#but like has no further commentary than ‘i notice you do these things’ and nothing telling me to stop or even to keep going like? wtf do i d

[pacifistcowboy]

i’m nineteen years of age, i shouldn’t be googling shit like “does my crush like me” ffs this is humiliating

[meepmeeptheschool]

I never expected to be a person who has opinions about commentators on sports (3 years ago I had never heard the term “color commentator” before), but I’ve been watching so much of the Olympics that I have experienced some true highs and lows.

the women’s rugby commentators were very fun, I got super into the kayak and canoe slalom in part because of the commentators

the male commentator on the women’s hammer throw final made me want to SCREAM. he literally used the term “histrionics” TWICE to refer to the hammer thrower’s yells. which is fully a part of the sport and also just a wildly misogynistic thing to say. there were other dumb things he said, like saying one of the (noticeably thinner) women had a “nice athletic shape about her” when it’s like… hey buddy, they all do! they’re fucking Olympians! further, he kept going on and on about how this wouldn’t be a very exciting hammer throw final and again, sir don’t tell us that. your fucking job is to make us excited. the female commentator with him sounded genuinely excited, so what’s up?

but nevermind all that, because I started watching Taekwondo yesterday and I have found the greatest commentator duo of all time.

the first commentator is a Scottish man who appears to casually make sing-song-y rhymes without thinking about it. here are some excerpts:

“First to two will do to make it through.”

“Toes on the nose, that’s how it goes!”

“The socks they wear have sensors on them…you could call it TECH-won-do if you wanted”

“If you're watching this at work in secret on a laptop, good on you, you're getting paid to watch this” (lmao call me out sir)

“She enjoys fashion and beauty, and in the beauty of the match can she fashion a win for the bronze medal?”

“You have to get the reach plus the screech to get the point.”

“In France, at the big dance, she gets the chance to go for bronze”

I have no idea who he is but he is delightful.

he is joined by Milica Djuricić (neé Mandić) a two-time gold medalist in women’s +67kg Taekwondo for Serbia. she is much more technical and also hilariously nonchalant.

“There is a spin around kick and now I think we will need a doctor”

the reason I know her name and not his is that he keeps saying it.

“Ok, Milica Djuricić, two time gold medalist… what are these athletes thinking right now?”

I suspect it’s because he is a more experienced commentator than she is (she retired from fighting after the 2020 Olympics) and he’s trying to invite her insight deliberately. the other thing about her being a former athlete is that she is way quicker to disagree with the referees, and it’s hilarious.

“To me, (x) is fighting better, but the scores do not reflect this.”

I don’t know how much longer the taekwondo is going on, but if you want some amusing commentary, please tune in! I knew nothing about this sport beforehand and now I am invested.

[midnightactual]

PSA: Any Problems You Have With Yoruichi Are YOUR Problems

Because I've been thinking about this and kind of building to this conclusion for a while, with things like PSA: Some Muses Won't Open Up To Yours and Yoruichi As An Embodiment Of War, and older pieces like What Yoruichi Wants and The Duality of Yoruichi I want to finally address an ask I got almost two years ago.

(I am not going to restate the premises of those various articles here because... I already did that; it's your responsibility to read them to gain a further understanding of Yoruichi than what I present here.)

While I accept the ending commentary of that ask, which states that it was meant as constructive criticism and not as an attack, I still want to fully explain something so that nobody interacting with this blog is under any illusions. I choose to do this because this seems to be a recurring problem, and this ask is simply illustrative of an issue that people cannot seem to understand as it is largely outside of their lived experience. So, the pertinent part:

I think you fail to talk enough about Yoruichi's flaws and weaknesses. Just everything she behaves as is this ultimate badass who's powerful and narratively always correct. (She has a motorcycle, 3 degrees, is always on the right side of history, was doing things in WW2 that no other woman was doing (tho maybe they were and i just don't know enough about enough history) she has the tech to go to space, she doesn't need Kisuke or Tessai because she's already smart enough and a talented enough inventor to do it all herself, she has an app for everything that might be minorly inconveniencing, shes a coding genius, etc.). It makes her feel a little flat and feels limiting for her growth and development as well as making her hard to write with bc nothing mine or others muses can do will contribute in a meaningful way. Her weaknesses according to you seem to be 1) she doesn't kill if she can avoid it (but she will if she needs to) 2) She's private 3) ????? that feels like it?????

There are some technical mistakes in this description like: while it's true that she has three degrees, two Bachelor's and one Master's, it's functionally two as one is a continuation of the other; she has quite limited programming skills and doesn't write consumer-grade software, just some functional hardware-level code; her most widely-used solution to inconveniences, the Aifōn, was invented by Kisuke and she would barely claim to understand how it works; and probably some more things I could nitpick. But that isn't really the thrust of this argument.

The argument being made here is that Yoruichi is too perfect and too good at what she does, which seems to this commentator to be everything (although it isn't by any means); essentially, that she's bordering on if not outright actually a Mary Sue.

I'm here to tell you that's exactly what she wants you to believe. Not just your muse(s). You. The mun. She's almost permanently engaged in an active and deliberate psychological warfare campaign against anyone observing her. She's like Medusa, except instead of turning you to stone, the goal of her behavior is to rotate you and to on some level intimidate you so that you don't question her, her work, or her activities. Her purpose in doing this is to be outside the control of you and your muse(s), or anyone else for that matter. She perceives that as freedom, not having no responsibilities or obligations.

There is only one (1) exception to this in her mainline continuity, and she married her. (Digi's Kūkaku.)

There were also only really two (2) times she opened up to muses she felt could maybe take it, and that was received poorly by both when they got to see what was really under the surface. (Plou's Grimmjow and Rach's Hōgyoku.)

Now, maybe your muse(s) never felt or noticed anything was off, in which case congratulations: they're normal people who think about things a normal amount. But maybe your muses did feel or notice something was off, in which case congratulations: they're sensitive or insightful.

So, do they feel inferior or inadequate around Yoruichi for some nebulous reason you can't quite put your finger on? Do you feel like there's always this thin layer of separation between them if you really focus hard on that distance, like fiber optic glass but it seems as hard as diamond? Does it always feel like Yoruichi is playing with your muse, or toying with or finessing them some? Does it feel like some kind of calculations are happening?

It's supposed to feel that way if they can perceive it.

That means I'm doing my job as a mun. Does this bother you as a mun for some reason? If so, that's bleed! And that means:

If you don't like that, that is a you problem.

My muse is in character (more on why later). I am not going to write her out of character for you to feel better or to satisfy your muse(s). That point is non-negotiable. Furthermore, I won't tolerate any suggestions made to me as a result that she's invulnerable and therefore perfect, when I've written scenes like this, and drabbles like this, this, and this.

You aren't entitled to seeing her vulnerable, nor are you entitled to believing that you not seeing her vulnerable means she never is. Your lack of attention or interest is also a you problem.

If you don't like that, there's the door. There are other great variants of Yoruichi around, be they standalone or multimuse. I encourage you to seek them out. (You should do that anyway, and I generally feature their promos in solidarity whenever I become aware of one.) We don't need your custom here, and we won't compromise to have it. I do not care about being your one-stop-shop for Yoruichi, nor do I care about being part of a collection. If you don't like what happens here, leave.

Having made my red lines nicely bright and clear, let's talk about the why of this.

I said earlier that this misunderstanding exists because "people cannot seem to understand as it is largely outside of their lived experience." What the fuck does that actually mean?

Yoruichi is a supersoldier, and odds are you don't personally know any supersoldiers. I'm sure you've seen them portrayed, but most of those were written by civilians who know little to nothing about the nearest actual equivalent, special forces operators. You see, a true supersoldier isn't a mindless killing machine. They have to be highly adaptable to any circumstance, and that actually means being exceptionally personable, socially aware and intelligent, and diplomatic. One generally has to be a people person.

If you don't believe me, consider that most of what Western special forces have been doing for the last 20+ years in places like Afghanistan, Iraq, and Syria is interacting with the locals to get them on-side and keep them that way, especially in "tribal" areas. That's why the most common recurring euphemism for special forces is "military advisors". They talk a lot more than they shoot. They cut deals. They smooth things out. They only do action movie stuff when that fails.

This long-form quote appeared very early on here and got no play, but is I think quite important to understanding who Yoruichi really is.

Yoruichi is kind of like a combination of Master Chief Petty Officer John-117, Todd "3465", Jason Bourne, Angus MacGyver, Bruce Wayne, James Bond, and Hal, in a body that would make Bebe Rexha or Shakira blush. I've never made any secret of this. I've been over it again, and again, and again. The difference is that all the apparent weaknesses of those examples are sanded down or filled in and hidden behind a mirror shine. Of course they are! She's the Princess of, and then the actual Clan Head of, one of the Five Great Noble Clans, the most powerful political entities in existence which literally control reality itself and collectively serve as its de facto Emperor. Oh, and she was the first woman to hold that title too. I've talked about that too, as well as how it relates to Kūkaku and why the latter is the exemption (short answer: she can relate fully).

What exactly would make you think that displaying any weakness of any kind at any time is acceptable, given that?

Does that mean no weaknesses exist? No! Not by any stretch of the imagination. She has plenty of trauma of all kinds. She has hang-ups and worries and foibles and doubts. I've been over that again and again too. It's the bulk of her history, no matter how dryly it's related. This is also literally canon:

Do you notice how almost all of this is her internal thoughts, and although she ends with dialogue, she's out all by herself on the lip of Sōkyoku Hill at dawn? She only slips and voices her doubts out loud to someone else once at like the ultimate moment of tension:

Even when her own little brother was bleeding out and poisoned, she kept her cool:

Let me be emphatically clear: your muse(s) are not going to get through Yoruichi's surface layers, her presentation, her mask that she wears to fool them, unless she wants it.

Most of the time she doesn't. It doesn't end well. Other people can't relate. They can't handle it.

Even when she does want to let the mask slip, unless your blog URL is crashingheavens, you're only seeing so deep.

Let me be even clearer: whatever other muse is not so special as to be the chosen one that breaks down what is in this space 430 years of training, conditioning, and self-refinement. That is not a dig at that muse, that is a testament to Yoruichi's own individual strength, knowledge of herself, and self-assuredness.

If your conception of your own muse is so great that you need them to be the chosen one who can do that, you don't belong here. The job is filled.

She is not here to indulge your selfishness. Neither am I. This is Yoruichi's character as I see her. Some things are mutable, some things are not. What we're discussing here is in the latter category. I don't make any apology for that, nor will I ever. That's just how she is.

This doesn't mean another muse can't have a profound impact on her, as the quoted ask fears! Plenty have!

I've cited three examples already, with Kisuke, Grimmjow, and the Hōgyoku, but I'll provide another two with Ururu here and here. Something you'll notice though is that these examples happened largely on Yoruichi's own terms. That's the secret!

Yoruichi doesn't need your muse. That isn't an insult, nor does it mean she doesn't want them around. It only means she will not ever be codependent upon them.

Having laid all this out, this now functions as my warning sign on the matter, and I won't hesitate to tap the sign going forward if anyone complains about this kind of thing to me ever again.

[nautilusopus]

3, 14, 18 (bonus/optional: 21)

3) What fic of yours do you think is underrated?

I mean you were directly there when I griped for ages about how little traffic Tidewaters was getting lol (thank you for the art it's fucking gorgeous.

obligatory shilling everyone please look at it thank you

Also The Number I because I put a LOT of work into it but adjusted for time it honestly has pretty abysmal traffic for a fic of its type. Gen really is a killer sometimes.

14) What is something you wrote in a fic that you are hoping readers picked up on but you don't know if they did? And/or, what is something that you were excited that readers did pick up on?

A lot of the main cast are actually exhibiting many symptoms of mental illness! It's true!

Technically not anything I've written, but I really really wanted to do a fic at one point where Cloud and some other randos find these old Cetra ruins postgame and there's all these warnings about DO NOT ENTER THIS AREA that they ignore because, well, it's ancient magical ruins and there's obviously some monster or curse they set up to guard the place, but that's not really a deterrent to JRPG characters, you know? And they figure, well, obviously it's some sort of weapon like the Black Materia, we need to investigate properly. And the further they journey in the more skeeved out they get because so far they've encountered nothing dangerous but the warnings get more and more insistent, and some of the guys start feeling ill but they can't find anything in any toxicology tests. They're not being poisoned by the food or the air, they're just dying for no discernible reason. And then they reach the centre and there's just nothing there except one more warning, and they last just long enough to translate one line on the plaque at the centre, which says, "This is not a place of honour." And then Cloud, who has been tanking the symptoms better than a lot of them so far, throws up blood. THE END!

The main problem with that whole thing was that I was told it wasn't likely enough people would get the reference for the ending to be anything but confusing and nonsensical, and going any more overt felt, to me, obnoxiously hand-holdy and hurr-hurr-reference-do-you-get-it, so I scrapped the idea. Might return to it one day.

I also hope people are picking up on the whole like... commentary in TNI about the inherent futility of puzzling out which parts of you are separate from you and how there is no such thing as the true self and never will be.

18) What's the most obscure thing you've researched for a fic?

"How hard would my readers strangle me if I tried to go full conlang?"

Fun fact about conlangs! Nobody likes reading OR writing them, and so I don't know why they keep turning up in things. Of all the stuff I scrapped I'm the most glad about that bit going straight into the garbage.

[beefmastersblog]

Cyberpunk: Edgerunners

I typically am not someone who enjoys any kind of fighting anime or the cyberpunk genre. In fact, until this piece, I had no idea that cyberpunk was a genre. But I have heard of this piece before this class, but never had any interest in watching it. In fact, I was pretty disappointed when it was selected as our class choice. But I was pleasantly surprised by this anime, I actually ended up watching the whole thing (because I am sick and have nothing else to do) and I ended up enjoying it.

Cyberpunk: Edgerunners is a story about a society that is so messed up that it fails basically everyone in it: everything is heavily dictated by money, you cannot trust anyone, and the only way to escape it is to go to another celestial body (which also requires money). It follows David Martinez, a street boy who attends a preppy school but doesn't fit in, and his adventures after he acquires a military grade piece of cyberwear.

One theme that I want to touch on that is very noticeable within the first few episodes is the idea of money, and a society so overrun by it, that it no longer cares about it's citizens. David's mother slaves away at her job to make sure that he is able to attend the best school possible, because she fears that if he doesn't, he is just going to end up like her, not having enough money to run their washing machine. However, we see that he doesn't fit in at this school, and he is an outsider because he is poor and doesn't have the same posh, stuck up attitude as all of the other kids. This comes in on a later theme. But, the whole slaving away to pay for his schooling is sad enough, but when they get into the car accident, as he is crying for help for them, the medical team walks up, scans them, sees that they are not a member of their specific insurance plan, and then leaves them there to die. And when a rinky-dink hospital takes them in and his mother ends up dying, instead of condolences, David, now an orphan, is bombarded with funeral packages, listing the different costs of funeral services. I think this is a sad commentary on the prioritization that money has in our world today.

Another major thing I wanted to talk about was David being constantly outcasted by his peers. I think that the constant bullying and the fact that he was treated as lesser than, really developed his personality into one that fights hard to be not just equal but "built different". I think that his body did have an unusual ability to support the cyber wear, but he went way too far beyond his limits, even after his friends told him it was too much, and after watching Maine die because of it. But I think that ties into this idea of knowing and acknowledging your own limits. The same thing could have been said for Maine. If either of them were simply willing to recognize when they reached their capacity, and either removed the cyber wear or stopped using it like their friends advised them to, then they could have likely remained alive. I think that having the ability to recognize your own limits and weaknesses is actually a very important strength, and it was very sad to see David losing it in his last moments.

Those were the two main things that I wanted to talk about, but I also thought the idea of going to the moon to escape how horrible reality on Earth is, is very reminiscent of another anime we watched in this class (a place further than the universe). I thought it was very interesting as well, because we see that the cyberpunk universe is also completely dictated by money, with those having money being the people in power and those without always getting the short end of the stick. Lucy's dream reminded me a lot of that idea of emancipation from capitalism.

But yeah, I liked this anime. I will admit, I enjoyed the first 4 episodes significantly more than I enjoyed the last 6, only because it started to feel a little too basic for my tastes, and I enjoyed the deeper storyline of the first few episodes of this show. It actually reminded me a lot of Dorohedoro, another anime on Netflix, but I will admit, I thought that one was executed better from start to finish. But I thought the characters were pretty cool and I really enjoyed the piece overall. It was a very interesting watch and although by no means would I rate it a masterpiece, it was pretty good and I'm glad I have finally watched it so I can engage in the exchange of cultural capital with it now.

[amerrierworld]

Little Songbird (pt 2)

Part 1: x

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu becomes addicted to your voice and wants to hear you… sing some more.

