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bonefall · 11 months

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Heartstar's Rise: Fragments

Links: Heartstar's Character summary, Better Bones History Lesson

So I'm making a character sheet for Heartstar, which kind of ended up looking a lot like Hollyleaf's. Basically a summary of all the stories related to her so far, y'know?

And I realized that when I got to Heartstar's Rise, the redux of Tigerheart's Shadow, it was a lot messier than the other appearances. So I figured it may be good form to post the fragments here, separate, until the story's a bit more "solid" so I can edit this post a bunch of times while shuffling things around.

So yeah, as always, weigh in with your thoughts and feedback! This one's looking for changes.

Current version: 1.04: Either Rippletail/Buster or Spiderfoot is getting a cameo.

HEARTSTAR'S RISE! The book where Tigerheart becomes leader and resurrects ShadowClan.

I have a couple goals here for Heartstar's Rise, which I'm trying to keep in mind.

First is to show the "growing pains" for the newly arrived SkyClan, and conflict between them and the Kin refugees they're hosting. Why it doesn't work to just be one big Clan.

Show why certain characters want to go home (Blossomfall), why others want ShadowClan back, and also add a couple of characters who want to stay with SkyClan (Violetshine and her polycule of Tree and Dragonfly, as well as Olivenose of ShadowClan and one RiverClan cat, for later drafts).

IMPORTANT: Build out the Guardian Cats that Heartstar and Dovewing are going to encounter into a full culture, with their own idea of an afterlife, and "Leader Power" like the expansion I gave to the Tribe.

And here's a couple of key changes I want to point out;

AVoS was Kin-centric. Heartstar's Rise takes place right after the defeat of the Kin. BB!AVoS ends with the death of Darktail and fleeing of the Kin remnants.

SkyClan was PRESENT for that final confrontation, helping to defeat the Kin and 'earning' their place at the Lake

A new code commandment was added out of solemn respect to the memory of ShadowClan; The Law of the Lake, that all Clans have a responsibility to the preservation of the others.

Several cats defected to the Kin, ones who felt excluded from the Clans after the Great Battle. Mainly young cats who wanted change, but also a fair amount of Dark Forest trainees, halfclan lovers, cats who will come to be called 'codebreakers.' Blossomfall was one of them.

Leaders can no longer give up their lives without losing them all, and they prevent the next leader from getting them as long as they're alive. EVEN IF they have only 1 life left. Rowanstar will call himself Rowanclaw, but he is still leader until he is dead.

Possible prophecy for Rowanstar: "Your heart will make ShadowClan rise"

Here's what I got so far;

I VERY MUCH WANT TO ADD THIS: Keep an eye out for a good moment to place a kit rescue. Several cats had kittens during the Kin's reign; Ivytail (1), Blossomfall (3), Yarrowleaf (2), and I know that I want the Kit Rescue to be a plot point somehow.

It will be replacing Rowanstar's 'canon' death, so maybe towards the end? Dovewing is also coming home with her two kits. Possible connection? But, maybe it would be better placed earlier... basically, keep an eye out, gang. It's towards the end for now unless I find a better spot.

I know I want to open up with Tigerheart in SkyClan, sorting through her thoughts.

First of all, she's thinking of how she spent time in ThunderClan as a refugee during the Kin Crisis, and got between 💕Dovewing💕 and bumblestripe.

She asked Dove to come with her when she left, but Dove felt that there was too much uncertainty. Tiger didn't even have her own Clan she was going back to.

Bitter, Tiger felt like she chose bumblestripe over her. The Drama.

But her Clanmates... well, what's left of ShadowClan, they need her.

Scenes of Tigerheart showing that she is friendly with lots of them, including Ivytail in particular who is suffering from lung damage from Yellowcough and the stress of the Kin Ordeal is just starting to catch up with her. Like she'd been hiding how badly the illness affected her so she'd stay useful.

Ivytail is the new mother of Gullswoop. Remember the Kit Rescue thing-- should Gullkit be taken from her right now and be possibly alive with the kin, and they don't know? May be nice to show her just wishing she knew what happened.

There's also been some tensions with SkyClan

SkyClan doesn't enjoy the bogland that was created during Blackstar's marsh project, and has set up camp in a patch of Pine Forest on the easternmost edge of ShadowClan's old territory, like they want to get away from it.

Leafstar is a fine leader and trying to integrate the big influx of new cats, but most of them are not trained to hunt well in exclusively pine forest.

SkyClan is also, well, polite about the cuisine differences, but... Tiger's going to admit it. Squirrel tastes like dirty butt. The food is dry as hell and they don't use enough juniper.

So ShadowClan and SkyClan cats are having tension when assigned to Kitchen Patrol, unable to come together to make meals that please everyone, and that's 'the indicator' of the same problem everywhere else. For example;

ShadowClan cats are forming cliques and having difficulty joining the Clan broadly

Patrols are awkward as ShadowClan isn't good at hunting the same land as their hosts, this is embarrassing.

Some ex-Shadow construction crew cats are concerned that Blackstar's old dam will degrade and they'll lose cultivated marshland, but Leafstar doesn't 'get' the value in sacrificing several cats for a dedicated patrol to maintain that structure

And all the while, Rowanclaw isn't doing anything.

He hasn't replaced his deputy since Crowfrost died of lung complications due to Yellowcough and the Kin took over ShadowClan.

He's tired. There were so few survivors. Everything happened under his watch and he can't do this anymore.

IMPORTANT: I want to frame this less as "Rowanstar was an incompetent leader and this is all his fault" like canon, and make it more like Rowanstar has lost faith in himself, and THAT is what's making everyone mad at him.

It was Onestar who didn't share the Mullein they needed for the Yellowcough outbreak. It was the other Clans who didn't step in. Rowanstar should have asked for help sooner, but that aside, there was very little he could have done.

Though he's positive there must have been something.

All the while, Tigerheart displays her characteristic cheekiness. I want to adapt this fun scene I wrote where she passes Reedclaw a crayfish soup in the hopes of unsettling him and it doesn't work

DOVEWING TIME

Now that we understand why Tigerheart cares so much about her Clanmates, what they mean to her, and why she was so desperate to get back to them, it's time to visit Dovewing!

DOVEWING IS VERY HARD OF HEARING.

The hearing loss has slowed down, but there is still the threat that she could lose the rest of it.

She wakes up next to Bumblestripe, trying to sneak out of the nest to not wake him too, happy to have a little bit of alone time

Unfortunately he shoots up right away. She wracks her brain trying to think of what did it-- and realizes the nest is dry and probably made a creek she didn't hear

Sneaking has become really hard lately.

Basically some action to show some of the difficulties she's now having with her hearing loss

We get to experience a ThunderClan contrasted to the Shadow Survivors living under SkyClan. How Dovewing feels resentful to how she can't get alone time, the fact that Ivypool was rude to Tigerheart when she was around and their relationship is sour again, Mom Cinderheart and Aunt Fallenleaf and Dad Lionblaze and Stepdad Toadstep

Everything frustrates her, even harmless things.

But what's testing her patience is how cats who were telling her what to do when she had her powers are STILL telling her what to do without them

She's losing her hearing, and several cats are encouraging her to stick to 'regiments' of training. Glyph reading and writing, lipreading, picking up the modified battle command tail signs that Whitewing uses, not letting her leave camp alone

Lionblaze in particular sets her off pretty badly, even when he's 'being nice.'

Contrast to Birchfall who always makes her feel better, her mentor.

After some time of buildup, she ends up snapping at someone innocent who wasn't even really doing anything wrong. Probably Poppyfrost

Poppyfrost: "...I know you've been through a lot lately, but... you have people here for you, Bumblestripe is a good mate, you shouldn't be so afraid of having kits-"

Dove: "???????????????????????????????????? WHAT"

Poppyfrost: *about to repeat her sentence but louder but realizes, ah, that's not how she meant that.*

Dove runs off and has a panic attack

She doesn't want to raise kits now

She doesn't want to raise kits here

She doesn't want to raise kits with Bumblestripe

She doesn't want to raise kits with a bunch of cats breathing down her neck all the time, treated like she's just as much of a child as her children will be

But where will she go??

She turned down Tigerheart's offer to join SkyClan with her, and now she's pregnant with Bumblestripe's litter and he will never leave her alone

Who would take her, if not Tigerheart?

There's no place to go besides twolegplaces

But she is panicking, overwhelmed, and can't handle the idea of being here for one more minute

IF IT SUCKS HIT DA BRICKS

She bolts east, beyond the territory, not caring where she goes as long as it's not here, leaving her entire family behind

TRAVEL TIME

Tigerheart catches wind that Dovewing left ThunderClan, they're probably surprised and alarmed that she didn't join SkyClan

Poppyfrost/Whoever the cat was that realized Dove was pregnant should speak to Tiger and tell her where Dove was last seen

Tiger, being the cat who knows her best, wracks her brain thinking about where she would have gone

Barn? No, Dovewing hates that Smoky guy

North? No, probably would have scented her on the territory, and besides if you go North enough you hit a twolegplace. She can't hear the cars anymore but she would still hate the smell.

East. Definitely east.

It pains Tigerheart to leave, though. Her friends are all here, she left ThunderClan and Dovewing because they needed her, and they still do... but Dovewing is alone in the wilderness!

So, she goes. She has to.

The chapters of Tigerheart traveling are much shorter, occasionally cutting between her and Dovewing.

We next see Dovewing already with the Guardians, developing a friendship with a big cat ironically named Ant

Cutting back to Tigerheart involves her trying to figure out WHERE Dovewing went. She has to work it out backwards-- eventually finding out from a strange, singing cat that Dovewing hopped aboard a train.

The language barrier is a problem. She is able to catch something about the cat going by... Scrimblesomething.

Seamew is an interesting language, she remarks, not realizing this cat is not speaking Seamew.

Either Rippletail/Buster or Spiderfoot is here, excited that they recognize Tigerheart, asking how everyone is and catching up on all they've missed since they've left ShadowClan

They translate for Tigerheart, cuddling to the cat with the strange language, and explains what trains they must take and how to get onto them.

At least a week or two later, she finds the old Church.

GUARDIAN TIME

It's a gorgeous ruin, surrounded by lush flora that she's only ever seen in Twoleg gardens. The church is one of the most beautiful dens she's ever seen, in spite of being half-human construction, the other half is well-grown vines and sod. Like a living structure.

It's half as beautiful as Dovewing, so surely she must be here.

BIG WIP TERRITORY

I know that I want the Guardian's thing to be that they are very good caretakers of their areas. This is because these cats are BREAKAWAYS from the ancient Lake culture, the fact that their home was lost to environmental destruction gave them this cultural value.

They are much better builders than any other group. Clan cats have a specialty for Combat, Tribe cats have a specialty for Hunting, Guardians are Construction.

They rely on managing prey-rich territory and their fighting ability is really just enough to defend themselves.

The same way that Clan cats have Stars and Tribe cats have a Stoneteller, Guardians have their own unique power. Their leader (the "Groundskeeper"; 'warriors' are Gardeners) has a supernatural ability to understand what's inside their 'sphere of influence,' and the needs of any plants that live there.

So in a roundabout way, the leader is all-seeing as long as their territory is verdant. Grass and moss can tell them exactly where an animal is stepping, and how large it is.

So it was known immediately that Tigerheart was just a single cat, not an invading group

Dovewing has been fitting in pretty well with these cats. They speak a completely different language, one that Dovewing couldn't understand even if she could hear it.

They have a couple chapters exploring how life could be different. Tigerheart aches thinking about the dam back home and how the simple lattices they use just to grow flowers puts Blackstar's ambitious project to shame.

They grow close with some of the Guardians' younger members, plus an older one who tries to meet Tigerheart's language halfway. He teaches her the word for "Spire."

Some time later, there is a conversation just after Light and Shadow are born; "What does a Clan mean to you?"

Dovewing continues before she can answer: "To me it means trees, the forest, it's something you work for. Everyone gives something to it and it's greater than the sum of its parts."

Tigerheart frowns at that, thinking of how she's going to share her response.

She draws Rowanstar, Strikestone, and Ivytail. A crayfish. A bowl around the crayfish like she was making it into soup. The grave of Flametail with the flowers around it. Frogs. Dawnpelt with three little kittens at her side.

She really gets into it, pouring her heart into the drawing, it gets bigger and bigger, she has to stand up and move around

And just when Dovewing thinks that either Tigerheart's lost her marbles or forgotten she's there, she starts drawing circles around the little doodles, and then lines that connect the circles all together

The last thing she draws is a final bubble, and connects that to a line in the web that binds all these things together.

In that empty bubble, she writes, "Clan."

Dovewing stares at that, unmoving, her expression serious and thoughtful.

It hits Dovewing, in that moment, that Tigerheart has a very different idea of what a Clan is. Dovewing believes it's about service, sacrifice, the things that Lionblaze taught her. That you're born as an asset, and your responsibility is to contribute to that collective as much as possible

But Tigerheart believes that a Clan is all the connections between the things associated with it. That it's a series of links between friends, family, land, and prey. That to be 'part' of a Clan is to be part of the fabric.

She thinks back to ThunderClan, even the people she loves like Birchfall, and the pressure they put on her to 'meet' her potential at all times

The contrast to what she likes about this life, with the Guardians, where there are no expectations

She thinks about her kittens, how Tigerheart fell in love with them immediately, her worries that she would have nowhere to go. That Tigerheart HAS somewhere to return to, where she wants to be.

I want to retool the line from the canon version, where Dovewing says "I will never make you choose between your Clan and me." Something about the line bugs me.

I want to retool it to either Tigerheart assuring her she'll stay with her no matter what and Dovewing deciding that's not right either, or the two of them having a synthesis where Dovewing decides that home is wherever Tigerheart is

Dunno, still thinking about it.

BUT IN ANY CASE--

Spire and some of the other cats Dovewing got close to come up. Spire is touched.

Drawing all that on the ground communicated something deep to them. It was a beautiful way to demonstrate Tigerheart's connections. Re:Guardian Power; connection to their territory.

(I want for at least Spire to be privy to the same power their leader has, still working on this)

Ant, Cinnamon, and Blaze all have their reason for why they want to come

Ant is a little older than Dovewing and Tigerheart, and became a good friend of theirs. She wants to help them get home with the kittens; she'll go wherever Dove goes.

Cinnamon is bored, she wants to try new things and go to new lands. She's tired of growing roses, and has never seen a 'swamp' before.

Blaze is young and restless, he's ready to set out and have his own life

In-canon, Spiresight comes along too. He's the adopted father of Blaze and that's why he came along, but I'm not sure if I need Spire to leave with them. I think it may be best for him to just remain behind, maybe be the leader of the Guardians, change his name to "Spire-Seer" as a title referencing the new Guardian ability.

But anyway, if Spiresight doesn't go as well, then Blaze wants to make a new legacy separate from his father, be his own person.

EMPTY SPACE... TIME

They go home and I'm still working on this

I do not care much about the journey back honestly, in-canon the whole thing with the train and drawbridge was cool but I'm not interested in retelling it honestly.

It's not what's emotionally important

I think I want to do something here where Tigerheart returns and we BRING UP THAT KIT RESCUE THING

Instead of Tiger like, dying to a random owl. In hindsight Canon!Tigerheart's Shadow feels like it's full of quicktime events.

Anyway, if that's the case, I need to construct a situation where Leafstar refuses to attack the Kin Remnants and steal children

Some of them belong to cats like Ivytail, but the kits are being cared for by the Kin Remnants, they have fathers/other mothers, and she does not feel right about attacking and stealing them.

Even when a cat like Yarrowleaf breaks away and begs them to go back and help her take her children because they aren't safe with Nettle.

Leafstar still can't say if Yarrowleaf is lying or not, she was part of the Kin just as much as Nettle was.

Like... something like that. She's not being unreasonable but the Shadow cats are understandly upset.

it's why i hesitate to have kits get actively stolen even though it works well for dramatic setup, that would cross a line and force Leafstar to go "save" them, else look like she's just taking stupid pills

I want to display that Tigerheart as a leader will make controversial, ShadowClan-centric choices, and has a very, "diplomacy is how I get what I want" mindset.

Leafstar: "Wow this is a complicated situation and I'm not sure what the right call is here, I think I'll play it safe and watch the situation evolve before making a choice I regret."

Tigerheart: "Wow this is a complicated situation. Good thing I'm always right and incapable of being wrong, ever 💕"

Rowanclaw is still refusing to lead, backing up Leafstar. He says there is no ShadowClan.

--Tigerheart has entered the group chat

"damn bitches youre living like this"

Big damn speech: "I've gone far in my travels, met strange cats and lived by their ways. I've become a refugee of ThunderClan, a warrior of SkyClan, a grower of the Guardians, and a traveler with no home at all. I became a lover, a mother, like a Star with each life I became something new and yet remained the same. We are ShadowClan cats, and it's time we made our own choices!"

YEEHOOO

Cats split. ShadowClan returns to its own territory and plans to attack and get their kits back

The Kin Remnants are small but fight ferociously

This is a big change from canon, btw, where Sleek comes home to steal children and bully Rowanstar because she's evil or something.

