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#I cannot elaborate but know that I’m dead
gukiee · 10 months
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You guys think rainism killed me?
Seven has me buried at the bottom of the Marianas Trench
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mediumgayitalian · 2 months
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Nico is going to be smote by Hermes.
As he trudges through the muddy lake water, seething, he weighs each elaborated murder he has planned for each member of Cabin Eleven against how harshly Hermes will punish him for it. Connor will be flayed alive. Travis will be cooked over an open flame. Julia will be strapped to a rocket and blasted into the sun. Alice will face death by a thousand paper cuts.
And Cecil.
Fucking Cecil.
Cecil Markowitz will face a death so tortuous and harrowing that the constraints of the crime cannot be adequately covered in any mortal tongue. Crucified is too light a term. Nico is going to kill him in a way that is unspeakable — to hell with Hermes and his wrath. Nico is going to smite his dumbass children himself, and it will be worth it.
His boyfriend waits for him, lips pressed together and eyes trained to the sky, on the dock, holding several towels.
“Say nothing,” Nico hisses, slamming his sword on the wood and dragging himself up after it.
“Wasn’t going to,” Will lies. He immediately begins to cough, face turning slightly red. “Well, if I were to say anything —”
“William,” Nico warns.
“I just mean to say,” he soldiers on, setting all but one of the towels down, “that you look —”
He cuts himself off with a quickly smothered giggle.
“I swear to all that is fucking holy, Son of Phoebus.”
He lets Will maneuver him about, towel turning almost black with all the mud it’s absorbing off Nico’s clothes. He has to move on to another towel once he’s finished just Nico’s arm, dripping the soaked towel with a wet plop.
“It’s not that bad.”
Nico stares at him, deadpan. In fact he has to swipe pond scum out of his eyes and hair to glare properly.
“I am the fucking Creature of the Black Lagoon, Solace.”
Will bites his lip, hard. A burst of laughter escapes anyway, heedless of his desperate attempt to smother it, and the worst part is that it’s gorgeous and it makes his eyes light up and his stupid face looks stupid divine, when he’s giggly about something, and it makes Nico want to crush him a little. In the facial region, with his own face.
Except his own face is covered in stinky lake mud.
And Will is laughing.
Hard.
“I mean,” he manages around giggles, holding up a new towel to dab at Nico’s face, “it brings out your eyes, honestly.”
Nico closes his eyes. He lets that sit for a moment. He exhales for ten solid seconds.
“William Andrew.”
“It does! I mean, it’s really the perfect shade —”
“Romance is actually, genuinely dead.”
“— makes them look very deep, actually —”
“I should’ve listened to Demeter and married a doctor.”
“— and lake mud has so many uses! Most of the microbes on you are excellent for the skin. Who wouldn’t want to be compared to lake mud?”
“Oh wait! That is useless advice.”
“And you didn’t even pick up any leeches! Just all this dark, beautiful lake mud, as brown and beautiful as your eyes —”
“I’m returning you to whatever lab you were created in. Obviously you’re defective and I want a new model.”
“— in fact I’ll write a haiku about it.” He clears his throat. “My boyfriend is so hot —”
“Enough,” Nico interrupts, slapping his semi-clean hand over Will’s motormouth before things get any worse. Unfortunately the mud still caked into the lines of his skin contrasts beautifully with Will’s sparkling eyes, making them even bluer somehow. That’s a felony. “Also, that’s six syllables, dumbass.”
“I’ll revise,” he shoots back, muffled.
“If you promise not to, I’ll move my hand.”
Will presses a kiss to his palm because he’s a sappy loser who knows exactly what he does for Nico’s heart problems, based on the wiggle of his stupid perfect eyebrows.
“Deal.”
Nico removes his hand slowly. He lifts it back up when Will opens his mouth, threatening, but luckily he changes course before Nico has to make good on the threat, leaning down to kiss Nico softly, properly.
“I’m crucifying your best friend,” he mumbles against his lips. “That is step one of a ten step torture process.”
“‘Kay.”
“His siblings, too.”
“Sounds good.”
“Hermes might grind me to dust, after.”
“Trying really, really hard to focus on something right now, babe.”
“Right,” Nico breathes. There is still mud drying onto him and it is the Worst, actually, and he still has several homicides to play out, but.
But.
He can spend a little time kissing his boyfriend first.
(As long as that will keep him from spouting any more damn haikus.)
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tommyspeakycap · 8 months
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shopping
jay loves you so much he actively enjoys being dragged around dress shopping
jay halstead x reader tooth rotting fluff x
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“What do you think of this one?” You ponder, running your fingers over the fabric of a dress in the millionth store you’d dragged your boyfriend into. You had left the finding of a dress for your friends wedding pretty last minute and so far, despite the fact Jay would attested you looked drop dead gorgeous in every single one of them, you were still declaring that you hadn’t found one that looked good on you.
