#i did not intend to write this post today but it ended up just sort of spilling out onto the page

[blindmanbaldwin]

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“He [Safin] offers the possibility to Bond to stay alive, but being unable to near the people he loves which is ultimately a checkmate of cosmic proportions.”  - Academy-Award winning director Guillermo del Toro on the ending of “No Time to Die”

Appears my earlier post got a little bit of a reaction! Specifically, the bit in which “No Time to Die” cinematographer Linus Sandgren refers to Madeleine Swann as “the love of his life”. This provides a good opportunity to talk about on this platform what I think the logic is across the five-film CraigBond story and how Swann fits into this narrative.

“What are they burning?” “Secrets, wishes, letting go of the past. Getting rid of the old, in comes the new.“

When we’re introduced to the character in “Casino Royale”, we see James Bond commit the first two kills that make him a 00. This doesn’t have its origins in the novels, so I think that number of two bears particular note. You can’t just kill one person, you have to kill two. Every time you hurt someone you are hurting two people: the other person, and you.

Now, there’s a through-line across all five movies — it is impossible to live a life if your life is killing people. We don’t need to look any further than the opening stanza to Chris Cornell’s “You know My Name”, the opening song to “Casino Royale”:

If you take a life do you know what you'll give?  Odds are you won't like what it is

There are two people who exist: “James Bond” and “007″. One is a killer, one is not. Every time “007″ kills, it pushes “James Bond” further away from his humanity. I’m reminded of a line from “A Boy Like That” from “West Side Story” (A boy who kills cannot love/A boy who kills has no heart) that seems quite applicable to the character of James Bond, be it the literary or the film Bond. And the unfortunate curse of his profession is his licence to kill ends up being a double-edged sword. Or, as Dominic Greene says in “Quantum of Solace”:

The tragedy at the core of “Casino Royale” is this fundamental divide within the character — if he holds onto his power over death, then everything he loves is doomed to die. James Bond’s identity is murder and death. But he yearns, so desperately, for connection. He is the Dangerous Lover fully. When he meets Vesper, he immediately falls for her and is willing to give up his everything for her but it is of no use. Vesper betrays him out of her own past attachment — honeypotted into a romance used to blackmail her — and she kills herself to spare Bond’s life. Yet, in pure irony, by saving Bond’s physical life she killed his humanity. 

It is fitting in “Casino Royale” that the iconic line of the cinematic Bond (”Bond, James Bond”) doesn’t appear until right at the end of the film  when Bond shoots the man responsible for the decision Vesper made. We are linking his identity to this act, that the choice Vesper made to save him drove him into being who we (the audience) know him as — a killer. His heart is sealed off when he uses that nasty, five-letter word in reference to Vesper. 

If the ending of “Casino Royale” positions the character at his lowest — a totally heartless killer devoid of any humanity — then everything subsequent shows some kind of transformation out of that place. Drama is movement, after all. Stagnation is the enemy of functional storytelling. 

“Quantum of Solace” features Bond wandering through the desert and restoring water to a thirsty people. The symbolism of this plot-beat is fairly straightforward — despite all his best intentions, there is a capacity for this killer to give life instead of just taking life. That bargain he made at the beginning of “Casino Royale” is not permanent (powers over death in exchange for your humanity/soul). He can emerge out of the desert and find rebirth. Transform into something new, restore what was lost. 

The ending shot of “Quantum of Solace” — featuring Vesper’s jewel given to her by the honeypotter (is that word?) —  is such a powerful image. It’s as if Bond is separating himself from his feeling, from his humanity. Committing to the life of a killer.

I have a whole thing about the use of silhouette in “Skyfall” and how Silva exists as a shadow-self of Bond’s anger towards M (which, I think, projects onto the death of his biological mother as every mythic hero has two sets of parents). Silva and Sévérine are a perverted mirror of Bond’s metatextual legacy, with the ending of the film arguing that there is something salvageable within this character with such a misogynistic legacy:

M, the surrogate mother, dies and gives Bond this last word — “I did get one thing right.” The goal of every parent, one imagines, is to not completely fuck up their child. M did fuck up Tiago Rodriquez (birthing Silva) but did not do the same to Bond. James Bond had every opportunity to end up like Tiago Rodriquez (literally “dying” and ending up with a clean slate to do whatever he wants with), but he returned when he found out MI6 (M, his “mother”) was in danger and worked to protect her. Because he loves her — despite sealing his heart off all those years ago, he still does love. That’s what she got right, maintain that humanity within Bond that so many others in this profession lose when they exist within death. 

That man Bond shot at the end of “Casino Royale”, Mr. White, returns in “Spectre” — the key to Bond unraveling the mysterious organization that threatens global stability. Only this Mr. White is not the master assassin we last saw him as in “Quantum of Solace”, now he is frail and weak. Isolated. Mr. White abandoned the cause after the organization started targeting women and children, and now he waits for death to come for him as penance for what he has done in life. White recognizes how he and Bond are basically the same person — men who bring death upon the world, which ends up drawing distance between them and humanity at large. 

But Mr. White has one thing keeping him alive:

Madeleine Swann is among the more fascinating characters in any popular, brand-name movie I’ve come across. The basic conceit of her character is “What if Death had a daughter, and she was the force of Life?”. She is a doctor who worked with international organizations that travel around the world healing people. This is, obviously, the equal opposite of Bond’s “licence to kill”. How could something so healing come from a man of total destruction? Mr. White is a particularly nasty guy, yet out from him emerged her. What a beautiful, hopeful message — the spark of life will always emerge no matter how bleak its circumstances are in existence.

“Spectre” shapes like a fairy tale: this dark knight (Bond) travels to the Pale King (Mr. White) thanks to a magical ring (the Spectre Ring), and the dying King tasks him to go save the Princess (Madeleine Swann) from the wizard who killed him. But the only way the knight can save the Princess is if he throws down his sword — because what really hurts her is killing. Or, as Swann says:

From the moment they meet, there is something different about Dr. Swann. She doesn’t just know Bond’s world — she *is* Bond’s world. She came from the same World of Death that he navigates in, yet emerged out of that a being of Life. A Doctor, the opposite of a Killer. Madeleine Swann serves as the total antithesis to the cruel belief Bond resigned himself to at the end of “Casino Royale” — life can emerge out of the underworld. 

Going back to “Skyfall” for a moment, all of the stag imagery associated with Bond’s family in the film seems important — the stags antlers regrow each year. Out of the death of winter comes the rebirth of spring. New life from death

And there’s a line Silva tells Bond in his monologue where he talks about the psychological transformation MI6 makes agents go under through a parable of his childhood:

The default nature, “Skyfall” proposes, isn’t hurting but helping. We aren’t programmed to kill from birth, someone has to teach us to do that. Silva believes this is irreversible, but as we see through Bond’s journey in the film one can change their nature again back to a helper. Back to healing. Nothing is set in stone. The daughter of an assassin can become a force for life.

As the world’s biggest fan of “Spectre”, I’ll admit I was a bit concerned when I saw Daniel Craig was returning for one last Bond film and that Léa Seydoux was also coming back with him. I loved the ending of “Spectre” — the hero rejects the power of death (think the magical ending of “Return of the Jedi”) and embraces the love of life/life of love. He finds rebirth in this heart. His journey was complete! What more was there to tell?

Ha. Haha. Hahaha...

The trick about “No Time to Die”, dramatically, is it as much the story of Madeleine Swann is the story of James Bond. But more than anything, it is a meta-analysis of James Bond.  

In “No Time to Die”, we return to Vesper’s grave (a beat taken from the novel “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service”, to the silly people I’ve seen on the MI6 forums or Reddit argue that the literary character wouldn’t do this).Vesper represents all of the death associated with Bond, and Swann tasks him to go to her grave to “let go”. They cannot have a future together if he cannot let go of his past. His past of killing will deny them a future. For Swann harbors a secret...

When Del Toro refers to the ending of “No Time to Die” as a cosmic checkmate, this is what he means — the base cosmological forces of life and death are in Bond’s hands, and he gets to choose which will emerge victorious. All of these films have featured him journeying to regain the humanity he lost in “Casino Royale”, the soul he loses every time he pulls the trigger of his Walther PPK. But the choice of him isn’t to throw down the weapon, the choice is for him to make the same choice M made in “Skyfall” or Vesper made in “Casino Royale” — die for love. 

Madeleine Swann, as someone born of this same dark world of death, is the only one equipped to handle the psychological weight of James Bond — because they have this same pain. The first pre-title sequence of “No Time to Die”, where we see Madeleine’s mother (or Mr. White’s lover) die like the archetypal “Bond Girl” dies, grounds this in such a harrowing way. Both have seen their lives dramatically altered by betrayal of those who they loved, and because of this is betrayal it reduced the possibility of them finding restoration. 

Broken in the same way. Fitting together perfectly because of it. Isn’t that love? She is life coming from death, and he is death coming from life. Equal opposites that form a perfect circle.

The inescapable irony of human existence is our attachments power us to exist but they also give us so much distress. A melted heart (good) and a broken heart (bad) are both destructive. Or, as Léa Seydoux (Madeleine Swann) described it in the marketing for “No Time to Die” — love is the promise of suffering. The love potion is the poison. That which save, kills. That which kills, saves. At the end of “No Time to Die”, Bond could walk away and live with the knowledge that he would one day kill Madeleine Swann. His touch would one day kill her. But instead, he chooses death. He becomes a mortal man through love. He gives up everything for her. He dies *into* the relationship. As Deborah Lutz writes in “The Dangerous Lover” (40):

“The poignancy of love in romance comes from the sense that, once the full presence of love arrives, the characters will be gone; they will die in their narrative; there will be nothing left to say. Love becomes a fantasy of dying, a liebestod”.

The plotting of “No Time to Die” involves nanobots that kills on contact. Basically, it is literalizing that metaphor from “Quantum of Solace” — a literal Midas touch of death. What’s the only way for Bond to get out of this situation when he is poisoned with something that can kill the only person he loves? Let go. The only way he can have a future is if he lets go.

This is the magic of “No Time to Die”, and by extension the character of Madeleine Swann — cinema’s most famous killer has been transformed through her love into a life creator. The bleeding gun barrel has turned into one of light. The iconic line of the character has turned into something else entirely. Not the calling card of a killer it was in “Casino Royale”, but one of a life-giver.

Because much as this being of life-energy could come from Mr. White, so to could something beautiful come from Bond. His eyes (eyes=soul) could pass on into something new. New life could grow from his old death. Out of love we find redemption and rebirth. No wonder the last face we see in the CraigBond films isn’t his own, but his daughter’s. A smiling girl. With his blue eyes staring back at us...

“I got one thing right.” This is why Madeleine Swann is the love of his life. Because she *is* his life. She is the proof he can change his nature and finish his journey to find his ocean-eyed soul once again. All the cosmologic power of the divine in his hand, and James Bond lets it all go to save her. Which, by extension, saves himself.  No longer a murder. Now a man. The only thing he ever wanted to be. 

[dailyadventureprompts]

Monsters Reimagined: Bandits

As a game of heroic fantasy that centers so primarily on combat, D&D  is more often than not a game about righteous violence, which is why I spend so much time thinking about the targets of that violence. Every piece of media made by humans is a thing created from conscious or unconscious design, it’s saying something whether or not its creators intended it to do so. 

Tolkien made his characters peaceloving and pastoral, and coded his embodiment of evil as powerhungry, warlike, and industrial. When d&d directly cribbed from Tolkien's work it purposely changed those enemies to be primitive tribespeople who were resentful of the riches the “civilized” races possessed. Was this intentional? None can say, but as a text d&d says something decidedly different than Tolkien. 

That's why today I want to talk about bandits, the historical concept of being an “outlaw”, and how media uses crime to “un-person” certain classes of people in order to give heroes a target to beat up. 

Tldr: despite presenting bandits as a generic threat, most d&d scenarios never go into detail about what causes bandits to exist, merely presuming the existence of outlaws up to no good that the heroes should feel no qualms about slaughtering. If your story is going to stand up to the scrutiny of your players however, you need to be aware of WHY these individuals have been driven to banditry, rather than defaulting to “they broke the law so they deserve what’s coming to them.”

I got to thinking about writing this post when playing a modded version of fallout 4, an npc offhndedly mentioned to me that raiders (the postapoc bandit rebrand) were too lazy to do any farming and it was good that I’d offed them by the dozens so that they wouldn’t make trouble for those that did. 

That gave me pause, fallout takes place in an irradiated wasteland where folks struggle to survive but this mod was specifically about rebuilding infrastructure like farms and ensuring people had enough to get by. Lack of resources to go around was a specific justification for why raiders existed in the first place, but as the setting became more arable the mod-author had to create an excuse why the bandit’s didn’t give up their violent ways and start a nice little coop, settling on them being inherently lazy , dumb, and psychopathic.   

This is exactly how d&d has historically painted most of its “monstrous humanoid” enemies. Because the game is ostensibly about combat the authors need to give you reasons why a peaceful solution is impossible, why the orcs, goblins, gnolls (and yes, bandits), can’t just integrate with the local town or find a nice stretch of wilderness to build their own settlement on and manage in accordance with their needs. They go so far in this justification that they end up (accidently or not) recreating a lot of IRL arguments for persecution and genocide.

Bandits are interesting because much like cultists, it’s a descriptor that’s used to unperson groups of characters who would traditionally be inside the “not ontologically evil” bubble that’s applied to d&d’s protagonists.   Break the law or worship the wrong god says d&d and you’re just as worth killing as the mindless minions of darkness, your only purpose to serve as a target of the protagonist’s righteous violence.  

The way we get around this self-justification pitfall and get back to our cool fantasy action game is to relentlessly question authority, not only inside the game but the authors too. We have to interrogate anyone who'd show us evil and direct our outrage a certain way because if we don't we end up with crusades, pogroms, and Qanon.

With that ethical pill out of the way, I thought I’d dive into a listing of different historical groups that we might call “Bandits” at one time or another and what worldbuilding conceits their existence necessitates. 

Brigands: By and large the most common sort of “bandit” you’re going to see are former soldiers left over from wars, often with a social gap between them and the people they’re raiding that prevents reintegration ( IE: They’re from a foreign land and can’t speak the local tongue, their side lost and now they’re considered outlaws, they’re mercenaries who have been stiffed on their contract).  Justifying why brigands are out brigading is as easy as asking yourself “What were the most recent conflicts in this region and who was fighting them?”. There’s also something to say about how a life of trauma and violence can be hard to leave even after the battle is over, which is why you historically tend to see lots of gangs and paramilitary groups pop up in the wake of conflict. 

Raiders:  fundamentally the thing that has caused cultures to raid eachother since the dawn of time is sacristy. When the threat of starvation looms it’s far easier to justify potentially throwing your life away if it means securing enough food to last you and those close to you through the next year/season/day. Raider cultures develop in biomes that don’t support steady agriculture, or in times where famine, war, climate change, or disease make the harvests unreliable. They tend to target neighboring cultures that DO have reliable harvests which is why you frequently see raiders emerging from “the barbaric frontier” to raid “civilization” that just so happens to occupy the space of a reliably fertile river valley. When thinking about including raiders in your story, consider what environmental forces have caused this most recent and previous raids, as well as consider how frequent raiding has shaped the targeted society. Frequent attacks by raiders is how we get walled palaces and warrior classes after all, so this shit is important. 

Slavers: Just like raiding, most cultures have engaged in slavery at one point or another, which is a matter I get into here. While raiders taking captives is not uncommon, actively attacking people for slaves is something that starts occurring once you have a built up slave market, necessitating the existence of at least one or more hierarchical societies that need more disposable workers than then their lower class is capable of providing. The roman legion and its constant campaigns was the apparatus by which the imperium fed its insatiable need for cheap slave labor. Subsistence raiders generally don’t take slaves en masse unless they know somewhere to sell them, because if you’re having trouble feeding your own people you’re not going to capture more ( this is what d&d gets wrong about monstrous humanoids most of the time). 

Tax Farmers: special mention to this underused classic, where gangs of toughs would bid to see who could collect money for government officials, and then proceed to ransack the realm looking to squeeze as much money out of the people as possible. This tends to happen in areas where the state apparatus is stretched too thin or is too lighthanded to have established enduring means of funding.  Tax farmers are a great one-two punch for campaigns where you want your party to be set up against a corrupt authority: our heroes defeat the marauding bandits and then oh-no, turns out they were not only sanctioned by the government but backed by an influential political figure who you’ve just punched in the coinpurse.  If tax farming exists it means the government is strong enough to need a yearly budget but not so established (at least in the local region) that it’s developed a reliably peaceful method of maintaining it.  

Robber Baron: Though the term is now synonymous with ruthless industrialists, it originated from the practice of shortmidned petty gentry (barons and knights and counts and the like) going out to extort and even rob THEIR OWN LANDS out of a desire for personal enrichment/boredom. Schemes can range from using their troops to shake down those who pass through their domain to outright murdering their own peasants for sport because you haven’t gotten to fight in a war for a while.  Just as any greed or violence minded noble can be a robber baron so it doesn’t take that much of a storytelling leap but I encourage you to channel all your landlord hate into this one. 

Rebels: More than just simple outlaws, rebels have a particular cause they’re a part of (just or otherwise) that puts them at odds with the reigning authority. They could violently support a disfavoured political faction, be acting out against a law they think is unjust, or hoping to break away from the authority entirely. Though attacks against those figures of authority are to be expected, it’s all too common for rebels to go onto praying on common folk for the sake of the cause.  To make a group of rebels worth having in your campaign pinpoint an issue that two groups of people with their own distinct interests could disagree on, and then ratchet up the tension. Rebels have to be able to beleive in a cause, so they have to have an argument that supports them.

Remnants: Like a hybrid of brigands, rebels, and taxfarmers, Remnants represent a previously legitimate system of authority that has since been replaced but not yet fully disappeared. This can happen either because the local authority has been replaced by something new (feudal nobles left out after a monarchy toppling revolution) or because it has faded entirely ( Colonial forces of an empire left to their own devices after the empire collapses). Remnants often sat at the top of social structures that had endured for generations and so still hold onto the ghost of power ( and the violence it can command) and the traditions that support it.  Think about big changes that have happened in your world of late, are the remnants looking to overturn it? Win new privilege for themselves? Go overlooked by their new overlords?

