#ok enough mauls for now

[monikalaprus]

Malachor

[zhuzhee]

waughh i will get through this semester i will throttle my exams i will finish all my org work especially that one pesky shirt design i will focus on my project i will draw mochael my beloved and actually start reviewing the consti and commit maybe ten crimes hashtag Manifesting

[jedi-enthusiast]

I said I would get on my "let villains just be evil" soapbox again in the Jedi Appreciation server, so here we are.

LET VILLAINS JUST BE EVIL, FOR FORCE'S SAKE!!!

For some context: this was brought up on a discussion of how Kallus should've just stayed a villain instead of getting the shitty half-assed "redemption arc" that he did in Rebels and also how I would have done Rebels differently.

Now-

I am just...so utterly sick of people (both fans + some of the people creating new SW media) just not letting villains be villains and/or trying to soften them up or give them a sad backstory or whatever.

-----

I like Anakin/Darth Vader as a villain...fans try to justify his actions and say that he was right + Filoni is now under the delusional impression that Anakin was the "best Jedi."

I like Thrawn as a villain...I've also seen people justify his actions and say that he was "right" to steal important cultural artifacts from the cultures he's taking over/destroying because "they'd be destroyed anyway," like that makes it ok.

(I'm also terrified that Filoni is gonna try to give him some sort of sob story or redemption arc in the Ahsoka show, since that's pretty on par for what he's been doing lately)

I like Maul as a villain...and apparently people also try to justify his actions, especially in Rebels, for some reason. I don't even know how, but apparently they do.

I like Dooku as a villain and Filoni tried to justify his actions and make him seem "reasonable" in TotJ, like Dooku didn't become a fucking fascist dictator.

I haven't seen enough of the Sequels to properly gauge whether or not I'd like Kylo Ren as a villain, but plenty of people did! ...and then the directors gave him a half-assed redemption arc and called it quits.

-----

Like please, for the love of god, can people just let villains be evil and terrible people? Can we all just enjoy their characters as they are instead of trying to turn them into something they're not?

Because, at this point, the only villain that's safe to like is Palpatine--but I'm almost certain that people have tried to justify his actions too.

It's exhausting to have to explain-

"Yes, I like Anakin/Darth Vader because I think he's badass, no I don't think the Jedi were evil or in the wrong or that they caused his Fall."

"Yes, I like Thrawn because I think he's creepy and a formidable opponent to face, no I don't think he was benevolent for stealing cultural artifacts from cultures he destroyed."

"Yes, I like Maul because he's absolutely batshit insane, no I don't think his actions against Obi-Wan were justified or that he was right to try and manipulate/kidnap Ezra to be his apprentice."

"Yes, I like Dooku because he's a snarky asshole and also pretty badass, no I don't think that he was actually right or that the Separatists were right either."

etc. etc.

LET VILLAINS JUST BE EVIL!

[msn-04iinightingale]

Hel

Drop: -10:00:00

The Seraph died, torso armor and cockpit ravaged by PPC blasts and LB 10-X auto cannon rounds. Owen switched targets, raking a Deva with his ER Medium Lasers. The enemy mech responds with a Gauss rifle slug which slams into the left leg of Owen’s mech. He grunts with the neural feedback of the damage dealt. Quickly checking his armor, he was relieved to see that the round hadn’t penetrated the armor. 

“Atta girl, Katherine, gonna take more than that to take you out.” He grins at the chime indicating his ER PPCs are recharged. “My turn!”

The twin PPC bolts snap out with thunder cracks, blasting into the Deva’s right arm, tearing away armor and hopefully, damaging the Gauss Rifle there.

Seconds later, the arm explodes, the Gauss rifle evidently having been damaged enough to overload. The Deva staggers, allowing Anya to light the other mech up with her Clan Pulse Laser, and Clan Medium Lasers, green and blue beams cutting into its armor in multiple places. It swings, and fires its Light PPCs at the Thunderbolt, two missing and one blasting into Anya’s torso armor. Owen hears the small sharp intake of breath over the comms. It pays for this damage by catching a LB 10-X slug to the cockpit fired by Owen. The enemy mech shudders, and then slumps over into the side of a nearby building.

“You ok Major?” He asks.

“Yeah…fuck that hurt…” Anya replies. “But I’ve still got armor, I’m good.” She sounds tired.

“Christ we all are.” Owen thought. The fighting had been fierce, and nearly constant since they landed. The city, a small place named L’Anerie, had turned into a near constant running battle between Barghest Company and Fursona's Fusiliers, and the Word of Blake. The city was a maze of buildings just tall enough to obscure sight lines more than a few blocks, and it seemed like it was filled to the brim with enemy mechs, weapon emplacements and ambushes. They had lost several Fusiliers to Heavy Level II’s lying in wait, and several of his own mechs are badly mauled. Billy’s Archer is missing an arm and the LRM launcher in one side torso, and Vance’s Thug’s damaged leg is now almost locked up. Not to mention all of his mechs have had their armor savaged. And the ammo situation…

Owen sighed a bit. He always knew it would be a bad one. 

Still.

In the next street over, Victoria and Vance have brought down an Archangel with Kei providing large laser and missile fire. Victoria wrenches her mech’s hatchet from the enemy mech’s side, as well as pulling the retractable blade, and the arm attached to it, from her left torso armor.

“Ugh…don’t know how much longer we can do this, boss…” she says, over comms. “Got a hole in my left torso armor.”

“Yeah, Envy’s pretty banged up too.” Kei added. “Also I’m soooooooo hoooooooot….uuuuuuuugh….”

“Understood.” Owen replied, checking the mini map. The forest of red dots had been reduced significantly, leaving only several small pockets and one decent sized one left.

“We good to move forward, sir?” Maria asks, ever professional. Her Mad Cat had lost a good chunk of it’s armor, and was down top a quarter of its missile load, but still functional.

“Hell, I’m ready to pack it in, few more scraps like this and I got is a fucking pair of medium lasers left, might as well spit at em at that point” The gruff voice of Billy adds, ever the blunt one.

Owen considered, they were banged up, but still largely functional.

“Sir….I have found something” The soft voice of Elenor appears over the comms.

“Report Lt, what’ve you got?” Owen asks.

“Civilians, sir…a lot of them…” She replies.

Owen feels a familiar weight in his chest at what might come next. The Word was never kind to the civilian population of the worlds the conquered.

“…report status of the civilians, Lt.” He asks.

“… scared, sir.”

Owen lets out a sigh. Great…just great…

He pushes several buttons and keys up Savannah’s frequency.

“This is Garm 1 to Fursona, we’ve got a situation here. A civilian situation, over.”

@is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not

[pianocat939]

Ok so I'm hyper fixating on vampires right now-

Its totally fine if you don't but what about vamp yan turtles?

I'm gonna assume rise since that's what most ppl request-

I've already written about Jiang Shi Donnie so vampires aren't terribly hard-

Tw: mention of guilt-tripping, glorification and religious themes, brief mention of murder

(I'm not sure what to write exactly...? Like I could easily write more I just don't know what- so I kinda just went with the basic thing of all haha- I'll happily answer any other possible scenarios since this one's so short)

Would they ever suck blood from MC?

Leo yes, definitely. He whines about it to the point it's basically guilt-tripping. He'll act like he's become weak for not feasting for a week, saying he's trying to keep himself from biting so many people (when really he drinks every other day). "Can't you give me just some of your blood~? It doesn't have to be a lot, just enough to keep me stable~"

Raph will only do so if he absolutely needs blood. He's very hesitant because he's scared he might hurt you or make you fatigued. He's like this with any of his victims, but especially you. You'll have to reassure him a few times before he bites, and when he does, he takes as little as he can without risking his own exhaustion. "You sure you're ok with this? I don't want you to pass out from blood loss or something!"

Donnie- never. The only possibility I can see is if he's in a dire situation and you're literally telling him to bite because he's so weak. "Ugh- I'm only doing this because you insist." But other than that kind of situation, he wouldn't dare to bite you. He's too protective to do such a thing- but he will maul other victims like crazy with no mercy.

My opinion might be a bit surprising with Mikey, but I think he would bite you often. He won't do it enough to make you feel weak or fatigued, but he does it at least weekly. He believes you're his divinity right? Well, he thinks your blood is sacred too. He'll be praising you over and over again for your blood, saying how he's so grateful. "Oh, my dearest divinity! Your blood is so divine, I'm blessed to be able to even taste a drop!"

——————————————————

I had some ideas but I wasn't sure if it was exactly what was asked of so idk give me a bit more detail just cuz I'm a bit cautious on what I write- (so whoever requested I'll happily answer a 2nd time just idk give me questions lmao)

- Celina

[briliantlymad]

padme time travel plot bunny bouncing in my head

theres a good chunk of time travel fics where obiwan travels back or anakin does. but not enough where padme travels back in time and decides she's not letting her husband and the world she loves go to shit. and just. orchestrates an assasination with her handmaidens. this is padme amidala people i really do think she's capable of handling the entire situation really well. I feel like a padme armed with the knowledge of the future really would do whatever it takes if it meant keeping anakin and her kids safe.

Like i genuinely do believe that the reason padme was willing to leave the republic behind and take anakin with her was cus she was disillusioned with the republic by then. she knew anakin was a symptom of a failing republic not the cause. and at that point she'd forgiven him so much what's another thing to the list? she's back in time, she's not going to hold anakin responsible for crimes he's yet to commit, there's good in him. she knows he's capable of far greater good than he thinks himself to be.

palpatine is dead and she thinks everything will be ok now she doesnt have to worry much about the clone wars cus she knows what to do and anakin's capable of a lot when he doesnt have a snake whispering in his ear. i just want her to have a good chunk of time where she believes that with palpatine out of the way things will go back to the normal. that palpatine and his schemes was the only reason democracy fell to an empire and the clone wars continued as long as they did. and for a time they do.