Insert battle here

Possible kill; Ivytail, who was willing to fight to the death to get her kitten back, reunited for only a brief moment.

Though it also works that no Clan deaths happen besides Heartstar, since I plan to kill a lot to the Kin and the final stand against Darktail

Either way, it's bloody, lots of injuries. Rowanstar arrives in the last minutes to aid the fight, and gets killed... along Tigerheart.

But Rowanstar comes back to life and Tiger doesn't

Got killed in her first fight. GIRLBOSS

Rowanstar wakes up at what should be his daughter's funeral.

Shadowkit is staring at Tigerheart's body (formative moment unlocked)

Dovewing should be sad, but she looks furious. She's a hulking, angry beast, glaring down at Tigerheart's tiny body.

Mid-obituary, interrupting whatever Puddleshine was saying, she straightup snatches the corpse

Explains NOTHING, BYE

In another draft I may just explain the aftermath here, have Rowanstar wake up after Dovewing has already done some preemptive graverobbing and learn from Tawnypelt that she's run to the Moonpool

I could keep Shadowsight's Formative Moment by having him get kidnapped, too, so Heartstar died trying to get her kids back

(See how it's a hard choice between kidnapping vs no kidnapping?)

In any case, the next scene is the climax

ROWANSTAR'S DEATH

Seeing Tigerheart here, at Dovewing's feet, the reflection of the pool turning her starry-silver...

Rowanclaw's stomach is cold like ice

Tawnypelt tries to reason with Dovewing, ask what she thought was going to happen

Dovewing doesn't answer, if she can hear her at all. The rage is melting away into despair.

Hope is slipping away like raindrops through claws, like stars at the start of a cruel dawn

Like a son to icy cracks, a daughter to rancid lies, a deputy to someone's selfish games

The thought of 7 more lives of losing everything is unbearable. His claws slide out. He had rejected his name, but he is a leader now.

"Tigerheart is my deputy!" He bellows at the stars, charges forth, and splashes into the water with her under his paws

He kicks furiously, swimming as deep as he can.

His vision blurs and fades, bursting into a starry field of colors and awestruck ancestors.

They say nothing. His gaze darts from cat to cat, until he spots Tigerheart there among them.

When he plunges back into life, he swims harder

His lungs are burning and his muscles ache, the pressure of the water crushing him, and there's no bottom in sight

Each time he dies, he sees Tigerheart there, next to Flametail and Dawnpelt, Newtspeck, Littlecloud

And each time he comes back he sees her face below his claws.

When he comes back the last time, her eyes burst open and she thrashes at the claws gently lodged in her chest fur with confusion

Rowanstar is exhausted, but finds the last bit of strength in his body to flip them, lodge his paws onto her belly, and thrust her up

Beams of starlight dancing on his face, Rowanstar is embraced by the endless darkness at the bottom of the Moonpool.

Heartstar bursts from the pool, coughing, sputtering, fur clinging to her body and looking like a wet rat

Without hestiarion, Dovewing leaps into the pool, teary eyed and calling her name

"dOVEWING you wont BELIEVE what I've been through"

Heartstar is marveling about her death, her fetching, how she was looking at the patrons of Silverpelt before Rowanstar plucked her out

Dovewing hauls her out of the water and starts licking her dry, and Tawnypelt hesitates to join them. She look back at the Moonpool

The thick ripples lap at the rim for a moment, vanishing rapidly as if she water was smoothing itself out. Soon, it's as still as the day it was discovered, liquid-black and reflecting starlight as if it were a fallen piece of the night sky.

Tawnypelt stares into the darkness, seeing nothing.

"Be starlight that lights my path, Rowanstar. I love you."

She goes to help Dovewing dry off her daughter

Epilogue

One week later, Heartstar is assessing her Clan.

The cats address her as Heartstar; confirmation that it is bad luck for cats to share a title.

That's a reason why the ancestors are consulted before warrior name ceremonies, and they gave Heartstar a new name when she rose

Translator's note: Though her suffix was -babun, "heartbeating," her new prefix is the future tense, Babi, "heart will beat." It's in reference to her resurrection.

The kittens that were won in the raid are acclimating

Especially Oat and Flax, Yarrowleaf's kids, now that they're away from Nettle.

If Ivytail died, Gullkit is still having a hard time. She follows the other kits around but has behavior problems, is a bit of a bully.

Apprenticeship will help her a lot.

While making the rounds, Blossomfall approaches Heartstar.

"I've been thinking about what you said, about living a dozen lives but still having ShadowClan be part of you. I think I feel the same way... I want my kits to know their auncles"

Heartstar does the cat equivalent of clucking her tongue, "will they take you take you tho"

"Yes assholestar. They reached out to me, my family wants me to come home"

Heartstar sighs lamentiously. One adult warrior and three future ones is a lot to lose. But,

"Divided loyalties won't do anyone any good. Well, if ThunderClan wants you back, it's worth taking a crackle at!"

"Your puns suck" (Blossomeese for thank you)

Construction patrol comes back, caked with mud. Cinnamontail fits right in. She's got some great ideas about lattices, whatever that means

After all this, assuring that everything is running smoothly, Heartstar finally gets to loaf down next to her wife and a crayfish soup, perfectly spiced.

There are still problems; SkyClan takes territory to the east, and RiverClan got waay too comfy with having exclusive fishing rights in the dammed pond and marshland to the west. Knowing Mistystar, she'll start throwing her weight around in the next moon as the seasons change, and when that happens SkyClan will be an issue as Shadow needs that territory

But for now, ShadowClan is thriving, Lightkit and Shadowkit are growing well, and Juniperclaw is a fine deputy like his father Crowfrost.

Next to Dovewing and the rest of her friends and allies, in the mud and the mushrooms, marshy moss underfoot and wet, chilly breeze that calms a wild heart above... they are finally home.

#Heartstar's Rise #Better bones au #Heartstar #Bb!tigerheartstar #Amazing what free time while waiting on a train can do for your writing

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mazeinthemiroh · 2 years

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I see your request is open and I'm excited to make one ❤️😭 can I request how ateez would react on trying period cramp simulator?? Like their s/o brought them the device and forces them to have a taste of how it feels to be at the verge of dying every once a month 🤧

ateez reactions to a period cramp simulator

genre: full crack, lmao

word count: 0.7k

warnings: mentions of a pain kink, cursing

authors notes: lowercase intentional. thank you so much for requesting, honestly you made my day this was such a good idea of yours! i really enjoyed writing this, the thought of it is so freaking funny to me idk why 😭 anyways i really hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

hongjoong

i can just imagine his face dropping when you tell him what that device in your hand was for. you can see his fear building in his eyes. he would throw some excuse at you like "oh yeah for sure i will do that but uhh maybe another time? i'm too busy atm baby" or "nah i'm tired rn, but it sounds like a great idea don't get me wrong *eye twitch*" obviously you don't give his excuses the time of day, walking over and pulling his shirt up, telling him "well my period comes at inconvenient times too. when nature calls you'll just have to deal with it-" "YEAH BUT IT ISN'T NATURAL FOR ME??"

seonghwa

he thinks you're joking at first ngl. he lets out a soft little chuckle at your idea, but when he sees you're actually serious all laughing stops. will hold your hand and squeeze it extremely hard like its a birth simulator instead of a period one because he is ✨STRUGGLING.✨ afterwards he will probably be like "babe, i had no idea this was so painful 🥺🥺🥺" and proceed to buy you mountains of chocolates, flowers, sanitary products, everything. he's so supportive <3

yunho

baby asks what he has done wrong 😭😭 like, what has he done to deserve this?? but you have to reassure him like "noooo, you didn't do anything wrong i was just curious and wanted to try it." he's giving you the biggest, most adorable puppy eyes he could ever muster but he eventually lets you have your little experiment. and regretfully so. i feel like yunho has pretty good pain tolerance but still, he has never had this amount of pain in that specific area so he's amazed

yeosang

"no" "yes" "no" "yes" "i'm not doing that" "yes you are". it will take a lot of bickering before yeosang gives into you, rolling his eyes when you sort out the device on him. you start on the lowest setting but because he was arguing with you before you turn the pain level up, and up, and up. "yeah its not that ba- ah!" he winces as it gets worse and worse. "there is no way you go through this every month??"

san

gets all pouty and starts whining when you put the device on him. "y/nnnn ahh have a not been a sweet boyfriend to you? treated you right? why must i suffer????" when you finally turn on the simulator, at first he's like "...oh... yk what i think i can do this actuall- LORD HELP ME" you'd think those rock hard abs of his could withstand the pain but man is trying to fight back tears over here-

mingi

mingi thinks he is going to die. his pain tolerance is not that best so this simulator thing is pretty unbearable for him. at some point you gotta take pity on the guy and low the pain because you can see in his eyes that he's hurting so much <///3 after this littel experiment is over, he is panting and glaring at you. "right, no cuddles for you for the rest of the week!" this little protests literally lasts an hour, tops

wooyoung

"so what you're saying is that you have a pain kink" "wha- wooyoung!" "why else do you want me to do this?" he laughs his obnoxious hyena laugh ily wooyoung and he's obviously teasing you and turning it into a joke but there's no deny the trace of hesitance in his eyes. anyways long story short, you have to tackle and restrain him to put the device on. you don't know if he's being his super dramatic self or if he is in actual pain but he is not having a good time, nope. he's definitely gonna get you back for this one.

jongho

would probably laugh and shrug. he likes a good challenge and i feel like he has good pain tolerance too?? so he's like "sure, why not ig?" but as the cramps start to increase in frequency and pain, in his mind he starts to regret his decision. his face is blank for most of the time because you're just staring at him waiting to see his reaction. he sorta purses his lips and mutters "are we done yet?" and you smile and shrug "nah we still got the highest setting to go." oh shit.

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dadmareau · 1 year

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Does Sunbeam work himself into the ground sometimes, and if he does what's dadmare's reaction to that?

+ Now that he's older, do some biases he had as a child/feelings change? Did little Nightmare know the amount of responsibility Dream forced on himself? Now an adult with more experience and knowledge, does he see the things his brother went through in a different light? Did he envy, even feel a little bitter towards his brother as a child, and has that emotion changed now that he has a different view of what happened/what's happening? maybe this is a bit much to ask all at once but ohh I'm so curious about how Nightmare feels/felt about his brother... and how maybe Dream's life wasn't as idyllic as he thought.

Love all of this. Hope these responses work.

1) Sunbeam does work himself into the ground, and gradually, Nightmare has gravitated out from bedrest to actively watch over him and ensure he doesn’t get pushed around. Initially, Sunbeam took offense to this and felt he was being looked down on-he feels it’s his duty to be help others even at the cost of himself. Nightmare is heavily against this.

Later on, Sunbeam would be able to forget his guilt and frustration and just exist as a child. He’s encouraged by Nightmare to go play with other kids and do whatever he wants, instead of constantly helping others.

2) Nightmare’s biases have changed over the time he got to process everything. He feels less angry and more… bitter. He’s had time to think of exactly what he would want to do and how he would do it to every person who wronged him, and who he’s forgiven or forgotten thus far.

You’ll find there are specific characters he has a strong grudge against-and others that have simply faded to memories. Most of those who’ve faded are kids. He’d feel ridiculous tormenting a child for something they hadn’t done (yet) or didn’t fully understand the impact of.

3) Kid Nightmare didn’t quite realize the full scope of Dream’s plight. I’d imagine he wasn’t really capable, having grown up with that being their only option. Additionally, he was more preoccupied with how he was being treated.

Dream was his baby brother, and Dream was also the Chosen One from his book. To everyone else, being the Hero was more important than being Nightmare’s brother. He hated this.

Most of the time, when he saw Dream, he thought ‘brother.’ But when he felt abandoned, he thought Dream was doing what he had to as the Hero of the story. Still, he blamed Dream for leaving him behind when he needed him most, and felt betrayed while still pushing him away. Dream needed to help the villagers, it was what he had to do because everyone said they had to.

As an adult, Nightmare had time to process. He partly blames Dream, still, but most of the animosity is for the person he’d grow up to. A lot of his hatred is for the villagers.

4) Originally, Nightmare, as a child, was envious of Dream. Dream was surrounded by constant love, friends, and attention. It wouldn’t make sense to him why Dream could even think of being miserable while being clearly cherished. He could understand being tired out, since he had to work so much, but he didn’t grasp the full constant burden of responsibility and expectations Dream had.

Why would Dream have room to be sad when he wasn’t being outcasted and bullied like Nightmare? He didn’t understand what kind of pain his brother was in-mainly because Dream didn’t even know.

Now, as an adult entrenched in the past and forced to re-evaluate everything he thought he knew, Nightmare recognizes that it was far more complex than he knew. Dream was worked to the bone, he was cherished, but he was abused. Nightmare and Dream were scapegoats of fault for the village. They were never children to them.

It makes him sad and frustrated and angry, to know he’s back here, and to know that the issue isn’t easily solved by a bit of carnage. (Well, it could be solved that way… but the thought of upsetting his brother stops him.)

#worldbuilding #ooc #modmare #dadmare #inbox #sunbeam #modmare answers #pure stream of consciousness #bit hard to fully word all of it but this is the gist

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flamingskull28 · 11 days

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(Agent 96 story from the poll)

3 sat between Callie and Marie, staring off and being unaware of everything besides the beaming summer time heat and her fellow Agents in the distance.

4 was practicing at the row of target bloons, there used to be just 3 but 4 and 8 worked together to add various targets, some moving and others impopable..

They were both so talented...

3's cheeks flushed as she watched 4 tear through the target range with each weapon she had then switch to the next and do it again with ease. The girls movements were perfect anytime she broke from a sprint, 4 instantly swung her weapon and took her target out then the next.

3 wondered if they'd ever be on that level of strength or precision, maybe not but it still was enjoyable to watch 4 at work. The Agents firm muscles catching 3's eye consistently, they showed perfectly with 4's long elegant tentacle, shorts and crop top combined with their hero jacket tied around their waist. Seeing 4 like this made 3's stomach flutter in strange ways... her face was getting way to hot as well..

3 turned their gazed to 8, who was tinkering with various weapons at Sheldon's upgrade station. Though it didn't help 3's situation as the octoling zipped through the contents of a splatling, seeming to know the device like the back of her own hand.

8 had taken off the front barrel of a hydra and grabbed the barrel from a nearby killer wail cannon, somehow gripping the heavy part with one hand showing strength simler to 4's. 8 went on to weld the two items together, taking a brief moment to admire the handy work then instantly diving back into the Frankenstein of a splating.

3 blushed further, these two were astounding. 3 knew how she felt about them but... how would she ever be on their level?

3 hoped she'd ever have the strength to tell them how she felt.

----

4 grunted as she put a full force swing into hitting the target balloon. Destroying the thing instantly. She smirked, having gone through the course with all her weapons three times now. This thing had been a pain for her and 8 to build... though 4 didn't think she deserved much credit, she'd only offered ideas and stuck mechanics together, 8 was the real brains.. she was so smart...

4 took a seat next to her training course, as close to 8 as possible without being to weird. She took the chance to look over the marvel of weapon tech, 8 had stuck together. 4 went over the amount of carefully connected components and clever welding it took to form a hydra with a killer wail, in her head and admired 8's skills even more. A blush overtakeing her.

She really hopped no one noticed her staring at 8's mechanics outfit and tied up tentacles, 8 was very pretty girl.... 4 never had the heart to say that to her though...

"H-Hey 4 mind i-if... I uh, try the training course?" 3 approached timidly, 4 found their nervousness adorable given the girl always looked so tough from afar. Oddly 4 got the same happy and bubbly feeling when 3 was around as she did with 8...

"Of course ya dummy, it's a training course for all of us. It's about time I see you try it out." 4 remarked with a lighthearted shoulder punch then stood back to give 3 room.

3 flashed a smile in response then rested their hero shot. 3 definitely didn't match 4 in strength or precision but her agility and tactical prowess were more then enough to burn through the training course.

4 was impressed with how efficiently 3 cleared it on their first go. Sure it was a bit slow and she manged to get knocked over by one of the reinflating balloons but still. Though 4 was a bit biased, she loved to watch 3 at work and this was no different, why was a question 4 had yet to understand.

A call from 8 caught her attention before she could ponder it.

"Maybe one day I can tell them about this weird feeling.." she mumbled

----

"4,3! I believe it's finished." 8 smiled confidently while wiping the sweat from her head.

"That hydra + killer wail thing you've been crafting?" 3 sat her gun down and walked over with 4.

"The Wailing Hydra." 4 stated matter of factly with a hint if teasing.

"Yup! Been putting this together all day, not to mention designing it.." 8 held the weapon up proudly, clearly struggling to support the weight. It was a hydra mixed with a killer wail, various tubed, braces and an extra large tank were required to make it so that was a given. "Who wants the first test run? I don't want to be using it if it explodes." 8 laughed with her statement though 3 didn't seem to catch that given her worried expression.

8 couldn't help but find it cute, 3 was a softie at heart and everyone knew it. It made 8 found of the girl... she assumed the butterflies thinking about them gave her was nothing though.

"I'll try it!" 4 reached out to grabbed the weapon from 8, her smile a mix of chaos and excitement.