Art

[forjongseong]

pine-fresh // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: slytherin!jay x gryffindor!fem!reader

genre: hogwarts!au, somewhat rivals to lovers, smut (minors dni)

warning: profanity, a lot of making out, fingering // word count: ~4k

summary: a dash of bickering and a whole lot of miscommunication in Potions class landed you and Slytherin's Park Jongseong in detention. did you ask for it? no. did you regret it? also, no.

author's note: at last, the Slytherin!Jay of my imagination has now, sort of, come to life...

ever since I came across that edit you see on the header, I've thought about him A LOT. now that his hair is actually silver, I have thought about him MORE. especially when @jaylaxies made this, which I thought about ALSO a lot... let's just say that Slytherin!Jay has been occupying my mind a lot more than I expected.

my knowledge on the HP universe is quite limited, so please excuse if some scenes don't seem too believable (like Snape somewhat being less strict here, or detention being scrubbing the bathroom). the title of this fic refers to the password that is needed to enter the Prefects' bathroom.

now, I know I say when I post oneshots I intend for them to be standalone fics, meaning that I most likely won't write a part two. but for this one??? if a lot of you like it, and a lot of you ask for it, I might be open to writing a sequel (once I conduct a lengthy research on Hogwarts grounds)

anyway, I hope you enjoy this little treat! I'm trying to shake off my writer's block, so please expect secretary!Jay to return soon.

taglist: @jaylaxies @excusememissiloveyou @thots4hee @end-hyphen @nyanggk @maggstar @bucketofhiros @shinkenprincess-oh @mydarlingjay @mochimchimo @jongseonglogy @strawberrification12 @xiaoderrrr

permanent taglist is open! send an ask or DM if you want to be tagged.

As your House’s Prefect and one of the smartest students at school, you thought it would be impossible to dislike a class. Getting good grades in almost every subject seemed to prove that you liked learning everything, but by God, you hated Potions. Other than the fact that the lessons took place in a literal dungeon, which made it colder than any of the classrooms above, you always had to deal with the unpleasant smell of whatever was brewing in the room. Add the inconvenient detail that half of the class consisted of Slytherin students, which was more than you could tolerate.

You did not know when it started, maybe since the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor or when you witnessed one of your classmates getting teased by a Slytherin, but you had a strong aversion to anything related to that house. It became so bad to the point that whenever you got paired with a Slytherin for an assignment, all you wanted to do was to get the job done quickly for the both of you so you could leave the class as soon as possible.

“Miss L/N,” called Professor Snape. Your head snapped up and you locked eyes with him, somehow convincing him that you had been listening to all his instructions despite staring into the empty vials on your table. “Today you’ll be working with Park Jongseong.”

You nodded softly and once Snape turned his head towards another student, you made an audible groan and leaned back on your chair.

“You don’t sound so happy to be paired with me.”

Jay took the now unoccupied seat beside you and sat with a force that made his robe flutter. The flash of green caught your eye, and you hesitantly pulled your books to your side, making room for his on the table.

“I’ll handle the mixing,” you replied, completely unrelated to his remark.

Jay frowned before letting out a soft chuckle. “Wow, I guess you really aren’t in the mood today.”

You turned your head only slightly enough to shoot daggers at him with your eyes, and his response was just a huff to his face, messing up the silver bangs on his forehead. The sound of Professor Snape’s voice caught your attention, so you straightened up and listened intently, but also noticed how Jay was mimicking you. Once you were all instructed to begin, Jay grabbed his quill and started making notes for the recipe.

For the first couple of minutes, the process went well. You were mixing and adding stuff according to Jay’s dictation. However, after he misread the measurements for a certain ingredient, causing your brew to bubble uncontrollably, you began scolding him and blaming him for everything.

“What’s distracting you? How could you have misread that?” You half-shouted, a handkerchief in your hand as you attempted to clean up your surroundings.

“Maybe if you weren’t shaking so much when you’re holding the vials then I could have paid more attention,” Jay retorted, snatching a vial from your other hand to prevent more spills. “We should switch. You tell me what to do and I’ll redo everything.”

“That will take us even longer, and everyone else is already halfway done,” you complained as you looked around the class. You saw Professor Snape eyeing your table.

“Do you have another solution?” Jay asked, staring back at you.

You reluctantly agreed to switch tasks, but it turned out that Jay was worse than you. He kept spilling liquid, pouring more than needed, and overall causing more chaos than when he was just giving you instructions. Your grunts and groans were starting to gain the attention of the whole classroom, and by the time you were almost done, the bell rang.

The sound of your quill hitting your book was silenced by the footsteps of the other students exiting the classroom. They had finished their potions, and your table was literally the only one in the room that was still messy, with a mixture that looked too suspicious to be called a potion.

“I have been patient enough to let you two bicker the whole time, but for you to not finish making your potions,” Professor Snape said as he walked back to his desk, his cape almost floating behind him.

“Great, he’s gonna put us in detention,” you muttered to yourself.

“That is correct, Miss L/N,” Professor Snape continued. “Once you’re both done cleaning up your table, meet me in my office.”

The frown you wore on your face was so bad that anybody who saw you could easily tell that you were pissed, but between gathering the books and papers and wiping off spills with a cloth, you could have sworn you saw Jay smirking to himself.

---

As you placed a bucket of water in the middle of the Prefects’ bathroom, you sighed at the exhaustion that you felt despite not having even started your detention. You and Jay were both assigned to clean up the bathroom, which, despite only being restricted to use by the school Prefects, Head Boys, Head Girls, and Quidditch captains, was in an alarmingly grimy state.

You purposefully steered away from the side of the room with the toilet stalls and stood by the large, swimming pool-like tub sunken into the ground with bath taps surrounding it. The tub was drained, and you much preferred scrubbing it to cleaning all the toilets.

Jay was standing by the bath supplies on one side of the pool, staring at the different kinds of soap, bath oils, bath salts, shampoo, and conditioner. It took a while for him to realize you were glaring at him, basically waiting for him to start working already.

“Damn, it would be worth becoming a Prefect just to be able to use this bathroom,” Jay muttered, placing a small bottle of bath oil back in its place. “You must take baths all the time.”

You snorted, audible enough to make it echo throughout the whole room. “I don’t have time for baths.”

“Really? What a shame,” Jay sighed, rolling up his sleeves. “How long do you think it would take for us to finish?”

“If you keep using your mouth instead of your hands, probably a lot longer than I expect,” you replied without a pause, sounding annoyed.

Your snarky remarks did not bother Jay at all. In fact, it amused him, and the way he was laughing softly was not helping at all. He walked over to the stalls and finally began to work only minutes after you started.

“Today is really not your day, huh?” Jay’s voice echoed behind the stalls.

“Thanks to you, it’s not,” you answered, polishing one of the hundred golden bath taps that surrounded the tub.

“You know,” Jay started, only to pause to flush the toilet so he wouldn’t have to compete with the sound. “I have a feeling that you don’t like me.”

You rolled your eyes and moved your bucket to polish the other bath taps. Jay cleared his throat as he waited for your reply.

“Is it because I’m a Slytherin?” He asked. “I mean, it’s kinda unfair that just because I’m in this House, you automatically hate me—”

“I don’t hate you,” you finally responded. “Hate is a strong word.”

“Alright then,” Jay walked out of one stall and looked in your direction before entering the next stall. “So, what’s the story?”

You let out a heavy sigh and wrung out the cloth you were holding. It was a long story, you thought to yourself. You came from a family of Slytherins—both your parents and your older brother were—but since you were old enough to understand and remember things, you had always been the odd one out in your family. They would excel academically and go on to achieve things you never even dreamed of. Your interests were always different, and what got you far at school was thanks to your personality and smart work.

It was still a vivid memory to you, the moment you sat down and let the Sorting Hat analyze you. You thought you would hear a confident ‘Slytherin!’ from the Hat, but after a couple of seconds of deciding, it placed you in Gryffindor. Switching houses was never a thing, so you did what you could and made good friends, studied hard enough to make the professors notice you, and eventually, you earned the title of Prefect as you entered the fifth year.

Despite that, throughout the years in Hogwarts, you kept hearing and witnessing stories about Slytherins, how they always happen to achieve so much but at the same time are notoriously problematic. The house you once dreamed of being a part of quickly became one that you were relieved to be excluded from, but somehow, the longing remains.

Around your third year in Hogwarts, you began hearing chatter about Park Jongseong. He became popular, it seemed, after he was assigned to be the Keeper of Slytherin’s Quidditch team, and also after he had an insane glow-up. You then noticed that he was the quiet nerd who used to bury his nose in whatever book he was reading in a dark corner in the library, but since then, he had ditched his glasses and styled his luscious silver locks in a way that—

“Y/N, are you okay?”

Jay’s voice woke you up from your extensive daydreaming, and it made you realize you were polishing one bath tap for way too long.

“How long were you polishing that tap?” Jay asked, tilting his chin towards your hand.

His question spooked you, and you were beginning to think he might have heard your thoughts. You cleared your throat before moving to the next tap. “Not long, why?”

“Because I’m done with all the toilet stalls, and I noticed you haven’t moved an inch.”

Well, that’s embarrassing, you thought. How long exactly did you zone out for?

“Should I start cleaning the pool’s floor then?” He asked, fixing his folded sleeves before squatting down and then jumping into the empty pool.

“Sure,” you said, immediately picking up your pace and trying your best not to steal any more glances in his direction.

“Listen,” Jay began, both his hands firmly holding a mop. “You got really silent after I asked a question, so I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable. We can continue to work in silence if that’s what you prefer.”

You smiled as you moved on to the next tap. “It’s fine. I was just tired.”

You refocused on your own task, determined to leave the bathroom spotless, but after a moment, you noticed Jay moving oddly around the pool floor, dragging his mop in a way that was not normal. When you lifted your head to look at him, you saw that he was singing, no, lip-syncing a song and using the mop as a mic stand, completely immersed in his imagination but being considerate not to bother you with noise.

At this sight, you burst out laughing. Jay stood up straight and turned his heel to face you, looking surprised.

“Please,” you said after you contained yourself, “do continue.”

“Miss Prefect,” Jay sighed, “this bathroom is way too huge for only two of us to clean. Do you think we can sneak out and get our wands from Snape’s office?”

You shook your head. “The door is locked with a password.”

“But you’re Miss Prefect,” Jay said, matter-of-factly. “Don’t you know the password?”

“He literally changed it after leaving us here with these cleaning supplies, Jay. I don’t know the new password.”

Jay paused and for a moment you thought he was figuring out a way to escape, when in reality, his stomach just did a backflip from the way his name rolled off your tongue.

“So, what you’re saying is there is literally no way to get out of this bathroom unless we finish cleaning it?” Jay asked.

“That is the point of detention, yes,” you replied, shrugging.

Jay groaned and turned around, pushing his mop and reluctantly continuing to clean the pool floor. You were almost halfway done with polishing all the bath taps, and you sighed as you looked at all the mirrors waiting to be scrubbed clean too.

After a while, Jay finished scrubbing the floors, and you began to wonder if you should have taken his work instead since the bath taps seemed like a never-ending task to complete. He loosened the tie around his neck and undid the first few buttons on his shirt, making you quickly look away.

“Should I help you with the bath taps or start doing the mirrors?” Jay walked over to your side before pushing himself up the edge and then standing up, towering over you.

“Mirrors, please,” you answered, this time tilting your chin to point at the direction of the sinks.

“Really? Because you seem like you’re taking your sweet time polishing all those taps,” Jay said, tilting his head to one side.

You looked up at him and he had this teasing, lop-sided smirk. Meanwhile, the unintentional doe eyes you were giving him made him almost choke on his own saliva.

“Just do the mirrors, Jay.”

You saw him smile the second you finished your sentence, and when he turned his back to you, it somehow looked like his shoulders were happy. He stood in front of the sink and did a quick count on the number of mirrors he had to clean. You saw him start from the far left, where one of the mirrors was cracked on the edge.

“Be careful with that one. Ravenclaw’s Head Girl almost—”

“Fuck!”

You heard Jay groan as he stumbled a few steps back, wincing in pain and shaking his left hand.

“Jay,” you sighed, standing up and throwing the cloth you were holding to the floor. “I didn’t even finish my sentence.”

You walked up to him and stood before him with your hand out. He looked at you questionably before lifting his left hand for you to take a look.

“Is it bad?” He asked, slightly looking away. “I don’t like the sight of blood.”

“That explains a lot,” you muttered, placing your hand carefully over his. “Oh, my God.”

“What? What is it?” Jay asked, his right hand shaking in panic.

“Your fingers are so thick and stubby, like cocktail sausages.”

Jay snorted before pulling his hand away and you giggled.

“It’s just a scratch,” you said in an attempt to calm him down. “You can carry on.”

“Well, do you have something I can use to treat it?” Jay asked.

You were already sitting by the edge of the pool to continue with your polishing. “Do I look like a walking first aid kit to you? Just spit on it and move on.”

Jay looked at you, unsure of your advice. He then turned around and decided to wash his hands with soap. The suds obviously stung, so he was flinching and wincing quietly, but he could see you giggling silently from your reflection in the mirror in front of him.

“Do you really mean it?” Jay spoke, looking at you through the mirror.

“Mean what?”

“That I have stubby fingers,” Jay clarified.

You were unsure what to make of his tone. He sounded curious but also hurt, or maybe…

“So what if you do?” You asked back, not paying attention to him.

The strands of your hair were becoming loose and covering your eyes, and you were dying to fix the scrunchie on your ponytail, but both your hands were wet and occupied with polishing. You kept huffing and puffing and even attempting to move your hair using the movements of your shoulders until Jay sneaked up behind you and tapped you on your arm.

“Here, allow me,” Jay said calmly, tugging on your scrunchie.

You sat up straight and let him pull your scrunchie off, letting your hair cascade to your back. He began brushing your hair with his fingers before gently bunching it into a ponytail. He skillfully tied your hair up into a bun that was less messy than before. You were about to thank him, but he moved from behind you and jumped back into the empty pool, standing in front of you and tucking the loose strands of hair behind both your ears.

His fingers brushed against your ear, and for a moment, you were lost in his eyes. The next thing you felt was his hand behind your neck, pulling you closer as he stood in between your legs, his lips crashing against yours. You sighed as you let yourself be enveloped in his warmth—his tongue tugging yours, his lips devouring yours, his palms pushing against your back, and his breath mixing up with yours.

You felt his hand travel lower down your back, settling on your ass before he pushed you closer to him, earning a soft yelp from between your lips. His mouth detached from yours only to give you a sly smirk before he dove back into you. Your hands rested comfortably on his shoulders as you gave into his every move, and when you felt one of his hands grazing the exposed skin of your thigh from the gap between your skirt and your knee-high socks, you gasped.

“Wanna see what these fingers can do?” Jay asked, speaking right against your lips.

Your eyes searched for his before you nodded a little too eagerly. He chuckled before sliding his hand between your legs and under your skirt. His fingers easily found their place on your clothed cunt, and despite his gentle moves, you could not hold in your moans.

“Jay,” you whimpered, hands bunching up his shirt.

“Oh, I like it when you say my name like that,” he teased, leaving a wet peck on your chin. “Can you say it again?”

He pressed his thumb on your clit before sliding it down your folds, and he could already tell that you were soaked. You were biting your lip, and he chuckled, bringing the same hand that was caressing you up and towards your chin.

“Come on, now,” Jay cooed. “Prefects are usually good students. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

His thumb slid upon your bottom lip, and you could almost sniff the scent of your own arousal. You were trembling at this point, desperate to feel more of him, so all you could give as a response was a nod.

“Say my name.”

“Jay—”

Your voice was muffled as he slid in a finger when you opened your mouth. You instinctively sucked on it before he entered another one, and then he hurriedly placed his hand back between your legs, pushing your panties to the side before easily sliding those two fingers inside of you.

“Jay!” You moaned loudly, spreading your legs wider so he could do whatever he wanted to do to you comfortably. Your fingers reached for the back of his head, pulling on his silver locks before you pushed his head to your neck. He began licking the soft skin under your chin before placing wet kisses down your neck. With one hand, you unbuttoned your top and pulled your collar open, giving him more access to your skin. He sucked on your collarbone softly and, at the same time, curled his fingers inside of you.

You repeatedly moaned into his ear, and at some point, you thought you sounded way too pathetic, but the way Jay was thrusting his fingers in and out of you and the way the squelching sound was echoing throughout the whole bathroom made you believe that the sounds you were making were actually quite tame.

“Jay,” you sighed. “Oh, my God.”

Jay lifted his head from your neck and flashed you a proud smirk before leaning in to kiss you again. You whined at the contact, and as your hands found his face, you began to caress him, pull him, and do whatever was necessary to send the message that you wanted him bad.

You felt the increasing pace of his fingers between your legs, and you began to feel the ache in your ass for sitting on the edge of the pool for too long. Jay pressed his thumb on your clit, and you threw your head back in pleasure, grabbing onto his biceps for support. When your moans started to sound higher and more in sync with the movements of his fingers, Jay leaned in and pressed his cheek onto yours before speaking right into your ear.

“Cum for me, will you?”

The deep tone and gentle vibration of his voice sent shivers down your spine, and with that, you finally reached your high. Your legs were shaking, and to soothe you, Jay began kissing your cheek softly. He kept kissing you and moving towards your lips, giving you a long peck before moving down to your chin and neck. He kissed the parts of your skin that were beginning to turn purple, and once he heard your leveled breathing, he pulled away to take a good look at you.

“Good girl,” he said right to your face.

You playfully, and very gently, slapped his face. He let out a wholehearted chuckle before pulling his hand from between your legs. Just seconds later, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching the bathroom door. Your eyes widened, and Jay quickly registered the situation. He fixed your collar for you to button up before he sprinted back to the mirror he was supposed to be polishing while you frantically searched for the abandoned cloth that you had been using the whole time.

“Why am I not surprised that you haven’t finished cleaning the bathroom?” Professor Snape stated after scanning the area. “It’s almost curfew, so wrap up and continue cleaning tomorrow. I’ll consider your detention done once this place is spotless.”

You stood up and observed as Professor Snape reached into the pocket in his robe and took out your wands. After he handed them over to you and Jay, he turned around without further question and left the bathroom. Jay looked at you, and you sighed in relief, almost collapsing to the floor because of your weak knees, if not for Jay holding you up by your elbows.

“That was too damn close,” you commented, standing uncomfortably since your panties were not fixed the right way.

“I’d say it was exciting,” Jay said, leaning into you and sniffing your neck.