Anakin gets to come home to her more often. she's able to gather support for her bills as the time passes. but. things aren't moving as fast as she'd like. she understands that progress takes time but with palpatine out of the way things should've gotten significantly easier. only its not. the rot runs deeper, its entrenched in the very soul of the republic.

and i need her to be completely annoyed and angry as things only get worse as and Dooku comes out on top and maul is still causing problems all over the galaxy. its in a sith's nature to take their master's place. so it doesnt make much difference to dooku. in fact. he's glad for it. now he can carry out his grand plans for an ailing republic and show the order how far astray they've gone without palpatine looming over his shoulder.

anyway i dont really know where i'm going with this. i'd like to think she'd try for the chancellorship and fall down into the alure of power for the right reasons. what's the harm in using the ill gotten powers of palpatine's chancellorship if she's doing it for the greater good of the republic?

on the other hand, padme is just as likely to pack her shit up and grab anakin and leave as things continue to crumble. and when an empire forms as she'd predicted only with dooku at its head. she's far better prepared with her rebellion and less jedi die. more disaster control cus she probably wont be able to prevent the fall of the republic on her own

[makeyoumine69]

Ok so I was wondering if you can please do an extreme Dubcon Patrick smut and he’s very mean and likes blowjobs

DAMN, YES! This man loves deepthroat blowjobs for sure, even if you don't, lmao😈

— NSFW, my Masterlist is here🖤

Your muffled screams echoed through Patrick's fancy office, but no one could hear you or help you as the two of you were stuck alone and now, he was abusing your throat while you were on your knees, pressed against his expensive wooden table.

"Stop whining, bitch," Bateman snarled, yanking on your hair and thrusting his hips roughly into your face. "You've been asking for this… for so fucking long."

"Mmm-enough, please-mmm…" Your pitiful pleas for mercy only spurred him on to push himself as deep as he could, leaving you literally choking on his thick dick.

"Don't even try," he laughed, leaning on the table above your head for support so he could facefuck you even harder. "Thought you were smarter than me, huh?"

Sobbing, you attempted to grab on his hips, but he immediately brushed your hands away, squeezing your jaw painfully as he was so close to his high from the feeling of your hot mouth encasing his huge cock so perfectly.

"I … mmm, s-sorry," your words were barely understandable. "Daddy…"

"No, no, no, slut, that won't work," he said sharply, clutching your nostrils and pressing them together, taking your breath away completely and making you tremble in his firm grip. "You like that, bitch? I'm going to cum all over your fucking face! And you will thank me for that!"

Patrick grinned as he saw you twitching like a trapped kitten before he released your nose and rammed into your mouth almost to his heavy balls, forcing you to stick your nails into your soft skin from the unpleasant sensation in your throat. It was a fucking miracle you didn't gag, but you were so damn close when he finally reached his orgasm and shot his warm cum all over your face.

"F-fuck, yeah …" Bateman stroked himself to the last drop, admiring the sight of your mauled face.

"Th-Thank you, Daddy." You gasped pathetically, your closed eyes full of tears.

"Don't just sit there! Clean up this mess, and quickly."

Breathing heavily, you licked off all of his dense cum from your face, helping yourself with your trembling fingers, feeling so disgusted and humiliated that you literally wanted to sink into the ground … but he wouldn't let you, he never would, because you were his favourite toy.

[independent-variables]

HELLO !!!

Having now finished binging all of your star wars fics, I come here asking for some recs. Just any of your favourites, bonus points if it will cause emotions (and tears).

Also can't stress enough how much I love your writing, it's so so brilliant <3

(this is neptunesenceladus btw, tumblr hates me and won't let me send asks with a side blog so you get this one)

HI!!! Good to see you, good to see you <3 Always happy to provide recs <3 <3 <3

I want you to know I went through my bookmarks and pulled like sixty fics and had a brief moment of panic, so this is not all of my recs just the first... thirty, or so. If none of these are appealing, oh boy, do I have more!

This list is not in any order other than bookmark order, most are on the shorter side, most are Gen and I am pretty sure all are complete. I tried to warn for stuff that could be a squick when I remembered.

False Dichotomy by nsmorig

Starting off strong with my favorite Cody fic of all time. If you read nothing else on this list I encourage you to read this (if the tags are not a squick) because it will re-shape your brain and shatter your heart into tiny pieces. Basic premise is Force Sensitive Cody gets captured by Dooku and survives torture, experimentation, and imprisonment while trying to figure out his relationship to the Force and to his personhood, and the ways those things are connected. 

What's in a Name by Sankt

This is about Fordo post war and it’s phenomenal characterization. 

The Last Poem of Jedha by schweinsty

How Bohdi Rook becomes a rebel and writes a poem. 

you're like a loaded gun by kazhan

Ok this is E and also Underage, so maybe it’s a skip, but it’s teen Boba/Cal trying to navigate sex and love and secret identities and it’s so fucked up and so good. 

chicken, cattle and cat by deniigiq

Obi-Wan and Maul living in domestic dis-harmony on Tatooine. What more could you ask. 

Little things [are the reason to live] by i_will_bite

Clone medics navigating a slightly hostile working environment and trying to make it less hostile T-T

Two brothers (and a kid) by meerlicht

What if. Waxer and Boil just stayed on Ryloth, with Numa. What then? 

with poise, with grace by andeemae

Stone falls through a hole in a roof and falls in love. Beautiful clone/OC romance and very cute kids, doesn’t shy away from the difficulties of being a clone in love with a civilian. Very much an inspiration for me.

second time around by This_world_of_beautiful_monsters

This is another one I wasn’t sure I wanted to put on here because it deals briefly with rape, but it’s such a wonderfully fucked up take on Anakin and Rex’s relationship. Or, how Vader views Rex. 

The Desert Storm by Blue_Sunshine

If you are looking for an epically long series to get invested in I highly recommend checking this one out. This series and its sister-series are some of the best characterization and worldbuilding for Jedi I have ever had the pleasure of reading and it is a fix-it in all the messy, hard, terrible ways people don’t usually write fix-its. 

Shape-Changer by Fialleril

This is a foundational fic for me. Incredible Tatooine worldbuilding. Inspired me to write the way I write. 

The Sun Is Bright, The Sun Is Blue by ambiguously

CUT AND SU ORIGIN STORY!!! 

most things may never happen: this one will by jaigeye

This is brutal but what if you were a droid and you had to dissect a person. 

Bad Deal by FettsOnTop (GTFF)

Boba/Lando my beloved. A brief look into their relationship and into Lando’s thoughts leading up to Han and them’s arrival. 

and the Force is with me by sauntering_down

Rex and Ahsoka and the way the war changed them, and what they can and cannot do in the aftermath. 

Twilight on Owl Creek Bridge by yellow_caballero

The Fox fic of all time. What if you were trapped in a time-loop with a ghost from the future but your life is so monotonous and simultaneously bizarre you don’t even notice. 

Fishhooks by yellow_caballero

The Boba fic of all time. This author does not write much for SW but every time they do it’s iconic. What if you were a teenager running away from home but also a perfect clone of your father created to be him but better but also his because you will never escape his body and his ownership and his love. What then. 

Staring into open flame by SLWalker

This is such a beautiful and heartbreaking read, it’s basically exploring what would have to happen for Maul and Obi-Wan to have a genuinely healthy and happy relationship post murder and bisection. 

Energy Drink Fox by carrinth

The crack comic of all time. What if Fox had space Monster.

lost cause by catboydogma

The foundational Dogma fic. The fic that got me wondering about how clones spend their time on Coruscant. 

the married au by dharmaavocado

Clone rebellion my beloved. Basic premise is the clones took over Kamino and then went out into the galaxy as a mercenary army of sorts. Rex and Cody are finding their place in the world, creating business partnerships, falling in love, manipulating public perception of clones. (Background clonecest, not between Rex and Cody.)

[zeenmrala]

pairing: lord maul x gn!reader word count: 850 summary: lord maul interrupts your nighttime stroll in the woods  a/n: soft soft soft with a sprinkling of angst. yes its a forest and a moon ok im consistent if anything. feels good to be back ♡

Serenity ☾

The night you feel his hands for the first time, the moon is a beacon of hazy light in the darkness of the sky, the full power of its cosmic glow restricted by thick clouds that stubbornly linger around it, as though they refuse to leave her naked and bare to the mercy of an army of stars. The air is rich with the scent of moss, the cool breeze sensual on your skin, the taste of fresh earthy water lingering in the damp air. You are meandering in the forest by taking slow and lazy steps further and further into the depths of the trees. You clear your head. The nighttime is of freedom, a time of agency that you cannot claim anywhere else.

You sense him before you see him. Feel him. His hard eyes, heavy and imposing on your back. Then you hear the whirring mechanics of his cybernetics, the usual mechanical thud of each metal footstep softened to a quiet thump by the dirt of the forest floor. You turn around, taking in the shadow of him, the gleam of his eyes, the overbearing darkness of his presence.

“What is it you seek?” Maul asks softly, sensing your motivations for being here. His voice is a rich purr, each word he uses more decadent than the last. 

There is a pause as you acclimate to his presence, and he moves slowly forward.

“Peace, my Lord,” you whisper honestly, bravely. You are aware that your response will infuriate him. “I seek peace.”

He has sauntered close enough that you can now see his lips pull into a muted smile. “You believe such a…notion exists?”

“You do not?” you counter coyly, your eyebrow slightly raised in genuine curiosity. 

He is silent for a time as he considers you. His eyes grow darker. 

“What is it you believe?” He almost spits the question, his chronic fury tainting the sentence. He avoids the word. Peace: he cannot seem to say it. The word he views only as a mockery of his existence. 

 “Choice.” Your voice quivers in the face of his bitter anger. He grunts in disapproval, but you persevere. “Peace is chosen.”

You can sense him as he seethes at your words, but you are overwhelmed with your own sentiment. You swallow your fear and step forward, taking his hands in yours in one swift movement. You squeeze his gloved fingers as you pour all the comfort you wish to give him into his eyes through your own.

“Just tonight,” you implore him, “let me choose.”

He scowls in response, though he does not pull away.

“It’s here,” you take his right hand in both of yours, hastily removing his glove. “Peace is here, for me. I can take it. It’s in your skin.”

He suddenly turns rigid, and you begin to hesitate, doubting how forward you are being tonight. How inappropriate. You let go of his hand and lower your eyes. You hear nothing for a few agonising moments, your focus centres only on the softness of his breathing. Then you hear a brief rustling. Heat burns your cheeks in embarrassment, at a loss of what to do next.

He takes your hands, both of his hands gloveless, his bare skin now touching yours. You feel a dropping sensation sear through your middle, disbelief roaring in your ears. You cannot seem to bring your eyes to his, not in such an unprecedented, intimate moment. So you look at his skin, interpret the stories told in every line, scar, tattoo.