"Careful! It's hea-....vy?." 8 was surprised when 4 easily held up the weapon with just one hand

"Eh a bit." Was all 4 said as she admired the thing, the tank inside taking ink from her own tank. It needed a full tank of ink to work. "I think it's full so stand back."

8 flushed seeing 4's pure confidence as the sound of mechanical whirling filled the air. The weapon audiblely pumped ink into the main firing mechanism and soon enough it was ready to fire.

4 let go of the trigger and a massive beam of yellow ink exploded from the barrel, a solid stream of destruction landing where ever she aimed, one that even popped the normally unpoppable balloons.

4 laughed as if this was the most fun she'd ever had. 8 watched on in admiration, why was this hot..? Must just be a random thought.... yeah totally.

Eventually the beam died down. 4 turned back around with a face of pure joy "That. Was. AWESOME!" 4 hugged 8 in appreciation, unaware of how the octoling instantly felt her whole face flush.

"N-No problem." 8 said trying and failing to keep her cool til 4 let go and then ranted about the amazing handling and all around great design, 8 felt lightheaded from the praise from a girl she looked up too.

Timidly 3 interrupted "Hey uh.. c-coukd I try, it looked fun..." 4 smiled brightly and handed 3 the weapon and made sure she was handling it right.

8 watched 4 instruct 3, her face still burning... maybe one day she could admit what they made her feel

#splatoon #agent 4 #agent 8 #agent 3 #agent 96 #lesbian #splatoon 2 #writing on tumblr #agent 32 #agent 12 #agent 24

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halucygeno · 1 year

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[Draft] Why Roadside Picnic is a timeless masterpiece and why everyone missed the point

(DRAFT NOTE: Otherside Picnic and PAFL are tagged because I intended to conclude this essay by explaining why I think those works, ostensibly inspired by R.P., don’t understand and fail to capture what makes the novel so powerful. My writing never got to that point, but it might still be of interest to fans of Otherside Picnic and PAFL, so I’ve kept the tags. If I ever manage to somehow finish this, I’ll take it down and replace it with the full version.)

ESSAY START:

With that needlessly provocative title out of the way, I hope people are still here and willing to listen as I try to explain myself:

[SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE BOOK, GO READ IT IF YOU HAVEN’T DONE SO YET]

At its very core, Roadside Picnic is a character study. It acts as philosophical and social commentary too, but a vast majority of that is delivered and explored through Redrick’s character arc.

The sci-fi stuff which everyone loves referencing, and which every adaptation and “inspired” work can’t help but include: the Zone, the artefacts, bolt tossing, Mosquito Manges - none of that matters. You could replace it with magic, or dragons, or some other arbitrary plot device - it just needs to be beyond human understanding and have no clear explanation or origin, to allow for the ideas discussed by Noonan and Dr. Pillman in Chapter 3. This basic premise is all you need to discuss xenology, human psychology, “what’s a rational being”, how insignificant we are in the universe, etc.

All the other details are either little tid-bits of worldbuilding, window-dressing, or serve a specific narrative purpose. Witches’ Jelly could be any “super dangerous substance”, because what matters is not that it eats your bones, what matters is that Redrick sells it to a shady dealer, betraying the morals he espoused in Chapter 1:

All of these objects aren’t just “cool artefacts”, they’re tools for the Strugatskys to get across their themes.

And those themes are... Well, that’s harder to summarise. The main theme of the story seems to be about how economic circumstances and crises in one’s personal life can rot a person’s moral compass and kill their faith in the possibility of a better world. The events of the story turn someone like Redrick - an honest worker who believes in Kirill’s promises that science has the potential to save humanity - into an evil hypocrite, a murderer who lies to himself to justify his reprehensible actions. The question asked of the audience is “how responsible is Redrick for his own fate”, while the ending asks “will any of it amount to anything”?

To be clear, Redrick is a BAD person. By the end of the book, he has quit his job at the Institute, sold Witches’ Jelly to shady 3rd parties (which ended in a laboratory accident that killed 35), cheated on his wife (with a woman he supposedly despises) and murdered an innocent kid. He even draws sadistic pleasure from the emotional pain he will inflict on Burbridge by killing his son, savouring the irony of Burbridge being the one who kept encouraging him to take some newbie to the Meat Grinder:

But he wasn’t always like this. At the start of the story, he is cynical and rough, but he has principles. Like already mentioned earlier, in the excerpt where Noonan tells him about someone looking to buy Witches’ Jelly, he even goes as far as saying that he’ll work with the police to turn them in. The same police which, earlier in the chapter, stopped him in the street because they profiled him and assumed he was up to something:

Redrick has done his time in prison, gotten an honest job (yes, I know that he says that he still makes "a few bucks on the side”, but he’s actually relieved when he hears they’ll be walling off the Zone because it’ll mean “less temptation”. He wants to make money as a decent citizen), and he’s still being treated like a criminal and stopped by the police on-sight. And despite this, his fear of what the wrong person might do with Witches’ Jelly is so strong, he’s willing to go to them and report the buyer.

And this rejection of his prior Stalker persona is deeper than just getting a job at the institute and being willing to cooperate with police. When Kirill assumes that Redrick suggested getting the Full Empty as a ploy to sell his services, at first, Redrick doesn’t understand what he means. When he does, he feels outright insulted:

When he finds out about Kirill’s death, he is devastated, but notably, this sorrow quickly turns into a hatred of the systems which throw young men to their deaths for money. He curses Ernest for profiting from this exploitation. A key scene is when he hands Creon (a young man who just arrived in Harmont and wants to become a Stalker) a wad of cash and urges him to go back to Malta:

Another pillar of Redrick’s character is the fact that he loves and is loyal to his fiancée, Guta, despite her family being openly antagonistic towards him - not just because of his criminal past, but the fact that he’s been afflicted by the Zone:

He marries her at some point after this.

Most importantly, he actually has a purpose. This is shown when he is pestered by the emigration agent, as he makes a speech about how Harmont is a “hole into the future”, which will change life around the world for the better:

The crucial detail here is that the one who inspired him to think this way is Kirill. Redrick is always portrayed as cynical and bitter, so this high-mindedness is not coming from somewhere within him - it’s external. He’s drawing inspiration from the idealistic, honest people around him. So when Kirill dies, it is not merely the death of a close friend. It is the death of Redrick’s faith, his hope in the future. He even says “How will I get on without you?”:

Basically, Chapter 1 sets-up Redrick AT HIS BEST, so that the story can send him on a downward spiral in every chapter that follows.

Chapter 2 has several important developments, and it marks the start of Redrick’s moral decline. Before getting into that, though, I’d like to draw attention to another part of Redrick’s moral compass which is highlighted - his hatred of Burbridge and, more importantly, his hatred of Burbridge’s daughter, Dina.

Buzzard Burbridge embodies the most reprehensible, slimy aspects of being a Stalker. He is a selfish profiteer, willing to sacrifice his comrades and leave them to die just so he can get away with the loot. Redrick hates Burbridge, and, very importantly, believes himself to be better than Burbridge:

Redrick hates that Burbridge has no regard for human life, and this hatred applies in equal measure to Dina. When Dina tells Redrick that he should have left Buzzard to his death, he slaps her in the face:

This is not done out of sympathy for the man - Redrick hates Burbridge. What insults him is the implication that he should’ve left a comrade to their death - even a piece of sh*t comrade. He hates Dina, because even though what she says about Buzzard is true, it’s not a reason to abandon him to his death. Just like her father, she has no regard for human life.

In this scene, it’s also worth noting that Redrick is very respectful to Hamster. Hamster is the only Stalker to survive entering the Meat Grinder, supposedly saved by Buzzard. He seems to hang around the Burbridge household, possibly acting as some kind of servant, but is deformed and crippled from his injury:

The contrast between how he speaks to Dina and Hamster sends a clear message; Dina’s beauty means nothing. She’s evil, and deserves less respect than ugly, deformed Hamster.

Another key moment is Redrick’s conversation with Noonan in the café near the Métropole hotel. There, we learn why he quit working for the institute; money. He could no longer earn bonuses when expeditions to the Zone began being handled by robots:

Important here is that his salary still isn’t terrible, and the institute did not fire him. He chose to quit, because he wants a sense of freedom, of not being bossed around, and the money to splurge on things (like cigarettes) and have peace of mind. This is aptly summarised in the line “a man needs money so that he doesn't have to always be counting it”.

Obviously, another reason why he quit is Kirill’s death. In his final, rambling monologue, Redrick admits that he hated working for the Institute, so it’s very likely that Kirill and his idealistic visions for the future were the only things keeping him there.

So, to summarise, at this stage, Redrick’s character looks more or less like this: 1) Wants to do honest work and disassociate from his criminal past. 2) Believes the world can be saved by technology from the Zone. 3) Will never sell Witches’ Jelly to dangerous 3rd parties. 4) Needs money for a basic standard of comfort and freedom from authority. 5) Won’t abandon someone to their death, even someone as bad as Buzzard. 6) Beauty doesn’t matter if, morally, you’re an awful person. 7) Loyal to his wife and daughter.

Having lost Kirill, and with him, his hope for a better future, Redrick’s new source of meaning is his wife and daughter. His purpose in life is providing for them, especially Monkey, whose condition makes her the target of bullying.

(Side note: One thing always annoyed me. Why did they call her Monkey?! That’s asking for people to bully your kid! Was it just a coincidence, or did they really name her after her birth defect? And this is an accurate translation of the Russian “Мартышка”, no weird translation problems here.)

But this new purpose - providing for his family - crashes into him hard when he’s set-up, betrayed, caught by the police, and is forced to flee. It’s then revealed that Redrick had a trump-card up his sleeve - a jar of Witches’ Jelly and an interested buyer, willing to pay the money to his wife in instalments while he rots in prison. It’s never stated how long his prison sentence is, but Redrick estimates that evading arrest (which he did to arrange the transaction) will add another year to it.

To be clear, this jar was prepared as a last resort. He clearly doesn’t want to do this. Earlier, in the Métropole, when he's asked if he managed to procure it, he lies, saying that he didn’t:

He promises to get it later, keeping Throaty interested, but not giving it to him. Later, as he’s about to make the call, he admonishes himself:

This the first major step in Redrick’s decline, where his self-interest explicitly endangers the lives of others, and he still picks himself over others.

Before moving into Chapter 3, one part which I’d like to quickly touch on is the circumstances of Redrick’s arrest. I didn’t pick up on this on my first read, but Ernest wasn’t the one who set-up the police ambush in the Borscht. The one who set up Redrick’s arrest was Richard Noonan:

At first, I was confused as to why Redrick never realised that Noonan betrayed him, but after looking at it more closely, and despite how stupid it may sound, I genuinely think Redrick was so sleep-deprived that he forgot Noonan was the one who told him to drive to the Borscht in the first place. After getting into the cab, he falls asleep and wakes up, incorrectly thinking he told the driver to take him to the bank:

Regardless, in Chapter 3, we learn that Richard Noonan is some sort of government agent, working for the Institute or with law enforcement in some capacity. His mission is to shut down the “flow of materials from the Zone through Harmont”, which is why he has been befriending Stalkers and infiltrating their social circles, monitoring them. His activities include buying artefacts from Stalkers and rerouting them to the Institute:

If you’ve been paying attention, the Stalker which Noonan mentions in the above excerpt, the one he is stringing along and exploiting for his swag, is Creon, the Maltese Stalker which Redrick tried to pay to give up on the profession and go back home in Chapter 1. He persevered, became a successful, and what did it get him? He’s not an adventurer - he’s a pawn, drowning his sorrows in booze, getting closer to death, unaware that he’s being exploited by Noonan.

The worst part of this, which is never said explicitly, but heavily implied, is that the Institute is allowing certain Stalkers to operate because real humans are better, more effective gatherers of artefacts then their officially sanctioned robots. They are supposedly cracking down on this illegal activity, but they don’t mind taking advantage of it while they can:

There’s a sickening duality to it. Officially, Stalkers are criminalised, thrown in jail, ostracised. But behind the scenes, the Institute relies on them to deliver them materials, strings them along and keeps them on their payroll.

(Side note: I’ll let you draw whatever real-life parallels you find applicable. The ones that immediately come to my mind are the US prison-industrial complex and the funding of the the Taliban, but I’m sure you can find many, many more.)

Later, we generally get to see Richard Noonan being a horrid person - beating up a subordinate for having overlooked a group of Stalkers who were sneaking into the Zone without the Institute’s awareness.

Following this, Noonan has his conversation with Valentine Pillman, where the analogy of a “roadside picnic” is used and where the book derives its title. The general message is that we’re completely insignificant. The visitation wasn’t an instance of aliens coming to contact us or conquer us - they were just passing by and accidentally dropped a bunch of their trash on us.

Of course, Pillman qualifies this by saying that this is just his personal theory, and that there is no evidence to support this, or any other interpretation. He points out that to speculate about the motives of non-human beings by applying human psychology to them is folly, and calls xenology a pseudoscience.

For how central this conversation seems to be to the book (it’s in the title, after all), I don’t actually think that it’s a particularly interesting concept. It speaks to a general existential dread many people can probably relate to, being insignificant in the face of the infinitely complex, incomprehensible mechanisms of the cosmos. But it seems quite simple and self-contained, especially compared to the layered, interconnected themes of the rest of the book. It’s quaint.

Much more interesting to me are the things we find out about the artefacts recovered from the Zone. Eternal Batteries, seemingly capable of producing infinite energy, are used to power people’s private cars. Black Sprays, little beads which one theory claims are huge swathes of compressed space, are used to decorate jewelry:

To be blunt, Kirill was wrong. The artefacts from the Zone and the research done by the Institute are not “saving the world”. They’re accomplishing almost nothing. At best, they become the playthings of the wealthy and powerful, while the working class is literally killing themselves in the Zone to acquire them. At worst, they’re causing horrible accidents and killing people, like the Currigan labs incident:

The point of this is to show that fancy new technology does not inherently uproot old systems of injustice and exploitation. Without societal change, even something as reality-shattering as an alien invasion will be slotted into the old way of things. There’s even a passing mention of more luxury accommodations being built in Harmont in response to... tourists:

I saw another Tumblr post tagged with #roadside picnic, complaining about how people are trying too hard to make every soviet novel into something political. Well, I’m sorry. IT IS POLITICAL. You’re just not paying attention. If you disagree, I challenge you to read the above passage about “the suburbs being emptied” and tell me that it’s not trying to communicate anything about the economical systems ruling Harmont.

And if I need to spell it out, the force consuming and destroying the lives of Stalkers is not “the Zone”. It’s capitalism. The characters constantly talk about greenbacks, about needing money. The reason Stalkers need to break the law and risk their lives is either because they have rent to pay, or because they want to become financially stable enough to be free from the coercion of bosses and landlords.

The entire reason Redrick betrays his moral convictions in Chapter 2 is because of money. He leaves the Institute because his job is being automated, his pay is being cut, and he doesn’t want to live paycheck to paycheck. He wants to be free. And finally, he sells the Witches’ Jelly because he has to keep his family fed while he’s stuck in jail.

And if you still think I’m just reading too much into things, seeing what I want to see, I’d like to take you back to Chapter 2 for a few notable passages. Namely, Redrick’s experiences as he is entering the luxury hotel, Métropole:

This is Redrick, talking to a cop. Yes, the police, so eager to harass him in Chapter 1, are suddenly asking him if he’s alright, offering to help, calling him “mister”. So what changed?

Well, he is wearing a suit, holding a suitcase, standing in front of a fancy hotel. They assumed he’s rich. That he’s a respectable citizen, that he’d never need to steal anything.

There’s a genius reversal here - in Chapter 1, Redrick was an honest lab worker, but was profiled and stopped by the police. In Chapter 2, while the cop is trying to help him, he’s on his way to an illegal deal with a suitcase full of contraband. He’s an actual criminal, but he’s treated with kindness, because he looks upper-class.

And if you still somehow think this is all a coincidence, I ask you - why is this scene here? Why was it written? Seriously, it’s such a random moment, a complete non-sequiteur from everything happening beforehand, and I never hear anyone talk about it. Redrick, out of nowhere, begins having strong hallucinations and has to stop to catch his breath. If the key information being conveyed here is “Redrick suffers from hallucinations”, why not just have him catch his breath and move on? Why add this random cop, trying so hard to be helpful?

The answer is simple. It’s not a “random cop”. It’s social commentary on how cops exist to protect and serve the ruling class.

In the hotel itself, we have this moment where Redrick steps into an elevator full of absurdly, comically obnoxious rich people:

If you’ve been ignoring the attached excerpts so far, I urge you to read this one. I cannot adequately summarise how seeping with contempt and revulsion these descriptions are. Redrick closes his eyes to try to “shut out” these people, to not have to look at them. The young boy is eating chocolate, of course, drooling, while his mother has the Black Sprays we talked about earlier on her necklace. This is the privileged, wealthy elite and Redrick HATES them and what they represent. It’s textbook class antagonism.