“Jay, stop it,” you said, placing your palm firmly on his chest.

“That’s not what you wanted me to do when I had these stubby fingers inside you,” he teased, raising his hand and wriggling his fingers in front of your face.

You smacked his hand away, and he cackled, almost making the room shake from the echo.

“We still need to come back tomorrow and whose fault is that?” You asked, your back turned to him as you were tidying up the supplies.

“Fault?” Jay tilted his head. “No, favor. You’re missing the point. We get to come back here tomorrow.”

You stood up straight before turning to face Jay. He boldly took a couple of steps towards you, closing the distance and pulling you by your waist to press your body against his.

“Are you honestly telling me you’re not looking forward to it?”

With Jay’s arm firmly around your waist, the heat of his body against yours, his eyes boring into yours, and his silver hair messy from the way you were pulling on it earlier, there was no way you could lie to his face.

“Okay, I am looking forward to it,” you said after gaining enough courage. “Maybe instead of your stubby fingers, you can show me something else.”

Jay’s eyes twinkled at your daring tone, and you both chuckled before letting each other go, nagging at him as he collected your supplies while shamelessly ogling your body.

-END-

© forjongseong 2023, all rights reserved dividers by @cafekitsune

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[lainiespicewrites]

The Christmas Cabin 2-Ice skating

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I genuinely intended to get this posted before Christmas buuuuuuttt I ended up with a horrible toothache ache and that was a whole thing. And it's real hard to feel sexy and write smut when your tooth is screaming at you.. and then the holidays.... ugh ...ANYWAY here is part 2 of the Christmas cabin! Happy New Year Y'all!!!

Warnings: Umm So much smut! Cursing, rough sex, daddy kink, oral. the usual suspects

Per usual I was to excited about posting this so I probably/definitely didn't proofread. so Yes I do own those mistakes. I'm sorry. I'm human okay!

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After a perfectly relaxing night I had some of the best sleep in a long time. In the morning I actually woke up before Sy for once and snuck downstairs to make breakfast. I turned on some soft christmas music in the background and sang to myself in the kitchen while I cooked. Aika made her way downstairs at the smell of bacon. I couldn’t help but laugh when Sy stumbled down the stairs a minute behind her. 

“Like father, like daughter.” I teased. He smiled and came over kissing my shoulder. 

“Smells amazing baby, you didn’t have to cook.” He said. 

“You always do it for me, go relax,” I smiled at him. He walked over and let Aika out the back door. Then he sat at the breakfast bar watching me. I looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“What?” He smirked. 

“Enjoying the show?” I asked. Trying to play coy. 

“Only thing that would make it better is if you were naked.” He winked. I blushed and bit my lip trying to focus on flipping the pancakes. When I finished cooking we sat at the little table. Sy pulled me into his lap again. “I like having you close to me.” He mumbled as he nuzzled his nose against my neck, softly tickling me with his beard. I let out a little whimper trying to hold it together. 

Things had sort of slowed down a bit in that department and I know it was driving him crazy. I had been teasing him a lot lately too. But he was never one to push for anything. He was always respectful of any boundaries, not that I was ever afraid he’d cross any. But it’d been a week or so since we’d been intimate. He was sick with a cold last week so we hadn’t stayed together much and when we settled into bed last night as much as I could tell he was trying nothing happened. It was torture for me too but I liked that I held all the cards. And it made it so much more fun, when we finally did get there. 

“Sy, we’ve got things to do today. Don’t distract me.” I pouted, wiggling a little in his lap. He chuckled, squeezing my hip to hold me still.

“We’re on vacation baby, we ain’t got nothin to do.” I could feel his smirk against my neck as he started to leave a trail of  wet kisses from my shoulder to my ear. He really knew what he was doing. And it almost worked. 

“But Bear,” I turned in his lap so I was straddling him now. His hands went right back to my waist.  I wrapped an arm around his shoulder and the other hand was absentmindedly drawing shapes on his bare chest. “We gotta decorate the tree. And you said something about an ice skating rink, that sounds so fun baby, can we go?” He let out a long sigh and shook his head. I could feel the deep laugh in his chest. 

“You’re killing me Sugar, you know it?” I smiled, still scratching at his chest hair. “Yeah, I’ll take you skating baby girl.” He kissed me softly. 

We finished breakfast and got dressed for the day. I annoyed him some more and put the christmas music on again when I drug the ornaments back out. I started singing again in the living room while I wrapped garland around the tree. I was lost in “o’holy night,” when I felt his arms around me again. 

“Hey handsome,” I smiled. He rocked us back and forth for a moment, laying his head on my shoulder. 

“You never told me you could sing like that baby, I could listen to you all day.” I blushed. 

“It’s nothing, just enjoying the music.” I said. 

“You sound like an angel, sugar, I could listen to christmas music all day if it was coming from you,”  He kissed my cheek.

“You’re so sweet. I guess I didn’t realize you’d never heard me. ” I turned in his arms, pecking him on the lips softly. “We can work on the tree later. I’m really excited to go skating!” He slid his hands down and smacked my ass and I let out a squeal. Logan chuckled. 

“Alright Darlin’, go get in the truck.” 

After a short drive into town we parked outside of a local public park. The ice skating rink wasn’t all that busy today which was great, because I was sure to fall a few times. It’s been years since I've been ice skating. Logan immediately grabbed my hand when I hopped out of the truck. He kept me close the whole time we walked around the park. We finally found the place to rent our skates and settled on a bench outside the rink to put them on.  “Okay, I’ve gotta warn ya, you remember when we were bowling, and you asked what I can’t do? This.. this is what I can’t do.” I tried really hard not to laugh. Because he looked so serious. Really I tried. But I laughed so hard I snorted. He pouted. “You making fun of me baby?” He asked. 

“No, no it’s just,” I took a deep breath trying to calm down. “I didn’t actually expect you to be good at everything Sy. I’m probably not going to be good at this either.” I chuckled. He smiled a little, brushing his thumb across my cheek.

“Such a sweet girl,” he mumbled. “You always find the bright side to everything, don't ya?” I blushed. 

“I’m a high school counselor Sy, it’s my job. At least to try.” I brushed my fingers up and down his big arm a few times. “You’re stalling,” I chuckled. “You can’t be that bad Bear.” His eyes lit up from the nickname. I don’t know when I started using it. But he accepted it without hesitation. I think he honestly liked it. During all of this back and forth I’d managed to get my skates on. “You can’t back out on me now, you promised.” He chuckled.

“To be fair, I promised to take you skating, I didn’t promise I would skate. My balance is horrible.” 

“Yeah all those big muscles make you top heavy,” I winked. “Come on big guy, we’ll get you one of those plastic penguins to hold on to.”  He raised an eyebrow and smirked. Finally putting on the skates.

“You makin fun of me?” he asked.

“Me? Never!” I chuckled.

 I tried really hard. I did. Let the record show. That I attempted not to laugh. We walked out to the ice  on wobbly feet. I had a pretty rough start myself. I had to hold on to the ledge until muscle memory kicked in. I was still a little shaky. But I was able to slowly skate along the edge of the rink. Sy… well, the funniest thing I’ve ever seen is a big, strong, 6’1, rugged, grizzly bear of a man, afraid to fall. 

“I can’t do it,” He shook his head, he had a white knuckled grip on the ledge. 

“You sure as hell can’t do it if you don’t let go, Logan,” I bit my lip to keep the smirk off my face. 

“I’m gonna fall on my ass if I do.” He grumbled. I skated over to him and gently grabbed his arm. He looked panicked. My poor Bear. He was never gonna live this down. 

“Come on baby, you can hold my hand, I got you.” I teased. He rolled his eyes. 

“I hate you,” He he mumbled

“You do not,” I giggled as he grabbed my hand, slowly letting go of the wall. 

“You know if I fall you’re going down with me.” He stated. I pushed off slowly. As tightly as he was holding my hand you’d think I was giving birth. I pulled Sy along with my trying to coach the coach. But it wasn’t going well. 

“It’s a good thing you don’t like hockey.” I snorted when he stumbled again trying to push off from the wall. We almost made it around once.  He leaned in close and growled in a low voice. 

“You’re pushing your luck today little girl.” I bit my lip and smirked. I loved getting him all riled up like this. The thing is. Our relationship is much more than sexual. But in all honesty we can’t get enough of each other. I love pushing his buttons. I know that it sets something off in him. The night after our first date, he was so dominant and in control. And I loved that. I did everything I could to bring that out in him. Sometimes it meant being a brat. He’d never admit it. But he enjoyed that too. 

“Ooh I’m so scared, you can’t even stand up straight without losing your balance cowboy.” I smirked. 

He grabbed the wall with one hand and grabbed my waist with the other spinning me around to face him. I almost lost my balance but I held onto the ledge keeping me upright. He licked his lips looking me over. 

“If I could, I'd bend you over right here for everyone to see, baby girl. You’ve been teasing me for days. You wanna keep pushing it? we won’t make it home before I fill up that pretty little pussy, do I make myself clear?” 

“Crystal,” I let out a deep breath, keeping my eyes on his. Even off his game, he was still so intimidating and intense.

“I’ll give you a headstart back to the truck.” He smirked. Again, I tried. I couldn’t help myself. I started to skate back to the entrance but I stopped and looked back at him. 

“Not like you’d be able to keep up anyway Daddy,”  He stopped and stared at me, raising an eyebrow. 

“Get your ass in the truck, now.” he growled. I bit my lip and nodded. I switched back to my regular boots and returned the skates. Logan was only a few steps behind me when I started to walk out to the truck. I was almost there when I felt grab my hip and spin me around. He backed me up against the passenger door cupping my jaw and tracing my lips with his thumb. “Give me one good reason not to bend you over the seat and take you right here.”  He mused. I pouted and laid my hand on his chest.

“It’s cold Bear,” He chuckled and pressed his body closer to mine, completely pinning me to the truck. He slid his hand down to my neck resting his thumb and fingers on either side squeezing softly.

“You got yourself into this sugar, don’t play innocent now.” He finally leaned in and kissed me roughly, keeping his hand on my neck. I moaned into his mouth, letting him take control. Reaching between us I slid my hand over the growing bulge in his jeans and squeezed teasingly. He moaned, dropping his head to my shoulder. 

“What’s stopping you?” I smirked. He was putty in my hands now.  He kissed my neck softly letting his hands wander over my curves. He stopped suddenly and chuckled to himself. 

“A public indecency charge, get in the truck baby girl, I’ll deal with you at home,  this ain’t over,” he said and gave me one last kiss before he opened the door for me and smacked my ass as I turned to hop up into the truck. 

The whole drive home he had one hand on the wheel and the other on my inner thigh. It was… well, it was never innocent, but it was less intense at first. He just rested it there letting me know he fully intended to keep me in check. It was so hot. I felt hot all over. With just one little touch. It sent sparks through me. That with one touch, one grip, he asserted his dominance. Maybe it was just because I let him. Or maybe it was because he was such a force to be reckoned with that something so simple demanded respect. Eventually, he started to move 

his hand farther up my thigh, massaging it with his fingers and rubbing in slow circles with his thumb. 

All I could think about was feeling those fingers inside me. His thumb pressed against my clit. I let out a pathetic whimper when his hand slid back down my thigh, his thumb brushing over my knee. 

“Something wrong, sugar?” He looked over, that shit eating grin on his face, and caught my eye before looking back to the road. 

“Your teasing,” I pouted. He raised an eyebrow and chuckled. 

“Can dish it out but you can’t take it huh?” He smacked my thigh and smirked “fuckin love that sound.” He groaned and I let out another little whimper.  “Bad girls don’t get treats darlin’ , you know that,” I pouted, laying my hand on top of his and rubbing the back of his hand with my thumb

“I’m sorry, Bear,” I said softly. He hummed turning his hand and tangling our fingers together. He brought my hand to his lips kissing my knuckles.

“Sorry ain’t gonna help you now baby doll, your fate is sealed.” I swallowed hard but I could feel my excitement begin to pool between my legs. When we got back to the cabin Logan barley had the truck in park before he jumped out. I just got my door open when he grabbed me by the hips and wrapped my legs around his waist pulling me out of the truck. 

“Fuck,” I breathed out,  holding onto his shoulders as he carried me inside. He kicked the door closed behind him and walked inside dropping me on the couch.  He pushed his knee between my thighs and leaned down, crashing his lips to mine. I barely had time to catch my breath before he started pulling at my clothes. He made quick work undressing me. Tossing my sweater to the side kissing and sucking  at my chest while he worked on getting my bra out of his way, and then pulling my leggings and panties off in one swift motion. 

“Look at you,” he groaned, pulling away to admire me. I blushed instinctively trying to hide myself still not used to all of his love and attention.  He grabbed my wrists pinning them to the arm of the couch with one hand while the other started to snake up my thigh. “Mm don’t hide darlin, Daddy wants to see his girl.” I bit my lip and nodded.

I kept my eyes on him the whole time. He used his knee to spread my legs wider and caressed the crease in my leg with his thumb. He was so close to where I needed him it was making my head spin. I whined softly grinding against nothing and he chuckled. “You’ve been a real fuckin brat today you know that?” He shook his head and tutted disapprovingly. “What am I gonna do with you?” 

“I said I was sorry,” I pouted. He smiled softly 

“I know you did, baby girl,”  he sat up and pulled off his shirt. He leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to my lips. “And you really meant that huh?” He kissed my body. Stopping to pull my nipple between his teeth and teasing the other with his tongue. My back arched, moaning softly. As I nodded.

“I did, Daddy,”  I breathed as he settled between my legs. He ghosted his thumb over my clit and smirked. He took his time kissing and biting at my inner thighs making sure to mark his territory. I was squirming beneath him dripping on to the couch. I bit my lip holding back a moan as he finally  teased around my clit with his tongue. It took everything in me not to beg. It’s what exactly what he wanted. All at once he sat up on his knees and quickly flipped me on to my stomach pulling me up slightly so I was on my knees and I was on full display for him. 

I heard the slap before I felt the sting. His hand came down hard on my ass. 

“And I said it was too late for sorry baby.” I heard the smack again this time on the other cheek and squealed in surprise not expecting the second blow. “You think its fun to tease and make fun.” He growled in a low voice. He leaned over me his hot breath against my ear. He pressed his bulge against my aching pussy and I grinded against him trying to get some friction. He reached around and grabbed my neck holding me against his chest. “I’ll show you what Daddy can do sugar. And your gonna take it like a good girl. You understand me?” He pressed further into me and I nodded moaning. He grabbed my jaw turning my face to look at him. “Words baby.” 

“Yes, Sir.” He growled deep in his chest and kissed me roughly. 

“Thats my girl,” He groaned as he pulled away. I heard the metal clang of his belt and the sound of it dropping to the floor. He pushed his jeans and boxers down his thighs and immediately lined the head of his cock up with my entrance. He ran his head through the wetness there moaning softly to himself. Then without warning he fully shoved himself inside me. I let out a strangled moan struggling to get used to his size. Sy is in no sense of the word a small man. And as many times as we’ve had sex I still have trouble taking all of him. And with no prep before hand. I could feel him stretching me open for him. 

He moved his hand around my neck to grip my hair making me arch for him. With the other on the back of the couch to steady himself, he started a relentless pace. Slamming into me and making me feel every inch of him. I was a mess underneath him moaning and crying out his name while he pounded into me. He shifted behind me pulling my hips up and thrusted back into me the new angle hitting my spot repeatedly. “Fuck Sy please,” I begged. I didn’t care anymore all I wanted was for him to make me cum for him. I need the release. I could feel it building quickly. The knot forming in my stomach. Despite his reckless pounding I knew he was still only getting started. Letting out soft little groans every time he sunk into me. 

“You wanna cum baby?” He smirked, releasing his grip on my hair and delivering another sharp smack on my ass. I moaned loudly and nodded. 

“Please, it feels so good!” I whined. Tears stinging my eyes now trying to wait for his permission. 

“Brats don’t get treats Sugar,” He chuckled. He slowed his thrusts and pulled out of me completely. I whined, looking back at him pleadingly. He stood up and picked me up off the couch,  I wrapped my legs around his waist and he pinned my back to the wall. He teased my entrance with his cock slowy pushing in again. I held onto him as he started to fuck me against the wall. I kissed him roughly moaning into his mouth as he picked up his pace again. 

“I’m so sorry Bear,” I moaned starting to feel the fire build in my stomach again. God this is what I loved and hated about him. He was so fucking stubborn and incredibly thorough. He wasn’t gonna give this up. “I-I shouldn’t have teased you.” I stuttered trying to stay coherent. He smirked kissing my neck and grabbing my hips helping me meet his thrusts. 

“Mhmm,” He groaned into my neck, “What else baby?” he teased. God I didn’t know if I could last I could already feel my legs shaking. I knew he could to. 

“I won’t do it again. I-I promise, I love you baby, just please please let me cum.” I don’t know if I was making sense anymore. I would do anything for him at this point. He reached one hand between us rubbing my clit with his thumb and I screamed out his name letting my head hit the wall. 

“That’s my good girl. I love hearing your desprate little moans. Cum for Daddy baby.” He kept his thumb on my clit while I barried my head into his neck moaning his name and letting my walls clamp around him. My whole body spasming while he holds me up. I let out a deep breath and he chuckled kissing me softly when I raised my head from his shoulder. He walked back to the couch and sat with me in his lap straddling him. Still fully hard inside me. He had incredible stamina but I knew he was desprate now too. I felt him twitch inside me begging for release. I braced myself on the back of the couch and started bouncing in his lap it wasn’t long before he was cursing under his breath. And grabbing my hips trying to take control again. 

“Such a good girl, you look so good riding me.” he groaned smacking my ass as I countineud to ride his cock. I could feel another orgasm building. The thought of him filling me up making me feral. I moaned chasing my orgasm. I let him guide me on his cock as he started to get close himself. “Gonna fill this pussy up baby. Wanna see you dripping with my cum.” He moaned. Kissing me roughly and thrusting up into me he let out deep growl as he released inside me I continued to ride him as I reached my own high. 

I collapsed against him in his lap. Laying my head on his shoulder as he wrapped his big arms around me holding me against his chest. After resting for a few minutes I broke the silence preparing soft kisses on his neck. 

“Thank you for taking me ice skating baby,” I giggled. “Even though you hated it.” I felt him let out a deep chuckle from his chest. 

“Any time baby girl. You know I’d do anything for ya, even if I suck at it.” He smirked. I snorted. 