Characters: Alcina Dimitrescu x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,870

Warnings: The Smut Chapter~

Over the next few days, Lady Dimitrescu barely caught a glance of you. Either you were overworking yourself, or avoiding her. The thought made her bristle with annoyance, mostly aimed at herself. Had she scared you off?

Down below in the servants’ quarters, you tried your best not to pay attention to the rush of heat that went through your body every time you remembered Lady Dimitrescu’s lingering gaze on you. 

You hadn’t seen her, or frankly you had tried avoiding her. You kept to your duties, overworking yourself, distracting yourself, wondering if what you felt was unholy. Wondering if she felt the same.

“Lady Dimitrescu has asked you to clean her personal study,” the head housemaid said one day in the kitchens. You paled a little, nearly dropping the plate you were drying off.

“..Oh?”

“You’re to go there after dinner tonight.” She was absent-mindedly polishing some of the silverware at the counter, not noticing how you had reacted. “The Lady will run you through what’s needed.”

“She.. she’ll be there?” 

“Yes, of course," she replied, “she’d never let any of us in by ourselves. I would know.”

She definitely would. It was only her that would ever be allowed in Lady Dimitrescu’s study to clean. But she didn’t seem to mind it was you who was on that duty tonight... you dreaded the massive list of things you would probably have to do. Was this a punishment?

“Clean yourself up before you go.” She eyed your dirtied apron and ashy skirt. “No use if you're just going to mess up what you’ll be cleaning.”

And so, with fresh clothes and your face scrubbed clean of grease, you made your way up through the castle levels to get to the study. On the way, you heard faint buzzing down the hall. 

You turned to see dark robes disappearing around the corner, and suddenly the dimly-lit hallway was a lot more ominous and foreboding than before. Hurrying down the direction you needed to go, you tried not to drop any of your supplies as your heart-rate picked up.

Just around the corner, you kept thinking, just a little further and-

“Boo!” 

You shrieked, shock coursing through your body in a split second as Miss Daniela appeared right in your face when you turned the last corner. Her bloodied mouth split into a wide, cunning smile at your reaction, your face flushing red in embarrassment and sudden fear.

“Oh, now that was fun, wasn’t it?” she cackled, circling around you with the curiosity of a feline, far too close for comfort, “I haven't seen you up here before.”

The water in your bucket had managed to spill over the side in your jump, and you felt your stockings and shoes soaking through. You grimaced at the feeling and Miss Daniela could only giggle.

She tugged at your hair like a bratty younger sibling as she disappeared in a swarm of insects that buzzed around your head, calling after you,

“Have fun~” 

You felt the water squish in your shoes as you walked the last few steps towards the intimidating double-doors of Lady Dimitrescu’s personal study.

It wasn’t anything like the last study you had cleaned. It felt massive to you- everything must have been custom made for her. The chairs, the desk, the bookcase. You’d have to do some real climbing to clean all the nooks and crannies in here.

But it was the piano in the centre of the room that really caught your eye. It was dark- but not quite black. There was a rich, deep red sheen to it, and just like everything else in the room, it seemed to tower above you.

And her- 

Lady Dimitrescu was already in her nightly attire- a long-sleeved nightgown. It was a cream colour, as always, and you wondered if the light was a little stronger, how sheer the fabric would be..

“Ah, there you are.” Lady Dimitrescu’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you straightened up a little. “Come closer, little songbird. Into the light.”

The nickname made you blush furiously, though you did as she asked. So she hadn’t forgotten you. Was that supposed to be a relief? The squish of your shoes made you grimace, and from the way her eyes trailed down, she heard it as well.

“Did it rain on the way here?” she asked, dryly. You looked down at the carpet, clutching your supplies. You were leaving footprints behind. You’d definitely have to clean that thoroughly.

“I- I spilled some water on the way here. I.. tripped,” you said. You didn’t think ratting out her daughter would put the Lady in a good mood. 

Her expression didn’t prove to you that she believed you, but she let it be. She picked up a small sheet of paper with listed chores and handed it to you without much thought.

You expected an explosive list of unending duties, but you were quite surprised with the sparse instructions. Dust the bookshelves, sweep under the piano, scrub the floors...

This was one of the few rooms in the entire castle that looked, quite frankly, immaculate. Everything seemed to have a place already, so you really didn’t need to do much at all.

You quietly set to work without any further commentary, and didn’t catch the way Lady Dimitrescu watched you from her desk when you came into her peripheral vision. The letters from Mother Miranda didn’t register in her mind as she listened to you work, hoping for the sound of your voice. Then she heard you hum, lightly, only for you to catch yourself mid-dusting, and stop altogether.

When you got to the piano, you needed to move the bench to get under and sweep, but when you pushed against the heavy piece of furniture, it screeched against the floor, startling both of you.

“Sorry,” you squeaked, barely audible. You looked up and caught her deep yellow eyes staring at you intently, and something stirred deep inside you.

“I didn’t know you played,” you commented once you realized Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t going to say anything to break the awkward silence. In fact, she adored seeing you so flustered and shy, and didn’t want it to end.

“I don’t often,” she eventually replied. She stood up from her desk, and you nearly snapped your neck keeping your eyes on hers as she rose above you.

You hurried out of the way as she came to sit on the bench. Lady Dimitrescu lifted the fallboard and a soft, light chord rung out as she pressed down on the keys. 

“Can you match pitch?” She was testing some of the sound in various chords, simple but effective. You watched her fingers dance, only to realize you had not seen her without gloves before now. The nails were painted in a dark, deep red. Her fingers were long and pale, and the skin on the backs of her hands were marred with little silvery scars. You wondered what they tasted like.

She gestured for you to come sit next to her, and you clambered up on the bench to kneel on the cushion. Lady Dimitrescu played a little more as you hummed along with the chords. 

“Sing a song for me, pet,” she said, without glancing towards you. Her hands stilled to give you a moment to think, but your brain was only short-circuiting. It was like all of a sudden, every known song had disappeared from your memory.

Then a finger tapped your chin and lifted your head up to gaze into her eyes, and you sighed in contentment at the physical touch. 

Her eyebrow quirked a little, as if barely registering the sound you made. 

“No? No ideas?” she asked. Her perfume was that much denser when close to you, and it overwhelmed you. You could only weakly shake your head, nerves churning in your stomach.

“Well, we can’t have that,” she hummed. “I still want to hear you, little one.”

“I’m sorry...” you began, but she tutted. She’d make you sing in a.. different way. She wasn’t going to let you go after all those agonizing days without getting to hear you properly.

The hand that was holding your chin dropped down to your thigh. Your eyes were still adoringly glued to her face as she dropped the fallboard back over the keys. It nearly made her blush.

The world surged around you as you were suddenly lifted up from your seat. You were put on top of the piano, facing Lady Dimitrescu, and she nudged your legs apart so she could lean forward a little more. Your eyes were level with hers now, and you caught a flash of her white teeth as she smiled, lovingly, but devilishly. 

“Do you think you can sing well?” she asked, one hand wrapping around the entirety of one of your ankles. You immediately shook your head. The dampness of your feet and legs caught her attention, and she tutted again.

“Off,” she ordered, leaning away, before wiping her hand on her dress. You hurriedly did as she asked, tugging down your still-wet stockings, ripping a little bit of the fabric, but you couldn’t mind with the way Lady Dimitrescu was eyeing you.

“Good girl.”

You clamped your thighs together, and she definitely didn’t miss that. Her hand went back to wrap around your ankle, now fabric-free. The other reached out to cup the side of your jaw, trailing down and wrapping around your neck, squeezing lightly for less than a second. Then it lowered even more and undid the top button of your dress.

“Still want to stay and sing for me, little songbird?” she asked, her hand lingering, but not moving from its spot. “Your tasks are long done.”

That was not true, you hadn’t even swept yet. But you slowly began to realize maybe the chores had nothing to do with you coming up here tonight.

The question burned deep inside you, and Lady Dimitrescu looked like she wasn’t going to move until you gave your consent. Though you loved the tension that was building, you began to feel restless.

“Yes, please.” You inched your legs a little wider, and her smile grew. 

“Such a pleasant sound, your voice,” she said, as her hand from your ankle trailed up your leg. “I was enraptured many weeks ago, when I heard you for the first time.”

“You.. you’ve heard me before?” you gasped a little, because her cool fingers pressed against the sensitive inside of your thighs. You thought you were always alone when you sang during work.

“Oh yes,” she grinned, “now sing for me, little pet. Make all the noise you want.”

Her mouth was on yours in an instant, filling your lungs with perfume and warm breath. The buttons on your dress came apart as her hands pulled at them one by one. Your skirt was pushed up, and then she pressed down on your torso to get you to lie on your back. The piano was smooth and cold beneath, and there was a brief moment you regretted that it was definitely going to be dirtied by what was to come. But then Lady Dimitrescu’s mouth latched onto your neck and all thoughts evaporated from your brain. 

There was a pinch as she nipped at the soft skin between neck and shoulder, making your back arch and your body lift off the piano.

“Hmm.. delightful,” she growled. Her large hands slid up your dress and your entire lower half was exposed.

“Oh, I can smell you,” she sighed. She pulled back only a moment to tug the dress off your whole body. Your fingers scrabbled against the piano’s slick surface as you felt your nipples harden at her touch.

She sat back on the bench and scooted forward, leaning down to inhale your alluring smell as you lay there, gasping for air. 

“Now.” She pulled your legs apart, eyes zoning in on your cunt. “I want to hear you sing.”

Her mouth pressed against your folds and a warm, wet tongue slipped up to catch your clit. A squeal escaped you and she kissed it a little more in reward.

“That’s it. More.”

Her fingers dug into your thighs before she began sucking and licking almost aggressively. Your body was trembling with every swipe of her tongue, every delicate nibble on your folds.

Your gasps rose in volume, your voice breaking in small squeaks and whimpers. Though she adored it when you carried a tune, this was much more satisfying. 

Her tongue pressed inside without any hesitation. You felt it curl and push inside you, catching your wetness and scent. A low growl in the back of her throat made you cry out, and her grip tightened even more.

It wasn’t going to take long, you realized. The despair in her relentless tongue, her piercing eyes watching your body rise and drip with sweat made the coil tighten with every passing moment. 

Her pupils were blown, and every time you let out another sound, she pressed on a little harder, a little faster.

“Oh!” Her tongue had slipped out and were replaced by two thick fingers. Your cry of delight earned you her warm lips wrapping around your clit, and you couldn’t help but grab at her head of thick, smooth hair. 

The curls slipped delightfully through your fingers and you were watching the ceiling, trying to make out the shapes in the darkness, until she pulled away and said,

“Eyes on me, dear. Nowhere else.”

You had to hoist yourself up with one hand to watch her, and she got back to work immediately. Eyes locked, one hand in her hair, and hers wrapped around you so tightly you couldn’t move away. 

“Fuck..” you hissed out as her fingers curled. Her eyes flashed; she seemed to like it, so you kept going.

“Please..” you begged, hips trying to buck in her hold, “oh, please please.. it feels..s-so good.”

Your thighs had been completely smeared by her lipstick, or those were bruises forming from her grip. Either way, the marks made your head spin with arousal. 

“Please don’t stop... Please, don’t ever stop.” You were gasping, trying hard to focus on your words, but then her mouth sucked hard on your clit, and you were lost in meaningless sounds and little cries of pleasure as you came.

She didn’t stop, revelling in your gasps and broken whimpers, music to her ears. When your body began pulling away and you felt a tingling sensitivity every time she tried to touch your clit again, that was when she knew to let you go. 

Lady Dimitrescu sat back a moment, basking in the sight of you, wet and spent, spread out over her piano and with cum dripping down your thighs. She lifted her hand and wiped her mouth with the back of it to catch any further stray lipstick, but she didn’t quite catch all of it. 

When you could finally breathe normally, you sat up slowly and trembled again under her piercing gaze. 

Your small hands reached out to cup her cheeks, startling her. She thought you’d dash off with your bucket and leave immediately. You inched closer and used your thumbs to wipe the last bits of lipstick, and then kissed her. Soft, sweet, just like your singing. 

You peppered her lips and chin with kisses for a few minutes. She allowed all of it, held you close as you breathed her in. You shifted, feeling your body unstick from the piano with an unsavoury sound and you pulled a face, making her laugh. It made you giddy inside.

You stayed like that for a long while, and you relished in how warm and soft she was. 

“Perhaps you can sing again for me sometime,” she suggested, “an actual song.”

You buried your head into the crook of her neck, making a whiny noise in the back of your throat. She said she liked your singing, yes, but it still intimidated you. Whether it was nerves, or the fact it was her that was listening.. but you did want to please her. Always.

“You realize you sing beautifully, little one?” she eventually asked. “Even when I’m not inside you?”

You let out a burst of giggles and she lovingly kissed your shoulder. The glee of her enjoying your voice and the aftermath of your orgasm soared like butterflies inside you.

“You best get back to your duties,” she hummed, though her hand curved around your waist and held you close, like she wasn’t going to let you go. “The shelves in this castle aren’t going to dust themselves.”

You laughed again, feeling adoration swell up inside you as you ran your fingers through her loosened locks of hair. 

“...can I come back tomorrow night?” you asked feebly.

She chuckled, low and sultry, and tipped your head up to look at her, “you can come whenever you want.”

Your face went beet-red in a matter of second and she grinned widely.

“But tomorrow night.. come to my chambers. And don’t bother with your supplies. Won’t want you getting wet again... at least not like that.”

A/N: thank you all for the love on part 1 ☺️ I hope this meets your expectations <3

[camelotsheart]

4x12 and 4x13 is so fascinating to look at from a merthur perspective because I consider it a commentary on the concept of a Merlin and Arthur who tries to abandon their destiny.

At that point, Arthur is at his absolute low. He feels like he's been betrayed by people he once loved, he feels like he's disappointed the kingdom that he puts has put his heart and soul into building. Arthur only ever wanted to become king because he loved the people of Camelot and thought they loved him (and they do). So when he thinks they don't want him anymore, when he feels like his dedication to his kingdom only resulted in betrayal, he releases his position.

And up till that point, Merlin is the only person who hasn't disappointed him. We talk about how beautiful Arthur's vulnerability is when he says "you're the only friend I have and I don't want to lose you" - but that's not true. He does have friends other than Merlin. The people of Camelot love him. But at that time it feels like Merlin is the only one who does.

And it's fascinating to notice that the thing which in the end sets Arthur off is the fact that Tristan berates him for not being kingly because he 1) saves a servant and 2) is willing to get his hands dirty by collecting firewood. Arthur is frustrated because he's being criticised for showing care to the only person he truly cares about at that point. And the part of getting his hands dirty reminds me a lot of what he said in 3x10.

ARTHUR: Sometimes I dream of leaving Camelot... Somewhere were nobody knew who I was... I’d get some land and become a farmer.

GWEN: I can hardly see you toiling away in the fields all day.

ARTHUR: Obviously, I’d take Merlin with me. He can do all the hard work.

How I see this parallel is as follows: Arthur gives up Camelot - the thing that has only brought him hurt - and turns to his dreams of escapism as a farmer, which includes a life with Merlin as the only person he truly cares about at that time. And from what I see, this parallel is further explored in the form of Tristan and Isolde, because they are basically a metaphor for a Merlin and Arthur who have given up on their destiny to live their own lives. 

Tristan and Isolde showed how even if Merlin and Arthur decided to leave, they could never have escaped their destiny because they care too much about others.

Arthur “cares about his people more than he cares about himself”, and nothing needs to be said about Merlin’s love for people. Even if they had both “promised not to involve [themselves] in other people’s wars”, like Tristan and Isolde had, their conscience would eventually catch up to them. Just as Tristan and Isolde ended up fighting alongside Arthur because they came to believe in him. 

Tristan is very protective of Isolde, and Isolde knows this; she’s the one that convinces Tristan to trust Merlin and Arthur even when Tristan has a hatred for royalty because they never helped when his whole village was killed. Isolde is the only person that Tristan truly cares about, and it takes a lot for him to even start trusting Arthur. He is desperate in trying to protect Isolde, and even though he initially succeeds in saving her, his fears come true. Isolde dies before they can ever achieve their dreams of buying a piece of land and settling down.

And Arthur, too, never achieves his dreams. At least the one that involved a quiet life on a farm. But what he does achieve is building a life with Merlin. Or more exactly, building a kingdom.

The thing is, Arthur didn’t really regain his confidence when he pulled Excalibur from the stone. That night, he was still walking around with an introspective mood, as if perplexed why the sword thought him worthy. But the morning after Merlin tells him that he believes Arthur will unite Albion and create the greatest kingdom the world has ever known, Arthur jokes to Merlin “I thought you had faith in me”, which is beautiful because that transition is almost saying that Arthur found his worth through Merlin’s constant unyielding belief in him.

