#why must you torture me so my mutuals | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skyrigel · 6 months ago

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Call it what you want || A.B x reader

Pairing: Anthony bridgerton x reader

Summary: hiding in Anthony's study doesn't help when you are bane of his existence, ofcourse he would know and get mad for driving him crazy.

Warning: injury, blood, heavy makeout, mutual pinning, no use of y/n ( ew.) Gn!reader, mild angst :)

Rigel's note 🪩: am I reading bridgerton books again ? Yes, will anything stop me from fretting over lord bridgerton ? Nope.

Words : 1.4 k ( of Anthony being unholy)

My other fic

Anthony bridgerton angst

" You seem distracted my lord." Her voice was smooth and furry but it was almost too good to be, a pretendence. You clamped your mouth even harder when you heard Anthony groan, he was clearly irritated at something.

The table under which you were hiding creaked as Anthony might have stomped his glass. With the force it hit the wood, it cracked and must have drawn blood because Anthony huffed and the other woman almost screamed.

" My lord ! " The woman exclaimed, her tone was half concerned half frustrated, she must have been coming to his aid because lord Anthony cleared his throat soundly.

" No, no...you go outside, I will be back." He said curtly, " please." He added as a small tsk escaped his mouth.

You prayed to every god, every almighty you knew to make Anthony go out too, why was he staying back and if she had also then what would have happened to your holy heart—

You thought train came to an halt when Anthony's voice boomed across the room.

" Get out." Anthony was calm but it was only the calmness that followed before a catastrophic storm, oh shit.

Maybe it's not you, maybe it was meant for someone else and maybe—

" Are you coming out on you own or do you want me to come and get you ? " You swore you heard a glint of amusement but that could be trick of your heart as it was so close to exploding, it punched against your ribs and your breath almost hinged in your throat as you dipped your head to come out from your confined space.

Stupid, so, so stupid, thinking to escape your feelings as lord Viscount smiled and winked the night away only to end up in his office and it was so close to watching your own heart broke into a thousand small pieces.

Your knees buckled as you stood straight, smoothing your dazzling attire as Anthony gaze peirecd you, something dark covered his iris and he looked so smug with his bloodied hand tending to a glass full of whiskey, his legs sprawled across the couch in the most unholiest way but you shouldn't think about that, also, he looked very, very, mad.

" So-"

" It was a mistake! " You beat him, blurting as heat crept up slowly and you wished it wasn't as shaky as it sounded.

" Mistake ?! " He drawled unamused, his brow furrowing together as he stood up, you missed the display but there were other pressing matters.

" Your hand—"

" You, you and your lavender scent ! " He snapped, " what do you think you were doing here ? " His mouth was parted as if he was experiencing something wrecking inside him.

" What—" you began but his eyes snapped at you, like a predator and he fisted his hand that was too painful to watch as drops of red hot fluid dripped down.

" Why do you torment me ? You like it, don't you ?! " His eyes were shining, he swallowed hard at the lump forming in his throat and you felt your mouth going dry, instinctively you licked your lips and that may have fueled whatever Anthony was accusing you of, another entire torment.

" Do not." He bellowed, anger, maybe, something blazing reached his eyes and it was bright enough to turn your bones to ashes and blood a mere vapour, " don't do this to me, no, no, no ....day and night, whenever and forever, stop this torture, stop this haunting ! "

" What have I done Anthony ? " You felt your chest heaving and a soft choked noise escaped your throat, Anthony gave a strangled laugh as he mouthed, what have I done, so smugly that you felt an almost urge to wipe that from him, tear it from his lips with your own and it scared you so much that you tore your gaze from his burning eyes to his bleeding hand, still bleeding.

" Stop." You told him as he tried to pull away from your touch, " you will hurt yourself my lord." You hoped it was a glare you were aiming at, Anthony gave you a humour me look but gave in to you.

You slid out your handkerchief, folding it in a triangle as you pulled it around his palm, whatever noises he made were too distracting.

" I beg you." It came as whsiper, a pleading.

You tied a knot not hard and not loose as you glanced at Anthony, already drinking you in.

" What have I done Anthony ? " You asked him again, feeling the coiling in your stomach as it latched when Anthony brought his other hand, the uninjured that wasn't in your hands, to caress your jaw.

His thumb curved around your chin as his lips parted in a gasp, " You ask me what have you done ? Yet you do it all the time, drive me crazy..." He exhaled as you looked at him with blown eyes and heavy lids, his thumb ghosted the corner of your mouth, your face was suddenly too close to him and it was just mere inches, the distance was everything and nothing and you were suddenly too aware of everything that was pressing into Anthony and the rest hardly mattered.

" You look at me with those pretty eyes and say those mean words of yours with that soft mouth...how can I stop you ? Invading all my dreams and turning my world upside down ! " His thumb pressed upon your closed mouth as you reflexively parted, his soft pink pad wet from the salvia gathering up.

He smiled ans hummed along, his knuckles lifting the base of your base, where your chin met your throat.

" Do you have any idea ? " He almost mocked, his word were almost whsipers while your breath were apology shot in the dark, did he not know how much he was to be blamed ?

" You torment me just the same." You looked at him with stars in your eyes, your light fingers caressed his injured hand's wrist as Anthony raised a brow. He was very amused.

" You don't understand, you never do ! " You almost cried as tears swelled up in your eyes, you hated the way your bones tugged at your skin, Anthony shaked his head as he tried to speak, open his mouth only to close it again.

You watched him desperately as you wanted this torment to end now, no more of this ache that your carried with in your soul.

" My lord....Anthony." you croaked, plea, begging, asking, needing, and somewhere between sinning and wanting, call it what you want, the space between you and him disappeared as his lips found yours and it was as if kissing the sun, it burnt but oh the glea, the feeling that nothing mattered but this, like fireworks bursting in thousand orbs of sparkle and something inside you wavered but Anthony held you, like it would be over, gone and dead between void if he let go of his hold on your waist and you felt the same as you pressed your lips closer and closer, a moment of cosmic love. Anthony knew what he was doing as you flicked your lips to part with his tongue, licking over your lower lip as if it were his religion, so sacred and holy, his hands pulling you closer and it wasn't even possible the way he swooped you in.

" An..thony ! " You half moaned, half yelped as he nipped at your lower lip, not hard to draw blood but hard enough to swell the soft skin, his nose grazed your cheeks, sniffing over the lavender's scent that short circuited his brain.

He tried to tease, to deprive you the taste of his lips as he pulled for a breath but he was too intoxicated and dipped for another passionate kiss that felt like flying too high and just dropping, down, down and down.

" Stop this torment..." You exhaled as his hand pulled your whole body in his lap, another carding through your hair, whispering soft words of praise that shouldn't have the effect it was having own you.

Anthony pulled to look right into your eyes, his eyes were dazed a similar flush bloomed across his beaming skin.

His uninjured hands slowly crept along your thighs as he mouthed with the devilish mouth of his, " I will."

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stayinlimbo · 7 months ago

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We Become We

pairing: husband!lee minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, marriage of convenience, fluff, poor attempts at me trying to be funny, mc's gender is not specified word count: 1.02k note: i am not dead yay. i tried my best since i haven't had time to write for almost a month so please take this as a peace offering ♡

Marriage. It’s an interesting concept, isn’t it?

You’ve always thought so, at least. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc.

Yours happens to be a man named Lee Minho. The same man you’ve been friends with for as long as you can remember. The same man who asked you to marry him for a reason you didn’t get to learn until he was already down on one knee.

(“I’m sorry, you want me to WHAT?” “Marry me. Please, I need health insurance.”

“Okay, yes, sure, whatever; now please get off the floor. People are staring.”)

Lee Minho, who, after dragging you to the courthouse and legally becoming your husband, finally elaborated on how his job would pay him more and cover both of your health insurances if he was married. So really, in his words, he was “doing you a huge favor” by marrying you.

And, in all honesty, he really was. No, you didn’t have a ring to show off your new husband’s weird skill at finding loopholes in company policy, and you’re like thirty-five percent sure the two of you are committing some kind of marriage fraud, but does it really matter when you can finally start using the hot water in your dingy apartment without worrying if you’ll have enough money to fund your crippling caffeine addiction? The government will have to drag you kicking and screaming before you resort back to mankind’s cruelest form of torture: cold showers.

Not to mention that marriage didn’t even change your relationship with Minho. And why would it? You’re still you, and he’s still him. He gets on your nerves just the same, maybe even a little bit more after he decided to frame your marriage certificate in his living room and send a photo to all your mutual friends. You’ll never forgive Minho for laughing at your helplessly panicked state when the group chat wouldn’t stop exploding with messages and incessant calls.

You’re still his best friend that resides in his apartment four out of seven days of the week while he inhabits yours for the other three. Maybe that’s why, two weeks after your “wedding,” when it was time to renew your lease, Minho suggested with a simple shrug of his shoulders that you move in with him since “you’re here all the time anyway.”

You’ve really got to learn how to say no to him because now you wake up next to your best friend/roommate/husband in his one bedroom, one bathroom apartment at the crack of dawn with a light pressure on your chest and fur in your face when his cats decide you need to wake up right now to feed them.

Not to say you don’t like the new arrangement! No, that would be the furthest from the truth.

Sure, you didn’t appreciate your skin care routine being interrupted by the unexpectedly high-pitched scream Minho let out when he saw you in a face mask for the first time, and what kind of person still has their phone’s brightness turned up all the way before bed? But who else would willingly tolerate your deliriousness before your morning coffee or indulge in your pleas to cook your favorite food three days in a row?

Living with Minho has only made the purely platonic feelings you harbor for him grow stronger.

That’s what the fluttering in your chest means every time you see him, right? The reason for the smile that grows on your face when you hear the distinct jingling of keys at the front door?

Yeah, that must be why heat spread across your cheeks when he handed you his phone to text one of his friends back, because since when did the heart emoji make an appearance next to your pinned contact name?

You just care about each other, that’s all. It’s normal to want to make sure he arrived at work safely and ask how his day is going during your lunch breaks. It’s normal to start receiving back hugs before bed—a comforting weight as Minho’s chin rests on your shoulder while you apply the rest of the products to your face.

It’s natural to have doubts about the nature of your relationship during an evening walk, acutely aware of his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you silently study his features illuminated by the soft glow of the scattered streetlights. What if he meets someone else and falls in love with them and wants a divorce and– oh.

Has he always looked at you like that? With his gaze softening as it locks with yours? With the corners of lips lifting into the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen? With all the stars shining above you finding a second home in his eyes? A look so loving that it takes your breath away and you can’t tell if you’re about to laugh or cry in relief.

And when you return home to get ready for bed, the familiar feeling of hands wrapping around your waist and a careful pressure resting by the crook of your neck quells the remnants of your worries.

It’s you and Minho. Minho and you, just as it always has been. Just as it’s always meant to be.

The distance between your bodies on the bed becomes nonexistent when you curl yourself into his side, laying your head on his shoulder and intertwining your legs with his as he immediately, unhesitantly, adjusts his arm, his fingertips finding purchase on exposed skin and roaming across the span of your back. A kiss to the top of your head is the last thing you feel before the gentle lull of breathing and the rise and fall of his chest begin to soothe you to sleep.

…

Ah, marriage—what an interesting concept. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc.

You love your husband, and you’re beginning to think he loves you too.

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn

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kyuujo · 15 days ago

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↳ screen time!

↳ michael kaiser x fem!reader ↳ nsfw ↳ voyeurism, slightly dubcon (reader is recorded without explicit knowledge), mutual masturbation (sort of), perv!kaiser, voyeur!kaiser, solo male masturbation, language, dirty talk, fantasies, sexual tension(ish), sexual pining, overstimulation, i think i got everything pls lmk if you catch something!

↳ 1.3k words

↳ uwaaah dahlings!! thank you guys so much for 106 followers!! it means so much to me! i’m so happy i can provide some entertainment to so many of you <333 it makes me so happy to do that TwT) this piece is actually a repost from my (deleted) blog, and i’m thinking it’ll be the last repost i do (idk why but reposting just feels weird to me T-T) but i hope you guys enjoy!! thank you so much for reading (im so sorry that this note was so long i had so much to yap about)

kaiser knew he was abusing a system that he shouldn’t even have knowledge of — but he simply couldn’t control himself.

the instant ness had clued him in on that little piece of information about the camera system, kaiser’s mind shifted straight to you; cute, quiet, shy little you. and ness, bless his soul, didn’t question kaiser even once when he requested (demanded) that ness find a way to hack into the secondary cameras hidden within the personal rooms of the facility.

kaiser wasn’t sure why jinpachi ego had felt the need to install such a security system, but he was deeply thankful for it.

because there would be no other way kaiser could ever witness this beautiful sight over and over again — you laid out across your bed, legs spread and fingers working over time plunging into your sloppy little cunt.

slick squelches and soft moans echoed through the earphones and traveled straight to kaiser’s dick, which was already hard and leaking despite only having started the recording less than a minute ago.

that was just the visceral effect you had on him; you could brick him up instantly with just a single glance in his direction.

and seeing you like this — oh, the effect was catastrophic. kaiser swears his dick has never been harder before, that he’s never felt so turned on and sensitive, each stroke of his hand down the shaft electrifying and borderline overwhelming — and when he ran the pad of his thumb along the tip to collect the dripping pre his whole body nearly convulsed.

it was amazing, satisfying, and yet so, so torturous. because at the moment, all kaiser could do was stare at your pretty cunt swallowing your fingers and imagine how it would feel for those velvet walls to be closing around his cock instead.

and suddenly, his hand just didn’t feel good enough anymore — kaiser imagined you must have felt the same way about your fingers, given the scrunch of your eyebrows and how desperate your movements were; it just wasn’t enough. you clearly needed something longer and thicker to fill you up.

and kaiser could do that for you — oh, how he would make you feel so good. he’d slide his cock in nice and slow so could you could feel him inch for inch, so you could enjoy that satisfying stretch it’d give your tight little pussy. he’d fuck into you recklessly in the same way you’re doing with your fingers while whispering sweet little nothings in your ear just to feel your walls flutter around him.

