#Requiem for a Reality Show

[filmjunky-99]

d r a w n t o g e t h e r, 2004-07 📺 created by dave jeser, matt silverstein [requiem for a reality show, s1ep4] 'Put the Egg in the Bucket'

[goddessofvalyria]

DEATH | Martin (In the modern world) x fem!oc

As I saw Ewan Mitchell in the music video for Fontaines DC - In The Modern World, I obviously know that music video made us Tumblr girls write sooooooo much and I'm here for that.

Since you liked the previous part "Alive" (read here). I did the second part, the ending of their story.

English is not my first language, be kind and enjoy it <3

Summary: After Cassandra and Martin got together, their relationship was deep and full of love, but it also had a dark side. She still felt broken and lost, he was afraid of losing her and knew he couldn't live without his girlfriend. Sometimes love isn't enough to heal the pain.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, the fem!oc is named Cassandra with long wavy dark black hair and blue-purple eyes, kissing, sexual themes, dirty talking, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, masturbation (f and m receiving), SMUT, sex, heavy drug use and mention (their became addicted on cocaine and heroine, if you have watched/read "Requiem for a dream" and "Zoo station: the story of Christiane F." you know how this part is going to be hard to read), sadness, death.

This is my Masterlist

Words: 6800

After Cassandra and Martin got together, their relationship became something profound and intense, a bond forged in both love and darkness. Martin, who had once admired her from afar, now held her close, determined to protect her from the world that had already taken so much from her. But despite the love they shared, a shadow lingered over them, growing heavier with each passing day.

Cassandra was still broken, haunted by the demons that had pushed her to the edge. No matter how much Martin tried to fill the void, the pain inside her remained, gnawing at her soul. She turned to drugs to numb the agony—first cocaine, then heroin. The drugs offered her a brief escape, a momentary release from the turmoil within, but they also dragged her further into darkness.

Martin watched helplessly as Cassandra spiraled deeper into her addiction. She was often high, her eyes glazed over, her body trembling as the heroin coursed through her veins. The girl he loved was slipping away, lost in a haze of needles and powder. He couldn’t bear to see her in so much pain, and the thought of losing her terrified him. He had already killed for her, and now, he was willing to do anything to stay close to her, even if it meant destroying himself in the process.

One night, the weight of everything became too much for Martin to bear. He had watched Cassandra slipping further away, disappearing into a world of darkness that he couldn’t reach. The thought of losing her completely terrified him, and he knew that if he couldn’t save her, he had to at least understand her pain. He had to feel what she felt, even if it meant following her into the abyss.

As they lay in bed, the room dimly lit by the flicker of a single candle on the nightstand, Martin turned to Cassandra, his voice trembling with desperation. "Show me," he said, his eyes pleading. "Show me how to do it. I want to feel what you feel."

Cassandra’s gaze flickered with surprise, then something darker—resignation. She had always kept that part of her life separate from him, as if by doing so, she could protect him from the worst of it. But now, seeing the pain in his eyes, the resolve in his voice, she knew there was no turning back. If he was going to join her in this, she couldn’t stop him.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice soft but serious. "Once you start, there’s no going back."

Martin nodded, his heart pounding. "I need to understand, Cass. I need to be with you."

With a heavy sigh, Cassandra rolled out of bed and walked over to a small, hidden box she kept tucked away in the corner of the room. She opened it and took out a syringe, a spoon, a small bag of heroin, and a lighter. Martin watched her every move, his breath catching in his throat as the reality of what he was about to do sank in.

Cassandra returned to the bed, sitting beside him, her hands steady despite the turmoil in her heart. "Watch carefully," she instructed, her voice tinged with sadness. "I’ll show you how."

She placed the heroin on the spoon and held the lighter underneath, heating it until it dissolved into a liquid. Martin’s eyes followed the process, a mixture of fear and determination etched into his features. He couldn’t believe this was happening, but he couldn’t stop himself either.

Cassandra filled the syringe with the liquid, then turned to Martin, her expression softening. "Give me your arm," she said gently.

Martin hesitated for a moment before extending his arm, the veins standing out against his pale skin. Cassandra tied her hair elastic his upper arm, tightening it until a vein became prominent. She met his gaze, her eyes searching his one last time for any sign of doubt.

"You don’t have to do this," she whispered, her voice wavering. "We can still stop."

But Martin shook his head, his resolve unbroken. "I’m with you, Cass. I need to do this. I need to feel what you feel"

Nodding slowly, Cassandra carefully inserted the needle into his vein and pushed the plunger, releasing the heroin into his bloodstream. The sensation was immediate—an overwhelming warmth spreading through his body, followed by a wave of euphoria that left him breathless. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, a powerful escape from the reality he had been drowning in.

Cassandra prepared a second dose for herself, and as she injected it, their eyes met. There was no need for words; they both understood what this meant, what they were becoming together.

As the drug took hold, they lay back on the bed, their bodies entwined, the world outside fading into a distant blur. Time lost its meaning, and the only reality was the warmth of each other’s touch, the shared high that seemed to erase all the pain, all the fear. For a brief, shining moment, nothing else mattered.

Martin turned to Cassandra, his voice slurred but filled with a strange sort of peace. "I get it now," he murmured. "I understand why you do this."

Cassandra smiled sadly, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "It helps… for a while. But it’s not real, Martin. It’s just an escape."

"I don’t care," he whispered, pulling her closer. "As long as I’m with you."

As the haze of the heroin settled over them, Martin turned to Cassandra, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear, longing, and something darker—possessiveness. The world outside their small cocoon felt distant, almost unreal, and all that mattered was the woman lying beside him.

He reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. Then, without a word, Martin leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a slow, intense kiss.

The kiss was different this time—deeper, more desperate, as if he were trying to pour all of his emotions into that one act. He could taste the faint residue of the cocaine on her lips, mingling with the saltiness of unshed tears. Pulling back just slightly, his breath warm against her skin, he whispered, "I love you, Cassandra. I’ve always loved you."

His voice was raw, filled with a vulnerability that he rarely let show. He pressed his forehead against hers, his lips barely grazing her ear as he continued, "You’re mine, Cass. You’ve always been mine, and I’m never letting you go."

Cassandra’s eyes glistened with emotion, her hand coming up to rest against his chest. She could feel the rapid beating of his heart beneath her palm, matching her own. The intensity of his words sent a shiver down her spine, a mix of fear and comfort in his possessive declaration.

"I’m yours," she whispered back, her voice barely audible. "I’ve always been yours, Martin."

With that, she kissed him again, her hands tangling in his hair as if to anchor herself to him, to the only person who understood her darkness and didn’t shy away. The kiss deepened, growing more passionate, more intense, as if they were trying to merge

They stayed like that for hours, lost in each other and the high, the outside world nothing more than a distant memory. They talked, sharing their deepest fears and regrets, things they had never spoken aloud before. The drugs made them feel safe, invincible, as if nothing could touch them in that moment.

But as the high began to fade, reality crept back in, bringing with it the darkness they had tried so hard to escape. They knew it wouldn’t last, that the relief was temporary, but it didn’t matter. All they had was each other, and as long as they could keep that, they were willing to fall deeper into the void.

Together, they had crossed a line, and there was no turning back. They were bound to each other in a way that went beyond love, beyond reason—two lost souls, clinging to one another as they drifted further into the abyss.

As they lay in bed one afternoon, the sun barely filtering through the heavy curtains, Cassandra turned to him, her voice slurred from the heroin. "Do you ever think about what we used to be?" she asked, her eyes searching his face as if looking for a trace of the boy she once knew.

Martin stared at the ceiling, his thoughts slow and muddled. "All the time," he admitted, his voice hoarse. "I remember how you were… so full of life, so bright. I always wondered what it would be like to be close to you, the prettiest girl I've ever seen in all my life."

Cassandra let out a soft, bitter laugh. "I’m not that girl anymore, Martin. She’s gone. Maybe she was never real to begin with."

"She was real" Martin insisted, turning his head to look at her. "You were real. You still are."

She shook her head, her lips trembling as tears welled up in her eyes. "I don’t even know who I am anymore. This… this isn’t living. We’re just existing, waiting for the next high, the next escape."

Martin reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But we’re together, Cass. That’s what matters."

Cassandra’s gaze softened, but there was a deep sadness in her eyes. "You shouldn’t have followed me into this" she whispered, her voice thick with guilt. "I’m dragging you down with me, I'm killing you, my love."

"I’d rather be down here with you than up there alone" Martin said, his voice firm. "I can’t lose you. I won’t."

They fell into silence, the weight of their words hanging between them. The music playing in the background seemed distant, the lyrics a haunting reminder of the life they once had.

Later that night, after another hit, Cassandra leaned against Martin, her head resting on his shoulder as they listened to the soft strains of a melancholic song. "Do you think there’s any way out of this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Martin hesitated, unsure of what to say. He wanted to believe there was, that they could somehow claw their way out of the darkness together, but deep down, he knew the truth. "I don’t know," he finally said, his voice quiet.

Cassandra smiled weakly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "I’m scared, Martin. I don’t want to lose you. You are all I have."

"You won’t," he promised, his arms tightening around her. "I am yours and you are mine."

But as the days turned into nights, and the drugs continued to pull them under, the hope in Martin’s voice became harder to believe. They spent their days lying in bed, talking about their lives, their fears, and their dreams, but always with the shadow of their addiction looming over them.

"We could just run away" Cassandra said one morning, her voice filled with a fleeting sense of hope. "Leave everything behind, start fresh somewhere else."

Martin looked at her, his heart aching at the desperation in her voice. "And go where? We can’t outrun this, Cass. It’ll follow us wherever we go."

She sighed, the momentary hope fading. "I know… we're fucked up."

"You're so beautiful" Martin whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You're the only one who's ever loved me,” she said, caressing his face.

But even as he said the words, he knew they were slipping further and further away from the life they once knew, from the people they once were. All they had left was each other, and even that was slowly being consumed by the darkness.

The next day, as the first light of dawn filtered through the heavy curtains, Cassandra and Martin lay in bed, their bodies intertwined beneath the sheets. The remnants of the night before still lingered in the air—the scent of sweat, the faint hint of blood, and the unmistakable presence of the drugs that had dulled their pain, if only for a little while. The world outside felt distant and unreal, as if they were suspended in a place where time didn’t exist.

Cassandra’s gaze was distant as she stared at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting to places she didn’t want to go. After a long silence, she spoke, her voice soft and filled with a quiet despair. "There is something terrible in reality, and I don’t know what it is" she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Why do I always need others?"

Martin turned his head to look at her, his heart aching at the vulnerability in her voice. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "You’re not alone, Cass," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "I’m here with you. You don’t have to face it by yourself."

Cassandra shook her head, her fingers tracing the lines of his face, the stubble on his jaw, the curve of his lips. "If I were to leave and never come back," she murmured, her voice tinged with a mix of fear and longing, "I would take you with me too. And yes, because now you are part of me… that is, of what I have around me."

Her fingers moved up to caress his black hair, and Martin closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. He felt the warmth of her hand against his skin, the tenderness in her gesture. It was as if she was trying to memorize every part of him, to hold onto him as tightly as she could, even as everything else seemed to be slipping away.

Martin opened his eyes and looked at her, his gaze intense. "You don’t have to go anywhere," he whispered before leaning in to kiss her, his lips brushing against hers with a gentleness that belied the storm of emotions inside him. "I need you, Cass," he murmured against her lips, his voice filled with raw honesty. "I don’t know how to be without you."

Cassandra sighed, her breath warm against his skin. "And I need you," she whispered back, her voice trembling slightly. "But sometimes, I feel like I’m drowning… and I don’t want to pull you down with me."

Martin’s hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down her face. "We’ll face it together," he promised, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his heart. "Whatever happens, whatever this is… we’ll face it together. You’re not pulling me down. We’re holding each other up."

Cassandra’s heart swelled with emotion, and she leaned in, capturing his lips in a deeper kiss, one filled with all the unspoken words, the fears, and the love they shared. The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as if they were both afraid of what would happen if they let themselves feel too much. But as the moments passed, the intensity grew, their caresses becoming more urgent, more desperate.

Martin’s hands roamed over her body, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingers, while Cassandra’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. Their breaths became shallow, their hearts pounding in unison as they lost themselves in each other.

"I’m here," Martin whispered against her lips, his voice rough with emotion. "I’m not going anywhere."

Cassandra responded by deepening the kiss, her body arching against his as the desire between them became impossible to ignore. The warmth of his touch, the way his lips moved against hers—it was all she needed in that moment, all she wanted. The fear, the pain, the darkness—they all faded away, leaving only the two of them, connected in a way that went beyond words.