And from that point on, particularly in season 5, Arthur always looks to Merlin when he wants to decide how to govern his kingdom. He does this during his final confrontation with Odin, he does this when he asks “is that what you’d want?” and “what should we do?” when discussing the returning of magic to camelot in 5x05, he does this when he goes up against the ghost of his father, he does this when deciding what to do with Mordred and Kara. Continuously, Arthur asks to Merlin - Is this the kingdom you want? 

Why? Because Arthur decided that the only way he could repay Merlin’s loyalty to him was to bring about the kingdom Merlin dreamed of. The kingdom Merlin believed Arthur would build.

Arthur retook his kingship for Merlin. 

Arthur built Camelot for Merlin.

[fromtheashesweriseif]

I understand where bi anon was coming from, it's of course important not to do something like this just out of spite, but I'm quite sure that's not what's happening here. "Letting the player choose the ros genders and “risking” having straight people play the game is a better option than indirectly invalidating the many Queer identities that include the opposite gender and would like to be able to romance a variety of gender identities." When it comes to this part I have to ask why it would be invalidating to other Queer identities that there exists a game that only caters to same gender attraction? There are quiet numerous games in If where you can choose the gender of the RO's. I see this happen often when a game or another piece of media caters to a very specific audience, that it gets seeing as a bad thing. We can all agree that it's not good when the majority of the general media is heteronormative, however a few games in the If community that are focused on gay relationships are not the same thing, not even close. A game like this does not erase other Queer identities, it focuses on a specific part in that group. We can't expect all media and art to cater to everyone all the time (now this can be done wrong and out of spite, but I am talking about good fate catering). That puts an incredible pressure especially on creators that do it for a hobby or don't have a huge following. It expects independent creators to become a form of justice to battle against the majorly heteronormative media, but that's not something you can expect from anyone. Exploring all Queer identities is incredibly important and should be done in different ways. One good way is something like this game, a focus on one small part of it. That way you can explore that identity in a much more broad and deeper way. Just like many people in the If community, I think it's amazing that you can choose the gender of the Ro's, but I don't think I'm the only one who has noticed that sometimes this creates a scenario where nothing about that gets explored deeply and (this includes mass media) is shown under a heteronormative light. This really isn't done out of a bad place most of the time, but it naturally happens when someone who doesn't know much about Queer identity tries to include it and it also happens because of time and complexities of variety. This is what many games like Dragon Age do as well. You can technically play the whole game without ever knowing that an Ro is bi, they just become what you want. Zevran was changed from gay to bi so the female audience could have more romance options (at least later on in Inquisition we have Dorian). This is great for "diversity" of choice, but what about the deeper parts of it all? It can and often does just completely erase identity and the complexities of attraction. I think it's also good to point out that this also happens to gay Ro's in an otherwise bi or hetero cast. "Why not just make them gender selectable?", gets asked often by people who want them to be the opposite gender, probably with no further thought to identity and how offensive that is. To end this I want to make it clear for Anon that this is not written to make light out of your message, but I think without noticing it yourself, it ignores the complexity of Queer identity and makes it sound like it's better that Ro's cater to everyone. As I explained it is a nice idea and I don't think we should stop doing it, however that often causes all depth of identity to disappear. This can be done in a way that there is good commentary depending on the MC's and Ro's gender, but I rarely ever see it happen. Catering to a specific audience can be good, especially when we talk about a minority.

.

[tartagilicious]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐈 - 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒; i genuinely believe this is what will put me at my lowest point. i am psychotic. slightly embarrassed to post this. i literally spent a day doing nothing more than studying the dynamic of a fictional couple with four scenes together. is this who i am?? is this what i was made for?? anyways, love talking to people about this movie and pretending that i like it a normal and socially acceptable amount. i really felt like these characters were glossed over, and fair, i know the writers probably didn't expect them to be so popular, but now we're left with the damage of 2,500 years of blank space, so let me map out my interpretation of their relationship for you! i hope this series is renewed so i can make a second part of this post in 3+ years (●'◡'●) if i don't go crazy first.

✧･ﾟ: if you have any of your own thoughts, or simply want to add commentary, you’re more than welcome to add them in the replies! this will be updated if we get any new additional information/my understanding changes <3

✧･ﾟ: major spoilers for the eternals movie ahead!!

𝟏.𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

-> in babylon, 500BC, is when we're first introduced to the cast. they're all seen doing different things in this build-up, but one thing i noticed is how druig and makkari were almost always together in these scenes. after reading the comic “eternals: 500 year war” (which is available for free on webtoon!) the assumption of them being something close to partners could be made. there’s kind of an extra layer of flirtation there, seen from the way they interact he addresses her as “the beautiful makkari” — though, at this point, i personally would chalk it up to that mostly being their dynamic at that point

-> i’d like to say that they loved each other then but 🧍🏼‍♀️ it was probably more of a friendship kind of love, and more likely just crushes that they had been sitting on for thousands of years. ofc, we don’t know anything about their past tho!!! they only had four scenes together!! >:’)

-> aside from that, taking into account this period of time, it seems as though makkari is really the one he sticks to. and when remembering their partner-like relationship, this makes sense.(ex: when introduced, when thena first lost control, when druig was arguing with the others about what to do with the village, essentially every scene in the flashback)

-> honestly, this point is arguable, but i think it's important that the first time he controlled people in the show because of a conflict, it was when people were fighting in front of him and makkari. not only does he listen to her when she touches him to stop, but he thinks nothing of it and jokes back at her. despite the difference in scale to the other main conflict in mind controlling people, druig still has a deep-rooted trauma associated with letting humans fight in front of him no matter what. had someone else been in her shoes, i guarantee he would've been a lot less yielding and would have likely gone further.

-> and forgetting the fact that druig is honestly, generally unpleasant to be around, he seems so considerate with her! he notably stops to listen to what she has to say, and vice versa.

-> something i really wish they would've done, though, is highlight what happened after ajak "set them free". there had to have been a goodbye of sorts. i genuinely can't see makkari as someone who would leave the situation as it, esp knowing that it left someone she cares about really hurt.

-> i personally think that leaves a good chunk of space for her to speed after him, maybe say their goodbyes? hell, maybe she even spent some time with him for a bit in her travels around the world. that might be just me though LMAO. either way, i think this 2,500 year period definitely has some secrets hidden in it 👀

𝟐. 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘

-> ok!! i haven't seen someone say this yet and i need confirmation. maybe this is reaching, but was he nervous to talk to her again? was he wandering around looking to pick up something else just so he could have an excuse to talk to her? it was really cute how that item ended up being the same emerald tablet druig knew she was searching for before, though D: i was surprised that he saw it and immediately made the connection.

-> the transition from "the beautiful makkari" to "my beautiful makkari" is really important here ;-; but, hear me out, i don't think it's entirely romantic either. referencing back to the hypothetical (and tbh realistic possibility) of a goodbye, it would also make sense in that context that she's "his beautiful makkari" as in, his only makkari, that he made a promise to return to so long ago and has finally honoured. i that makes any sense at all. ofc, it also is flirty as hell and that should be acknowledged.

-> also, i know that she can't hear the way he whispers, "did you miss me?" but it's the way he whispered it that gets me. it was so full of feeling and wonder, and he was looking straight into her eyes. you can't tell me he wasn't starstruck. please.

-> i mean, we're pretty much all in agreement that there’s some loving feelings there are this point, right? but when and why did this happen? personally, i think the separation was enough to strengthen the feelings that were already there. it makes sense, too, judging by the way he just went for it like that. druig is probably attempting to make up for some sort of lost time, or maybe even trying to pick up where they left off -- because seeing her has obviously ignited some sort of past feelings.

-> do i think it could've been done better? yeah. a little clarification might've sufficed, but whatever, because it still shows that the two characters care about each other. the flirty comments just go largely unexplained, so we’re left to assume.

-> but, we can't forget that druig is just generally a serious guy. even if he's thrilled to see makkari again, he's still not completely in good graces with everyone, and also wants to hurry up with the plan -- hence a lack of scenes from then on.

𝟑. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐇

-> *keysmash* *rips out hair* *shakes fist at sky* *falls to ground in fetal position* this was so beautifully done. og my gof. when she goes vocal for the first time just to scream when ikarus throws druig into the ground? chef's kiss. they've just reunited after thousands of years, and suddenly she's led to believe that he was taken away from her. if you think about it, it's even more sad, considering the fact that they may be the only one the other person truly had. they were both in isolated roles after being "set free", with druig leading a mind controlled village for centuries, and makkari staying on the ship for that same amount of time. when they came back to, nothing had really changed between them, while the others had developed complicated relationships with the outside world.

-> i think the cinematographers did a really good job with the lighting in this scene. the sunset hitting his back as he showed up out of nowhere, suddenly alive and walking right towards makkari? really nice. and, there’s no hesitation here either. this man that is unpleasant and pretty much eternally pissed off, literally grins as he walks up to her and sways her in his arms. wtf. i'm know i'm weak for the "i hate everyone but her trope", but oh my god?????/ and it's a tight hug too. like, i used this edit as a reference when writing this section, and you can see it!! it’s so heartfelt i am literally decomposing just looking at it.

-> and, obviously, the forehead touch. the whisper of "it's okay, i'm okay." that's so blatantly loving i don't even have to explain it. this whole section is just me gushing. the way they're staring at each other while doing this is also so adorable and telling.

-> and honestly, i thought about this last point for a while. yall are gonna laugh at me because i genuinely agonised over this LMAO ...i don't think this means they're a couple yet. i think mostly, the emotions in this scene come from almost losing someone who has could be more to you. they obviously have feelings for one another, but have never acted on more than flirting.

-> the hug symbolises a change in their relationship, maybe the new willingness to break down boundaries to get there? i think this is done purposefully, because obviously they expect to be making a second movie, and from there it will show how they develop into an actual couple. this is only the beginning of their journey and their story.

-> if you need me i'll be waiting impatiently for them to kiss LMAO

tldr; they’re partner-like friends who have always loved each other in one way or another, open in a flirty way. then reuniting after 2,500 years is essentially a new beginning, and druig’s near-death experience is likely what they need to realise that the kind of love they feel for each other may not be entirely as they expected.

[darthmaulification]

Hey! Can I please make a request for a short Drabble where reader is Grogu’s nanny aboard the Razor Crest and Din develops a crush on her, but once he and the reader start visiting Grogu at Jedi School on weekends, Luke develops a crush as well? Doesn’t have to end up with either, but I would like to see either guy’s rivalry and slight jealousy (with Reader’s obliviousness).

A/N: ... okay so, i really got into the whole crush aspect of your request, anon, and this basically became a romantic prose piece. when i looked back to see what you had initially wanted, my product was... about thrice removed from the original prompt. 💀

i think i got some of the points??? like there’s din and luke and they’re both in love with reader and they both have a bit of rivalry with the other and basically that’s what matters??? please forgive me, anon, the ghost of sappho took my body over and forced me to write yearning love poetry!! 🙏 sis forced my hand!! 😭

though if there’s enough interest for it, i can always make a follow up for this, like from reader’s perspective, and write something a lil more in depth (once i get requests finished up that is). 😊

hope you enjoy! 💗

content: nothing but din and luke pining for reader, gn!reader (for the most part), use of she/her pronouns, fluff, but also a smidgen of angst 👁👁, perspective difference!!, kind of a commentary on mandalorian and jedi culture?? (mostly jedi culture lmao)

word count: 1,524

You’re beautiful.

He sees it now how your face lights up like candles being lit when his son succeeds at doing another one of his Jedi tricks. Joy illuminates your face like a spotlight, your soft cheers and kind praise make the whole room warmer. Din watches Grogu leap into your arms, cooing and squealing like he’s been given candy. It makes Din’s heart leap when you kiss his son on the head, and smile so warmly it’s like your lips become sunshine.

Din is infinitely grateful for his helmet in this moment, his face feels like it’s been too close to a fire. His fingers pick at a fraying stitch on his gloves, to prevent his hands from shaking in his lap. He hopes that the Jedi, who is standing casually across the room near you and Grogu, doesn’t notice. Din hopes you don’t notice what you’re doing to him.

I’m in love. 

The sentence slips through the cracks of his thoughts the way a sunrise peeks over the horizon. You look over at him, holding up Grogu triumphantly in your hands like you would a prize, and he sucks in a breath because suddenly it feels like all he can see is you. You and Grogu, you and his son.

Please be my riduur.

“Did you see that? Wasn’t it amazing?” And Din forces himself to dip his head in a slight nod, because the Jedi is also looking at him with piercing blue eyes the color of the sky. His heart pounding, and when you laugh, and it sounds like summertime when everything is good and happy.

People love, he thinks as he stares at you, and suddenly his palms are sweaty and he feels the need to tap his foot, but Mandalorians love harder.

I dream about you every night, think about you when I lie awake. You’re always holding sunflowers, and the nightmares don’t touch me then.

Mandalorians love like there is nothing else in the universe more valuable, nothing more precious, not their vibroblades, their blasters, or even their beskar.

Giving up a blaster and a vibroblade in order to save you from that hut’uun came to me like breathing, I didn’t even think about it... I would’ve given up my beskar’gam too. I still would.

Mandalorians love with their souls laid bare, they love with their entire body, they love with sacred vows, exchanged beskar rings, their riduur’s name engraved on their hal’cabur, above their heart.

When you slept beside me one night, I whispered the entire marriage vow to you in Mando’a. You looked so peaceful bathed in the light of the moon, the silvery glow making you look holy. I’ll admit, it came out mostly accidentally, but it felt so normal, natural even. I wish you hadn’t been asleep.

Mandalorians love in spite of death, they love in the face of it. They love like warriors.

I had gotten shot. All I remember is you holding me in your arms, hands pressed over the wound. I was in pain, and you were crying, covered in blood and dirt, but you were so warm. I’m still unsure if I had actually said what I think I said:

“I care about you too much to leave you.”

He wants to tell you all of this, but he’s never been much of a romantic, or much of a speaker in general, so the words falter on his tongue each time he’s tried. And Din’s tried so many times. You say something to the Jedi, and it makes a sudden, surprising fury bubble in his chest, the vile rising to his throat. Din has to bite his tongue to hold back from shouting:

Don’t talk to her, di’kut jetii! You are undeserving of her words, of her time, of her presence. Unworthy! You can’t give her what I can, shabuir.

You look over at him again, and the hot anger dies completely, leaving him powerless before you. Din felt this way each time he’s tried to tell you how much you mean to him.

I love you, cyare.

It feels like your eyes are boring holes straight through his beskar, through his flight suit, singing his skin with their warmth. Din bites his cheek so hard he tastes copper.

You smile. It’s like the dawn.

You are the sun— His sun— of his universe, and his eyes burn from the light.

Din basks in the rays, and his heartbeat starts to slow to it’s normal, steady rhythm.

Tomorrow. I’ll tell you tomorrow.

~

You’re beautiful.

He sees it now in how your entire expression blooms into one of pure joy when his padawan successfully levitates the crates. It radiates in your aura, the waves of mirth traveling further than your respectfully quiet cheers and meaningful praise. Luke watches as the child leaps into your embrace, babbling without forming any actual words. Something inside Luke lurches when you place a kiss on Grogu’s head, and when your vibrant smile dissolves his willpower.

Luke draws the Force in on himself, welcoming the sturdiness it brings. He tries to ignore how his palm has gotten sweaty, but he clenches his hand into a fist and hastily relaxes it. Focus, let in calmness like a breeze. Luke hopes that the Mandalorian, sitting stiff and looming on a far bench, doesn’t notice his moment of vulnerability. He pulls the Force closer, and hopes you don’t notice what you’re doing to him.

I’m in love.

The thought springs up in his mind the way shoots of new grass breach top soil in spring time. You glance over at him as you lift the child, and the look is as quick and fleeting as blossoms on trees, but it floats in the Force like dandelion seeds, and Luke is painfully aware of how consuming you are.

Please don’t do this to me.

“Did you see that? Wasn’t it amazing?” And Luke catches your eye, offering you the smallest smile he can afford without it breaking. You look to the Mandalorian, and Luke follows your gaze because he can’t compel himself to do much else. The Mandalorian’s visor is dark like the night, and flashes when he nods his head. Luke feels his heart sink when he senses it from him, a yearning so deep he nearly drowns in it.

People love, Luke thinks and he feels all at once envious and angry and so achingly acquiescent, because Jedi cannot.

I swore by the Code years ago, but I look at you and doubt it all. It can’t be that I’m this willing to rethink everything.

Jedi are forbidden from having attachments, they cannot pursue romantic interests. Love leads to passion, and it all is an influence of the Dark. Luke knows this. He’s fallen to it before.

I’ve spent decades forgetting how deeply I cared for him! But I am reminded daily of my father, every time I look in the mirror, I see his eyes. How dare you pull me back into this cruel trap! I can’t do this again.