“so good, meine schöne rose,” kaiser whispered as he tightened his fingers around his cock, eyes zeroed in on your fingers sliding into that sweet nirvana between your legs. for a moment, kaiser could almost convince himself that he was buried inside your tight little pussy and not his own hand. “keep going. that’s it.”

kaiser’s breathing was quickly laboring, his abdomen twitching and tightening with every quick stroke of his hand. your soft moans and whimpers spurred that heat within his gut, and if he closed his eyes and focused, kaiser could feel your plump lips against his ear, honeyed voice begging him to fuck harder, to fuck you completely stupid, until all you could think about was his cock —

kaiser’s eyes snapped open when his ears were graced with a particularly loud moan from the earphones, and that liquid heat in his gut ramped up to a boiling point at the sight he was greeted with.

your other hand had abandoned its stationary place on your stomach and was now rubbing fast circles against your pretty clit in time with your thrusting fingers, and your whole body was trembling from the new stimulus. kaiser had seen this enough times to know exactly what was soon to come.

“oh, sweet girl.” kaiser murmured reverently, chest fluttering and hand picking up speed around his cock. “so fuckin’ pretty like that.”

and you were — you were so fucking breathtaking. eyes slipped shut and plump lips parted to release those sweet, sultry moans; fingers sliding into the prettiest folds and rubbing against the cutest clit; that perfect body trembling and shaking.

it was a vision of pure erotic perfection that was etched permanently into kaiser’s mind; a vision that he craves to see in person while he ravages you with his cock.

“c’mon, meine rose. you’re so close.” kaiser cooed, hand jacking his cock so fast that his wrist was beginning to ache — but there was no way he was going to slow down, not when you were both so close, hanging onto the precipice of pure rupture. his gut clenched almost painfully and his balls twitched, signaling the fast approach of his climax.

“i’m gonna cum, sweet girl. mmh — fuck, ah — you’re gonna make me cum — i’m coming —”

kaiser had to bring his other hand up and clamp his teeth around it to muffle the sounds that bubbled up in his throat. all it took was three more strokes and he was exploding, warm, sticky ropes shooting all the way up to his chest. kaiser couldn’t even control the moans that slipped out, nor could he control the way his hips jerked up to fuck his cock into his tight fist as he rode out his orgasm, eyes glued to the screen in front of him.

your escalating moans seemed to add even more fuel to the fire, stretching out kaiser’s orgasm to the point that his cock became almost unbearably sensitive — but he kept pumping his fist slowly, keeping his cock alive as he reached forward with a shaky hand to restart the video.

“just once more, meine schöne rose. make me cum one more time.”

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader

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achromatophoric · 2 months ago

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Bianca: Hold up. Addams, are you saying that in all the times you’ve been to the dentist, they’ve never found a cavity?

Wednesday: You misunderstand. While I respect any profession that strikes fear in the general population, I have not once needed the services of a dentist.

Enid: *playing on phone*

Bianca: You’re kidding. Never?

Wednesday: I do not “kid.”

Bianca: So you just what, brush and floss?

Wednesday: While I do enjoy the routine of practicing strict oral hygiene, I do not require it. My teeth are, and always will be, perfect.

Bianca: Bullshit. That’s impossible. You must have had some dental issue before. What about— *snaps fingers* Baby teeth! What about your baby teeth?

Wednesday: *lips thin*

Enid: *admonishingly* Babe.

Wednesday: *grunts* Fine. I will admit to having forfeited one deciduous tooth.

Bianca: So you have had— wait, just ONE!?

Wednesday: Yes. It was a necessary sacrifice, to serve as bait.

Bianca: 🤨

Bianca: For what?

Enid: *puts away phone* For her tooth fairy!

Bianca: 😦

Wednesday: *sighs* If you must know, in my youth I captured my tooth fairy. For weeks after I tortured—

Enid: They became fast friends!

Bianca: 😧

Wednesday: *glares* It is an alliance formed out of mutual respect and a shared appreciation for displaced teeth.

Enid: Oh please, Teethtania and you get on like that house you set on fire last week.

Bianca: Teethta— what does that have to do with perfect teeth??

Wednesday: Is it not obvious? Our alliance includes a deal. Teeth for teeth. Think of it as a dental plan that provides total security.

Enid: Totes! She even got me added to it!

Bianca: *under breath* But tooth fairies aren’t—

Wednesday: Thank you for reminding me, Enid.

Bianca watches as Wednesday produces a small felt pouch from her uniform pocket. The seer gives it three rattling shakes, then chatters her teeth. The staccato noise builds until it can no longer realistically originate from only one mouth. Or a dozen.

Bianca: What. The. Actual. Fuck?

From the hidden places tumble out pearly white teeth. They sprout from dirt and out between cobblestone cracks. Worm their way out of tree knots. Slither from gaps in light fixtures. A chittering tide that gathers like a horde of ivory beetles, slotting together with clicks and clacks until….

Teethtania: *chatters and waves*

Enid: Howdy back atcha, Double T! I love what you did with your wings!

Teethtania: *flutters hot pink insectile wings and chitters*

Bianca: 😨

Wednesday: If you two are quite done with pleasantries, here are the rest. Two werewolf, one gorgon, one siren, and eight hyde. As agreed.

The bag is tossed to the Wednesday-sized figure of ever-shifting teeth. It She catches it and the chattering hum intensifies, somehow sounding pleased as the bag’s contents crawl out to join the mass of oral bone.

Teethtania: *clatters and bows*

Wednesday: Excellent. Have a terrible day, Teethtania.

Enid: *waves* Toodles!

The tooth fairy abruptly falls apart in a shower of teeth, each one scurrying back to the hidden place from which it came.

Bianca: 😨

Wednesday: Now then, mi corazón, how did you want to celebrate?

Enid: *whoops* CANDY!

Wednesday: As you so desire. Shall we? *offers pinkie*

Enid: *links pinkies* Obvi. Bye, B!

Wednesday only offers a curt nod to Bianca in farewell before the two head off for Jericho.

Bianca: 😑

Bianca: Fucking weirdoes. Why can’t they just shed old teeth and rotate in new ones, like a normal person?

#the tooth fairy #dental health #incorrect wenclair #incorrect wednesday addams #incorrect wednesday quotes #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #bianca barclay #wenclair #wednesday netflix #incorrect quotes

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cryptic-klepto · 6 months ago

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Yall are the Nazi's useful idiots. Block me.

I don't have mutuals because if I give any of you long enough you'll inevitably prove to be Jew Haters. I've blocked half this hellsite because you crypto-fascists masquerading as progressives can't read my pinned post BEGGING you to block me first. "Haha this person posts funny/informative posts. I'll follow them! ...Oh wait they mindlessly eat up nazi and terrorist propaganda like they're fistfuls of shredded cheese direct from the fridge at 2AM. Well nevermind then. Unfollow/blocked." Palestine will not be free or at peace with Israel destroyed and Hamas in control. Hamas has been murdering, raping, and torturing Palestinians for almost 2 decades. On top of that, so many of yall regurgitate nazi conspiracies and blood libel like you are vultures vomiting up worms to feed other mindless pawns of the Far Right. Leftists have been doing more legwork to promote the agenda of fascism than any Proud Boy or Neo-Nazi Gun Club has in years. Do I seem mad? I am mad. I'm mad that those I care about have to start making plans for when their home countries kick them out or hunt them down. For when YOU hunt them down. Not "if." WHEN. They know that they have nowhere to turn but Israel, the one place that has never turned them away. Every single country refused Jewish refugees during World War 2, during to pogroms, during the purges. Every single one. With one exception. Israel. That's why Israel must survive. Because without Israel, the Jewish people may not. They are a remarkably tenacious people, survived everything the world has ever thrown at them. The Romans, the Nazis, the Soviets, everything. But I don't want my loved ones to be in survival mode for every subsequent generation to follow. I want them to be and feel safe. That's what this is about. Safety. Jewish people, AND Palestinians, are being held hostage by Hamas. Women, children, elderly, the disabled. If you want a ceasefire, then they must be released. It's honestly the simplest and easiest demand Israel could make. Return the innocent. And yes they are innocent. They're only crime was not being Hamas, a crime so many of you openly believe deserves the death penalty. You want to free Palestine? Free Palestine from 17 years of Hamas tyranny. Demand that the hostages be released. Only then can their be a ceasefire. You can't expect Israel to just lay down arms while her people are having their heads cut off. Are you stupid or do you just want Jews to die that badly? Don't answer that. Two things can be true. Free Palestine from Hamas. Free Israel from Netanyahu. Release the hostages, negotiate ceasefire. Stop parroting Far Right propaganda. Jump off the bigoted bandwagon. Failing that, STFU and block me. I'm sick of this shit. Eat glass.

#israel #free palestine from hamas #antisemitism #jew haters #useful idiots #stop it get some help #blood libel #leftist antisemitism #leftist hypocrisy #you are not immune to propaganda #goyim shut up challenge #release the hostages

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augiewrites · 1 year ago

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"secret admirer" - dead poets society (part 3)

summary: y/n joins meeks and pitts for a study session

pairing: anonymous!dead poet x gender neutral reader

word count: 977

previous | next

Y/N approached the bespectacled boy before they could lose their nerve.

“Hey—Meeks, right?”

“Yeah,” he stumbled a bit, surprised to be approached by his usually reserved classmate, “you’re Y/N.”

Y/N chuckled, “that I am.”

He signaled to the taller boy waiting for him by the door—Pitts, Y/N remembered—before he gave them an easy smile, "what can I do for you?"

“You tutor Latin, right? I could use a study partner that actually knows what they're doing,” a laugh, "if you have the time, of course.”

"Oh, sure," he glanced at his watch, “Pitts and I are going to the library during common hour if you want to meet us there.”

Y/N touched Meek’s arm briefly, “thanks, Steven. You're a lifesaver.”

The boy turned a shade of red that rivaled his hair and excused himself.

Relief bloomed in Y/N’s chest as they released a breath they didn’t realize they were holding. Their half-cocked plan was in motion.

_________________________________________

“So much for ‘we’re just going to have to wait and find out’ huh?” Quinn mocked Y/N from their seat at the lunch table.

“Well I can’t just let him be the only player in this whole thing,” Y/N shook the latest letter around, “if he wants to play a game, I want to be the one winning.”

“Y/N, the man is infatuated with you. I wouldn’t exactly call it a game.”

Y/N huffed as they shoved the letter back into their bag, “these things are starting to get annoying.”

“Oh, yeah,” Quinn rolled their eyes, “it must be such a burden to have Whitman reincarnate writing you love letters.”

“Whatever.”

“So, what is your plan, exactly?” Quinn asked around a mouthful of pasta.

Y/N was suddenly bashful, “I honestly didn’t think I would get this far.”

Quinn stared blankly back at Y/N.

“This is the part where you tell me what to do, Quinnie.”

“Torture. Medieval style. Get your answers.”

“You’re truly unbelievable,” Y/N ran a hand through their hair and stood from the table, “I’m going to be nice, and I’m going to study latin. Roll with the punches.”

_________________________________________

Meeks was mildly surprised when Y/N actually showed up at the library. He was well aware that Y/N wasn’t struggling with the subject matter—Welton made sure that its students knew who was at the top of the academic food chain. He was one of the rare lucky ones to be among them. He was curious why Y/N sought him out, but he knew better than to push the subject.

It took nearly all of common hour before Y/N started to feel at ease around the two boys. It seemed the feeling was mutual.

“So, Y/N,” Pitts started, looking bored by his trig homework, “have any hobbies?”

“A few,” Y/N muttered as they finished their last verb conjugation, “I like to read and write. I used to draw, but I barely have time to breathe outside of schoolwork.”

The boys shared a glance that Y/N couldn’t quite decode.

“Welton isn’t exactly a breeding ground for creativity,” Meeks sighed.