And this doesn’t just affect Redrick. Returning to Chapter 3, Noonan visits Redrick’s house and speaks to Guta, who tells him about their struggles with Monkey, whose condition had worsened, destroying most of her cognitive abilities:

Noonan is wealthy. He’s one of the people who uses a car powered by an Eternal Battery. He lives in hotels. But more importantly:

Noonan genuinely sympathises with Redrick and Guta’s plight, and the suffering they’re going through because of Monkey’s condition. He genuinely wants to help them, and is ready to, but then remembers his boss. He remembers that his job is not to help the ones who are struggling and need it the most, but to serve the system. To label these people criminals and “infiltrate” them, monitor them, instead of simply befriending them.

Of course, Richard Noonan is an awful person. But we're almost given the sense that, given his position, he doesn’t even have an opportunity to be a good, honest person. When he genuinely feels sympathy for those he exploits, he forces himself to stop and suppresses his good nature. Because that’s what’s expected of him, what his job requires. He’s there to protect the interests of the Institute - the ruling class.

I really hope these examples adequately demonstrate what I believe to be the main political themes of the story, because I’m going to put those aside for a moment and go back to the personal, moral journey of the main character.

The only thing of note left in Chapter 3 is Redrick’s father and his reaction to news of the lab accident.

[UNIFNISHED DRAFT ENDS HERE]

(TRANSLATION NOTE: All quotations are taken from the Antonina W. Bouis translation, despite there being an arguably more accurate translation by Olena Bormashenko. This is out of habit, not preference - I’m more familiar with the Bouis translation, which made searching for quotes easier.)

(Huge thanks to Antonina W. Bouis and later Olena Bormashenko for bringing this book to an anglophone audience, to Irena Lewandowska and Rafał Dębski for translating it to Polish, and to Siergiej Rajkov and Milan Asadurov for doing the same in Bulgarian.)

#roadside picnic #stalker #otherside picnic #parties are for losers #book analysis #strugatsky brothers #My writing

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tavyliasin · 3 months

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ATG Side Story - Villain? Saviour.

Pairing: Tav/Raphael SPICE Rating: 4/5 Content Warnings: Sex, hurt/comfort, minor peril, injury detail, some medical treatment (non-sexual context), willpower bondage (mild)

Spoilers Act 3 House of Hope, Steel Watch Canon Compliance Barely. There's an element of the canon in how the Steel Watch are dealt with, but that's about it. Other Notes This one might well end up moved into proper ATG continuity at a later date I'm just not sure when. I was inspired to write some soft Raphael so that's exactly what I did, imagining exactly the kind of scenario that might force the devil to show some care, because all nine hells know he's not doing that by choice.

Mood/Song Firedancer by Poets of the Fall "Sage advice or sensory overload Whatever the pressure However your pleasure holds you captive to the treasure No matter how the earth reverberates You're dancing with the greats With the fools and their fates For time, it never waits. (Crash the gates) Firedancer, flame of life (What remains) Is a gamble, fall or fly (Play your ace) and remember there's a why You should always question the answer."

----- FULL CHAPTER BELOW THE CUT -----

The building had already begun to shake. Oil slicked the floor and broken machine parts made an obstacle course of their escape. Of course there had been not a second to spare to try and clear a sensible path, and several times curses were muttered as feet skidded in bloodied mess, boots desperate to find purchase on metal and stone to propel them as far away from the impending explosion as possible. The Steel Watch were about to fall, the Gondians all but safe, save for one. Tav stopped, putting her arm around the injured man to help get him to safety, but she had fallen behind. The others were still sprinting ahead as she summoned every bit of strength in her body to carry him and get them out. The doors were wide open onto sunlit streets, where hundreds cowered in the shadow of brutal machines. Perhaps some could be saved, maybe they weren’t too late- “KARLACH!” Tav yelled, using the last of her adrenaline to bodily hurl the injured gnome towards her, trusting the tiefling to catch him. Unfortunately, her boots were still coated in gore and lubricant. While the Gondian flew to apparent safety, Tav fell forwards, landing hard. The next second, the bomb went off. The ground shook and the Foundry went up in a huge explosion. The amount of incendiary within the building was more than enough to send the masonry flying. Tav’s ears rang, barely able to hear the sound of her friends crying out, her lovers reaching towards her with fear on their faces seeing it was already too late. She felt the door itself, half splintered but still heavy enough to break bone, crash into her hip. Wood pierced her skin, the impact shattering her thigh. White hot pain coursed through her entire body, more stone hitting her, the smell of burning and explosive and…sulphur? She barely held on to the edge of her consciousness, vision blurry, as she saw something… someone , appear before her in a brief flash of light. Then everything went dark. — Raphael paced the room back and forth restlessly. Occasionally his hand raked through his usually perfect hair, other times it tapped against his chin in the brief moments he stopped walking. No, not now. How utterly ridiculous a notion. Far too much planning- His mind raced, emotions that were little understood fighting for dominance in his consciousness. “That vicious little shit.” He voiced his complaints aloud at last, earning a slight huff from his slightly-too-perfect mirror on the bed. “I told you he would be trouble when you let him go,” Haarlep couldn’t resist pointing out the harsh truth, “but you insisted.”

“It was meant to play out perfectly. All he had to do was get the crown, then I could wrest it from his grimy little fingers, and the Hells would be MINE. There was no chance that I could steal it from the vault myself, bastard would’ve sensed me a mile away. But a former cobbler’s son bound in service? He’d pay no mind to that.” Raphael stopped. This wasn’t the issue at hand. “How is it that he built such ridiculous machines? And why did she feel the need to play hero?” “Oh I think you well know the answer to that one, Archduke.” The insulting nickname stung far sharper this time, that same pawn that could have crowned himself King took the very title that Raphael coveted for so long. “You’ve said it yourself before. She’s unpredictable .” “She’s a liability, Harlot.” Raphael shot back with a weaker venom. “How can something so fragile hold the key to everything we need- everything I need.” He corrected himself. “Why don’t you stop your complaining and check on her already?” Haarlep sighed, tired of hearing the same conversation repeat on a loop. It had been hours already and the fool still had no clue why he fretted so much over a simple rodent. “Fine.” The cambion huffed, smoothing down his hair and checking his reflection. The healing waters in his room could only do so much, they would not treat a more severe or lasting injury, and he had little trust in the ridiculous concoctions of mortal mages. It had taken an embarrassing amount of strings pulled and favours called, quite a few pawns he’d held in reserve were used up to make the arrangement so swiftly. But they were the best healer in the city, and he would have no less for his most important client.

— Tav groaned. Despite all the potions and balms, having multiple chunks of wood and masonry pulled from your muscle was never going to be a pleasant experience. Every time she thought the pain might make her pass out, it kept her vividly conscious. The older elf passed her another small potion, keeping her constitution temporarily stronger to help the healing. “Quite the predicament you ended up in, Little Mouse. Taking the cheese from within the trap and getting your tail caught? I thought you were smarter than that.” His words carried condescension, but the tone and the glimpse of the wrinkles on his brow spoke of concern, only lightly tinged with disappointment. “Luckily, it seems the cat came to the rescue just in time.” She smiled, teasing a little, but genuinely grateful. Gratitude, it seemed, was not something he knew how to handle. Not the sincere kind, anyway. Tav reasoned his discomfort must be because he was expecting something. “There’s a price to pay for your help, isn’t there?” She shrugged. “No need to explain, I know how the world works, Raphael, especially with demons and deals. But if you want my eternal servitude, I’m afraid you should’ve left me to a quicker burial back there.”

“What?” He sounded genuinely taken aback, offended perhaps by the suggestion, or by the implication the moment he denied it. “If I wanted your servitude, the contract and pen would be in your hand already. No, that achieves nothing.” He pulled up a chair taking a seat beside where she lay face down, devoid of most dignity as the cleric yanked another large chunk of mahogany from her rear. “FUCK could you at least warn me a little next time?” The elf shrugged. “The pain would be no different either way. Kinder if you don’t know it’s coming, really.” They pulled another piece midway through the sentence as if to prove a point. “Are you almost finished?” Raphael hissed a little too impatiently, brown eyes flicking across Tav’s face briefly again as she winced in pain. He should be used to people suffering, he was certainly good enough at arranging it, but there was something in the way his face twitched, as if his expressions were beginning to slip. “Not much left. Only half a door in her, not a whole one, and the bones will need longer to set.” They gestured to the splint and bandages down Tav’s leg and on one of her wrists. “Only a few days, especially if you use everything you have at your disposal, but the bone still needs to knit together properly or her dreams of joining the circus will be completely gone.” “The circus?” The cambion looked at her, perplexed.

“In my defence, those potions are really strong. And so is the pain. I was barely conscious.” She shrugged. “Besides, I used to enjoy Dribbles performing when I was young. Who didn’t?” She tried to push aside the memory of the clown’s dismembered body parts they kept finding in the city. That could wait. “Little Mouse, you’re not a performer. Even if you do like to dance with danger for no reason.” He sighed, almost reaching out to her but stopping short, putting his hand instead on the edge of the table and standing up. “The damage shouldn’t be permanent. But you will be staying here for the duration of your recovery.” “Excuse me?” She tried to raise herself up more on her arms to see his face where he stood above her, but shuddered as the pain pulled at the nerves in her shoulder. “Stop trying so hard, Little Mouse, you are quite safe. I will not have any further harm come to my favourite client.” He gently pressed her shoulder back down, hand remaining there for far longer than either of them expected. “Ah. There it is. Client. You still have use for me, that’s why you’re going so far for my sake.” She hadn’t expected anything more, but it stung nonetheless. Raphael faltered, the warmth of his fingers still refusing to leave her. “You are not just any client, Mouse. I have told you before, I have no desire to turn you into just some pitiful debtor, nor do I wish to chain you to any contract beyond what I offered before.” He continued to justify his actions, denying his motivations to himself as much as to anyone else. “You and your friends are uniquely positioned to get what I want, and I can provide you with the means to keep your lovely face tentacle free.” Lovely? She turned the word over in her mind. No, another trick to loosen her grip on her sanity and make her sign. She hadn’t decided yet...and they had time still. She was certain that if it came down to it, she could make that deal at the very last possible moment, if she had to. Although, that would give him a lot more power… Tav groaned. Why is nothing ever simple, and why do I have to be the one to decide all of this? And why is he still being so nice? It’s easier when it’s just unhinged sex, or the usual mind games, the back and forth of Cat and Mouse…

“Get some rest, Little Mouse. You will need it. Our foes will not wait forever.” The cambion’s hand caressed her hair gently, a move that surprised them both again. He withdrew, as if he had touched the very edge of a hot stove. Although, who had ever heard of a devil getting burned? —

Haarlep smiled far too sweetly as the master of the house re-entered the room. “Well?” “Well what?” Raphael snapped. “Was she pleased to see you? Were you pleased to see your precious Little Mouse?” They smirked, tail swishing mischievously behind them. “Shut up, Harlot.” He paused, glancing back at the door. “...She’s fine. Injured, but fine.” He glared back at the incubus, fire rising behind brown eyes. “And you are not to lay a single infernal finger on her without my approval.” Haarlep stood, taking languid steps towards their conflicted master. “This room, the rules are mine.” Their voice was on the edge of a snarl, the hint of threat creeping in. “But as long as she does not enter, there will be no cause for you to worry about losing your favourite little toy to me.” Raphael laughed. “Really? You think you are all she could desire? That sex alone is enough to satisfy a sharp mind and a sharper wit?” The incubus glared back, the heat from their body rising to a palpable level even within Avernus. “And you assume that you are enough that she would turn down my offer? You shouldn’t be so greedy, Raphael, someone might get the impression that you actually care.” “Don’t be absurd.” The cambion spat, ignoring even that his name had been spoken so easily. Haarlep smirked. The test proved it. He was completely distracted, but that was also an insult in itself. “I’m not the one losing his cool over a wounded rodent.” “I’ve lost nothing but time. She’s a tool, and a broken hammer can hardly forge my crown.” He lied, fooling nobody but himself, and even that deception was on shaky ground. “But time we shall have… If anyone in this house so much as-” “Yes, yes, fire and brimstone, every dreadful torture you can think of~” They smirked again, clawed fingers gripping his chin as blazing eyes gave their challenge. “How about we work out some of that tension, Archduke, before you set something aflame.” For a moment, Raphael faltered. Their breath hot against his lips, the enticing thought of everything they could do- “No.” He pulled their hand away from his face, turning to walk away. “I have work to do. If that brat thinks he will get away with this…”

Haarlep watched him walk away, unsure whether the feeling stirring within them was frustration, jealousy, or perhaps they were simple impressed that their Rat was slowly taking everything she wanted so easily. They wondered if she even knew what she wanted, the kind of fire she was playing with… It didn’t matter. One way or another they would get what they wanted, too.

--- Tav rolled over, mumbling in her sleep again, hair clinging to the thin sheen of sweat on her forehead. Unfortunately, the movement caught the splint on her leg in the sheets, pulling it at just the wrong angle and waking her with a hiss of pain. It took a moment to get her bearings again. These soft silks were a far cry from the rough blankets of the Elfsong, or the worn bedrolls they’d used camping rough across the Sword Coast. The heat and slight reddened hue of the surroundings reminded her where she was. Avernus. The House of Hope. The pieces of reality slid back into place one by one, the puzzle making sense for the most part. Other than the image of Raphael’s human form, sat at a small desk to one side, shuffling through papers and marking them with a quill. Strange, she thought as she peered over at him, surely this isn’t his usual office? “Good morning, Little Mouse.” Raphael didn’t even look up, simply adjusting the small glasses balanced on his nose as he continued to mark and sign the parchment. “Rest well?” “I…about as well as possible, I guess.” Tav rubbed the remnants of sleep from dry eyes, feeling her parched lips on the verge of splitting. “There’s water next to you.” Again, without so much as a glance in her direction, but he seemed to know exactly what she needed. “Thanks, Raphael.” She reached over and filled the glass from the condensation-coated jug, the slight clink of ice promising a more refreshing drink than expected. She wondered for a moment how often the ice was being remade for her benefit, but chose to pay it no mind. Questioning these comforts might lead them to end, after all. “Gratitude, is it now?” Finally, he looked up over the rims of his glasses. “Not looking the gift horse in the mouth?” “Well you made it clear last time, I know where I stand- Where I lay.” She corrected herself, allowing herself a slight smile as she took another sip of cold water. “Anything interesting?” She nodded at the stack of papers. “Only boring contracts, Mouse, there is still so much to do.” He moved from one to the next, frowning and rubbing his brow. “If you really wish to be bored back to sleep, I can read them to you.” “Why don’t you take a break? I’ve slept enough for one day, I think.” Tav moved herself carefully over to the side, smoothing down the covers to make a seat. “I suppose I could indulge you for a moment, if you insist.” He laid his glasses on the stack of papers, sauntering across the room with the scent of his usual perfumes arriving a few steps ahead.

Warm, sweet, spiced… Tav quietly savoured the strange and familiar comfort that it brought, as he sat beside her, reaching towards her still bandaged arm. “It’s doing better.” She reassured him, but he gave her a pointed look instead. “I will be the judge of that, Little Mouse.” He took hold of her wrist, but removed the dressing with a surprising amount of gentle care. “Better indeed. Move it.” The command was simple, and hardly unexpected, but it was delivered with a cold bedside manner that stung. “Ah!” She winced as she flexed the joint. “Fuck…” “Don’t be absurd, you mustn’t shy away from such a small pain.” Despite his words, he wrapped his hands around the joint, applying a little soft heat from his palms and rubbing soothingly. “You think that any of your foes will let you falter? Keep it moving. The bones are set, but you mustn’t lose motion or strength.” “Well I’m not fighting right now…” She grumbled, but gradually moved it further, pushing the limits of the motion as the warmth of his hands sank deeper into the bones. She began to feel a hint of a different heat from his touch, from how close he was… She bit it back. Not the time, don’t even think of how he’s next to you in bed while you’re only wearing a nightgown.

—

Raphael held longer than was necessary, eyes lingering on the scars that were still fresh along her forearm. “Another potion. It will do no harm, and speed your recovery further. Then we will check on your leg.” His bedside manner still lacked the soft care of an experienced nurse, but by the standards of a fiend it was positively overbearing with affection. He grimaced internally. He was slipping. But no, it was all a part of the manipulation, to ensure his knight - no, his pawn - continued to play her role well. The consideration of how a pawn can become a Queen should it reach the other side of the board completely escaped his notice too. “This one.” He handed Tav the glass bottle, pulling out the stopper to save her the hassle of using her wrist. “It isn’t poisonous then?” Her voice was playful, but she barely even took a moment to sniff or examine the potion before drinking it in one go. “Well, if it is, then it’s the nicest flavour of poison I’ve had in a while.” “Do you make it a habit to drink toxic substances?” His eyebrow raised, but he relaxed more as he saw the relief wash over her face with the effects of the brew. “Only the fun ones.” She laughed now, the soft music strange to his ears, but not distasteful. Perhaps he might like to hear more- No. Focus. He chided himself. What foolish thoughts… “I wouldn’t recommend it, Little Mouse, you are not immortal.” Yet, his subconscious whispered, even as his conscious mind threatened to silence the thought for good. “Now. Your leg. The splint can likely come off now.” Business was easier, he decided, though he hadn’t entirely thought it through. “Right… Well I suppose you’ve seen everything before.” Despite her bravado, a light blush began to appear on Tav’s cheeks as she lifted back the covers and moved to sit atop them. The nightdress reached to just below her knees, though the splint on her leg went from her shin to the middle of her thigh. Raphael swallowed, his mouth feeling excessively dry. He cursed Haarlep under his breath, swearing the bitch must be up to something with the way he felt as he pushed the fabric up to reveal her still-healing wounds. “I will apply some pressure, you must tell me immediately if there is any pain. If the healer has not done proper duties, I shall have them flayed.”