Luke contains himself. Jedi value peace of mind, they extend the sentiment to upholding it in the galaxy as well. They do not do it out of love, but out of obligation, out of honor, because of what’s right. They are not love.

When I first met you it was like I’d seen you before, in a past life. It was like retracing my steps, following the trail backwards, revisiting something I had passed. Despite it all, I had moved forward and took my padawan from you and the Mandalorian, plucked him from you like a petal off a flower. I watched you wilt.

Luke reminds himself. Jedi do not love. Focus is key. The Force is everything.

But you are too.

Luke has to swallow in order to make sure the words never reach his mouth, and it’s like eating thorns. You turn back to him and the look in your eyes is tender like butterfly wings. The pink in your cheeks reminds Luke of windflowers.

“Thank you again, Luke,” His soul shivers when his name sounds in your voice, “It’s so kind of you to teach Grogu.”

As he replies and tells you it’s a pleasure, he almost spills everything to you, but an abruptness shifts the energy of the room. There is a lurking anger that crawls at him through the Force, entwines him like ivies. The Mandalorian fumes, the wrath trembles like billowing leaves. Don’t. Undeserving. Unworthy.

Luke forces himself to agree and squashes down everything, pushing each painful emotion into the deepest parts of him. He watches you look to the Mandalorian, your aura flowers with affection, love.

I love you.

His resolve is fading, again. Luke reminds himself, again. Jedi do not love. Jedi do not love. Jedi do not love.

You smile, and it stings his soul like nettle.

Luke forces himself to ignore that your eyes say different things when they settle on the Mandalorian than they had him. The thought feels like eating bittersweet berries.

Briefly, he revels in what could have been.

It’s for the best.

~

A/N: i thought i would add another note at the end of this to explain exactly what the heck i was saying with the word soup i just wrote.

first, din is so hopelessly in love with reader that it hurts. like physically makes his heart ache. i feel that when din falls in love, he falls in love. it consumes him. i wrote a lot of sun/light imagery to portray the overwhelming, all-encompassing love din feels for reader. you are the sun that warms him, and burns him. 

second, i purposely made luke have an even more tragic, even more conflicted crush on reader, on purpose, hahaha i am evil. 😈 he loves you, but forces himself not to. he tells himself that the jedi code means more. luke chooses to suffer because he knows that’s how it must be. there’s some plant/nature symbolism thrown throughout because that’s just the theme that i thought vibed with luke the most.

and that mention of anakin? i subscribe to the headcanon that luke really did love his dad, and just wanted him in his life, but of course, vader ultimately died. luke took a heavy blow from that, learned it hurts to love.

also, regarding the mini-rivalry that takes place, it’s through the force (if that wasn’t obvious) and it’s essentially another example of luke surrendering his own wants/desires and simultaneously din firmly declaring his love for you. it’s kinda meant to be the “understanding” between the two that clearly establishes who “wins” the reader.

... this was all one giant metaphor, huh?

[makeste]

hello! I’ve seen some debate as to whether the 2nd meant allies in general would bolster izuku and although I do think that’s true (ofc any sort of support system that he lets himself rely on would bolster him) I feel like if that was what was meant it would’ve been made clearer? maybe instead of just katsuki showing up, the final panel would’ve had several students burst onto the scene. what are your thoughts?

agreed. and incidentally this is another big reason why it's not Toga. if it was her then Horikoshi wouldn't have devoted any time to OFA II's little hype speech. it just makes it kind of pointless, unless this whole time we've been sleeping on Toga's hidden ability to bolster Deku lmao.

but anyways, yeah. and I mean, Two's commentary here is really just acknowledgement of something we've long since known already. Kacchan is the one who will ultimately be able to reach Deku. we don't actually need a piece of dialogue to tell us this, because the manga has been showing it to us since day one. his resume is fucking stacked. I mean, let's go through it.

he is mean.

I love this you guys. I honest to god love it. because the thing is, if you ask anyone what Kacchan's absolute worst quality is, this would be the obvious answer, right? "he's an asshole" lmao.

but that's exactly what we need right now!! someone who's not afraid to tell it like it is, and won't try to sugarcoat things. someone who's not afraid to argue back and risk hurting someone's feelings. because right now Deku is walking all over anyone who can't do that. All Might tries to feed him lunch and he's like "nah I'm good, anyways bye." Endeavor tries to tell him to rest and he's all "I'm fine" and fucking hangs up the phone. nuh uh. enough of that. what we need is someone who will call him out on his shit. "hah!? don't tell me you're fine when it's obvious to anyone you can barely stand on your own two feet, dumbass."

he is stubborn.

kind of ties into the other thing, but yeah. right now we need a bullheaded asshole who won't take no for an answer if he thinks he's right. good luck trying to sweet talk your way out of this one, Deku.

he understands the situation.

this one is important, because in fairness, simply standing in front of Deku and saying "you shall not pass" isn't gonna be enough to actually accomplish anything here. ultimately he's going to have to be able to reason with Deku too. and so in that respect, it certainly doesn't hurt that Kacchan is someone who understands the OFA situation as well as anyone, and has always had clear judgment about it. he understands the threat of AFO ("they all died young"), and he understands the burden of All Might's legacy. he knows what Deku is dealing with, and that's going to give him an edge when it comes to finding that elusive-yet-critical talk no jutsu knockout blow.

he's been where Deku is now.

Kacchan knows a thing or two about burdens. granted, they've more often than not been ones that he's put on himself, but that didn't make them any less heavy. Deku right now is struggling not just with his feelings of responsibility, but also with all of the misplaced guilt that's feeding into it. AFO is targeting him. if innocent people get caught in the crossfire then that's on him. every minute that AFO stays out there getting stronger and causing more chaos is all on him, because he hasn't defeated him yet. and so on and so forth.

and Katsuki knows what that's like. because he blamed himself for what happened to All Might. that feeling of "if I'd only been stronger" is one that he's intimately acquainted with. that feeling of blaming yourself, of not being able to look someone you care about in the eye because you think it's your fault they got hurt. this is something he knows. this is a road he's already been down. and so if Deku tries to pull any "you don't understand" nonsense, Kacchan is uniquely situated to immediately shoot that shit right down.

he's immune to low blows.

lol I keep thinking of all the different counterarguments that Deku could make, and all the different ways in which Kacchan is perfectly equipped to handle them. anyway, so this particular thing is a very recent development, but very fortunately timed. so as we all know, Kacchan was a first class dick to Deku during their childhood. something which Deku, with his abnormally kind and forgiving nature, has never once confronted Kacchan about, even though he would have absolutely had the right. but anyway, so here's the thing though -- right now I fully believe that Deku can and will do or say just about anything in order to get Kacchan and the others to leave. and that includes hurting them in order to save them. so it would not surprise me at all if Deku goes as far as to throw Katsuki's old, cruel, selfish behavior back in his face as part of a last-ditch effort to get him to back down. desperate times and all that.

and maybe there was a time when that actually would have worked. but here's the other thing -- we know something Deku doesn't. namely, that Kacchan has recently leveled up emotionally and has finally unlocked his atonement quest. he finally understands that it's not all about him. which means that it doesn't matter even if Deku pulls out the big guns. he may hurt his feelings, but he's not going to scare him off, because Kacchan's focus right now is on atonement, not forgiveness. he's not doing this for a pat on the head. he's doing it because it's the right thing to do. and no amount of insults will be able to sway him from that.

he learned from the best.

I said this in another post a couple of weeks back, but yeah. Angsty Nomad Deku has nothing on early Kacchan in terms of pushing people away. early Kacchan was the motherfucking king of pushing peeps away. if you so much as LOOKED at this kid in such a way that SUGGESTED you might even be THINKING about possibly trying to save him, he would straight up throw a ten-year hissy fit lmao. Deku's "All Might, you don't have to tag along anymore"s ain't got SHIT on all of Kacchan's "STAY BACK DEKU"s and "I'D RATHER LOSE!!!"s and "OMFG HOW DARE YOU BE THE ONLY PERSON TO TRY TO SAVE ME FROM THIS RAMPAGING SLUDGE MAN WHO'S ABOUT TO SUFFOCATE ME TO DEATH"s. Kacchan is the undisputed goat here lol.

but anyway, so what this means is that he has accumulated a whole HOST of iconic lines and fateful parallels which he can throw back in Deku's face at a moment's notice. and the best part is that he learned it all from THIS EXACT MOTHERFUCKER, RIGHT HERE. what is Deku even gonna do!! argue against his own past actions?? "well, uh, I guess now that you mention it I should have just sat back and watched you die all those times" OH REALLY?? YOU DON'T SAY. THAT SOUNDS SO CONVINCING.

and so guess what, Deku -- if Kacchan was worth saving, then you're worth saving too. it's an ironclad argument. congratulations son you played yourself.

he always wins.

okay so real talk, we all know that what's really driving Deku right now is his fear of losing people. he's helpless against that. he saw Kacchan get stabbed right before his eyes and it fucked him up. he saw all these other people getting hurt and killed because he couldn't save them, and he straight up could not deal with those emotions at all. he's scared. he's more afraid of that happening again than of anything else. and AFO knows that, and that's why he's resorted to his current tactics, which have isolated Deku even further and caused him to push even All Might away.

what Deku is missing right now, and what he needs to have restored, is trust. trust is the antidote to fear. and when you're as scared as Deku is, it takes an extraordinary amount of assurance in order to ease those fears. basically you don't want to place your faith in anything less than an absolutely sure thing.

but Kacchan is exactly that. this is the exact type of situation that Kacchan's "aiming for the top" overkill confidence was made for. he's the one who never loses!! the hero who's going to surpass all other heroes!! Deku inherited All Might's compassion, but Kacchan inherited his determination. Kacchan is someone who brings reassurance. his confidence is unwavering. and in the end, I think it will be strong enough to pull even Deku back out from the darkness.

he is strong.

Kacchan is Deku's rival in every sense of the word, and I fully believe he's capable of matching him step for step even now. and so Deku can try to push him away, but Kacchan is capable of withstanding that force and staying his ground. Deku can try to run, but Kacchan still has him matched for speed. and as a last resort, Deku can even try to defeat him -- but Kacchan won't ever concede to defeat.

and all of this ties back into what I was saying about trust. because Kacchan is strong. strong enough not to die. strong enough to live. strong enough to not make others worry about him. and that's what Deku so desperately needs right now in order to finally let go of his fears. Deku needs someone who can get him to trust in others again, and to do that, he has to be able to trust in their strength.

and last but not least...

he has a secret weapon up his sleeve.

several, as a matter of fact. his hero name reveal. his apology, if he chooses to give it now (though I could see him waiting for a more sincere moment, rather than whipping it out now when it could be misconstrued as a manipulation tactic). but perhaps most importantly...

never underestimate the power of an iconic role reversal. because that's what I'm getting at here, if it wasn't clear lol. this probably would have worked better if I had a picture of him actually reaching out to Deku. but I mean, that's kind of the point lol. I don't have one because he hasn't done it yet. BUT CAN YOU IMAGINE. good luck withstanding that, Deku.

so yeah. look at all that. he really is a one-man Deku-saving army. which is not to say that the other kids won't have a part to play as well, or that it's not important for them to be there, because it is. but as far as the lead role goes, it's Kacchan. like that astronaut meme guy says. always has been.

oh and as a bonus he was smart enough to finally leave the mask at home today lol. LET DEKU SEE THE SINCERITY IN YOUR EYES. YESSSSSSS.

[ageofevermore]

Eighteen | T. Holland

Summary → you’re tired of feeling like the world silences you, but after an interview with sebastian and anthony, you start to wonder if maybe it’s your fault.

Warning(s) → mentions of anxiety, mentions of sexual harassment, mentions of inequality in gender roles, use of the word slut, fluff if you squint 

Word Count → 1.9k

Note → this is a heavier topic, one that might be personal to some. if you don’t think you can handle the subject matter, please don’t force yourself to. this is relatively watered down, but it doesn’t take a genius to see what’s not being said. the ending features boyfriend!tom consoling the reader, so it does end on a fluffy note, but don’t hold out for those few ending paragraphs. 

add yourself to my taglist 

It’s getting hotter in the interviews. A thin layer of sweat sparkles on your skin, and even though the air conditioning has been turned down multiple times, there are too many people in the room to feel any drastic differences. It’s unfortunate for you. Hot flashes are a lovely addition to your anxiety disorder, and press always sets your nerves ablaze. It doesn't matter what project you’re promoting, who you're partnered with, or what you're wearing-- you’re always hot. 

Your cheeks are flushed dangerously when the last interview before lunch is called for yourself, Sebastian, and Anthony. This is your first press tour as an adult. You joined the marvel franchise years ago, when being eighteen felt like the equivalent of turning thirty, and you weren’t blind to the changes of tone. People were harsher to you, more forward. If they weren’t shutting you up, they were hinting at something less then appropriate, usually something sexual. 

The next interview started with a short introduction to the media outlet, and your interviewer. He was middle aged, kind smile, salt and pepper hair. He asked for your names, then he told you his, and one by one he shook your hands. His grip on you was criminal, lasting longer than was comfortable. Sebastian and Anthony we’re oblivious to the few extra seconds of contact between you and him, but it made your skin crawl in a familiar discomfort. 

Your fingers curled into fists, heart high in your throat. The questions started out easy. They were mostly directed towards the boys, like always, but this time you couldn’t find yourself to be annoyed. You had dealt with handsy and sexually charged men before, but he set a fire beneath you. It wasn’t behavior you should tolerate, but being a woman in the industry, inappropriate touches and glances we’re easier ignored then dealt with. When you spoke up you caused drama, made headlines, attracted nasty social media comments that called you a whore. It was easier to just internalize. 

“Y/N.” 

You hummed, looking towards the call of your name. He was smiling sweetly at you again, a predatory glint in his eyes that put you on edge. You shifted your weight closer to Anothony unconsciously giving the hungry man your professional attention and a nod. 

He shuffles through his index cards, but his eyes don’t read the scripted questions his employers have supplied him with. It’s not often male interviews do their own research, usually they’re briefed by a colleague and handed a set of questions and topic point by a higher level employee, but this man doesn’t even read the card before he’s staring you down and opening his mouth. 

“You finally got the Stark suit update,” He says, motioning towards the promo poster that shows off your CGI suit in all of its edited glory. Although the actual costume is breathtaking, the computer effects give it an entirely different, more technologically charged, feel. 

“Yeah,” You nod, a forced smile on your lips as you try to ease the uncomfortable tension from your tone. “She’s finally--” 

He cuts you off before you can give him any explanation for the upgrade. He isn’t the first one to address your new wardrobe, but he’s the first one to leave you antsy and uncomfortable. Sebastian frowns when you’re cut off, but he doesn’t think much of it. He lets the man continue, though a professional sharpness pulls his grin into a scowl. 

“Were you able to wear undergarments underneath it? It’s tight, doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Was there ever a moment where you reflected how much your wardrobe has changed through the years?” He asks, a dirty grin on his lips. 

Sebastian and Anthony are shocked at the blunt, inappropriate construction of his question. The public eye knew nothing of your battles with body image, or health concerns that lead to surgery. Your mind was plagued with doubts and self-criticism, and his invasive, pervy question both infuriated you and broke you apart. 

You stutter to find an answer, heat overwhelming you. Your hand grips onto Anthony’s arm, and you can’t decide whether anger is what burns your skin or anxiety. Are you making a big deal of this? You don’t know. You feel like you have every right to feel violated and uncomfortable, but you’re a young woman in the entertainment industry, isn’t this the kind of ignorant commentary you signed up for? You don’t know anymore. You grew up with people always having an opinion on your appearance, sexualizing you as early as twelve. You’ve carried around pepper spray and  self-defense keychains long before you even had an understanding towards predatory men and sexual assault. You’ve been conditioned by the world and the media to carry on with your day, no matter the broken boundaries or disrespect. You’re tired of remaining silent, feeling like your less than your male counterparts. Women and men should hold no differing values in society, and yet you walk to your apartment with keys between your fingers and Tom doesn’t even lock his front door. 

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate question.” You choke out, voice hard and nowhere near the soft and frilly pitch it usually obtains. You’re livid, absolutely pissed to the point of a quivering cupids bow. You’re humiliated, and horrified. Your feelings are everywhere, but you remain as professional as you can. If you yell, try to defend yourself at all, you’ll be painted as a diva in every media outlet for the next week, subliminally inviting backlash and slut-shaming comments into your social media messages. If Sebastian and Anthony come to your defense, they’ll be sung high-praises. 

The double standards men and women are held to, especially in the industry, is infuriating. 

He stumbles out a response, but his time is already up. For the first time today, you’re thankful these interviews are only ten minutes. He leaves the room, shown out by security, and even then he still sends you a wink over his shoulder as if your glimmering eyes meant nothing. 