“That’s an understatement,” Y/N scoffed, “Welton is where creativity comes to die.”

Another look between the boys.

“Touché,” Meeks drawled, “so…you’re roommates with Quinn, right?”

Pitts grinned as a blush tinted Meeks’ cheeks.

Y/N raised their eyebrows, breaking into a cheeky smile, “yeah, I am.”

Meeks was suddenly very interested in the wall, the bookshelves, his textbook—anything other than Y/N, really.

“Are they…seeing anybody?”

Pitts laughed, earning a scolding hush from the librarian.

“No, they’re not,” Y/N smiled, “I’ll put in a good word for you, Meeks.”

Relief flooded the boy’s features and he was finally able to look at Y/N again, “thanks. I—”

“Like you could pin down someone like Quinn.”

Charlie Dalton had a habit of showing up at the worst times.

“Very nice, Dalton,” Y/N closed their book and slid it into their bag, “that’s my cue to leave.”

“Oh, please. I—”

“Don’t let him get in your head, Meeks,” Y/N looked between their study partners, “see you two around.”

Before Y/N could leave, Pitts called out, “we’re usually here during common hour,” he laughed and nudged Meeks with his elbow, “maybe you could bring Quinn next time.”

Meek’s head turned to Y/N so fast they thought his neck would snap, “could you?”

They grinned, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Y/N could hear the three boy’s rushed whispers as the door closed behind them.

_________________________________________

“So you don’t think it’s either of them? Why?”

Y/N turned onto their side in bed, facing Quinn, who was doing the same.

“I don’t know,” Y/N looked at their nails, “I could just tell they weren’t interested like that.”

Quinn scoffed, “well, we’ve established that you aren’t exactly aware when people are interested like that.”

“Well, they gave me a pretty open invitation to join them again,” Y/N smirked, “maybe you could come and run interference.”

“You’re not taking this seriously enough, Y/N.”

“Whatever,” Y/N flipped to face the wall, “goodnight.”

Y/N couldn’t fall asleep, though.

The issue with infatuation is that it’s nearly impossible to not let it consume you at all times. It burrows deep into the fibers of your very being and suddenly you’re fully engulfed by the idea of that person.

And that’s all this was, really—an idea of a person. Y/N didn’t know what their admirer looked like, how they acted, or even if their proclamations were truthful. Could reality meet the expectations being set by the letters? Y/N didn’t want to admit it to themselves, but they were afraid to find out.

Y/N dreamed of a faceless poet that night.