“You really almost had it bear.” I teased. He raised an eyebrow a mischievous look in his eye. 

“You tryna go for another punishment?” He asked. I bit my lip. 

“I don’t know if I could handle anymore.” I blushed. 

“We’ll see about that,” He smiled and kissed me passionately.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list

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[the-widow-sisters]

No One's Favorite

Summary: An introspective look at Natasha's relationships with family over the years and that she is truly only one person's first priority.

Word Count: 2.6k+

A/N: Wowza, it's been so long since I've written widow sisters stuff 😂 Hopefully I haven't lost my touch 😅

It feels good to finally post this one. I've had this in the drafts for a while, but I just didn't fully finish writing it until today 💖 I got inspired to write by @chargedlion's fic that was posted today 😂

I hope y'all enjoyed! Positive comments mean the world to me! 💗💗💗

   Natasha Romanoff was no one’s first priority.

   She never was, and she never had been.

   At least not except for when she had been succeeding in the Red Room training. But even then, it had been a passing moment of sweet respite in a barren landscape characterized by bitter unappreciation and frigidity.

   However, all of that had abruptly changed when Yelena had come stumbling into her life on chubby baby legs, adorable curls bouncing behind her.

   Natasha had not wanted to love her from the start. She had wanted to remain cold. To remain every bit of the fledgling young widow that she was intended to be and that she had trained relentlessly to be almost since her birth.

   Eight-year-old Natasha had not been one for love. She had never known what love felt like. Love had not been something that was achievable because it had never been something she could see right before her.

   Victory had been attainable and concrete. It had been something she could see in the blood of other young girls. In the gnashing of their teeth and the bruises on their skin as they crawled away to lick their wounds.

   However, she had never felt very victorious in those moments despite the sensation’s very real tangibility in the faces of her opponents.

   With Yelena, she had to find a new way to live. A new way to function. She had to be softer and the very thought of it had terrified her.

   The only thing that had pushed her to be that softer person that so deeply and inherently defied all that she had been taught was the fact that she was Yelena’s favorite.

   For the first time in her entire eight years of young life, she had been wanted. Truly wanted. And she had been someone’s favorite on top of all of that. She had been valued and loved of all things, and that had been something that she was simultaneously horribly terrified of and desperately starving for all the same.

   They had ended up living three heavenly years together. Yelena had received an endlessly loyal protector, and in exchange, Natasha had received all the affection, love, and devotion that she had craved all of her young life.

   Yelena had truly been her baby sister as far as she was concerned. She would take no other answers. If someone loved her this much and saw her as this great of a person, this someone was undoubtedly nothing less than a sister and true family.

   But then the three years were up, and Natasha had been flung back into the harsh, cold reality of her life.

   She had been— once again— nobody’s first priority.

   At least… To no one except for Dreykov.

   But being this sort of first priority had not been the kind that Natasha wanted. It had been harsh and unforgiving in its own manner.

   Victory had been tangible, but she soon had found a new sensation that was just as easily seen in its concreteness— it was submission. This one had been too tangible.

   It had been seen in the visits to Dreykov’s office after she had been called upon. In the knotting of her stomach and in the sense of disgust and humiliation she had felt after the visits.

   She had been someone’s first priority again, but it had not been right. It had not been the type of first priority that left her chest warm and her heart full, and honestly, if it did not give her that sort of feeling, she did not want it.

   And then, her time of being the favorite had come to pay off in the ultimate ceremony. It had been made out to be a reward. The ability to become the perfect agent in every manner. The ability to perform every aspect of her duties without any consequences.

   She had been stripped of her free choice, and more than that, she had been stripped of the chance to perhaps one day bring another little one in the world of her own.

   Once it was done, she had reassured herself with empty platitudes that she would not have been a good mother anyway. The Red Room simply would have taken her child, perpetuating her potential daughter into the same system as she had been in or taking her potential son and throwing him to the wolf packs of politicians searching for fresh meat.

   She had known that her latter reason would have likely been true, but the first part had been something that she could not exactly help but question, knowing the argument was weak in itself.

   But several years passed, and Natasha had found her opportunity to escape the cycle of submission.

   She had met Clint Barton and while she had been no one’s first priority in that situation for that moment at least, she had appreciated it for once.

   She had realized that it was safer to not be a first priority.

   It meant that there were no groping hands. It meant that there were no funerals disguised as ceremonies. It meant that there was no heartbreak. No attachment. No hearts on the line. Nothing.

   But then she had joined SHIELD and she had found herself partnering with Barton.

   And then she had become a first priority again. At least in the field.

   But she could handle that. It had been like being assigned with other widows. It was not uncommon to be unified in terms of being a team and having each other’s backs. That is, if the other widow was of high value in Dreykov’s eyes. He sometimes sent younger, less experienced widows with Natasha on missions, and she was specifically assigned not to interfere if unfortunate events transpired.

   So she and Clint had become a team and he was a high value partner, so she did her best to keep him alive. She had his back and he had hers, and it was a strangely well-matched partnership despite the fact that she knew as well as him that she was the most skilled.

   However, when it turned into something pertaining to actual value in their lives outside of simply just the fighting portions of missions…

   It had scared her. She had been terrified at first that he would try something with her.

   After all, Natasha had well-learned the ways of men. They were kind and gentle and sweet and full of compliments until they wanted something. Then they took and took with all of the roughness of bear claws attacking and ripping at the skin while she was expected to simply submit. Or even encourage it despite the sickness in the pit of her stomach and the numbness of her mind.

   The first time he had placed his hand on her shoulder, congratulating her, she had instantly stiffened, terrified that it was going to lead to something far less innocent. He had been confused and he had looked at her with such a genuine horror when she had hinted at the idea that she was taken aback at his reaction.

   It was at that point that she felt that maybe not all men were horrid human beings. She eventually even grew to trust him in a way that transcended merely missions. They began to talk more frequently about things that were not just related to work.

   For the first time since Yelena, she felt that maybe she was becoming a first priority in a way that maybe was not altogether horrifying. Natasha grew to enjoy his teasing, his kind smiles, and his occasional touches to her shoulders or upper back. He was kind to her, and while she was not used to it, she grew to love it all the same.

   But then she found out he had a family, and something within her was a bit hurt at the knowledge, despite the fact that she had never wanted any sort of romantic relationship with him or anything of the sort. She had merely thought that it was only them and that they were the only important people in each other’s respective worlds.

   When he had invited her to come to his home, she had been hesitant, but she was quick to agree despite her reservations. She did not want him to forsake her because she would not do this for him. They had grown close, and Clint was one of the only people in her world outside of Nick Fury. But Fury and her had a strange relationship.

   The day finally arrived that she came to meet his lovely wife and amazing kids. Laura was very kind to her, but of course, Natasha would have expected nothing less. She was married to the only fully trustworthy man that Natasha had ever known, so she naturally must have been a wonderful, deserving woman.

   But where Natasha’s heart truly softened was with Young Cooper and little Lila.

   She had started off somewhat afraid of them. She had not been around children— or at least innocent children like these— since Yelena. However, her reservations had quickly melted away with the first time that Lila had crawled over to her, looked up at her in such a way that reminded her so closely of Yelena, and had grabbed her leg where she was sitting on the couch. She had picked her up, and when the baby touched her cheeks softly, all of her walls crashed to the ground.

   It was with them that she realized she was capable of true softness and at least some semblance of humanity. She let them do whatever they wanted with her, her heart almost instantly falling into their small hands. Lila would play with makeup and fix her face, and she would go rock and flower-collecting with Cooper. She never argued with them or protested against their many frivolous whims, and Clint actually even had to try to convince her to actually put her foot down when it was something that Natasha did not want to do.

   But she wanted to do everything with them.

   Natasha could easily see that she was not first priority with anyone there, but Clint did not make her feel any less important despite the fact that she knew her boundaries. Clint had allowed her this piece of his world, and she was honestly thankful to have any shred she could get. It was something that made her feel almost like she did when she had her first “family.”

   As time went on, the Avengers eventually assembled, and it was with them that she had a work family. It was not perfect, and it was truthfully oftentimes a disaster, but she still loved them. It was another piece that she was trying to rely on to put together the puzzle of her broken heart. Despite teasing them often, she loved the boys. She would help anywhere she could, and she was always around at the tower when she was not on missions for Fury. She did all that she could to keep them together and keep them happy.

   But Natasha was not a first priority. Oftentimes, she was not even a second one with the Avengers. So when she fought to keep them together, they fell apart anyway.

   That was one of the lowest moments in her life.

   She was alone and on the run. She was an enemy of the United States and isolated from all the people she cared about. She had nothing and no one except for professional contacts.

   But that was when she received her package, several photos being the clue to precisely who was contacting her. It was then that she ran into Yelena again for the first time since they were pulled apart as children so many years ago.

   When Natasha had first seen Yelena on the other end of her handgun, she had felt like her heart might stop. Even though the years had hardened her into a murderous, fully-grown lethal weapon, Yelena had still grown into a gorgeous young woman. In fact, one of Natasha’s first thoughts had been that Yelena had never quite managed to grow out of those chubby cheeks.

   However, after all of the pain and all of the long-suffering she had endured over the past several years, she was scared to allow herself attachment to Yelena. Yelena was crass yet honest, and it was clear that she was angry with Natasha. Yelena was also attached to her even still. The anger was only a further indicator of that attachment.

   But it was easier for Natasha to put that thought away into a far, dusty corner of her mind so that she did not have to put a great deal of consideration into it. Natasha was angry enough with herself as it was. She was angry that she had not been able to do anything and that she had somehow managed to allow the woman that was once her sister to keep being abused by the organization that Natasha thought she had destroyed.

   However, it was much easier to be irritable in general and with Yelena than it was to stop and consider Yelena’s attachment to her despite all of Natasha’s failings. Natasha stopped to sufficiently hate herself at night, trying with everything she had to avoid chaining herself to the bed as she silently cried over everything that had happened to her and how alone she felt.

   The worst part about the entire thing was that she wanted Yelena to love her. To keep that attachment. Despite the fact that Natasha hated herself and felt that Yelena should hate her as well, she was still so selfish that she could not push Yelena away to make her hate her.

   It was best for Yelena to hate her, after all.

   Natasha was beginning to come to the conclusion that she was not loveable. Everyone she had forsook her or never took her as a first priority. She was never going to have someone that saw her as their most important person.

   But it was when Yelena selflessly sacrificed herself to kill Dreykov that Natasha realized she could not do it. She did not have it in her to make Yelena hate her or to push her away any longer. Something in her broke as she leapt after Yelena, freefalling, with the only thought in her mind being that she had to save her baby sister. She could not let her die.

   After fighting Antonia, Natasha had been so scared when she saw Yelena lying on the ground, the parachute having brought her down safely but Yelena still somehow being unconscious.

   And when those beautiful honey-green eyes opened to meet her own light greens, she broke down and told her what she should have said as soon as she saw her. Natasha dropped her guard and gave into the hurt, the need, and the love in her heart as she confessed the truth and her broken apology.

   Yelena had looked at her with such astonishment, such raw honesty, such pain, and such adoration that Natasha did not even know how to respond. She just looked at her, and when Yelena brought her forehead to her own, clambering into her as she initiated the best hug of Natasha’s life, Natasha grabbed on tight with no desire to ever let go.

   Yelena had whispered a soft thank you in her ear, but Natasha knew that she should be the one thanking Yelena.

   She finally had her person in her arms. And Natasha Romanoff was Yelena Belova’s first priority.

   She always was and she always would be.

[adarkrainbow]

Are there fairy tales and folk tales with real queer subtext?

I always hear about the existence of fairy tales with queer subtext. I even posted a tale with a subtle lesbian subtext some years ago.

But it was one of the few I could find. This and the one with the transgender Prince Charming.

Are there more of them?

Well there are a lot of those stories around but it is hard to exactly locate and pinpoint them precisely because of how scattered they are and how usually subtle it all is. With mythology and legends of the sort you have much better chance.

Though when it comes to traditional fairytales, the ones we do have are not very queer-coded. Cinderella isn't. Snow-White isn't. Sleeping Beauty isn't. Little Red Riding Hood DEFINITIVELY is about hetero predation with nothing in it.

I did find a quite fascinating article about the lesbian reading of "Frau Trude" by the brothers Grimm! It was contained in an interesting book called "Transgressive tales: Queering the Grimm". I did think the analysis went a bit further than what it should have and some elements were really pulled by the hair, but that's very typical of a lot of scholarly analysis. I remember during my research for writing my memoir, I stumbled across a psycho-sexual analysis of "Cunning Cinders" by madame d'Aulnoy, which wanted us to believe that the oven in which the ogre was pushed was a vaginal symbol and thus the heroine killed the monster... by sex? WTF. That's clearly NOT the meaning intended.

Honestly for this kind of research, go and try to read books precisely about the analysis of queer elements or subtext in fairytales. There is a LOT of those analysis coming around and a lot of books to choose from - try to see if you can reach or access any.

The problem is that the queer elements in the "serious" or "well known" fairytales, in the European sense, are very much missing precisely due to their "classic" nature which meant if there were any, they probably ended up removed, but there probably wasn't any in the first place, else they wouldn't have become classic. It is insitutional, cultural, historical homophobia, but we're not going to remake the world and it is as it is: if you want real "queer fairytales" you have to dig up in the obscure, overseen, forgotten corners of folklore study. I made a post a long time ago about the whole case of "The Sailor and the Dog", have you seen it? Else I should sent it back to you.

There is definitively much, much more queer subtext in literary fairytales precisely due to their artificial nature and how the authors put their personal experiences in it - and it doesn't help a lot of fairytale authors were queers themselves, from the 18th century France authors nobody remembers to Andersen. In general the literary fairytales (at least those of the 17th/18th century France) LOVED to play around with deviant sexuality and erotic subtone and "perversions" of all kinds. After all, Donkey Skin is about an incestuous father! Beauty and the Beast also always was a way for people to play around with zoophilia subtexts (though today it'd just be called "furries" I guess). There is one humoristic fairytale by Catherine Bernard called "The Prince Rose-Bush", about a prince turned into a rose-tree. And the many instances of the princess being caught or hurt by his thorns, crying over his petals while hugging the plant, having her dress torn by the branches... They all clearly were meant to have a little *wink wink* at the reader. You will DEFINITIVELY find more queer subtext in fairytales that involve crossdressing as a plot device - I know French authors LOVED the idea of crossdressing for their plots (usually a woman disguised as a man) and all the romantic confusions it caused, and so you always find in there a lot of queer elements.

Though all of this stayed very VERY subtle throughout the decades, and in France we would have to wait until the second half of the 18th century when the subgenre of "bawdy fairytales" popped up and suddenly everybody was writing stories even more explicit than Basile's Pentamerone or Straparole's Facetious Nights, about men being cursed at having their penis turned into a soup-spoon or a lover being turned into a couch over which his mistress slept, and other weird stuff like that.

Which brings me to another element: the same way queer elements are going to be very hidden, subtle in commonplace and famous stories, go look for the tales of explicitely sexual nature. The dirty tales, bawdy tales, grotesque tales - they are literaly everywhere, they always existed not just in literature but also in folklore since as early as time. And precisely due to being places where everything dirty and grotesque and sexual and gory exploded - that's where you find most easily the queer presence, since everybody always loved to have "sodomy comedy" at every era.

It is not a "fairytale per se" but it is still tied to it all: Le Roman de Renart, Reynard the Fox as the English call him. His adventures and ensemble of texts is not fairytale - it is rather a different sub-genre of medieval literature and folklore... But it did seep and influence the fairytale genre heavily because more than half of the "animal tales" or "fairytales about talking animals" in those fairytale anthologies and collections are actually derived from the Fox's adventures. (You will find in almost every European country, in fairytale collections, a simplified version of Reynard tricking Isengrim in losing his tail to a frozen pond or eating too much so he can't leave the building he just entered in). And Reynard the Fox was a bisexual icon. Well... as much as a rapist, murder, scammer, thief, pathological liar, sociopath-psychopath and necromancer at times can be a bisexual icon.

Because among the many sex jokes and sexual farces of the Roman, there are several tales of Reynard sodomizing as much women as men. Most notably there was one episode of the Fox and the Hare which revolves around gay sex as a joke.

Yes, it's crude, it's dirty, it's dark and rude and there's absolutely no romance whatsoever... But it is another fact of European literature (because again, I speak for Europe here mostly): gay romance is rare, but gay sex abound ; serious queer themes are hidden and erased, but grotesque queer farces did survive to this day. It is just an old phenomenon: whenever something is morally reprehensible or disapproved by a society, it will survive in culture mostly through the comedies and what we would call today "shock value" content. A la Roman de Renart.

[rocksandmirrors]

this is something i wrote a couple weeks ago based on the second art of this post i've made, but i didn't feel like posting it on ao3. hope you enjoy!! the wonderful @sapphic--kiwi inspired me to write this, make sure to check out her blog as well <3 she's a very talented artist and writer

also watch out for body issues and internalized fatphobia

Matt couldn’t stand to see his reflection anymore.

He should have seen it coming, though; with all the work he had been doing for the last years, and being able to eat his fill every day, it was obvious he would gain weight. Yet, now that he stared at himself in the mirror, all he could see was the extra pounds that didn’t have to be there. He knew this was silly, but an immature part of him hoped he could have looked like these constructionist witches in the shows he watched, attractive and shaped like a V.

Grimacing, he pinched a bulge on his stomach and let out a groan. He hated looking like this, especially when he was so skinny just a couple years ago. Maybe he could skip breakfast, just for today. He wasn’t that hungry anyway.

Shaking his head to try and think about something else, Matt reached out to the cabinet above the sink until he saw Augustus’ reflection in the mirror, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. He froze as they locked eyes, and he prayed he hadn’t seen too much of him wallowing in his misery.

“Hey,” he mumbled, finally opening the cabinet to grab his hairbrush. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Nah.” Matt heard footsteps behind him, and a few seconds later, felt a pair of arms around his waist, as well Augustus’ warmth against his back, and his chin on his shoulder. “You’re up earlier than usual.”

“Eh, I just woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. Figured I could get prepared for work, at least.”

Augustus’ hands wandered around his stomach and hips- areas of his body that he hated more than anything- and he repressed the urge to push them away. Instead, he started brushing his hair, slowly, untying all the knots one by one. He had two hours left before leaving, might as well take his time.