Their movements became more urgent, their hands exploring, their breaths mingling as the intensity of their desire grew. Martin’s kisses trailed down her neck, and Cassandra gasped, her fingers clutching at his shoulders as he pulled her closer. The heat between them was overwhelming, and soon, they were lost in the rhythm of their bodies, the world outside forgotten as they gave in to the passion that had been building between them.

Martin’s breath quickened as he urgently pulled Cassandra closer, his hands trembling slightly as he grasped the hem of the t-shirt she wore—a t-shirt she had stolen from one of his drawers, a piece of him that she had claimed as her own. With one swift motion, he pulled it over her head, exposing her smooth, scented skin to the cool air. The sight of her, so vulnerable and beautiful, made his heart race.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to her collarbone, trailing soft kisses down her chest, inhaling the familiar scent of her skin, a mix of her perfume and something uniquely hers. His hands moved lower, finding the waistband of her panties, his voice a low murmur as he whispered against her skin, "Lift your hips, darling."

Cassandra complied, her breath hitching as she arched her hips off the bed, giving him the space to slide her panties down her legs. The intimate act made her shiver with anticipation, and a soft moan escaped her lips as Martin tossed the fabric aside, his blue eyes dark with desire as they roamed over her body.

Unable to resist the temptation, Cassandra reached up, her lips finding the sensitive spot on his neck. She kissed him there, her mouth hot against his skin, her breath ragged with need. "I want you to feel good" she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "I want you to be mine."

With a sudden burst of confidence, she pushed him back onto the bed, reversing their positions. She straddled him, her hands moving to the waistband of his boxers, sliding them off with a deliberate slowness that made his pulse quicken. As she freed him from the last barrier between them, she let her own remaining clothing fall away, leaving her naked above him, her body illuminated by the soft morning light that filtered through the curtains.

Martin’s breath caught in his throat as he looked up at her, his hands instinctively reaching out to trace the curves of her body. But Cassandra wasn’t done. She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his chest, her kisses growing more insistent as she moved lower. Her hair cascaded over his skin, sending shivers down his spine as she continued her descent, her mouth leaving a trail of heat wherever it touched.

Every kiss, every touch, was filled with a desperate need to connect, to claim one another in a way that words could never fully express. When she finally looked up at him, her eyes burning with desire, Martin felt like he was falling, losing himself in the depths of her gaze.

"I’m yours, Cass" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Always."

Cassandra’s response was immediate—she kissed him fiercely, their lips crashing together with a passion that had been building for far too long. Their bodies moved in sync, the rhythm of their love-making intense and all-consuming. Each touch, each gasp, each whispered word was a testament to the deep, complicated love they shared—a love that was as beautiful as it was destructive.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the darkness that loomed over them, not the pain that threatened to tear them apart. All that existed was the here and now, the feeling of being completely and utterly consumed by each other.

She slowly moved down with kisses, kissed him on his chest, then on his abdomen and then on to his long veiny cock. She began to caress him, feeling his breathing accelerate, Martin closed his eyes, but then opened them again. He wanted to look at her, eat her with his gaze, imprint her every movement in his mind. Cassandra lowered herself to lick him along his shaft and then wrapped him between her lips and began to suck him.

Martin grabbed her by the hair to make her movements easier, moaning and enjoying that sensation, of feeling her wet lips, aware that she was driving him crazy. "My good girl" he whined. She also caressed him with her hand and the more she concentrated on him, the more the mere thought of seeing him helpless under her touch excited her. They looked straight into each other's eyes, she wanted him terribly. Martin knew he couldn't resist for long, he wanted to come between her lips again like the night before, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. He wanted her, he wanted her all for himself.

The thought of taking her, there in that bed was driving him crazy as well as the idea of ​​having her in his hands and touching her only as he knew how, driving her crazy with every single touch.

He knew her body, he knew how her skin reacted to his fingers, to his caresses and kisses.

"Come here" he whispered lost in pleasure, she looked up and with a last lick she pulled away from him. "Did you like it?" she asked. "I like everything you do to me" he whispered, he grabbed her in his hands, tortured her nipples, kissed them, sucked them to make them more sensitive, licked her breasts.

"I need to feel something" she whispered lying on the bed, Martin went from kissing her lips to her neck, between her breasts, on her abdomen and then on her pussy. He opened her legs, she was so excited that it was dripping between her crotches.

"I need to feel you mine" she put a hand in his hair, he grabbed her by the thighs opening her with two fingers and then licked her. "You are breathtaking, you are mine, mine and mine only" he whispered giving her a kiss there.

He looked into her eyes, rose a little and soon he spat on her pussy, making her shiver. She had liked it. "My love" Cassandra whispered, feeling his tongue licking her between her soaking wet folds, his nose pressing on her clit, his tongue sliding into her slit fucking her deep inside. Cassandra moaned, arching her back, finding herself begging him, her hands clenched in her thick black hair.

"My love" Martin whispered, kissing her on the inside of her thigh. "My love, my love, my love" with his thumb he began to tease her clit, Cassandra's legs trembled as her pussy began to tighten around his fingers. Martin buried his face between her thighs again, he resumed licking her greedily until she came on his tongue, the orgasm shook her so much that he held her still.

"I want to make love to you" Martin whispered, his face resting on her pussy. "I want to make love to you for the rest of my life, my love."

Martin stood on her, towering over her with his body, perfect, slender and trained. She, beautiful to the point of pain: thick and long eyelashes, deep blue-violet eyes, capable of digging into his soul, were those of his beloved, illuminated by a deep love and a dangerous darkness. She sat up and touched him in every inch of his body: the defined muscles, the back, even the soft hair. She leaned forward kissing him on the lips, when they parted a trickle of saliva joined their lips. "I want to feel your skin against mine" Cassandra whispered looking at Martin. "I want to feel only what you can give me so well" And then she felt the hard erection, hot and humid, heavy, pressing against the inside of her thigh. She bit her lips excited, Martin took her hips helping her and entered her while they still had their lips glued together and they were moaning into each other's mouths. Taking her by the hips he helped her move and increased the pace of his thrusts, eliciting moans of pleasure from both of them. She pressed herself against him.

"My love, my love, my love" she whispered with each thrust, feeling that deep feeling that only he was able to give her. "You're mine, you're mine, mine, mine, mine, only mine" Martin whispered, pushing himself into her, their hands intertwined and their lips consumed with each kiss. Cassandra's body moved with each thrust, she trembled with excitement and melted under her lover's hands, it was all stronger than a drug. Martin loved her with all of himself and now that he could have her all to himself, it seemed that time was no longer enough.

"You're the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to me" Cassandra whispered between one kiss and the next, Martin rested his forehead against hers. "You are the only beautiful thing in my life" he gave her a stronger push, then turned her on her stomach on the mattress. "Like this, from behind?" he whispered perversely in her ear, gathering her hair in one thing.

"Yes, my love" she turned her face to look at him, Martin pinned her to the mattress with his body and only lifted her hips, leaving her ass in the air. "How beautiful you are when you are submissive to me" Cassandra smiled, but her smile soon turned into a grimace of pleasure when he opened her thighs and buried his face between them, eating her from behind.

Cassandra grabbed the sheets with her hands, felt her boyfriend's tongue fucking her opening and moaned writhing. "My good girl" Martin whispered caressing her back with his hands, placing kisses all over her scented skin. "You're so wet" he whispered, feeling her intimate area again with two fingers. "And you're mine" in an unexpected gesture he spanked her, she laughed, she liked it.

"Do it again" Cassandra whispered and this time, Martin left his hand imprinted on her skin and with the other he guided his cock inside her, fucking her from behind. She was hot, wet and tight around him. He lowered himself so much that he could turn her face and kiss her, Cassandra pushed herself with her hips against his cock, Martin grabbed her hips, he heard her moan, pant his name and shortly after, when she was about to come he turned her on her back, penetrated her again and while she was dying in the spasms of another orgasm. He fucked her again and again with love. He grabbed her by the thighs and let himself come inside her, filling her.

Martin collapsed in his arms, Cassandra held him between them. He rested his face on her breast, kissing her and breathing in her scent. "You're my whole life, you're my whole fucking life," he whispered against her. "I'm yours and you're mine" Cassandra whispered, stroking his hair.

As they made love, it wasn’t just about the physical connection—it was about holding on to each other, about finding solace in each other’s arms. They moved together, their bodies fitting perfectly, as if they were made for this, for each other. And in that moment, everything else faded away—there was no darkness, no fear, no pain. There was only them, together, holding on to each other in the only way they knew how.

Afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets, their bodies still pressed close, their breaths slowing as the intensity of the moment began to fade. Martin held Cassandra tightly, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin as they lay in silence, the weight of their reality settling back in. But for now, in the aftermath of their shared intimacy, they found a brief respite from the darkness that surrounded them—a moment of peace in a world that felt increasingly chaotic and uncertain.

"I love you, Cass" Martin whispered, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "No matter what happens, I’m here."

Cassandra nodded, her head resting against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "I love you too, Martin," she whispered back, her voice soft but full of emotion. "I just hope that’s enough."

Cassandra lay beside Martin, her head resting on his chest as they caught their breath, their bodies still entwined beneath the sheets. The weight of their love, of everything they had been through, hung in the air, a mix of sorrow and something achingly sweet.

Martin reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a pack of cigarettes. He lit one, taking a deep drag before passing it to Cassandra. She took it from him, her fingers brushing against his as she brought it to her lips. They lay there in the quiet, the smoke curling upward in lazy spirals, the only sound the soft crackle of burning tobacco and their steady, slowing breaths.

As Cassandra exhaled, she turned to look at Martin, her eyes soft but filled with a deep, unspoken sadness. She held the cigarette between her fingers, watching the embers glow in the dim light. "Martin" she whispered, her voice barely audible, "let's do it again. Let's get high, just one more time. Together."

Martin looked at her, his heart heavy with a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite untangle. He knew what she was asking, knew the darkness they were teetering on the edge of. But he also knew that he couldn’t say no—not to her, not when she looked at him like that, as if he were her last lifeline in a world that had already taken too much from her.

"Alright" he murmured, his voice thick with resignation. "One more time, my love."

She smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Together, they prepared the drugs and then they injected the heroin each other in silence, their hands trembling just slightly as the drug coursed through their veins, bringing with it the sweet, numbing relief they both craved.

As the high took hold, Cassandra turned to Martin, her movements slow and dreamlike. She kissed him softly, her lips barely brushing against his, as if she were afraid to break the fragile moment. He kissed her back, his hands gently cradling her face, their breaths mingling in the dim light.

They lay back down, their bodies entwined, their hearts slowing as the heroin dulled the edges of their reality. The world around them faded, the pain and fear slipping away, leaving only the warmth of each other’s embrace.

Lying on the bed, their bodies still warm from the afterglow and the drugs beginning to weave their hazy spell, Cassandra and Martin found themselves in the vulnerable space where their deepest secrets, long buried under layers of pain and pretense, could no longer be hidden.

Cassandra’s gaze was unfocused, her eyes glassy as she stared at the ceiling. The heroin dulled the sharp edges of her thoughts, making it easier to speak, to let out the words that had been trapped inside her for so long. She turned her head slightly to look at Martin, her voice a soft, trembling whisper.

"Martin… there’s something I need to tell you. About who I really am… who I was." She hesitated, the words caught in her throat. "The perfect girl you knew in school… that wasn’t me. It was just a mask I wore, a way to survive."

Martin’s brow furrowed as he listened, his heart tightening at the vulnerability in her voice. He reached out, taking her hand in his, silently urging her to continue.

"My childhood was…" Cassandra’s voice cracked, and she swallowed hard before continuing. "It was a nightmare, Martin. My parents—they were never there for me, not really. My father was always away, and when he was home, he was… cruel. My mother, she just pretended everything was fine, like we were the perfect family. But behind closed doors, it was hell. I learned to pretend, to be the good daughter, the smart, popular girl, because it was the only way I knew to keep everything from falling apart."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke, her voice shaking with the weight of her confession. "But inside, I was always broken. I didn’t let anyone see that part of me—not my friends, not anyone. I was so scared of being abandoned, of being hurt even more. So, I wore that mask, and I convinced everyone that I was fine… that I was perfect."

Martin’s heart ached as he listened to her words, realizing just how much she had been hiding, how deeply her pain ran. He tightened his grip on her hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

"Cass… I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I had no idea… I always thought you were so strong, so perfect. But I should have seen the pain behind your eyes. I should have known."

Cassandra shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. "No, Martin… you couldn’t have known. I didn’t let anyone close enough to see. Not even you. And that’s something I regret more than anything."

She took a deep breath, her gaze locking onto his. "I regret not noticing you, Martin. You were always there, always kind and sweet, and I was too blinded by my own pain to see you. I wish I had seen you sooner."

Martin’s eyes softened, his heart swelling with a mix of love and sorrow. "Cass, I’ve loved you for so long… even when we barely knew each other, even when you didn’t see me. I loved you. I love you."

