! He got to save his beloved from more than one villain and after all that, he got to kiss him and take him to bed home! Gasp! He got his happy ending! He got to ride of into the sunset and now...

...now what? What now, once LWJ has to start realising that Wei Ying doesn't need a Saviour anymore, and that outside of that role he doesn't really know what to do? Once he has a chance to process, to familiarise himself with Wei Ying the person, he will have to face some moral quandaries he didn't have to face before. He was raised in a certain way and, as much as he carries anger towards his sect and the rules he was raised in, he was still raised with certain kind of morality that, given his character, I don't see him discarding easily or without a solid reason.

Until now the reason was his role of the Saviour that subsumed everything else. But since he doesn't have to be that anymore, what came he his behind now?

Uncritical love?

I don't think Wei Wuxian is someone who can be loved uncritically - for his own good. As much as everyone would want that for themselves in the imaginary world, lack of boundaries in a relationship harms both sides. WWX is a person that will strain against every lead put on him - and if he can't feel one, he will keep desperately pushing further and further until he feels something holding him back.

That's how he lived his first life - notice, he was always fighting for the attention of the people who were providing him with barriers. He wasn't bothering Lan Xichen in Gusu (arguably evenore handsome than Wangji) - he was exclusively pissing off Wangji and Lan Qiren. He wasn't bothering JFM, trying to discover his boundaries - he was annoying the shit out of JC and almost taunting Madame Yu. Almost, as if he needed people who would try to limit him in some way. To feel safe, maybe? To feel noticed?

He was always noticed and it never seemed enough. What can Lan Zhan do that a whole Jiang sect wasn't enough to do for their super star? Love him? As if he wasn't loved before???

So, like, if Lan Zhan is not a Saviour, that means Wei Ying isn't the damsell - as much as he likes to play up being one. He's not the princess in need of a knight. He's not perfect. Not innocent - I think Wei Wuxian would at some point become desperate for Lan Zhan to know that he's not perfect, ecause for how long can you stand to be placed on a pedestal you feel you don't feel you deserve to stand on?

The whole "between us there's no need for thank yous and sorrys" is such a deep quote - as long as you're 15 and never had a meaningful relationship of any kind. Because thank yous and sorrys are a part of normal human communication, and that communication is needed to maintain any sort of relationship - and here we have two characters obscenly bad at communicating and emotional honesty, and once you take even that simple scaffold away...

Yeah, this won't be smooth sailing for either of them.

I'd really love to read a fic where a year past the canon ends, Lan Zhan starts to realise that his dreamed-up perfect relationship with Wei Ying isn't what he imagined it to be.

That what he got is actually a wholeass person with imperfections that will get annoying after a while, with opinions that he doesn't agree with and behaviours he's not prepared to just accept. A human person that will lie to keep him happy, that will leave when any possibility of strife approaches, that sometimes doesn't want to have sex - or that sex isn't a cure-all for their problems. That whatever Jiang Cheng experienced growing up with Wei Wuxian will fall on Wangji too, because love doesn't change you as a person in 100%, sorry.

Because that's what think will be a hurdle for him - he never was in a relationship. He never even had real human friends. Fuck, he doesn't seem to have acquaintances. All he ever had was a made-up image of a boy he knew shortly in his late teens and a sect where he was the lauded Young Master everyone respected. He can't stoically stand a kid talking back to him without a silencing spell and has difficulty expressing the most basic things in useful words. For all the soulmate talk, he didn't even know the boy he dreamed building a life with - that Wei Wuxian never existed outside of Wangji's limited glimpses of him and a lot of forgiving assumption.

Like, when will it hit him that Wei Ying is actually a complex human being that isn't just for him to care about and love, and that he himself isn't happy with some things? Will he one night wake up in cold sweat when he finally understands that the man sleeping next to him orchestrated a horiffic surgery on himself and his brother, and never indicated that he regrets it and wouldn't do it again? That the man sleeping next to him kinda-sorta just looked on as people were murdered in front of him, and didn't really have any strong opinion about being brought back via human sacrifice?