“Matty, are you okay?” he asked, slumber still staining his voice.

“M’yeah. Sort of.” When he met Augustus’ eyes again through the mirror, he sighed. “No, not really.”

“I know. I saw you.”

Yeah, he figured as much. His fiance had that talent for always being at the wrong place, at the wrong time. He put his hairbrush down next to the sink, still staring at their reflections.

“Of course you saw me. There’s nothing else to see about me but… this,” he added, disgust dripping in his tone.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“Like what? Like I became fucking ugly? Someone here has to, because you sure as hell aren’t doing it.”

Matt was getting worked up over pretty much nothing and arguing with a brick wall; he knew that, yet couldn’t help it. Just thinking about the way his body had changed over the last years made him feel miserable and fall back into his old self-deprecating ways, aggressive towards someone who didn’t ask for it.

“You’re not ugly,” Augustus argued, leaving a peck on his jaw. “You’ve never been.”

“Augustus, you don’t need to rub me up the right way. I know I’ve changed, I mean- you’ve seen me at seventeen, look at me now! I was in much better shape back then!”

“Were you?”

“Do you really need me to make an illusion of my old self to compare?” He asked, arching an eyebrow.

Augustus shook his head, his hands still rubbing the parts of his body he hated the most. Matt just wanted this conversation to end, to go on about his day and shove that brief moment of vulnerability into a corner of his mind so he could forget about it. As much as he hated his current appearance, he never intended for his lover to listen to him vent about his body issues first thing in the morning.

“Matt, you had nothing to eat as a teen, of course you were skinnier. Hell, I’ve seen you digging through trash at school just to have lunch.”

“Yeah, but-”

“You’ve grown up. You’re doing a lot more physical work, and like it or not, you can’t keep your teen body all your life.” One of Augustus’ hands moved up to his torso. “If you really want to lose weight someday, I’ll support you, but I want you to know I also love how you look right now, because you’re just as healthy and handsome. Frankly, I’m happy to see you like this.”

Matt’s breath got stuck in his throat, and his eyes widened at these words. He knew Augustus tended to be clingier than usual whenever he lacked some sleep, but he still needed to get used to all the praise that came with it.

“I don’t really see it,” he admitted with a shrug.

“That’s okay. I don’t expect you to get over this right away.” The younger witch left another kiss, this time at the nape of his neck, and a shiver ran down his spine. “But trust me, if you could see yourself the way I see you, you’d marry yourself in a heartbeat.”

Matt could feel- and see- all the blood rushing to his face, and suddenly, the warm hands wandering on his body didn’t bother him as much- they felt loving, tender, worshiping every part of the body he still struggled to accept as it was. He leaned into Augustus, still standing behind him, and the arms around him wrapped themselves tighter.

“Are you feeling any better?” He asked.

“I… Yeah, actually. Thanks, babe.”

“No problem.” Augustus left one last peck on the shell of his ear before stepping back, and Matt immediately missed his warmth. “Since we’re both awake, I’m gonna make some coffee. Do you want some?”

“You know it.” Matt turned around to face him, offering him a tired smile. “Let me make you breakfast, yeah?”

“Don't worry, I’m not touching any pans in this kitchen,” he yawned as he left the bathroom.

Matt watched his fiance walk away, then turned back to his reflection. Half of his hair had been brushed, the bags under his eyes were a little more prominent than usual, contrasting with his crimson face, and his shirt was a little crinkled from where Augustus had been touching him. He pinched a bulge on his stomach again, poking at the fat here and there with a faint smile.

Maybe he could indulge in breakfast today.

[shadecrux]

Bad Day (Bucky Barnes x Reader -drabble)

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°•★Pairing: Bucky Barnes / Reader °•★Rating: SFW

°•★Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Established Romantic Relationship, Pet Names, Doll, But Otherwise Gender Neutral Reader °•★ Words: 669 (nice!) °•★ Notes: Hey all, so this is the first fic I’ve ever published on tumblr, pls be nice!  I finished up my own bad day today and sort of, ended up writing this drabble as a way to get out those feelings.  This is the first time I’ve written as Bucky, so I hope I’ve done him justice!!  Despite the use of pet names I tried to leave out physical descriptions of the reader as much as possible so anyone can envision themselves in that role.  If anyone has any notes for how to do it better I am definitely open to that!   ~All writing unless otherwise noted is my own. Please do not post or reupload my work to other websites without my express consent. I do not consent for my fics to be used in AI creations. I do not own any of the characters featured in my works unless they are stated to be OCs.~ All of my fanworks are intended for adults aged 18 and up only! Minors please DNI. ----------------˚ * •̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ˚＊------💜 💚 💜------＊* •̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙ * ˚----------------

You were curled up on the couch when he got home, eyes glistening with tears too stubborn to fall, hugging your knees to your chest. It had just been such a bad day. It seemed as though nothing was going right, and by the end of it, everything hurt.  

Bucky walked through the door and saw you, immediately dropping the bags he had been holding and rushing over to sit beside you and pull you into his arms.

  "What happened doll, what's wrong?

"You shake your head, turning your body to curl against him, burying your face in his shoulder.

  "Can't..."

"Hey, hey it's okay. You don't need'ta talk about it right now if it's too much ok? Just hang on to me, I've got you."

You nod and wrap your arms around him, sliding yourself closer to him until you're halfway in his lap. Bucky simply hums and squeezes you more tightly, his arms around you strong and steady and solid, an anchor to hold you there with him. 

 Finally, finally, the tears come, and your body is wracked with sobs as he soothes you, gently stroking your hair, and pressing his lips to the crown of your head. 

"Shh, shh... it's alright. That's it... let it out." He whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

 He didn't really speak, just murmured soft, soothing sounds into your ear, rocking with you on the couch until tears stained his shirt , until you began to still against his and he could feel the tension draining out of your shoulders. His hands gently slid up and down your back, kneading your muscles, grounding you until he finally heard you sigh, and you lifted your head to look at him.

 Seeing the large wet patch on his shirt your face twisted into a frown, and you look up at him apologetically. 

 "Bucky, I'm so sorry, your shirt..."

"Don't you worry about that sweetheart. It's just a little wet."

He reached up to cup your cheek in his hand, lifting your chin slightly until you were looking at him, his bright blue eyes piercing as they gazed into yours. 

 "How are you feeling now?"

"A little better..." 

"Well, that's a start." he leaned forward to press his forehead against yours, pausing a moment before his voice took on a lighter, more teasing tone.  "But I'm not exactly satisfied with that answer. I think we're gonna need to do a little bit better." 

"Oh really?" you asked, the barest hint of a grin tugging at your lips.

 "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, for starters..."His breath fanned your face as he tilted his head, kissing you sweetly, his lips impossibly soft as they connected with yours. Bucky kissed you slowly, hand gently cupping the base of your neck, holding without forcing. Your lips moved against his, and by the time you pulled back for air you were dizzy and lightheaded, and what's more... you were smiling.

 "How about now?" he asked with a lazy grin and just a hint of smugness in his voice.  

"Definitely better." You laughed.  

"And how about after a bath, dinner, and a movie? I'll cook tonight." He gently nudged his head against yours.

 "Right now? That sounds like a perfect night." You replied, and he didn't waste another moment, scooping you up into his arms and standing to carry you through the apartment toward the bath. 

 There would be plenty of time later to talk about the things that had gone wrong if you wanted to. For now, Bucky's only concern was making sure you were okay - he would take care of you, and give you the space to relax and recover

. By the end of the night, the two of you would be cuddled up on the couch, doubled over with laughter at some dumb movie, the hurts of the day slowly fading into the past.

 By the end of the night, when you were laying down beside him to sleep, you would still be smiling. 

[starlightkun]

sorry if you've gotten this ask before aljrksjd

you don't have to answer this, but I just wanted to know how you write longform fics or just long pieces in general. it's one of the things I've struggled with as a writer, and I'm having a hard time trying to figure out how I could go about it or do it.

I'd be so grateful if you could provide some advice or suggestions 🥹🥹

i want u to know that i saw this ask when u sent it, but i had a 5hr drive today and wanted to make sure i had time to answer this!! it's under the cut bc i yapped a bit <33

so one thing that i feel the need to say up top is that i never go into pieces with a "goal" length/word count (often times my fics end up being longer than i expected/intended). because i never really write with the goal of a specific length in mind, these are things that i think have helped me write more cohesive and narratively fulfilling pieces in general, which tends to make my fics longer

my first thing is planning/outlining!! i used to just write my fics start to finish in one go with little to no planning, and since i've started slowing down and taking my time outlining/planning beforehand (and even during the drafting process i continue adding to my outline), i've seen the average lengths of my fics go up a lot. you don't have to have every single scene, moment, and piece of dialogue planned out before start writing (lord knows i never do), but you should have a pretty good idea of the major story beats, character dynamics, and any important conflicts, and make sure it's written down in a way that's easy for you to refer back to while you write. never think you're gonna keep it all in your head

build out your characters' lives!! i love introducing a good b-plot involving the main character's friends (see: strawberry sunday) that doesn't take too much attention away from the main plot that it seems out of place, but instead complements the main plot and allows there to be space in between those major plot beats for the readers and the characters to breathe. it also helps make your characters feel more well-rounded and real to the readers if you throw in a scene of their daily life at school or work or with their friends/family both to add texture to them but also to your world. it can also be good to use an establishing scene towards the beginning of their daily life, then a similar one towards to the end that shows any character development, or some other impactful change that happened during your story. instead of just telling us that everything in your character's life changed, show us how it did (or didn't! or maybe it only changed a little, but the little change was important, too)

in a similar vein, build out your world!! im not saying to spend ten pages describing an intricate magic system to us that has little bearing on the plot itself, but feel free to weave in extra details about where/when we are and how the characters interact (or dont!) with the world around them (even if its our normal old world in the modern day)

and i mean i guess my last thing that's really helped me is just sort of getting out my head when it comes to writing? like, not forcing myself to write everyday, not having any sort of word count goals, no posting schedule, etc. just letting myself sit with my ideas for a while and really play around and have fun with them. it's made writing fic something that i look forward to doing when i come from work, or when the weekend is approaching, and i genuinely am making probably my favorite things that i've ever made right now. and they happen to be pretty long!!

i've talked some more about my writing process in some other asks (x, x, x, x, x, x) and i have a writing tag where i post about more general writing stuff if you want to hear me yap some more

[inkblackorchid]

I just found your blog today and thank you for putting to words some weird feelings I had towards 5ds’s direction after the dark signers arc. I never got to actually watch the post dark signer arc stuff until adulthood, but it feels almost like the writing team decided they wanted to work on basically a different show altogether and were just kind of stuck with 5ds and its cast.

You're very welcome! I was talking about this with someone just a few days ago, and yeah, absolutely. The thing about everything post DS is that regardless of what camp you're in—whether you love, hate, or just feel kinda meh about the WRGP and everything surrounding it—I think we can all agree that it feels very different from the Fortune Cup and DS arc. The 5Ds cast is, at least in my opinion, extremely solid, but with how everyone's set up in the first half of the show, the second half almost feels a bit like the writers put their own characters in an AU of sorts. The cast is still the same, but you can feel the difference. To this day, I'd pay a good amount of money to know what sort of decisions led to that change tbh. I've seen it suggested that they shifted gears because 5Ds' ratings weren't good and they were hoping to course-correct in order to cater more to their intended target audience, but while I do find that believable, I wouldn't want to spread it as gospel seeing as I have no source. And with how many issues the 5Ds fandom has already had with rumours in the past, I really wouldn't want to contribute to that. So many secrets left in that show's writers' room...

The sad thing is, I don't think making the second half of the show work better with the already established cast than it did would have been impossible—far from it. This is why I like to suggest rewrites in my theory posts and why basically all my fics are (mostly) canon-compliant add-ons that flesh certain characters out (and notably take place during the pre-WRGP and beyond), after all. But for some reason, everything WRGP-adjacent ended up being a bit rough in canon. Who knows, maybe someone will uncover an obscure interview that gives us the reason some day.

[phoenixtakaramono]

Kittens, I’ll be honest, I am getting a wee annoyed at the one remaining shadowban on my Twitter acc persisting. *stares mournfully* I just wanna post art on both of my socials and/or perform experiments to see if I can continue freely updating my little spontaneous drabbles threadfics. 😑

On the flip side, it’s been a nice one week social media break from Twitter lol. Then the shadowban got reinstated when I tweeted a pic of being freed from the Shadow Realm, which is very ironic and hilarious in hindsight. So if you saw that pic and then noticed me immediately ceasing all activity ever since, this is why.

Presumably after a couple more days or 1 week of inactivity (hopefully this doesn’t last 1 year), it should be all green again. I’ll probably wait a couple more days to 1 week more max before tweeting anything.

In the meanwhile, current plans for my stories after I come back from my writing break:

Truce ch3 will be next to be updated. The temptation is really strong to wait till S4 of The Boys airs because there’s a small part of me that’s afraid of conflicting what’ll undoubtedly be presented differently in canon, but I’ve been pacifying the urge by watching Gen V with the Boyscord boys. If you notice, there’ve already been mentions of Sister Sage, Firecracker, and even Tek Knight (*coughs* TK is more subtle because he’s only been indirectly foreshadowed via SwingWing in ch2 for ch3 and not outrightly mentioned unlike SS and F) in Truce. And watching Gen V, thankfully, has given me good ammo with the characterization of TK at least and given me food for thought with the Supe virus that’d been in the late Dr. Edison Cardosa’s possession now being in Victoria Neuman’s possession (*coughs* I can see the future bioweapon potential, especially if/when Billy gets his hands on it and he’s gone off the deep end).

I will do my best to keep Truce contained to 4 chapters only. *knocks on wood 3x* I did mention it’s essentially 12 chapters being condensed into 3, which then became 4 because I’d ultimately decided for chapter 2 to be split into two parts (ch2 and ch3). But at the end of the day, this was always intended to be a PWP and as a sort of gateway fic for people to be more interested in The Boys (TV) and spreading interest of this small enemies-to-lovers rarepair I’ve come to just adore. Somehow the self-indulgent fic where I’m just writing shameless old men p*rn became what it is today, haha, but I’m the type of writer who prioritizes “plot” and “character study” and worldbuilding so in retrospect it’s very on brand for me to write p*rn with some serviceable plot, haha.

After ch 3 is updated, unless I desperately need to take a break and jump to another fandom for a bit (*coughs* SVSSS), ch4 should be next to be worked on. This is also if I’m not hit by the strong urge to work on TNotG ch2. So what’ll come next after updating ch3 will be dependent on burnout and what strikes my writer’s whim.

But after ch4 is published and, hence, having finally completed the Truce saga (there will be a future Wedding oneshot I’ll write that takes place post-Truce universe and after a timeskip of events that won’t be covered in Truce because otherwise it’d be turned into a full on 20+ chapters, but that oneshot follow-up will be written sometime later), unless I’m heavily feeling TNotG (which is a real high possibility), what’ll be next to be updated is my Bingyuan magnum opus: The Untold Tale.

I’d written a little April Fools 2023 threadfic for TUT ch6 so if you’ve read it, you know what to expect. We’re bringing in Shen Yuan’s divine family. If there’s one thing I personally don’t like in my own writings, it’s having OCs in my stories unless it’s strictly necessary—so to strike a happy medium I’m bringing in technically canon characters (his parents, two older brothers, and little sister) but turned into PIDW fictional versions of “Shen Yuan’s” family, so technically this is my personal go-around to trick my own brain to not see them as OCs. There’ll also be a scene involving Bing gē. All and all, TUT ch6 is more of a transition and set-up chapter for the more exciting ch7, where we will get to see the transmigrated royal Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky for the first time. And I will have an illustration of him and potentially Mobei jūn. But before we can get to the exciting chapter, ch6 has to exist first, haha. But I hope when I return—jfc, I see 1.5K of you have bookmarked this fic 😳 I am honored but also a little nervous, haha—that you’ll still love the story. <3 Having been in The Boys fandom for awhile with its modern lingo, I hope you don’t mind if I take the time reimmersing myself into the headspace of TUT’s C-novelesque writing style. It might take some time but the payoff will be worth it. <3 Because I do notice quite a few of you lauded the writing style of TUT in your Bookmark notes. Which I am quite appreciative for and humbled by, though it does require me to be in the mindset to write intentionally flowery prose, haha.

It’s during this time, since Truce will be completed at this junction of time, I should be slowly migrating over the four threadfics from my Twitter to AO3. If you know, you know. Three of them, as I said, will be adapted into long fics (the M3GAN-inspired AU, the Fix-It AU, and the Sugar Baby AU). I’ll categorize them under what I’ll likely be calling either the Who Dares Wins series (‘cause it’s the SAS motto, y’get it? *wink wink nudge nudge*) or the Shock and Awe series (because it’s also another military operation name). Whichever I choose, it’s because Scorched Earth had already been taken so to be unique, I gotta go for something else cheeky but hopefully easy to remember by—aka the series of AO3 fics adapted from my Twitter threadfics. <— The only caveat is if I discover writing threadfics on Twitter will still get me shadowbanned. If this is the case, then I will be relocating them early after my experiment has been conducted even before Truce ch3-4 and TUT ch6 are written. There’ll be no real update schedule right now for them; these fics will be updated spontaneously because 80% of the content is being adapted from content that’ve already been written so it’s a bit easier for me to crank out (it’ll just need to be polished). What’ll be slow is if there are any new story content that’ll be added to the polished long fic versions.

Lastly, what’ll be next after TUT ch6, unless I’m very excited to get started on TUT ch7, is a toss-up between updating A Prince and His Baron and The Name of the Game. It depends on where my creative whim oscillates to at this junction of time.

So this is the plan! Take it with a grain of salt for now if a different story of mine will be strongly speaking to me and I change my mind later on, but this is the current list I have of my update schedule, adhering to the pinned post on my tumblr. ✨

[commentaryvorg]

The Great Ace Attorney Final Trial Commentary: Day 3, Part 1

This is an ongoing mini-commentary covering the final trial of The Great Ace Attorney (Resolve) in line-by-line detail. It’s written from a perspective of already knowing the full truth of things, so there will be spoilers for facts that only get revealed later on in the trial. This is not a commentary to read along with one’s first playthrough!

(The commentary will update on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Check this blog to find any other parts currently posted, and if it’s not yet finished, follow to catch future updates!)