“Hey,” Sebastian's voice is soft, his hand on the small of your back. You flinch away from his contact, head heavy in memories you’d rather forget. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, voice trembling with tears that you refuse to let fall. You’ve already been humiliated, you don’t need to further paint yourself as some helpless teenage girl. “I’m sorry. I’m going to go find Tom.” 

Anthony and Sebastian nod tightly. They watch as you quiver in your heels, hands clenched into fists at your sides. They’re proud of the way you handled yourself, though still absolutely enraged that any adult would find it appropriate to address you like that, especially in a professional setting. 

You stumble into the dressing rooms, right into your boyfriend's chest. Your mind is racing, but the minute you attach yourself to him, you break down. Shy sobs break Tom’s heart. He holds the back of your head to his chest, other hand on the small of your back and wrapped around your waist as you cry. You’re trying to stay quiet, but the attention is already on you. Chris and Robert are worried, and Zoe’s trying to act like she hasn’t noticed, but they don’t all watch as you try to console yourself with your boyfriend's warmth. 

“What happened?” Tom’s voice is soft, trying to keep this a private moment. He tries to move the both of you back into a corner, but you panic and squeeze around his waist tighter. “Baby,” 

You and Tom have been dating for six months, and although you’ve shared with him stories of your traumatic experiences as a woman living in LA, he’s never seen anything upset you like this. 

“I’m such a slut.” Your words come out so shy and small, you aren’t even sure you can hear yourself. No matter how  many times you tell yourself that your makeup and clothes don’t give men permission to make passes or feel you up, it’s getting harder to believe that your verbal consent is as strong as your clothes. Maybe you are asking for it, and in a wave of nausea, disgusted with yourself, your arms leave Tom’s waist to pull at the bottom of your borrowed dress. 

You’ve been hit on in sweats before. In ball gowns and crop tops. Somebody’s even pushed themselves against you while you wore Tom’s hoodie, but you still convince yourself that it’s your fault. That you we’re asking for it. 

Tom’s jaw sets harshly into place, and he tilts your chin upwards to meet his eye. His brown stare is hard, only adding to your distress. Maybe he agrees. Maybe he’ll blame you for what just happened. He’s probably going to break up with you. Other guys just can’t keep their hands and eyes off of you. He doesn’t want a slut for a girlfriend. 

“What the fuck did you just say, Y/N?” His tone causes you to flinch, words bouncing off of the dressing room walls. Everyone flinches, hearing only his heavy response. You try to divert your attention, but Tom squeezes your jaw, forcing your eyes back on his. “Say it again.” 

“I’m such a slut.” You sniffle, submitting beneath his fiery glare. Tensions are high as you try not to break down again. Apart from Tom, everyone in the room has watched you grow up, never losing that shy and sweet sense of yourself. You’re an exuberant light, a brilliant scene partner, a rising star who has big things in store for the future. You are many things, but a slut, isn’t one of them. 

Tom looks behind you, glaring straight at Anthony and Sebastion who are both stone eyed and still. They’ve not calmed down any since leaving the production room, instead, it seems their anger has only risen. The sight of you so distraught churns their stomachs. 

“Some asshole tried to make a pass.” Sebastion said in short, words angry and delivered as such. 

Tom’s breath hitched, his arms tightening around you and pulling you closer to his chest. His chin digs into your crown, eyes pinches shut as his hot exhale feels heavy. 

“You aren’t a slut, Y/N.” He doesn’t leave any room for argument, but you try anyways. Tom has no patience for it, and so he tilts your head back and plants his lips against yours harshly and eagerly, desperate to show you love and intimacy. “You. Aren’t. A. Slut.”

You nod, ducking your head back down into his chest as you try to believe him-- try to remember that you never asked for hands around your waist, or cupping your boobs. Wolf whistles, or handshakes that turn into forced frontal hugs. You didn’t ask for any of the harassment, no matter the outfits you wore and what they revealed.  

Tom lowers his voice, whispers melting into your hair, “This isn’t your fault, baby. Please believe me. None of this, is your fault. It’s disgusting and inappropriate, and you don’t deserve to deal with any of it.” 

You sniffle. You can’t tell him you believe him, not yet. Not when your heart is so heavy. Maybe one day you’ll believe him, but that’s just not now. 

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[possiblyimbiassed]

The lying liars who lie

Years and years late to the party, I’ve finally gotten my hands on all the DVDs of BBC Sherlock, and I thought it would be fun to watch the extra material carefully, one piece after another, and also listen to at least some of the show makers’ commentary of the episodes. But at this point, after S4 where DVDs seemed to be a constant lying device in general, I tend to look at them with a bit more suspicious eyes...

I still love the show of course, but now that I’ve taken this deep dive into all the special features, I find them a truly hard thing to try to wrap my head around. Even this long after the fact, I’m amazed by the amount of shameless, self-congratulatory BS in the DVDs, where the people involved can’t have enough of complimenting each other and their show, while they skillfully avoid to discuss anything actually meaningful about the plot line. ;) For example, Moffat claims in the S2 DVD that “In fact, you’ll never see a more obsessively authentic version of Sherlock Holmes than this one”. But if we follow their light-hearted commentary, which basically takes the show at face value, I’d call that not just hyperbole, but an outright lie. If you want to see the ‘authentic’ stories from ACD’s work in this show, you’ll definitely need to go much deeper into the subtext and meta levels - neither of which are mentioned on these DVDs of course. Here’s my own (rather subjective) ‘review’ of the whole thing, trying to pinpoint why I view most of the commentary of the show from its own makers as an advanced art of deception. 

(My musings under the cut)

Series 1 - a wealth of extra material

First of all - as many of you probably knew already - the whole of the Unaired Pilot is added to the DVD of S1. In the extra material about the making of the series, they (Sue Vertue, Mofftiss and others) talk about what things they changed between the Pilot and ASiP, claiming that many changes were necessary improvements once they knew that they had a whole series and a lot more time at their disposal. 

Which I can perfectly understand and agree with in general. But I think what’s missing in their discussions is more interesting than what’s actually there (”Mind the gap” ;) ). Things that I would expect from the show makers when they go to the trouble of comparing the pilot version with the aired product. There’s not a word, for example, about the fact that they added both Mycroft and Moriarty to the story in ASiP - two characters who later turn out to play major roles and appear in almost every other episode until the end of TFP. Or about the choice that one of the screenwriters would play Mycroft. 

Neither do they discuss why they chose to relocate the place where Sherlock was challenged by the cabbie from 221B to Roland Kerr’s School of Further Education. Instead they focus on the details, like for example the new design of the interior of 221B.

Not to mention the fact that almost every scene in the Pilot is mirrored in ASiP (as pointed out long ago by @kateis-cakeis X), but at Angelo’s in the Pilot Sherlock follows the events with the cabbie while looking in an actual mirror. I even noticed that in the Pilot the cabbie is offering Sherlock dark-coloured bottles with the pills in them, while in ASiP those bottles are transparent, as if the cabbie is offering Sherlock to play Black or White in the chess game that he is simulating. What’s with all these mirrors, though? Not a word on the DVD... ;)

Now, even though these rather remarkable choices are neglected together with a great bunch of minor ones, I still think that the most interesting fact about all this is that they actually included the whole pilot version within this DVD, which is sold by the franchise. Why even do this, when it raises far more questions than it answers? The only logical reason I can come up with is that they’re laying out a track of little hints that anyone with a deep enough interest in the show to actually buy the DVDs can try to follow. And it seems to me that lying by omission is one of the first steps in the long line of cryptic and misleading author comments on this show. But at the same time, they clearly want the fans to have access to it all, even the abandoned version.

Moving on to Series 2, time for bigger lies 

In the extra material of this DVD Benedict himself describes how his character "faces one of his deadliest enemies in the shape of Love, and it comes in the form of Irene Adler, who is this extraordinary dominatrix [insert here a bunch of superlatives regarding Adler]...”. And then we see how Adler whips Sherlock with a riding crop (without any kind of consent, I have to add) while he’s lying on the floor, and we have Lara Pulver telling us how it was to have a go at Benedict on set. So Holmes whips dead bodies and Adler whips living; seems like a match made in hell! :))

Gatiss claims, grinning with his whole face, that “they’re clearly, absolutely made for each other”. OK, so I think we can see Sherlock being intellectually impressed by Adler, and even trying to protect her from Mycroft, and we can see John acting jealously. We can also see her being dressed and styled as a perfect, female mirror of Sherlock. But I’m still at a loss what all this has to do with love on Sherlock’s part? Especially since he’s not even responding in any fashion to her various attempts at seducing him. 

And there’s more: Paul McGuigan, the director of ASiB, claims that the scene where Sherlock has a conversation with Adler inside his Mind Palace about the crime case with the car that backfires "is a part of a kind of love story, if you like...” No, I don’t. Maybe it’s just me, but if their aim really was to convey to their audience a love story between Sherlock and The Woman, I think they failed miserably. All I see is a guy ’mansplaining’ to a clever woman how to use her brain, while she’s trying to flirt with him by expressing her admiration (to no avail, though) and make deductions at the same time. Nothing new under the sun, really. John did the same thing repeatedly in ASiP (without making own deductions) and got far more attention from Sherlock, but I’ve never heard any of the show makers call that ”a love story”. But by ’lie-splaining’ the scene with Irene to the audience, they try to manipulate us all to see it as such...

In all the direct commentary of this episode, where Steven, Mark, Sue, Benedict and Lara are present, I get the impression that every time they even touch on the relationship between Sherlock and John, they hurry to add the term “friendship” or “man love” or similar words in case they forgot them at first, avoiding even the tiniest possibility that there could be anything more going on between them. They even explain that when Irene calls them “a couple” she does not mean anything romantic. This whole approach feels almost paranoic in the midst of all the laid-back jokes and light-hearted talk about the filming. It’s as if a sort of restrictive, heteronormative filter or blanket is being constantly applied, to teach the audience the ‘no homo’ lesson of it all. And the more I listen to this, the more tiresome it becomes.

In the commentary Moffat does reveal an interesting detail, though: that the ‘Flight of the Dead’ in ASiB was inspired by a cut out scene in the Bond movie On Her Majesty's Secret Service. To me this is just one more reason to question the ‘authentic’ quality of this scene, as opposed to possibly taking place in Sherlock’s Mind Palace. But I digress... 

Listening to the commentary in general, it’s like it’s aimed to distract the attention from what’s going on at the screen rather than highlight it and try to explain their intentions. They do mention that Irene didn’t actually ‘beat’ Sherlock in the end of ASiB, but there’s no explanation of this obvious deviation from canon, where Adler does indeed fool Holmes, taking advantage of his prejudices.

The rest of the extra material of S2 is mostly about technical stuff, special effects and such, and also about filming techniques and Benedict’s delivery of fast deductions. But the part I really do love is the one where Andrew Scott talks about how much he enjoyed playing the scene where Moriarty dances before breaking into the Crown Jewels. That’s one of my favorite scenes of he whole show. :) Also, the takeaway message from this DVD is Moffat’s words at the end: 

“These are still the formative years of Sherlock Holmes, and the most important thing about this series is not that it’s updated; it’s the fact that those two men are still young and they’re still at the beginning of what they don’t yet know is gonna be a lifelong partnership”. 

And then comes Series 3... 

...and its extra material, with the most blatant attempts at deception so far, I believe. At this point Sherlock is called a “psychopath” by both the show’s characters, John’s blog, Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman as if it were true, which is a big deviation from ACD canon. That simply doesn’t happen there; while Holmes is sometimes described as eccentric, no one in the books is ever claiming that Sherlock Holmes has some kind of mental illness leaning towards cruelty and egotism - not even his enemies say this about him. In the show, however, they begin in ASiP with making him torture a dying man for information (something that is not included in the Pilot). And in S3, where they avoid discussing the reason why they turned Mary Morstan into a ruthless assassin, this major shift is glossed over by the fact that in the same episode (HLV) they also turn Sherlock into a murderer, who cold-bloodedly blows the brains out of a blackmailer for threatening to make said assassin’s crimes public. 

But without ever getting into the “why” of it all, the cast and crew seem overly happy and smiling describing these rather morbid choices as something positive; “fantastic”, "fresh and new” and "amazing” are their choice of words. Benedict claims that Mary, who has literally shot and almost killed Sherlock in HLV, is now "a new best friend of Sherlock’s”. Amanda claims that Mary “is protecting John” when she shoots Sherlock in the chest. Now they’re both psychopaths, and poor little John is forced to stomach them both because he’s addicted to danger. In Amanda’s words, Mary also “kind of gets in between the two of them, but she wants them to be together as well”.  Which is a load of BS considering that Mary tries to kill the protagonist of the story.

Lars Mikkelsen thinks it’s “such a good script” because “you’re mislead as an audience”. But he never gets the chance to expand on what the misleading actually contains, because then Mofftiss cut in to express how much they love playing with “what ifs”. As if this whole mega-budget project of a show were just a big experimental playground without any actual story to tell. 

Benedict repeats his line from HLV that Magnussen “preys on people who are different” and Moffat also says he “exploits people who are different”. Which is really confusing, considering what we can see Magnussen actually do in the show. Lady Smallwood and John Garvie are two well-established, powerful governmental politicians whom Magnussen blackmails by finding their respective pressure points. In Garvie’s case his pressure point seems to be alcohol problems in his past, but according to media he’s later arrested on charges of corruption. Lady Smallwood is blackmailed on the basis of her husband having sent compromising letters to a minor many years ago, in spite of later claiming that he thought she was older and stopped when he found out the truth. And then Magnussen is blackmailing an assassin who recently threatened to execute him but shot Sherlock Holmes instead, in order to try to get at Sherlock’s brother Mycroft, another powerful governmental figure. 

But what does media seeking out dirt on certain people in power and their families have to do with “people who are different”? Despicable as the method may be, isn’t this unfortunately how political power play usually works in our society? Or are TPTB somehow a repressed minority group now? Unless this whole “people who are different” accusation is actually about something entirely different, something that none of the show makers even cares to mention... ;)

In these DVDs, none of the involved persons is ever discussing the change of roles with regards to canon, though, or the (lack of) logics in this turn of events, or even a hint about the narrative motivation behind them. It’s all about the great Drama, the extraordinary visual effects and the aim to endlessly “surprise the audience”. Which is fine by me to a certain extent, but when this is all that’s being said, it feels extremely superficial, as if the audience is merely seen as a bunch of consumers that have to be triggered more and more by horror, special effects and cliff hangers to be able to appreciate the show. (“Warm paste” indeed, like Gatiss has later criticized some viewers of wanting...) While the "why”; the idea behind this surrealistic adaptation, made by self-proclaimed fanboys of ACD, is not even touched upon. Around this, the silence is total and therefore totally confusing.

Maybe I shouldn’t even go into Series 4...

...but why not, since I’ve already started? :) 

First of all, there’s a lot of extra material on this DVD and I particularly love the parts about the music and composing and Arwel Wyn Jones’ work with the design and build-up of John’s and Mary’s flat and the interior of 221B. Those bits are truly enjoyable. What I could live without, though, is the leading commentary that kind of instructs us, the audience, how we should interpret the show. 

Benedict is on it again on this DVD, telling us that in TST they picked up where they left off in S3 and “It’s a very happy unit of three people that then become four.” Why does he feel the need to make this statement, considering how S3 ended? Actually, if there’s anything I totally fail to see in S4, it’s happiness. The banter between the three  of them may seem entertaining for a while, but who could have a relaxed, warm relationship with someone who tried and almost succeeded to kill you less than a year ago? Without any sign of remorse? Now there’s a dark tone of discomfort and mean jokes that feels forced and not even a bit happy to me. 

But Martin tells us how excited John and Mary are about starting a family and Amanda mentions how much they’re looking forward to the baby. Again and again it’s repeated, as though trying to rub it in: “they’re in a good place, they’re a loving, married couple”. Yeah, right - a child that (judging by TSoT) wasn’t at all planned and now with an assassin for a mother... Twice we see the new parents complain that their daughter has the mark of Satan on her forehead and debate which horror movie she’s from. The clichéd hypocrisy of it all is sickening, and I’m willing to bet that it’s really meant to be. ;) 

But Gatiss chimes in, deciding for us all that the christening of Rosie is “a funny scene” and “they’re enjoying each other, enjoying being on adventures as a three”.

An interesting detail is that Gatiss also tells us that the working name of this episode was “The Adventure of the Melting power Ranger”. So this little blue guy was that important? :) And - even more interesting - is when he says: “Cake is now the code for violent death”. So how should we interpret Sherlock, John and Molly going out to have cake in TLD then, on Sherlock’s (supposed) birthday? 