You absorb his hands in a rush of detail beneath the bleary moon. Each of his fingers are varying shades of discoloured crimson, faded pink in places, and the broken washed-out ink of his tattoos are uneven and aged. His nails are long, dark and sharp. His palms are coarse and rough, the least pigmented in colour, the repeated use of his weapon and the years of his life having worn down the vibrancy of his skin tone. You imagine the durasteel of his saber to be stained red in return. You envision the years of his life, so rich with the scarlet that has been leached from his hands, a trail of blood red anguish representing all of that life that has been stolen from him.

You take his wrist and place his palm to your cheek, relishing in the consoling warmth of his skin. Your heart fastens in pace and your breath quickens as he takes your hand and mirrors your movement. You feel the gentle ruggedness of his face beneath your own palm. You stand together, silently entwined in the most intimate of interactions either of you have ever experienced.

You bring yourself to look up and into his eyes: they are glowing, blazing with a promise of regret. A storm of frustration and resentment. They ache with the words that he can never speak, could never speak. He is incompatible with serenity. And yet, he does not drop your hand.

Then the night stretches on, into forever and the void, both timeless and brief all at once. 

darth maul taglist: (like this post to be added, message me to be removed):

@elledjarin @gggoldfinch @corona-one @kimageddon @seriowan @gran-maul-seizure  @downinthewater @bisexymaul @sp00kworm @hvngmanstrick @aurora1145 @maulslittlemeowmeow @bubblyfishbro @jo-addario @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @x-kiwi-03 @didntseethatcoming04 @mandoleksiak @edlix @wordsfromshona @gods-and-monsterss @ratwebkinz @asheffectx @moonstrider9904 @geminisupremacy @justalittletomato @eyecandyeoz @just-an-anxious-ball-of-flesh @okaycryptid @nightsister-juisid @wingofshadow @netherlady @echuta-mando @lazarithebellydancingmime @hellscapenerd @itsagrimm @mommymao @morganlefaye13 @zakotocinclus @jedimastersovi @cuttlefjsh @ahoeformando @obiwanshusband @cadbanecringecompilation @audacityjuice @remoireobsidian @writercels @stardustbee @daisydayssss

(if you aren’t tagged and have liked my taglist post, it is because i do not know how old you are).

[bestworstcase]

some thoughts—messy ones—abt this beat:

this moment gets brought up with… honestly surprising regularity when people want to make a point about cinder being -redeemable- because she is, obviously, freaked out here. and like i don’t disagree that this scene and this specific beat in particular is doing really critical work to set up cinder’s villain->hero arc (not redemptive) but i do think “see! she’s repulsed by his wanton brutality!” is an odd and kind of reductive way to parse what’s happening here bc

that

is

a

grimm

thats a grimm. cinder reveled in the mass hysteria and violence she authored at the fall of beacon, personally reduced ozpin to a charred smear on the floor, and murdered a seventeen year old child in cold blood and gloated about it later. her first and only coping mechanism for Feels Bad is Killing People. it sparks joy. but she can’t stomach the sight of her coworker mauling a grimm.

ok? context is important. zoom out—

this is how salem’s training her—trying to train her—to mastery of the grimm arm. just throwing grimm at her until she reflexively falls back on her human arm, and then drops.

enough. i thought you were the girl who wanted power. stop holding back. if you want to master your new power, you must—

enter tyrian. and then for the whole dialogue between him and salem cinder gets framed like this:

folds hands.

the point of this scene is that cinder did lie to salem; she is not The Girl Who Wanted Power. what did she tell rhodes after she killed the madame? “i won’t have to run now.” she wants a home. she wants to be safe. she wants freedom. she believes—because the world has never given her a reason to believe otherwise—that becoming powerful is the only way she can ever get what she wants. but she does not, per se, want power.

and salem does not understand this because cinder has hitherto been very careful to keep her true motivation hidden, primarily because the last time she showed vulnerability her quasi-parental mentor immediately drew on her and shattered her ability to trust into a billion itty bitty pieces. cinder is, throughout this scene, very careful not to let salem see any of the stricken or pleading looks that the audience gets to see.

stop holding back.

tyrian interrupts when he does because salem can’t see through the mask cinder has presented to her (and is frustrated because she therefore can’t understand why cinder is being so timid with the phenomenal power she used to, it bears repeating, literally wipe the floor with ozpin)—and because what cinder takes from all of this is that salem wants her to be more brutal, like tyrian. there’s a reason cinder starts practicing on illusory rubys after this and why she’s frustrated and confused by salem’s judicious tactics in V5.

see? the beginning is the end and the end is the beginning; the scene is mirrored and tyrian is the looking glass. this:

is the guilt later renewed as horror:

there’s layers to cinder having this empathetic response to grimm when grimm are subjected to violence. obviously part of it is that cinder herself is grimm, at least in part, and that identification is conspicuously made present in the scene—

—but it goes beyond that. “you turned yourself into a monster just for power”/“look who’s talking.” think about how tenderly cinder says “shh, this is your home now” to the wyvern in V3. grimm are not the monsters in cinder’s story; they never have been. the abuse she suffered from her own kind was so horrific and unrelenting that it engendered a sense of kinship with the grimm. before she got that arm she was stitching grimm markings into the sleeves of her dress.

but insofar as this beat and this scene is integral to cinder’s nascent villain->hero arc the load-bearing pillar here is the contradiction between cinder’s notional aspiration (power) and her true motivation (freedom safeguarded by power), and the way her identification with and empathy for the grimm are tied up in that and the manner in which she tries to give salem what she thinks salem wants from her (i.e. be more like tyrian). which all comes back around with this ->

notably in 8.6 salem not only recants her harsh treatment of cinder since cinder returned but also reverses the things she says to cinder in 4.11. “i thought you were the girl who wanted power […] then stop holding back” -> “you’ve fought your whole life unwaveringly for what you want, and here i am holding you back instead of lifting you up.”

basically the rivalry between cinder and tyrian pulls a lot of symbolic weight because what tyrian represents vis-a-vis the salem-cinder dynamic is their shared misunderstanding of each other; salem accepts the ruthless power-hunger at face value and cinder reads into salem’s frustration a desire for cinder to be more brutal and both of them are incorrect. the framing of the disciplinary/apology scene in 8.6 communicates the shifting paradigm in part by adjusting his prominence in the composition of key shots before and after the pivot. and then salem sends him away to babysit the c-lister in vacuo.

point being the narrative development toward cinder’s villain->hero arc is also the narrative development toward salem’s villain->hero arc because they are structurally interdependent and constructed as a set; they’re meant to happen together and because of each other. that’s the trajectory. also cinder is keeping the arm and salem is not getting ungrimmed thank you goodnight

[eddie-van-munson]

Lightning Bolts (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: (Hurt/Comfort) You haven't touched Eddie since he came home from the hospital. He assumes it's because you're disgusted by the way he looks, covered in scars from the Upside Down, but that couldn't be further from the truth. In reality, you're just afraid of losing him again.

Warnings: Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Triggers, Eddie has Scars from the Demobat Attack and Dislikes Them, Anxiety/PTSD, Talk of Death, Series Typical Violence, Spoilers, Cursing.

Requested by: @mazzeeeliz (a fic inspired by the song "A Love Like Ours" by Aron Wright). I found most of my inspiration from the line, "This isn't the end, It's only a season. A love like ours will never die." This fic is kind of all over the place though jdbfnd I'm so sorry.

(Medical Triggers: Eddie is in the Hospital after the Demobat attack. Non-Descript Mentions of Wounds, Injections, Blood etc.)

***********

"Why's it-? Hurts... hurts. It's...Fuck..."

Eddie's head wasn't there yet when his eyes finally opened. He couldn't get many words out, just a mumbled assortment of curses, whimpers, and slurred questions. His dark brows were furrowed with confusion as he weakly tried to pull the IV from his arm and tug his bandages off. He struggled against Steve pitifully when he reached out to stop him, his mind still disoriented and half asleep, but he was too frail to fight it. Your throat tightened at the sight of fear clouding in his eyes. You didn't like it. Not at all.

You'd been so desperate to see those pretty brown eyes open again. You'd wanted to hear his voice.

But now they were open, and when you searched for any sort of coherence or recognition in them, there was nothing.

He was speaking, but no words were there. Only croaked sobs and hoarse indications of pain.

Eddie wasn't awake yet. Not really. You almost wished he was asleep again, if only so he wouldn't hurt. He wouldn't be afraid.

You took his hand in yours as you stood beside him, Steve holding his other one to keep him from hurting himself. You hushed him softly as tears filled his big dark eyes, reaching up to feel his head. He was still warm from infection, but he was better. "It's ok, baby. You're safe. Just relax." You hummed as his breathing slowed. "There we go...that's it."

You dragged your fingertip over his face soothingly, tracing around his forehead and down across his nose. He calmed, staring up at you as you traced his cupid's bow and around his jaw.

"I know you're afraid, sweetheart. You don't know where you are, do you? Or why you're hurting..." You cooed to him gently. "You probably don't even know who we are, yet. But we're going to make it feel better, ok? Just gotta relax, for me."

He eased as you stroked his hair, running your fingers through his tangled curls. Some of the fear faded from his expression, leaving fogginess in his drug blown pupils. You brushed a tear from his cheek.

"Are you hurting bad?" You kept your voice steady and calm, holding his gaze. He gave a  dizzy nod. "Ok, angel. We'll find you some more medicine."

You hadn't been able to take him to the hospital. There'd been a hundred reasons why, the least of which being that he immediately would have been arrested for three counts of murder. He'd be sent to prison as soon as he healed. That is, if he healed. Small town doctors and nurses weren't exactly trained on procedures related to inter-dimensional bat maulings.

Instead, you took him to the lab, praying the whole way that there was something they could do. That you'd make it in time.

He'd been unconscious for days, his torn body pumped with drugs to keep him asleep and stable. They'd given him an emergency blood transfusion, and it was the longest 12 hours of your life. You paced the hallway, waiting. Waiting to see if his body would accept the transfusion. Waiting to see if they could knit him back together. Waiting to see if he'd live through the night.

You sobbed in relief when they said he was stable enough for you to see him. They'd decided put him under, which was dangerous in the state he was in, but it had to be done. It would have been cruel to risk him waking up like this, and he needed to be kept still and at rest to aid him in healing.