Like, discarding stiff and stifling Lan rules after being burned by them is one thing, but this is a moral quandary that goes way beyond that.

[yuikomorii]

I 💖 your blog. Your writings are so cool🤩 . If you don't mind 🥹I want to ask a question. Have you thought why Ayato is not considered heir by his people like Subaru who wasn't involved in heir training but considered a 'good candidate ' for Karl's throne by maids(MB) and Shu was always considered a perfect heir by his people (MB) but wasn't it Cordelia who's supposed to be the 'empress' aka legal 1st wife and the woman who brought demon lord title, Viboras alliance to Karl through her marriage and whose blood is of great importance(LE,MB). So technically Karl's crown/title should be rightfully Ayato's but that wasn't the case. Nobody said a thing like that about Ayato. And almost all LE route Karl's title either goes to Shu or Subaru , Why is that?🤔

// Because Shu and Subaru are pure blood vampires, while Ayato is not. In LE, it’s confirmed that Zweig is against Subaru becoming king because he would have liked the triplets, who have Vibora blood, to rule over the Demon World.

The vampires would naturally want a pureblood to rule the kingdom, not a half-breed. In fact, the triplets aren’t even regarded as proper half-breeds—they’re seen as genetic failures. They’re not Vibora enough to qualify as Vibora Kings, nor Vampire enough to be viewed as Vampire Kings. Beyond that, the maids favored anyone over the triplets and not because of who they were, but because they were Cordelia’s children. Considering Cordelia’s behavior towards everyone, this isn’t surprising. If she went as far as ordering the butler to treat Ayato coldly, who knows what other orders she gave.

Shu inherits the powers most often because he’s the eldest, and by royal standards, this makes him the most suitable to wield them. As the oldest, he’s expected to be the most experienced and mature, having lived the longest and, theoretically, gained the wisdom and stability necessary for such a responsibility.

As far as I recall, Subaru only inherits the powers twice outside his own route. The first time is in Kou’s route, likely because the writers wanted to focus on the relationship between Kou and Subaru. The second time is in Shin’s route, most likely because the Founders played a significant role in Subaru’s own route, so they wanted him to have a presence in theirs as well. Ayato, Kanato, and Reiji also inherit the powers outside their routes, leaving Laito as the only one left out. Even Kou, the only Mukami, ends up inheriting powers, which was quite shocking.

In my opinion, none of the Sakamakis would make good kings because a truly good king would never treat their own brother with such disrespect. Ayato may possess the most noble personality traits, but he was unfortunately born into a family that is unsupportive and provokes him at every turn. As for Lost Eden, I don't really care much about it either, especially since it was boycotted primarily because of Ayato's route, and the Sakamakis already got their hate train both in EA and the West. The game was released almost 8 years ago, so I don’t hold any grudge against them for that.

Well, maybe Ayato is simply the best fit to be Adam, rather than a king. No matter how doomed he is by the narrative, what matters most is…

ONLY AYATO SAKAMAKI SELLS OUT 🤣🤣🤣🤣

[xo-adeline]

Match-up Exchange with @tiredshroomi

Blue Lock Role / Backstory

Definitely a manager under Anri, probably somebody who was founded due to your band, and then was later learned more about when Anri needed some help with taking care of all the teams in the NEL. Probably hired under the JFU, but for the most part, you would be with the other teams and helping them out in any way that you could so Anri could focus more and work more with Ego and the NEL and the planning for the World Cup.

Abilities ⋆°• ☁︎ - Observation and Reading others

Observations - Being able to understand people and point things out is such an amazing thing in sports that definitely isn’t overlooked when you point something out to either Anri, Ego, or any of the other master strikers. Even if you don’t understand exactly what it means, that something that they happen to miss could be something very important to understand a part of the plays, or the game, being able to use that to turn the game around or make sure to prepare for something similar. Even if you work under the main part of the JFU, many of the Master Strikers will ask you to watch things of other matches in your spare time (If you haven’t already) and ask you what you see in terms certain criteria or even just in general sometimes so they have somebody else looking at it. However, they will try to explain to you the whole football aspect of it the first few times they have you look over something.