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep, tender kiss, pouring all of his emotions into that single act. Cassandra kissed him back with equal intensity, her hands cupping his face as if she were trying to hold onto this moment, to make it last forever.

When they finally pulled apart, Martin rested his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her skin. "I love you so much, Cassandra," he whispered, his voice trembling. "And I always will."

Cassandra’s eyes shone with tears, but she smiled through them, her heart full despite the sadness that lingered. "I love you too, Martin. I’m so sorry it took me this long to say it, to really mean it… but I do. I love you with everything I have."

"I love you, my love" Martin whispered, his voice slurred, heavy with the drug’s effect.

"I love you too, my love" Cassandra replied, her words thick and drowsy. She nestled closer to him, their limbs tangled together, seeking comfort in the only place they had ever truly felt safe—in each other’s arms.

As they lay side by side, the silence between them thick with unspoken words, Martin knew it was his turn to let the darkness inside him out. He looked at Cassandra, her tear-streaked face still beautiful even in her pain, and felt the weight of his own past pressing down on him. It was time to tell her everything, to strip away the last of the walls he’d built around himself.

"Cass, my love" he began, his voice low and unsteady, "There’s something I’ve never told you… about my life, about who I really am."

Cassandra turned her head to look at him, her eyes soft with understanding and a silent invitation for him to continue. She squeezed his hand gently, urging him to speak.

"My life wasn’t much better" he confessed, his voice heavy with the burden of his memories. "I grew up in a broken home, too. My dad left when I was little, and my mom… she was never really there. She drank to forget, to escape whatever demons were haunting her. And I was just… there. Alone."

He paused, the memories flooding back, sharp and painful even after all these years. "I didn’t have anyone, Cass. No friends, no family who cared. I was just this pathetic, invisible kid trying to survive. I tried to escape it all, to find some way to deal with the loneliness, the anger… the emptiness. But nothing worked. Not until I started selling drugs."

Cassandra’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t pull away. She stayed close, her presence a silent reassurance that she was there, listening, understanding.

"I never wanted this life" Martin continued, his voice cracking. "But it’s the only thing I knew how to do. It was the only way I could make money, keep a roof over my head, keep going. I hated it, every single second of it, but I didn’t know how to stop. It’s like I was trapped in this cycle, and every time I thought I could break free, something pulled me back down."

His gaze dropped to their intertwined hands, and his voice softened, filled with a deep, aching sadness. "And then you came back into my life, Cass. You were the most beautiful thing in my pathetic existence. Seeing you again… it was like a lifeline. But I was so scared that I’d lose you, that you’d see me for what I really am—a loser who’s never been able to escape his demons."

Cassandra’s heart broke as she listened to Martin, her own pain mirrored in his words. She could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he was baring his soul to her, and it made her love him even more.

"You’re not a loser, Martin" she whispered, her voice filled with conviction. "You’ve been through so much, and you’re still here. You survived, and that takes strength. You’re not pathetic… you’re strong, and you’re kind, and you’re everything I could ever want."

Martin looked at her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I’m so scared, Cass" he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Scared of losing you, scared of what I’ve become. But when I’m with you… it’s like none of that matters. You make me feel like I’m worth something."

Cassandra leaned in, her lips brushing against his, the tenderness of the moment overwhelming. "You are worth everything to me, Martin," she whispered against his mouth. "I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone. And I’m not going anywhere. I'm your and you're mine"

Martin’s heart swelled with emotion, and he kissed her deeply, pouring all of his love, his fear, and his longing into that single act. "I love you, Cassandra" he whispered between kisses, his voice trembling with the intensity of his feelings. "I always have, and I always will in live and death"

"I love you too, Martin, in live and in death" Cassandra replied, her voice breaking with emotion.

Their kiss deepened, filled with a desperation that spoke of all the time they had lost, all the pain they had endured. As their lips moved together, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them, bound together by love and shared suffering. In each other’s arms, they found a moment of peace, a brief respite from the chaos that had defined their lives.

And for that fleeting moment, nothing else mattered.

They kissed again and again with kisses filled with both passion and an aching tenderness, as if they were trying to make up for all the lost time, for all the pain and missed chances. In that kiss, they found a connection that went beyond words, a bond that was both heartbreaking and beautiful.

As they lay back down, their fingers intertwined, they held each other close, their breaths slowly synchronizing as the drugs continued to pull them into a deeper, dreamlike state. They clung to each other, the confessions of love still echoing in the air, knowing that whatever came next, they were together.

And that, in the end, was all that mattered.

As the high deepened, their breaths grew slower, shallower, their eyes fluttering closed as they drifted off into a sleep that they would never wake from.

The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of their final breaths, their hearts beating their last, slow rhythm in perfect unison.

And then, silence.

They overdosed.

Cassandra and Martin lay together, their bodies still entwined, their faces peaceful as they slipped away, carried off by the very thing that had brought them together.

In death, they found the escape they had been searching for—a final, tragic peace, forever bound to each other in the darkness they could never quite escape in life, in that damn modern world.

"I feel alive in the city 

that you like 

and wait for the day to go dreaming 

right by 

seems so hard not to be free 

when you walk right beside me 

in the modern world".

A fact about these quotes in the one-shots:

"There is something terrible in reality, and I don’t know what it is"

"Why do I always need others?"

"If I were to leave and never come back,"

"I would take you with me too. And yes, because now you are part of me… that is, of what I have around me."

They are are from an Italian psychological drama film from 60s film called "The red desert".

[tokiwarcube]

Dating Charles hc? 👀 Sfw & nsfw both fine by me 🖤

Hell yeah! Pre-Requiem SFW below the cut, NS/FW to follow in a separate post <3

Nathan HERE ; Pickles HERE ; Toki HERE ; Skwisgaar HERE ; Murderface HERE

Despite the “robot” label he’s been saddled with over the years, Charles is a very caring man. He’s romantic in a way that makes all of your rose-tinted teenage dreams a daily reality. And sure, he might not always have time for extravagant dates, but he’s tender in a way that smooths it over so naturally that you really couldn’t imagine spending time with him any other way.

Many of your nights are spent together in his office, sipping scotch to the quiet hum of classic rock as the two of you clean up whatever mess the boys have made this time. Quiet conversation weaves its way naturally into the scratching of pen on paper, easy and fluid as all things seem to be with him.

And while he is, functionally, always on call… Charles very much treasures the hours of the weekend he gets to spend with you.

Whether he’s taking you out to dinner or studying the pieces at your local art museum, Charles will usually be on his feet with you for the weekends unless you reel him in. Believe me, there’s nothing he loves more than relaxing at home with you with the lights turned low… but frankly, the man forgets that he can actually do that sometimes. Workaholic habits die hard.

And despite being around it all the time, Charles still loves live music. Take this man out to a show or two, you won’t regret it.

Just… don’t take him on the dance floor. Ever. He talks big game, but he has zero sense of rhythm. The ‘57 Gibson Les Paul hanging on his wall is purely for decoration, he cannot play it by pure virtue of the fact that he couldn’t catch a beat if it smacked him in the face. Don’t let him fool you.

Charles isn’t a very cuddly man, but that isn’t to say he’s not sweet. He loves placing little kisses to the inside of your wrist when alone, in particular.

Although if you have the urge to card your hands through his hair after hours while he works on a few deals, or loosen the tension in his shoulders… he certainly isn’t complaining.

When he’s drunk though… very, very clingy.

Even while sober though, he does have a bit of a fascination with your hands, just in general. You’ll often catch him watching your movements while you type, or fiddle with a pen. And it’s no surprise that, left unguarded, he’s prone to toying with your fingers a bit. It’s almost subconscious, really.

Charles has a fantastic memory, and he uses this to his advantage often. He’s always got you in the back of his mind, and he’s rather liberal about texting you when something reminds him of you.

[1 Attachment] Isn’t this from that show that you like?

That being said, gift giving is one of his bigger love languages, and he always seems to find the perfect thing. He has some preternatural gift for finding things that nobody else can.

He’s a fan of the classics, in many regards. Holding doors, pulling out chairs, flowers… he does it without thinking, really. Although, he won’t complain if you do the same for him. Makes him quite soft.

Least jealous man this side of the hemisphere. He completely trusts your loyalty and ability to assert yourself, no questions asked. And if there’s someone that’s not taking no for an answer? That is harassment, and they’ll be dealt with shortly. Props of always having a Klokateer around the corner, I suppose. (He’s a very vigilant man in general, actually. You always feel safe when you’re out in public with him, and its not just because of the armed guards that linger in your shadows.)

He keeps a photo of you in his wallet — a little polaroid that Toki had taken after you gifted him a polaroid for Christmas one year, tucked just behind his ID.

He keeps you as his lockscreen, too. Whenever he gets a smidge too stressed in the office, he’ll pull out his phone in a “do it for them” type move. It always works.

He takes your words very seriously — you always feel heard when you talk to him. He’s a fantastic communicator, and most problems are resolved fairly quick.

He loves hearing your voice, and if you’re in a position where you can do such a thing, he loves to just call for a little while. Just to hear you speak.

For as much as he preaches about getting 8 hours of sleep per night, he’s rather shit at following that rule. He might acquiesce if you ask him sweetly enough to please come to bed… although you might have a bit more luck if you plop yourself in his lap, instead. He gets so vigilant about not waking you up on accident that he eventually just gives up and carries you to bed with him.

And despite not being the cuddliest man during the day, he almost always has a hand on you in the night.

He’s an early riser by habit — a morning person by necessity, not by nature, as he says — but don’t think you’re getting out of bed before him. A bleary eyed and whiny Charles is a sight for sore eyes, truly.

He does have a certain set of routines that he follows to a tee, one of which is bringing you coffee in the morning. He likes to sit on the edge of the bed, sipping from his own mug as he gently runs his free hand up and down your spine. For a moment, the world is quiet — peaceful.

[readychilledwine]

Requiem for a Dream

Part 3: Change

(Two months into Rhysand's Return home)

Rhysand and Rhiannon are still walking around their sexual tension, but our high lord has finally decided enough is enough. After a month of lingering touching, glances, and true re-courtship, he wants his mate in his bed.

Warnings - Smut, NSFW, D/S dynamics (daddy/Princess and sex slave/master) ownership kink, praise kink, oral (F Recv), not edited. Minors- DNI

A/N - This is kind of that last step before the peak of Rhys, in reality, reclaiming his sexual being, which is a journey a lot of SA survivors go through. While everyone's journey is different and models different patterns, I felt Rhysand's NEEDED to show aspects of regaining domination and control, and I do not feel that was truly shown or touched on by SJM.

Rhiannon's character, at this point, may not be for everyone. She is very submissive due to her own trauma and back story I crafted for her. Let me know your thoughts, feelings, if you want more, have gripes. Also, the song in mind is "Change (In the House of Flies)" by Deftones. The theme to one of my absolute favorite movie sex scenes in history.

Author ps - as an active member of the kink scene, I see festish written on here, but it never comes with this warning and when we do not know who is reading our stories, I feel like it needs to be said.

Please DO NOT ENGAGE IN BDSM with a partner you do not fully trust. BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, all varieties, and sex in general need to be based on trust and the care for each other's emotional well-being. You all deserve the best, give yourselves the ability to have that 💜 love yourself enough to WANT and NEED to have that.

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Part One Part Two Part Four

Rhys had convinced Rhiannon to join him for dinner alone in the River House. They ate in silence, hands held over the table. They were dressed casually. She was wearing a dark plum sweater that went down to her mid thigh, tight black leggings and fuzzy socks. Rhysand had on a cream sweater with casual pants.

He had asked the twins to make her favorite meal. Elk steaks, potatoes with gravy, greens, and homemade bread and butter. He had personally flown into Velaris, arriving at a sweet shop his mate absolutely loves, asking if they had her favorite cupcakes available that day. They had made them for him, without hesitation as he did some other shopping for her. She was eyeing them with a sparkle he had not seen from her since his arrival home. But after all, what female could possibly resist the imported vanilla and sea salt caramel this bakery used.

"When were you going to call on the bargain with Feyre? I'm worried about her powers eating her alive." Rhys looked at Rhiannon. "He won't train her. She needs to be with someone who will."

Rhys nodded. "I assume the realm gave you that information?" She nodded. "I would like to ensure my own home and court are on a stable foundation before bringing her here."

Rhiannon was no fool. She knew immediately what he meant. She gently put her silverware down, turning to look at her husband. "I did not realize there were issues in the foundation. Is something wrong in the court?"

Rhysand sighed. He wouldn't be able to woo her now. This conversation was happening, and it was happening much sooner than he anticipated for the night. "Not necessarily with the court itself. I worry more about my family and Inner Circle." Rhys paused to turn to her, "My wife hasn't kissed me since I arrived home, despite many chances and opportunities to do so. I keep attempting to recourt her with countless gifts, praise, and flirtation, but I just cannot seem to bring her into my bed." Rhys paused to watch her look down. "You are my most trusted advisor when it comes to Illyrian Females, Rhiannon. Do you have any suggestions on how I can get my wife to be close to me again?"