—

“That’s a bit excessive.” She frowned a little, but didn’t really judge him. Expecting a fiend to be kind was more than foolish, his very nature would not allow it. And yet… Tav winced, the bandage holding the splints in place unwinding slowly. She felt the warmth of his fingers every time they touched her skin, trying in vain not to think about how low he was, how close to her body, how they were already on a bed… “Fuck-” She bit her lip, the pressure on the side of her knee still too much. “Then you will still be unable to bear weight…” Raphael idly rubbed his chin in thought. “A balm, perhaps? Something more direct. Wait here.” Tav watched as he stood and left the room, a swiftness in his step as he went. Is he always in such a hurry? Her pondering was disrupted by a fresh shot of agony as she tried to bend her leg. Right, right…probably better that he’s quicker. I won’t complain. And yet…the space next to her felt like a cold void, now the cambion’s weight was not pressing a divot into the mattress. Only a lingering hint of his scent remained, and the slight heat upon the sheets. A sigh escaped her, there was a quiet need lingering in the back of her mind, compounded by the sudden longing from being left alone. She wondered if she might ever understand him. His intentions, his motivations… Every time she thought she knew what he was doing, what he wanted, everything changed again. Haarlep clearly wasn’t helping either. She wondered if they might be around, if perhaps they would be willing to keep her company when Raphael became inevitably busy once more. If anyone knew what was going through the devil’s mind, it would be them. Her hand rested on the remnants of the warmth where he had been sat, eyes not leaving the door until it opened again. —

Raphael’s feet carried him swiftly down hallways until he reached the cupboards he needed. It was pointless to waste energy on teleporting himself, but still he felt the need to hurry. If the incubus had tainted the potion… He would return to resolve that little problem before it could go further. He blinked away the image of her blushing body dressed in dark satin laying on the bed, and checked the labels of each jar carefully. The waters of the bathing pool could help, but if her leg could not take her weight… Carrying her was not an option, she deserved her dignit- He deserved his dignity to not have to act like a servant to her whims. His brow creased with frustration. Thoughts like unwelcome guests finding themselves swiftly evicted, yet returning through a back door before he could turn the key in the lock. This is all the harlot again, he reasoned, they have poisoned her and continue to toy with me without permission. He grumbled, turning quickly on his heel to go back to the room where she was waiting, laying on the bed- I’m going to make them regret this. — Meanwhile, in the boudoir, a completely serene Haarlep was reclined on the bed simply reading a book. They turned the page, wondering what adventures the struggling heroes might find in the next paragraphs. They had absolutely no intention of interfering with whatever nonsense Raphael was engaging in, nor of playing with their favourite toy until she was healed. They knew better than that, they could be patient. Besides, they considered their complete lack of engagement to be a fitting punishment for the scorn of being turned down by their “Master”. Ridiculous thought, that he would brush aside the advances of an incubus, refuse the touch that could have him whining in pleasure for hours on end. No matter. They turned the next page, stubbornly ignoring the tell-tale footsteps in the corridor passing by their door without so much as a “hello”. They’ll both be back, in time. They hummed a little tune to themselves, pointedly rejecting any further thoughts of the room down the hallway.

---

The heavy door swung open swiftly on creaking hinges, closing just as quickly behind Raphael as he moved towards the bed. She was laying where he left her, cheeks flush, lips slightly parted, hair still in disarray from sleep. Even the gown remained pushed up to her upper thigh, revealing her legs, the remnants of technicolour bruising beneath her pale skin.

Tav was an invitation like this, one he was loathe to accept for now…but clearly she could not be left unsated. Incubus saliva could be unbearable without a resolution to that painful arousal. It might even slow her recovery, which he would not allow. The cambion approached the bedside, already removing the lid from the salve’s jar. He sat lower down beside her, body turned to face her. “Your permission, Mouse, I would like to hear it.” “O-oh.” She stuttered for a moment, the tips of her pointed ears beginning to match the redness in her cheeks. “Of course. Do what you need to do, I trust you.” His brow furrowed at those last three words. Of course that’s what he wanted, her trust, he was not in a habit of lying least of all to his favourite client. But hearing it? That was different. “Should you wish me to stop, you need only say the word. You understand?” —

It was Tav’s turn to frown now. What was there to understand? It was a simple healing balm, nothing she hadn’t used before. She could easily apply it herself, but she was also loathe to argue with Raphael when he looked this serious. What she was not hearing, however, was the undercurrent to his words. She didn’t see the way his eyes travelled her body, gauging her reaction as he began to massage the balm over her wounds. Not a drop of incubus saliva had passed her lips, by potion or otherwise, so she was blissfully oblivious to the cambion’s present concerns. Though, decidedly, the feel of his hands moving further up her leg had a very similar effect.

Feeling the soothing effects of the salve sinking in to her wounds brought a soft sigh from within her, the deeper massage of tender fingers colouring the sound with the hint of a moan. Seeing his eyes flash with a momentary flame was certainly not helping. It would be hard to deny her own desire either, the thoughts that had passed through her mind in the few minutes he had been gone… Of course, some of those were remarkably close to the sight of brown hair descending towards her thighs- —

Raphael could feel her melting beneath his hands, and his clothing felt tighter by the moment. He imagined the ghost of Haarlep’s fingers, gripping, teasing… He cursed their name under his breath, completely unaware that this was all entirely in his own mind. As was the concern that the potion had been tainted, though it was quite obvious that Tav was feeling as aroused as him. Her skin tinted pink, warming more as he allowed his hands to wander, lowered his head towards her shin, lifted her leg and kissed below her knee. “Does it hurt here?” She had gasped, but the noise was not one of discomfort, as she quickly confirmed. “N- no, it’s fine.” Next he lifted her leg slowly, kissing around and under the joint now, right where her thigh began. “Here?” Her head laid back on the pillows. “No pain…”

“Good, Little Mouse. Then let me continue, if I may?” “Please-” Her voice was little more than a gasp, the heat rising from her body in a way that he could feel as he moved further up. It was becoming more difficult to hold back. The cambion could almost taste her on the air already, the heady scent of arousal mingling with her usual perfume and the thicker scent of the salve that still lingered on his hands. He laid her leg back down on the sheets, moving now on to his hands and knees after a quick gesture transported his boots over to the side of the room. But he could not afford to be greedy, rough… He must protect his asset. A means to an end. A very attractive means, dark hair splayed across the pillows, breasts straining the fabric just slightly as her breath quickened, deepened, chest rising and falling with increasing anticipation… —

Tav felt the silk slip easily across her skin, shivering slightly though not from any chill. Raphael was…not how she remembered. The times they’d been together before now were hot, feverish, filled with a sense of desperate urgency that made pulse soar and her head light. This…was almost a different man. Though at the same time, not at all. The same chestnut hair neatly swept back, the same scents of cherry, black pepper, palmarosa…a strong and spiced mix that didn’t lack sweetness. The same intense look in his eyes, as if a fire burned silently behind his pupils even in this human form. The cambion was being careful. That was obvious. And a part of her wished he wouldn’t, that instead of sliding her nightdress up slowly, heated fingers brushing lightly against her skin, that he would rip it from her, or burn it up with a wave of magic from his hands. Most of all, she simply, silently, desperately pleaded for him not to stop. He did not. Wordlessly he curled a finger around her underwear, the smallest flame burning away the seam so the garment could be removed without needing to pass sore joints and bruised muscles. Soft eyes looked up at her again, a question in a single raised brow, one she answered with a simple motion to pull her nightdress further up her body to reveal her waist fully. Raphael smiled, looking pleased with her response, before dipping his head lower to kiss along her stomach, lips pressing on her soft body with delicate affection. Tav bit down on her lip as those same hands began to tease her. This was a different game to him, she realised, as he merely stroked his fingertips with the lightest pressure. It might have felt ticklish, but it built the heat and tension within her, muscles tightening in anticipation. —

Raphael could feel her arousal easily. His fingers already slick and hot, her body shivering beneath his lips as he continued to kiss softly along her waist. Maybe he might’ve preferred her quivering with fear beneath him, perhaps a shot of liquor in her naval, savouring the mixture of terror and arousal he could raise within her… But she was not scared. Neither was she courageous. She was simply accepting of his touch, inviting more with the sweet little moans from her lips, telling him without words that she wanted more, needed more, by pressing her body towards him every time he tried to move away. “So greedy, Little Mouse, and I thought you were supposed to be recovering your strength?” He raised his eyebrow, peering up once more at her face and trying to work out exactly what it was he was seeing. Prey? A pawn? …a lover? Ha! Ridiculous. But she plays the part well… So if it is theatre she wants, then the show must go on. “I have enough strength-” she replied, or at least tried to when her voice was cut short with a gasp. Raphael smiled, it had only taken a single finger to steal her words from that pretty little throat. The second brought a prettier sound, barely a syllable drawn out in a prolonged moan. “You were saying?” His smile widened. Had it always been so easy to bring out the desire in her? Or was this just the potion, and Haarlep’s influence… His ego bristled. It wasn’t Haarlep here now, curling fingers inside her, feeling her muscles tighten and quiver every time his lips pressed to her body. This was no incubus sweetening the noise lingering in the air with slow thrusts in and out, the mere mimicry of what he could offer later… “Please-” She gasped above him, the sound of desperation only adding to his own arousal. “Please, more…” Turning the offer down was unthinkable. It might’ve been better had she begged for something else, but his own lust was thrumming through the pulse in his eardrums, and he had his pride of course. What kind of devil couldn’t even satisfy one mere mortal? Naturally, it would always be harder to satisfy Haarlep, the bitch was practically made for sex and pleasure, but Tav…her body was easier to manipulate, seeing her melt into his hands was simple. Besides, wasn’t her first encounter with Haarlep in the hopes it was him all along?... —

Tav hadn’t expected to be doted on, far less to have the devil himself kissing soft lines along the ridge of her hip towards where his fingers were already working her into a frenzy. She bit her lip, trying in vain to steady her breath, but already losing herself to the sensations before his tongue flickered across her nerves. “Fuck-” She hissed out a single word as her head pressed back into the pillows, gripping the sheets as he increased the intensity of his motions. His tongue moved in the shape of infernal runes, drawing out a false contract of her pleasure, pulling every sane thought from her head and replacing it with a white hot rush that coursed through her veins. As she tipped over the edge of pleasure’s precipice, her moan was tainted by a cry of pain as her shaking body twisted her still-healing joints. The cambion’s free hand moved to hold her still as he continued to draw out the stimulation, dragging out the afterglow relentlessly, though ensuring the warmth on his palm was soothing the pain. By the time she was able to breathe more evenly, she realised he had simply sat back, caressing her leg once more, adding a little more balm over the worst parts. He was even still fully dressed, making her feel all the more exposed. “Aren’t you too warm?” She asked, already realising how ridiculous the question was as it floated out into the air between them. She cursed her orgasm-fogged mind for the betrayal. “Have you truly forgotten where you are, Mouse? Who you are addressing?” He shifted a little, kneeling upright above her. “I only look like a human when I wish to, you are well aware of my true nature.” The brief scent of burning sulphur flashed in the air with the infernal fire that swirled around him for a split second, revealing a larger body, red skin, a crown of horns rising above his head almost as high as the wings that splayed out behind him. He remained, as he was before, fully dressed in his silks. His tail twitched in irritation, tapping on the sheets. —

“Whatever shall we do with you? You seem to have lost your mind entirely.” Raphael smiled sweetly, a complete façade as he took up his role as the saviour to relieve his poor little prey of the problem that Haarlep had created. “Would you feel more comfortable if I were less dressed, Little Mouse?” Her eyes widened just slightly, stoking his ego. “Maybe you’d feel more comfortable? Those look…tight…” Her eyes drifted down, his clothes tightened further as it wasn’t just his ego expanding. His wings stretched up further, the pride swelling in his chest. “What kind of host would I be to deny my guest a proper view?” The magic worked in a matter of moments, layers of finery dissolving like smoke, reappearing neatly folded on a chair near his boots. The cambion felt every part the saviour he intended to be, even as he loomed over her like a predator about to swoop down upon his prey. His fiendish form was larger, taller, and more intimidating… He often chose to remain in human shape around mortals, lulling them in to a false sense of security before revealing his more devilish nature for dramatic effect. There was nothing he loved more than feeling the swell of fear within a mortal heart when he grew above them, surrounded by hellfire. But there was no such trepidation from his Little Mouse… He could almost see why Haarlep called her Rat, now, the way her eyes took in all of his form, her body carefully moving to make more space for him. Bold. Too bold, perhaps. It was an invitation. The part of the gentleman saviour was one of pageantry, of etiquette, so the dance must continue now that he was dressed the part. Although… A wave of his hand and her nightdress was upon the same chair as his own clothes. An observer who wasn’t clouded by lust or shielded from the view by large red wings might recognise the subconscious choice to put their clothes together to be entirely too intimate for a devil and his client, but the two upon the bed had no such awareness now. —

Raphael’s body cast a looming shadow over Tav, the light filtering through the thinner skin over his wings in a way that made the almost look as if they were glowing. His eyes were aflame, the full blaze within them clear and glowing as they swept across her body. She shivered involuntarily as he lowered towards her, hands finding purchase either side of her shoulders. “What do you long for, Little Mouse? Tell me.” His lips were close to her ear now, his voice sending shivers down her spine, stomach tying itself in swift knots from the feel of his body so close to hers yet not touching. “I didn’t think you to be so slow in taking what you wanted, Raphael.” A little more of her boldness was returning, the itch to rile him up, to push him into acting how she wanted…but he wasn’t taking the bait. “Now, now, what kind of hero would I be to break you before you’ve even healed? No, that would not do at all. Do not think me a brute purely because of the actions of an unruly incubus, they will be punished for their indiscretion in due course.” Somewhere in another room, a red tail twitched with irritation it didn’t understand the cause of, while clawed hands turned the page of their book. Tav didn’t understand either, why he was bringing up Haarlep when they were alone. “I remember,” she whispered into his ear, “the first time you visited me. In what I thought was just a dream… You danced like a prince.” “And you, Mouse, spoke with no such grace or respect for one you would crown with such a title.” The choice of words was very deliberate, alluding to a contract yet to be agreed upon. “You’re right…Prince doesn’t quite suit you.” She reached up to caress his horns, her other hand running along the top edge of his wing, watching the lines in his face soften unexpectedly at the care. “You already have a crown, a cloak, and a great deal of power. It’s…impressive.” She brought down the hand that had been running over the ridges of his horns, instead tracing along his jaw to bring his lips to hers. “Flattery, Little Mouse, might get you somewhere, but I still want my real crown.” His voice was quieter, softer, lips a hair’s breadth away almost tickling her as he spoke. “Later…we can discuss that later.” She slid her hand behind his neck and pulled him in to a deep and passionate kiss. She didn’t want to think about contracts, or crowns, or tadpoles in her head. All she wanted was to feel , and there was no better way to lose yourself in sensation than to pull a fiend into your bed. —

Tav had once again thrown the proud demon off his balance, making moves on the board with rules he had never considered. The game was not his to outmanoeuvre her if she continued to nudge the table. He should really lay down the rules properly, enforce them, remind her who had the upper hand…but the taste of her lips…the feel of her tongue trying to devour her own essence that lingered on his own… Now he was in his fiendish form her body seemed even smaller, softer. She didn’t lack strength of course, even now as one of his hands traversed the length of her arm from the shoulder down to her delicate wrist, the lines of well honed muscles lay just beneath pale skin. His wings spread above her even as he avoided the deeper bruising, guiding her hands above her head. It was like a shield, a protective canopy, she was beneath him and only him. He would fill her vision, fill her mind, fill her- “I will not hold you here,” he pressed a light kiss to her wrist before guiding it back above her head, laying her hands together, “it’s too soon, and healers are expensive for complex injuries. So you will have to obey me instead. You say I have power? Then prove it, show how much power I have over you, and keep your hands right there.” He looked down, expecting to see her eyes defiance glaring back at him, but instead they were half closed, lips parted, breathing just two words. “Yes, Raphael.” Simple. It’s what he demanded of her, it’s what he wanted to hear, but hearing it? That hit a different chord. His tail shivered behind him, the feeling foreign but arousing. Did he want her to fight? Would he prefer it? Or was this deep trust unnerving again?... She knows she is mine, he reasoned, it’s about time, too. Leaving her arms unbound above her head, he moved his hand back down her body - his other arm still supporting his body easily, holding himself above her where she could see him but not yet feel him. He guided her thigh up a little, shifting lower as the greed within him rose. The need to have her, to feel her, to take her… —