Now that we’re below the readmore, I can add that this isn’t quite a commentary for everything going on in the final trial. It’s focused specifically on Kazuma and what’s going on in his head, only covering things which are relevant to him in some way (for the most part). I already had a lot to say about him in a big analysis post over on my main blog – but I have even more to say about him during the trial in even more detail, so here we are!

Time for the final day of the trial!

Van Zieks:  “On what grounds is Kazuma Asogi permitted to continue in his role as prosecutor? He has admitted to colluding with the victim in a plot to assassinate an innocent man. He shouldn’t be enjoying the privilege of freedom, let alone be leading the prosecution.”

Of course it’s van Zieks who points this out, when nobody else was going to bring it up.

(Kazuma should be in prison right now for a lot more than just this, but we can’t have that, grumble.)

Kazuma:  “I submitted a written petition to Lord Stronghart… requesting that judgement of my transgressions be delayed by one day.” Van Zieks:  “You did what?”

This is probably highly irregular and not something that someone would usually be able to get away with. But Stronghart wants van Zieks convicted and figures Kazuma’s the best person to have do that… and Kazuma is so, so desperate to get to do this.

Kazuma:  “In today’s proceedings… I intend to expose everything. My whole life for the last ten years… has all been leading up to this one day!” Ryunosuke:  “Kazuma…”

Hnnnngh, Kazuma. The outcome of this trial is everything to him, everything he’s been working so hard for, for so long. And now he’s trapped himself in a situation where he has to finish it all today, or else he might never get another chance.

I enjoy Ryunosuke reacting to this, at getting a sense of just how huge this is for his best friend.

Kazuma:  “Whatever the outcome of this trial… I give my word that I will accept whatever punishment is deemed appropriate. However severe.”

Kazuma means this, too; I don’t think he was ever intending to escape repercussions for his actions forever. All the way back when he agreed to the assassination mission in Japan, and when he went with Gregson and threatened him – he probably did all this while fully expecting to face the consequences for it in the end. He just needs to be able to finish getting justice for his father first, before all that happens. Afterwards? It doesn’t matter what happens to him afterwards. So long as he can fulfil his mission, that’s the only thing that’s important.

The ”however severe” especially brings this home. Even if it was capital punishment, which might actually be on the table under the circumstances. He is and has always been determined to avenge his father at any cost, even if it’s literally the last thing he ever does.

Of course, it’s not like he didn’t also have other things he wanted to do with his life – he still did mean it about wanting to study in Britain to be able to improve Japan’s legal system. But all of that is minuscule next to his main goal. He would sacrifice anything for this. Anything.

(The game actually kinda drops the ball on what’s supposedly going to happen with Kazuma’s own trial after this main trial concludes. The writing sort of just forgets about it and doesn’t bring it up again? So I can only assume that the British legal system also kind of forgot about it, or at worst let Kazuma off with only a minor punishment. That certainly feels most fair to me, given that his only real crime was saying that he’d kill someone, which he was emotionally manipulated into in the first place, and that his own guilt over what he’s done is more than punishment enough already. It did rather bother me on my original playthrough, though, that there was this apparent nebulous future punishment for his transgressions hanging over Kazuma’s head, and the game acted like it kind of just didn’t care and didn’t want to push for him getting a reasonably happy ending… until suddenly his ending did come across as reasonably happy after all.)

Ryunosuke:  (Kazuma is bristling with hostility today. I get the distinct impression we’re heading into very dangerous territory.)

I dunno, Ryunosuke; while Kazuma might be even more hostile than usual today out of desperation, we were already deep in quite some territory regarding Kazuma’s twisted tunnel-visioning on van Zieks’s guilt.

Susato:  “Is that even really Kazuma-sama standing before us?”

Oh nooooo, Susato, my heart. Ryunosuke also said something similar during the intervening scene at Baker Street – that Kazuma’s no longer quite the friend he knew and that he’s changed. I really wish the game did more with this! Kazuma is still the person they both know and hasn’t actually changed; it’s just that he’s dealing with a hell of a lot more issues than either of them expected him to have. I wish the narrative had gone more into exploring this and having them realise in the end that he is still their friend, instead of, again, having things between them suddenly be okay again in the ending scene with no real transition.

(There would have been a perfect opportunity for such introspection and development regarding this if only Kazuma had been arrested for Gregson’s murder and Ryunosuke had had to defend him, just saying!!! Again, this is why I wrote my AU fic.)

Ryunosuke:  “The defence is ready, My Lord.” Kazuma:  “The prosecution is more than ready.”

Once again, Kazuma is more than ready. He didn’t say this on the second day of the trial, but today of all days, on which he plans to bring this to an end – on which he has to bring this to an end because he won’t get another chance – of course he’s more ready than he’s ever been.

Jigoku:  “Haah… So it was you who issued this, was it?” Kazuma:  “Your subpoena? …I did what was necessary.”

It’s interesting that the game highlights that it was Kazuma who issued Jigoku’s subpoena. Without that, Sholmes and Mikotoba wouldn’t have been able to bring Jigoku with them off the Grouse yesterday, and he’d have got away. They had the subpoena with them when they went after him, meaning Kazuma must have issued it shortly after the first trial day at the latest, just in case it became necessary.

This is in stark contrast to how Kazuma was on the second trial day, where he was absolutely convinced that Jigoku must have been killed, and it didn’t even seem to occur to him that the court could possibly want to hear testimony from Jigoku about what happened on the Grouse if he did happen to be alive. That is not a Kazuma that I would have imagined preparing a subpoena for Jigoku in advance at all.

I guess what this speaks to is partly a hint of that very small and buried part of Kazuma that isn’t actually sure if van Zieks is guilty and genuinely wants to give him a fair chance. But perhaps it’s also partly a sign of something else I’ve been meaning to bring up at some point – that Kazuma’s tunnel-visioning has been getting worse as this trial’s gone on.

See, I roasted him a lot for his terrible logic yesterday, but it actually wasn’t nearly as bad on day 1! There was that part near the beginning where Susato commended him for not trying to argue that the gun might have belonged to van Zieks – and yet, “this gun could have been van Zieks’s, and so that somehow proves it definitely was, which means he totally did it” is an argument pretty much on par with his day 2 arguments in terms of logic.

So it seems, perhaps, that Ryunosuke casting very valid doubt onto the Fresno Street crime scene on day 1 made Kazuma become more desperate. With less confidence in the actual evidence, he began pulling more and more from his own hatred and twisted justifications that van Zieks is the worst and must be the killer and the Reaper and everything bad, to the point that he ended up with logic as flawed as in yesterday’s session.

Jigoku:  “…but my decision is unrelated to this case. I can’t be bound to testify.” Stronghart:  “Unrelated, you say?” Kazuma:  “………”

Kazuma is again pointedly shown being silent, and I imagine what he’s thinking is similar to what he was probably thinking at the end of the trial yesterday. Jigoku’s actions on the Grouse totally are unrelated to this case, because van Zieks definitely killed Gregson at Fresno Street, and so bringing Jigoku onto the stand is just a dead end that’s going to do nothing but quickly put an end to Ryunosuke’s hypothetical version of events. Right?

Susato:  “It has ties to another murder. A case that was tried in Japan almost a year ago now.” Kazuma:  “A year ago in Japan… The murder of Dr John H. Wilson, you mean?”

Kazuma looks to be in thought for a moment here, as if he’s only just realising the connection Gregson’s assassination has to Wilson’s death.

Kazuma:  “What’s this all about? Why is my name on that list?”

Here, too, is an indication that Kazuma had no idea about this being an entire plot with multiple assassinations such that there’d need to be a list of four names and not just two.

Ryunosuke:  “K. Asogi and A. Shinn… are the names of assassins.” Kazuma:  “No…”

It seems like Kazuma was really hoping he could at least get through things without this assassination agreement also coming to light – but nope.

Ryunosuke:  “…were masterminded by a pair of individuals from each country as a form of assassin exchange! And the telegram the defence has acquired is proof of this international ‘contract’ to kill!” Kazuma:  “Wha… WHAT?!”

And again: Kazuma’s reaction to this is distinctly shocked. He did not have the slightest idea that the assassination he was involved in one of a pair – that back when he was furiously defending Ryunosuke from false charges in Japan last year, that crime was the counterpart to the very murder he’d been forced to agree to himself.

Kazuma:  “Judge Jigoku…? What’s this all about?!”

Kazuma’s pretty forceful in questioning Jigoku here. Obviously he already knew Jigoku wanted him to kill Gregson in England, that’s not a surprise – so this is about the other crime. He’s probably only just realising now that for the entirety of the trial for Wilson’s murder, Jigoku – who was the judge – knew who the real killer was and yet cheerfully tried to get Ryunosuke convicted as a scapegoat. Kazuma faced a lot of roadblocks back then to even be able to defend Ryunosuke in the first place, which he must have at least partially known were thanks to Jigoku; now he understands exactly why.

Meanwhile, Ryunosuke accuses Kazuma of having lied in court yesterday, because his mark wasn’t actually Jigoku but Gregson.

Kazuma:  “……… Very impressive, Ryunosuke. But actually, I didn’t lie.” Ryunosuke:  “…!” Kazuma:  “The name of the target I was ordered to kill never passed my lips yesterday. The idea that Seishiro Jigoku was the mark… came entirely from you!”

I like that we have this one moment of Kazuma getting to show off and draw attention to his incredible skill at hiding the truth without actually lying. He’s done it a lot more than just this once, but explicitly pointing out this one instance invites us to look for other times he’s done the same kind of thing!

He’s also smirking a little bit as he says this. Apparently he feels at least somewhat smug about his prowess in deception-without-lying, although he probably wouldn’t consciously think that.

Ryunosuke:  (You… deliberately avoided saying a name?)

Oh, Ryunosuke, there are so many more things that Kazuma has deliberately avoided saying than just that.

--- Testimony 1 ---

(The game’s chapter select calls this one “Testimony 3”, because it seems to want to treat this day and the previous trial day just one long extended day. Which is pretty silly, because it isn’t. We may have had much less of a proper investigation in between than usual, but it is still day 3 of the trial now! So anyway, I’m going to ignore the game and number these testimonies based on what number they are in this trial day. Add two to these if you want to match them up with what the game calls them.)

Susato:  “To use such a worthy practice as foreign study to coerce somebody to commit murder… It’s the most appalling thing I’ve ever heard!”

Usually-soft-spoken Susato is not pulling her punches! She is incredibly disgusted at her family friend for manipulating Kazuma into agreeing to be an assassin. The fact that she sees foreign study as such a “worthy practice” in itself probably stems from how Kazuma wanted so badly to study in Britain all along – and as far as Susato knew, that was entirely for its own sake and not for a specific purpose.

Jigoku:  “Asogi had a reason for taking his sword to that British inspector, you know.” Ryunosuke:  “What?!” Jigoku:  “Which is why he accepted the mission in the first place. Isn’t that right… Counsel?” Kazuma:  “………”

I’m not convinced I believe this claim of Jigoku’s. Obviously we know Kazuma does have a motive to have wanted Gregson dead, now. But I’m not sure about Jigoku’s implication that Kazuma was aware of that when he took the mission, a year ago. The only person who could have told Kazuma about Gregson’s connection to his father’s case is Jigoku. For one, I’m not entirely sure Jigoku even knew that much, since he was only involved in the prison escape half of the plot – but more pointedly, I doubt he would have wanted to tell Kazuma anything he knew, because that’d cast suspicion on his own role in Genshin’s death, something he very much would not want Kazuma figuring out.

Nonetheless, Kazuma is evasively silent in response to this, because while he may indeed not have known about Gregson’s involvement back then, it’s likely he was able to piece things together enough to suspect something. And of course, it all eventually came to a head with him actually wanting to kill Gregson in that terrible moment, which Kazuma must not enjoy thinking about.

Kazuma:  “As I said yesterday, I’ve killed nobody. I freely admit that I accepted the mission, but on the night the plan was to be executed, I backed out.”

Kazuma is still wording things carefully. While talking about the night in question, he simply says that he didn’t go through with it, and not that he didn’t want to go through with it, because that would be a lie.

Kazuma:  “Gregson was killed after returning to London. In the room on Fresno Street. And the perpetrator of the crime was the Reaper, Barok van Zieks! The prosecution’s accusation remains unchanged.”

Naturally, Kazuma wants to remind everyone that van Zieks, who is definitely the Reaper, definitely did the murder, and everything we’re talking about now is just an irrelevant dead end. He is still genuinely convinced of this.

Susato:  “It’s unforgivable! Using Kazuma-sama’s feelings to manipulate him into agreeing to such a despicable plan…”

In the testimony’s recap dialogue, Susato has more Strong Opinions. I love that she’s thinking about Kazuma’s feelings and fully realises that he was manipulated and should barely be morally condemned for this decision at all. Honestly, I agree with her – despite all of Stronghart’s many crimes, the thing that gives me the biggest emotional reaction out of any of the villains’ actions in this game is Jigoku doing this to Kazuma. He knew that Kazuma was so desperate to get to Britain that he’d agree to absolutely anything if it was presented as his only way to do so, and ugh. To his friend’s son, and all. What a bastard.

Ryunosuke:  “But I think Kazuma manipulated Judge Jigoku, too. He completely double-crossed him.” Susato:  “Oh dear… It’s hard not to see that as a stroke of brilliance on Kazuma-sama’s part…”

I wouldn’t quite call it “brilliance” when it was as simple as “not keeping the promise he never wanted to be forced to make in the first place”, but I’m still with Susato here. Kazuma didn’t do anything wrong by refusing to go through with Jigoku’s expectations when Jigoku was the one who wronged him first by expecting him to do it at all.

Susato:  “I know I shouldn’t let my emotions cloud my judgement… but you must destroy him, Mr Naruhodo!”

Yesss, Susato. Love her being so furious on Kazuma’s behalf, not even caring that Jigoku is a respected figure and a family friend.

Kazuma:  “I thought it was a joke at first, of course. But then… it was made clear to me that if I didn’t accept, I wouldn’t be considered for the study tour.” Ryunosuke:  “So, so you agreed to it… just for that?! I mean, I know how much you wanted to study in Britain, but… assassination?!”

Ugh, I get it, but it still hurts to see Ryunosuke react with horror like this. You know he wasn’t planning to go through with it, Ryunosuke! His only crime was agreeing to something shady without any intent to follow through!

But even then, it’s still not remotely something he would have expected from his best friend a year ago.

Kazuma:  “………”

Kazuma’s not trying to defend himself. No doubt he always felt guilty about hiding this from his friend, and always expected it would make Ryunosuke think less of him.

Ryunosuke:  “Why Kazuma? Why did you pick him as the assassin?” Jigoku:  “He was the most capable of all the applicants. And in addition… I knew his desire to travel to Britain was very strong. In fact, it was almost more than a desire. It was his whole purpose in life.”

Ugh. Jigoku knew exactly how desperate Kazuma was and took advantage of that. He couldn’t risk bringing up the assassination mission to any potential candidate unless he was already sure that they would agree, lest they just turn him in to the police. But Kazuma was someone he could be certain would agree to this, so long as Jigoku threatened his chances to ever make it to Britain if he didn’t.

And conveniently, the candidate who was so utterly desperate to do this that he’d agree to an assassination for it was also the candidate who’d studied ridiculously hard to the point that he was the most capable applicant anyway and it wouldn’t look suspicious. Funny, that.

Kazuma:  “There’s nothing I wouldn’t have done to get here. Be that agreeing to assume the role of an assassin… or betraying people’s trust.”

Guhhhhhh, Kazumaaaa. This line really punches me in the gut with how completely desperately determined Kazuma was and is. And it’s interesting that he’s saying this to justify his decision… but he didn’t do so just a little earlier when Ryunosuke was directly accusing him. This time it’s directed more at Jigoku, or just the court in general. Perhaps he doesn’t really feel like these words would be enough to justify his actions to his best friend.

The “betraying people’s trust” part especially hit hard on my first playthrough. What with the more distant and hostile way he’d been acting lately, it felt like Kazuma could have been talking about betraying Ryunosuke’s trust. Aaaagh.

Jigoku:  “Well, you certainly did a fine job of betraying mine, Asogi.”

What Kazuma actually means, though, is this. He promised Jigoku he would carry out the assassination, Jigoku trusted him with it… and then he betrayed that.

And yet it’s so incredibly grossly entitled of Jigoku to be angry at Kazuma over this when he was the one who betrayed Kazuma’s trust in the first place by forcing him into this at all. If he had any sense, he wouldn’t have trusted Kazuma’s promise, when it was a promise made out of coercion.

(I guess this is Jigoku being mad that this then meant he had be the one to murder Gregson in the end. Oh no, you had to get your hands dirty yourself instead of coercing the son of the friend you also killed into doing it for you, how terrible.)

Ryunosuke:  “But why was Inspector Gregson the target?” Jigoku:  “I have no idea. Those were the orders from Britain. I was in no position to question them.” Kazuma:  “You have no idea? Really? I find that hard to believe.”

Kazuma’s right to. Not only is he bound to suspect that Jigoku knew something about Gregson’s involvement in his father’s death from his time in Britain ten years ago, but also, Jigoku literally just told the court that Kazuma had a reason to kill Gregson, which definitely implies that he knows the reason too!

Ryunosuke:  “Obviously, Kazuma didn’t actually die at all. But he did lose his memory. Including all details about his special mission.” Kazuma:  “………”

This bit is very rude to me personally, because on my first playthrough, I thought, “Why are they making a point of Kazuma’s silence here? Surely this is meant as a hint that he didn’t really lose his memory?” Which led me to continue to entertain that fervent theory of mine just a little more, even after I’d mostly abandoned it. First-time-me had further ammo for it by this point, too, because wanting to pretend he’d forgotten about his assassination mission would have been a very plausible reason for Kazuma to have faked amnesia!!!

In reality, we can presume that the actual reason the narrative is making a point of Kazuma’s silence is that he’s thinking about how losing his memory was painful and difficult, but god forbid Kazuma ever actually talk about or openly acknowledge the suffering he’s been through.

Kazuma:  “But I’d never intended to go through with the assassination mission anyway.”

Again, some very careful phrasing. He had never intended. Meaning he’s referring to a period of time in the past, around when he accepted the mission, at which point he did not intend to go through with it. A certain point in time much closer to the present day? He’s not talking about that point in this sentence. That would be a lie.

Jigoku:  “So you were playing me right from the outset, were you? Is that it?” Kazuma:  “I’d sooner be guilty of that crime than of taking someone else’s life. I was prepared to do whatever I had to in order to get myself here to Britain.”