Their heart ached in the morning.

~~~

part four

#dead poets society #dead poets society x reader #dps boys #dps #dps fanfiction #todd anderson #neil perry #steven meeks #gerard pitts #charlie dalton #knox overstreet #todd anderson x reader #neil perry x reader #steven meeks x reader #gerard pitts x reader #charlie dalton x reader #knox overstreet x reader #dps x reader

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joelswritingmistress · 2 months ago

Text

Neighbors With Benefits: Part 10 (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Life felt completely up in the air. It was as exciting as it was anxiety-ridden. The BMW remained at Joel’s house overnight, and even long after you’d gotten home after your romantic romp in the lake, jealousy and insecurity ate away at your core - not to mention every other heightened emotion you could think that you had no idea what to do with.

He said he wanted this, you reminded yourself. Still, there was a looming dark cloud over your inner paradise in the form of the legal situation between Joel and Cecille. Should she try to convince him to take her back, maybe she would be enticing enough for him to agree to it. After all, this wasn’t some high school couple that was simply calling it quits. This was a marriage.

Your racing thoughts disallowed you to have a solid night’s sleep. Each time you awoke you took a glance out the window to see the car beside Joel’s truck. It was torture. When the morning finally did come, you were pleased to see Cicille enter her vehicle ahead of Joel. The question was, was she going to work, or was she leaving for good?

Your phone went off soon after, and you barricaded yourself in your room to take Joel’s call.

“Hey.” The one word practically came out as a sigh of relief.

“Hey.” Joel cleared his throat, “Look, I’m uh, I’m going golfing with your father after work.”

“Oh, yeah,” you remembered, “That was today huh?”

“Yeah.” He paused, “And then I’m going to get a room somewhere for the night.”

“Like a hotel?”

“Yeah.”

“So, is um… is Cecille staying there permanently then?”

“Honestly, things are a bit of a mess, and there’s nothing legally keeping her from being there. She loves to make my life a hell of a lot more difficult when it’s convenient for her, hence why this thing is ending the way it is.”

“I’m sorry.” You sighed.

“I shouldn’t even be venting all that out to you,” Joel went on. “But, I just wanted to let you know that I wasn’t going to be at the house tonight.”

It felt like a crushing blow that you were potentially losing Joel as a neighbor. Having him right next door was exciting and fun. Sneaking back and forth had been an addicting addition to the relationship. To have his ex-wife appearing out of the blue to take the house back over felt unfair, if their verbal agreement had stated otherwise.

“What hotel are you staying at?”

“I have to make some calls on my lunch break,” he explained. “And, uh… if you’re around I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“I’m around,” you explained with a nod, though you knew he couldn’t see the gesture.

Joel hesitated before speaking again. “Thanks for… understanding. I’m sorry for how this all must seem from your point of view.”

“I trust you,” you said to him. “Divorces happen and from what I’ve heard through the grapevine they’re rarely easy.” You paused a second before adding, “I’m here for you.”

“Thanks.” Joel sighed heavily on the other end of the line, “I, uh… I’m really lucky to have you, honey.”

“The feeling is mutual.” Despite all the heavy feelings, a smile still formed on your face.

“I’ll text ya the name of the hotel this afternoon.”

“Okay.”

“I, uh, I can’t wait to see ya. I know it’s only been since last night but I got used to you sleeping next to me.”

Your heart went from a steady beat to outright pounding in your chest. “I loved waking up next to you.” And I fucking love you! You wanted to shout it. You wanted to cry as you told him. The thought of it alone made you want to burst into tears but you didn’t know why. The feelings were so intense and the circumstances were so up in the air that it left you feeling a bit tossed in all directions. It was overwhelming.

“Well, if you’ll have me, tomorrow morning you will.” Pep returned to his voice as he spoke those words.

“You know by now that I’ll gladly have you.”

“Okay, then,” Joel said, “It’s a date.”

That was enough to hold you over. While the long term held some serious questions, the short term had you back to walking on air. Spending the night at a hotel with Joel already felt like a little slice of heaven. No one would know where you were. No one would be there to potentially interrupt or catch you. In your mind, you could play house again and act in your fantasy world like you were husband and wife.

When you made your way back downstairs to see your mother filling her travel coffee mug, you smiled. “I can make the pasta salad for the picnic tomorrow,” you offered, “And whatever other appetizers will hold overnight. Oh, and I’ll set up the volleyball net this afternoon. Dad’s going golfing, I think.”

“Thank you,” you mother said with a smile. “That would be great.”

“Hey, I’m not going to be home tonight, but I promise I’ll be back for the picnic.”

“You’re staying out?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Holly’s?”

“Mm-hmm.”

You mother squinted her eyes. “Is there… something you’re not telling me?” She asked with playful accusation.

“Like what?”

“Well… you barely stay at this house anymore,” she began, putting a hand up before you could protest,” And it’s fine, you’re a young woman, you can do as you please. But, as your mom, of course I’m a little curious.”

Crap. Where was she going with this?

“Are you in some kind of secret relationship?”

“Mom…” You shook your head.

“With some guy… or even with Holly?”

Your eyes bugged out of your head and you began to laugh. “What? Holly’s been my best friend since middle school.”

“It happens.” She shrugged, making you laugh further. It was a relief that she thought of Holly before Joel, though you knew sooner or later you would have to tell her the truth.

“No,” you giggled now, “I can’t wait to tell her you said that.”

“Oh, don’t make fun of me,” she said, shaking her head, “You girls always teamed up on us moms growing up.”

“Some things never change,” you teased, laughing out loud. In the lighthearted nature of your talk, you almost wanted to blurt out the truth and tell her you were in love with Joel. In your heart, you knew a part of her wouldn’t judge, but the other rational part of her would break down every reason why getting involved with him was a terrible idea - and you didn’t need that right then. Still, you decided to be half honest with your mother. “I am seeing someone,” you admitted.

“I knew it.”

You chuckled, “But, I didn’t want to put anyone in an awkward position so I kept pretending I was staying over at Holly’s”

“Who is he? Did you meet him at school? What was his major?”

“It’s still a bit new,” you explained, “But I really… really like him. A lot.”

Your mom’s face seemed to glow. “You’ve never said that about anyone�� maybe your high school boyfriend, but…” She shook her head, “Oh, I can’t wait to meet him!”

You already have. A smile lingered on your face but you could feel how forced it was from the tense feeling in your cheeks.

“You will,” you explained, “I promise. In time. I just… maybe don’t tell Dad. It’s a weird, in-between time I’m in. I feel like an adult and a kid at the same time and I’m living with you guys and-”

“I get it,” your mother cut you off, “I’ll keep it between us. I’m glad you’ve met someone that makes you… glow.” She grinned, “I knew it. I knew something was different. He treats you nice?”

“Yes,” you said right away, “Very nice. He’s a gentleman. I think you and Dad have set a good example of what to look for in a relationship.” You winked and decided to butter her up a bit - not that it wasn’t true; but sucking up a little wouldn’t hurt once she found out that Joel Miller was your secret lover.

“Your father and I love each other very much,” she concluded, capping her coffee. Your mother smiled and pointed at you, “He’s a good man.”

“And a great Dad.” You exchanged a kiss on the cheek, “And of course you’re a great mom.”

“Stop trying to make me cry before work.” She cupped your face, “My baby is growing up. And it’s hurting me and making me smile all at once.”

You smiled back at her, exchanged another hug and then parted ways for the day. You spent your day cooking and did a little baking before whipping out all of the yard games for the following afternoon. The volleyball net was a little frustrating to set up alone, but you figured it out. And then you followed with setting up cornhole, staking in a set up for horseshoes and even dragging out a set of folding tables so everything was more or less ready for Saturday.

“Hey!” Joel’s voice caught your attention unexpectedly from next door later in the day.

You whipped around with a smile and had the urge to run across the yard to greet him. You played it cool, of course and smiled, staring at him with your hands on your hips.

“Hey!” You shouted back.

“Straighten out those horseshoe pits! They’re cooked!” Joel smiled wide and winked.

You laughed and bit your bottom lip. “Maybe you should come over and straighten them out.”

“I can’t,” he motioned like he was hitting a golf ball, “I’m play golf with my girlfriend’s father.”

He said that loud enough for anyone to hear, but you realized that no one was home to even question it. It made you laugh out loud.

“Keep you ball out of the rough,” you shouted through cupped hands.

Joel began to laugh out loud. He smirked and put his hands out the sides. “No promises.”

Fuck. You wanted to kiss him. No, you wanted to pounce on him.

“Check your phone in about thirty seconds.”

“Okay.”

“Your dad comped me a room on the golf course,” he went on with a shrug, “Felt bad about what’s been going on.”

“He what?”

“I hope that’s okay,” Joel added.

“Oh, yeah…” You hadn’t realized your shock had translated into some form of disapproval, “Of course that’s fine. That’s a really nice hotel.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, “Check in is any time after four. I’ll still be playing then, but you can go whenever you’d like.”

“Do I just use your name?”

“I know it’s probably risky but I gave both of ours.”

You smiled. “Well, I better go inside and freshen up then. I’ve been sweating out here the last hour.”

Joel looked around in all directions before making the trek over to your yard. Your heart rate began to pick up again and you took just a few, nearly-frozen steps toward him. When he reached where you stood he asked, “When do they get home?”

“I, um.. well-”

“Do you have any butter I can borrow?” Joel smiled playfully, reminiscent of the first conversation you’d had together on the back step.

You smiled back and swallowed hard. “I have whatever you need.”

“Is there time?” he asked more directly, looking you in the eye.

“There’s time,” you whispered back, as if someone might hear you.

Joel looked like he wanted to pull you against him and kiss you; but he didn’t. He let out a deep breath, holding your eye contact until you led him inside the back door a step behind you. When you got inside it was as if he had been overseas at war. You didn’t know if you pulled him to you, or he pulled you to him, but your lips crashed against one another’s.

Wondering if you could get caught was the farthest thing from your mind when your hand was tangled in Joel’s wavy hair. He held you with such force and kissed you with such ferocity that you couldn’t hold back what you were feeling.

“I love you,” you gasped in between kisses, “Fuck, I love you, Joel.”

Joel’s tongue dominated yours harder and you only separated from him because you felt like you couldn’t breathe. He let out a gasping breath of his own and let out several deep breaths into your open mouth.

“I love you, too, honey.” He swallowed hard, pecked your lips and you kissed on another more firmly. Joel’s hand lingered on the side of your face. “I fucking love you.”

CLICK HERE FOR PART 11

@pedropascal111 @axshadows @mybritishstyle @untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @goodvibesonly421 @cosmic006533-blog @ashleyfilm @maybetomorrowgirl @rebeccawinters @cuteanimalmama @writlingerz @vickie5446 @drewharrisonwriter @churchofjoemiller

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moirindeclermont · 2 months ago

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It's part two, and today is all about him. That's right. It's pegging time on "All Polin's First Time We Didn't See". Colin wasn't sure he wanted to do it, but after seeing Pen, he became curious. And no one he trusts to do this more than her—even if they were not married. He did ask around, very discreetly, of course, and apparently, it's a thing some men really like. He knows that Pen has already everything they need, he just need to ask her when he is ready.

He thinks of all the first times Pen gave him without reserve, and he thinks of his first times, and this one feels more personal and vulnerable, maybe because it's with Pen. That afternoon, he takes his courage and asks her to sit in his lap while they are working in their studio. It's a ritual when they have stuff to talk about because it makes them feel safer and connected. When Pen is sitting, he embraces her waist and tells her, even if he is nervous as hell.

"I'm ready, Pen," and she looks at him with a big smile. "Really?" and he nods, suddenly at a loss of words. Pen kisses him, and he relaxes a bit in her embrace. "Are you nervous?" Pen asks, picking up his nerves immediately, and Colin sees no reason to lie to her. She caresses him, "We'll go slow, and we'll stop if anything doesn't feel right," and he wants to crack a joke saying that's his line, but in truth, he is glad she is taking care of him in this mutual discovery.

That night, Pen puts the oil and the tool she will use later on on the dresser. He gulps when he sees the wooden phallus attached, but it is smaller than his own, so there's that. "Make love to me, Colin..." she says, taking his attention away from everything else. That he can do. They start slow, Colin playing with Pen's breasts and making her moan exactly as she likes. He finds her soaked. "You are waiting for this to happen, aren't you?" and a bit of his confidence comes through.

She nods and moans. "You like the idea of fucking me," he says and Pen whines while he plays with her pearl. "If only the people in the Ton knew how much of a wanton my wife is," and he knew he was driving her crazy. "Before fucking me... I'm going to give it to you," and Pen is waiting for him. He sinks in, and it feels like home. He feels her curious fingers on his bum, accustoming him to the idea while he is thrusting in her.

He must compliment his wife's genius because now he has more important things to do and will not worry so much about what her fingers are going to do. It doesn't take long for them to find their release, and when he collapses in her embrace, they both know this is just the start. Once Pen is able to stand, she takes the tool and puts it on herself. Colin assists by tightening the laces, and suddenly, the situation becomes very real.

Pen caresses his face and kisses him, making him lie down again. Then, using all the knowledge of their life together up until this point, she proceeds to torture him in the best way possible. She scratches his nipples and kisses him all over until he is hard again and panting. When she settle in between his legs, he find himself compelled to open them to her, making her smile. She takes the oil and starts again; this time, a hand is on his dick; the other is playing around his bum.

He feels her light pressure, something undescribable, as she slowly starts with a finger while she alternates on his peen with soft touches and tender kisses. She looks at him, "Colin, how does it feel?" and he is suddenly moaning, the feeling not too unpleasant now, the combined sensation really lovely. "Good Pen. Please, another," and his voice is betraying his nerves, but now he really wants to do this.

While she works two fingers in him and then three, he feels a bit of a stretch and then, out of the blue, the most blinding pleasure he has ever experienced in his life. He can't help but buckle his hips as he catches the sensation. "There, Pen! There!" and why he was so nervous in the first place? "More, Pen, more," he moans, and Pen now is lifting his hips, pushing a pillow under his bum, and she looks at him like he is the sun and the moon.

She is beautiful, with those blue laces on her hips, and even the wooden phallus is now blending and not so weird anymore. "You're gorgeous, Pen," he says, and Pen smiles at him while aligning herself. He feels the pressure; even with all the preparation, Pen's fingers are not a wooden object, so it takes a while for her to enter and a lot of oil to aid in her passage. They are both sweating by the end, but he feels his heart open in a new way, and he lets go, letting her set the pace.

She starts slow, her movements unusual. Colin is so in love with this gorgeous woman that their act makes him feel so much that his eyes start crying without him realising. "Am I hurting you?" Pen asks, and Colin answers, "No, please continue. I just realised the amount of trust you put in me for your first times, and I feel... so much." Then he shakes his head. "Please, give it to me," he says, but the dam is broken. Pen starts to push in faster, every time trying to find that angle.

His reaction is immediate when she finds it; from that moment on, it's like they have been doing this all their lives. He takes himself in hand, and it's genuinely blinding. He looks at her, her breasts bouncing with their movement, and the moment after, he is coming with a grunt, moaning loudly. Pen gets out slowly, but still, he hiss a bit. He is going to feel it tomorrow, and he loves it. They are kissing again, and he can feel how wet Pen is. "Use my thigh to make you come," he tells her.

She does just so while he keeps praising her and touching her breasts, teasing her nipples. She comes with a whine, collapsing in his arms. They stare at each other for a while, cuddling and kissing. "Did you like it?" she asks, and he smiles at her. "More than I thought it was possible," he answers and it is the truth. "Thank you, Colin," she says, and he shakes his hand. "Thank you," he says in answer. "You're the only one with whom I could do this."

They clean themselves with a warm towel before falling asleep in each other's arms. The day after, Benedict takes a good look at him and says, "I didn't know you had it in you. " He blushes, while Pen laughs. He thinks it is worth walking funny just for how much his heart is exploding with love, and he says this to Pen, who looks at him, nods, and kisses him. Yeah, definitely worth it.

I accept request! Send me your favourite first time, and I'll write it for you!

#polin #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton s3 #polin positivity #bridgerton spoilers #polin bridgerton #polin fic #polin brainrot #colin my wife bridgerton

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azelmaandeponine · 28 days ago

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I enjoy exploring different kinds of relationships in media and analyzing it, it makes me think and reflect. When I first saw the whole Bill and Ford thing it interested me.

There were definitely interesting takes on it in the fandom at the beginning, but now it’s expanded so much and become so popular I feel like the point has been lost.

Firstly, the widespread romanization of it sets me off. Maybe it was just me (?) but I thought it was understood that even though it was a “ship” and the “point” of it was that it’s toxic… I dunno. I have observed the abuse is either overlooked or romanticized, and both bother me. Because if you really stop to think about it for more than a minute you realize how absolutely awful and horrifying it must have been to endure that situation.