Rhiannon put her silverware down, clearing her throat before responding. "Is she possibly afraid that reciprocating your affections may hurt you or the progress you've made?"

Rhysand smirked, finally getting the answers he needed. "I would not know," he laced their fingers together. "Aside from asking me how my day was, doing her duties to fill me in on her assignments, and small conversations, she has all but closed me out. I know she loves me. I just worry that maybe I am not doing enough to show her I would like to begin the process of us going back to who we are."

Rhiannon felt tears lining her eyes. "I know you still have nightmares about her, Rhys. I just feel like sleeping with you, touching you, or even kissing you is retraumatizing you. I love you too much to risk hurting you emotionally and mentally."

He nodded, taking a sip of his wine before beginning to speak to her. "I appreciate how much you care. I have always loved your empathy and kindness, darling. I want to sleep with you at my side, though. I want to hold you. To kiss you. To fuck you until I cannot tell where you stop and I begin." He took another deep drink. "I am ready to try, my nightingale. I need to try. Madja believes I am ready. I believe I am ready. Please, Rhiannon, come to bed with me tonight."

She nodded. "And we will stop if it is too much?" He sent her confirmation down the bond. "Mor made me wear something pretty under this for you. Just in case." His ears perked up at that. He took her hand, dinner long forgotten, and pulled her to their large bedroom.

Rhysand took the chair that sat across from their bed, leaning forward on his elbows as Rhiannon stood close to him. "Take your clothing off." Her scent hit him immediately. The sweet scent of her arousal mixed with the normal soft smell of moonflowers and honey. He watched, eyes fixated on every inch of slowly exposed skin as her sweater was removed and set on the desk near them.

She went to remove her leggings next after he gave her a nod, exposing her muscled thighs to him first. He groaned loudly at the sight of her mating mark. The delicate pattern of swirls and stars that ran the expanse of her leg, mapping out the night sky at the exact time they accepted the bond.

Mor had picked a wonderful little set for her to wear. A black haltered bra made of strictly lace and mesh that left nothing to his imagination, a matching high waist thong, and stockings that stopped at her midthigh. He patted his lap, leaning back as she crawled to straddle him.

They studied each other for a few seconds. His fingers ghosting the new muscles she had earned while training with Cassian, then her pretty throat, then her breasts and stomach, before reaching her panty line. "Mate, please." The bond was banging like a war drum in both of their ribcages, right where it connected their hearts. "Rhysand, please."

He pulled her to him, locking their lips for the first time in 50 years and moaning at the taste of her. It was exactly how he remembered, yet so different. Her lips were soft on his, tasting faintly of the sweet red wine she had been drinking. The bond began to almost hum, begging for more.

She fully submitted to him, allowing him to control the pace and pressure. One of his arms quickly wrapped around her hourglass waist while the other went up her back, allowing his hand to tangle into her hair.

It was a familiar position to them. One they had been caught in countless times by Azriel, by Cassian, by his mother. He almost smiled, remembering the first time Azriel had walked in on Rhysand pounding into his sister while she moaned and cried for him. Every single punch of the absolute beating her older brother had given him that day was worth it. Every single punch Azriel still gave him was worth it.

Their first time seemed so distant now as he pulled away from her, lifting her and carrying her to their marriage bed, kissing her throat, and whispered praise into her soft skin. He laid her gently down and sat on his knees between her legs.

Her dark hair was spread out in every direction, her pupils slightly dilated as she began to enter the part of her mind and behavior only he had the pleasure of seeing. Her lips were swollen, bringing out the soft blush they naturally had even more. He ran his thumb down them, smiling as she immediately opened her mouth and began to suck the digit, looking at him with her wide eyes.

"Such a beautiful little treat, aren't you, darling?" He pulled his thumb from her lips, "You're dripping already. Daddy wants to have his favorite dessert. Is that okay with his princess?" She whined, her back arching slightly off the bed. "Words, my darling. Daddy asked you a question."

She looked up at him, wide eyed. "Please Daddy. Need you. I'll be a good girl." Her submission had him ripping his own shirt off and removing his pants with speed he hardly knew he still had in him as he pulled her to the edge of the bed and dropped to his knees to be closer to her dripping cunt.

"I wanted to take my time with you, worship you and this body of yours, but I fear I just do not have the patience for all of that today." He misted the now offensive lace from her body, leaving only the thigh highs and growled at the sight before him. "Such a pretty cunt, Rhiannon. Who does she belong to?"

Rhiannon was already breathing heavily. "You. I am yours."

He growled, throwing her legs over his shoulder. "Good girl." Without warning Rhys began his assault. Licking long stripes from her leaking hole the the apex of her thighs. He drank from her like a man receiving water after being trapped in a desert for too long. He was starving for her. Aching for her. He groaned as her hands found his hair and gently tugged to bring him closer to her clit.

He had missed this. He had missed waking her up with his head between her legs. He had missed the feeling of her tight entrance twitching on his tongue. He had missed the sweet taste of her. He pushed his tongue into her, nose nudging that sweet bundle of nerves, "Fuck daddy, yes!" Her back arched of the bed, and he instantly locked her down with his forearm, growling at her in warning.

Keep still like a good little toy, or I will leave you dripping and aching. He continued his feast, knowing fully well he couldn't, and wouldn't, do that to her. He wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking lightly, and moaning as it earned him a harsher tug on his hair.

His free hand moved up, taking some of her wetness on one finger before slowly pushing it into her. She was tight. So tight. His pretty girl only had her own fingers to play with, and he realized he'd need to slowly stretch her back open all over again for him to slip inside of her like the little sleeve he had made her to be again.

He smirked at the thought of retraining her to be constantly wet and ready to take him at a moment's notice. He curled the one finger, chuckling against her as she swore and prayed to the Gods. Just Rhys or daddy is fine, darling. There are no Gods here to save you from me.

"Rhys!" She gasped loudly as he slowly put another finger inside of her, moving them in and out and curling them into the soft spongy spot that he knew made her see stars. "Fuck please don't stop." He doubled his efforts, moving his fingers faster, sucking and licking at her clit a little harder as she began to flutter around him. That tight coil in her stomach was winding itself up faster and faster with each well planned lick, suck, and curl.

Is my little princess going to cum? A loud whimper of his name came as her breathing picked up. Does my princess have permission to cum?

"Daddy please. I need it. I need to cum. Please." Rhys removed his mouth from her nerves, keeping himself within licking distance.

"Who makes you feel this good? Who is the only male who gets to make you feel like this, huh?" He went back to licking circles and figure 8s on her as his fingers began to move even faster.

The room was filled with her cries, her pleads, and the sound of her wetness. Rhys released his hold on her hips, only for tendrils of darkness to take his forearms place to begin the quick mission of stroking his cock. I asked you a fucking question, Rhiannon. Scream. Scream for all of Velaris who is making you feel this good.

And she did. Her walls locked and began squeezing his fingers as she screamed his name over and over. The tight coil in her stomach releasing and causing more wetness to flood her mate. He moaned against her core, refusing to slow down until he also found his peak. That refusal instantly sent Rhiannon back over the edge with little effort. One graze of his teeth gently against her clit had her crying out of him again, and then him roaring as he came seconds later.

His head fell into her thigh, peppering small kisses there as his hips rutted, and they rode out their bliss together. She tugged the bond, silently begging him to come hold her, and he obeyed. He laid on his back, pulling her into his side, and began playing with her hair. He placed a soft kiss on her lips before trapping her in a more heated one.

One month, he said to her mentally. In one more month, I'm fucking you on every surface of this house. She smiled against his chest, nodding.

"Is that a promise, my love?" She held her pinky to him, making him chuckle and smile as he enloped it into his larger one and pulled her into another deep kiss. A feeling of the familiar zip of a promise being made hit them both. New tattoos, three small stars, adorned their left ring fingers, right above their wedding rings.

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Requiem for a Dream Tag List:

@horneybeach1

@we-were-beautiful

@cat-or-kitten

@twsssmlmaa

@dream-alittlebiggerdarling

@tothestarsandwhateverend

[dichromaticdyke]

SKWISGAAR DOESN'T HAVE A TYPE AND I'M TIRED OF PRETENDING HE DOES

yeah, yeah, he's the guy who loves fat women and gmilfs. but he's not. fandom greatly overblows skwisgaar's "type" in women, and as the CEO of skwisgaar i won't stand for this anymore.

reminder before we get started, i'm not denying that skwisgaar is attracted to fat and elderly women, because he is. instead, this is a response to the way in which fandom acts like those are the only women he's attracted to.

because i have no life, i scrubbed through every episode and kept track of every woman who skwisgaar expresses interest in, whether with sexual comments, sexual encounters, making them his groupies, or giving them children. (no screencaps because i WILL go above tumblr's image limit). i might have missed some, but this is a large enough sample size to prove my point.

01x01 "The Curse of Dethklok": 1 (elderly/fat) 01x09 "Mordland": 1 (elderly/fat) 01x16 "Dethkids": 2 (1 elderly/fat) 01x18 "Girlfriendklok": 2 02x07 "Dethwedding": 2 02x10 "Dethgov": 3 (elderly/fat) 02x13 "Klokblocked": 4 (1 elderly/fat) 02x14 "Dethsources": 2 (elderly/fat) 03x05 "Fatherklok": 48 (8 elderly/fat) 03x06 "Fertilityklok": 54 (6 elderly/fat) 03x10 "Doublebookedklok": 18 (7 elderly/fat) 04x06 "Writersklok": 2 The Doomstar Requiem: 3 (1 elderly/fat)*

TOTALS: 142 young/thin women: 111 (78.17%) elderly/fat women: 31 (21.93%

*note: for DSR, since so many of the visuals are meant to be taken non-literally, i only focused on the ones that seemed to be direct representations of reality or of his genuine feelings. in this case, i focused on the beginning of Partyin' Around the World with the band at mordhaus and his fantasy in How Can I Be a Hero where he dreams about being married.

so. what does this tell us? more often than not, in canon, skwisgaar is depicted as having sex or sexual feelings towards thin women who are closer to his own age. despite this, even in canon, an emphasis is drawn to his attraction to gmilfs and fat women, most notably with him demanding to be put in charge of "dems old ladies" in florida.

i wanna draw attention to this interview, notably at timestamp 2:14

transcript:

Dethklok Minute Host Graham Hartmann: What is it exactly that you love about the-the larger and more elderly ladies? Skwisgaar: I thinks beautiful womens—what peoples calls "beautifuls womens"—amn'ts, uh...gets uglies after a whiles, you gets sicks of them, like eatings the same meals everydays, and you starts to turns to more exotics things that ams nots on the mains menus. So, uh, that would explains that. [underlines added for emphasis]

he doesn't have a type for fat or elderly women. he just can get any woman he wants whenever he wants, and since he does see beauty in all women, he wants to appreciate all women lest he get tired of them.

so, why is there such this hyperfixation on the elderly and fat women as objects of skwisgaar's attraction? as evidenced by both canon and his own words, he doesn't have a preference for them, he simply enjoys them as he would any other woman.

i'm gonna put it bluntly, this is where my silly skwisgaar analysis goes into actual feminist critique: it's because people still find it unusual at best or fetishistic at worst to be genuinely attracted to older and/or fat women. that's the whole thing. everyone—from fandom to interviewers to even the show (by making his attraction to older and fat women an inherent joke aspect of his character)—focusing on this aspect of his attraction does so because, on some level, they cannot fathom a young(ish, depending on what age you headcanon him to be), thin, conventionally attractive man being attracted to women who don't fit that mold.

and, in some ways, there is some reality to this—women's beauty is still held up to an insanely high standard, and generally it's more accepted for average-looking men to have attractive female partners than for average-looking women to have attractive male partners. societal standards for women's beauty and expectations for what men should find attractive is what this joke hinges on, and honestly? it's really frustrating to see this reiterated so often in the fandom. because skwisgaar never really acts particularly fetishistic towards any of the women he's attracted to. you could argue the "exotic" comment was, but he was still talking in terms of his food metaphor, and he's not exactly the best at expressing himself in english.

he loves all women. he genuinely does, his attraction to them has no size, race, or age—any consenting adult woman is game. i don't know about you, but it's fucking refreshing to see any kind of character like that. lesbian skwisgaar rights who said that

[cricketandbooks]

THE BRAINS — Dead Boy Detectives

Edwin Payne: uptight, know-it-all, stagnant, compassionate, determined, and bringer of justice for all those who felt they did not matter

THE BRAWN — Charles' Playlist THE HEART — Niko's Playlist THE EYES — Crystal's Playlist

This playlist follows Edwin Payne (Paine?) through his death and afterlife in chronological order. I hope you enjoy!