It'd been a few days, now, and Owens was starting to transition him off of the general anesthetic. He'd warned you it would take him a while to get his head back, if it came back at all. There was a possibility it wouldn't after that kind of physical trauma. You didn't let yourself even consider that possibility.

He was under sedation still, but it was more to keep his muscles relaxed and ease him awake. Even though he was conscious, he wouldn't remember. He was stuck in between sleep and awake. Owens called it "twilight".

You could see him thinking, his tired eyes searching your face and the room as if it were a puzzle to solve. He stared at you, brow furrowed like it was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't quite make the connection. You held his hand for a long time, soothing him as tears rolled down his flushed cheeks.

"Y/N." It was practically a whisper. His voice was hoarse, but it was there.

The relief that spread over you was like a warm, sweet tidal wave. "That's right, baby. You starting to come back to us?"

Steve stood when he heard him speak, only to return a moment later with a glass of water. Eddie stared up at him as you gave a soft 'thanks', studying his friend in quiet confusion. Steve smiled, giving him a little wave. "Hey, man."

Eddie's paused, his expression relaxing, and swallowed thickly. You could have cried when he spoke, again. His voice was so small and pitiful, "Hey."

He sounded like a scared little boy.

His sweet, sleepy brown eyes found yours again, and you frowned, grazing your thumb along his chapped lips protectively. "You want some water, baby?"

He took a moment to process, but gave a slow nod, his hand coming up to reach for the glass.  You held it for him, helping him take slow sips.

"Y/N..." He murmured, squirming weakly in his sheets. "Hurts."

"I know, sweet boy. It'll feel better soon, I promise." You glanced to Steve and he nodded, leaving to get the nurses. Eddie whined softly and glanced around, as if he was trying to find what was causing the pain.

For the first time, he saw himself. Really saw himself. He was covered in bandages, countless lines of stitches scattering over the few parts of him he could see. The bites. You watched his eyes as he realized the state he was in, a few pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. Immediately his breathing started to quicken with panic. A sob escaped his throat, his hand trembling where you held it, and he gave you a panicked look.

"I've got you, Eds. It's ok..."

His lower lip quivered when he exhaled, tears welling over and rolling down his cheeks. He scrunched his face uncomfortably, voice cracking. "Hurts...it hurts."

 "Hey..." You fought your own tears as you cradled his chin, making him look up at you. His pulse sped as you guided him in slow breaths. "They're coming to fix it, baby. I've got you."

"Make me go to sleep. Please. Please make me sleep." His voice was rough. He squeezed your hand, giving another little sob. "I don't want to look at it."

Your lip quivered as you held his face in your hands, trying to keep him from upsetting himself further. His beautiful brown eyes were so full of pain it made you feel ill. You choked pitifully, "I love you so much, Eds. I'm sorry. I'm...I'm so sorry." 

The door opened. Steve and the nurse.

"What's wrong?" Steve took one of Eddie's hands, trying to relax him. You couldn't answer. Vaguely, you could hear the nurse talking to Steve. He's panicking. You brushed the tears from his cheeks as you watched the nurse prepare a sedative from the corner of your eye. It's better to put him back to sleep. His heart rate is getting too high. Steve flashed you a concerned look as he reached out to take hold of Eddie's bicep. Can you keep him still for me? Eddie clung to Steve's forearm where he held him, inhaling sharply at the injection. He tensed in your arms, and you hushed him sweetly as he went still.

"We've got you, Eds." Steve's brow furrowed as he watched his body sink slowly. "That's it."

You cradled him against you as you watched his eyes finally go empty, his head lulling back. Slowly, you let him go, allowing his body to fully relax into the mattress before immediately breaking into sobs. Steve rushed to you, pulling you into a tight hug, but the words still echoed in your head.

It hurts. Make me go to sleep. I don't want to look at it.

***********

Months Later

Eddie was desperate to be touched. He ached for it.

He'd healed. His stitches had come out, leaving hundreds of scars. The bites were hardly visible to anyone but himself now, but the larger wounds on his ribs and chest were dark and un-ignorable. And they always would be.

Eddie hated them. He hated every last one of them. He hated the memories they gave him of blinding pain and the feeling of blood soaking his clothes. But more than that, he hated how they looked.

He knew it sounded stupid. Vain, even. But he'd never been very happy with his appearance in the first place. He'd learned to live with his looks Sophomore year, when he'd grown his hair out, but he'd never liked his face or his body. He was always too lanky. Too pasty. Too thin in some places and too soft in others. Too many acne scars and stretch marks.

But now? He'd kill to look the way he used to. It made him sick to think he'd ever complained about it in the first place, because you hadn't touched him since he left that lab.

The government had pulled some strings, airing news stories all over Hawkins.

Man Found with Murder Weapon: A Breakthrough for The Cunningham Case

Finally Behind Bars! Hawkins Breathes a Sigh of Relief!

Justice is Served in Local Murder Cases

They gave a name and a picture, some guy no one had ever seen before, and that was that. The town was appeased and no one really went to jail. No more Munson Murders.

Still, Eddie stayed inside with you at the apartment you shared, too sickened by the idea of stares. It was a new feeling for him. He'd always welcomed the stares. He couldn't, anymore.

He'd been out once. He went to the grocery store down the street for cigarettes and milk. A little girl stared at him in the grocery isle, and he didn't think much of it at first. Kids stared at him a lot. They thought his clothes were funny. He smiled at her, giving her a little wave. Without warning, her eyes went wide, terror filling them when she realized he was looking at her. Tears welled in her big baby blues as she broke into cries at the sight of him, hiding her face in her mother's leg. Her mother looked over, picking her daughter up and soothing her as she mouthed an apology.

He hadn't left the house since. Every time he thought he could, he imagined those big blue eyes filling with tears.

You took care of him, though. You were patient. You listened. You let him cry. A lot. But you didn't touch him.

You'd only hold him in your sleep, rolling over and wrapping your arms around him tightly as you murmured nonsense. It was heaven, every time. He waited so patiently for you to fall asleep each night so he could pull you into his arms and feel your skin, warm against his.

The only time you still wanted him was when your eyes were closed. He tried not to let that hurt his feelings. He didn't blame you.

Today marked another month. Eddie didn't want the alarm to go off. He wanted you to stay in his arms, snuggled in against the crook of his neck where you still loved him. Where you still wanted him.

He kissed your forehead, traveling down to your nose, and you curled in closer. He smiled, gathering your locks up off your nape as he laid you down against the mattress. You barely stirred. Slowly, as not to scare you, he nuzzled his face in your neck, letting his hand lace through your hair and cradle your head. His lips were warm and soft as he peppered them over the sensitive skin of your throat. You moaned softly, head tilting back. A hot breath fanned your skin as he breathed a relieved sob, letting his kisses deepen. You hummed his name breathlessly, your fingers lacing in his curls.

He gave a gorgeous sound as you searched for friction against him, needily. He groaned, pushing your baby hairs back off of your forehead as your sleepy eyes fluttered open. Lazily, you slid your palm up his chest and over his throat, gazing your thumb over his cheek as you pulled him down into a kiss. He felt like he was going to pass out, he was in such bliss. You were warm and gentle with him, and you'd just found his soft spot right below his ear when your kisses slowed to a stop. A scar. It was tiny, just two faint spots from the fangs of a bat, but it was there. Your stomach went cold.

 It hurts. Make me go to sleep. I don't want to look at it.

Suddenly, your skin felt icy. You were looking into his pained eyes, watching him beg you to be put under. You were putting pressure against his shoulder, praying and sobbing as he choked on his own blood. You were outside the trailer, watching him be shredded by a million bats. Hearing him scream.

You tensed, and Eddie immediately stopped, pulling back. He looked you over, concern furrowing his brow, "What's wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?"

"No...no I'm..." You pulled your shirt on, and the mattress dipped as you stood, headed towards the closet. "I'm late for work."

He frowned, glancing towards the alarm clock. It hadn't even gone off yet. "Babe, you've still got an hour before you've got to leave."

You blanched, fumbling for an answer as you hit a button the alarm clock, cancelling it. "I know I just...um...I wanted to get there early. There's some stuff that needs done.

He wanted to cry. "Y/N..."

You turned to him, your heart aching when you saw the look on his face.

"I need you talk to me." His shoulders were slumped, his arms wrapped around himself where he sat in bed. "I feel like you've got a million things going on in your head lately and I don't have any idea what a single one of them is."

He looked so small. So insecure and hurt. You sat in front of him, taking his hand in your own as you tucked one of his curls behind his ear.

"I just..." You took a shaky breath. "I don't think we should do anything too physical yet, Eds. You're still healing."

"I need you to touch me." He croaked, tears stinging his nose. "I need it. And if you don't want to touch me, I understand that. I know you didn't sign up to be with Freddie Kruger, but I need you to tell me that if that's the case. I can't keep holding out hope that you'll want me again."

You shook your head, your stomach knotting sickly as your jaw dropped, "Eddie no...God no, Eddie. That's not it. That's not it at all. I-...I don't want to hurt you, baby."

"I'm healed. I've...I've been stitched up. Everything is closed and strong, again. Owens said." He sniffled, rubbing at his tear stained cheeks. "I...I need you. If you still want me, then I need you. I need you to hug me after work again. I need you to kiss me goodnight and make love to me. I need you to hold me on the couch when we watch movies. I need things to be normal because I don't...I don't feel human anymore."

"Eddie..." Your eyes finally brimmed over as Eddie gave a sob. Trembling, you crawled into his lap. His arms wrapped around you so tight it nearly hurt. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You bury your head in his shoulder. "I'm afraid. 'm just afraid. I can't bear to see you in anymore pain, Eds."

You'd been distant. You knew you had been. For months you'd longed to touch him, but the fears in your head deterred you from even trying. Every time you found yourself wanting to let your hands wander, your head clouded with thoughts.

What if he reopens a wound? What if his heart can't handle that yet? What if he's in pain but he's too embarrassed to tell me?

You'd been so terrified to hurt him that you hadn't realized you were doing exactly that. Hurting him. You'd been neglecting him for months, all in the name of keeping him safe.  You'd left him thinking you didn't want him. That his body was too marred to be desirable to you.

"Look at me...Look at me." You held his jaw firmly in your hands as his breathing steadied, his warm, glossy brown eyes watching you.  Your thumb grazed over his cheek, "There's not been a moment where I haven't wanted you."