Reading Others - Another really good thing that can be used on the field, even if you don’t fully understand it. Being able to see what others are doing, even if they don’t know they are doing it can be good in both aspects of being on the field and working off the field. As a manager, you have to be around all of the teams, and making sure their okay is most likely one of the things you would do. Seeing things like that, and maybe even things that could be impacting their performance would be super helpful, especially in a place like Blue Lock. Most of the people there end up trusting you the most to talk to just because of that. And also that you would probably figure it out before they do.

Ego Color - Light Yellow

Romantic - Reo Mikage

Reo I believe is both somebody who could just sit down and listen, urging you to go on even when you stop, and can be somebody who would love to have conversations with you. Though, he may ask you to slow down sometimes and may ask what you meant to say when you combine 2 words together, but never will he tell you to stop unless he absolutely has to. Thinks it’s absolutely adorable when you act a little ditzy, and forgetful, and every time he will try to either remind you or explain it to you. Understands what it’s like to be underestimated by his family and never wants to put in you that position as well, so he tries his best to not think about it in that way, especially since he knows that there are many things that you are very good in, but not everybody is good in everything. Loves being your tutor for anything you might not understand. I can definitely see you being somebody that he can rely on a lot, especially after the whole thing with Nagi and their friendship, being somebody he can turn to meant a lot to him. Tries to be somebody who boots your confidence, he sees how good you are in what you love and tries to be that person who can be your cheerleader and make you stop second-guessing yourself and get that confidence you need, even if it is just a little bit at a time. Loves putting on songs that you like, and dancing around his room with you, even if you can’t dance all that well, he’ll try his best to teach you. Watching shows with you any chance he gets is so nice for him, being able to just sit and cuddle up on the couch, starting with a show you love to watch and whether you fall asleep or not, doesn’t matter to him, he just loves being around you. Will gift you stuff with cinnamon whenever he gets back from someplace new, or even when he’s just out and around town and sees something cinnamon he thinks you’d like.

Friends - Bachira Meguru, and Kenyu Yukimiya

Bachira Meguru

The besties. I can just tell from reading about you. Yapping sessions are such a must with him, the topic could change every 5-10 seconds and it wouldn’t matter, and loves when you conversate along with him, even being somebody else to urge you and continue (though its hard to stop when you talk to him). Loves your random questions and will spend many hours trying to figure out some sort of answer with you, and even coming up with many, many, many more to solve later on. Will be somebody who will laugh at you when you hit a pole while walking, but in superpopulated areas he will try to direct you around.

Kenyu Yukimiya

Loves listening to you talk, and being able to learn all about the rabbitholes that you end up going down. Won’t always talk with you, but loves to be a listener to all your rambles. Just like Reo, he tries to remember things for you, and maybe sets up reminders in texts or on your phone if you tell him about them. The person to make sure that you don’t hit poles while you're walking. Likes to talk about book recommendations as well, even if you don’t read the same genre most of the time I could see him trying one or two books that you might have talked about just to understand you better.

Who has a crush - Alexis Ness

The first time he saw you I think that he really, really liked you. He saw you talking to Yukimiya in one of the common areas and he just was enamored, just by the way you spoke and the way that you looked he wanted to be Yukimiya in that situation. Didn’t learn until later on that you didn’t really understand football and was going to try and use that as a talking point, until he learned that you were already dating Reo, and could see how happy you were when you were talking to him, or he was attempting to help you in some of your studies or learning the rules of football. Though, he does still have small conversations with you from time to time, and looks at you whenever you happen to show up in the German stratum, he can tell how happy you look with Reo and will never try to get in the middle of it.