Yes, Jigoku, and you should have realised from the start that he was planning to repay you in kind.

It is something that Kazuma still considers this – simply double-crossing Jigoku and making a false promise he intended to break – to be a “crime”. Kazuma cares a lot about honour and integrity, and it really hurt him to have to tarnish that in order to make it to Britain! Even though he was only doing this to somebody who’d already done much worse to him. Really, Kazuma, don’t beat yourself up over this – Jigoku deserved it.

Ryunosuke:  “I suppose Inspector Gregson was there in his capacity as the Reaper… He was intending to take the witness’s life.” Kazuma:  “Exactly. As I’ve said numerous times now, I had no intention of killing anyone.”

Once again, Kazuma is referring to a specific time period here – the point at which he and Gregson entered Jigoku’s cabin. At that point, he had no intention of killing anyone. Later than that? He’s not talking about that. Because he doesn’t lie.

It’s also starting to seem just a little suspiciously specific that Kazuma keeps repeating that he had no intention of doing any murders. Overcompensating for that guilt much, Kazuma?

Kazuma:  “I stayed to talk with Inspector Gregson for a short while… and then I left him there and made my way off the ship alone.” Ryunosuke:  “Was the guard still at the door when you went?” Kazuma:  “Yes. He glared at me as I walked past.”

Yes, just a short, casual conversation in which nothing at all serious happened, don’t worry about the blade tip in Gregson’s trunk, it’s totally irrelevant to the case.

Given that Kazuma must have been in rather a panicked state of mind after finding himself wanting to kill Gregson and very nearly doing it, it sure is something that he then immediately passed by the guard glaring at him. He must have managed to put up one hell of a poker face.

It’s surprising that the crewman didn’t hear the sound of Karuma hitting Gregson’s trunk, honestly, but then that could easily have led to Kazuma being arrested, and we can’t have that, apparently

(…Actually, scratch that – there’s a specific reason he wouldn’t have heard it. Someone had muffled the speaking tube in the cabin with a piece of cloth, which likely wouldn’t have drowned out a gunshot, but I could buy it muffling less loud sounds. It’s never revealed who did that, but it could very easily have been Kazuma, given that he wouldn’t have wanted anybody to overhear him threatening Gregson.)

Ryunosuke:  “But a hole like that made by a bullet was found in your cabin, Judge Jigoku! That’s compelling evidence that a gun was fired in there!” Kazuma:  “What’s that? A bullet hole…?”

Yes, Kazuma, speaking of bullet holes—

…That aside, Kazuma’s reacting to this in surprise because he’s only just realising that Ryunosuke has actual evidence that the murder might have occurred there. What do you mean it could have actually been Jigoku who did it, and not van Zieks.

(Jigoku goes on to write off the bullet hole as totally just woodworm or something, and Kazuma probably justifies it that way in his head, too.)

Kazuma:  “All crewmen were… away from their posts?!”

Kazuma also reacts to this. He’d been seeing Jigoku’s testimony as open and shut, he obviously couldn’t have done it because the guard would have heard the gunshot – what do you mean it actually was possible after all?!

Kazuma:  “A twenty-minute window of opportunity… That’s an excellent find, Ryunosuke. But it amounts to nothing!”

Even though he’s proud of his friend for figuring something out, Kazuma is still quick to brush this off as definitely irrelevant, because a mere possibility isn’t proof that anything actually happened.

(Funny how he’s able to acknowledge that proving something is possible is not the same as proving that it definitely happened that way, now that we’re talking about it being someone other than van Zieks who maybe did the murder.)

Kazuma:  “Unless you have some decisive evidence […]… your accusation is nothing more than conjecture!”

So is yours, Kazuma! Someone is still managing to forget this.

Ryunosuke:  “Judge Jigoku! This was found in your cabin yesterday.” Stronghart:  “What is that? The crown of a pocket watch?”

Interestingly, it seems Sholmes missed out a few details when he passed the evidence from his investigation of the cabin onto Ryunosuke. The crown of the watch was actually found in Jigoku’s trunk, which is distinctly not the same thing as his cabin. It could have been in the trunk without ever actually being in the cabin itself, so this technically doesn’t prove Gregson was attacked in the cabin… but on the other hand, it being in the trunk pretty much already proves that Gregson was inside there at some point. That’s not something the game wants us to get to just yet, so instead we have this little discrepancy that’s honestly very easy to not even notice (and makes sense to have happened, since Sholmes could have just not mentioned it).

Ryunosuke:  “Moreover, this crown is a perfect fit on the spindle protruding from the victim’s watch.” Kazuma:  “…!”

Kazuma’s shown being alarmed as he realises that Ryunosuke has some actual compelling evidence here. But barely a minute later…

Kazuma:  “Expertly manoeuvred, Ryunosuke.” Ryunosuke:  “…!” Kazuma:  “And your argument sounds entirely plausible… at first. But rather like this pocket watch, it’s full of cracks.”

…even despite praising his friend (I love how Kazuma’s always proud of Ryunosuke for coming up with his arguments even as he’s shooting them down, they are friends), he’s already figured out a way out of it. It’s probably easier than it would otherwise be to come up with ways in which this still doesn’t prove Jigoku’s guilt when you’re utterly convinced that van Zieks must have done it.

--- Testimony 2 ---

Jigoku:  “When I walked through the door, a mustachioed Englishman was there, foolishly waving a gun at me.”

Here’s an interesting point: I don’t think Gregson actually did point a gun at Jigoku. Sure, he was technically supposed to kill him since Kazuma had walked out, but I don’t believe he actually wanted to, given that Jigoku isn’t the kind of irredeemable criminal that the Reaper usually kills. He was probably feeling pretty conflicted about this whole mission, especially with his imminent transfer to France in which he was going to finally be done with all this murdering.

That and, if Gregson had had his gun out during their struggle, it rather begs the question… why didn’t Jigoku do the murder with Gregson’s gun? That would have been much easier to pin on somebody else, because anyone could theoretically have turned Gregson’s gun on him. As it is, by using his own gun, Jigoku limited the possible suspects to other judiciary members who carry the same model of gun (and coincidentally happen to have misplaced theirs). Framing Hugh Boone, like he'd originally intended to, wouldn’t actually have worked, because where would that guy have obtained such a weapon?

Ryunosuke:  “Far from being impossible for you to do… the transporting of Inspector Gregson’s body back to Britain is something ONLY you could do!” Kazuma:  “What are you talking about, Ryunosuke?”

Kazuma’s leaning forward and seeming quite urgent with this. What do you mean, it was possible, and maybe Jigoku did do it, and not van Zieks.

Ryunosuke:  “The actual scene of the crime…” Kazuma:  “The prosecution’s stance is unaltered. The killing took place on Fresno Street when the gunshot was heard… as the accused, Barok van Zieks, shot the victim at point blank range!”

Kazuma’s still insisting on this, again. He has to be starting to think by this point that maybe Ryunosuke’s onto something, but no, it was definitely van Zieks, it has to be.

Stronghart:  “Since no tangible evidence exists to disprove the prosecution’s claim at this time…”

No tangible evidence has existed to prove it for quite some time now!!!

The part where you have to prove Gregson couldn’t have been shot at Fresno Street because he died instantly and couldn’t have curled up like that is a bit silly and unintuitive. This is something Ryunosuke could have pointed out at any point earlier in the trial, to support his argument that the murder took place elsewhere! I suppose it makes some sense that it’s coming up now, because now that we know Gregson’s body was in a trunk, we have an explanation for why he was curled up, but still.

(But then if Ryunosuke had brought it up earlier, that might have been seen as actual proof that Kazuma’s argument is all wrong, because apparently the scorch marks on the candle were not already enough proof of that, even though they were and just got conveniently brushed aside and forgotten.)

Also, we could have just skipped this awkward unintuitive bit by simply forcing Jigoku to present his trunk for inspection, which would prove it anyway.

Ryunosuke:  “…before it was coldly turned out on the floor… from the inside of a large travel trunk!” Kazuma:  “No!”

Anyway, here’s Kazuma with a powerfully shocked reaction as he realises how much sense Ryunosuke’s argument makes and that Gregson couldn’t have been killed at Fresno Street at all.

Jigoku:  “Present my trunk? I refuse!” Kazuma:  “What?!”

What do you mean Jigoku’s being suspicious in a way that implies he obviously did it?!

Stronghart:  “Well, Mr Jigoku… what’s it to be?” Jigoku:  “………” Kazuma:  “You can’t be serious! You did it?!”

What do you mean, Jigoku did it, and it really wasn’t van Zieks at all???

Kazuma’s reaction here goes to show that he had still genuinely managed to keep convincing himself it was van Zieks until only just now, when the truth becomes completely impossible to deny.

And then Jigoku admits to moving the body but accuses Kazuma of the actual murder in a last-ditch effort to defend himself, which is far too little too late, grumble grumble. There’s no interesting narrative tension surrounding the question of whether Kazuma really might have done it when it’s already so obviously Jigoku at this point!

Jigoku:  “As you know, there was one other person in my cabin that night. He had the opportunity.”

We’ve known that Kazuma theoretically had the opportunity to do the murder for a while now, which is such a juicy point, but the narrative’s done nothing with it until just now! Like, I get why Ryunosuke and Susato wouldn’t want to think about it, but why has nobody else even pointed out this possibility until it already became clear the killer was someone else anyway???? Bah.

Stronghart:  “Well… the prosecution counsel has already admitted to visiting the witness’s cabin on the night in question.”

And this is all we get from Stronghart on the matter – the vaguest indication that he’d be more okay with throwing Kazuma under the bus for this than Jigoku. Because somehow he was not more okay with sacrificing Kazuma rather than van Zieks, even after Kazuma had repeatedly shown himself to be impossible to keep in line.

There’s not even that much narrative weight behind Ryunosuke being the one to prove Kazuma’s innocence in this one brief moment here, because Kazuma could perfectly well have done it himself anyway!

The “Overture to Pursuit” music kicks in about here as Ryunosuke begins to do so, which is a track that I love and that usually gets me really hyped. But no matter how much the music wants me to be, I can’t get hyped here over the fact that it was always literally impossible for Kazuma to have done this murder. He just had a freaking alibi the entire time, removing any potential for tension over whether or not it could have been him!!! Why.

And the thing is, Kazuma’s alibi is a really incidental, offhand sort of thing. Him staying at that boarding house in Dunkirk is only mentioned one other time and isn’t connected to any other part of the plot – it could have been completely removed while keeping everything else intact! This is particularly notable when almost every other plot point in this narrative serves multiple purposes for the story one way or another. Kazuma’s Dunkirk stay is one of the only things that doesn’t! It’s just… there, purely to give him an alibi and nothing else.

This means that it would have been so, so easily possible to write a story in which Kazuma theoretically could have done the deed and we’d actually had something come of this! If he’d just been on the ship the whole time – perhaps because the cabin’s guard had actually done his job and refused them entry due to Kazuma’s two fricking swords, meaning they had to wait until that window when all the crewmen left – then Kazuma would have been a perfectly viable suspect!

But nope, he just gets an alibi, making it that easy to prove his innocence when things actually come to this. Grumble grumble grumble.

(I think I am probably done complaining about this, finally, now that we’ve got past this point. Please read my fic in which Kazuma does get arrested if this idea seems enticing to you too.)

Jigoku:  “To lure the man in, he was given a sham mission by the Reaper.” Ryunosuke:  “W-What?!” (The Reaper…?) Kazuma:  “But there’s only one person who could have done that! The mastermind of the entire operation: the Reaper himself!” Ryunosuke:  “Ah!” Susato:  “So… that means the assassin exchange was… It was all planned by the Reaper!”

Kazuma is the first person to jump on this and point out that Jigoku has just effectively told the court that the Reaper mastermind and the exchange mastermind are the same person. As I touched on earlier, Kazuma would already have been pretty sure of that himself due to the circumstances of him getting the mission to supposedly kill Gregson, and he’d have been itching for an opportunity to prove as much in court, so that he can use his father’s case as evidence that van Zieks is the Reaper.

Jigoku:  “I decided that man [Hugh Boone] would be the perfect person to set up as the culprit.”

Framing van Zieks was actually an unexpected accident! While it’s a little frustrating that this means that Stronghart’s insistence on using this trial to get rid of van Zieks (and not Kazuma for some reason) wasn’t even planned, it does actually matter that Jigoku’s intended scapegoat was not van Zieks, as we’ll see later.

Kazuma:  “………”

Kazuma’s shown silently uncomplaining as Stronghart accepts Jigoku’s confession. No doubt he’s just waiting until he can get to the part where he accuses van Zieks of being the Reaper and the man who ordered Jigoku to kill Gregson.

Ryunosuke:  “Mr Jigoku! One last detail! Who was your counterpart in Britain? Who was the mastermind behind the assassin exchange?” Jigoku:  “………” Ryunosuke:  “Nothing you say now can make matters any worse for you! Just tell us!”

Ryunosuke’s got a point here – Jigoku’s apparently going to go down for murder, so he really shouldn’t have anything to lose. Even the fact that Stronghart’s holding him shooting Genshin over his head shouldn’t really matter any more, because one murder or two doesn’t make a difference to the death penalty. (Although I do suspect that Jigoku might feel a certain amount of personal guilt over shooting his friend dead, to the point that he just doesn’t want anyone to know about that, regardless of the consequences.)

But mostly, I think the reason Jigoku insists he can’t say anyway is that, despite what he keeps saying, it’s not actually over for him. Not as long as Stronghart’s still able to pull some strings behind the scenes to get him out of this.

Stronghart:  “Seishiro Jigoku, it is the opinion of this court that you should be found… Guilty. And may I remind all those present of the strict confidentiality demanded by this closed court!”

Stronghart’s approach here certainly implies he’s planning as much. Look, everyone, he’s unofficially declared him guilty here, so that totally counts right? And nobody’s allowed to tell anybody that this happened – which means nobody can complain if Jigoku conveniently gets let off the hook in his actual trial later.

(It is a bit silly that it does the whole flames-in-the-scales thing for the Guilty, but not only is that setup for Stronghart’s breakdown later, declaring an unofficial verdict here actually does make some sense with the manipulation Stronghart’s trying to pull for Jigoku. See – most things in this story serve multiple purposes!)

Anyway, that was a point I found interesting and non-obvious enough that I wanted to talk about it even though it has nothing much to do with Kazuma, but let’s get back to Kazuma.

Stronghart:  “In short, the defendant’s innocence has therefore been established beyond doubt.” Kazuma:  “………”

Kazuma’s still biding his time, just waiting for the perfect moment to object and argue that no, it hasn’t.

Ryunosuke:  “I’m just a little troubled… by his silence.”

Ryunosuke notices it too! He knows his friend – which in this instance means he knows Kazuma’s fervent determination to convict van Zieks well enough to be sure he’s not just going to give up and accept defeat like this.

Stronghart:  “I hereby declare the defendant, Barok van Zieks………” Kazuma:  “Objection!”

Seriously, Kazuma, you really were just waiting for the most dramatic possible moment, weren’t you? Dork.

[yolowritter]

In Offense to Wang Fu and Su-Han Part 1: Whinny chicken leg!

Hello there everyone, and welcome to another post where we bash Miraculous characters over the head with a steel chair! Well, their writing in most cases, but Fu is different! If there is one adult in this show that has genuinely almost drove me insane, it's this man! Even Su-Han, I can sort of understand! I hate him just as much, but I kinda get where he's coming from. So today, I've got a rant to explain what role they are supposed to be fulfilling in the show, why both of these "wise mentors" fundamentally fail to do so, and why I personally dislike their characters to the point of seething hatred, comparable only by the kind I feel for Tomoe Tsurugi! I'll get to her and a few other adults I have a bone to pick with in future posts, but nobody, and I mean nobody is safe from me! Today we focus on the analysis of "mentor characters", their intended role in a story, and why Wang Fu and Su-Han make the top-10 list for the worst mentors in fictional history! Anyway, before I start losing my marbles again, let's all make sure we're on the same page when it comes to Fu and his "character" in Miraculous Ladybug.

First off, it's important to give context as to the man's backstory and how exactly he ended up Guardian of the Miraculous! I'll be taking most of this information from Seasons 2 and 3 of the show without naming individual episodes, since everything pretty much blends together for his story. So, in his early life, Fu was born and grew up in a rural village presumably near Tibet, considering he was at some point selected to become a Guardian of the Miraculous by Su-Han and the Order. Now, I will elaborate on this later, but for the record, I will be first when it comes to bashing him and his organization for their short-sighted practices and arbitrary rules. Believe me, I will! But none of what they do absolves Fu of his own failures as a mentor to Ladybug and Chat Noir. Anyway, Fu was selected as a child by the Guardians, a supposed great honor that forced him to abandon his family and home. I don't remember if an exact age was stated in the relevant episodes, but he must have been a very young child at that time. His training was harsh, and Fu was practically considered an outsider, scorned by his fellow trainees and delegated to the duties of a modern-day unpaid intern. Sweeping the floors, general chores, etc.

We have little information on the Order's structure, but it's easy to see how Wang Fu was on the lowest possible rung of the proverbial ladder, even amidst his fellow Guardians-in-training. He was apparently considered a failure yet stayed nonetheless, fulfilling his duties and pushing forward with his training. Even the Grand Master of the Order calls him "whinny chicken leg" and a "failed disciple". As an aside, if Reverse!Fu is the Supreme like people theorize, that's an awesome villain backstory! Point is, Wang Fu very much did not like being a Guardian. Still, it's important to mention that he did his best! there are a lot of reasons as to why the Temple and the Order both Fell, but it's obvious to us that Fu blames himself for that catastrophe even almost two centuries after the fact! He's clearly dedicated to his assigned purpose as a Guardian, and wracked by guilt for his part in the Order's destruction. All in all, Fu is an honorable man who was pushed into a role he never wanted, burdened with responsibility and scorned by all those around him. He is undoubtebly a victim of abuse and the last bastion protecting the entire human race from whomever may decide to use the Miraculous and their godly powers to become an absolute, unstoppable power. Wang Fu is a survivor, striving to keep everyone safe even in the face of fundamental loneliness, and tending to the Kwami as his Masters once did. I honestly very much like his backstory, and admire him for sticking to his own principles instead of misusing the Miraculous for personal gain.