Annotations about the songs on the playlist under the cut:

Tracks 1-4: Hell

Track 1: Fear by Clint Mansell, Kronos Quartet

This track is my interpretation of Edwin's experience being sacrificed and sent to hell. Not much is known about Edwin's family and school life before this moment, so to me his story starts here. This instrumental piece builds an atmosphere of slow dread. It culminates into a jarring mess of instrumentals, causing both a feeling of fear and confusion that reflects the experiences of everyone involved in the sacrifice. In the movie that this song is created for, Requiem for a Dream, the characters use drugs to avoid facing reality and their feelings. In Edwin's case, he uses rationalization and dissociation from his reality and feelings to avoid facing them. They both come crashing in as he is sent to hell by the hands of someone who could have truly understood him.

Track 2: Body Terror Song by AJJ

It is my interpretation that Edwin, even before death, hated having a body. A body cannot be completely controlled, and often we are more at mercy to its whims that we can bear. For Edwin, a gay child in a deeply homophobic society, his body presented a lot of danger and anguish to him. He is often seen in the series fully covered, even wearing gloves to avoid being touched by anyone. It is his uniform and serves as a separation of his body from the world, but also from himself as he doesn't have to see or acknowledge it. He also does not mention any sensations that he misses from being alive unlike Charles. However, in hell, this discomfort takes on a whole new meaning.

"I'm so sorry that you have to have a body I'm so sorry that you have to have a body, oh yeah I'm very sorry that you have to have a body One that will hurt you, and be the subject of so much of your fear It will betray you, be used against you, then it'll fail on you my dear But before that, you'll be a doormat, for every vicious narcissist in the world Oh how they'll screw you, all up and over, then feed you silence for dessert"

In the series Edwin mentioned being passed through multiple demons. Each time I imagine them apologizing to him, knowing he wasn't meant to be there. Even in hell, he wasn't truly wanted. And yet, his body was still used to torture him as he was ripped apart and put back together again. While his body didn't get to fail on him via age, he was unable to protect himself from the wrath of his peers as he was never a strong person physically. It also "betrayed" him in that he is attracted to men, and was used against him as a means to scare him by Simon. At this time in the story, he didn't get a true apology from Simon, and his death wasn't investigated. Instead his life and memory was silenced. This fuels his determination to ensure that this never happens to any one else, as well as to dissociate from having a body completely.

Track 3: Anhedonia by Chelsea Wolf, Emma Ruth Rundle

As he is learning about hell and escaping from it, Edwin's resolve to not feeling anything sinks in. After being betrayed and then tossed around like a plaything by demons, his self esteem is slowly draining.

"I know it all comes back times three That human, that demon showed me How it ends when you treat your friends like foes So don't come looking for me I've got my walls up now Protect myself like a fortress And I'm on my own now"

Despite being a potential "friend" to Simon, he was treated like a foe, a vehicle for Simon to put his own insecurities and fears into. In this case, a demon literally showed him the consequences of being viewed this way. Now that he has been shown what could happen when he is vulnerable, he builds his walls to make sure that this never happens again.

"No, I can't sleep, baby And waking up is just a dream My sadness has lost its cause And I'm suffocating So don't come looking for me I've got no joy to lend Protect myself like a fortress Isolating, bridge withdrawing Isolated, I can't take it"

The only thing keeping him going is his strong sense of justice. He knows he doesn't belong where he is, but his feelings of sadness is weighing him down. Even knowing this, he can't shake the trauma of what happened to him, keeping him afraid of change and growth. He felt alone for so long, and this feeling may have been what lead him to come back to the school where his trauma originated. To be surrounded by people in a familiar place while still being able to prove to himself that he had built a fortress around himself that prevents vulnerability.

Track 4: Run Boy Run by Woodkid

While other character's are trapped in their rage or selfishness, Edwin is always running. This constant running makes it so he doesn't truly belong anywhere.

"Run boy run! This world is not made for you Run boy run! They're trying to catch you Run boy run! Running is a victory Run boy run! Beauty lays behind the hills"

This stanza represents his escape from hell, and in this case, running was a victory. It represented his sense of justice and resolve for better.

"Run boy run! This ride is a journey to Run boy run! The secret inside of you Run boy run! This race is a prophecy Run boy run! And disappear in the trees"

However, this running becomes an aspect of Edwin's character that holds him back, as he runs from his inner self and desires. He holds secrets and runs from them, failing to confront others and himself. Instead, he chooses to "disappear" into his work and his purpose. This race is a prophecy about his fatal flaw.

Track 5-9: Limbo

Track 5: First Light by Hozier

This song is my interpretation of Edwin's experience when he met Charles, its counterpart is In a Week by Hozier (Feat. Karen Crowly) on Charles' playlist. Freshly escaped from hell, looking for purpose and walled off from the world and himself, meeting Charles and being able to guide him towards a gentle death allows him to find a new purpose: solving mysteries and being the one to bring the closure that people need.

"One bright morning changes all things Soft and easy as your breathing, you wake Your eyes open, at first a thousand miles away But turning, shoot a silver bullet point-blank range And I can scarce believe what I'm believing in Could this be how every day begins?"

As Charles dies, soft and easy to Edwin reading, he wakes into his new existence and chooses to stay. Edwin thinks this moment is all that they will ever have, but Charles then chooses to stay with him. In disbelief, this begins to wake Edwin up from his anhedonia and despair.

"Like I lived my whole life Before the first light (Some bright morning comes) Like I lived my whole life Before the first light (Some bright morning comes)"

Ironically, as Charles dies, the sun is rising and ending the cold night. Death is described as going into the light, but in this case, Charles' death is the trigger that leads both of them away from the blue glow of death and towards a different kind of afterlife. Both of them died before they could truly live and be free of their traumas. But together, they may be able to overcome this injustice and become more than themselves.

Track 6: Fast Car by Tracy Chapman

The first song to appear on both Charles' and Edwin's playlist. To me this song represents the beginning years of the Dead Boy Detective agency. I will be analyzing this song through Edwin's eyes here. Fast Car is them tentatively believing that they could build something that matters while the shadows of the past seek to haunt them and rip them apart.

"You got a fast car I want a ticket to anywhere Maybe we make a deal Maybe together we can get somewhere Any place is better Starting from zero, got nothing to lose Maybe we'll make something Me, myself, I got nothing to prove"

Charles propositions Edwin, they both want to escape the situation they're in, and want to run from death. They started the agency from zero, and built their reputation over time.

"You got a fast car I got a plan to get us out of here I been working at the convenience store Managed to save just a little bit of money Won't have to drive too far Just 'cross the border and into the city You and I can both get jobs And finally see what it means to be living"

Edwin is the planner, the one who sorts the logistics and ensures that everything is in his place. I imagine he worked incredibly hard to be able to plan and set up the office and establish themselves as the boys begin to understand what they truly have together. He does this while constantly being under stress and on the run, a triumph of his mind.

"So I remember we were driving, driving in your car Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk City lights lay out before us And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder And I-I, had a feeling that I belonged I-I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone"

They lived their lives constantly busy and on the run, with the city of London surrounding them. Edwin feels comforted by Charles, instead of afraid, and finally allows himself to believe that he could matter. In this environment he is in control, and no one can hurt him.

"You got a fast car I got a job that pays all our bills You stay out drinking late at the bar See more of your friends than you do of your kids I'd always hoped for better Thought maybe together you and me would find it I got no plans, I ain't going nowhere So take your fast car and keep on driving"

However, there are cracks in their relationship, and things that they are not honest about to each other. Edwin is incredibly afraid of change and people leaving him. He is set on staying put, while Charles yearns for something more than what he has.

"You got a fast car Is it fast enough so you can fly away? You gotta make a decision Leave tonight or live and die this way"

Even with these continuing tensions, they both continue to make the decision to keep running and leave death together.

Track 7: Working Man by Rush

For the next several decades, Edwin defines himself via his work. The agency has a higher purpose yes, but it is also a vehicle for Edwin to run from his emotions about his past, and from his developing feelings for Charles. Charles's counterpart of this is Post Humorous by Gus Dapperton, detailing his own coping mechanisms during this time. Working Man's repetition of words and verses creates the feeling of monotony, as Edwin's fear of change and obsession with work keeps him trapped in a state of limbo.

"Well, I get up at seven, yeah And I go to work at nine I got no time for livin' Yes, I'm workin' all the time"

As stated above, Edwin is a workaholic. He is constantly redirecting conversations from that of people's feelings to the case at hand. This is particularly salient within "The Case of the Two Dead Dragons" episode, even stating at one point that the case caused way too many feelings, and they should refocus on work. He doesn't have the time for feelings is his rationalization for that fact that he isn't allowing himself to truly thrive, rather to merely survive his continued existence.

"It seems to me I could live my life A lot better than I think I am I guess that's why they call me The workin' man"

People push him to change, and in the first episode Charles is even trying to encourage him to learn self defense. But it wasn't until when the Cat King points out all that he is lacking that he for once is confronted with this fact and cannot deny his stagnation. At this point, he is willing to lose pleasure and joy in exchange for the comfort and safety of repetition and work.

Track 8: Somewhere Only We Know by Keane

The second song to appear on both Edwin and Charles' playlists. Charles and Edwin are each other's safety, best friend, and purpose. They are the only ones during this period that can understand the other's situation and motivation, and through this forged a bond that could last for eternity. However, there are issues threatening to rot their relationship from the inside out.

"I walked across an empty land I knew the pathway like the back of my hand I felt the earth beneath my feet Sat by the river and it made me complete"

They both felt like they new each other like the back of their hands,even though it was revealed throughout the show that they did not. Even though their existence was monotonous, they made each other feel whole and complete. Their relationship grounded each other in their existence.

"Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on So, tell me when you're gonna let me in I'm getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin"

Edwin yearns for things to remain simple, and as he is much older and wearier than Charles, he is looking for someone to rely on to never hurt him like others have in the past. Charles, on the other hand, is getting tired of their existence, and wants something new.

"This could be the end of everything So, why don't we go somewhere only we know? Somewhere only we know Somewhere only we know"

While these tensions in their relationship keep accumulating, it is certain that the boys both love each other and are willing to work out their issues once they finally are able to communicate them.

Tracks 9-13: Purgatory

Track 9: Everybody's Changing by Keane

Back to back Keane. However, this song represents the inevitable change in Edwin's existence, brought into fruition by Crystal joining the agency. He is deeply resistant and afraid of this change, and resentful at Charles for welcoming and encouraging it.

"You say you wander your own land But when I think about it, I don't see how you can You're aching, you're breaking And I can see the pain in your eyes Says everybody's changing and I don't know why"

Edwin cannot comprehend allowing risk into their lives, no matter how much either of them are stifled and hurting. He can't see beyond his own trauma in order to empathize with the reasons why Charles may want a change.

"So little time Try to understand that I'm Trying to make a move just to stay in the game I'm trying to stay awake and remember my name But everybody's changing and I don't feel the same"

Crystal burst into their lives with such force, and Edwin feels like he can't control his environment. In order to outrun death and outrun hell, he is constantly making plans and moves in order to just keep things as they are. He has been working so hard to maintain the status quo that leaving for a new place like Port Townsend with a stranger to save another living person terrifies him.

"You're gone from here, soon, you'll disappear Fading into beautiful light 'Cause everybody's changing and I don't feel right"

Edwin is deeply fearful that Charles and him will be separated, but he is also resentful that while Charles will be greeted with Death's beautiful blue light, he will be damned to hell again.

Track 10: Heather by Conan Grey

Edwin is jealous of Crystal and Charles' relationship, and while he is cognizant on some level that is due to romantic jealousy, he consciously rejects this truth.

"I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater You said it looked better on me than it did you Only if you knew how much I liked you But I watch your eyes as she Walks by What a sight for sore eyes Brighter than the blue sky She's got you mesmerized while I die"

Charles and Edwin have so many memories together, being best friends, but Edwin feels more than that. Witnessing Charles be mesmerized by Crystal cuts him to the core as Charles is willing to even risk Death and afterlife consequences by becoming entangled with the living. The change she brings is sore for both of them, as Edwin feels pain from it, while Charles desperately wanted her to stay.

"Watch as she stands with her, holding your hand Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder But how could I hate her? She's such an angel But then again, kinda wish she were dead as she Walks by What a sight for sore eyes Brighter than the blue sky She's got you mesmerized while I die"

Edwin suppresses his feelings towards Charles as he watches him and Crystal, continuing to put his walls up. He acknowledges that she is incredibly valuable as a part of the agency, and also begins to care for her in her own right. However, that doesn't stop him from his "illogical" feelings that she should still leave.

Track 11: Why Can't I Fall in Love by Ann King

As Edwin continues to grow closer to Niko and Crystal, he begins to acknowledge his feelings towards men. However, he still can't process his feelings for Charles specifically.