Parental Figure - Lavhino

He may not seem like the best parental figure, but at the same time, you’re already friends with Bachira and he understands the way that you act. Even encourages it from time to time, he doesn’t mind that you like talking, and if anything he’ll even talk with you, about whatever it is, but most of the time he will also be talking with you. Also, somebody that would try and up your confidence, I mean he was pretty confident in himself, and he thinks, especially when he learns more about you that you should be at least a little more confident, and will very much try to get it up.

[hotricebowlsoup]

And the Snakes Begin to Sing

(evamon, 1.8k, relationship study, canon compliant + my own flourishes)

She’s the first you meet. The world began when you leaned in close and she snapped her eyes open, boring into yours.

Your trust is not misplaced in the Ultimate Liar, ironically. From the moment you meet her to the end of your first trial, she speaks fluidly in your language, facts and truth.

Even when she disrupts the suffocatingly optimistic atmosphere with a well-intentioned warning.

Oddballs stick together, you bitterly suppose, as everyone shoots you dirty looks after agreeing with her sentiment. You convince yourself you’re not doing this for her, you’re not doing this for anyone—

The glimpse you catch of her fisted hand and furrowed brows makes your noisy mind come to a stop.

You leave the courtroom before you can bear to look back again.

It’s not really a surprise when you wake up the next morning, cast out from the main group after your shenanigans yesterday. Nor is it surprising to be cast out with her. 

The so-called “Ultimates” flock to Wolfgang like a herd of sheep to its shepard, brainless and dependent. Desperate to grasp at hope in this desolate sanctuary. Between the two of you, you figure he’s more snake-like than you are, giving the hungry mindless purpose like a carrot on a stick, the tempter who offers the apple to Eve.

But then your Liar shares something exclusive with you for the first time, and your spite towards Wolfgang’s cult matters no more.

(If you’d known the poster in the laboratory was Eva’s apple, perhaps you could’ve saved the only person who truly knew you.)

Although, your Eden crumbles a little after the rather anticlimactic reveal.

It baffles you, why anyone would choose to play the role of someone dangerous in an already dangerous situation. It baffles you because that’s the last thing you’d do, and the last thing you’d thought someone of her caliber would do. It baffles you because her now demolished lie was the reason you both are outcasts.

It baffles you because you thought she, your Liar, was the only one you could trust.

-

When free time begins, your legs bring you to her at once.

You find her in the underground level, where you first met. She tells you she’s avoiding the others; you hope she doesn’t mean you, too.

“I expected the Ultimates to wear their titles with pride,” You point out, very aware of the depressed look on her face. “But for you, that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“It doesn't… fit well.”

She tells you about her world, enclosed in a box, obstructed by a frame. Despite her best efforts to push beyond the boundaries set upon her by others, they are nothing.

Who reads a literature essay written by a highschool mathlete?

It’s not something you can relate to, since you’ve never bothered to stray towards a path that doesn’t lead to a podium. You don’t know how it feels to make a greater, scarier name for yourself yet ultimately fail because of a silly title that defines you forever.

You don’t know what keeps you listening to her. Even when she cracks her first joke with you, and calls you gullible.

You don’t know what pulls you back to her in your next available time.

She tells you about her world again, because you’re her only willing audience. That she, an Ultimate, was treated lesser than a dog for her talent. That she, instead of attaining recognition and awe like you did with your title, lost all friendships the average girl should’ve had.

Despite your attitude, you couldn’t help but feel bad for her. (Even if you find it kind of funny how her hair untwirled itself when she spoke of her depressing story, too.)

It’s unexpectedly mundane after she leaves, you find. Probably because the Ultimate Debater can’t stand a silent house.

That’s probably it.

-

Your roommate is with you when she seeks you out for the first time. The Ultimate Influencer unabashedly makes a big fuss when Eva tries to pull you away alone, and if you weren’t already waiting for the next opportunity to speak to her, you would’ve found Kai’s (rather loud) concern to be well-intentioned.

Or maybe not, you suppress a sigh, as he walks away giggling to himself, muttering “freaking mathlete” under his breath.