And I am of the perspective that wanting to explore these relationships is not a bad thing. It is complex, it can be interesting. You can learn a lot about the characters and how they think, process the world, view themselves, their relationships with other characters– and sometimes even yourself. But unfortunately a lot of that nuance can get easily lost and thought I don’t doubt there are some very interesting things out there that take the time to do that, in the more widespread fandom it gets oversimplified and lost.

Don’t even get me started on those who think they should reconcile/get back together. Maybe they don’t know how it’s like to be in an abusive relationship, but getting back in contact with a person who was abusive in your life is an awful idea. Even if the person HAS actually genuinely changed (which… yeah I don’t know about you but I cannot see Bill changing in any significant way that would even make this an option) for the sake of the others sanity and ability to move forward in life.

I really like Ford, as someone who is autistic I see myself in him. I know a lot of people don’t like Ford (for some reasons more valid than others). But regardless- on the subject of his past relationship with Bill, the amount of victim blaming is baffling. It’s giving “they were mutually abusive” kind of thing. Like yes, we can point out, even criticize how it probably isn’t a good idea to recite ancient enchantments outloud, or whatever you wanna point out. But I actually don’t care what he did to get himself in that situation. He was vulnerable, tricked, taken advantage of and mistreated (to put it lightly). This guy is in your MIND, in your head- literally! Not only did he psychologically torment him, mess with his literal thoughts and memories, hurt his body. I cannot imagine how badly that can mess you up. Now imagine after all that, after literally killing the guy, he’s like… Sixer come back. Even if he had changed for the better (which he has NOT like i said before) why would you want to associate yourself with someone who hurt you (and others!) so badly. And even if some codependent part of you did want it back, I’d argue that’s even more of a reason to stay away because that can only lead to things getting worse.

I’m not going anywhere else with this anymore, just a rant. Thanks for reading lol

You're welcome.

And I agree. I DO think the abusive nature of their relationship deserves exploration, and it IS canon Ford was abused by Bill. Explore that. Explore Ford's trauma. Explore how he heals from that.

It's when people act like it's a cute romantic ship, or boil it down to "toxic/mutually toxic"...like no. It is straight up horrifically abusive, with Bill as the abuser and Ford as the victim. Reading Journal 3 was unsettling in regards to Bill and Ford's relationship because of the abuse.

Reading TBOB was terrifying because of the abuse and torture. I was legitimately afraid for Ford during...certain parts...of TBOB. And TBOB is, you know, a book.

I can't imagine what it would be like to actually live through an experience like that.

And yet people continue to victim blame Ford, and it makes me want to pull my hair out. The way people victim blame Ford because he summoned Bill despite the vague cave wall warnings is just basically them going "you were warned he was bad news, so it's your fault for dating him in the first place". I think we all agree that's a horrible thing to say to a domestic violence victim. And given that Ford's relationship with Bill has been paralleled in canon to an abusive relationship, the same can be applied here. It's a terrible thing to say about Ford, who was literally abused by Bill. Abuse is never the victim's fault.

And yeah, getting back with your abuser is NEVER a good idea.

And while people CAN change, Bill shows no desire to. That was...pretty obvious in TBOB. He refuses to change, so I really don't see him as redeemable.

Honestly the fandom's victim blaming of Ford is giving me flashbacks to the BMC fandom and NOT in a good way.

#answers #ford pines #stanford pines #grunkle ford #shipcourse #abuse tw #not tagging the ship #bill cipher #multicolorskyz #gravity falls #filthy ford apologist squad #ford defense squad #ford protection squad

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exaflux · 2 months ago

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How good is BTAA Scarecrow at therapy really? (An Analysis) (Part 2)

[Part 1]

Alt title: What the hell is JoyCure anyway?

Now onto the long overdue second part of this analysis series looking at the most ethical psychologist the world has ever laid eyes on. We simply must rate his performance!

I apologeese for the delay on this. Been in my drafts for over a month blegh.

This is a very long analysis compared to the first part, word of warning.

This part contains- more breaking down of psychology approaches some in less detail if covered in the first bit, Harvey almost falling off a skyscraper, and in the conclusion some talks on JoyCure and a talk on how Jon views "trust" (if you're into character analysis)

Disclaimer- I am not a trained psychologist or therapist or anything of the like, I just like psychology as a topic. This writing is purely for fun.

Harvey and Two-face will be referred to seperately in this analysis, but if referring to both Harvey will be used as default. Jonathan is still Jonathan.

Delightfully surprised by all the people who enjoyed the first part by the way! The likes and reblogs are much appreciated~

Session two-

The following all takes place in S2, Episode 7 unless otherwise stated

This session starts out with Harvey and Two-Face talking amongst themselves, focusing on a strange noise they can mutually hear in the background. In his confusion, Harvey asks Jonathan if he's still there, to which he responds: "Yes. I'm right here, Harvey. You can leave your blindfold on until I tell you to remove it, please" (10:37). Immediately responding to the questions of a worried client would help with setting their nerves at ease while minimising the amount of time they'd experience distress, with the added bonus of some trust building. Also Jonathan is so polite here! What a nice man.

That sound that Harvey's hearing, by the way, is explained by Jon as such: "That's Harmony, Two-Face. You've never known a moment of it in your entire tortured existence" (10:55). Reminder that wording matters as it can influence client outlook, especially in a therapy setting. Describing a client's experiences as a "tortured existence" is quite negative and is not an example of a good therapy practice.

A bit further on Jonathan starts advertising his goods explaining why Harvey is hearing weird stuff, claiming "the JoyCure has brought peace at last to your long inner conflict. You simply must trust me. Remember, we talked about trust when you agreed to put that blindfold on for me?" (11:24). This sets the scene as a trust exercise. Not too bad. "You said to cooperate. We cooperated" "Yes, Harvey, cooperation, that's exactly what today's lesson is all about [...] I want you to cooperate with you" (11:36) Never mind. Please do not gaslight your clients then claim you were talking about something completely different when they catch wind of it. 🚩❌ The memory is actually quite suggestible. You can influence a person's memories by both wording used in a question and how you word it. As a psychologist Jon should know this.

Directly following on from Jon's previous statement, Two-Face says he doesn't get what Jon means, so he goes on to clarify "We have oh so many ways we wage war within ourselves every day. You're just an unusually extreme case" (12:01). This is a very interesting thing for Jon to say given his tendency to negatively describe his clients' situation, and at a blush I almost said this was within acceptable therapy practices. Almost. See, here he establishes that everyone suffers from inner conflict, and Harvey's situation is just a step above that. It's notable enough to comment on, being "unusually extreme" but it's still very much kept within the realm of normal behaviour. Imo the language use here ("extreme") doesn't necessarily have a negative connotation but is an observation, but your mileage may vary. This sounds good, right? But then you have to ask- why is Two-Face needing to ask about this to begin with? This session has been set up as a trust exercise already, and these have to be discussed and agreed to beforehand. It's ethically necessary. This tells me that Jonathan has completely neglected to explain the how and whys with Harvey before all this stuff was set up for the session. He broke ethics.

"I am going to take off your blindfold now, and then I'd like you to tell me how irrational you believe your fear of high places to be" (12:42). Always good practice to give clear and easy to follow instructions to clients if you're doing an exercise with them. After Harvey removes the blindfold, finding himself standing outside of a skyscraper window, Jon wants to know his thoughts- "Tell me how do you feel?" (13:18). Again therapy stuff. Therapists ask questions on how their clients feel about certain experiences, and in identifying a feeling clients can then work towards learning why they feel that way.

We find out that Harvey finds himself unbothered by how high up he is, and later that this is due to the drug he took, JoyCure. Immediately after being asked whether he'd like to look at the view alongside Harvey, Jon responds "Thank you, I'll stay here inside where it's safe" (13:40). As if it isn't obvious enough already, standing outside a skyscraper window isn't exactly safe. Therapists, don't ask your clients to do this either. Jon throughout most of this segment doesn't sound too bothered by his own breaching of ethics, in fact he sounds like a kid who just got told they'll be getting $50 worth of Robux after class for peak gaming. Maybe it's because he's still a therapist and considers all this as progress in his client? Who knows. Either way, Jon slowly gets Harvey to do increasingly more and more dangerous things on the ledge outside the window: "In fact, you might even dance a jig on that narrow ledge if I asked you to" (14:30), "[...] you would walk to the end of that flagpole if I asked you to, I bet" (15:07). Again, this is dangerous. At the very least he's just suggesting this. It's not like he's telling Harvey (who's still relying on others to make decisions for him at this point) to walk that flagpole, right? "Yes, I want you to show me you can walk it like a tightrope [...] Walk to the very end" (15:22). Ah.❌ At the very least he's celebratory of his client's achievements, exclaiming "Congratulations Harvey!" (15:56) when that flagpole does get walked like a tightrope. Nice.

"Now this next part is very dangerous. When you're ready, turn around and come back" (16:06)- Once again, wording matters in therapy settings. Stating that the next part of the exercise is dangerous would definitely not help with putting client's worries at ease.

Neither Harvey Two-Face nor Two-Face Two-face can make heads or tails cough cough of what they've been told to do. "What do you mean when we're ready?" "Simply discuss it amongst yourselves. When you mutually decide you want to come in, turn either to your left or alternately turn to your right and come back" (16:15). Jon again making his instructions clear to his client. Two-Face becomes uneased at this response however and wants Jon to tell him what to do, with Jon declining to (16:39). This is still within the realm of normal therapy practices as Jon can't do this exercise for Harvey.

Also, at this point it'd be good to mention that despite me characterising this whole thing as a "trust exercise" up 'til now, that isn't strictly the only thing it is. This whole scene is actually an example of exposure therapy. This form of therapy is performed normally on people to help treat phobias and various anxiety conditions, OCD and PTSD. As the name suggests, this is done through presenting the client with whatever thing is a trigger to them in feeling anxiety and over time through exposure they'll (in theory) feel less anxiety over the trigger. One caveat though- you're still supposed to talk about this with a client beforehand, understand how comfortable they feel with doing the exercise and be completely willing to stop the exercise if the client no longer wants to do it. It's apparent already that Jon hasn't done this. There's multiple types of exposure therapy, this one is called gradual exposure, or systematic desensitisation. With this version of the therapy a client is supposed to make a tier list of what things give them least to most anxiety called an (exposure hierarchy), then they work their way up at their own pace. Jon here seems to be calling the shots though much more than his clients on how much they "face their fears" as it were, especially given Harvey can't make any decisions for himself.

In fact, to make things even worse again, Jon increasingly makes the exercise more anxiety-inducing than it needs to be. He presents Harvey with more and more decisions ("Come on, Harvey. Turn right or turn left. Then once you've turned, do you lead with your left foot or your right?" (16:53)) then plays dumb about knowing that Harvey can't currently make decisions on his own, "Ah, but you're without your coin. I'd forgotten." (17:11). Of course he's BSing about forgetting, especially when you notice how he suggested walking the flagpole earlier ("you would [...] if I asked you to, I bet" (15:07)) which makes one wonder if he was wanting to see to what extent that Harvey would actually do what he was told. Hmm... Either way though, he's being a twat and deliberately causing distress. ❌❌❌

This part is the juiciest bit of the session- Harvey tells Jon that he's afraid, and Jon talks about the drugs, JoyCure, he put Harvey on. Unfortunately, the details on JoyCure will be left for the conclusion as it is too juicy. But, about Harvey being afraid, Jon has this to say- "Your real fear isn't high places. The fear your feeling right now? That's the fear that defines you, Harvey. The fear of having to make a decision [...] No coin. No counsel. Just the two of you." (17:34). To recap everything that has went on so far, Jon tried to make out all this was a trust exercise (and according to Two-Face, he was just told to co-operate) and then it turned out that all this was actually an attempt at gradual exposure. But now we find it actually isn't, because the fear that that therapy would have treated isn't actually a fear anymore due to JoyCure. Instead, Harvey has been dunked directly into his real fear, making a decision, which is closer to a different type of exposure therapy: flooding. Flooding (unlike gradual exposure) is basically the theraputic equivalent to throwing you in the deep end of whatever you're made anxious by. It's a valid therapy technique, but is only used in particular circumstances and again with the consent of the client first. Do we think that Jon got permission from Harvey to do this type of therapy? Probably not.

If it's all too much info to understand, here's a simplified diagram:

At this point the session devolves more and more into being a train-wreck. There's hardly any actual therapy going on.

As a rundown:

Harvey wants off the flagpole. Jon's immediate response is to faux panic about Harvey slipping before mocking him with a fun fact, "Did you know a baby's first instinct is a fear of falling?" (18:02). ❌

Two-Face threatens Jon with a "I'll kill you!" and Jon barks back "You said "I"! That's a breakthrough! One of you is taking charge!(18:10). A breakthrough is another word for a milestone in therapy. But really him calling it a "breakthrough" I don't think should be taken at face value for... Obvious reasons here. ❌❌

And finally, right before the session ends, our world renowned psychologist says "Come on now. You simply need to agree upon a strategy before it's too late" (18:24). Which I mean, he's making light of the situation and how easy it sounds (in theory) for Harvey to have both his halves work together. Definitely not an empathatic approach like you'd want from a therapist.❌❌❌

In conclusion:

Just as with his first second? session with Harvey, Jonathan demonstrates good skills as a therapist, but misuses those skills repeatedly. Again, he ignores ethics and purposefully causes distress to his clients, being even worse about it than the first session somehow. At least in the first session you could argue that he made some attempt to follow standard therapy room procedure up until a point. Here though? Definitely not.

In fact just to overview everything that happens in the session, because it's a bit much to process all at once:

Harvey goes to do this exercise blindfolded, not being told what's happening until he's already outside the window. Jon goes on this whole "trust me" spiel and Two-Face points out they were told to co-operate.

Jon talks about his drug JoyCure and how it's stopped Harvey's conflicted feelings. He then tells Harvey to remove the blindfold and report how he's feeling.

He then suggests/outright tells Harvey to do increasingly dangerous stunts. You could argue this is gradual exposure therapy, but done in the worst way possible.

After he gets Harvey to walk the flagpole, Jon tells Harvey he can come back whenever he's ready. During this he's very vocal and clear on what Harvey should do. Harvey can't make a decision, Jon knows this.

Harvey shits the bed because it turns out the real fear he has is over making a decision for himself. Jon knew this the whole time, and knew that JoyCure wouldn't help with that. Suddenly the method of therapy used has shifted to become flooding therapy.

Jon absolutely refuses to assist Harvey during any of this when it comes to overcoming his fears. The session only ends because Jon's secretary calls him.

So what can we get from this beyond our wonderful analysis subject being absolutely atrocious as a therapist? Well two major things stand out.

Firstly, that Jon knew from the beginning how everything would play out. He knew how JoyCure would affect Harvey and to what extent it would. He knew that "the fear that defines" Harvey was decision making, and he most likely figured this out this from as early on as the first session if one remembers how that went. Everything from beginning to end was elaborately set up in the session to make Harvey face his defining fear head on. This plays out very similarly to the first session- Jon steered everything in the direction he wanted it to go in just to make Harvey acknowledge his fears.

Thing is though, this premise has some... Interesting implications if one looks at what Jon talks about at the start of the session. Now granted I did try saying that Jon was speedrunning therapy last part of this analysis series. That idea still stands imo shitposty as it is. But to add to it though, to focus on how Jon apparently "talked about trust" before the session began. Two-Face responded that they were told to co-operate though rather than trust, and unless it's a situation where Harvey Two-Face misinterpreted something that was said, chances are he was just told to go along with it not that he has a choice. Trust was also mentioned first session too, where Jon explains that establishing a bond of trust would be the best way for him to help Harvey, and that translates to him removing Harvey's coin. Hell, Jon even tells Harvey "I think we're gonna make excellent progress if you just put your trust in me" as early as their first meeting (S2, E4, 33:04).