Raphael’s teasing had built the lust in her body to a fever pitch. Tav could feel her body burning with longing, desperate for him to finally make his move. And yet, he remained slow, gentle. Caring , in such a way as a devil could be if he so wished. She realised he was different on his own, without Haarlep baiting him, pushing him. She bit her lip as he began to enter her, slowly, taking his time. Her breath left her in a slow exhale, feeling the stretch and heat building with every deliciously agonising second, the ridges adding friction to the equation, the sum total being a deeply satisfying feeling of being completely filled. Tav wanted to speak, to spur him on to move, to reach down and pull his body closer…but that command echoed in her ears. His blazing eyes, the way his horns and wings loomed above her - there was a power there. It hadn’t all been mindless ego-stroking. She groaned with the sensation as he pulled back slowly, ridges catching on muscles that strained to pull him in, her voice only raising louder as he thrust back into her. The pace he kept, it was maddening…the intensity of every motion, the way he moved his hips and watched her every reaction. If he didn’t care for her pleasure, it would be simple to thrust in and out at his own pace until he was done, but he was more than just attentive. Every single movement was lighting her on fire from the inside. The sound of the cambion’s own deep and seductive voice escaping as he felt her tightening, pulsing- It was getting harder and harder to keep her arms where he put them. She wanted to touch him, to feel his body above her instead of just watching… She imagined an invisible force holding her, focused more on the gathering rush building deeper inside as he began to let his avarice take over. —

Raphael felt every wave of her pleasure, and had long since forgotten to realise that Haarlep had not done a single thing to influence him. Everything he felt was entirely from within this room, from within her . Another time he might have preferred more, to go further, to tease her and draw it out, to mix in some pain and power- She had enough pain, and watching her face flush pink and wanting, hearing her gasps and moans from undiluted pleasure… It was a wine he was willing to sip today. She was allowing him power, giving herself over to him completely, and everything he drew from her was his alone. He tried to hold back a little, but the feeling of her around him was intoxicating. The scent of her skin, the way she bit her lip, the tightening as he hit just the right places- His voice caught between a moan and a growl as the rush overtook him. The cambion pulsed inside her, continuing to thrust as her own climax had her crying out into the otherwise quiet room. Perhaps the incubus even heard them now, and the thought of the Harlot being jealous sweetened the waves of aftershock as he rode them out with her, relishing the ragged gasps as her mind and body were filled only with what he gave her. Tav was shaking as he finally withdrew. Her hair even more of a mess beneath her head, and her hands still exactly where he told her to keep them. “Good, Little Mouse, good~” his voice rumbled through his chest with a pleased purr, “you may move now, when you are ready.” She relaxed her arms a little, her uninjured hand moving a single stray lock of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes and tucking it gently behind his horns. “Why are you really taking such care of me?” “I told you before,” he sighed, wondering how she still did not understand. “You are my favourite client, my path to what I need…” He paused. That wasn’t all. “And in my own way, I enjoy our time together.” —

Tav blinked. She wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly, and the blindly logical part of her brain quickly rationalised the honesty away. Ah, enjoyed, as in pleasure. The sex is good. That makes sense. Her body still felt a weak and limp as he moved from above her, wrapping the silk sheets around her naked body and lifting her up in his arms, holding her close against his chest as if she were a bride about to be carried across the threshold. “Raphael?” She peered up into his fiery eyes, confused again. “We must get you clean, Mouse, and I will not have sullied eyes gaze upon you. Until you are able to walk on your own, I will indulge you…but I expect you to try after you have bathed in the healing pool.” He was trying to sound stern, but it came across as a better bedside manner than the expensive healer he had hired. —

Haarlep looked up over the top of their novel, raising an eyebrow at the master of the house carrying his charge into the room wrapped in sullied sheets, whilst the devil himself remained completely naked. “Finally, you’ve decided to come and play-” they began, but were quickly cut off. “No, you’ve done quite enough for one day Harlot. She needs to recover, and I shall accept no more interference from you. I suggest you sit quietly and contemplate the punishment you have earned.” His voice was stern, dripping with venom, but quiet. Tav was already half asleep, exhausted already. Haarlep took the hint and kept their reply barely above a whisper. “What I’ve done? I haven’t done a single thing, Archduke , in fact I had considered the very fact that I’ve kept entirely to myself as my punishment to you for denying me.” They gave him an even more pointed look, sitting back and going back to their book. “But it hardly seems like you even need me, you have your prize, now leave me to my story. They’re just getting to the good bit.” Raphael paused. He stood dumbfounded, completely at a loss for words. If there had been no tainted potion, no influence on his own body- It would take days for the effects of those realisations to truly sink in, longer than it took Tav to fully recover. He didn’t even notice the longing when she waved goodbye and stepped through the portal back to the material realm… Avernus felt colder than it should, the halls of the House of Hope suddenly larger and emptier than they had been before.

----------- ----------- ENDING NOTES ----------- ----------- This one will fit very nicely into the ATG storyline I just need to work out where, either that or it'll hint towards a potential alternate ending path instead. Either way I very much enjoy toying with a softer side to Raphael, exploring his reluctance and denial in greater depth, along with the ways that both Haarlep and Tav can push him out of his comfort zone.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 raphael #bg3 tav #a tav's guide #fanfic #haarlep #soft raphael

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relatable-trxsh · 1 year

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What We Came Here To Do Pt. 5

Episode 3 pt.1

A/N: Holy shit I'm so sorry this took me so goddamn long. But I'm back guys and I will be regularly (Hopefully) posting again for this story!

Summary: Y/N Kane is not doing well after getting speared but with a little help from her friends maybe she can survive this.

warning: Mentions of a knife, Surgery(?) lots of cussing, if you squint a little bit of fluff

Third person pov

Everyone in camp was on edge, You were in an immense amount of pain and made it everyone’s business. Charlotte, the youngest delinquent sent to earth was having a nightmare when Clarke walked by. She crouched next to her gently shaking charlotte awake.

“Hey hey hey, shh it's okay wake up.” Charlotte jolted awake, sitting upright, shaking terribly. “Hey, it's okay to be scared. You're Charlotte, right? I'm Clarke, do you wanna talk about it?”

.”

“It's my parents, they were floated…they are all I see in my dreams.” Clarke gives the young girl a sympathetic look.

“Yeah I know the feeling, but I’d like to think down here we can live past all that, start over new and live a good life.” Charlotte wipes her face.

“Do you really think so?” Clarke stands dusting off her pants.

“I'm trying to. Now try and get some actual sleep.”

She walks to where the water is then before making her way back to the dropship.

“Hey princess.” Finn greets. Clarke hands him a container of water before sitting down.

“I'm worried about Y/n. She had a temperature and hasn't woken up yet. If I can't get advice from my mom soon I don't know what we’re going to do.” Finn signs looking down at you.

“Yeah, It worries me as well,” he says yawning.

“You should go get some rest, I'll keep an eye on her.” Finn is reluctant but nods because he was exhausted.

Clarke walks over to where Monty was working.

“How’s it going, Monty?” He lets out a sad sigh.

“Not well. The bracelets are fried before I can even try and use them.”

Clarke rubs her face in frustration, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Monty notices and places his hand on hers.

“Look Clarke it’s gonna be okay.”

“W-what if I can’t save her.” He gives Clarke's hand a firm but gentle squeeze.

“Hey don’t think like that, negative thoughts bring negative actions. No pressure but you got this.” She takes a deep breath and nods bending down to hug him. Monty is thrown back at first but hugs her back.

“Thank you Monty” He nods into her shoulder.

“Go get some sleep I’ll watch over her. Not like I’m gonna make any progress with these bracelets.” Clarke thankfully nods and goes to her tent.

Monty walks over to you and sits down taking your hand in his.

“Hey, they goober. I really need you to push through this. I know it’s for mostly selfish reasons because I don’t want you to die but also because we need you at this camp. I need your brains I know you would know how to contact the arch with these stupid bracelets. Hell if you were awake right now we’d probably have full power on this ship.” Your hand twitches a little and Monty smirks. “Cocky much.”

The next morning Finn walks into the ship and sees Monty asleep holding your hand. He goes to wake Monty but a hand stops him.

“He was up all night watching her, Plus they are pretty precious.” Clarke chuckles. Finn smiles and looks at you for a long moment, sadness in his heart as he thought back to the first time he met you.

You came racing to the mechanic wing tripping over your feet as you call, no scream down the hall for Wick. Before you could ever watch where you were going you collided with someone both of you hitting the ground. “Jesus watch where you're going!” You rub your head and look up.

“Sorry doofus I was in a hurry.” The boy with fluffy hair looks you up and down.

“Who you calling doofus, doofus.” You couldn't help but giggle a little which caused the boy to smile and hold out his hand.

“I'm Finn.” You grab his hand and give it a good shake.

“I'm Y/n”

“So where were you going in such a hurry?” You both stand up and you do a little twirl.

“I was going to show my best friend my new mechanics outfit!”

“Mechanics outfit huh?” He smirks. You nod proudly.

“I got into the program a month ago but my outfit just came.”

“Well go get 'em, tiger.”

“Finn…Finn?” Clarke waved her hand in front of his face.

“Uh sorry…” Clarke gives him a sad smile.

“We're gonna save her I have an idea., It's not a great idea and it's gonna be hard for everyone but it might actually save her. I'm going to cut out the infection.” Finn looks at Clarke a little scared. “We don't have any other option, Finn. We have to try.” He lets out a sigh before nodding.

“Okay, let's do it. I’ll wake up Monty you get what you need.”

About 45 minutes pass before Monty, Jasper, Clarke, and Finn stood around you, no one saying a word for a few minutes. Clarke is the first to speak.

“I really need you guys to make sure she doesn't move okay?” The boy's nod in agreement and Clarke takes in a deep breath before pressing the knife to your skin. Immediately You scream, jerking your body trying to get away from what was hurting you. “Hold her still!” They grab onto you tighter, watching in horror as their best friend screams.

Clarke was almost done when Bellamy comes running in.

“What the fuck are you guys doing to her?!” He didn't know when it happened but over the last few days, listening to the rest of the camp complain about You saying that they should just let you die had made him feel protective over you. So when he had gotten back from target practice with Murphy and your screams filled the camp his heart dropped to the bottom of his chest.

“Saving her life!” Finn snapped trying to hold you still.

“She can't be saved.” Murphy says walking in behind Bellamy. Bellamy is silent for a moment and Murphy looks at him.

“You can't be serious, you really think they can save her?” Bellamy looks at Clarke.

“Do what you have to do, I’ll be crowd control.” Clarke nods at him, mentally thanking him and Murphy scoffs before Bellamy shoves him out of the dropship.

Clarke goes back to work and soon she finishes. At some point, you passed out from the pain.

Monty and Jasper had left to take a nap so that left Clarke and Finn once again. Clarke pokes at the red moss on your open wound as she contemplated.

“Whatever this red moss is, is clearly helping to heal her. I need to find more.” Finn nods.

“Ill tell Monty and Jasper to watch over her, we can go on a little adventure.”

As soon as Clarke and Finn leave, reluctantly letting Wells tag along, Bellamy walks into the dropship.

“Hey can I can talk to her for a minute.” Monty and Jasper look at Bellamy.

“Uhh… sure want us to go outside?” Bellamy nods. They shrug and leave. Bellany takes a seat next to you and grabs your hand.

“Hey… sorry, I have visited since that night. I don't know why I'm so scared that you are gonna die but I am. I don't even know you but I feel so connected to you.” He leans down and kisses your hand. “Please don't die Y/n I need you.” He gets up and leaves not saying a word to Monty and Jasper. He leaves the camp with a hunting team, deciding he needed to kill something.

You continue to moan and scream in pain. Monty and Jasper just whisper to you and hold your hands trying to calm you down.

Outside the drop ship, Murphy is going crazy. He stands up knife in his hand.

“That's it, I can't take this anymore, she's fucking dead.” Mbege looks up at Murphy.

“I thought Bellamy said to leave her alone?” Murphy scoffs.

“I don't fucking care.” Octavia gets up from where she was sitting next to Atom and books it to the dropship.

“Murphy… he's gonna come…and kill Y/n” Monty shoots up from his seat and runs to the hatch, sitting on it just as Murphy tries to come in.

“Jasper, Octavia get me something thing to block the hatch!” They search around as Murphy pounds on the door.

“LET ME IN MONTY SHE NEEDS TO DIE!”

“NO!” Octavia finally finds something big enough.

“Got it, move!” She places it and the three of the watch the hatch, it moves but keeps Murphy out.

A full day goes by before Clarke, Finn, Wells Bellamy come back with the moss and atoms dead body.

Octavia runs out there.

“What the hell happened?!”

“There was a fog. We all got caught in it but looks like some didn't find shelter.” Finn says sadly.

“I'm sorry but I need to get to Y/n. Octavia, I’m so sorry.”

She nods and gives Clarke's hand a squeeze. Bellamy looks that the other delinquents.

“Get Clarke whatever she needs.”

“Jesus I was starting to think you guys died!” Jasper said exasperated. Finn sighs.

“There was a weird green fog, we did almost die.” Monty starts asking questions to which Finn answers the best he came about the fog while Clarke starts applying the red moss.

Bellamy looks at Murphy

“Anyone here besides Atom die?” Murphy does his signature scoff.

“No.”

“How's Y/n?”

“Tried to take her out but your psycho little sister and he stupid frie-” Bellamy lunges forward and grabs him by the collar.

“My what?” He says angrily.

“Your little sister.” Bellamy shoves him to the ground.

“That's what I thought, and if you ever try to lay hands on Y/n again you're done.”

~Taglist~

@gaymansruse @severa-kane @slut4bradley

#the 100 bellamy #the 100 clarke #the 100 au #the 100 imagines #the 100 finn #the 100 #the 100 imagine #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake #bellamy blake imagine #clarke x finn #john murphy

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browneyeddevil · 4 months

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little life update

First off, Happy New Year everyone! I hope the first few days of the year have been treating you well.

I know I've kind of been absent the last month or so, for good reason (chemistry sucks you guys), but during the last week of my holiday, I actually got a substantial amount of writing done, hooray! Effectively finishing off the third chapter of "The unlikely Coming-of-Age of Katniss Everdeen" in like three days, so hopefully, I'll be able to update that soon. In further news, I've decided to change the name of said story because it's... a stupidly long name and it's been annoying me forever. So, the story can now only be found under the name Growing Pains.

I've also been thinking that I should probably get a beta reader to help me edit through the longggg chapters I write for this story (Chapter 3 is over 12k in words you guys, I genuinely don't know how this happens), but also just to help me muddle through the plans I have. I realise now that there is definitely a little side story happening for the Games themselves, which I'm not sorry for as it has a greater impact on the larger story. But it's a lot. So if anyone is down to help a girly out just drop me a message :).

On another note, in the next few days, I'm going to try to sort through my inbox as a little house-cleaning before school starts up again next week and I lose all motivation and will to live. Especially to the people who have left super sweet comments in there, I'm so sorry I've neglected it for so long.

And, of course, as a sign of goodwill, I leave you with a sneak peek of the next chapter of Growing Pains; you can read the full story here.

The crinkling of a bag behind me catches my attention and I swing back around. Peeta barely seems fazed, his eyes also locked on the horizon. A keen look of focus on his face as his eyes sweep across the sky as if he can’t bear to not remember the sight. He blinks and the look is gone, the easy smile back in place.

He hands off the bag, the bread warm and heavy in my hands and my throat sticks.

“I wanted to repay you,” the words tumble out and my eyes automatically flicker to the apple tree still standing crooked in the garden. When he doesn’t respond I drag my eyes back and see that Peeta has followed my line of sight, his brow now furrowed as he studies the tree. He doesn’t remember, I think. “For the other day, I mean,” I hurry to clarify.

Peeta’s eyes dart back to me, and my breath catches as they rove over my face, the furrow in his brow still evident. What’s he looking for, I wonder, when his eyes catch on mine.

#life update #thg #thg fanfic #writing things #editing #beta reader needed #seriously you guys #grammarly isn't cutting it anymore

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ashplayz · 1 year

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'Bored' Jasper x reader angst pt 2..

'Redo''

Okay so I made that fanfiction some time ago and while it did get a good amount of attention nobody had asked for a pt 2 originally I was thinking about making a pt 2 with a happy ending but since I thought I didn't have a reason to I never did. But I finally did get someone asking for a pt 2 so here you go (now it might not be as good as the first one but I really tried it's not very long though)

(It switches from she/you)

Narrator:

So you're probably wondering what happened after the break up between y/n and Jasper all that time ago, so this is that story..

Jasper had nowhere to go after y/n kicked her out, she could have gone back to her cave but she knew she couldn't necessarily better herself in a cave, now she knew even if she did improve on herself y/n probably wouldn't take her back. But she desperately wanted her to know she was trying to improve for her.. So she went to the place that had been preaching about improving herself this whole time. Now she did face some uneasiness from a few of the gems, while they were happy she wanted to change, they knew they had a long difficult road ahead of them. Even more difficult with Steven off to other things. But they sure all hell were gonna try their best.