These might be jokes, though, but when they tell us that Sue cries every time she sees Mary’s death I strongly believe they must be joking. How could anyone feel truly moved by this overly sentimental long monologue where far more efforts are put into reacting to Mary’s speech than saving her life? And John’s mooing like a cow, is that also moving? :)

One thing Martin says about TLD that actually disgusts me is regarding the morgue scene where John assaults Sherlock and Sherlock lets it happen: “From there, really, their relationship can only sort of rebuild, that’s the absolute worst it can get”. As if outright physical abuse would be something that makes you want to rebuild a relationship? Wow - just wow... How far can they go with this crap?

Anyway, when we finally arrive at the absurdity of TFP and Sherlock’s ‘secret sister’, everything is of course discussed as if she actually does exist on the given premises, and everything she does is ‘real’, no matter how impossible it would be in real life. The abandonment of any attempt to have the story line make logical sense is skillfully covered up by more distraction with fascinating technicalities of the film making process. This is where Gatiss makes his now almost classic statement that after Sherlock and John jump out of the window at 221B when a grenade explodes there, it’s just “Boop! And they’re fine.” 

Of course there’s no serious attempt at explaining this logically. Except perhaps Gatiss claiming that they both landed on Speedy’s awning - whatever good that would do to them, since the awning is leaning downwards, but never mind... But we never even saw that happen, did we? A great deal of time is then dedicated to show all the precautions to have Martin and Ben jumping safely at low level onto a madras supported by empty cardboard boxes.

Sian Brooke did say something interesting about Sherrinford, however, that got me thinking. She said that Eurus “wants revenge for the years and years that she has been held captive” there, isolated, and that in TFP the Holmes children are now “lab rats” and “it’s an experiment”. On a meta level, I think we can indeed see this episode - and maybe the whole show - as a kind of experiment, but maybe we, the audience, are also lab rats? Since Sherrinford is slightly shaped like a film camera (not commented in the extra material, of course), it leads my thought to all the adaptations through the years and years where Holmes and Watson have not been allowed to be together. A whole century when Sherlock Holmes has been held captive, restricted by the very same sort of heteronormative filter that all this extra material imposes; it’s like Sherrinford, isn’t it? Which gives all the more meaning to Moriarty’s arrival to the island, accompanied by Freddy Mercury’s “I want to break free”...

I think I’ll let the final words in this little exposé come from Mark Gatiss in The Writers’ Chat (my bolding):

“Moriarty is a fascinating thing in that in our sea of ongoing lies, one thing we’ve genuinely been completely consistent about is telling people he’s dead. But no-one believes it! And it’s a rather brilliant thing.”  Again - self-congratulatory statements. But instead of providing some actual evidence of the death of this character, who has kept popping up in almost every episode since his supposed demise, they think that the more a confirmed liar repeats something, the truer it gets? And the more we’re supposed to believe them? Well, all we can do is wait and see. :)

Tagging some people who might be interested: 

@raggedyblue​ @ebaeschnbliah​ @sarahthecoat​ @gosherlocked​ @lukessense​ @sagestreet​ @thepersianslipper​

My earlier meta on a similar topic (X)

[sashi-ya]

{+18} - Law x Fem Best Friend ♥ CH. 5 – FINAL PART

♥ Daily living with the Heart pirates crew AU. ♥ Spoilers after Dressrosa Arc. Law´s backstory. Wano kuni arc.  ♥ Female reader. Little physical description. Everybody is 18+, canon ages.  ♥ TW: NSFW, violence. Drama (a lot of it), some broken bones. And fluff, a lot of it. No further warnings. If you think I should include some feel free to tell me ♥A/N: thank you so so much for reading until the end of this story. I enjoyed writing these chapters so much! I hope you enjoyed it as much as me. I’ll be pleased to accept any request or commentaries on this or other fics.

Word count: 5.0K

» List of parts: {CH1}  {CH2}  {CH3} {CH4}«

 Chapter 5

Next thing I remember was opening my eyes and seeing Law’s face. He was carrying me in his arms, my hearing went from a loud buzzing to his voice. “Y/n-ya, answer me, come back, are you with me??”, my best friend kept asking me while running. I gave him a smile, and the only thing I could say to him was, “I’m sorry”, until I passed out again. 

The night sky was deep blue, full of stars and a big moon that enlightened the whole room. I recovered my senses a few hours after, since Law has saved my life, once again. He was next to me, brushing his hand over my forehead, looking straight at the door with his katana on the other hand. I was lying on my bed. Around me, a whole disaster, everything I owned was scattered over the floor. 

Once again, the first words that came out from my mouth were “I’m sorry”. I have put my whole crew, Law, and even my life in danger just because of my stupid pride… My personal doctor smiled at me and told me to shut up. He began to cry, openly, looking directly to my face. He was not hiding under his hat, not even over my chest. He was showing me how hurt he was, and this was for sure the very first time I’ve seen him cry like this. “I am the one who should be sorry. I left you alone, I abandoned you. Everything because I was scared, because I didn't want to accept how much I love you, I was afraid of changing, of putting you in danger. Look how you’ve ended because of me, they were searching for me…” he said, hitting his chest with his hand in a fist. He continued, “That’s the reason I wouldn’t really admit that the love I felt was more than just caring for a friend… I’m sorry Y/n-ya. I’m sorry… everything I said, it was a lie… I’ve loved you since...forever. You were always my star, the only person I could look at, when I was in the dark, you shine so bright, you light up my soul…”. I tried to get up from bed, but a throbbing pain on my ribs stopped me from it. “ugh… Law…”, he told me to remain still on bed, and informed me that 5 of my left ribs were broken. I wanted to say so many things, to tell him it was alright, that I wanted to go back to the polar and resume our journey as if nothing happened, but… it wasn’t that easy, I was hurt too. I remained silent, looking through the window, searching for the best words to say, to express everything I had inside my chest. 

I finally decided to speak. Law was still crying, but he wouldn’t guard down, he was protecting me. I said, “Oi, dumbass… how did you find me?”, “I followed your vivre card, of course” he answered sobbing. “Yeah, but… how did you get here so fast? where were you?”, I asked. I guess his cheeks turned to red, he seemed as if he was blushing, and after stuttering a little, he confessed, “I.. we.. I stayed in the submarine on the other side of the island, I was scared. Everybody agreed on waiting for you…”. 

He was always here?... of course, he was, his vivre card would always point to the same place. And... that time I went exploring the whole island, I thought I saw the guys in the distance, on the shore… I... thought it was just my imagination… I began to cry and laugh at the same time, covering my eyes with my hands. “I love you, dumbass. I love you more than anything, you were always here, you didn’t abandon me”. Suddenly I was so happy, I knew he wouldn’t leave me, I knew he would always protect me... I knew it. I was full of joy...  

Law laid next to me in bed, softly because he knew how hurt I was, hugged me and kissed my forehead. He had the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. He looked so relieved. The warmth I felt on my chest when I had his vivre card over, I was now feeling it all over my body. 

We stayed like this for a few minutes until Law said, “You need to rest, and I need to be alert in case some more bastards come”. I calmed him, “they won’t come here, they think we are on the submarine, leaving this city… Do you remember your vivre card?”. He looked at me, worried. I continued, “I’m sure you think that yonkou’s subordinates have found and stolen your vivre card from here, right?”. He nodded and said, impatient, "yes, when I was beating the shit out of them, I heard that they have finally found it, how come they don't have it?". “If I have learned something from you throughout all of this years is to plan things out… Yesterday morning, before leaving home I got the feeling that I should carry your vivre card with me…” I slowly pulled the little paper from my bra and showed it to him. He widened his eyes and was about to say something, but I resumed speaking like a smart detective, “Yet, a few days ago I thought of how dangerous it was that someone could find your vivre card, my dear ex Shichibukai…so, I made a fake one, I used some fish scales that I took from a fish of the river to make it, write your name on it, and leave it on that little box you now see empty over the dresser. So, I think they might be following that fish...”. Law’s face was priceless, at first, he was dumbfounded, but a few seconds later we both burst into laughing. 

Despite how painful it was to laugh with a few broken ribs I couldn’t help it. It was too funny, and it was the first time I laughed since a long long time. I missed those days when we were younger, had no place to stay and even if the cold was getting into the bones, a few stupid phrases of Bepo or Penguin made us laugh uncontrollably. It was, after all, our "Laugh Tale".

“Oi, you should eat something, are you hungry?”, asked my doctor, to which I replied with a sexy smile “I am hungry for you, doc”. “I’d love to fuck you right here, right now, as hard as I want, but It wouldn’t be ethic, you’ll be in pain…” he said straightforwardly to my face. I gasped; I love how Law gets when he is horny… “Now, tell me where the food is, I’m going to cook something”, he said and I pointed to a few groceries that were still on the counter. 

Law gathered a few of the things that were scattered all over the floor and promised me to clean everything up tomorrow. He was acting like a husband, how cute.

I contemplated how he focused on cooking frowning. The last time I saw him cooking was when we were little, sometimes he woke me up with breakfast, sometimes he would broil some potatoes, but somehow every time he did, his eyes got sad. So, before Penguin, Shachi and Bepo arrived I normally cooked for him.  

“Here, let me help you sit on the bed”, he said, bringing two plates of some risotto he made for us. He left the plates over the floor, hugged me, put a pillow behind my back and sat me on the bed. 

“Mmmh, where did you learn to cook risotto, Law? This meal is delicious!”, I said, delighted with the taste of the food. He looked at me with one of his cheeks poofed with food and smiled with his eyes. My heart skipped a beat when I saw that smile, I’m so in love with him, damn it…

The foliage of the trees that surrounded my little room began to move every time the autumn breeze blew through them. Everything was so calm. I felt as if no more danger was around me, as if nothing that could happen from now on, could be worse than being apart from Law. 

We chatted for a little bit while eating, we were happy, no worries, Law never stopped smiling and neither did I. He helped me to lay down on bed again, and he did the same next to me. “I love you”, Law whispered to me while grabbing my face with his hands, softly caressing my cheeks with his thumbs. Our noses touching, both smiling. “I love you too…”.

Morning came and a sweet smell of honey woke me up. Law was softly kissing my forehead with a cup of tea on his hands. “Good morning darling, I made you a green tea with honey”. I covered my mouth trying not to laugh, but it was impossible. I broke out laughing. Don’t get me wrong, I thought that what he did was the most cute thing ever… but… can you imagine Trafalgar D. Water Law being all cute and romantic? “This is the first time you call me “darling”, I’m sorry”, I said and kept giggling. His face changed to a poutier one so I stopped laughing, “I’m sorry Law… I mean… babe?.” I said and took a sip of the tea. 

He gave me a little smirk, and directed his sight to the floor while saying, “I’m ok with any name you call me, I like “babe”, It makes me happy”. This was the first time I saw him in love, and it was… with me. 

After breakfast, he washed the dishes and called Bepo. “Aya aya, Captain!! how are you? is Y/n with you? is she ok?!”, screamed the polar bear on the other side of the line. “Oi Bepo, yes, she is with me, she is ok. Are you ok? did you notice something suspicious or any movements last night?”. Ah… Law, always talking like he is some sort of a secret agent of the marines…. “Captain, Penguin speaking. We saw two ships leave the coast at night, they got the Beast pirates flag. They didn’t see us; we were hiding as you told”. “Perfect, Y/n-ya has five broken ribs, I put them in place, but she will have to rest on the mainland for a few days, the pressure of the submarine could make the pain worse if she goes immediately underwater. Please, keep informing me at any suspicious movement. And don’t worry, they aren’t following my vivre card”, Law informed my nakamas and hung up the den den mushi. 

“Y/n-ya... darling… I should change your bandages and treat your wounds, are you up for it?”, he asked like the good doctor he is. “Yes, honey, let’s do it. I’m sure you already know, but there are some supplies in the bathroom, but If they aren’t enough, you could go and ask Dr. Saturn, I’ve been working with him as his medical assistant”, I told him. He looked at me, and suddenly his eyes turned to fire. Law rarely loses his taciturn countenance, but that time his face transformed into pure hate. “What is it?”, I asked him without any clue of what was happening. “That bastard, that “doctor”, he sold you to the pirates”, he almost shouted. Profoundly shocked, I mumbled “What? how… how did you know?”. “I investigated while we were apart, I didn’t mean to follow you or else, but… I was worried, I wanted to protect you… even though I let these things happen to you”, he said now with a guilty tone, while unfolding the bandages. “It’s ok, it’s now over, from now on we will be together to protect us” ... I told him with a side smile that soon turned into a little wince. 

Soon I was left with no bandages on my body, my torso naked, covered in bruises and scuffs. Law softly brushed some cotton embedded on alcohol over the scuffs, he was so delicate that It felt almost as a tickle sensation. His hands always worked as stethoscopes because of the Ope Ope no mi, so he then placed a hand over my heart and checked my heartbeat. The cold breeze and the soft touch of his hands over my nipples made them turn hard, and a little gasp slipped out of my mouth. The touch of skin over mine lit a fire inside of me.

Law looked at me top to bottom, finally worshipping with his intense grey eyes, my boobs. Licking his upper lip, he slowly approached his mouth over one of my erect nipples. He licked it from bottom up, fixing his eyes on mine, smirking sexy. My body squirmed as the sensation of his wet tongue struck me with a wave of pleasure. Even if It hurt, even if I had a few broken ribs, that little action made me wish he fucked me hard, I needed to, I had a real lust for him. 

He kept on using his mouth, he would lick, softly bite, suck both of my tits, gently enough to avoid my ribs hurt. 

“Oi, let me put you some bandages, if not… we can’t continue…”, he said. And I, that I was lost in the arousal that Law was producing on me, agreed. He started folding my torso with the elastic bandages, the pressure over my skin that sometimes hurt, also contributed to the heat of the moment. “Imagine if instead of bandages, I used some ropes…” he softly whispers next to my ear from behind. 

I turned my face to the side and reached for his mouth. We kissed passionately, lustfully, erotically. 

The bandages were so tightly snuggled that I couldn’t feel any pain. Law managed to tight them perfectly so they could be holding my ribs but letting my breasts free of them. 

My lover delicately laid me down on the bed, took off his shirt and settled over me. Law ran his hand over my face, caressing my skin, while maintaining his weight with the other arm at the side of my head. I kissed his palm with the side of my mouth. This moment felt magical for us, our eyes interlocked with pure love for each other, it was more than just pleasure. He was making love to me, and I did too. 

His fingers travelled from my face to my sex, getting moistened with how wet I was. His tattooed index finger lingered over my clit tracing circles around and over it. A few moments later he put the finger on my mouth requesting me with a “taste your flavour” to lick his finger. I sucked it so lewdly, that made him groan loudly. 

He knelt in front of me and used his middle and ring finger with a “come hither” motion inside of me, spotting the G point, making me arch my back and moan loudly. And as if that pleasure wasn’t enough, he also used his tongue over my pleasure button. I cummed so hard, squirting his whole hand. 

Far from being exhausted I invited Law to release the bulge trapped into his trousers and to come near my mouth. “I want you to jack off and fuck my mouth, babe” I asked him with an inviting obscene tone. The surgeon gasped and as fast as he could took his pants off. I opened my mouth with my head over the pillow sticking my tongue out, awaiting to taste his sweet member. 

First, I licked it, then I grabbed it with my hands and placed it inside of my mouth. Law was so heated that couldn’t resist himself and hold my jaw in order to fuck my mouth, first cautiously, but then violently as he left himself go with the desire and the pleasure he was experiencing. I fixed my teary eyes on his, choking with the length and width of his hard rock pennis. He didn’t finish, but instead, went straight to fuck me. 

Again, he was settled over me, delicately penetrating me, with soft thrusts at first but increasing the pace with every pounding. He strongly held my wrists over my head while fucking me. 

Letting me go he approached his body to mine, letting the side of his abs slightly rest over my stomach in order not to put so much pressure over my ribs. He charged all of his weight over the right side of his body and his elbow on the bed and kept on fucking me. The penetration was slowly just for the both of us to feel every movement in detail. Law stroked my hair as I whined more and more with pleasure. We both came almost together, with our mouths pressed moaning “I love you”. 

Three days after, I felt better enough to take a walk, so after the guys confirmed that the city was free of dangerous enemies, we left the house for the first time. The fall had fully arrived at the island, warmth colours, chilly breeze that softly made some far away sunflower fields dance, the floor covered in dry red and brown tinted leaves, a few pumpkins that the citizen had on their porches, some shop owners already putting up Halloween decorations and a few kids playing on the street were part of the scenery of our walk. Law didn’t speak much as always, and I was enjoying how his tanned skin got bathed by the orangey tones of the afternoon sun. 