So what might this all mean? Just going off of the two sessions observed so far, Jon's method of doing therapy is to seek out what main fear makes a person tick, then try and get the person to acknowledge and/or face it head on whether they'd like to or not. His idea of "trust" is just having a person be unable to (or at the very least, not likely to) resist. As for his intentions about all this... That's honestly up for discussion. But! I'm hard pressed saying that none of it is him actually wanting people to overcome their fears. Not downplaying how terrible he is mind, but it'd be perplexing that a psychologist who would be only focused on traumatising clients (who can also uncover what a client is frightened by so rapidly too!) would still choose to try and get the client to recognise that fear in themselves rather than just, ya know, not telling the client their deepest fears and scaring the heebie jeebies out of them. He even goes as far as to set up a session on a skyscraper to make an elaborate point about Harvey's defining fear. He tells Harvey beforehand what he needs to do in the session, and it isn't just doing everything he says: "I want you to cooperate with you". If Jon talks about "trusting him" it's bad news. He asks whether Skids trusts him during the infamous Stabberscotch scene too, again a moment where the person he's asking to trust him is forced to co-operate (S2, E4, 5:06), reinstating the point. That said, given Jon's belief that "fear sets limits on courage" (S2, E4, 4:15), I don't reckon that him wanting to see people overcome fear is out of any streak of benevolence as much as him just wanting to see how far that person's fear goes. The possibility they might be able to overcome the fear might be the real enticing thing for him.

Second major thing that stands out, that this JoyCure thing he put Harvey on. It stops Harvey from feeling his fear of heights but not his fear of making decisions. As for why, I wager it's because JoyCure is a drug that causes feelings of euphoria and dulls basic fear caused by instinct, but it doesn't help at all with fears you actively think about.

If you're really confused right now by what I mean I don't blame you, but it'll make sense.

At the beginning of the session, Jon uses the co-operation talk to segway into rambling about conflict. According to him, everyone feels conflict, and Harvey is just a step up from that. Conflict is caused by fear, and "When what we know is false coincides with what we fear is true, that’s a conflict and there are casualties." (12:13). Harvey is on the drug, and he seems hunky-dory, not arguing with himself, but then again he doesn't have to: Jon is giving him instructions rather than making him do anything on his own. His fear of heights seemingly vanished, he doesn't feel even slightly nervous being asked to dance or walk a flagpole so high up. But, again, he's being told to do this. In fact, remember I mentioned earlier that Jon gave a fun fact, "Did you know a baby's first instinct is a fear of falling"? That's the thing, Jon is saying here (whether intentionally or not) that a fear of heights is hardwired into us from birth. Harvey's fear of it isn't unusual at all, but JoyCure prevents him from feeling that instinct anyway. And to elaborate further, "When what we know is false coincides with what we fear is true, that’s a conflict", but Harvey is scared of heights, scared he might fall off because the height will harm him, and he's on a skyscraper so it's true. There is no inner conflict in knowing his feelings are unfounded, because they are.

So overall, if I'm right with this idea anyway self-preservation while on JoyCure goes functionally out the window. You'd normally get nervous putting your hand near a hot stove tops for example, knowing you'd get burnt, but if you took JoyCure you wouldn't feel any nerves at all about it. To again quote Jon, "Fear is a furnace which must be fed. What I have done is empty your mental coal tinder" (14:22) talking about how the drug works, that whatever "tinder" is there (in this case instinctive fear) is emptied. So, I suppose, consciously fearing is the equivalent of adding tinder again? I mean, Harvey starts feeling fear because he consciously has to make a decision, he has to think about it actively and worry actively, rather than just have the fear be reflexive like it would be dealing with something dangerous. I imagine because of this the drug also wouldn't work as a treatment for anxiety disorders. Very Sadge 💔

FINAL SCORE FOR THE SESSION:

🎊 1/10 🎊

How the hell Jon got worse than first session I have no idea but here we are. The extent of his therapy here is using psychological theory to prove a point to his clients that they're terrified of making decisions on their own. Elaborate and impressive! He probably spent more time planning how this session was gonna go than actually doing what's expected of him as a therapist.

This man does not care about ethics, client's feelings or whether his sessions might kill a man.

In fact he knows his sessions might kill someone. He plans them out after all:

"When what we know is false coincides with what we fear is true, that’s a conflict and there are casualties"

#Batman #Batman the Audio Adventures #BTAA #BTAA Scarecrow #Scarecrow #Jonathan Crane #text post #analysis #Character analysis #How good is Scarecrow at therapy really?

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moeitsu · 7 months ago

Text

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Summary: Kate is not immune to the dangers of the land. No matter how much she loved it, the land will never love her back.

Ao3 Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10

Trigger Warning: Graphic depictions of violence and disturbing imagery. If you do not like depictions of war and torture please proceed with caution. I did heavy research for this chapter, but please know it is entirely FICTIONAL. The characters are not real, but the events are based on real American history. Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Ch 7 - The Sun Can Never Dip So Low

1890

I knew I was going to die.

If the arrow in my side does not take me, then the man who rides the horse I lay across surely will.

I felt no pain. Perhaps it was the fever of the fight. But it didn’t hurt. I thought of screaming and thrashing, but I thought better of it. As my father would say, ‘The one good thing about problems, is they’ll still be problems later. Don’t need to deal with them right away.’

Either way, I was still going to die.

If only my father had taught me how to survive the frontier. I know now that you must learn to recognize those who won’t survive, and be wary of their doomed decisions. They are to be avoided at all costs. Because their fear is tragedy’s closest cousin. And tragedy is contagious in this place.

My mind was snuffed by a white blanket of fear, but somehow I prayed, and prayed, and prayed. But God had already abandoned me, perhaps he never loved me at all. My life had been an endless cycle of taking, why would it stop taking now.

I had no idea where the man was taking me. I did not speak his language. I had heard stories about the wars between the Indians and Englishman. But I did not have a way to tell them I’m not a part of it, but I knew somehow if I could it would not matter. War will turn men into predators, and women into prey.

Only days ago I felt like I was drowning under a waterfall, but now I see this is the real river of death.

The adrenaline had begun to leak out of my body along with the blood from the arrow. I watched in a blurred haze as the droplets disappeared into the ground as the horse took us swiftly through the dark forests. The pain began creeping in along with the darkness as I blacked out.

When I woke I found myself laying on the dirt of a fort, the sound of Englishmen talking with the Indians brought me out of my haze. I thought I had been saved, I wanted to yell and scream for help. But the conversation did not sound pleasant, I could barely make out the figure of a man who must be a general and another who must have been the chief. To my surprise, I saw a young Indian woman standing behind the general, her wrists bound. She looked my age, but deathly beaten and ill. My throat closed in.

The chief's voice rose in anger and I watched him point at me, then at the woman. After a moment the general waved his hands, and the girl was unbound and brought to the chief, he swiftly lifted and cradled her. I knew then it was his daughter. At the same time one of the general's men came walking in my direction and I realized I wasn’t being rescued, but traded. One woman for another, and eye for an eye.

I thought death was better than being a prisoner, as my mind raced with panic. I almost begged the Indians to turn back and kill me.

There must be a heaven, because that night I knew I had entered the gates of hell. Crawling on my hands and knees into the belly of the beast as he took me in his bed. Night after endless night.

My days had turned into nights, and I no longer saw the point in living. Like my eyes had become devoid of color, and the world turned black and gray. Instead of praying to be rescued, I prayed my injury would kill me.

There were other prisoners in the fort, mostly Lakota men. I bore no hatred for their people, but entirely my own. Their greed so suffocating they took the daughter of the chief, an innocent girl who had no part in their war. And turned her into a shell of herself. All in the name of greed. It was always greed.

I thought my life couldn’t have any more surprises for me, that it must end here. But my life was about to change yet again.

I noticed one of the other prisoners began watching me, then leaving behind extra food and water for me. After a few days, he approached me.

“What is your name?” he asked, his accent thick. Like my language did not fit right in his mouth. Unlike his own.

“Kate,” I answered. Surprised to hear my own voice after days of torture, “what’s yours?”

“Egwani,” he said, “or in your language little river. That wound in your belly is going to get infected.” River nodded at the small purple wound on my stomach . The general's men had cauterized it, but my body had been rising with a fever for the past two days.

“It’s already infected.” And I hoped it would kill me quickly.

River shook his head, “I can help you.”

“Why would you help me?” Not that there was any hope for me anyways. Even if he stopped the infection, I was still stuck in this hell.

“That woman the white man traded you for, she is my wife.”

A chill ran down my spine. I did not want to think about what they did to her infront of him.

“You gave your life to save hers. So I will save yours.” He said sincerely. Not that I had a choice in the matter, but still. If one woman came out of this alive, then I guess my death would have some meaning to it.

“Even if you stop the infection, these men will kill me. There’s nothing you can do, I’m going to die here.” My voice betrays my thoughts. Desperation creeping its way into the cracks. Inside I wanted the pain to end, I wanted my suffering to cease. But I was still terrified, beneath it all I longed to return home. Pretend none of it happened. Return to my old life with my family. But that version of me no longer exists.

River chuckled softly.

“Is something funny?” The last thing I needed was to be shown kindness and then mocked. Like the general’s men had not degraded me enough.

“You are stubborn like the Amicalola,” he smiled. Why was he smiling? Had he not suffered just as much as I had? He must have seen his wife beaten nearly within an inch of her life, and he could do nothing, yet he was smiling at me now.

The pain in my body made my words come out bitter and sharp, “I don’t know what that means.”

“My people’s word for waterfall. You are strong like one too. It is a good name.”

I scoffed, how incredibly wrong he was.

“I’m not,” I stated with a groan. My head throbbed from the fever and my body was cold from the chills as the infection raged through my insides.

“I can give you medicine. And when my people return in a few weeks, I will escape and take you with me.” He explained.

“I think I’d rather you just kill me now,” I said, closing my eyes. The world around me was spinning in a dark haze, gravity pulling my body down with my thoughts.

“You could have killed yourself days ago,” River began, “you could have taken a rope to your throat, or a knife to your heart. But you did not,” I opened my eyes again and looked at him, “that is how I know you are strong. Your will to live is burning through you right now with a fever.”

My eyes filled with tears, and my throat suddenly felt thick. For the first time in what felt like forever, my heart began to fill with hope. River closed the gap between us and placed a gentle palm on my forehead, feeling the heat of my skin.

“I have watched you turn towards the pain as it tears into you. I have seen the way you survive, these men think they have taken everything from you. But you have not let them devour your soul.”

“I could do nothing to stop them,” I croaked. Hot tears spilling down my cheeks like water through a dry creek bed.

“Sometimes, there is strength in surrendering. But you have surrendered nothing to the pain. I see your tears, but you do not weep,” he brushed a thumb over my wet face, “you are a warrior.”

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

True to his word, River’s men showed up exactly two weeks later. But before that, he had given me a salve mixed from honey and sage and rubbed it over my arrow wound, as well as the numerous others I had accumulated in my time here. He also gave me an herbal tea for the infection, and by some miracle it was working. Each day I felt my strength returning to me.

River took beatings for me, when I could not walk or do chores. Or simply when the men felt like taking their frustrations out on another human being. And I felt incredibly guilty for it. But he always assured me that I needed to save my strength for the real fight, when his people came. Yet nothing could have prepared me for what was about to unfold.

They came under the cover of night, and used the forest and mountains to their advantage. They brought the fire, as the fort was made entirely out of wood and before long it became a fiery prison from hell. I knew our escape would not be easy, even with the help of Rivers' men. I had my strength back, but no knowledge of how to actually fight. I was lucky enough to escape with just a burn on my calf.

It had been a bloody massacre, and the men fought savagely. The Lakota people came with arrows and tomahawks and spears, and I watched as they made the men of the fort suffer. It brought a sickening joy to my heart, to see the men who had raped me have their skulls crushed and insides ripped apart. It felt like justice.

We lost people on our side, too many. None of the other prisoners had made it out alive. And I grieved for the other girls of the camp who did not make it like I had, it felt unfair. But we managed to escape. After hours of blazing rage, River swiftly lifted me onto the back of a horse, and together we rode far away from the fort. Only a few of his people escaped alongside us, as we left behind their final resting place. The numbing shock of war is behind me now, and hope has taken its place.

His men had informed us that his tribe had moved to the bottom of the Tennessee river, to escape the constant attacks and find refuge further west. So that is where our journey took us. As if life had still granted me the irony of continuing west, despite all the horrors I had faced to get there.

It took us nearly three months. We traveled through the Appalachian trails and the journey was not easy. We lived rough, and we lived hard. I felt like a burden most days, as I knew I was slowing down their journey. I was still not entirely healed, and some days I felt I did not have the strength to travel at all. But River was patient, and never made me feel like it was my fault.

He taught me how to hunt, how to fish, and how to set traps and skin animals. He even taught me some of his language, but most importantly he taught me how to survive.

“When we kill an animal we must use all parts of it, to honor it. These creatures are innocent, and when we kill an innocent we become a little less of a man, and a little more of an animal.” He told me as he demonstrated how to properly skin a rabbit.

Death is something we share with all creatures; rabbits, birds, horses and trees. It's everywhere, and eventually it will take everyone. Just as it had taken everyone who had loved me. Even as the stars die, we cannot run from it.

Despite his people running from war, they could not escape death either. We arrived at River’s tribal camp, along the bank of the Tennessee river, and it had been reduced to ash. We were too late, or perhaps we were lucky, this could have been our fate too. River, and the men who came to rescue us, were the last of his people. I saw something dark enter him that day, as he held the charred bones of his wife and child. The woman whom I gave my life for, all for nought. As I stood there, living and breathing, and she did not. Their entire family history, wiped clean from the earth.

His rage became the oil to my flame, I felt his anger mix with my own deep in my soul. All this death we had endured. Intertwined our fates like loops on a chain that bound us like shackles. But it was our grief that kept us on a tight leash. River sought revenge and justice, while I yearned to take from the world what it had taken from me. Together, we would instill fear into the heart of every man who crossed the land.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate McCanon died the day I met River. What stood before him now was the Amicalola, the waterfall. I became a woman unrecognizable.

Like many rivers, their journeys start with quiet beginnings, but as they are nourished by the waters of experience, they gather strength, flowing swiftly and deeply towards their desired path. If you follow their course and witness where they converge — they become a creature of beauty as well as fury. I became the waterfall: untamed and unbridled, sweeping away all in my path with wild abandon.

River made me into a warrior, and with each life I took, the world felt my turmoil. Anger guided my blade, for the world had stolen my family—my husband, and my daughter. It robbed me of myself, leaving me with nothing to lose.

“Our purpose is to ensure our enemies' fear is greater than their greed,” he told me. We hunted poachers, bandits, and thieves. But his rage was never satisfied.

He taught me how to kill, how to torture. How to fight with weapons capable of horrific fatalities. And I welcomed it with open arms. We fought and killed together for several years before I would begin to lose myself to the bloodshed.

We were hunting a group of poachers, when we came upon what we believed to be their camp. River was the first to drag a man from his tent, a knife already in his side. He would ask questions, and then kill him slowly. His fate sealed the moment we found their tracks. The man claimed to know nothing, but we were not convinced. And it wouldn't matter anyways, we would kill everyone in the camp. Just for the sake of it.

“What you take from the land will be taken from you. Know that I am the land, and the land is killing you.” River spoke in his native tongue as he slit the man's throat. Sickeningly slow. He would choke to death in his own blood.

A sound came from the man's tent and a figure emerged, I drew my bow, ready to release it as they stepped out. The moment a child appeared, I wished then that I had the strength to kill myself back at the fort. I had turned into a monster.

My heart was in my stomach as a little girl cried for her father. What have I done? I had almost killed a child. And we just killed her father, I realized we had been at the wrong camp. And I had just doomed a mother to be a widow, and a childhood to be ruined. I might as well have handed my fate over to them.

River stood before me, his face shadowed and his eyes vacant. The man who once filled my heart with hope now dwelled in darkness himself. At that moment, I knew I had to leave. I could no longer fight alongside him; our path led to a place from which I could not return. Like Persephone, Queen of the Underworld, yet born under the light of Spring, I too would journey down the river Styx.

He did not resist my departure. River assured me I would always be welcomed among his people, and if I desired, he would take me as his wife. For years, River had been my strength, and I his, but now I was leaving him—to salvage what little I had left of myself.

After calming the child, I made a solemn vow to reunite her with her mother. This marked the beginning of my journey to break the cycle, and seek redemption for what I had done. It would also mark the end of my journey as a warrior. As we parted ways, he whispered a message into the wind. I could not tell if it was a goodbye, or a promise, or a warning. In his tongue he told me “follow the rivers, and they will take you to the waterfall.”