You keep your eyes on her. She’s silent, eyes trained on the floor. Her hand fists her long sleeves, like the sight from the courtroom you couldn’t forget even if you tried.

Her eyes flutter upwards, meeting yours. You ignore the loosening of her grip, or the slowing of her heaving chest, in favor of keeping your eyes trained on hers. When she exhales calmly after a few moments, you feel yourself relaxing along with her.

Alone again in the underground level, she gives you another piece of her.

“Why are you showing this to me?”

She raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, and you feel like a stupid math question. “Because I’m worried, duh.”

Duh. Slang sounds kind of weird coming from her. It feels unnatural, unpracticed, like she’s never spoken it before. You know why, and you surprise yourself by keeping your words to yourself.

But she surprises you more. “It’s because… I trust you.”

You?

“I’m… really sorry about how things turned out.”

What for?

“The other students wouldn’t have treated you unfairly if it wasn’t for me.”

It is, well, kind of her fault, but you figure you’re unlikeable enough to gain enemies by yourself. You had a choice to stay silent after the trial, but you deliberately chose to take her side.

And, when you look at her downcasted expression, how could you bear to blame her for any of it?

As a consolation of sorts, you give her a small piece of you, too.

Wolfgang’s blackmail is handled delicately by her, yet the words from her mouth are harsh and crude. While you agree that your classmates weren’t… intellectually capable of distrusting Wolfgang, there’s an extremely transparent reason why they didn’t believe Eva instead.

“Why did you do it?”

“...Huh?”

“You knew you were in a dangerous situation. Why would you draw so much negative attention to yourself like that?” You hiss the next part with equal amounts of condescension and worry. “Don’t you realise how much danger this has put you in?”

When she gives you a look that you can instantly recognise, you realise how frightening it is that you can read her quickly. “You know you can’t run away this time. Give me an answer.”

“Because…” 

Before today, despite your closeness with her, there was always a line that couldn’t be crossed. Before today, your Liar stayed in her bubble, guarded and untrusting from past experiences.

But you have burst through her bubble, your arms outstretched, the first light in Eva’s world. The wall shatters around you both. You can see her. You can feel her. Damned be it if you two were forced comrades, with no obligation to mingle— you will erase the distance that separates her from you.

The facade is finished, the line is crossed, and you see she’s a sheep at heart, donning the mask of a carnivore. To see yet another sunrise, another sunset, without the fear of being someone’s dinner.

With a phantom ache in your chest, you implore her to trust you as you do the same for her.

Then, she does something you’ve never seen her do before.

“...Hm.”

She smiled.

-

The longer the time you spend with her, the goofier your impression of her is.

And yet, you keep returning to her.

-

“Eva.” Silence.

“ Eva. ”

Your Liar barely spares you a glance, before returning to her game console. This girl…

Bending down a little, you tap her hand to pull her gaze upwards. Her hand is soft. Her gaze is intense. Her face is close.

You pester her about the console. She simply ignores you, puffing out her cheeks and pouting to the side. “If I partake in conversation, will you leave me alone?”

“That’s an eloquent way to get me to shut up.” 

“...It’s not that.”

“So you do want to have a conversation.”

Triumphant in your victory, you allow the edges of your lips to twitch upwards. Your cheeks hurt a little from the lack of exercise.

She stares at you for a short while, and it dawns on you this was probably the first time anyone saw you smile.

(Your smile is quickly erased as she continues to play theatrics with a poker face, making you question your sanity whenever she attempts to joke. It’s unimpressive, it’s bizarre, it’s… endearing.)

“And you never know…” She murmurs, matching the smile you lost. Your heart stops for a split second. “...maybe I’ll change my mind and play in the tournament later.”

Your Liar is subtly different from the girl you first met. Here, sitting in this chair, she looks more relaxed and content than ever. Her bubble is shattered, yet she is safe. With that smile on her face, even with her eyes closed, she’s almost radiant.

It pains you to say it, but smiling is a good look on her.