"If you told me last year I never would have believed you London streets, no tears It’s been way too long Different season, same town Lost myself in the hand me downs"

Edwin is acknowledging that he is happier and better due to the changes of his life. His melancholia that he hasn't been acknowledging is beginning to shift, he is beginning to realize that he has been suffocating himself due to his routine in London.

"Didn’t think I’d make it out Oh, the air feels lighter now But I’m still on my own Why can’t I fall in love ‘Cause I try, but I never feel enough Knew I had to change To find my own way Maybe that’s the price I paid ‘Cause I try, but I never fall in love"

I imagine this song as him telling Niko his feelings about love. He once again acknowledges that he feels lighter and more joyous with his friends in his life, especially Niko. He knew that in coming from his traumatic past he had to build himself up and put himself back together, but potentially at the cost of bodily desire.

"Sun came back around The grass is greener now The storm left me stronger So let the rain fall down I lеarned to love clouds With my feet on the ground I don’t havе any regret I’m happy where I am at"

Being able to go on date with Monty via Niko's encouragement, he doesn't understand why even after opening himself up and taking this first huge step, he can't feel what he is meant to feel. He is becoming happier in other aspects of his life, not regretting letting Niko and Crystal in, but that isn't enough, and he still can't seem to fall in love.

Track 12: Jenny (Acoustic Cover) by Studio Killers

After his conversation with Monty, Edwin is finally able to acknowledge his true feelings. I chose the acoustic cover for this playlist as I feel it better matches Edwin's demeanor/vibe.

"I wanna ruin our friendship We should be lovers instead I don't know how to say this 'Cause you're really my dearest friend"

Edwin acknowledging his feelings for Charles sets himself up to lose a lot. Charles is his best friend and intertwined with his purpose for existing. Their bond means everything to him.

"Jenny, take my hand 'Cause we are more than friends I will follow you until the end Jenny, take my hand I cannot pretend Why I never like your new boyfriends"

Able to understand his reasons beyond fear of change that he disliked Crystal and Charles together, Edwin gains more insight into himself.

"I wanna ruin our friendship We should be lovers instead I don't know how to say this 'Cause you're really my dearest friend Oh, your love for them won't last long We should be lovers instead Oh, your love for them won't last long 'Cause you really are my dearest friend"

This song represents Edwin's potentially selfish desires to have Charles all to himself, but by being able to acknowledge these feelings, Edwin begins the process of dealing with them healthily.

Tracks 13-17: The Earthly Paradise

Track 13: Meltdown by Clint Mansell, Kronos Quartet

Ironically, Edwin's first step to release himself from purgatory and reach towards self actualization is to be sent back to hell. I once again chose a song from the Requiem for a Dream soundtrack. In this case, I chose it mostly because when I was younger, I heard this song and thought "this is what hell sounds like". The horrendous clanging, the discordant sounds. This song doesn't have a slow build up, Edwin is immediately thrust into his worst nightmare, the very thing that he has been running from this whole time. This song also has a frenetic energy that makes me feel like prey being hunted, with the climax being one's body being ripped apart. However, there are multiple times where the music reaches that terrible bang, indicating that Edwin must undergo this torture again and again.

Track 14: Re: Stacks by Bon Iver

Edwin is able to unpack all the change and new revelations about himself as his worst fears are realized. He learns a lot about himself surrounded by books, which are sometimes referred to as "stacks", but for once it wasn't the information that the books contained that helped him overcome his trauma. Rather, it was the connection—however brief— that he formed with Simon within them.

"This my excavation and to– –day is Kumran Everything that happens is from now on This is pouring rain, this is paralyzed"

Edwin has been forced to see parts of himself that he is deeply uncomfortable with. His feelings for Charles, the fact that his reasons for doing detective work aren't entirely pure. Now in hell, all of these bad memories, as well as the endless terror falls on him like pouring rain. However, he is unable to leave or do anything to escape this fate, being paralyzed. And for once, he cannot run.

"I've been twisting to the sun I needed to replace And the fountain in the front yard is rusted out All my love was down in a frozen ground"

Edwin has been fighting against the inevitable change that comes with being in the world and not in the afterlife, realizing he has been denying himself love and keeping himself "frozen". Through his new friendships, he realizes he needs to make some changes within himself too. Niko was instrumental in allowing him to acknowledge this.

"There's a black crow sitting across from me His wiry legs are crossed And he's dangling my keys, he even fakes a toss Whatever could it be that has brought me to this loss?"

However, growth isn't always linear, and things don't always work how you want them too. Monty betrayed him, dangling a potential new relationship and path for growth. Simon appears before him, dangling before him all his most ugly vindictive impulses, and Edwin cannot save him.

"This is not the sound of a new man Or crispy realization It's the sound of the unlocking and the lift away Your love will be safe with me"

Despite all this, Edwin is able to acknowledge that he has been building walls for an incredibly long time. After meeting Simon he realizes he has also been in a hell of his own creation through his inflexibility, control, and fear. However, he is willing to let down his walls and let other people in, and to let life in as well. He is finally ready to tell Charles the truth. As such, all of Crystal's, Niko's, and Charles' love will truly be safe with him as he finally decides to face all the load that has been holding him back all these years.

Track 15: The Scientist by Coldplay

The first non-homophobic gay hell confession.

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry You don't know how lovely you are I had to find you, tell you I need you Tell you I set you apart

Edwin positions himself below Charles at first during his confession, unable to go any further and staying even deeper in hell. This could be due to his believe that his feelings are "wrong", as he is apologetic about them. But, it is also incredible growth as he is willing to remain in his worst fears and not willing to run away in order to be honest and true to himself. He is able to say plainly for the first time that he loves Charles, finds him beautiful and that he holds him in his heart more deeply than he ever imagined he could.

Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions Oh, let's go back to the start Running in circles, coming up tails Heads on a science apart

Edwin acknowledges the secrets he's been keeping from Charles, holding themselves back from fully knowing each other. From the Cat King and onward, he is now willing to be completely honest. He also acknowledges that his fear of both his past and his future has been part of what kept them trapped in a circular path, unable to both grow and change.

I was just guessing at numbers and figures Pulling the puzzles apart Questions of science, science and progress Do not speak as loud as my heart But tell me you love me, come back and haunt me Oh and I rush to the start

Edwin used logic and work to keep himself from fully thriving, but now his feelings can't be ignored. He is able to admit to the person he cares about most that he wants to be loved, that he wants them to be together even though this is the most terrifying thing for him.

Nobody said it was easy Oh, it's such a shame for us to part Nobody said it was easy No one ever said it would be so hard I'm going back to the start

Now that he has spoken allowed his feelings and got his answer, Edwin is finally free to process his feelings and begin to move on to new love and new live, with his best friend by his side.

Track 16: That's What Friends Are For by Dionne Warwick, Elton John, Stevie Wonder, Gladys Knight

After all that he has been through, Edwin finally feels prepared to be fully himself, with his friends supporting him. He has finally stopped running from himself and is prepared to embrace his future and the change it will bring.

And I never thought I'd feel this way And as far as I'm concerned I'm glad I got the chance to say That I do believe I love you And if I should ever go away Well, then close your eyes and try To feel the way we do today And then if you can remember

In the beginning, Edwin went out of his way to be prickly and rude to both Niko and Crystal, as well as to the idea of Port Townsend itself. But now he is able to acknowledge his love for them and the happiness they bring him. They aren't his work colleagues, but beloved friends.

Well, you came and opened me And now there's so much more I see And so by the way I thank you Oh and then for the times when we're apart Well, then close your eyes and know These words are coming from my heart And then if you can remember

Niko and Crystal changed his life forever, and both in their own ways beginning to thaw him from the ice and dissociation that was keeping him miserable. Despite fighting against it so hard, he is grateful to them and the community that they have created together that allows him to be so happy and free.

Keep smilin', keep shinin' Knowing you can always count on me for sure That's what friends are for For good times and bad times I'll be on your side forever more That's what friends are for

Usually stoic and stiff, Edwin is able to allow himself the use of his body to express his emotions for the first time. He is an incredibly loyal person and now that he loves them, will stand by the group forever.

Track 17: The Foundations of Decay by My Chemical Romance

This song is found on all Charles, Crystal, and Edwin's playlists. This song discusses where the characters will go after Niko's death, and reflecting on what they've all learned so far.

See the man who stands upon the hill He dreams of all the battles won But fate had left its scars upon his face With all the damage they had done

All of the characters have been hurt and traumatized by their past, and sometimes it is not so easily healed. Their scars also kept them from truly connecting and communicating with each other. Niko was the one who united them all with her firm believe in love and hope, as well as her ability to listen to their deepest fears. For Edwin in particular, Niko's friendship was incredible important to him as her unconditional acceptance was so crucial in letting himself open up and face his feelings.

Let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame Let our blood in vain, you find God in pain Now, if your convictions were a passing phase May your ashes feed the river in the morning rays And as the vermin crawls, we lay in the foundations of decay

All of the characters were rotting in their own ways before they met each other. Charles was rotting in a silent rage, unable to truly confront his death and all that he lost, alongside how his parents continued on happy without him while causing him so much suffering. Niko was trapped in her room unable to connect with others in the world not just due to her sprites, but through her unhealed grief and fear. Crystal was suffocating in her selfishness and inability to love and be loved, as well as the abusive and neglectful relationships in her life. Edwin was rotting from his inability to accept change, letting the fear of his past control his life. His denial of himself and his desires lead him to be unable to grow and held him back from truly thriving in the existence he fought so hard for.

You must fix your heart And you must build an altar where it swells When the storm, it gains and the sky, it rains Let it flood, let it flood, let it wash away And as you stumble through your last crusade Will you welcome your extinction in the morning rays? And as the swarm it calls, we lay in the foundations

I believe the thesis of the Dead Boy Detectives, as well as this song, is the lyric "you must fix your heart". By allowing your old self to rot, you are able to confront your trauma and begin to heal and grow again. As the characters continue to confront their decay, they will hopefully continue to become more self actualized and healed.

[1997thebracket]

Round 3

Perfect Blue: Come, stay with me in Mima’s Room. Perfect Blue is a Japanese animated psychological thriller directed by the late Satoshi Kon, released theatrically in 1997. The story revolves around a former pop idol, Mima, who leaves her sugary and girlish pop band CHAM! to transition into a more mature acting career; life soon takes a turn for the surreal as she becomes the target of an obsessive stalker, and begins losing sight of herself in the darkness. As the lines between reality and delusion blur, the plot unravels on itself and weaves through themes of identity, celebrity, and the psychological toll of fame. The critically-acclaimed Perfect Blue is celebrated by its enduring fandom for its mind-bending narrative, striking visuals (one scene, taking place in a submerged bath, was famously rumored to have been purchased for recreation in Darren Aronofsky’s Requiem for a Dream) and its unsettling exploration of the human psyche, placing it squarely at the apex of gut-twisting anime filmmaking.

King of the Hill: That boy ain’t right. King of the Hill is an animated television series created by Mike Judge and Greg Daniels that originally aired in 1997. The show is essentially a slice-of-life sitcom that centers around the lives of the Hill family in the fictional town of Arlen, Texas. We tend to spend our time with Hank Hill, a tightly-wound propane salesman, his boisterous wife Peggy, their son Bobby– the fabled boy who ain’t right– and their eclectic group of friends and neighbors. Rooted in dry humor but sincere down-to-earth storytelling, King of the Hill explores the quirks of everyday life in middle America, particularly the colorful characters seen in a politically-divided 90s Texas. The show delves into a wide range of topics, from family dynamics to cultural and societal issues; despite its somewhat meme-worthy status, King of the Hill is critically acclaimed, and it endures in the hearts of fans for its lovable character-driven writing.

[loafaethernaut]

Recap of all the teasers (as of August 2nd, 2024) from the official Black Ops 6 zombies teaser website below!

If you wish to see them for yourself first the link to the site is the current pinned post on my blog- however I will issue a warning that the interactive site does include jump scares and flashing/flickering images so I would not recommend viewing it if you are photosensitive.

The website acts as an interactive television with six total channels. Yesterday the first two channels became active, with channel one showing a template for a scrolling TV guide that after a moment turns into a jumpscare of Mr. Peeks/the mystery box bunny from Cold War.

The screen then flashes and flickers between several images including shots of our Requiem Crew in their prison cells on Terminus Island:

My apologies for the poor image quality, this is a screenshot from my phone lol. I agree with the majority consensus I’ve seen from others in the community that the top left is Carver, top right is Weaver, bottom left is Strauss, and the bottom right is Grey.

It seems like Weaver and Strauss appear distraught, while Carver and Grey are doing pushups and getting into shape.