Eventually, we arrived at the city centre, where the local producers market was taking place. I told Law that I wanted to buy some flowers from Mrs. Ann stand at the fair as I always did. He smiled at me, showing he agreed, and I started almost running. I recognized that I could be a little childish and impulsive sometimes, especially for someone like Law. “Oi! don’t run babe!!” he warned me and grabbed my hand in order to stop me. I looked back at him; my hair got blown by the wind as well as my skirt. I gave him a wide grin, slid my arm so that he could now hold my hand and pulled him towards me. The very first seconds he looked so mad at me, but then he let himself go and followed my pace with a big smile. We were almost running, holding hands, making the crows and larks fly off the streets scared of us. 

“Hello Mrs. Ann, I’m here to buy you some pretty flowers, what bouquets do you suggest?” I asked the florist. “Hello, my dear! you seemed so happy today! who is this handsome young man that joins you today?!”, she said curious. My smile quickly faded, and I realized that we still haven’t talked about what we actually are, so, “Uhm… he is…”, “His boyfriend, I’m his boyfriend”, Law ended my sentence with a straight face. I blushed and giggled, I felt as if a hundred butterflies were flying inside of my stomach. Mrs Ann smiled at us, with genuine happiness, and said “So, this time we should let him pick the flowers for you, right young man?”. Law pointed to the sunflower’s bouquet and timidly said “Those, her favourite flowers are sunflowers, so I guess I’ll take those”. “Good choice boy, you know why sunflowers are so special? They usually face the sun, but whenever it is cloudy, they face each other so they get enough energy… Same goes with couples, whenever there are clouds in the sky, they should count on each other, until the sun comes back again, and both can enjoy it together”. Law smiled at her and then at me, I know for sure that we both count with each other, I know we do.  We bought some more groceries and ended up having a picnic on the fields. This life was somehow better than I thought, but soon our couple time should be over. Our journey must continue, our missions should be complete, and we were young, we would have plenty of time once we achieve our goals to grow old together. 

Two days after we returned to the submarine, and despite spending the last two days thinking of a better way to communicate with our crew that we… were dating, we couldn’t find the perfect way. Law was mortified, he hates to show emotions, and whenever our crew knows the big news, the amount of energy it's going to be too much to handle. 

We could sight the Polar Tang that was moored on the coast, everybody was on the deck waving at us, shouting our names. Law was slowly hiding under the coat collar with every scream, and I was waving at them. I have missed them so much. “Guuuuuys!! guuuuuys!!! oii!!” I screamed, Law grabbed my hand and said, “be careful, you are not fully recovered yet”. “I’m sorry doc, I’ll behave… I promise. That means also no more sex until I get fully healthy, right?” He looked at me with a “how dare you?” expression but I kept talking, “fufufu… don’t worry I was joking, I couldn’t say no to getting railed by you, babe…”. I winked at him and he smirked saying “You are a lost cause…”. 

The whole crew hugged me, expressing to me how much they have missed me, that I shouldn’t ever leave again and asked me why the hell I had left the submarine in the first place. I told them that tonight we should have a party and that Law, and I would explain everything in detail. My nakamas agreed on such a good plan and began to prepare everything to set sail. 

I saw Law carrying my stuff inside, so I followed him. He entered his room with my baggage, and I stopped at the door… “Law, why are you putting my stuff in your room?” I asked, a little confused. “We are going to sleep together from now on, this should be your room too, right?” I widened my eyes, what have I done to the cold emo boy I once knew? I was pleased but surprised for sure. “Well, I’m fluttered, are you willing to hear me snore every night from now on?”, I asked, mocking him. “I’m ok with hearing you snore, if that is the price I have to pay for fucking you every night and cuddling with you”, he said, with a calm attitude. We both laughed and he helped me to unpack everything. While putting everything in place I saw an old polaroid we took back at Dressrosa after the big fight over his nightstand, and over it there was the necklace I had returned to him last time I was in the submarine. “Oi, babe, can you put me the necklace back, please” I said, holding it in my hands and showing it to him. Law smiled, approached me, and while he passed the chain on my neck, he said “Next jewel I’d like to put on you will be a ring…”. I giggled a little and kissed his cheek. 

The night came and we were already in the middle of the sea, the sky was garnished with little stars that lit up our party, and the guys were drinking, dancing, and shouting.  I decided that I’ll never leave them again, whatever comes to us, whatever happens between Law and I, this was my family, and I would be always with them no matter what. 

I went inside looking for a blanket because the night breeze at the open sea could be quite cold. We usually keep some blankets in a little room next to the kitchen for easy access in case we emerge, and someone has to guard on the outside. Suddenly someone hugged me from behind. I instantly recognized my beloved sweet scent. He placed his chin over my shoulders, and his hands wrapped around my low stomach. We remained like this for a few moments, enjoying our company, dancing to the music that came from outside. We began to kiss gently, and Law closed the little door. We laughed while our lips were still pressed and then with our foreheads also. The joy and intimacy I experienced was so cute, as if we were just married… "stop, let me help us with something, SILENTO" I said, and snapped my fingers, creating a safe space where nobody in the submarine could listen to us with the power of my Nagi Nagi no mi. "Nobody can hear us now, we can be as naughty as we want'' I told him with a lascivious expression while grabbing him by his chin. That probably fanned the flames even more, so he pushed me against the wall and while kissing me, he started unbuttoning my trousers, and then almost ripping my panties off too. He put 2 fingers on my mouth for me to suck on them just to made them wet with my saliva. He shoved them into my pussy and moved them as he only knew how to. While he was fingering me, with the hand that until then was on my breast, he took off his pants revealing a huge erection that was about to be inside of me. 

He grabbed one of my thighs, holding it up, just to spread my legs even more so he could fuck me even deeper, right there, standing, with my back pressed against some sort of metallic wall. I wasn't able to think anything besides how I wanted him to fulfill me with his hard cock. He fucked me so hard, I almost lost full control of my limbs, thank God he was holding me as If I weighed anything less than a feather. Damn, how strong he is. We let ourselves go, and after lustfully enjoying our fleshly lusts, we decided it was time to come back to the party. We were unaware that we climbed the leather to the deck holding hands and smiling at each other, so all of a sudden, the music stopped, as well as the murmur of the crew. Shachi shouted, “I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! of course everything that happened was because of this!” I closed my eyes, waiting for Law to shout and order them to shut the fuck up, but instead he said, “Of course it was because of this, it doesn’t take too much to come up to the conclusion… you idiot”. I started laughing, followed by my nakamas. The whole night came by with us celebrating my return to the submarine and the new couple...

 A few adventures and two years after. End of the Grand Line, Laugh Tale Island…

I could still hear Mugiwara and Law laughing, we have achieved the last island, and you won't believe what the “One Piece” was, but that is  just a whole different story that maybe I’ll tell you about it other time. 

I was over the deck of the Polar Tang, admiring the beauty of the island that left the horizon back at us… I was thinking how many things we have been through to finally get here. Life hasn’t been easy to none of us, but surely, we made it happier, together. I wonder what our future has prepared us from now on. 

A strong wind blew my hair, and I could sense as if someone was behind me. I thought it was Law, but when I turned around, I saw a blond man, wearing a blue feather coat, a heart patterned shirt and a hat that I could recognize real fast. His image wasn’t clear, but I could see him though. “Hello, Mrs. Trafalgar, please don’t freak out. I’m sure you know who I am… I came here to thank you. Thank you for taking care of my little boy, how big he got…”. I knew he was “Cora-san”, I wasn’t scared, I knew he was the kindest person in the world. “Thank you, Mr. Rosinante, you saved Law’s life, I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done for him. He is who he is for you”. The guy with a blue mark under his right eye, and some lipstick that made his smile even bigger, nodded and said, “by the way, congrats, Rosinante could be a great name, plus it goes well with the D…”. Next, I heard Law calling me “Y/N-ya, what are you doing here all by yourself?”, I turned around and he was coming my way, with a confused expression. I looked back at where Rosinante was, but he had already disappeared. 

 Law hugged me, he was happy and placed his head on my chest. “Did I tell you how much I love to hear your heart beating?”, he asked me still with his head over my chest. “You did, darling, it won’t ever stop beating for you”. Law smiled but suddenly his face turned to a more serious one. He stopped hugging me, and asked with a worried face, “Babe, how many hearts do you have?”, “You are a cardiac surgeon, I’m sure you know how many hearts I have, Law”, I said laughing. “Yeah, because I know that people normally have one, it’s not normal that I hear two hearts beating inside of… wait…” He stopped talking, looked at me and concluded everything in no time. “Babe… are you?... Am I going to be... a father?”, he said with tears on his eyes. “Congratulations, daddy”, I said, and Law hugged me so tight, holding me up in the air crying with pure joy in his heart. We remained hugged until a little bird flew past over us and a blue feather felt over us… 

The End ♥

Thanks for reading! I’m open for requests, so if want me to, just ask ♥ 

[cellydawn]

sans IS gaster (OR the sans theory masterpost pt. 2)

Part 1 || ❤️ || Part 3

(drawn by me, color by @magenteel​)

Previously, we discussed: Sans and his hand in the destruction of a world, his connection to Ice-E and Deltarune, and how he relates to Gaster. We’re going to continue the thread we left off on.

Section III - Gaster (Cont.)

Snails are mentioned too many times throughout Undertale for them to not be of any significance. As it turns out, they are pretty important in unraveling the mystery behind Gaster and Sans.

When you enter the area with Napstablook’s snail farm, you’ll notice that Sans’s theme is playing despite him not making an appearance. 

In one of Papyrus’s phone calls, he mentions that Sans recently bought snail-shaped pasta and says “He’ll probably fill them with hotdogs and slime.” Toriel also owns a book called “72 User for Snails”. Track 72 in the Undertale OST is “Song That Might Play When You Fight Sans”. That’s multiple times that Sans is likened to snails. 

Snails belong under the taxonomic class Gastropoda. Gasterpods.

These long pauses between words and phrases are not unlike how Gaster speaks.

Here is Gaster speaking with us in the opening sequence of Deltarune. And...

Now. Let’s move on.

(More under the cut.)

Mus_smile is the track that plays in room_gaster. This is my personal opinion, but the character that is the most strongly associated with smiles is Sans.

And Sans is certainly intelligent enough to be the prime suspect for being Gaster. The proper name for his namesake is Comic Sans Microsoft, or Comic Sans MS. MS can also be used as a suffix for the name of a person who has a degree in a Master of Science.

Sans also owns quantum physics books. The subject of Gaster’s scientific research is revealed in Entry #17: “photon readings negative”. Photons are described as a "quantum" of electromagnetic energy, and are of course within the realm of study under quantum physics.

Gaster, like Sans, is brilliant yet slow-working. Slower than Alphys, who is repeatedly noted to have nothing to show yet as the royal scientist in the eyes of the people and is shown to slack off constantly.

Gaster is implied to have perished, and I suppose he did, in a way, if these speculations do end up being correct. However, there’s something more to this statement. Ghosts are sort of in the realm of being not-alive, and Sans and Napstablook have a surprising level of comparability.

They both:

Get likened to “garbage”

Have connections to snails (Napstablook runs the snail farm)

Speak completely in lower case

Pretend to sleep and say “Z’s” out loud

Have black “sclera”

And the black sclera is also a topic of its own; it’s equated with the status of being brought back to life. Being “determined”. (See: Asriel and Undyne)

Undyne is especially suspect due to the strange right-eye-phenomenon she has in common with Sans, with spears shooting out of hers. Spears that are actually colored light blue, not unlike Sans’s eye. 

To recap: 

Sans and Gaster are heavily involved in Deltarune

They have been displaced from time and space

They have connections to snails

They are both doctors with knowledge in quantum physics

They both “fell” into the abyss

They both talk similarly

They are both slow

They are both characterized by their smile

They are both some degree of dead

Sans is Gaster or a significant piece of him. Sans has Gaster Blasters because they belong to him. If all prior conjecture proves true, he is and will be responsible for the destruction of a world or THE world within Deltarune. After all, the Latin definitions of “gaster” and “sans” are to destroy and to be without, respectively. 

That brings us to the next subject: why is Sans Sans? More specifically, why is that his name? Why even change his name?

Below is the Japanese version of the fun event with Sans’s phone call. It features completely different dialogue from its English counterpart. 

Am I Licca-chan? (Select No) Then from now on call me Sans. I need to check every once in a while. I won’t know when my name has changed. 

“Licca-chan” is a well-known Barbie-esque dress-up doll in Japan, so popular to the point where it is even used as a synonym for other dolls from different companies. Perhaps it implies that Sans is adaptable due to Licca-chan’s nature as a doll and how she is in a constant state of change to reflect the times. It also seems to be a pun on “liquor” because Sans was talking about beer in the English version. I tried to scour the Japanese fandom for clues, but they also seemed stumped. If anyone has any ideas on what this could mean, please let me know!

Regardless, “Sans” doesn’t seem to be his actual name. Perhaps his true name was Gaster...?

Additionally, If the player changes the name of the fallen child via going into the code, this message appears in the stats menu. The vernacular is very Sans-like, with his frequent use of question tags at the end of his sentences (I counted 14 huh’s from Sans).

Finally, let’s talk about the number six. We know that it’s Gaster’s number--All of the explicitly Gaster-related fun events trigger for fun values in the sixties, Gaster’s stats are all comprised of 6′s, Gaster’s “typer-value” is 666--you get the idea.

The concept art Toby drew for the Alarm Clock’s character screen features what is presumably Sans and the number six.

“The Choice”--the track that plays during Sans’s judgements--is “Undertale” slowed down by 666%.

Section IV - Angels and Demons (The “Why”)

In modern day culture, 666 is closely associated with the devil. The Book of Revelation (13:17-18) asserts that 666 is “the number of a man” (this is important, and we’ll come back to it later) and is “the number of the Beast”. The Beast is mentioned as “coming out of the abyss”. 

Sounds a lot like someone else we know, doesn’t it? And how fitting for Sans, the one who judges our sins and demands us “to burn in hell”.

But if we go further, the Beast of Revelation is described to have seven heads representing seven kings. The beast itself is an eighth king who is of the seven and "was and is not and shall ascend out of the bottomless pit, and go into perdition." 

Chara is an eighth of the seven fallen children. 

There’s something Chara, Sans, and Gaster all share, and it’s their association with demons.

Here is an excerpt from the Cutting Room Floor:

Among the four strings in version 1.0, the last one, designated by variable “demond”, stands out for two reasons. 

 The letter “d” is separate from the other letters denoting the demon variables--the rest, “x”, “y”, and “z” are in sequential alphabet order.

The speech pattern of the last string is different from the others. It has that signature question tag at the end of the sentence that a certain character is known for.

In version 1.001, the strings clearly reflect Chara’s speech pattern. This time, all the variables are in sequential order from “a” to “d”. 

Pieces of dialogue at the near-end of a genocide route from Chara and Sans. Recall that Chara is using the same “Now” from earlier with Gaster and Sans.

Chara makes a reference to Banana Yoshimoto's book “Kitchen”. Take note of the page number.

Chara is also linked to the number nine. It’s the highest achievable stat in-game. It’s the stat of the locket and real knife. It’s how much damage Chara deals. It’s also the number six flipped upside down. 

The connections are undeniable. 

And yet, it goes further. Let’s take a look at how Christmas comes in to play.

In Deltarune, there are a few references to it, the most foremost probably being the importance of Noelle Holiday as a character. We also get Lancer’s laugh and the joke with “Krismas”.

Back to Undertale, there is significant Christmas iconography represented by “Gyfmas” and Gyftrot (bearing a strong resemblance to Photoshop Flowey, the DT Extractor, and Gaster Blasters).

What I’d like to focus on is Santa.  Papyrus describes him as “a chubby, smiling man who loves to surprise people.” From the thank you note addressed to Santa we find in Sans’s room, we can assume that Sans is a Santa, at least to Papyrus. It’s pretty fitting, since Sans can be described as someone who “knows if [we’ve] been bad or good”. Maybe he can even tell if we’re sleeping or awake with how the Dark World appears to be linked with sleep and dreams (please read my theory on Sans being a Darkner for more on this).

So we can reasonably conclude that Sans presents himself as a friendly, child-oriented figure, in-line with the nature of Comic Sans, a font for children, and Ice-E, a mascot of a company marketed towards children.

…

Santa is an anagram of Satan. 

…

To recap: Gaster’s association with the number 666 marks him as a “demon”. Chara and Sans are also called demons and similarly have connections to the number 6. This is more evidence that Gaster and Sans is or used to be the same people, and Chara has some form of correspondence with them.

I failed to mention before that there is actually a second Beast of Revelation “from the Earth” with "two horns like a lamb”. From the “earth” like Flowey, with horns like Asriel. 

Asriel is most likely the “Angel” depicted in the prophecy within the scope of Undertale; he’s named similarly to Azrael, an angel of death, and one of his attacks is literally called “Angel of Death”. He also bears a striking resemblance to the Deltarune in his God of Hyperdeath form.