You don’t recognise yourself when you start wishing she’d do it more.

-

When the class trial inevitably came, you’d known your Liar would be actively participative, pointing her finger at those she had good reason to suspect.

You just never thought you’d be at the end of it.

As the usually composed Eva Tsunaka gradually gets more agitated, you try to dismiss the betrayal as her vengeance after you called out her name with a shaking voice.

Without knowing, your heart breaks. Once. Twice.

Without knowing, the bubble you burst is back up. The wall is rebuilt, stronger than ever. The line you thought you crossed was further than you realised. She is unreachable, unreadable. She is no longer yours to know. The panic, the hatred on her face… where is the girl who smiled and shared secrets with you?

Fact is undeniable. An argument holds no water if there is no indisputable evidence to back it up. Not that you are unconfident in your theory, or that you are hesitant to bring her to justice.

It just breaks your heart a third time to demolish her with the same language, facts and truth, that you found solidarity with her.

You will make sure this is her final lie (to you).

-

The rebuilt bubble that obstructs her from you matters no more. Not when its occupant is dead, anyway.

However cruel and gory her execution was, you can’t bear to look away from the one person you believed and hoped was on your side.

The end comes, after an excruciatingly long time. The courtroom is enveloped in a deafening silence. All of you watch as the crow’s feather, unmistakably hers, flutters to the ground. It never moves again, no matter how long you look at it.

A part of you wonders if she truly was the Ultimate Liar all along.

It doesn’t extinguish the wetness on your cheek, o r the bubble you feel forming around you.

[deramin2]

I think anyone complaining about Bell's Hells morality as we near the end of Critical Role Campaign 3 and whether they truly get to claim they're representatives of the Exandrian people should go watch How To Blow Up A Pipeline (2022) about direct action environmental rights activists. And the documentary Hit & Stay (2013) about the anti-Vietnam War Catholic Far Left activists while you're at it. Or The Trial of the Catonsville Nine (1972) which is based on a play written by one of the priests profiled in Hit & Stay about their trial (grandstanding in the trial was one of the intents of being arrested).

It turns out that when you're not in a binary morality unquestioned heroism YA novel that what is justified in fighting systems of oppression and what the right thing to do is actually becomes hard to determine and largely driven by internal feelings and rage at injustice.

Who determines who gets to have a big say? Who determines what actions are justified when no one will listen to the harm being done? Who determines what is overall the more harmful action? Especially when you can't know the future except that there is no option where tremendous harm is not done. Who determines which step along any road is "right" or even "wise?" Especially when they are taken one by one by specific people who are swept up by the events of their own lives and not predetermined by an all-seeing all-knowing Author writing backwards from the ending?

Playing a game isn't the same as acting in the real world at great personal cost, but real life is a kind of improv. Long form improv doesn't start with how the ending should get tied up. It's about how every single split second decision adds up to a cumulative finale. Things not turning out how you'd have played them out if you already knew everything and were living someone else's life is what reality is like.

The normal state of affairs is people making decisions you don't agree with. "They shouldn't have done that" is boring and useless analysis that shuts down further thought and dismisses what anyone else has to say. "Why did they do that" is what media literacy is about. Campaign 3 was never heroic fantasy (arguably C1 & C2 weren't either). It's a character study in people doing what they feel they must in the moment it's happening without any assurances at all that it's the right thing. It's about not having confidence and surety but having to act anyway. That's the entire point.

How To Blow Up A Pipeline (2022) is a great expression of that same dynamic. They have enough confidence to keep telling each other this is the most necessary action they can take because they don't know what the future looks like, but one where they did nothing isn't one they can stand to live through. Is blowing up this pipeline in the way they are planning to the best possible course of action morally and strategically? Literally nobody knows that. They can't possibly know that. It only matters that these people got to that point, and now it's all happening flaws and all. For love, for revenge, for discord in the face of a society that acts like this is normal. A bunch of righteous fuckups just trying to survive in a harsh world made harsher by the status quo.