The second channel shows what looks like a weather radar of a hurricane or a typhoon before it forms into an image of Mr. Peeks once again (definitely a huge emphasis on Mr. Peeks in this game, more on that later).

After that the screen flashes and shows a really dark shot of what is likely Terminus Island it’s just really hard to tell so I didn’t take a screenshot. There’s a voice in the background listing off numbers but I can’t make them out either.

Channels 3 and 4 were updated today, and we finally got some new intel on our Requiem Crew.

Channel 3 starts off as a fake news report like a lot of the BO6 teasers have been however it cuts off and starts flashing a ton of fragmented images of “interrogation progress reports” for each of our members of the Requiem Crew.

I was only able to get a good screenshot of Carver’s report, so I give credit and thanks to MargwaNetwork on Twitter for the images of Grey and Weaver’s reports.

Based on Carver’s report it seems like he’s been the main source of encouragement for the team, and it’s likely he’s been helping Grey (and presumably the others) get into shape?

Weaver is presumably the one their captors have been the toughest on so far, and the Director definitely has a grudge against Weaver in particular. Seeing him described as a “broken, bitter man” is genuinely saddening.

But now comes the one that got me the most excited, Grey’s report. I’m mostly just trying to get the information out there with this post so I might gush more about this in another post but it’s clear she had some kind of hope of someone rescuing her and that hope is definitely gone now. “Acts ambivalent in regard to her own safety” Really? Now THIS is an interesting direction to take her character in. I am very excited to find out more.

As of right now there are no good images that I could find of Strauss’s progress report, but from the snippets I could make out it seems like he still cares about the others but might be losing his grip on reality?

Channel 4 gave us a fake commercial for a love song CD before flashing to a commercial for the new gobblegum machine.

It looks just like the one from BO3 except it’s clearly from Mr Peeks instead of Dr Monty. It showed images of the same gobblegums from BO3 and the machine has a little screen on it that plays a cartoon of Mr. Peeks.

So far there really hasn’t been much but finally getting an update on the Requiem Crew since the end of CW is really exciting!! As someone who cares a lot about these characters I am in anguish over their pain but also (somehow?) still hopeful that things will improve for them!!

[goofyahhbobot]

Haven't seen a DT version of this meme so I chose Spanky and Wooldoor bc of Requiem for a Reality Show

[filmjunky-99]

d r a w n t o g e t h e r, 2004-07 📺 created by dave jeser, matt silverstein [requiem for a reality show, s1ep4] 'Hero Humiliation'

[vacantgodling]

i’m just gonna make this bullet points bc i’ve not the time to be eloquent

the thesis of what i saw was “suffering isn’t character development because after a point it’s gratuitous, boring, and if they’re constantly tortured what are they developing from”

and as someone who isn’t particularly a fan of what most people nowadays call this (whump) ig, here’s me weighing in on the war on whump in favor of it in its theoretical form:

people can do whatever they want forever. even if it’s shit you don’t like. someone writing gratuitous, “boring”, overdone torture porn is not affecting you and your life. there is no need for “concern” as the post said. most people who write this shit are just people. even if they do have something that makes them act or feel things in a certain way that doesn’t mean you can or should deprive them of the joy that’s making art in any of its forms; whimsical or horrific, whether you like it or not.

as someone who again, doesn’t like it particularly either, i am once again tapping the sign that i keep having to drag out anytime i see shit like this: preferences aren’t advice. they are preferences. unless you are seeking to help the person do what they’re trying to accomplish your input is invalid. i bring up that i don’t like it because listen i can tell these thoughts were said as a knee jerk reaction to seeing shit you don’t like. and i get it, i feel the same way but

disengage with shit you don’t like. don’t hate watch or hate read anything. don’t be daft.

stop the assumption that character development is always positive. negative character development also exists and is common in day to day life. people are shaped by the experiences they have. they cannot develop from anything if there are no experiences to warrant the developing. saying that “suffering isn’t character development” is like me saying that consequences for driving 100 miles an hour into oncoming traffic don’t exist. they do.

i understand wanting levity. i don’t like whump solely because i can’t sit through endless suffering. but that doesn’t mean i think there isn’t character development. if a character goes through strife and trials and tribulations that changes them. usually for worse in this scenario. that’s. still. development. like the argument you have doesn’t even hold up.

to provide you an example, much of my life between the ages of 19-22 was straight suffering. like i was having a Bad Time my g. and those behaviors, patterns, defense mechanisms, coping strategies, and attitudes are still things i have with me to this day. not all of them are healthy. not all of them are positive. but they exist in response to the shit that i’ve faced.

it’s not even like endless suffering isn’t a real thing like my guy go anywhere in the world and i guarantee in every city you’ll find people suffering in ways you didn’t even think were possible. not that it’s good. but it’s not Unrealistic per se.

fiction and reality aren’t equal btw and allowing people to explore dark fantasies and ideas in the safe place of stories and fiction is more healthy than trying to suppress or shame people into not thinking about it or talking about it. humans will always be creatures of “what if”

finally, again, i reiterate that not every story is supposed to be happy (requiem for a dream is harrowing for instance. just endless suffering. but there Is a lot of character development. it’s just all Bad. and guess what, that’s the point!! its supposed to show the horrors of addiction and it worked. but i will never watch it again. same thing with bedeviled. or hell half the horror genre. even very popular titles like game of thrones get popular and are just cesspools of suffering. it’s safer to read and watch it than live it. i’d rather us do that).

and also, FINALLY finally. your preferences aren’t writing advice stop it. *spritzes with water*

[candyskiez]

Favorite The Owl House episode?

tbh, haven't rewatched the show in a long long time so might need to rewatch to be sure. for a while, it was eda's requiem. it means a lot to me and genuinely made me realize shit about myself. as dumb as it sounds it's what made me realize "...oh. if I died, that'd...probably fuck up the people around me." so it has a massively special place in my heart. and also the depth it gives eda! made me reevaluate shit about how I view parents and also just. god. the importance of found family and how important it is to acknowledge that it's just as important as blood family. found family is so often treated as secondary and seeing it portrayed as just as important is so fucking good and god! middle aged characters with depth! middle aged WOMEN with depth! some of the most accurate depression rep I've seen. she feels so real and raw and god, it's really nice to see a middle aged character who gave up learning to get back up again and stop feeling like they missed the best of their life and wasted it, and aaorudhdjd. god. I love eda. the music is beautiful and the duet is haunting, raeda fascinates me, and bard magic will ALWAYS be my favorite magic in toh.

I feel like the grey decaying thing works excellently as a metaphor for depression. it's what made me start going "is this a metaphor for mental illness?" because it FEELS like it. the voice acting is top tier and its so fucking good. it's just,,, man. a middle aged woman having an episode all to herself?? baby mes mind would've been BLOWN. her hatred of the curse wouldn't have hit nearly as hard without this episode, I think. the loneliness and feeling like it makes her Less is shown so well in this episode. it's just,,, man. as someone who's struggled with depression all my life, it resonates. she doesn't even CONSIDER king would still love her. raine saved her fucking life there and I'm still fucked up about it. it handles depression very well and its just. Man. that duet is one of the most memorable scenes in the show. darius abomination form is badass, raine's powers are so cool, the bats have my ENTIRE heart, the fucking MUSIC. brads music bangs. I love his soundtracks and this episode is just. always iconic to me.

that being said, I'm not entirely sure if it's my favorite episode right now? my brain flip flops on these things. right now I think it might be eclipse lake because it's just. SUCH a good episode. it's so gorgeous. the fight choreography, the animation, the lore, but most of all the EMOTION.

it has such excellent abuse rep. showing not only the complicated emotional reality of living with your abuser, of being dependent on your abuser, but also the fact that having an abusive relationship influences how you view ALL relationships. I love that amitys trauma isn't sidelined! what originally comes off as amity being a little TOO excited about having a girlfriend and also dana flipping off disney is shown to be amity being fucking terrified of losing this. she's so desperate to prove herself and since they're foils we gain knowledge as to what odalia and amitys relationship might've been like through hunter and gain insight into how hunter might view other relationships going forward through amity and it's LOVELY.

it also drives me insane that people use this episode as proof amity would hate hunter when. nah. nah, absolutely not. also I love how it shows how fucking KIND amity actually is. this boy's threatened and backstabbed her multiple times and is showing he's willing to do ANYTHING to win, and she still feels so much fucking sympathy for him. because she gets it. he's like her. she would've done this in his shoes. she offers him kindness and shows no sign of holding a grudge??? NONE???? this woman is fucking forgiving. she would have every right to hate his guts and she doesn't. idk what y'all mean when you say she's a jerk shes fucking KIND.

also hunters breakdown is painful to watch. I don't know what I can say about it that hasn't already been said. it's so raw and resonant, it feels like watching a real kid, it has such a realistic depiction of abused kids, what else can I say?

I also love the addressing of the cycle of abuse. hunter isn't a pure innocent baby here. he's manipulative and mean and cutthroat. hes a dick! I love him having anger issues because that's how abused kids often are! and I love amity backsliding! I love amity going tunnel vision! I love how realistic and painful the whole episode is!

they're just kids, man. you can tell the crew wanted this to be realistic and they succeeded.

I don't know which I like more. they're both just so GOOD.

(ask me things!)

[shellofhappiness]

I’m sorry I came at you too aggressively, I just get frustrated for whatever reason when I see people kind of.. diminish their relationship? Like truly I just want to get behind why so many people believe their relationship was an unrequited one of sorts?

Hey, it's okay! I actually wasn't expecting to get any kind of response back, so I'm very pleased! I'm humble enough to admit in retrospect that there was also quite a bit of bite in my tone when initially replying to you, but since you got back to me making a clear effort to be more considerate and explain where you were coming from, I'll do my best to go about my perspective in a way that's less emotionally-charged! That aside, I sincerely hope you've been well since our last interaction. No hard feelings, water under the bridge! 🤍

This is mostly me going off the top of my head about why exactly it’s not uncommon to see people bring up the concept that Dylan didn’t care as much for Eric ( From my perspective, I think the better way to word this point is “Eric cared more for Dylan” rather than “Dylan didn’t care as much for Eric,” because it removes the negative connotation. ), so forgive me if I forget any notable details and such! Despite that, I'll still be providing sources for what I can.

First, I want to clarify that “unrequited” may not have been the most ideal word to use in my original post, and I apologize for the confusion that caused. I firmly agree that during their last year(s) together, EH and DK were the closest people in each other’s lives. They both obviously cared about NBK and subsequently, each other, blurring the lines between them and their act of requiem. They, together, were NBK, their own final solution to every single hardship they had ever faced, both separately and by each other’s side, all coming to a conclusion that could start and end with their hands, all in their own control.

I used the word “unrequited” to describe just how much it meant to Eric in particular. It both meant their entire lives to them, quite literally, but to Eric, from what we can gather, just a liiittle bit more that it was the two of them specifically than his partner in crime. For Eric, it was the act of going NBK in a symbolic sense, but for Dylan, his desire stemmed from the cruel reality of committing a national tragedy and then kicking the bucket. I think this shows well in what we know of the basement tapes. Eric is emotional and the certitude sets in, but he knows this is what he wants. Dylan is more emotionally withdrawn, mostly expressing anger at everyone who has wronged him. Now, I don’t want to neglect the argument that it could be DK used aggressive behavior as a mask to hide the dread he felt overall throughout filming. I’m not foolish enough to deny there wasn’t any of that from his end, but who knows why exactly he acted the way he did and how it could’ve contrasted off the record? 

Dylan was Eric’s final answer the entire time, contrasting Dylan who settled for Eric. I completely understand how using the word “settle” could come off as a diminishment of their bond, but it’s the best word I can think to use when we take into account that Dylan originally fantasized about constructing some kind of doomsday with their mutual friend, Zach ( Who Dylan was notably closer too / sought out more, & who Eric had a sudden disdain for up until before judgment day … jealousy? Heheh, just playing. ).

Dylan frequently wrote about Zach in what we have of his writings. We know it’s Zach because the first censored mention of him in his journal matches the time frame of when Zach started dating Devon. Other pages of him mentioning and lamenting Zach’s redirection of attention towards him in favor of his own life are here, here, and arguably here. While Eric is brought up a few off-hand times in his writing, showing he did truly consider the bond they had, it was never anything in-depth like how he wrote for Zach or his Halcyon Girl. If anything, I think the word “unrequited” would better be described for Zach and Dylan’s friendship, being that Dylan was the one who would make more of the effort to see & interact with him, while Zach went with the flow, hardly making the effort to reach out in comparison. This can be seen in pretty much anything you read about Zack’s recount of his time with him. While this is more minor, I still think it’s interesting that DK even wrote down Zach’s birthday on his school planner, to emphasize how much he meant to him ( He did not write down Eric’s birthday though, for anyone curious. ). 