You said it sternly, leaving no room for negotiation. Eddie shook his head, his forehead creasing with confusion. "I don't understand."

You sighed, guiding him to lay his head against your chest. He gave a shakey breath, taking in your body warmth and the feel of your hands in his hair as he listened to your heartbeat.

"They had to restart your heart." You struggled to say it, an ache churning inside you at the memory of his body jolting under the charged paddles. "They had to pump you full of drugs and keep you asleep...You were so fragile, baby. Never knew if you'd make it through the night..." You held him tighter, comforting yourself. "You could've left me at any moment."

Eddie rubbed your back, sweetly. He clung to you, as if he were trying to protect you from your own memories.

"And when you came to you..." You choked a little, trying to take a deep breath. "Your eyes were so empty at first...and then you were in so much pain. You begged me to make you go to sleep."

Eddie's chest lurched. You'd never told him that, before. He imagined, momentarily, how he'd have felt if it had been you laying in that bed instead of him. He immediately went nauseous.

"I felt like I was torturing you. Keeping you alive with tubes and machines and drugs just because I wanted you to stay. Owens told me the moment he saw you that it might be more humane to let you go...but I couldn't do it, Eddie."

Eddie pulled back to look at you with big sweet eyes.

 "And then you were better and you were home. I didn't want to let myself get used to having you. I felt like the universe was going to play some cruel joke and take you away again. It'd been touch and go for so long. You were so fragile. If something happened...I wouldn't be able to keep going if I lost you again, sweetheart."

You gave a quiet sob as he reached up to brush away your tears.

"I've wanted you so bad for so long, but I'm so scared. I don't want to risk hurting you." You kissed the top of his hair, "I thought if I didn't touch you I couldn't hurt you, but I did. I hurt you so bad, Eddie. Made you feel unwanted. Made you feel like you aren't the most beautiful boy I've ever seen."

"You don't have to say that."

"I'm not saying it because I have to, baby." You rubbed your eyes. "I mean it. I mean it so fucking much."

You were in awe of him as you sat in his lap, his cheeks still pink and his eyelashes stuck together with tears. He pressed a kiss to the pad of your finger as you traced his lips.

Your voice was barely whisper when you spoke again, "Sometimes I wake up before you do, and the sun is just starting to rise...the heat from it turns your nose pink."

He smiled softly, and you can't help but smile too.

"Most of the time you're still dreaming. You talk in your sleep, Eds. Did you know that? You make the sweetest little sounds. The funniest faces."

He watched you as you replayed a memory in your head.

"I could watch you forever like that. Warm and sleepy and happy...God, you're so pretty, angel. You're so pretty. You're perfect. I'll say it a million times a day now, huh? I'm not gonna let you forget it ever again. I've wanted you so bad, sweetheart. You have no idea."

Eddie was breathless, his throat tight. "I'm sorry."

Your brow furrowed, "For what?"

"I should've realized something else was going on." His voice was rocky with emotion. "I love you. I know you. You'd never stop loving me over something like this. I wasn't fair to you. I just..." He bit his lip. "Everything changed between us and when I look in the mirror, I don't like what I see. I just assumed you didn't like it either."

You pulled him close, kissing his forehead and his nose, "Eddie Munson, you could have horns and green skin and I'd still want you. I mean it. You've got me whipped. You could have feathers sprouting out your ass."

His eyes welled as you gave him a sweet kiss. He murmured against your lips, his tightening throat making his words hoarse, "What if it's worse than that?"

You pulled back, crooking your brow, "Worse than feathers sprouting out your ass?"

He laughed softly, wiping tears on the back of his hand as he sniffled. "You haven't had a look at me in a while. I didn't exactly...heal well."

You stroked his hair, looking concerned. "What do you mean by that? Do you still hurt?"

"No. The marks are-"

"The marks? Your scars? Is that what this is about?"

He nodded, swallowing, and gave a humorless laugh. "Like I said. Freddie Kruger."

Your heart sank as he poked fun at himself, trying to cover up his own insecurity. You shook your head, resting against his chest as you toyed with the collar of his shirt. He used to sleep without one, but he'd grown to favor throwing on a Megadeath shirt he'd accidentally gotten a few sizes too big.

"They're such a comfort to me, Eds."

A comfort. What? Eddie's forehead creased as he looked down at you. They usually did the opposite for him.

"How?" His voice was shy, as if he still halfway expected rejection.

"I saw you torn up, Eds. You bled out in my arms. I can't tell you how good it is to see where your body has healed from that."

Oh. Oh. He'd never thought of it like that.

"I have nightmares a lot." You hummed, quietly. "When I wake up scared I can just trace your arms. Look over you." You hold his hand to you, admiring the swirling dips that'd been forever carved into his skin. "I thought some of these would kill you. But you're still here, and all that's left of the hurt is just..." You trailed off, smiling softly as you admired him. "Lightning bolts."

He exhaled, amazed. "Lightning bolts."

"Silver and pink..."  You drew the jagged line  across his forearm, looking up at him. "Can I see the one on your heart?"

You hadn't seen it up close since it had healed. Maybe you'd caught a glimpse or two of it while he changed, but you wanted to touch him. Fear still bubbled in your chest at the idea of your hands on him, but the want in his expression eased it.

He laid back against the pillows, curls mussing as he tugged the large shirt up over his head. Your insides fluttered. You were straddling his hips now, your hands tentatively creeping up over his belly as a warmth settled low in your tummy. "Oh, sweetheart..." 

He was gorgeous. The deep, rosy tear ran right right up to his collarbone, tapering at the ends. The tattoo on his chest had been nearly split in half by it. He stared up at you as you touched him. Admired him. He could see that you liked what you saw. That you wanted it. He could feel it, too.

Heat was starting to pool between your legs where he was pressed against you. It'd been so long. This sweet boy wanted you so bad, and it'd been so long.

"Eddie..." His palms slid up your thighs, giving you a squeeze as they rested there. "Can I tell you something?" You planted your hands on his abdomen.

He nodded, unable to find words. The sensation of your body warmth against his middle was making him feel dizzy and drunk.

"I've missed having you inside me, Eddie." He groaned at your whisper, and your cheeks heated as you sat pressed against his bulge. Your panties were getting damp against his boxers. "Sometimes, I'd lock myself in the bathroom and-"

He bucked weakly against you and you gasped, searching for friction with a few rocks of your hips. His throat went dry. "What did you do, Y/N?"

"Touched myself."

"Jesus baby..."

He thrusted up against you, bouncing you in his lap a little. You gasped at the feeling, biting your lip.

"I did it too." He choked out, trying to catch his breath. "I touched myself, too. Got off when you went to work...Y/N, please. Please touch me. Please."

Your eyes went wide as he begged you.

"We can take it slow, have a safe word just in case, I don't care, but I'm so hard. It hurts..."

It hurts. Make me go to sleep. I don't want to look at it.

You tensed, looking down at your love below you. There he was, beautiful and breathing. And there were his scars. You could feel the roughness of them as you traced your fingertips over his skin. Touching all of the places he'd healed. His pretty brown doe eyes looked up at you pleadingly. You took a deep breath, reeling your mind back in, and sat up on all fours.

Eddie's breath quivered as you nuzzled your face against his cock in his boxers, your hot breath making your name fall from his lips like a prayer. You slipped your fingers into his waistband and pulled them down off of his hips, revealing is painfully red cock. He was visibly throbbing, leaking pre-cum onto his sweet soft tummy with every pulse.

"Fuck Eds. Is this all for me?" Tears rolled down his cheeks as he nodded, whimpering as you kissed up his shaft chastely. "I've been neglecting you, haven't I? Made you hurt so bad. I'm so sorry, angel." 

He reached down for your hand.  You thought he was going to wrap it around his length, but instead he laced your fingers with his, needily. Your heart melted.

"Sweet boy...I'm gonna take such good care of you all day. I'll make you feel so good you forget your own name. Do you think that'll make up for it? Is that a good start?" You sucked one of his swollen balls into your mouth, releasing it with a pop.

His stomach tensed with pleasure, "But-"

"I'll call out of work, Eds. Don't worry about that. I've let my angel forget how pretty he is. I need to remind him. That's all I'm worried about, right now."

He gave a little sob, words breaking, "I love you."

"I love you most, pretty. I love you so much." He squeezed your hand, eyes fluttering shut as his body relaxed. "That's it, sweetheart. Just lay back and let your head go dumb for me. I've got you."

You dipped your free hand between your legs, gathering your slick on your fingers and bringing it back up to his cock. You pumped him a few times, smearing yourself over him before dragging your tongue from his base to his head. Eddie's pretty back arched as his brow furrowed with pleasure. He watched you as you sank your throat down onto him, stroking his base as you bobbed on his length messily.

"Whoa, no no no stop. Holy shit, you've gotta stop."

You froze, pulling off of him so fast as panic settled in your belly. You crawled up him to cradle his face, thumbs stroking his flushed cheeks. "Hey, what's wrong baby? What hurts? Is it too much?"

"No, no 'm ok." He rasped. "I was just..." He trailed off, ears going red.

You smiled softly, "What is it, gorgeous?"

He preened under your praise, his eyes squeezing shut, "I just...I was about to..."

"About to cum?" You brushed his baby hairs back out of his face, fondly.

"Yeah", He gave a pitiful laugh, rubbing his eyes. "Nearly creamed myself. I'm surprised I've made it this long. I feel like a blushing virgin."

You grinned, kissing him as you draped your body over his carefully. "Why'd you stop me? You should've taken what you needed."

"I want to be inside you."

You wiggled your eyebrows at him, "I can wait fifteen minutes, angel."

"I can't." He whined pitifully. "Miss you too bad. I'll let you suck my cock later. I promise."

"Oh you will, huh?" He grinned at that. A real, chesire, Eddie-grin. You giggled in spite of yourself.

"Don't be a brat." He groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry." You coo, "I forgot that's your job."

He laughed brightly, reaching down to tickle your sides in retaliation. You squirmed, pulling him into a distracting kiss. He hummed against you, pouting. "I'm a brat now? I thought I was your pretty boy?"

You trailed your lips down his throat, his breath growing ragged as you dragged your tongue over the little bat bite. You nipped at his earlobe, sucking it. "Oh sweetheart, of course you are." You punctuated your words with kisses as you worked your way down to suck his collarbone. "My pretty, sweet, perfect little brat."