If nearly 437 hours of game play was too much to sit through to get that point across, maybe 104 minutes will work better.

[ficmeouttahere]

I'm here to agree and further my Switch!Agatha agenda bc yes she will bottom and that woman will be babied like imagine the pillow princess treatment she deserves ugh

Eve, Rachel, Chris, Carla and, Agatha

In your mind explain, in excruciating detail, why each is either a top/bottom/switch.

We’re going insane. Mutuals look the fuck away.

MUTUALS LOOK AWAY!

OK this is going off of what we get from their shows/movies so people cannot be in here arguing! 😤

Eve: Switch. She is legit down and in for anything and everything as long as she gets what's in her dirty little head out (and I love that for her❤️) I mean we see it with the spanking scene, she changes the pitch of her voice to be the dom and sub during her act-out fantasy!

Rachel: This one is kinda hard because with her shit ass husband she was mostly a bottom BUT, if she and McKenna actually hooked up? Hmmm no I think it would be the same. I think when she realized what she was missing during that lap dance like, someone who could be in control and make her feel that good? 👀

Chris: TOP. You gotta let her; she has to. She is in her zone when she's in charge. She gets an idea in her head and she has to run with it and you are not gonna change her mind or knock her down a peg (hehe peg)

Carla: Carla, my beloooooovedddddd ❤️ I know the obvious answer is top because of her personality and how she carries herself, but I can see her bottoming for the right partner. Switch, but it's gotta be on her playing terms.

Agatha: I KNOW EVERYONE SAYS SHES THE TOP, AND I GET THAT, BUT HEAR ME OUT....I'm straying from the facts on this one... She is SO fun to write as a bottom. Like, truly. Most of my fanfics she is, and Rio is the one with all the power over Agatha, and I like the dynamic, but yall out here saying it's Agatha topping so 🤷🏻‍♀️

[dykedvonte]

Curly not immediately punishing Jimmy for assaulting Anya is something I don’t think a lot of people are viewing in the complex context for Curly as the superior to both of them and closest confidante they had.

Like I am in no way saying he didn’t under react or fail Anya by not being harsh or direct with Jimmy but it really is the case that he really couldn’t. Imagine being stuck in such a confined space with very little areas to genuinely hold someone if they commit a crime. It’s not like this was an event that occurred before they departed or that they have easy communication with The Pony Express to ask for how to proceed when something like this arises. Not to mention, Jimmy’s relative power in relation to Anya as the co-pilot and second in command, he has the knowledge and access to do something to her had Curly directly punished him in this setting.

They were also Curly’s friends. It’s not just the case of him mediating something between his subordinates but people he is personally invested in don’t want to see spiral further in Anya’s case while also not wanting believe his friend go that bad in Jimmy’s actions. They were both suicidal and Curly putting Jimmy’s stability first is both out of bias but also the fact he’s aware at some level Jimmy is a danger to himself and others if not constantly placated. Combined with the fact he was in denial or just not piecing together what Anya said it’s hard to say what he buying time for and what he had treat as urgent. This isn’t even saying he doesn’t care about Anya but he’s not going jump to the worst conclusions about his friends even if part of him acknowledges the evidence saying so. It’s a complicated thing but he’s still human and needed to process it on top of trying to keep a ship that already took on a lot of water from further sinking, metaphorically.

I just personally think that while Curly failed Anya, it was a scenario where there wasn’t much he could do to the best thing by her safely and like Jimmy, we are underestimating what a good leader would do in a very fragile and tense situation like he was in. By the time he may have been ready and had a plan, things were much too late.

[silver-horse]

bioware really said "let's release it on halloween... it's so terrible... it's gonna scare the shit out of everyone...the perfect halloween"

[brittlebutch]

btw Still thinking about the moment where Tula first realizes she's literally, mechanically unable to keep up with / catch Jaysohn when he bolts and runs his full speed. That revelation that she's not fast enough to stop him, or get alongside him, much less get in front of him to protect him if he needed it. The dread terror of it. :(