"I have always been interested in the body language between Zack and Dylan in the video in the auditorium. Zack actively walks away from Dylan and almost acts aloof around him, during a time in which Dylan still trusted and cared for Zack deeply." Absolutely. To the point I couldn't actually identify Zack during the first times I was watching this video. I was told by the research community that Dylan and Zack were best friends so what I was seeing on the screen didn't match at all what I had read. I didn't see friends there, I was seeing a boy avoiding the sound tech boy as if the latter had the plague. Dylan's body language in that video is also very interesting, the way he seems lost on that stage or defends himself in a very Dantean way when another student touches the sleeve of his duster.

thanks for your reply! i agree with you completely, he brushes dylan off and even makes an effort to look away from him. dylan kinda follows him around but zack is acting like he’s too busy and milling about. he kinda gave me “how guys act when they think girls are looking” lol it’s just fascinating to me because supposedly he and zack called each other every night and played quake; and dylan felt so strongly toward zack, almost possessive. but then…zack was encouraging yoshi to take dylan’s place and talking poorly about him everywhere else. that’s not a friend to me. it’s possible dylan sensed this and it only drove him closer to eric, who he felt “got” him and his motives

Here’s a discussion I found on Reddit that covers the friendship between Zach and Dylan which gives some important perspective on the two of them! The ending of the second person’s reply really stands out to me, it’s something profound not just anyone would consider.

Unrelated, but while digging for information, I found Zach’s senior yearbook quote which is so funny. Literal lifelong trauma was behind this easy statement before he even knew what was coming. 😭

Here are two ( one, two ) really good posts from The Everlasting Contrast that discuss the concept of DK & EH not being as close as people make them out to seem. While I don’t agree with them 100%, they still address the more notable points and ideas on why people have come to the conclusion that we’re discussing, better than what I could paraphrase!

Another reason I could think as to why people have this idea is because of Sue Klebold. Now, I know a lot of people hold contempt against her, rightfully so to a certain extent, but she was still his mother at the end of the day, and what she said should be taken into account whether we respect her or not. I am waaayy too burnt out to find any exact quotes from her book or interviews, but I’m sure we’re all familiar with the narrative she pushed that Eric was an extremely troubled boy and Dylan felt bad for him, so he befriended him out of pity at the expense of him having to bear some of his violent outbursts or questionable tendencies… I don’t know, man. I don’t care at the moment either! I recall in an interview, she referenced a section in her book where she mentioned that Dylan would complain about Eric to her behind his back about how he was out of touch he was, but don’t take my word for it. Even if Dylan said this to his mom to get her off his back about Eric, it still implies some kind of ulterior motive to paint your friend in a bad light for your advantage. He could’ve been more respectful, but once again, who knows? It’s one of the more complicated facets of Dylan’s self that people avoid delving into because it goes entirely against the whole “Sunshine Boy” image Sue perpetuates. 

Now, this is a lot less significant than the things I brought up previously, but another instance that came to me with the idea of Eric “caring” more, is the preparation they wrote down for NBK. Dylan only has a few pages ( one, two, three, four, five, six.), two of them being outfit mockups, while Eric jot down everything he could think of & consider relating to it ( one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, even more unlinked! ). I know it can be argued that DK did a better job leaving no traces of evidence, including the hypothetical he had written more down and thrown it away before they followed through with their plans, but it’s just another interesting little thing to consider.

This was very much rushed towards the end, I apologize … Despite that, I think I brought up everything that could answer your question! So, if you want to look more into it for yourself, you know what leads to follow. ^.^ I might come back and edit this post later down the line to be more formal, considerate, and even personal, but for now, this will do. I hope I provided some sort of aid to your inquiries … until we meet again!

[rosesrotofficial]

meet the writer: rosesrot.

hi, i’m rose rao. 

i write because there isn’t nearly enough fucked-up queer stuff in the world. don’t get me wrong, i love the sweet sapphics as much as the next person; but us of that kind is the only kind of us acceptable to the mainstream. where’s our chaos, our complexities, where’s our destruction? where is it, on our own terms?

because of that, i attempt to explore modern identity, queerness, and relationships through the latent abjection that is inherent within oneself: touching on the haphazard, taboo, and less-than-desired spaces that we take up. my stories intend to be a reclamatory celebration—and catharsis—of the darker human aspects we prefer not to think about.

that is to say: i write about girls, sapphics, friendships and destructions; i thrive with fucked-up queer stuff; glorious girls and fallen girls, walking-dead girls and manic-made girls; i'm in love with the deranged and the apotheotic.  

are you?

(projects below.)

▼ story #1: CUCKOOSONG, a book trilogy about a pair of thrill-killing sapphics who escape from their lifetime of captivity, believing they can make the world theirs through death; but the scientist that made them the way they are will stop at nothing to hunt them down. an exploration of trauma, identity, worldmaking, and destructive love.

inspirations: killing eve; ariel; mad girl's love song; death tractates; american psycho; the erl-king (angela carter); gods and mortals and girls

(image by @wide-awake-and-dead-xx)

△ story #2: ENTER SERAPHIM and IN THE HALLS OF HALLOW, a collaborative book duology with @wide-awake-and-dead-xx about a band of societal outcasts who find each other through the murder hotel they run to. an exploration of connections, relationships, and found family. 

inspirations: stephen king; chuck palahniuk; h.h. holmes and his murder hotel; american horror story

(art by @nitunioart)

▼ game #1: MORTAL COIL, a visual novel about a VR death game reality TV show where if you die in game, you die in real life. a deconstruction of youtuber, streaming, and vtuber culture.

inspirations: social media; youtube; twitch; vtubers; hunger games; danganronpa; squid game; mafia (the party game); town of salem; hong kong

(art by miencha and graphic by James Molloy)

△ game #2: SERAPHIM SLUM, a spooktober visual novel about a girl who moves to the slums and meets three girls that intrigue her. a deconstruction of what it means to be the devil.

inspirations: the devil we know; kakegurui; paradise lost; richard iii; dr faustus; the kowloon walled city

△ game #3: TBN, a visual novel about a Prom Queen who must discover the identity of her killer to break free from the repetitive cycle of reliving her death on Prom Night. a dark coming-of-age deconstruction of gender and girlhood.

inspirations: heathers; happy death day; carrie; insatiable; drop dead gorgeous; dare me; candyman

(image credit: @tsamporadhoe; image above only used as aesthetic representation; i have no claim to the characters portrayed.)

△ screenplay #1: REQUIEM OF THEIR BODIES, a film about a misanthropic queen bee who must team up with her ex-girlfriend’s trans brother to secure the votes for Prom victory, but his eerie terms threaten to confront her repressed dysphoria and her dark secrets.

inspirations: see above! this screenplay is a darker alternate universe of the visual novel.

thank you for reading. i hope you enjoy what i write and find a kind of catharsis in it too.

~ Rose.

▼ my carrd

△ play MORTAL COIL's demo

▼ play SERAPHIM SLUM

△ join my server!

[dichromaticdyke]

when i first watched season 4, i didn't love it because it felt so all over the place, both tonally and storywise. i mean, season 4 felt like it was meant to be very lore-heavy, but the only episodes that actually felt important to the story of that season were "prankklok," "writersklok," "dethcamp," "going downklok," "dethdinner," "breakupklok," and "the church of the black klok." that's 7 story-based episodes in a 12-episode season, but they're placed so sporadically, it's very jarring.

all that being said, with the hindsight of both the doomstar requiem and army of the doomstar, i understand better how the five "filler episodes" of season 4 fit within everyone's character arcs.

"fanklok" - nathan is still so disconnected from the reality of how dating works and what romantic relationships shouldn't look like that he dates a fan (and he's not even initially concerned when he finds out she's allegedly killed a bunch of people, he's more concerned that she's cheating on him). and because this relationship ends so terribly, he doesn't have the opportunity to process it or take away any meaningful lessons on how to have an adult relationship.

"diversityklok" - despite being with dethklok for years now, toki is still isolated from them. even his best attempts to grow close with them fall short. also, dethklok is powerful enough to survive bad faith racism allegations, i guess.

"motherklok" - pickles realizes that his bio family are all garbage people and it doesn't matter that they're his family—they're not good for him, and he has every right to cut them out of his life and instead focus on the family that actually cares about and appreciates him.

"bookklok" - toki stands up to skwisgaar for once in his life, and skwisgaar finally has a reckoning with the fact that his methods of...i think he was trying to encourage toki to improve...weren't helping and he has to change his approach if he still wants to have toki in his life. and he does (we never see skwisgaar aggrandize toki's playing again, though he still does have a teeny bit of that tough love stuff going on).

"dethvanity" - william feels insecure with his place in the band, driving him to extreme measures in an attempt to prove that he's not ugly—which, in this episode, is presented as him trying to prove that he's not a monster.

and then looking at the character arcs of the doomstar requiem and army of the doomstar in tandem, what do we have?

nathan learning that he doesn't have to force relationships to go a certain way and he doesn't have to shut down when they don't go the way he wants; adult relationships are about mutual respect, not obsession.

toki being recognized as a brother in the band, arguably the glue that holds them all together; he is the sunshine rainbows marshmallow man, and the band all need a force like that in their lives to keep them from going off the deep end.

pickles helping to be the maternal figure in the band, the one to be there for everyone; having a family means supporting them when you can and helping them to be the best parts of themselves, and a true family will work past the rocky parts instead of turning cold.

skwisgaar...is also there. i'm kidding, his is just more subtle; learning to admit when he's wrong or when to drop the whole guitar god diva thing, even just briefly, to let others in and recognize their importance.

william learning that his place in the band is more valuable than he could ever recognize; any ugliness or dissent isn't a reflection of who he truly is, it doesn't make him a monster, because he's more than just what the surface shows.

i'm sorry, but it's actually crazy how well this worked out with season 4 having one episode dedicated to subtle character development or character arc progression for each of the dethklok members. i still think the overall pacing of the season is wack, but looking at it like this does help.

but seriously though, how the hell did dethklok manage to not get canceled after "diversityklok" charles what kind of NDAs did you force everyone at that event to sign

[microraptorreactor]

Time for random SftBT lore tidbits

Because there's so many little lore notes that didn't get included. Below cut because long!

Kaine and Kai (from chapter 15) are good friends! They worked together during V1 and proto-V2's production.

The external feathers mentioned in V1's segment in chapter 21 are a whole deal. That don't get mentioned because the only V unit who has the temperament to keep them nice and is old enough to even get them is Mirage. They grow in once a Viscera unit looses the brown markings on their internal feathers. V2 would theoretically get some around the time it enters hell, but those would get damaged or pulled off fairly quickly thanks to, you know, hell (Which is also why V1 doesn't have any during the actual game). The other problem with the external feathers is that, like real birds, Viscera units will try pulling them out if board/stressed. V1 was the worst about this since it got board easily. Feather pulling probably would have also been a problem for V2 if it had lived long enough.

Caladrius still has pilot bots! Post-war they are really more of a tourist draw, and there's only four, but BA-31 (the group) is still totally a thing. Mostly they are either used for airshows or to stand around historical societies.

On the theme of BA-31, British Pilots are one of the most common repurposed bots! But only if you're in Britain. The BA series is pretty well-liked and was a common robot to be assigned to. Which is exactly why assistant bots were based off them, lol.

Julyen Ryker and Baeri/Sleet both have British accents. Nayea has a Russian accent. Saavi and Elber are both Finnish, and Kaine and Kai are American. (Kaine has a Chicago accent, specifically. Kai has a generic Southern accent.)

Not every Earthmover agreed to Hell's request. Solar-powered Earthmovers were excluded from it, and some more strong willed blood fueled Earthmovers also refused. New Requiem and Midnight Point are not some of those Earthmovers though. Neo Eclipse was, though.

Nayea has a whole-ass backstory that was never mentioned. Mostly because halfway through writing I realized that giving any more screentime to one of the characters with an incredibly horrific (although offscreen) death was maybe a little cruel. Long story short, she was not born on New Requiem, but was brought there as a freshly-orphaned small child.

Back to Nayea's death, she's super dead lol. All the Earthmover handlers are various flavors of starved if they got trapped inside the earthmover, or mauled if they managed to get out of it. Nayea was mauled a couple days into the revolution after she wiggled out an air vent and tried to get help.

Just realized I should write out Mirage's full deal here instead of referencing the lore from the AO3 comments. Mirage IS a real person in this au, and she is Proto-V2, specifically. After Proto-V2 was killed by V1, a wad of its processors were set aside for further study. That wad of processors contained her Kernel, some (incomplete) memory banks, and a simulation processor. In Kernel mode, Mirage slowly built her own reality based off what she had been told the outside world was like (mostly through TV shows the engineers showed her). That's how S-2 exists in this world, lol.

Koda has albinism. It's not really mentioned because V2 doesn't care about appearances, but she looks mildly demonic with red eyes, pronounced eye bags, and white hair. The irony lmao.