Sitting up, you straddled his hips again, rocking back and forth for a moment to push your soaked panties down off of your legs. He groaned deep in his chest at the sight of you, and you smiled, taking his hand in yours.

"Close your eyes, for me." He smiled softly, obeying. You inched up his chest, opening his hand and bringing it between your legs.

"Holy shit..." The moan he gave as his fingers slid through you was so pretty you could have cried, "You're so fucking wet." He let himself explore for a moment before you felt the heel of his palm graze your clit, his index and pinkie fingers pressing into the creases of your thighs . His hand pressed flush against your pelvic bone as he slid up into you, his middle finger hooking inwards against a soft spot below your belly.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie." You squeaked, holding his wrist in place as he fucked you with his thick fingers. "Shit, sweetheart. Those bats could've eaten half your fucking brain and you'd still know how to make me cum on these pretty fingers, wouldn't you?"

He laughed, smiling lazily at the praise. Your eyes scrunched, and he could see your stomach starting to tense as he rubbed small, tight circles directly over your g-spot. Your hips bucked into his hand and he bit the tip of his tongue, brows furrowing with focus as you started to clench around him. You pushed down on his wrist, pulling his fingers from inside you.

He whined, frowning as if you'd deprived him of something, "Why'd you do that for?"

You smirked as you caught your breath, watching him bring his fingers into his mouth to suck them clean. "Because..."

You spread your thighs where you straddled him, lowering your cunt enough to slowly glide your heat over the length of his shaft.

His head pulled back with a moan, and you leaned in, kissing his sweet lips. "...I want to cum on this perfect cock."

He pulled you back down into another kiss, a longer one. "I still feel like I'm dreaming." He whispered, his nose burning. "Feel like I'm gonna wake up and you'll be gone, again."

Pain bled through your chest, your eyes going glossy. "That's how I've felt ever since you came to, Eds."

"Well, if this is a dream..." He cradled your face, his nose nuzzled against yours, lovingly. He offered you his pinkie. "Let's just promise each other we won't ever wake up."

A tear brimmed over, and you brushed it away quickly and hooked your little finger with his. "I love you, so much Eddie Munson." He smiled sweetly, his dimples showing. "If you ever die on me again I'm gonna kill you."

The corner of your mouth tugged, "Not if you behave."

He laughed loudly, his head lulling back. He groaned with a smile, squeezing your thighs. "You're half way there, hovering that pretty cunt over my cock like that. So cruel...You gonna make me beg again?"

He exhaled sharply, bucking his hips, desperately as you reached a hand down to stroke him, lining him up at your entrance.

"Y/N L/N..." He murmured gently, his head lulling back.

"What is it, gorgeous?"

"I love you too."

Your stomach fluttered as you sank onto him, and you were unsure if it was because of the words or from the feeling of him splitting you open. Curses fell from his lips as your brow furrowed, a dull ache forming in your tummy. It'd been too long. Much too long.

"Fuck, sweetheart. I'm not gonna last long." He croaked, his eyes rolling back in his head.

"M-Me neither." You whimpered softly, "This is a lot better than your fingers."

He laughed, and you gasped a little, feeling him move inside you. You chased the sensation, rolling your hips on him. He nudged the same tender spot as before with every movement.

"That's it. Ride me, angel...Feels so fucking good." He babbled weakly as you grinded on him, your slick heat smearing over his lower tummy.

You whimpered softly, a tear rolling down your cheek, "Eddie..."

His hands found your hips, knowing you needed more, and lifted you off of him just enough to drop you back down. He thrusted upwards, bouncing you down onto his cock. Your head fell back, your whimpers going choppy with every thrust of his hips.

"That's it, baby. Let me know how good it feels."

You cried out, the lewd sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin filling the room. His hips against your ass. Deep. Deep. Deep. You felt an ache inside you. An itch that needed scratching.

He pulled you down to lay against his chest, and you could feel him throbbing, his hips still thrusting up into you. Your walls tightened around him.

"Ed-d-d-d-ie" Your voice was small and hoarse, your face buried in the crook of his neck. "I'm..."

"That's it, honey. Cum around my cock. Soak me, sweetheart. I've got you."

"I love you, Eds. I love you so much. I'm close I'm cu-- Oh, Oh, Oh..."

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you went limp, every nerve ending in your body frying into warm TV static as you stomach spammed and pulsed around him. You could distantly hear him moaning as he thrusted into you one, two, three more times. He gasped your name hoarsely, clinging to you as you felt his heat fill your belly.

For a long time you laid there, your bodies smeared with a million different kinds of sin. Neither of you would let go of one another. Eddie whimpered softly as occasional aftershocks made your muscles twitch around him.

He could feel a sticky mixture of cum and wetness starting to drip down onto his hip from your cunt. You locked eyes as he pulled out, reaching down between you to dip two of his fingers inside you. You squirmed a little, but went still as you watched him bring his fingers back up to show you. He hummed softly as he spread them, sticky, glistening strings forming between his coated didgets. He made eye contact as he brought them into his mouth, sucking his fingers clean.

You scrunched your nose, "You're nasty."

Eddie burst into loud laughter grinning, as he rubbed your thighs. He gave a fond hum,  "Nah, baby. We taste good together."

You stared up at him. He could tell he'd made you curious. He crooked his finger and you moved closer, letting him pull you into a dirty, messy kiss. You moaned as your tongue grazed his, and you tasted yourself on him. A thin string of saliva and cum stuck between you when you parted, breaking when you licked your lips. He giggled, gathering some from your chin onto his thumb and letting you kiss it from the pad of his finger.

He gave an wicked grin, "Now you're nasty too."

You rolled your eyes, pressing little kisses to a few of the scars on his chest. Eddie's heart melted as you nuzzled against the marks on his chest, resting your head there. You were quiet for a long time, just enjoying touch again.

"I love you so much." You cooed so softly. He could tell just from your voice that you were falling asleep. "I think you're so beautiful." 

He smiled, cradling your face. "I know you do, baby." He tapped his fingertip on your nose. "I'm sorry I forgot."

"I'm sorry I let you forget."

Your forehead creased with guilt but he tutted, rubbing the furrow from your brow with his thumb. "No no no...that's enough of that. I simply cannot allow you to look so sad after I've just fucked your brains out. It would ruin my reputation."

You fought a laugh, but lost out. "You're such an asshole. I was trying to be sweet."

He grinned, humming. "You're always sweet."

"Is that a problem?" You played with his curls, passively.

 "A huge problem, actually. Wish you'd knock me around a little. Put me in my place, you know? Call me your little slut?"

You smirked, "You'd cry like a baby."

He laughed, sighing. "Definitely." He rolled you over, tucking his head into the crook of your shoulder to press kisses along your jaw. "Can't help it though. I like being your pretty boy."

"Aw..." You teased, "Sweet little thing. You like being my pillow princess don't you?"

He hums a yes without processing the words, but quickly pulls back to look at you, frowning, "Hey!"

You broke into laughter as he pinched at your sides again, making you giggle and squirm.

You stayed in bed with him all day, only getting up to throw on some clothes frantically and open the door for the pizza delivery guy. You watched scary movies and laughed until you snorted and ate way too much.

And just like that, something in you started to heal. Something that had been painful and jagged.

It would take time to fix it completely. There would still be tears and nightmares, but you knew that soon enough it'd knit itself back together, leaving you with those same pink and silver lightning bolts over your heart that Eddie had.

Proof that both of you had lived through that terrible night. And you'd both healed.

***********

@eddielives1986

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

wild blue yonder

the tardis can regenerate itself...... !!! I mean, wait we knew that already kjhkjh but I just connected the dots now that... that means The Time Lords mined and mauled the child just to make their cars better, as well. Damn...

in classic who u used to have to use ur imagination to pretend everything wasn’t a wobbly set... now u have to use ur imagination to pretend everything isn’t a greenscreen :/

"is that who i am now?" the shocking thing isn’t that he is gay (that’s what donna interprets) the shock to himself is voicing how horny he is lol

Someone is gonna say gravity and that's gonna be fucking weird

"it would take trillion years to get that far” chills!

"no one is ever been this far. till us. and this ship" colonialism fiction dna shining thru

“you little streak” <3

"she'll move on" "not shaun, he'll go to that alleyway every year..." \ten at the alleyway to see rose parallel....

Ghost aroma!!!

blue and orange motif....…………… 13 aesthetic moments.... [13 and Swarm coded? / aka entropy/life coded?/donna and the doc...]

“maybe there's a tribe and they worship it… (…) time passes and the city falls... and there's the tardis" beautiful!! I'm could do somth w/ re: w/ the doctor and their companions. (eyes emoji)

"it got complicated" UNDERSTATEMENT OF A CENTURY #2

"The notion of shape is strange." "it limits" literally current architecture theory

This is so nofna solar system-core

love a classic “anti matter hates matter” story

[the no-bodies…?....cousins to the the could have been king ... with his army of never wheres…?]

This feels very [doctor trying to figure out their body in each regeneration] [intentionally?] this is so end of evangelion poster-core

"it’s strange enough my face coming back, but not this big" / [metaphor for reboots?]

This episode is like the clamoring for us to get a castrovalva 2 escher-like world again next season

"that's not gonna work either" i love these idiots

"why does it have to be one last trip?" rtd ringing moffat / gatiss / gardner / etc and being like like -

ok but follow this reasoning: if the doctor is the same person bc they keep their memories (as the show makes a point of.... constantly) ... and if the memories make the person ... then indeed an entity that copies the memories is the same person, is it not? Where do we draw the line between who’s “real” and who isn’t, in this scenario?

A CREATION I DEVASTATED / literally watched WoM two seconds before this w/ ten all "everything i do just makes it happen" sdjsdkf this is what i mean when i say the doctor has never Processed anythingggg since that Bottom Pit moment

"it wasn't your fault" "i know! (but it stil sucks!!!)" me at therapy like

"WHY DOES HE NEED YOU?" me, Pavlovian tone: because he is lonely...

“when something is gone, it keeps existing” → highlight this!!!! this is gonna be the new thesis statement about Grief!!! this is gonna be The Point for the next 4 years lol

It's very fun to watch this after marath6ning all of ten's era bc it's like... that boy never processed any of that shit. did 11 process shit? did 12? 12 maybe a little but really i think they just got even more trauma (bill ): ) dkdksks and don't get me started on 13. basically what im saying is the doctor Never did get a break on between waters of mars up until now... [and i guess to go further never did get a break after since like....... freaking ghost light skskskskkjkj seven is still There. we don't think about that enough.]