~~~

AN: I seriously appreciate all the love you guys are showing for this story. It motivates me to write more, and I'm truly having so much fun with it. Thank you! <3

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 4 months ago

Text

Galileo Galilei Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

CW: This chapter mentions torture and death. Spoliers ahead. Not proofread.

I was enveloped again in a white light and transported to Galileo's past.

Galileo: "Sagredo, you're here."

The next place I arrived at seemed to be a university.

I heard his voice coming from a room, so I peeked inside and saw a man visiting him.

Sagredo: "If Professor Galileo himself calls me, there's no way I wouldn't come."

Sagredo: "After all, I'm your biggest fan."

Galileo: "Hmph. You're still the same, Sagredo."

(Sagredo?)

(The same name as the character from the book I borrowed from him.)

Galileo handed Sagredo a large sheet of paper spread out on his desk.

Sagredo: "Galileo, what's this?"

Galileo: "Do you remember our discussions about transcending physical laws to travel to the past or future?"

Galileo: "This is the blueprint for a door that transcends space-time."

(-----!)

Sagredo: "You were really researching this!?"

Just like me, Sagredo looked at him in astonishment.

Sagredo: "Hahaha! I thought it was just drunken talk, but you actually did it."

Sagredo: "Galileo Galilei is truly a genius!"

His reaction was one of open admiration, and though Galileo allowed a small smile to form at the corners of his lips, he quickly suppressed it.

Galileo: "However, this is as far as the research goes. I have no intention of actually building this door."

Sagredo: "Why is that?"

Galileo: "I designed it out of curiosity, but if this door were completed and able to interfere with history as theorized, the past might change, and the present and even the future we live in might disappear."

Sagredo: "That's true."

Galileo: "As a scholar, it's a bit of a pity, but I plan to dispose of this blueprint and other unnecessary research papers. Still, before that, I wanted to show it to you alone."

Sagredo: "Galileo. Thank you; it's a great honor."

Sagredo: "I agree with your decision. I'm satisfied just to have witnessed your achievements."

From Sagredo's smile and tone, it was clear that he was genuinely proud of Galileo.

(They're really friends.)

There was a pure sense of curiosity and mutual respect between them.

(He said he would dispose of the blueprint, yet for some reason, it wasn't disposed of.)

That must be why the door in the mansion was created by Vlad and Comte.

The blueprint was never disposed of and eventually caught Vlad's attention.

Vlad and Comte used it to complete the door and begin resurrecting historical figures.

(It was through this door that I came to 19th-century Paris.)

The single blueprint created by Galileo had come full circle, guiding me and allowing me to meet him.

And now, I had encountered the "beginning" of this mysterious chain of coincidences.

(Can these coincidences be called fate?)

Sagredo: "But since you called me so suddenly, I thought it might be about that matter."

(That matter?)

Hearing their conversation, I turned my attention back to them again.

Galileo's brow furrowed slightly, and the previously warm atmosphere turned cold.

Galileo: "Since I published my research and advocated for heliocentrism, more and more people have started calling me a heretic and causing an uproar."

Galileo: "Sagredo, do you also think I'm wrong?"

Sagredo: "No, I don't think that at all. You're not wrong."

Sagredo: "Your reports on the starry messenger and the sunspot theory were excellent."

Galileo: "Then why...?"

Sagredo: "But I think it was too early."

Sagredo: "Most people still believe that heliocentrism undermines the teachings of the Church."

Galileo: "I only documented my observations and the results of my research, which I proved with my own eyes. I didn't state anything false."

Galileo: "So why does the world cling to old knowledge and refuse to face the truth?"

I could see his clenched fist from where I stood.

Sagredo remained silent for a moment before speaking.

Sagredo: "I understand how you feel. However, if you continue this way, your position will be in jeopardy."

Sagredo: "You must stop advocating for heliocentrism, Galileo."

Galileo: "Are you telling me to turn away from the truth?"

Sagredo: "No. I'm just saying that it's still too soon."

Galileo: "Then, when's the right time?"

Galileo’s voice was tinged with unbearable frustration.

Galileo: “I’ve conducted research to contribute to the world.”

Galileo: “But as long as we remain bound by doctrines and old teachings, we can never get closer to the truth. There’ll be no progress in the future.”

Galileo: “Turning away from the truth is the same as trampling on one’s convictions.”

Sagredo: “Galileo.”

A tense silence passed between them until Galileo let out a sigh.

Galileo: “I’m sorry, Sagredo. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

Sagredo: “No. You’re indeed a man worthy of pursuing the truth.”

Sagredo: “That’s what makes you Galileo Galilei.”

Sagredo placed a hand on Galileo’s shoulder.

(Galileo.)

(You’re not wrong. I believe that, too.)

It was just that the era didn’t accept the truth he had discovered.

(No matter who denies it, the truth is with you.)

(There were also people who supported you.)

As I felt a tightness in my chest from touching a part of his suffering, my vision turned white again.

When I opened my eyes, I was standing in a corner of a hall.

(Where’s this? It looks like a courthouse.)

At the far end, three elderly men in white robes sat, with the one in the center exuding a particularly stern atmosphere.

The place where I stood was crowded with many people, as if it were a spectator’s gallery.

(The people sitting there seem more like priests than judges.)

(What's about to happen?)

The people around me buzzed, and for some reason, their noise increased my anxiety.

At that moment,

Priest: "Your Excellency, we've brought him. Hey, bring him in!"

Galileo: "Guh."

(Galileo!?)

The person they brought in was Galileo. He had his hands bound with rope.

They roughly pulled him and made him stand in the center of the hall, looking every bit like a defendant.

(Wait, don't tell me this is...!)

Priest: "Silence. We will now begin the inquisition of Galileo Galilei."

The priest, announcing the start of the inquisition, looked down at Galileo.

Priest: “Galilei, despite being forbidden by the Church, you advocated heliocentrism in the book The Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief World Systems. Is this correct?”

Galileo: “That’s correct.”

He answered without hesitation, looking straight at the priest.

(Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief World Systems?)

(Is that the book I borrowed from him?)

The book, in which three characters engage in conversations about astronomy and advocate facing the truth with open eyes.

The one whose title I didn’t know.

(Galileo wrote it himself.)

Priest: "We've also seized all your research papers. Your statements contradict the doctrine."

Priest: "In other words, you have willingly defied the will of God."

Galileo: "That's not true. As a scholar, I simply pursued the truth without any intention of going against God."

Priest: "The truth is written in doctrine."

Galileo: "That is a misguided truth. Under God's name, we should correct our mistakes now."

Galileo: "Observational evidence clearly shows that the Earth, not the Sun, moves."

Priest: "Silence! You're a heretic who defies God's teachings!"

Galileo: "Why!? How is seeking the truth considered heresy!?"

Despite the one-sided condemnation from the priest, Galileo did not back down, standing firm in his unyielding conviction.

However, the priest let out a sinister laugh.

Priest: "If you have no intention of retracting the heliocentric theory, we have our own methods."

He raised his hand toward the priests standing nearby, and they brought in a man.

Galileo: "Sagredo!?"

His clothes were torn to shreds, and his body was covered in wounds. It was unclear if he was even conscious, as he hung limply.

(This is horrible.)

Galileo: "Did you torture Sagredo!? Why!?"

Priest: "That man defended you. Anyone who defends a heretic is also a heretic!"

The priest's signal prompted the other priests to whip Sagredo.

Sagredo: "Aghhh!!"

The sharp sound of the whip cutting through the air echoed, and Sagredo groaned in pain.

(This is too brutal.)

Galileo dropped to his knees, seeing his friend being whipped repeatedly.

Galileo: "Stop it, please stop!!"

Galileo: "I retract it. I retract my statement about the heliocentric theory!"

Galileo: "Please, I beg you, release Sagredo!!"

Sagredo: "No!!"

It was Sagredo himself who stopped him from trying to save his friend.

Sagredo: "There's no need to retract. Galileo, you must continue down the path you believe in."

Galileo: "Sagredo."

Sagredo: "You're not wrong. I'm proud of you for pursuing the truth."

Sagredo: "You’re my dear friend, Galileo Galilei!"

Galileo: "..........."

They looked at each other, exchanging emotions beyond words.

Priest: "Let me ask again, Galileo Galilei."

Galileo: "Sagredo, I..."

Priest: "Will you retract the heliocentric theory, or not?"

Galileo: "I..."

Galileo lifted his face defiantly, his amethyst eyes shimmering with star-like determination.

Galileo: "I will not retract, and I will continue to proclaim the truth! You can label me a heretic and say anything you want, but that doesn't change the fact that the earth moves!"

His shout echoed through the silent hall.

The priest, faced with his piercing gaze, smirked.

Priest: "Very well. Take this Sagredo to the execution grounds."

(What!?)

Galileo: "Wait, to the execution grounds!? What do you intend to do with Sagredo!?"

Priest: "That man will burn in the fires of hell. You've defied God even at the cost of your friend."

Priest: "Such heinous acts mark you as a heretic, you heartless monster!"

As the priest condemned him harshly, voices from the audience began to join in.

Audience 1: "You're just spewing lies, you criminal!"

(Stop.)

Audience 2: "You're a devil for sacrificing your friend for your own sake!"

(No, Galileo is...)

Audience 3: "You are a heretic who defies God!"

(He only sought the truth.)

Thus, for 350 years, an indelible mark was branded on him.

Priest: "Galileo, we'll take you to the execution grounds as well. You need to witness the end of your sins."

Galileo: "Nonsense! There's no justification for execution! Sagredo, run!"

He began to rise, preparing to flee.

However, he was restrained by the priests, and he fell to the ground.

Galileo: "Guh. Sagredo!"

Sagredo: "Galileo, meeting you has been the greatest fortune of my life."

Sagredo: "Let's share a drink again someday!"

The last thing he showed was a smile as bright as the stars.

Galileo: "Stop it, stop it! Ah, no. Nooooooo!!"

Sagredo, crucified at the execution grounds, was engulfed in merciless flames.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

#ikevamp translations #ikevamp jp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp galileo #cybird

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daeneryske · 1 year ago

Text

“Hey, you don’t happen to have any cigarettes, do you?" Eddie asked. "Could really use one right about now.”

“Uh, my . . . my nightstand . . . “ Steve snapped his fingers and pointed to the small table, but Eddie hesitated.

“Don’t wanna snoop.”

“It’s fine.”

Eddie gave him a kind of Are you sure? look before slowly opening the drawer, as if giving Steve plenty of time to change his mind. Sure enough, there was a pack of Barclay cigarettes inside. But instead, Eddie slowly pulled out a long strip of condoms. Dimples slipped into his cheeks as he smiled.

“The king of Hawkins High lives.” A tattoo Steve hadn’t noticed was visible on the back of Eddie’s forearm.

“What? You read Lord of the Flies in high school, and I had sex. So what?”

“Lord of the Rings,” corrected Eddie with a laugh. “And why are you assuming those two things are mutually exclusive? Maybe they are for you. But not for me.”

Steve held up his palms in mock defeat, a smile spreading on his face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. Get your smokes.”

Eddie singled one out of the pack. “Why do I get the feeling these are your post-coitus cigarettes?” he asked, taking a lighter out of the nightstand.

Steve snorted. “Who says coitus?”

“People who failed Latin and want to sound smart.” Eddie took the first drag from his cigarette.

“Why did you take Latin?” Steve had taken as few electives as possible, and Latin would have been a special form of torture.

“I thought it would help my D&D campaigns.”

“Nerd.”

Eddie patted the nightstand. “Slut.”

Steve wasn’t sure what was happening, he just knew he thoroughly enjoyed talking to Eddie. He was starting to understand why Dustin liked him so much.

“Truce?” Steve held out his hand.

Eddie watched him for a moment with that very Eddie-specific stare. Then he put his cigarette between his lips and shook his hand. “Truce.”

Word count: 244k Rating: E Chapters: 36/36

Summary:

After saving Eddie from the Upside Down, Steve hides him at his house while the party concocts a plot to clear Eddie’s name. What Steve doesn’t expect is how much he likes hanging out with Eddie as they get to know each other.

Under the looming shadow of the Mind Flayer threatening to destroy Hawkins, Steve and Eddie realize they’re each grappling with their own darkness, from Steve’s father’s impossible expectations to Eddie’s feelings of worthlessness.

Their friendship develops into something more even as the party prepares to fight Vecna and his monsters one last time. Steve must decide if he’s ready to shrug off the rigid roles assigned to him and become his own person. Eddie must learn to embrace what Steve has been trying to show him every day since nearly dying: that he’s worth saving.