Now let's see why none of this fixes any of his fundamental faults as a mentor to Ladybug and Chat Noir. Notice I said faults, not flaws. Those are different, and present in every character within a story. Flaws are necessary for complexity, building a multi-dimensional and deep character that doesn't end up as a cardboard cutout or a Mary Sue. Even the shows titular protagonists have flaws, a whole mountain of them! And that's very good in my opinion! In fact, Fu's backstory perfectly explains his cautious attitude, borderline paranoia and constant insistences on secrecy. Believe it or not, I actually like that about his character! Unfortunately...Wang fails to actually learn from his experiences, despite how badly they torment him. Guilt wracks every fiber of his being, yet he repeats the exact same mistakes of his own teachers. The result? A young, untrained Guardian left alone in the world, as the last bastion of humanity and desperately fighting to keep the Miraculous away from a madman who wishes to misuse them for his own personal gain! A young girl burdened by a power she never asked for, forced to give up her once-normal life in the service of the Greater Good. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, striving to protect everyone under the guise of Ladybug, and close to being crushed under the weight of responsibility! Sound familiar? I sure hope it does!

In a harrowing twist of irony, every decision and action that Wang Fu makes ultimately dooms his own apprentice to the very same fate that he was once subjected to! Admittedly, some of these choices serve to keep the status quo from a meta perspective, since "the show must go on" and all that. But Fu had both the experience and the years of self-reflection necessary to at least know what not to do when taking two young heroes under his care. And if we take Fu at his own word, he's already "gotten it wrong once before". It irks me that we still don't know what this line means, and I do hope we find out because it could make for an amazing flashback story, but anyway. From this, we know that Fu has had the opportunity to learn from his mistakes. And...to his credit, that isn't entirely false. After all, he does test both Adrien and Marinette, who perform an act of kindness at their own expense without a second thought, and correctly judges them worthy of the responsibility that comes with bearing a Miraculous. But he also makes mistake after mistake, even when red flags should have been raised specifically because Fu himself was on the other side of these very problems once!

Let's go through the basics, shall we? Fu is extremely hands-off when it comes to Ladybug and Chat Noir's fight with Hawkmoth. I obviously understand the need for secrecy, and I'm not expecting a 186 year old man to suit up and fight. Once again, Fu does try, and only picks others because he recognizes his own lack of ability to act as he once did. But after giving the kids time to adjust in Season 1, Fu should have revealed himself to both Ladybug and Chat Noir. The only reason Marinette ever learns he exists in the first place, is because Tikki finds the missing Grimoire and instructs her Holder on how to return it. If the Volpina mess hadn't happened, Fu would have presumably continued to hide away, until eventually deciding that he should step in. But...knowing what we know and seeing how cautious he is, Fu's entire M.O. can be accurately described as too little, too late. This deals mainly with his treatment of Adrien in S3, but also is a general truth. Nothing Fu does to help the kids comes at the right time, despite the fact that he does his best. Sometimes his best just isn't enough, because he never acts in time.

Several points can be made as to how this was necessary, and to act rashly would be a security risk...but to not act and allow problems and uncertainty to fester is the very reason why the Order fell in the first place! Fu had a first-hand experience with being on the receiving end of this treatment from Su-Han and the other Masters. So why does he make the exact same mistake? Why not allow Marinette to inform her partner that they have a safety net, and there exists someone who they can go to for help and advice? Mind you, Ladybug feels that she can't tell Chat Noir, and not from a place of safety concerns. Fu has secrets, and it simply isn't her place to tell without his permission. Marinette doesn't do anything wrong here, it's Fu who places the kids in a bad situation that breeds mistrust. Look what this evolves into! An entire Season-long arc with Adrien feeling like he isn't wanted anymore, to the point where he willingly gives up his position as Ladybug's partner after being kept out of the loop for months by that point! Fu could and should have nipped this problem in the bud immediately, by at the very least sitting down with the two and offering to listen.

Wang Fu is meant to be a mentor. There are many examples in fiction I could use, such as Uncle Iroh or Obi-Wan Kenobi. I won't get into it here, but you know what every proper mentor does? They are there for the student. It is a mentor's sole obligation to nurture and teach their desciple to the best of their ability, to listen to their troubles and guide them through hardships. Sometimes a hands-off approach is necessary to avoid coddling and sheltering a student, therefore making them dependent and turning the mentor into a crutch. But Fu...just doesn't try to teach. There's many ways to wave this away or excuse it with "trauma" and "bad experiences", yet his own hardships at the Temple of the Guardians should be the reason why Fu adamantly refuses to stay out of it! If anything, Wang should be in the thick of it, offering tea and a listening ear to help Adrien deal with the stress Gabriel puts on him! He should be there to guide Marinette through her feelings of insecurity and anxiety, to gently remind her that she's been chosen for a reason, and he has faith in both of them! Fu already has the means to get into close proximity with both Ladybug and Chat Noir, yet never utilizes them to perform even the most basic duties a mentor worth their salt should be! His crippling loneliness and burden of responsibility ought to push him to alleviate those negative emotions from the children under his care, but he never does this! Not once!

Fu only acts when it's absolutely necessary, and by then the damage has arguably been done! It's only a matter of time until Adrien starts feeling like he isn't needed, or until the cracks of the kids' partnership begin to show! As their teacher and instructor, it's Wang's job to help deal with these problems! But evidently, he keeps all the cards close to his chest. He's overly secretive, never provides even the most flimsy excuse of a support system, and fundamentally fails to keep them safe! He is the one who put Marinette and Adrien in mortal danger! It's because of his choice to give them their Miraculous that Adrien has died dozens of times by this point! it's because of him that Marinette is overworked and burdened by the weight of responsibility, and Fu doesn't do the bare minimum to help! He isn't there, only tells Marinette about his secrets when they are absolutely needed, and doesn't allow for Ladybug and Chat Noir to properly co-operate, because Fu's own decisions keep their partnership from being equal in the first place! There is an entire separate rant I could go into here just for how he's been treating Adrien during the show's runtime, but suffice it to say, I am pissed!

Fu is an adult! He is the one responsible for all of Marinette and Adrien's double-life problems, because he's the one who selected them for the role! Despite trying to help, Fu doesn't ever manage to offer even meager guidance, on the account that he doesn't want to! It isn't hard to just tell Ladybug that she or Chat Noir should show up at a certain day and time for a conversation. It isn't hard to ask how the kids are holding up, or how he can help take off some pressure! It isn't hard to be there, but he never is! The only times where Fu actually helps instead of being a glorified "select your powerup" videogame cutscene are when he wants to appease Adrien or needs Marinette's help to translate the Grimoire! Wang never even acknowledges any of the myriad of problems that our protagonists are battling with, even though a five minute conversation with them or even their Kwami could inform him about this! So yes, Wang Fu tries! But in the end, Su-Han is -and I never thought I would say this- partially right in his assessment of Fu! The man is a coward, because he's scared of admitting his own faults, never mind confronting his guilt and fear! As an adult, and especially a Guardian, he has a responsibility to at the very least prevent the demons that plague him from being passed on to the next generation! Fu could have let the Guardians' faults die with him, yet he passed on every last bit of self-doubt, confusion and weight on the shoulders of the apprentice that he also failed to prepare for her role! Marinette was arguably the one doing more work than Fu, and a far more responsible, respectable, and dedicated Guardian than her pathetic excuse of a Master! And as a truly wise man once said, Do or Do Not! There is no Try!

There's even a really easy way to fix this! In fact, Thomas would have to change nothing about this man's backstory and actions to make him ten times better, and I'm baffled as to why it never crossed his mind! Just...make Fu bitter. He was heckled and borderline abused by Su-Han and the other Masters at the Temple, burdened with a duty he clearly didn't want. And yet...he's the last member of the Order. Every single one of those old mentors are dead, and it's all his fault! Or that's what Wang believes anyway. He blames himself, so he keeps the last relic of the Guardians safe out of guilt, holds onto the great weight that is his duty because there is no one else. Maybe his mistake, the one time he got it wrong, was when Fu had made a friend. A person he trusted, who wormed their way into his good graces by listening to his troubles, by letting the old man slowly begin to open up again. Think a character like Lila for example. This person is a Miraculous Holder, for one reason or the other. There's plenty of historical events to warrant one in the last hundred seventy years. Fu tentatively gives out a Miraculous to an adult, as Su-Han had insisted was good and proper, tries to stick to his teachings and do things by the book. Slowly but surely, he feels less alone, instructs this person in the Old Ways...perhaps considers it's time to retire. But then it's revealed that they've been after the Box all along! They only craved the power of the Miraculous, and Fu was forced to fix his mistake once again! Mind you, this could be done through a vague allusion and a two-minute flashback sequence. Not like Thomas bothered to give us anything else for the Guardians...

Irrespectively of this plotline, Fu is bitter at the time of Origins. He's done his job for almost two centuries, and been repeatedly hunted down for it. The only real reason why he protects the Miraculous anymore are the Kwami themselves, who are his only friends. Then in Origins, he still tests Marinette and Adrien. At the end with Wayzz, he says that he hopes again, for the first time in a while. As for his tendency to never act in time? He purposefuly holds out till the last moment, because he doesn't want to be doing any of this. Maybe he eventually feels guilty for dragging children into this fight, maybe he doesn't share the Guardians' secrets because he hates what their supposed training did to him. Fu is in essence trapped and duty-bound, battered and broken by the many years that have passed by...until Ladybug comes along. A bright girl that reminds him so much of his old self, who Fu hesitantly decides to take on as an apprentice. But he's never taught anyone before. He was widely known as the Temple's failure. How can he, a talentless old man who those great Masters of the Order never once praised...possibly become an instructor? Fu lacks self-confidence, he hates asking Marinette's help because he should be able to translate the Grimoire's metaphors on his own...and he has very little to offer in terms of knowledge. It instantly becomes a story that gives him incredible depth as a man who believes himself unable to help, yet still trying! Fu doesn't hesitate to help because the plot says so, he just doesn't think that he can! Take this in whichever direction you want, it's much better than canon I promise you.

In conclusion, Fu...greatly annoys me. But then again, I suppose there is a reason why he ended up this way. A cowardly, secretive old codger with no ability to look past his own failures Fu may be...but he isn't at fault for what happened to the Guardians themselves. Oh, no no no! That mountain of responsibility goes directly on the shoulders of Su-Han, and his utterly repulsive excuse of an institution! But...this post is getting long, so we'll look at him in part 2! It's coming in the next couple days, but feel free to drop your thoughts below or shoot an ask my way! These posts are meant to open up discussions after all! Anyhow, I'll see you all next time, but until then, Stay Miraculous everyone!

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[chartreuseian]

Hi! 😁

For the writing shop talk game: 🫂, 🐍, 😍, 🫀, 🎓

Hi hi! Thank you!!

🫂- What was your inspiration for your WIP?

Lol, which one!? Train fic? No clue (started it too long ago). Lessons: an image I had in my head of Helen, John and James on the couch by the fire. Modern AU: it's sort of inspired by the Out of the Blue rewrite I did in the Olden Days that I tried to transform into an original story (still in the Olden Days) that just didn't come together. This bears very little resemblence to either of them, but it's where the vibes come from.

🐍- How do you deal with it when you come across a plothole?

Complaining bitterly to myself about my own stupidity? To be honest, I'm not great at seeing them. Most of my stories come together as fairly complete ideas before I write them (and I almost always know what the main complication is and how I intend to resolve it) so I find a lot of the plot holes end up being small and more workable. The thought of starting something without a clear end goal freaks me out too much, I think!

😍- Post one sentence you think is really great.

Alright, I don't think this is really great but it made me laugh when I wrote it on my walk today...

And then she was kissing him and his cheeks were burning hot because 1) he hadn't even thought about that and 2) she had which meant that 3) Helen was very much intending to have sex with him.

🫀- Do you have an abandoned project? Why did it get binned?

Hmm... Not so much in the fanfic space. A few oneshots where I had made a single line an an outline of an idea, but nothing meaningful. Generally if I like something well enough to start writing it, it's because I've gone and hyperfixated for long enough to produce something that'll keep me working at it for a while!

🎓- Did you have formal training in creative writing? How do you feel about that?

Yup. Majored in Creative & Professional Writing at uni. Loved every second of it. Some of the courses were ridiculous, but some absolutely changed the way I approach writing. One of my courses in particular still informs a lot of the way I write, and I actually use the activities and writing prompts from it when I'm looking to play with creating particular effects in a story.

Honestly though, I went into the course pretty new to the whole idea of writing. I'd only been writing for about 4 or 5 months when I changed my major so it was a pretty drastic step (and looking back, risky given how ridiculously expensive university can be). Creative writing actually isn't my strength as a writer, but studying it really did change the way I approached the idea of writing and narratives. Certainly don't regret it!

[1loer]

I've been going through really bad cycles of feeling intensely embarrassed about my writing. More specifically, that people are reading it, when the full honest truth of it is that theres a lot that I've written that I'm not completely happy with anymore. As it is, when you're new to something. The unfortunate reality is that as you grow as an artist you look back on things you've done before and can suddenly see everything wrong with it that you couldn't see before. When that also includes the knowledge that thousands of people have /also/ seen that thing...It's a very consuming level of shame for me. It feels very vulnerable, in a way I really, really didn't consider when I started sharing my writing.

I sat down today to write out a huge critique of everything I'd ever written, as if putting it public could absolve me of some of this shame, because I'm just proving to people who don't like my writing "Look I know!". I don't think anyone is a bigger critic of an artist's work than the artist themselves. I diguised the reason for it as a sort of excercise to improve my writing in the future, if I could just point out everything wrong with it, I wouldn't do it in the future! But really, it was an exercise in people pleasing and self-hatred.

Or, well. It was supposed to be. Thing is, by the time I got to the end of it, and wrote out not just everything bad about my writing, but the things I liked too, the thing that I was left with was...It was fun.

Ok, do I cringe hard when I read back the first few chapters of my fic to the point I simply dont read them anymore? Yes. Do I regret the way I wrote the opening chapters? Yes. Do I think I did a very bad job at portraying the start of Hinata and Komaeda's relationship, and especially Komaeda's reaction to Hinata being Reserve Course? Oh 100%. If I were to re-write it, these are the biggest things I would change, even if the outcome would basically be the same. I would've put a lot more emphasis on the fact that really Komaeda's anger was borne from jealousy at how Hinata is able to act normally despite not being talented, which is what I intended. But in that initial interaction, it really doesn't come off that way, and it bugs me to this day. But the thing is...That chapter, and all the bits that I'm most uncomfortable with, are over 2 years old at this point. I think, really, as it always is, this embarrassment is a good thing. It just means I've grown.

As well as being 2 years old, I wrote it alongside my master's dissertation. Most of my energy towards writing was very firmly elsewhere. Because really, the only reason I was writing it? Because it was fun. And it was fun. I had so much fun writing it, and so much fun sharing it with my best friend. So much fun that I actually ended up finishing it. Which I really didn't believe I would've. Then when I posted it, I had so much fun. Seeing everyone's reactions- I think I was the most excited for chapter updates out of everyone. Even now, a year on, people are making fanart for it??? And discovering it again?? And, somehow, liking it? And it's just baffling to me. To the me now that can see everything wrong with it, it's a bit hard to come to terms with. But...It just makes me so happy. Because really, the most important thing isn't that it was perfect. It isn't what I'd change now. It isn't all the things I did wrong. The most important thing is that...I did it. I actually finished it. I finished it, I wrote every idea I spent so many nights imagining and really, honestly believed would never see the light of day, and it was just so much fun.

By the time I got to the end of this terrible self-critique of my silly fanfiction, I'd actually dispelled so much of the things that were making me so upset, because I realised this simple, honest fact. It was fun. It still is fun. So thats why I keep writing. And I care if it's bad, of course I do!! I want to be good, I want to tell good stories and have an impact and make people feel and make people remember my work- but most of all, it's FUN! And out of everything thats the most important thing. And that's why you keep writing, or drawing, or doing anything at all in this sad, frustrating, unfair life. Because it's fun. And sometimes, amongst everything else, it gets pretty easy to lose sight of that. But I think, from now on, I'm going to try and cling to that in moments where I feel like this again. Okay I do it to be good. But I want to be good because it's fun. That's really all that matters.

[carefulfears]

MM Anon again ^.^

Yes, first time watching through! Though I have been seeing the gifs and pair on my dash for years now...sort of bummed I am so late to the party because this ship is everything, I can see why it is the One-Who-Started-Fandom-Shipping😆

I also just watched Never Again and am loving the back-and-forth dialoging on your dash today on it! Three things that stood out to me from the posts:

1) I really wanted her to keep the tat!

2) Did she actually sleep with Ed? Because he was on the couch in the morning so that confused me (also my romantic brain plays into the idea that they are just so married™ but my brain is weird).

3) And they had so much gold they could have continued to mine which I hope they do in the next few seasons! Get.Her.A.Desk. Or, alternative headcanon, she comes in the next day to his pathetic attempt to make amends by putting a piece of masking tape under the name on his office door and writing "Special Agent Dana Scully" on it xD

Sorry, I just have to gush to anyone who will put up with it!

AHH i'm so excited for you!! i love never again, it's such an insightful exploration of scully's character and so many deeper issues that the show rarely goes into. i know it's off of me to say that an episode written by two men feels very indicative of women's struggles but it's glenmorganjameswong so i'm allowed. they just get these characters, and they get scully, even the parts you only see when no one is around. gillian too, who had asked for a darker scully-centric.

it's like my favorite post on it says, it's about failed liberation, about the failure of feminism in a man's world; whether they intended it that way or not, it's intensely resonant to me.

1/ in my mind she still has the tattoo, there was no reason to have it removed since the traces of ergot weren't high enough to be damaging. i know we don't see it again but continuity on this show is fluid, we can think whatever we want lol.

2/ she did sleep with ed, chris carter removed the scene. some believe this was for the best, some believe it's dismissive and harmful to erase her choices and autonomy. i'm of the latter opinion, i think it's important that there was something physical and bodily and sexual about her "liberation," and the ways in which she was punished for it.

3/ GET HER A DESK! i love your headcanon, anon. there is so much underlying and bubbling up and present in never again. personally, that's what makes the ending hit so hard. that it ends in silence, a trailed off half-sentence, sitting in between the light and the dark. they're both being confronted with so much, and they are about to be confronted with more, and they can't betray how they feel out loud.

gush to me anytime, you gotta keep me updated on your journey!! always good to hear from you.