Donna being a clone fucker is not a headcanon ever thought i had but im glad its been confirmed now "donma doesn't think she"s stupid" im sure rtd has launched this exact same rant on so some unwilling family members while browsing ao3 "stop copying and make up your own minds" social commentary / commentary on reboots again / core "individualism > society" dr. who 101 messaging

The not things are kinda.... cute? skdksk if they weren't murderous they look like ppl to hang out w/ and play videogames......

"what do you want?" "you tell us" fundamental doctor-companion dialogue....

"love letters don't travel very far" put a pin on that...

ok.... ARGHGHGHH LET ME THINK THINK THINK skskks me failing at CBT be like

What if the doctor is from our universe. what then the doctor being like we have to mill ourselves immediately feels very 13

this is like "what if turn left and midnight but they go through it together this time <3" fic "where the walls are thin and anything is possible" eyes emoji

"that copy was 99% donna" so maybe re:earlier... what the show is saying between copy vs real is that it's all about the x factor, the 1%....

CONCLUSIONS! lived up to the hype! i think it's a bit 13-era vibe in that it's clearly influenced by all the prestige space-base-isolation scifi we see in the ~cinema now every year. the aesthetic is hitting that vibe (and going to the root, there's also a very clear Alien influence). kinda wish we had more one offs just like this one :( bc i feel the other 2 specials have too much Work to do, so there's not enough time to do.Fun like lore and character stuff. Execution wise is very successful. the switcheroos work. the callbacks work. there's a lot of character stuff happening ("I just realized I'm still working through that!") but it doesn't interfere w/ the adventure itself. My one grip is there's a couple shots that do feel too green-screen-y, but overall the ep is visually amazing. def only a story you could do now. also I love that the NMDs were like "rtd is gonna retcon the timeless child!!! everyone hated it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" and he was like "cool. now watch this" lollll king moments. rare moments where it feels like we live in the best timeline.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[sullustangin]

SWTOR Secret Santa 2023

This is for @levedor-legacy for the SWTOR Secret Santa 2023 – thank you @frauleiiin for running this!

Here’s a Life Day story starring “a deadly can of Arizona Iced Tea,” the Himbolorian himself, Orriel Devero.

~~

Orriel stared at the Galactic Trade Network.

…Math was hard.

Life Day was one of Orriel’s favorite holidays of the year.  He knew it was expensive, so he made it point to pick up a few extra bounties.  He even did some of the silly ones that really didn’t require a bounty hounter, but hey, if they were willing pay to see him get mauled by an agitated loth cat stuck in a tree, Orriel would do it. 

He went to scratch his head, but then he remembered that he still had his helmet on – always did on Vaiken.  The problem was the Life Day sales.  Were they really sales?  Or had the prices been jacked up a few weeks before and now there was a ‘sale’?  Orriel wasn’t a genius, but he was streetwise enough to know a few tricks people used to boost sales. 

Sale or not, credits came in on the regular – Orriel was a damn good bounty hunter.  Hell, he was the Grand Champion of the Great Hunt.  That said, Gault was the one who tracked the credits and investments, and Mako made sure all those credits continued to exist for Orriel – not Gault. 

Somehow, though, whenever Life Day rolled around, Orriel felt uneasy about whether he’d have enough.  Anxiety wasn’t his thing but… he wanted to get it right for everyone. 

…well, almost everyone.  Orriel still wasn’t sure what to do about the newest crewmember.  It probably hadn’t been the best idea to pick up a new crewmember from Belsavis, the Pub’s secret prison planet.  At the time, Orriel had needed a hand, and he never really knew how to end a contract with someone…

Ok, so he did, but that was going to be a mess for 2V to clean up, and even droids deserved Life Day.  And Skadge seemed like one of those guys that would always turn up again, even if he was dumped on an abandoned asteroid.  Fortunately, he kept mostly to himself underdecks.    He had little interest in the other members of the crew.

It wasn’t just the new crewmember that had Orriel worried about the finances for Life Day gifts.  There was Mako.

…she was his best gal.  His only gal, if he was really honest.  He wanted to get something special, but… whenever he looked at the ads for rings and stuff like that, none of the women were like Mako.  They didn’t have dirt and oil under their nails, and they definitely didn’t seem to know their way around a blaster or a kolto probe.  In the type of work they did, a ring that could get dented, broken, or have the stone fall out was no good.  Or it could get stuck on her finger and have to be chopped off – Mandos liked women with scars and battle wounds, but Orriel was pretty sure Mako wanted to keep all of her fingers, regardless of how hot he thought it was.  

A group gift from the entire crew was considered, to play it safe… but Orriel wanted it to be from him – just him.  Advice for personal gifts to girls was also not probably going to be found on-ship; the only person he knew that had a girlfriend in the past was Gault, and that apparently didn’t end well for her. 

“Orriel!  Su'cuy, vod!”  Orriel turned at Torian’s greeting. 

“You got everything you needed?” Orriel asked. 

“Had a plan.  Carried it out.  Easy enough,” Torian replied.

“Ori’jate.” Orriel eyed the GTN kiosk.  “…did you get a gift for everyone?”

“Yeah.  Having trouble?”

Orriel nodded.  “No idea what to get for someone who makes the ship run.  How do you express how much you appreciate them?”

Torian sagely nodded.  Then he told him, “Explosives.” 

Orriel stared at Torian.  “Seriously?”

“Don’t overcomplicate things,” Torian advised him.  “I know we buy Blizz ordinance weekly, but sometimes ‘more’ of a person’s favorite things is exactly what they want.”

Oh.  Orriel touched his hand to his helmet. “Thanks.  I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Then he stopped, and slowly, surely, he had a thought.  “Torian, did we keep the scraps around from when we recast my helmet?”

“Think so.  Have to check the cargo bay.” 

“Great.  Grab a crate of iced tea from the station cantina, and I’ll meet you back at the ship.”

~~

Somehow, accidentally, Skadge was left at Vaiken.  Somehow, for unknown reasons, none of his messages were getting through the main comm boards. 

Blizz told Orriel that he’d fix it … after Life Day.  “Blizz need to fix engine room.  New guy messy.  No system!”  Orriel had been completely unaware of any system of organization created by Blizz, but he took the little guy’s word for it. 

Torian had been right; Blizz just wanted more explosives, and he was happy as a droid in an oil bath.  “Thanks, Boss!”

Gault, as usual, had printed “GIFT CARDS OR CREDITS” across the top of his LIFE DAY GIFT LIST.  He had plastered numerous copies of the list to the interior of the windshield of the Mantis, so Orriel would get the hint this year.  He did.

Torian’s gift was one that that Orriel took some pride in.  He’d managed to source some spare parts for Torian’s antique techstaff; it’d been passed down on his mother’s side for centuries.  Techstaffs themselves hadn’t evolved very much, but that particular model had been discontinued way, way before Torian was born.  Orriel knew a guy who knew a guy, and the well-packaged crate had arrived well ahead of Life Day. 

Torian hadn’t said much – never did.  But Orriel didn’t miss how those blue eyes sparkled at the sight of the parts and then how quickly he’d disappeared off to the ship’s worktable.

Orriel smiled at the small pile of gifts on the dashboard.  He wasn’t that hard to shop for:  give him gas canisters and cartridges, a vibroknife, and explosives, and he was happy. 

That said, Mako had done the best:  she got him a new weapons rack that latched into both of his closet doors.  When the door was opened, it expanded out to its full size, but when the door closed, it got all nice and compact.  Mako was the absolute best. 

And when the chrono clicked over and Gault came up to the cockpit, it was time for Mako to get her gift. 

Gault clapped his shoulder.  “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Orriel gave Gault a quizzical look, then he headed below to the crew quarters.  Mako, being the only girl on the ship, got her own little partition, and that’s where he found her, scrolling through the Holonet on her datapad.  She immediately looked up when Orriel leaned in her doorway and gave him a smile.  “Hey.”

“Thanks for weapons rack.  How’d you get it in there?”

Mako got up from her bunk and walked past him into the hallway.  “Blizz says we need to do duct maintenance.  Really dusty in there, and the last thing you want is any mouse – droid or otherwise – nesting in there.” Mako tossed a teasing grin over her shoulder as she made her way toward the big viewport.

“Blizz is awesome,” Orriel said, as he followed her.  “He seemed really, really happy with all the ordnance.”

“I don’t want to hear it when one of you blows your hand off.”  Mako rolled her eyes, but he knew she was teasing him. 

And that was his opening.  “Yeah, and see, that’s why I didn’t get you a ring.  Hand blown off, no more ring!”

Mako looked at him as if he was nuts.

“You’d still be cute, but I didn’t want you risk losing anything because of our line of work – statistically more likely to get injure—”  Orriel trailed off at she continued to stare at him like he'd grown a tail.

Ok, probably not the best idea to talk about casualty statistics with her on Life Day right before giving her a present.  “But I still want to give you something you can wear, all the time.”  He tapped his armor’s chest pocket, and the hydraulics hissed open.  “So I’m always with you.”

Her face immediately went soft at those words.

Carefully, Orriel fished the chain out of his pocket.  He held it up to dangle between him and Mako.  The ring threaded upon it spun and reflected the light of some nearby sun shining through the viewport.

Mako stepped forward, her eyes large, to gently cup the bottom of the chain in her hand, letting Orriel hang onto it for now.  “It….it’s green.  And the ring– pink –”  She stared at it a moment longer.  “It’s from your armor?” she whispered.

Orriel nodded, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand, ruffling up his red hair.  “When Torian and I recast my helmet, we saved the scraps and the shavings for patches, but then…you.” He rested his hand on the back of his neck for a few moments before gesturing toward her.   I—Listen, I don’t know how you feel about the big, big long term – but you should know –”

“Shut up” was the only warning Orriel had before Mako pounced on him, sending the armored figure clattering to the floor, still valiantly holding up the necklace –

Which was soon snatched away and quickly worn.

It was a most excellent Life Day.

[whinlatter]

If you could save any of the characters in the hp books who died, who would you save and why?

Ah, this is such an interesting question!