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve and eddie

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lavendertales · 2 years ago

Note

Hello my love! I was wondering if you could write something angsty about Din Djarin. He and the reader are in this “will they or won’t they” type of situation, anytime they get a little too close or too deep in something emotional Din just pushes the reader away cause he can’t expresses his feelings well? It could end in fluff or angst its up to you! Thanks babes

not sure if it comes across as angsty but I do hope you like this fluffy piece, love❤️

tales of the heart—Din Djarin x gn!reader

word count: 833

Joining Din on his missions carried no expectations from either side. You simply provided him with medical assistance when needed and tended to the ship while he was gone and nothing else.

But several situations arose where you truly believed something might happen between you and Din.

You’ve grown close over the course of several months; that much was to be expected. And he had grown very fond and protective of you, but spending so much time with him began to stir a craving deep within you, one you hadn’t really anticipated.

Each touch of his, while innocent, set your skin on fire; each moment spend in proximity to him, pure torture. Even his voice, velvet-like and tender yet raspy, caused your heart to tremble and your body to almost spasm out of control. But you realized that such interactions might be the most you’ll ever get out of your relationship with Din, so you settled with those. Always around you, yet never enough.

One evening, after you made soup for the two of you, a big thunderstorm began. You weren’t a fan of those, and the loud thunders only made you nervous. But Din took notice and instantly wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. He didn’t ask you anything, but simply held you. You knew in that moment you were in love with him. But how could you ever let him know that? He was a Mandalorian, a sworn soldier that didn’t care for silly matters of the heart.

But then he brought you even closer to him and removed his chest plate so you’ll have a more comfortable place to rest. Bewildered, you searched for his eyes underneath the helmet, beyond touched.

“Din…”

You weren’t even sure where you were going with that. All you knew is that you needed him to know how you felt, even if it wasn’t mutual. Gods, you were so close to him that if the helmet wouldn’t have been in the way, you would’ve probably felt his warm breath on your lips. The realization made you delirious.

“Din, I—“

“We should… get some sleep. It’s getting late.”

The way he immediately backed away stung and ached, but it wasn’t within reason. He was probably unaccustomed to having people so close to him until you came along. And now even you were under a question mark.

Instances of the same sort kept happening; holding you too close to him seemed to be triggering Din’s fight or flight, in which he chose the latter. He fled from your touch with every chance he got, and the sting you felt turned into a full on bleeding wound. You feared you may have overstepped some boundaries and thus made Din uncomfortable. That must be why he was pushing you away.

You had to settle this before he’d grow sick of you and throw you off the ship.

“Din? Can I ask you something?”

He didn’t answer verbally, but rather with a simple nod of the head. With a knot in your throat, you went on.

“Why are you avoiding me?” you asked, voice already shaky. “It seems you go out of your way to avoid any physical contact with me, even eye contact. You don’t even look at me. Have I done something wrong? Said something?”

Din shook his head almost violently so. “No, no you didn’t.”

“Then what is it? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect anything… personal. I just… I like being with you.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I feel safe with you, and… I like you. I’m… fond of you.”

Underneath the helmet, Din blinked several times, his lungs nearly running out of air.

“I don’t understand,” he confessed.

“What?”

“How you can be… fond of me. You don’t even see me.”

“I don’t need to see you.”

He’s never heard such sweet words from anyone, let alone from someone as wonderful as you.

“It wasn’t something you did. Or said,” he confessed. “It’s me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not skilled with words. They often fail me, especially since I’ve met you. You’re… very kind and lovely, and… I’m afraid I might be… too fond of you.”

Eyes wide in disbelief, you stared at him for what felt like an eternity.

“I am sworn to the Creed,” he continued. “I only know of loyalty and weapons, making my way through the galaxy. It’s been lonesome, I must admit. But… with you, it is less so. If you’ll have me… I would pledge my loyalty to you until our time in this galaxy runs out.”

Mouth ajar, you kept staring at him in great shock. You didn’t know what else to do.

“Words fail you?” you managed to ask. “What—that’s your idea of not being good? What would it sound like if you think you’d be good?”

Din chuckled, visibly more at ease. “I meant it.”

“So did I. Then… you don’t have to avoid me anymore.”

“Definitely not.”

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sushisocks · 1 year ago

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Okay, another Sean and Lenny meta post, this time also featuring some stuff about Javier. I wanna talk about why I think Sean and Lenny would side with Arthur at the end of RDR2, and bring forth all my reasoning as to why I will die on this hill.

Rant under the read more to spare my mutuals. (Fair warning this is a LONG one babes, there is so much meta)

So, to start, I don't actually think the story of RDR2 would look the same, if at all, were Sean and Lenny not to die their scripted deaths. Even in a version of things where they survive and they go to the same camps, the unfolding of events would by necessity be different due to the impact their personalities and frames of thinking would have on the people around them. However, let's for arguments sake say that in this hypothetical, things are mostly the same, and we're down to that last scene in Beaver Hollow, the last showdown, with Dutch and Micah on one side, and Arthur and John on the other. We know where Javier and Bill go, but where would Sean and Lenny gravitate?

I've already made my stance on the matter clear, so let's really get into why I think Lenny and Sean would choose Arthur's side over Dutch's.

First off, I think it's important to remember that it isn't JUST Dutch vs Arthur, in this scene. In its essential form, it is Dutch & Micah vs Arthur & John. Arthur points at Micah as the rat, and Dutch believes Micah over Arthur. John arrives and accuses Dutch for leaving him to bleed out and die, and Arthur believes John -- not that Dutch denies it.

The point here is, though, that it's not JUST Dutch or Arthur, they're choosing. It is also the people who side with those individuals, whom we must take into account.

Sean and Lenny are canonically Micah-haters, if you will. There are several instances throughout the game, while the two are alive, where they loudly proclaim their dislike of Micah. Sean calling him an 'oily turd' and getting offended at being compared to him, is a near and dear line from the game, for me. And I doubt I have to explain why Lenny isn't besties with the most outwardly racist member of the gang.

"Oh, but Teki!" I hear you say. "Javier is also shown to dislike Micah, and yet he sides with Dutch in the end!" And, see, now you have activated my trap card, so let's really take a look at Javier, before going any further.

Javier is among the most loyal members of the gang -- Arthur literally says this as a camp interaction with him, long before chapter 5 or 6. The fact that Arthur is the one saying it, should tell us something -- this is coming from the man whose loyalty is such a strong character trait it turns into a flaw, and ultimately leads to his demise. And if you think about it, Javier being exceedingly loyal - to the gang, to Dutch - should not be surprising!

When Dutch met Javier, Javier didn't even know English. Javier was starving, on the run, with no safety or know-how, in a country he didn't know nor understand. Javier's story with the gang literally STARTS with Dutch saving him. He is brought into the gang, and in the four years he's there, he is taught English and also shown more respect and compassion than many other places in the US at the time. There are many examples of how Javier is treated as a Mexican in the US, throughout the game, and he, like the other POC in the gang, is allowed to stand up for himself and punish other gang members who slight him (Micah and Bill, in particular). In many ways, Dutch provides through the gang a safety net Javier probably didn't even dream of achieving when he crossed the border.

And then Guarma happens.

I, personally, cannot overstate enough how much I think Javier's experiences on Guarma reinforce his loyalty and blind faith in Dutch. He is tortured, ridiculed, and humiliated, and who is it that opens that cage door and literally pulls Javier out of it all? Carries him over his shoulder out of a compound of Cubans that would rather see their heads on pikes?

You guessed it, it's Dutch. Yes, Arthur does a lot of the heavy lifting, but let's be real - Dutch is the one who gets the credit, as usual. He made the plan, after all, and notably, he IS actually the one grabbing Javier and hauling him out of there.

That means, that the two times we know of, where Javier has been at his absolute worst, Dutch is the one who has saved him. Javier, who is so loyal even Arthur acknowledges the immensity of it. So who is then surprised that he doubles down even harder, when they return to the US, and things take a turn for the worse in Beaver Hollow?

In that moment, at the end of chapter 6, Javier cares more about siding with Dutch, than he cares about Dutch siding with Micah.

And I'll argue a similar case for Bill; he has speeches, camp events, where he straight up says Dutch saved him, saved the people of the gang. This is literally The Thing, with these two, that makes their choices at the end really make sense, in my eyes.

It's also important to note that Javier is literally the most clueless among them when he makes that choice. He wasn't there for most of the conversation leading up to it -- he literally just came from being on watch, to warn them about the encroaching Pinkertons. And, as everyone knows, he doesn't point his gun at Arthur and John, and he nor Bill are there for the horse chase scene, blah blah, those points have been done a million times, you already know them.

"Okay, but Teki," you say, trying to reason with my rambling fanatic self. "How do you know Lenny and Sean wouldn't go down similar paths, if they survived past their scripted deaths?" And I say onto you, verily; because neither of them really have similar savior stories with Dutch, thematically.

I mean for goodness' sake, Sean tried to ROB Dutch and Hosea, upon meeting them intially. They just liked his guts and invited him along, and Sean was like, 'shit why not, aint got nothin better to do!' - paraphrased, of course, but in my heart of hearts that's what he said.

All we know definitely with Lenny is that he joined the gang while traversing the Grizzlies, the year before the events of the game. Whether it was a savior situation or a mutually beneficial situation, isn't actually fully known. We can make assumptions and speculate until we're all blue in the face, but I have stronger points for Lenny's case so let's move on.

So, as I've talked about before, Lenny is acknowledged as among the smarter members of the gang, despite his youth. He is one of the only ones who intellectually challenges Dutch, and he is clearly not afraid to criticise Dutch's ideas and ideals -- when prompted.

(Side note, as I said at the start but want to really emphasize here, I really think chapter 6 is the one that would be the most impacted by Lenny's survival. He has shown himself remarkably aware of societal issues contemporary to his time, so look me in the eyes and tell me you genuinely believe he, as a black man, wouldn't attempt to intervene in some way when Dutch starts fucking with the Wapiti. That kid has balls of steel and audacity up the whazoo, and he's excruciatingly aware of how black people in the US have been royally fucked over by white men. You think he'd see the Wapiti struggling, Dutch scheming, and be like 'oh yay more white man shenanigans! lets go!' ?? bffr!)

Lenny ALSO is among the newer members of the gang; it provides him safety and respect that's hard found outside it, yes, but in my opinion he straight up does not have enough cost sunk into this fallacy, for it to fallacy properly in his head, if you catch my drift. I think if it's not for the fact that he has genuine bonds with people in the gang by the time chapter 6 rolls around, like Charles and Sadie do at that point, he probably would be smart enough to dip, like other characters do.

And that's sort of the thing, too, with both Lenny and Sean. They don't actually have daddy issues in the same way Arthur and John do.

Lenny and Sean are very similar in that they had good relationships with their fathers, and are proud of their parentage -- what wisdom and teachings their fathers managed to impart upon their sons before passing, has stuck with them. They are not in need of a new father figure, and they certainly do not seek it in Dutch(nor Hosea), not like Arthur and John do.

They find a sense of brotherhood in the gang, sure, and they view the other members as family (you can pry their little brother statuses from my cold dead hands), but Dutch is their leader, not their guardian, not their teacher, and certainly not anything close to a father, in their eyes. The fact that Lenny discusses literature with him is indicative of this -- the conversation is one of opinion between would-be equals, not of mentor and protege. The fact that Dutch only really seems interested in Sean as far as he serves as camp clown is also indicative of how Sean might feel about him, too. Dutch literally yells at Sean for taking a break from being the silly goofy distraction, in one camp interaction -- and from the way Sean talks about him, I don't think that sort of behavior has a lot of fatherly associations for the 'irish terrier'.

And that leads us to my pièce de résistance, dear fellow cowboy maniacs (you must be, if you've read thus far). Lenny and Sean are both closer, and friendlier with Arthur, than they are with Dutch. Example: Both of them poking fun at Arthur in ways they do not with Dutch. Sean telling Arthur he loves him - like an insane amount of times. Lenny chooses Arthur to go riding with, time and time again.

And guess what? When we see Sean and Lenny at their lowest, who is it that helps them out?

If you answered Arthur Morgan, give yourself a pat on the back and a gold star sticker!

We are literally introduced to Sean while Arthur leads Javier and Charles into saving him from bounty hunters. Arthur is the one cutting him down from that tree, bringing him upright, making sure he is okay. Arthur is also the one who saves him from being shot to death on the train robbery in Pouring Forth Oil. When Lenny comes to tell the gang about Micah being in jail in Strawberry, he has also just narrowly escaped being lynched, and it is Arthur who brings him away from that experience, calms him down and allows him to relax and let loose again.

Both Sean and Lenny have a deeper, more profound connection to Arthur, than they have Dutch. And consequently, if they were to survive until the end of chapter 6 and were the then much-more-unlikely showdown scene to happen, they would certainly not side with Dutch & Micah, over Arthur & John.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #sean macguire #lenny summers #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #javier escuella #rdr2 meta #rdr thoughts #teki talks #long post #if you read all of this ily #this is several rants and a half but ive been meaning to write it all up for AGES #i get so unironically mad abt ppl saying sean and lenny would side with dutch. this is the hill i die on (among many)

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