Amethyst was the person that had the most uneasiness towards Jasper. She was suspicious of her, but she happened to be the first person Jasper told about the reason why she wanted to improve herself, or well the person she wanted to improve for. Jasper didn't like talking about it, but when she did talk about it she wasn't afraid to admit she screwed up. She knew that as much as she wished she could take it back she knew she couldn't. Now Jasper said just being friends with y/n would be enough for her but that didn't mean she wouldn't have some certain people trying to play matchmaker (if Garnet is unfused I definitely see ruby and sapphire getting in on this.)

Jasper insisted she could let go of y/n in the romantic scene but she would never imagine that the next time she'd see her it would tear apart her heart all over again..

Jasper was finally improving a great deal at little home school and Amethyst thought she was ready to talk to y/n so she went off to find her.

You were hesitant to allow yourself to be happy about the fact she had improved for you, because it all felt as if it was in vain, but nonetheless you followed amethyst to little home school, hoping to tie up some loose ends with Jasper. When you two saw each other there were so many feelings going on at once, Jasper clearly seemed like she had changed. Y/n definitely had.. She wasn't that same girl that Jasper once knew to go to war over the last soda.. No she was sheltered and distant.. Maybe even cold but Jasper couldn't blame her after all she had put her through. Despite being guarded, y/n still offered Jasper her full support in bettering herself. Even rendering her to a therapist, it wasn't really like they could talk like old times but it was enough for them to be able to smile in each other's presence.

But there were still some people eager to get you two back together instead of just letting things be. But there attempts at 'parent trapping' the two of you only led to problems because well.. Y/n was engaged..

(Cliff hanger!-

No. Not really, I really don't feel like writing a pt 3 so..)

Jasper felt a mix of emotions upon this news she was hurt. But happy for her.. Yet.. She couldn't help but notice you didn't seem happy.. (I recently watched the d&d movie so Jasper basically asks y/n the same thing holga asked her ex husband.) "Do they make you happy? Happier than I did..?" Jasper asked, if the answer to that was yes, she'd support you.. "They don't cause me any pain.." Was all y/n said in response.. But.. You still didn't answer the question..

Now Jasper's smart, but a bit impulsive so if she thought for a second that you were unhappy in your new relationship she was quick to jump on board any plans to stop it. And this was NOT so she could get you to herself. You deserved happiness and if you wouldn't fight for your happiness she would.

(Narrator: so this basically turns into 'speak now' from Taylor swift) Jasper teamed up with a few gems in hopes to crash the wedding. Amethyst led this group of wedding crashers and garnet who was often unfused to teach at little home school, so Ruby and sapphire. Peridot didn't really know what was happening but she wanted to help. Bismuth was there to offer support if needed. Some of the other gems (like pearl and lapis) thought it was a bad idea but we're still there to back them up if anything went south.

*Insert speak now from Taylor Swift*

(I really don't have the experience writing for a wedding crashing)

So the wedding was crashed, and it didn't exactly have the ending in the song. But the truth about the lack of feeling between you and your 'fiance' came out. So as you were pulled away from the wedding, you couldn't help but feel grateful. But at this point it really didn't feel like you and Jasper would ever be back in a romantic relationship with each other but maybe you were wrong about that too..

Because within a year or so you two are getting ready for a 'redo' date and of course y'all had your band of wedding crashers to help you get ready.

Jasper was nervous. It had been so long since the original breakup and she knew she'd never forgive herself for screwing up again. Y/n was nervous too.. While she was ready to open her heart to Jasper again she still had these walls up, although she was confident that Jasper would break through those walls given time..

As Jasper aproched y/n she awkwardly extended y/n's favorite type of flower. To which y/n chuckled.. "You remembered.." Y/n remnmaked while sniffing the flower.. "Of course" Jasper replied, giving her a nervous smile (god she's a dork) "Look.. I know I hurt you.. And that it will take time before things will truly be fixed but I won't stop fighting for us" Jasper said, taking her free hand. Y/n smiled "I know.." She replied..

…

"Hopefully I won't be 'bored' anymore."

"You won't be."

…

The end..

(Wish it was longer but this is all I've got, hopefully those who liked 'bored' will enjoy this) (please do not ask for a pt 3 🥲)

#steven universe #jasper #x reader #Spotify

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writerof-thewoods · 7 months

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Chapter 3: The Fall (part 1)

"Lay Me Gently in the Cold Dark Earth" Chapter 3)

Summary: Recurring nightmares of the fall continue to haunt Crowley. So much that this one instance leaves him in a state he'd never been in before.

TW for religious imagery/references

What begins this hazy twilight is the slow steady prelude of an epic tale. A tale that would span through the ages woven with the threads by a universe in its infancy. Unresting, unwavering, and silently preparing itself to be given a purpose. A destiny unknown.

______________________________________________________________

The heavens rang out with a first flash of energy-the bang flashing in every and all directions. The stage set for the first act. The curtain rises as the actors take their positions and begin in the familiar dance that was eternity. Angelic celestial beings rang out as heroes with their plan for the story. Crashing in an unending battle amongst themselves and the cast out villains lurking in the shadows. Their Righteous Dominion fell onto their shoulders as they fought with divine authority. They were angels of grace, power, and order, everything wanted in a defender of what was right.

It was not a performance of triumph. There were neither winners nor losers in the ending of this strange battle. Only the falling of archangels and beings to follow the first. The one who burned the pages of the book, wanting to rewrite it in his own devotion to the universe. The rebellious one. All who stood with the prince of darkness were sent down with him.

Stripped of their holy title, bodies marked with their deeds, and eyes once full of wonder and knowledge of the galaxies were tarnished as a reminder of their betrayal to the Almighty. Whatever comfort they had was gone, only jaded suffering would be allowed to take its place.

One of said creatures lay shriveled on the ground, struggling to breath in its paralyzing agony. Their mind raced with what they could’ve done, why the creator who once loved them so would send them to endure such pain. They hadn’t meant to do any harm; they didn’t even know what wrong was; they only wanted to see something different. To ask questions, but they never thought it would land them here.

The monster’s once sweet nature was replaced with feelings of sorrow, fury, and anguish. Their body cried with even the slightest of movement, even when tears began to fall from their eyes. The creature laid covered in debris and ash from their fall from grace. Said tears stained and stung their burning, soot covered face. As the memories of the experience began to flood their already fractured mind, a shadowy figure watched from afar.

The figure being Satan. He’d seen many creatures come and go, the fear that came to their eyes as they realized their fate filled him with childish glee. But this one was different somehow, at least in this specific instance. They weren’t moving nor did they want to be here that's for sure, but they seemed to be taking it much harder than the rest. Most of the fallen had already gone and gladly taken their positions in Hell with an overwhelming amount of pride. Unlike them, they weren’t happy or even willing to be on his side. They probably didn’t even know who he was other than what they’d heard above. If anything, they were like a lost child separated from their parents, rather than a fallen angel.

He cursed himself for feeling this sort of way. He was Satan. Humanity’s main antagonist, and hear he was feeling some form of sympathy ? Well, if you could even call it that. It was more pity than anything. He looked over at the creature with a pained look. Remembering that he too had been in their place. He knew what it felt like. To be cast out by someone that you once loved and trusted. However, that had been a millennia ago, so the empathy he had for them was very limited. Despite that though, he stalked over and looked at them, seeing what lay inside their soul that couldn’t bear itself to the human eye.

The monster shivered at the feeling of eyes on them. Shuddering as the burning feeling began to dissipate through the rest of their body, they tentatively opened their eyes.

Satan clucked his tongue at the creature. Such a terrified little thing. Whatever brought you down here? You don’t belong here. If anything, you belong in purgatory at the very least, but not in Hell. “Who are you, demon?” He asked, his voice ringing out like an abandoned organ.

The ex-angel tried to remember, but the pain was too unbearable. They lay back in shame and sighed. The smallest of actions seem to take an eternity. When they felt like they could respond, they leaned over and quietly whispered. “I…I..” But they were instantly cut off by a fit of coughs erupting from their chest.

A cruel smile formed on Satan’s lips as he cooed at the creature's struggle. Leaning down, he pulled them up to their feet and held them in his arms. “Never mind that, you’ll have a new identity. You, my pet, will be Crawley. How does that sound?”

Crawley cried out as they were lifted off of the ground. Struggling for a moment, they went limp and couldn’t meet Satan’s condescending eyes. That was one of the many things he remembered. To never look him in the eye unless you had a reason to. And that’d better be a good one. The demon nodded slowly in response.

Satan smirked with horrific glee and marveled at the fear that coursed through every fiber of the new demon’s being. A small part of him begged him to spare this one, and shockingly enough, he listened to it. It would take this creature a much longer time to adjust to their new fate. Just like he had. So, in the moments that felt like an eternity between the two, he decided he would take the demon under his wing (figuratively and literally).

“I know how you must feel, but trust me, you’ll adjust to life here much sooner than you think. You have potential, unlike any other demon I’d seen in a long time.”

Crawley trembled in fear as tears ran down their face. They didn’t want this. They didn’t want to be here in the first place, but especially not this. What was he talking about? What could this mean? Most of all, why did it have to be…them?

“Come now pet, we have a lot of work to do.” He stalked forward towards the long trek to the beginning formation in front of them. The creation of Earth. The place Satan presided over while his disciples went and did as they were told. Crawley had been there when the Almighty made the planet. It was so unique, so different, so beautiful…just like everything she and her Angels created. Now, it was as bittersweet as ever as they knew they’d never get to see it with them.

Reluctantly, with a body and mind filled with an aching sorrow for the future they’d never have, Crawley followed him. A hole in their heart grew as the realization that they’d never feel love, tenderness, and kindness from the Almighty again set in.

The hole only continued to grow. So much so that all they could do was scream.

#reposted from my ao3 account #my writing #good omens fanfic #good omens agere #agere fanfic #fandom agere #sfw regression #non com agere #my fanfiction #ineffable husbands agere #ineffable husbands fic #willowws writing

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itchyeye · 1 year

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Honestly one of my least favorite things about TMA is the pacing. The individual statements are excellent but you can't build a meta story without considering the broader pacing.

Honestly, i don't see the point in making the Stranger and the Dark separate entities when the Dark gets destroyed so quickly in a way that is so useless to the story. I get that they needed to convey that stopping the rituals was meaningless and giving Jon another enemy (that he was perfectly designed to fight because of those eye powers Jonah wanted him to grow) was a way to do that, but surely there was a *better* one? It was one or two episodes for practically nothing...

Also did you find that TMA got more stressful over time with little to no relief? I don't feel the same mounting dread listening to Alice Isn't Dead or Malevolent, and the horror in those isn't exactly light. There are just... breather moments. I feel like those are important. You can't keep raising the stakes and reducing the hope forever.

(While I'm on the topic of hope, I didn't like having all the mystery surrounding the entities in season 3 taken away and having any hope for a happy ending taken away all at once. Pacing wise, halfway through season 3/5 is way too early to let that bomb drop)

imo, anyway

(Wednesday anon)

i agree with you 100% on pacing, the pacing of the entire series is a mess, but i disagree about why the pacing is bad for the reveal bc i actually think it came way too late

the reveal of the entities imo was too slow, we don't get an explanation for the mechanic of the whole world of magverse until mag 111, which is halfway through s3, and there are only 5 seasons

the glacial pace of this reveal is way less noticeable on re-listens, because if you know about the entities of fear from the very beginning, a lot more of the series makes a lot more sense

jonny talks in q+as about balancing the horror and the mystery and while i feel like the mystery was well structured, it was paced badly

and even once the entity reveal happens (in one of the best episodes ofc) the unknowing crap drags oooooooon and on and on and on and on for fucking ever

i'm sure if you like the stranger, it's nice to have two full seasons dedicated to it, but i personally find it to be a very tedious and poorly executed entity so the amount of time the series spends on its ritual and its monsters was a bummer to me

that's not to say that those two full seasons are a wash!!! that's untrue by any stretch, some of the series' best episodes are in s2 and my favorite season over all is s3

but the draaaaag of getting to the unknowing feels almost like living it in real time, and i personally don't care for the finale at all (it's a technical marvel but an audio nightmare, besides not enjoying the topsy turvy circus theme i also can't stand the cacophony of the ritual (which i do understand is the whole point but that doesn't change the fact that i find it painful to listen to))

and yes, absolutely, preventing the dark ritual was HORRIBLY rushed, especially since when basira and jon actually get to ny-ålesund, the ritual was prevented years ago... one of the MANY instances in tma where we get a lot of drawn out build up for sort of a wet fart reveal

it was introduced early on with elias giving basira bad intel in order to get her out of the institute while jon gets marked by the buried, but the audience doesn't know that's connected to the dark ritual until like... six? i think six episodes? later? and then wham bam the whole dark business is over before it even starts

which is a bummer to me because it gives us so little time with jon and basira traveling :( and also the dark is a very mid fear for me BUT whatever tf manuela and maxwell had going on was weeeeeeeeeeeeird (horny tone indicator) and i want so badly for them to be actual fully realized characters bc avatar/acolyte with a ridiculous age gap is my fucking JAM and jonny does it so often...

but i disagree about the stranger and the dark not being meaningfully different entities? maybe i'm misunderstanding you, but while i think the stranger is a thematic mess, the dark is a very concrete tightly executed entity

i love the dark's connection to brackish water as well, i think that's very interesting and very visually engaging

i think the cult aspects of the people's church were introduced late and not very effectively... i mean they were introduced in s2 with basira's statement but we didn't really get into it from a devotee pov until manuela. but also jonny's religious horror flops for me every time :/ the father burroughs arc, the dark, most of the lightless flame, etc just feels flat to me... but chalk that one up to my jewish upbringing maybe?? i love the worship aspect of the entities so it's not like i dislike how jonny writes the horror of devotion, it's just when he talks about organized religion that i sort of tune out

i personally don't find tma stressful! i didn't on my first listen and i haven't found it to be so since. i find a lot of tma disappointing because of the way it builds and builds and builds and then.... flops. but not stressful!

also this is down to personal preference but my favorite type of horror is relentlessly bleak. i love nihilistic hopeless horror! and i think tma really really delivers bleak. the environment, the futile struggle of humanity against the fears, the total lack of interpersonal connection, i love all of it. i think if jonny had stuck to his guns and done a real horror tragedy and committed to the incredible oppressive sense of hopelessness he had built for 4 seasons, jm wouldn't have happened and s5 could have been good (altho i have to say that on principle i find goofy nightmare dnd hike through themed escape rooms to be a dogshit concept for a season, especially as a finale for a series that was so grounded in reality? that had such a solid connection to the bleakness of real life!! of shit jobs and bad friendships and depressive spirals etc. why did we end the world and end up in rick and mortyverse. why would we do that...)

but yeah definitely i can see why the relentless downward trajectory of tma might not appeal to everyone, but it's personally one of my favorite aspects of it

[jennifer check voice] i need [my horror stories] hopeless

#[💌] asks and replies #wednesday anon

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kimyoonmiauthor · 1 year

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Kinda a note to myself about story structure...need to add notes about erasure

I have a habit of looking up the paratext of books I kinda know, but don’t know well, especially around book adaptations. I’m the type that loves Behind the Scenes and probably have watched a ton of BTS more than some of the shows.

And yeah, umm. CW, gay erasure coming up. Iunno if this is CW, but yeah... you’re about to be frustrated. I need to share it with someone.

The first time I was introduced to Forster was when I was younger, and full disclosure, I really didn’t like Howard’s End. I thought it was boring as !@#$. No, I’m not kidding. I hated a lot of it. Might not have helped that I watched it with my parents who like to think they are art snobs, but that’s questionable in my PoV.

That given, when I ventured into doing story structure, I found him again through writing books, and I kinda like a lot of his writing advice, though some of it isn’t great, the take down of Percy Lubbock, I did enjoy after reading Percy Lubbock’s Craft of Fiction (1921). Aspects of the Novel, is not that bad, but it gets used by the structuralists later as the pinnacle of horrid writing advice repeatedly (Say like Robert Scholes’s Fabulation and Metafiction (1979, BTW, in the backslide era after the 1960′s) who manages to go on a good clip of hating women, and gays in the same two pages in a WTF rant, comparing the 3/5 act structure to cishet male version of sex.), probably because Forster is gay. But in all honesty, I don’t think this is fair. I mean I’ve read a lot of writing advice books to track down the history of it, etc, and Forster is not the worst of the lot. (I’m kinda leaning towards Freytag to be honest, with Aristotle up there, but in this particular case, it was the times does work for Aristotle, though Aristotle was not a storywriter and also a terrible person--which to be clear yet again, is not excusable with “It was the times”. Maybe some of my ire is at how horrible they were. But some of the advice is things they did were rotten.)

So, I was watching Lady Chatterley's Lover, so looking up the Paratext, and I found that the story was likely influenced, or wholesale stolen from Forster. !@#$. Forster had a novel, “Maurice” and yeah, it’s very close to the plot of Lady Chatterley’s Lover.

Only privileged people say crap like people can’t steal ideas. Privileged people steal ideas from marginalized people and then scrub the diversity.

Anyway, the reason I was writhing is such pain was because I saw the damage people had tried to do to Forster and to try to take his ideas and scrub them either out of literary canon, discredit him, snobbily call him a Modernist without commercial value, or steal his ideas without credit. And the thing is that I’ve seen this behavior before with other writers in the Literary canon. They ignore or shoot them out, not for their ideas, but the identities they cannot control.