Honestly, I think the most pointless death is Fred's, and if I could save him, I would. I could write essays on it, honestly. I think it's one of the cheapest emotional shots taken in the series.

Fred's death is kind of gratuitous. It's not well foregrounded, it's not a particularly good scene or a murder that's carried out by a character with any significance or symbolism (Rookwood? Really?) But neither is Fred's death used to be a particularly sophisticated comment on the randomness of death in war or make a broader point about the nature of the conflict at hand. It's as if the Weasley twins' position as a comedic device and a source of laughter throughout the series made them prime candidates for JKR to batter them, in order to hammer home an already hammered-home point that war is tragic and costly and terrible lol (like, already in the same book, George gets his ear blasted off! Why keep coming back for shots at the twins?)

You can almost imagine JKR going down the list of Weasleys like, ok, well Bill's already been mauled, killing Charlie wouldn't do enough damage because he's such a side character, Percy needs his redemption arc, killing Ron is a bridge too far and she's already had him poisoned, killing Ginny would be plot repetitive and would polish Harry off, she'd already decided to nearly kill then save Arthur, and Molly needs her boss bitch moment - oops sorry guess it's a twin that's getting it! Why not kill one and not the other for maximum devastation! It's not like JKR was even very attentive to the twins' emotional life or made any real effort to characterise the twins separately from one another, other than giving Fred more lines than George throughout the series. So for the reader, the death of one of the twins is this horrendous awful blow, but the reader also is left with no directed tools for how to think about his death or conceptualise what this character was for the series arc. Also to end a series knowing you just robbed this beloved family of a son and a brother - robbing George of his twin - and then make no attempt to think about the impact of that death on your characters, and write an epilogue that says all was well, is just extremely poor plot detonation, imo.

I say this also because I think there are deaths in the series that are awful and tragic, but which are still narratively and symbolically important, either as ways of propelling the plot forwards or offering a kind of narrative symbolism or arc that has some payoff for the reader. James and Lily have to die to set in motion this huge plot arc for the entire series. Cedric's death is a powerful watershed moment both for the reader - things are getting serious now - and for Harry. Sirius' death, while completing devastating, does at least make some sense to strip away from this central character an important protector as he steps towards a fate no-one can shield him from. Dumbledore's death was a masterstroke, and I actually (sorry) think Hedwig and Dobby's deaths make a ton of sense, as characters that represent innocence and the uncomplicated warm friendship of childhood friends (also I think Harry digging Dobby's grave is one of the most powerful images in the series). Even Remus and Tonks' deaths do something for the arc of the series, offering the symbolism of both another baby orphaned by war, and for Harry beginning the next chapter of his life as the godfather to that orphaned child (I'm typing that out very grudgingly because obviously those deaths are horrendous). But Fred, it's like, ok, well, the only possible point for this is to make sure you see it's a war and deaths will happen and to make sure the Weasleys are grieving for the rest of their lives. Great, cool, fine! But I think it's cheap storytelling. Anyway there's my piece!

[fraudulent-cheese]

Do you think they made Dave a bit of a straw man near the end of Pahkitew? Like it always felt to me they needed someone to use as a hate buffer you know since they couldn't use any of the antagonists they had already made. And this is coming from someone who likes Dave. He was just a pathetic guy who had some charm to him if explored and used them correctly but in the end he was... Mauled by a robotic bear? The punish may fit the crime, the culprit sure doesn't.

-Pahkitew anon

Total Drama in general has a problem with over punishing it's antagonistic characters in general. I mean, Heather's head getting shaved off is fine imo? It's harsh, but also a punishment in line with her character; if her hair's the hottest thing about her, taking it is a fitting punishment (again. Really fucking harsh). Same with Justin's downfall, caused by him actually liking a girl instead of just charming one. I haven't watched the ending of Action so i can't say anything for how Courtney's elimination is treated.

However, as the series went on, the antagonist punishments started going... way too far. I think the writers just thought that making Ezekiel a weird creature was funny and the volcano erupting would've made for a dramatic finale, but making Alejandro both get burnt alive by it and then stuffing him in a robot suit for over a year is just overboard. Same thing with Scott in ROTI; the trauma chair's implications just get worse the more you think about it - at least Alejandro could speak in the machine at first!

I won't cover the Reboot in this context, but i will cover PI: mostly because this season seemingly has 2-3 antagonists, and most don't carry the plot. Scarlett's an actual antagonistic force for a single episode and doesn't get any punishment on screen outside of elimination (and being sent with Max). Sugar is who im pretty sure the writters wanted to treat as an antagonist? But she doesn't feel like an overarching vilain since she's mostly just doing her own thing all season and the show's just... really mean to her? The narrative repeatedly treats her as unattractive, annoying and dismisses her abilities (specifically in singing) when she's like. Fine. in those aspects. She's also not the smartest, but knows how to use the rules to her advantage (see Ella's elimination, probably the worst thing she does all season)

Getting to the actual topic of your ask now, Dave's heel turn to murder just... feels a little off. Oh sure if the writing insisted on the conditions on the island wearing him down and having Sky be the only positive connection he had (especially considering his attitude towards relationships), having it torn down like this could make it work? At least a little better? But by the episode he's eliminated in he seems to be doing ok.

In general the finale just seems to exacerbate Dave's worst traits for either comedy reasons or plot reasons (pre and post Sky-has-a-boyfriend reveal), but i could personally excuse it if his reaction was more akin to one he'd have before. He would not have reacted well to the reveal, hell him trying to stop Sky from winning could've worked but like??? Not like this man! Im not asking the Total Drama teenager to have a reasonnable reaction, im asking the Total Drama Writters to stick with the character they wrote, and frankly it would be funnier if he failed miserably in trying to get back at Sky or something. Out of all the seasons i feel like either TDAS or TDPI should've ended with the contestants fighting back against Chris instead of the actual endings we got.

Also, as a final clarification: Dave wasn't mauled by a bear (onscreen), Scuba bear was just standing behind him as the entire season ended. I guess my big problem is that he gets consequences for his actions during a single episode and not actions from over the course of the entire season; frankly Sky rejecting him is enough consequences, the dude's pathetic and didn't listen to her 'but', multiple times.

[itsyagurlchip]

can I get a goofy reader insert w/ gregory as the older sibling

٠ ˚ ※ ๋࣭ ᯓ⚝ ⋆ .˚✰Radically Chaotic!٠ ˚ ※ ๋࣭ ᯓ⚝ ⋆.˚✰

✰⋆⁺warning: Gregory(!) crack(!) a lil older sibling angst(!)

✰⋆⁺ i know who you are *insert gay dog*naw but fr- I apologize that it took so long for this to come out :(( and ur not online as much, BUT I LOVE U SM ❤️🫵🏾I know it was supposed to be goofy- but i had to get some tears in(I knew it was u bc ur the only one who uses goofy like that @thealphagirl)

✰⋆⁺ You are a 14 year old older sibling. Life just couldn't get harder for you!!!-? Wait- WHY DOES HIS TRACKER SAY THE PIZZA PLEX?

"DUDE! WHY THE HELL DID YOU THINK IT WAS OK TO BE HERE???" I harshly whispered, my breath heaving in the tight hiding spot we were in.

"I DONT KNOW!? I JUST WANTED TO SEE SOME COOL STUFF" Gregory responded, trying to use that damn Journey Kidz ass watch. I don't even know where that came from, Mom hasn't bought anything like that in months.

"AH YES, BECAUSE THE COOLEST THING IN THE WORLD IS GETTING CHASED BY A GROWN AS WOMAN WHO LOOKS LIKE SHE NEEDS 3 YEARS OF SLEEP!" I sarcastically retorted as my voice raised a pitch. We were so in trouble, it's bad enough that I got my tablet away. Now the door is up for grabs.

"THAT 'WOMAN' WILL GET US IF YOU DONT SHUT UP"

"MAKE ME, YOU LIL-" His hand slapped against my mouth just as aggressive stomping flooded both of our ears. My heart dropped to my ass. Forget the door! I won't even have a bedroom to myself if we go to jail!

This is a big ass place, no telling how much it costs. Trespassing gets sued for, and knowing Gregory, he probably broke some expensive-!

oh no...

"Gregory?..." I slowly turned to him, "How much have you broken?"

I'm pretty sure I could hear that loudass daycare music (despite us being closer to the front) from how quiet it became.

*sigh* "We need to get out of here so no one can recognize our faces- I am NOT gonna do community service for your dumbass decisions." I hissed out as I slightly gripped my hair. I had to take another long exhale at the absurdity of the situation, my eyes couldn't even stay open as I did so. The buffoonery, the stress, the-

I hear sniffling from my right and I quickly spun around just in time to see my little brother put on a tough face, not before he angrily wiped away some tears with the bittest of snot from his nose.

I sigh once more, with my eyes tearing up as well. I pull him close into a hug, his head leaning close to my chest. I wonder if he can hear how hard my hard is beating...

"Look buddy... Sorry if I sounded so harsh- or if I worded something wrong". A tear fell from my eye. "I just wish you had told me where you were- or, or...I just wanted you to be okay. I'm older than you, I have to protect you." I looked into Gregory's eyes as I wiped some of the tear tracks away.

"Not only that, and I had to admit it but- you're my number one best friend. I don't want to know what it's like to lose you." My voice cracked a I continued on. I held Gg tight, hoping that we weren't crying too loud.

...

Well that was a shit show! You know, crying isn't as bad as it seems to be. Because I would rather be ANYWHERE ELSE than here right now!

You know, at home, in a nice warmish bed. A non hostile environment. No Self aware machines. Especially ones that chase you, AROUND A FUCKING MALL!!

Me and Gregory were booking it- A raccoon-looking animatronic was chasing us.

'What she needed to chase was a color scheme' I thought to myself. 'And maybe a whole new maw- that shit looks like those furry masks on yt shorts.

Turns out, the only robot that wasn't trying to maul our faces off is good ole Freddicson Fazbearington. But, as if the universe is our 3rd grade enemy, Freddy runs like a goddamn iphone battery.

I could only hope that we made it our here, no fees, no community service, or even trouble on our hands. I couldn't even hop for that- the damn things were trying to kill us!

If wishing wasnt doing anything, me and my little brother will. We'll make it home safe, no scratches, no suspicion. Nothing will be damaged, no one will be harmed.

But the security was breached, leaving a radically chaotic fire in its wake by the start of the morning.

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[ecoamerica]

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