Surprise, surprise, he and Sans also share parallels. 

Let’s start with their introductions. “Flowey the flower”. “Sans the skeleton”. It’s a similarly alliterative greeting and they’re both using fake names.

Mirrored dialogue yet again...

…and similar meta-commentary.

These three characters--Sans/Gaster, Chara, and Flowey/Asriel--they have all fallen. Gaster fell into his creation. Chara fell into the Underground. Asriel had “fallen down”. (Sans and Papyrus are also the only sibling pair other than Chara and Asriel. I won’t talk about Papyrus in this part though because this thing is shaping up to be too long already.)

What does this mean for Sans? I have a personal theory.

Above the entryway of the Judgement Hall, there is a reversed Deltarune. The triangles are inverted and the wings are more bat-like. In the room where only Sans appears, the same room that plays a version of “Undertale” slowed down 666%.

I think Sans is a candidate for the Angel prophesized to destroy the world in Deltarune. I think he is Sans Serif, a seraph. He fell into his experiment and became a “fallen” angel, a demon. 

The Angel’s Heaven mentioned alongside, on the other hand...  Heaven can also be used to refer to God. Dog is an anagram of God. 

Sans has many, many connections with dogs, especially one Annoying Dog. More on this next time.

Part 1 || ❤️ || Part 3

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 10 of 27: Dating

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHAPTER 9

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR AMAZING FEEDBACK! I AM BEYOND GRATEFUL FOR EVERYONE WHO READS THIS STORY! This project has become so important to me and I have so much fun working on it! Thank you thank you thank you! Also - this chapter is a little shorter and more ‘calm’ at first. But be prepared, it’s still very important to everything that follows it!! <33 Enjoy!

Words: 3.1k Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader Warnings: none

Two days after Hogsmeade …

Monday morning. You yawned and it turned into a chuckle when Malfoy mimicked you.

“It’s contagious,” he defended himself quietly to avoid attracting Professor Sprouts attention. He sat next to you, way back in the last row of the classroom. It had been your idea – after finding out that almost none of your friends believed your act, it seemed like a good idea to sit next to each other during classes. Maybe it would help convince them.

With a flick of her wand, Professor Sprout made an assignment appear on the blackboard. Nothing too difficult. You walked to the front to get the small flower you were supposed to work with and Ron glared at you from his seat. You ignored him.

Back at your table, Malfoy and you started working together quietly. When you looked at his notes, you leaned over a little too closely, feeling dizzy from the smell of his cologne. Whenever he reached for something, his hand brushed over yours. His comments were accompanied by smiles and direct eye contact. He played his part so well, you almost believed it. From the corners of your vision, you saw Ron staring.

You acted the same in every class that you shared. During breaks, you stayed together – always a few feet away from the others. You discovered how funny he could be when he gave you live-commentary of a fight happening between a Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

In the evening, you came back to your dorm, feeling unusually content. Not even the letter from the parents on your desk changed that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh, your mother had written. I simply don’t understand and I am scared for you. I can’t lose you too.

“Oh, mum,” you whispered, rubbing your neck. Then you sat down and reached for a quill. She deserved the truth. At least, a little of it.

 ***

One week after Hogsmeade …

Draco was happy.

Well, maybe happy was a little exaggerated but he felt … calmer. He used to spend his free time by himself which gave him plenty of opportunities to think. About the war, his parents, himself – and it nearly killed him. The notebook was an escape, a good way to focus, but it wasn’t enough. No matter how many pages he filled, he still felt himself sliding away from his surroundings. Now he spent that time with you – and things began to change. In those few days he even stopped dreading getting out of bed because Draco had finally something to look forward to again: spending time with you.

Draco considered you his friend. A part of him had trouble with the realization since being around someone like you went against everything his parents taught him but he tried tirelessly to shut it off. No, you were his friend and being around you made him feel almost okay.

“What are you writing?”

The sound of your voice caused Draco to look up from his notebook. The two of you sat in the library. You were across from him, finishing up on some homework. Draco shrugged. What was he supposed to say? I’m writing about you? Certainly not.

“Can I read it at some point?”, you tilted your head in curiosity. You did that a lot, Draco noticed. It reminded him of a puppy.

Am I comparing her to a dog?, he scolded himself in the next second. No, he didn’t mean it like that. He meant to think that he thought it was cute when you did that. You … were cute.

“It’s okay,” you finally said with a smile when you sensed his hesitation. “It’s personal, I get it – or do you keep track of dirty dreams in it?” You teased him.

“Only of the dreams involving you,” he winked at you, causing you to snort. Despite the joke, Draco was relieved you didn’t dig any further.

From where he sat, he had a direct view of the huge door leading inside the library. This was the reason why he saw the Greengrass sisters walking in, their gaze immediately landing upon him. He casually reached over the table and softly began to draw circles on your soft skin with the tip of his finger. He smirked at your shiver.

“Ron?”, you asked, not looking up from your book.

“Astoria,” he replied.

A few minutes later, Astoria and Daphne left again. Draco didn’t pull his hand away.

 ***

Two weeks after Hogsmeade …

Snowflakes were dancing in the cold winter air as you sat on the bleachers with Malfoy. Down on the Quidditch field, the Slytherins were practicing under the strong rule of Zabini. Games were cancelled but they still needed to stay in shape.

“I never pictured you as an Auror,” Malfoy confessed. He had asked about your future plans just seconds before.

“Why?”, you wanted to know.

He thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know. I always thought you’d become … a healer. Or a teacher maybe.”

His words made you laugh. “Are you serious?”

Malfoy nodded.

“Well, no,” you shrugged. “I wanted to be an Auror since I was little girl. And I’ll make it, believe me.”

He raised his hands in a defensive manner. “I have no doubts about that. It simply surprised me.”

You chuckled another time at the thought of becoming a teacher. It had always been the furthest thing on your mind. You loved Hogwarts, it had been your home for years but you craved to see more from the world. Especially since the war happened. You didn’t want to spend your whole life in this castle.

“What do you want to do?”, you then asked, curious as to what his answer might be. It was hard for you to picture him outside of school.

Malfoy shrugged. “I don’t know.”

It surprised you. “Really?”, you wondered. “Pureblood families like yours normally have a plan set up for their kids, don’t they?”

“Normally,” he laughed bitterly. “My father wanted me to follow his footsteps and get some high-ranking job in the Ministry. That’s not an option anymore. For obvious reasons.”

He was probably right. The wounds were still too fresh. The chances for a former Death Eater to be employed in the Ministry of Magic were slim.

You stayed on the bleachers for hours. It had only been a little over two weeks since the Halloween party and yet you had become a lot closer to Malfoy than you expected. You felt comfortable talking to him. Both of you had very different childhoods and friends – you came from different worlds. However, it was precisely this fact that made it easy to talk to each other. You were almost certain that he felt the same.

 ***

Three weeks after Hogsmeade …

Draco watched you flick through the pages of a magazine and for the first time since that night in the storage room, he saw you. And by Merlin, how beautiful you were.

He sat on the couch in the Room of Requirements with you, listening to the flames crackling in the small fireplace in front of him. You were laying down on your back, head propped up against the armrest, a small wrinkle on your forehead as you read the descriptions in the magazine. Your legs were stretched out and on his lap. Draco wondered why – no one would be around to see you anyways.

“Stop staring, Malfoy, it’s creepy,” you giggled.

Draco blinked as he snapped back into reality. “I’m not staring, I’m thinking, Y/L/N.”

“Think without staring at me.”

Easier said than done.

Draco cleared his throat. “What are you looking at anyways?”

“Christmas presents for my parents. But,” you clicked your tongue, “I can’t find anything good.”

Draco grabbed your legs and lifted them slightly while moving over closer to you. “Let me see. I’m awesome at getting gifts.”

 ***

Four weeks after Hogsmeade …

When December arrived, Hogwarts felt like home again. A cheerful atmosphere filled the castle, accompanied by snowball fights outside and hot chocolates in the common rooms. As if a spell was lifted, something changed within the students and parents alike.

You happily noticed how Ginny needed less and less of her sleeping medicine. The nightmares slowly faded, being replaced by happier memories. The letters from your mother barely mentioned your sister anymore. Instead, she talked about carriage rides in the snow with your father and her plans for Christmas dinner. For the first time in a while, you looked forward to going home.

You wondered if it was the same for Draco. When they put up the Christmas tree in the Great Hall, he got even more quiet than usual. It planted an idea inside your head and on that same day, you wrote a letter to your parents, asking them if he could spend the holidays with them. They agreed. It came to no surprise to you; your mother was eager to meet him and see if her prejudices and fears would be proven right.

“I don’t want to impose,” Draco said with a stern voice when you told him after dinner.

“You’re not! I asked them and they want to meet you. Come on,” you insisted.

He watched you with uncertainty and furrowed brows. “I don’t know. I can’t –”

“What are your plans for Christmas?”, you interrupted him.

Draco looked away at the question; that same expression of bitterness on his face that you’d seen too often for your own liking.

“I thought so,” you said softly. “Please, Draco, come with me.”

He sighed and wiped his hands over his eyes. “Why would they even want to meet me?”

You smiled widely. “You’re my boyfriend.” Never would you have thought it would sound normal to say that.

“Yes, but –”, he lowered his voice, “– but not really.”

True. For a weird reason, it stung a little to be reminded by him. “I am your friend though, aren’t I?”

He blinked at the word ‘friend’ and you wondered if he felt differently about it. Then he nodded.

“Awesome!”, you exclaimed, shooing away your worries. “Then it’s settled. Christmas at my place.”

In that moment, Harry and Ron walked passed you. Ron didn’t even glance at you. How weird, you wondered, this was the first time in days that you thought about him.

 ***

Five weeks after Hogsmeade …

 My dearest Draco,

I am delighted to hear that Y/N’s family invited you for Christmas. They are very kind to do so. Please remember to bring a little housewarming gift. Although it hurts me to be away from you this Christmas, I do believe it’s a better option for you than visiting your grandparents with me. I’m sure the holidays will be spent in a rather somber spirit this year as your father will be unable to join us. I want you to have at least a little fun and am looking forward to your stories.

Lots of love, your Mother

P.S.: I met with Mrs. Greengrass yesterday. She is not upset and gave me her word to wait until you are ready.

Draco shook his head in amusement when he finished reading the letter. Only his mother could wish him a nice time with his (fake) girlfriend and then continue with ‘if you’re done having fun, your fiancée is still available’.

“That’s why pureblood traditions are fucked up,” was something you would say right now. But you weren’t here. You were practicing for the first Quidditch game in the new year and Draco sat in his dorm, waiting for Blaise to get ready.

Reading the letter a second time, he started to wonder. Why would Mrs. Greengrass wait? Why did their family want this union so desperately? The questions were lingering on his mind ever since you brought them up months ago. He failed to come up with an answer to this day.

“Please don’t tell me that’s a letter to Y/N,” Blaise announced when he stepped out of the bathroom.

Draco rolled his eyes. “It’s from my mother, idiot.”

“Good,” his friend sighed dramatically. “Because I rarely get to see you now that you have her. No need for you to start writing love letters when she’s not around.”

Even though his nagging slightly annoyed Draco, he realized something in this moment: it had worked. The whole PDA and ‘being-more-affective-in-public’- thing worked. It had been almost two weeks since Theo or Blaise (or even Astoria) tried to get him to confess that they were faking it. His friends started to believe them.

“Yeah, whatever,” Draco gave a dismissive wave of his hand and put the letter away. “Maybe I just don’t want to see you, Zabini, and it has nothing to do with Y/N.”

Blaise laughed. “No, you love me too much. Now, let’s go. Theo’s waiting for us.”

 ***

Six weeks after Hogsmeade …

A loud shriek echoed through the classroom and you almost dropped the container of cat teeth on the floor. Parkinson jumped up and down, trying to get a slimy violet mass shaken off her leg. It didn’t budge and made its way up her pants, accompanied by absolutely disgusting slurping and smacking sounds. You tried hard to suppress a laugh but when you saw the way Harry grinned behind her, you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling.

Professor Slughorn hurried over and quickly cast a spell. The mass fell down to the floor and stopped moving. “Oh well, Ms. Parkinson,” he quickly glanced inside her cauldron. “It’s important to add the cat teeth before the mandrake juice.” Then he knelt down in front of her, inspecting her pants. “It looks like nothing got on your skin. If I am mistaken, please go and see Madame Pomfrey. It can leave nasty burns behind.”

The Slytherin girl nodded, still in shock.

“What happened?”, Draco joined you at your table. He had gone to the backroom, to gather missing ingredients.

“Parkinson got attacked by her potion,” you sneered while counting the cat teeth. “It was hilarious.”

“I bet,” he grinned, before skimming over the instructions again.

“I think I need to go and see Madame Pomfrey,” Parkinson whined behind you. “It got through the fabric of my pants.”

As if, you thought and rolled your eyes.

“Please go,” you heard Slughorn say. “Better not take any chances. Interestingly, this modified form of the potion has been used in the past. They removed foreign magical particles with it, such as certain marks that resulted from dark spells. It is very aggressive though and since then, the healers have invented different potions. However, when it touches your normal skin, it only leaves burns and scars. Please, Ms. Parkinson, please go. Mr. Nott, you can accompany her.”

“Huh,” Draco made next to you. “What did she do wrong again?”

You sighed when you saw that you had miscounted the teeth. Damnit.

“Y/N?”

“What?”, you looked at him.

Draco stared at the liquid inside the cauldron, a blank expression on his face. “What did Pansy do wrong?”

“She put in the mandrake juice before the cat teeth.” You frowned. “Why?”

“No reason.”

 ***

That same day …

It was late when you returned from Quidditch practice; tired and sweaty. All you craved was a shower and then your bed. Playing that sport in your free time was one thing but practicing under Ginny as Captain? You were glad that you didn’t die yet.

“Y/L/N!”

Someone shouted your name as you walked inside the castle.

“Y/L/N!”

Irritated, you turned around, trying to make out the person that voice belonged to.

“Y/L/N, here!” Theodore Nott sprinted down the stairs, coming from the direction of the Gryffindor common room. “Fuck, we looked everywhere for you!”, he cursed, completely out of breath, when he finally reached you.

“We?”, you asked with wide eyes. “What’s going on?”

You then noticed the fear in his eyes. He gripped so tightly onto the stair railings that his knuckles turned white and his whole body was trembling. Panic began to dwell up inside of you. Draco.

“It’s Draco, something happened,” he panted. “You have to come, please!”

Your blood froze. “What’s going on?!”, your voice turned shrill but he ran down the stairs again.

“Come!”, he shouted. “Now!”

The two of you sprinted down stairs and hallways, passing confused classmates on the way. Adrenaline pumped through your veins and you repeated the same sentence over and over again in your head: Something happened to Draco. The thought of it was unbearable and it hit you like a brick wall, making it hard to breathe. Please, no. Not him.

When you reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Theodore turned to you abruptly. He grabbed you by your shoulders. “Act normal,” he hissed. “Walk slowly. They don’t need to know.”

You nodded absently. Your hands were clam and you tried to calm down your breathing.

“Okay,” he didn’t seem convinced that you understood him. Then he mumbled the password and the door opened.

Under normal circumstances, you would have stopped in the middle of the room, looking around in awe. You’d never been here before; it was a mystery to you. But now, you only briefly glanced at the green and black furniture. There weren’t many students around. The ones that saw you, stared at your red Quidditch robes.

“What the fuck?”, someone said loudly. “What’s she doing here?!”

Nott ignored them, leading you quickly to the stairs that must have led up to the dorms. You noticed the windows on the way up and gasped when you realized that you didn’t look at the fields of Hogwarts. You were under the Black Lake.

“Finally,” Zabini exclaimed. He had waited in front of a door, looking just as shaken up as Nott. “You found her.”

“What’s going on?”, you asked for the third time now. “Where is he?”, your voice trembled a little.

“In here,” Nott pointed at the room. “In the bathroom. He locked himself in.”

“He wouldn’t let us in and asked for you,” Zabini continued with a quiet voice, fidgeting with his hands. “It’s … you’ll see. Just go in and help him.” He paused briefly. “Please.”

You nodded and reached for the door handle. Three deep breaths. One … two … three.

You pushed open the door and stepped in, closing it softly behind you. Looking around, everything looked perfectly ordinary. Three beds, three wardrobes, a table. Your gaze wandered over to the door that lead into the bathroom. Then you heard it – a sob. And another one. Someone was crying. He was crying. Your heart broke at the sound.

“Draco?”

 ***

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! <33 Also: did you notice Y/N stopped calling him “Malfoy” halfway through the chapter and switched to “Draco”? 

CHAPTER 11

“Choose Me Instead” Masterlist HP Masterlist

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