If you don’t have Forster, you have Lubbock, who came out gay later, and they quietly erased all credit to him. (I feel stabby about that one too--I don’t agree with him on a lot of things, but seriously, I hate plagiarism and erasure and while how he demonstrated his examples were probably rotten, some of his ideas are not?). If you don’t have Lubbock, then quiet erasing of Woolf’s commentary on Lubbock. Because if you mention Woolf as anything other than a Modernist, you have to mention Lubbock and her reaction to his text. (She didn’t hate it, she was iffy on it. More like Hate-love relationship to the text.)

If you don’t have Lubbock, then you have hating on and actively trying to erase Gertrude Stein. (The amount of free for all on her isn’t fair, really... I mean without her a lot of conventions you think of as normal wouldn’t be in film, plays or books.) But hate on the openly lesbian (And don’t worry, hating on women, in general, is a theme with structuralists, either directly or indirectly. Such as Field mentioning how he knew some great modernists in one version of his book, but then hating Stein anyway, even if she influenced their work.--;;)

If it’s not hating on gays, women, lesbians, then it’s also hating on Jews. !@#$. Of course they tried to erase Freytag for a time, but I think he came back with credit later. Introducing erasing credit for Lajos Egri, whom Syd Field didn’t credit until the last edition of his book when he was in poor health and died shortly after, as if 2008-ish was a terrible time to tell everyone you got some of your ideas from a Jew. (Yes, some sarcasm, considering the treatment of women in Field’s text even through 2008)

We haven’t even gotten to the erasure of PoCs who often didn’t get writing advice books published, so had to do it through memoirs. The amount of queer memoirs by fiction writers I had to read to delve deeper is kinda high. (If you’re queer, your icon’s advice are in memoirs and autobiographies).

Honestly, this part irks me about story structure study. The amount of discovered painful erasure. I love undoing the erasure, but discovering the erasure itself is always a moment of “Why?” And also “Why did that matter to this author?” (Rowe though I don’t understand... why plagiarize so hard and then warp the ideas of the original authors?)

The fun parts of it are that I love that people philosophically think about it and it’s not as brutal as say, discussing the tea trade which the first 3/4 makes me happy and then the last 1/4 makes me incredibly sad. As an import/export item, Story structure is pretty harmless, maybe more harmless than humans themselves. This is because while story structure is often imposed destructively, people also still remember their old story structures, change and adapt, go back and forth with them, so the colonized never really get colonized with story. And to me, the best parts of humanity aren’t when we are hating each other, but when we’re thinking, examining, and consensually sharing with each other.

But the dark side of humanity is still in the study of story structure. So I’m crying for Forster. I’m not exactly in love with his fiction, but I do like his writing advice. Someone else has to feel my unending pain at how shafted this guy got by the writing community. People hate him for being openly gay. But why not celebrate some of the good things he contributed to us?

(Maybe I don’t love his attitudes towards colonialism, but I still can appreciate Maurice? We need nuance.) BTW, I would 100% watch an adaptation of Maurice.

#em forster #gay erasure #story structure #where are the diverse people in story structure?

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calliopecalling · 2 years

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QOTS Rewatch - Season 5 Retrospective

Man, I've been dragging my feet on working on this. I've spent almost a full year on this rewatch (it really took on a life of its own; I didn't go into it planning to write involved metas or reblog a week's worth of gifsets for every episode but I am just THAT over the top) and I don't even know what I'm going to do with myself now that it's over. Watch something else?!?!?! Like what!?!?!?! Seriously though.

Anyway, where were we? Season 5. It's an interesting season to reflect back on. Sometimes it feels like my second-favorite season after season 2, and other times it feels like my second-least-favorite season after season 4. It ends up being really difficult to place. Its primary problem really in my opinion is that it's rushed, and there's so much plot to get through that the writers and editors had to leave us with sometimes frustratingly short character-driven scenes and force us to fill in the gap. But it does feel more Teresa-driven than season 1 does and, Kote notwithstanding, the non-Teresa-centered scenes still somehow feel a little more relevant or engaging than some of the Vargas stuff in seasons 1 and 3 both. (Epifanio and Batman's story took up a superfluous amount of screen time in season 1, I realized on rewatch, and season 3 has soooo much Cortez and Isabela and Loya and stuff that is way more painful to watch than Kelly Anne getting an ultrasound, even if Pote's sexist quips do make me roll my eyes.) So I don't know. I guess you'll have to give me a few more weeks to think about it. But season 5 as a whole entity in my opinion stands up pretty well on rewatch. It's the Jeresa content in season 5 that doesn't hold up as well as season 2 or 3's Jeresa. (Again, largely because of how rushed it is.)

But as always, I'll do my ranking and things:

My Top 3 Episodes

My Top 5 Scenes

Season 5 Episodes Ranked

Teresa’s Journey

Jeresa, DUH

Top 3 Season 5 Episodes

3: 5x05, Mas Dinero Mas Problemas

It actually was hard to choose the third place episode. There are several other contenders for this spot. But this episode as a whole is really fun to me. It's Teresa-centric. It features Oksana (yay female characters). It's set in Berlin. It features awesome Jeresa teamwork. It throws back to earlier show canon (Rocco de la Pena! Oleg!) and Teresa even gets to break an asshole's nose. James's all-black suit is to die for, as is Teresa's high pony, and best of all? The non-Teresa-focused material is focused on George and Boaz in Miami which, while definitely feeling sinister, gives both of them great material to work with. George buying Teresa that boat? Lol. This is an episode that I gladly watch in full without wanting to fast-forward through anything (a rarity for me among episodes after season 2) and it's a queenpin-esque version of Teresa that isn't as painful as the previous two episodes. All great stuff.

2: 5x09, A Prueba de Balas

Listen, I am not going to pretend that this is here for any other reason than the love confessions and long-awaited Jeresa hook-up, though I love every single Jeresa moment in the episode, I love that it's down to the two of them against the world (just like it was in the beginning before Teresa even knew that it was the two of them against the world), and I love that she takes out Kostya like the badass she is. We won't talk about the raccoons and peewee soccer.

1: 5x02, Me Llevo Manhattan

OBVIOUSLY. I mean: this episode might be my favorite episode of the entire series. It's perfect, classic, angsty, electric Jeresa; they actually talk to each other about stuff other than business (several times); they call back in their dialogue to earlier seasons. They KISS and it's magnetic. They dance around whatever the fuck it is that's happening between them. And they both just stumble around incoherently attracted to each other but refusing to talk about it because they are imbeciles. On top of all that, there's James back to his going-all-out-to-protect-Teresa habits and Teresa back to her taking-crazy-risks-but-earning-mad-respect bs. Teresa's whole "you work for me now; when I call, you answer on the second ring" speech to Lafayette is literal fire and even the non-Jeresa scenes in this episode are good: Kelly Anne with Judge Lafayette's business partner; Boaz with the Judge; the pregnancy reveal. My favorite scene of the episode, though, the one that makes me levitate, is the balcony scene between James and Teresa in Manhattan. Wtffffff that scene was like, designed to personally destroy me. But more about that later.

Top 5 Season 5 Scenes

This was so hard for me. The truth is that there are two types of scenes, Jeresa scenes and non-Jeresa scenes, and they belong on parallel ladders to me. The Teresa who shows up with James and the Teresa who shows up otherwise is so different (I mean: compare literally any of the 5x02 Jeresa scenes to, say, how Teresa interacts with Oksana and Oscar and the Judge in that same episode). And I love both kinds of scenes for her. The way she almost coyly greets those real estate developers in 5x06, knowing full well she's going to slaughter them? *shivers* sooooo good. But when push comes to shove, it's the Jeresa scenes that all slide to the top, because it's the version of herself she gives him that is the one we're ultimately rooting for. So without further ado:

#5:

The scene: Episode 5x02, bedroom conversation

What I love about it: Soooo muuuuuch subtext here. After Teresa in the previous episode gave James literally nothing to work with, now that she's wrapped her mind around him being back she is completely unable to keep up the act. Watching both of them dancing around what they're actually trying to talk about is so delightful, and the icing on the cake is Chicho walking in right in the middle of a particularly intimate gesture.

#4:

The scene: Episode 5x09, the balcony kiss

What I love about it: Do I really need to explain myself? I love this kiss so much because it's written all over Teresa's face what combination of fear, desire, and love is driving her. It's no longer impulsive as it was in 5x02 or tenuous as it was in 3x09 or generous as it was in 3x05, it's for her, it's because she wants him and she's terrified of dying without him knowing it. And then he returns it so wholly and confidently and damn. To me it's the moment they catch up to each other and finally land on the same page. The I love yous that follow were made possible by this kiss.

#3:

The scene: Episode 5x07, the waterfront launch party heart-eyes

What I love about it: Again, so much subtext here. The intense intimacy of a moment in which relatively little gets said (and all of it completely innocuous). The verbal callback to the season 3 finale made the fandom's collective hearts jump to our throats as we wondered, with Teresa, if he was about to say he was leaving. Teresa's clear display of vulnerability in this single 90 second scene made up for the four previous episodes of distance between them. But really.... it's all in the subtext here.

#2:

The scene: Episode 5x10, the final Queenpin scene

What I love about it: It's the perfect Queenpin send-off. It's perfectly appropriate that she shows up one last time and the way it's done here is so beautiful. She looks so serene and her nod of approval closes the circle with episodes 2x06 and 3x10 where Queenpin seemed to be nudging Teresa towards James. And THEN, as Queenpin departs, James steps in. 'You ok?' Could it be any clearer? She doesn't need Queenpin to be her guardian angel anymore. She has James. God, I must be in a mood today because I'm literally choking up as I write this 😭 Excuse me while I go rewatch this scene 28 more times.

#1:

The scene: Episode 5x02, the balcony scene

What I love about it: Was there ever any doubt this was going to be my number one scene of this season? No, there was not. It is the perfect combination of classic Jeresa--James pining, Teresa being cool and unruffled, an almost visible electric current of tension between them, and oh my god the subtexttttttt. Yes, I'm predictable. I don't even think I have enough words to convey exactly how much this scene breaks me apart and I definitely don't have the words to confess how often I rewatch it. Literally I AM JAMES when she says "you and me can't happen" and I feel my entire body turn to jelly, and then when she says "maybe in some other life" I'm like EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE GO GET IT JAMES. This scene to me is their crowning achievement as actors playing this couple of idiots. That chemistry is crazy.

Season 5 Episodes Ranked

5x02

5x09

5x05

5x06

5x08

5x07

5x01

5x03

5x04

5x10

Yes, the finale is my least-favorite episode of the season. There's just nowhere near enough Teresa, or James. Waaaaay too much Pote, and Pote is just not an interesting character. Plus it's so dominated by men. I just could not care about the fight between him and Boaz. It all felt like male viewership fan service. Ew. So, looking at episodes in their entirety, it falls at the bottom. Really though I think this speaks to honestly how strong the season is overall, when it comes down to it. I loved it on rewatch and looking back at this list I even feel sad about having 5x03 and 5x04 so low! I've grown to like even those, despite how painful some of the scenes are.

Teresa's Journey

So, this is the season that obviously brings her as close to Queenpin as she'll ever come, the season in which she faces the ultimate choice: fully abandon herself in a quest to become untouchable in her power, or fully abandon that quest in order to save her soul. Both of these are different sides of the "survival" coin. And both involve incredible risk. Having taken out Kostya, she came as close as really was possible to that untouchable power that the Queenpin visions throughout the series evoked. She would have been protected by the American CIA and would have run the largest and most powerful drug empire in the world. Of course when you're at the top, someone is always ready to take you out, so the risk of staying--despite the promise of safety and protection--was huge.

On the other hand, disappearing. So much risk there, too. So simple in concept: shed your identity, go somewhere remote, and start over from scratch. But when you're in the cartel world that deep, obviously it's not just possible to get out. Your continued existence is too threatening to everyone who stays in; you know way too much. And SO much could go wrong in the process of trying to escape.

So both of these choices offered the promise of safety and both came with a heaping side of risk. But the Teresa we were introduced to in season 1 would've had absolutely no difficulty picking between them, right? So in retrospect, her full character journey was to slowly and gradually become someone who would believably struggle with that choice, someone we would believably worry might make the "wrong" choice.

And I think they really did pull that off. Already by season 2, it's less clear that she would choose to disappear rather than become all-powerful. She'd already lost everyone she'd loved by then and felt herself to be alone, and I think loneliness was one of the biggest drivers for her in seeking power over feeding her soul. It was always loss and trauma that pushed her further into the business and, even though season 5 didn't super explicitly link her rapid power grabs to Tony's death the previous season, it was clearly the darkness of that loss (maybe combined with the unsettling reappearance of James) that pushed her over the edge.

So was it believable that, in the end, she chose her soul? Yeah. They made us worry about her for the first half of season 5, pushing away everyone she cared about and seeming like a hollow shell of herself. But by episode 5x08 her vulnerability is palpable again. Like George's loss, combined with pregnant Kelly Anne's kidnapping, and faced with the possibility of dying herself, and losing James in the process, that she gets her wakeup call. So to me, her final decision feels very earned. I just wish they hadn't wasted a full episode trying to convince us she wasn't going to make it 😂

Jeresa

And all inextricably tied up with Teresa's character turnaround in season 5 is her relationship with James. This is another thing the season didn't make super explicit, at least in the written dialogue, but on rewatch it feels exceptionally clear that his presence allowed her to make what no doubt seemed like an impossible decision to turn the train around that was fast hurtling towards a cliff. He:

showed up mortally wounded trying to save her life

stuck by her side even when she made a disappointing decision that showed how much she'd changed

tolerated her snapping at him and pushing him away because he wasn't going to just give up on her after the huge way she'd busted into HIS life and changed HIM from the inside out

gently challenged her, wherever possible, despite having had it made clear to him that doing that was risky

backed her up 100% and went the extra mile to show his loyalty (beating up Navarro's connect), care (delivering an entire army of ex-Mossad for her security), and competence (stealing the painting)

And then, when she'd sent Pote and Kelly Anne packing and it was just the two of them again (the symmetry to the beginning of the series is so lovely there), his steadiness in the face of her emotional undoing is such a visible factor of her turning everything around. Yes, she's scared for Kelly Anne and her baby. Yes, she's upset about George. But in 5x09 after she's sent Kote away and it's too late to save George, those aren't her motivators anymore. James is. You can see it in her eyes on the balcony that it's not her own death that she fears but the possibility of dying without having loved.

Teresa is a lover. We knew that from the very beginning. She essentially told us that in her own voice over in the pilot. Her drug of choice was Guero. Comparing Guero to a drug is so apt (and foreshadows all the events of the first three seasons and how Guero's actions underlie so much of what she had to go through) so that her fear of love also becomes understandable. She was so slow to fully trust James because of the betrayal she'd experienced before; she was slow to open herself up to him as a lover because the risk of that vulnerability was too devastating. But when she stares down death and realizes she's held real love at arm's-length, its pull and its promise is way too great to turn away from.

I think the writers and show runners of this season struggled with this because the love story they'd created was so powerful and yet they knew (and I agree) that this show wasn't intended to be a love story. The book that it's based on is not a love story. It's the story of a woman and her incredible journey from life on the streets of Culiacán to becoming a powerful druglord and then her final escape from that life. But Jeresa is so powerful that even without explicit efforts on the part of the writers this season it's clear that it's a story in which love wins. She gets out, because of love. She makes the choice to disappear, because of love. Yes, platonic and familial love play into it, too; and stacking up the losses of those she's loved over the years and the risks to those who remain are explicitly part of the story. But by 5x09 the only ones who remain are her and James. She's lost or sent away everyone else.

I guess I forgive the writers for leaving much of their relationship this season to the imagination. I would've loved more conversations between the two of them that were 5x02 or 3x08 caliber, but I think the writers were trying to strike a balance between the people who clearly watched the show for Jeresa and the people who clearly cared less. Do I think they should've just written the show the seasons 2-3 writers set up? Yes. Do I blame them for trying to please a broader base? No. I don't, because I think it's ultimately so obvious anyway that James helped Teresa out of the cave in the same way she did originally that it still ties together beautifully in the end.

So. Now what?

As I said yesterday, I have saved many hundreds of gifsets in my queue still to reblog that I didn't reblog as part of the "official" rewatch. And I'm sure I'll continue to find more, and will reblog any others that get created. I'm also a huuuuuge Alice fan (in case that's not abundantly obvious by now) and will stick around to reblog whatever Alice content I consumer and maybe even Peter content from time to time. I'll post a full series retrospective eventually, but I doubt it will be quite as comprehensive as these season metas because I think I've kind of covered a lot of the analytical ground by now!! But I still want to do my rankings and all that. All that to say: I'll be around. And I hope to continue to see some of you around too 🥰 Thanks for sticking with me.

#qots s5 #2021 rewatch #txt post #qots meta #season 5 retrospective #episode rankings #farewell beloved characters I shall miss thinking THIS level of profoundly about you every day #but I'm looking forward to becoming *slightly* more chill in my level of consumption of this show lol #I'll start my post-rewatch queue tomorrow #can't wait to see what the shuffle reveals lol

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