“Why don’t you try it on?” Your boyfriend suggests, attracting your frazzled attention to him. When your eyes land on him there isn’t an ounce of annoyance towards you. Men notoriously hate doing things like this, following their partner around shops. Jay’s missing the game today, he’s probably knackered from working constantly and you wouldn’t be surprised if he was thinking of elaborate ways he could kill you and make it look like an accident right now just like many men stuck shopping with their partners have done in years gone by. Boyfriends before him to you and other women across the country have moaned and groaned the entire way around, asking repeatedly when you would be done and genuinely considering leaving you there.
Jay had not murmured so much as one complaint.
Jay Halstead is probably the best boyfriend in the world. He drove you here, he reacts with the same adoration with each and every dress you walked out in. Your boyfriend - not probably - unarguably, is the best boyfriend in the world. Only whilst you’re trying on a million dresses will he fiddle about with his phone, but the second you emerge to show him, his phone immediately goes away so he can direct his full attention to you again. He even carries the dresses you’re going to try and will lift them out of your reach when you try to protest. The only thing he’s threatened you with so far is that he would rip one particular dress clean off you and have you in that dressing room if you weren’t careful.
Ever the gentleman, Jay Halstead.
You had never had a love like this before.
All of a sudden you’re overcome with guilt, a frown falling onto your face. On duty or not, your boyfriend is a detective immediately a frown of his own appears across his beautiful features, concern furrowing his brow as he notices your face falling. “Baby,what’s wrong? You’ll get something. And besides, you know I think you look amazing in all of them.” Jay soothes softly as he takes a few steps towards you in concern at the sudden sadness written across your features. “No it’s not that,” you sigh, “You never get time off and today you have and i’m dragging you around half the stores in Chicago. I’m so sorry Jay, we can just go and i’ll come back another time.” You hurry to grab the other two dresses he was holding for you and stuff them back onto the rail they came from while Jay simply stood still and cocked an eyebrow.
“Jay?”
“Are you finished?” He taunts, prompting you to furrow your brows. “Am i finished wha-“
“Do you really think i would rather be anywhere else right now?” He asks, almost incredulously as if he cannot believe that you would ever even consider the fact he would want to be anywhere other than with you. “No matter what we’re doing, i’d always rather be with you. I mean what kind of man would complain about watching his hot girlfriend trying on hot dresses all day?” Jay reaches up to cup your cheeks, smoothing his thumbs over the soft surface. “Seriously honey, I’d spend the rest of my days doing this if i got to do it with you. Now let’s get you that perfect dress so i can rip it off you in two weeks eh?”
You snort a laugh, cheeks flushing bright red. “Oh detective Halstead, you are so getting some tonight.”
~~~
“Okay, okay, okay.” Jay hears your voice and finishes off the text he was sending. “What about this one?” He casts his eyes up to you and back at his phone to lock it quickly, but the device nearly actually slips right out of his hand as he attempts to do so. His head snaps back up to you as he stuffs it into his pocket. “Woaaah my god.” He breathes, eyes wide as you blush under his gaze. “Jay…” you trail off, crossing your arms over your chest. Jay has loved all of the dresses so far, so this reaction you assume is just over exaggerated because he wants you to feel good.
If only you could see inside his mind. It’s like some kind of primal alarm has gone off. Jay feels himself building up a little sweat as he blinks a few times to confirm that you are really stood in front of him, really his girlfriend and really that fucking hot. “Seriously, (y/n). I literally don’t have words. If you don’t chose that one we are definitely getting it anyway.” His face is as serious as it is when he’s at work, eyebrows raised to add to his insistence. “This one is my favourite,” you agree bashfully. It is very obviously your boyfriend’s favourite too. The brunette is doing his thing where he’s become a little bit lost, like someone’s reached inside him and spun his head.
He had very effectively been knocked from the unshakable hardened police detective and reduced to a boyfriend who’s adoration for his girlfriend beams right out of him. It’s as though love hearts have appeared in his eyes, heart fluttering at the sight of you giving him a little twirl. Jay’s mouth is dry, his stomach flipping.
The only thought in his mind is that he wants this forever. Your silly little ever-so-slightly timid showing off of outfits, your blushing grin when he compliments every little thing about you, his spinning head, his thumping heart and the knowing he is the one who gets to take you home; all of it. He wants it forever and only with you. He wants to spend all of his forevers totally enthralled by and entirely speechless because of you.
“Perfect. I’ll meet you at the register?” Jay finally speaks, trying not to trip over his own words. You nod with a giggle, making a show of swaying your hips a little extra because you know he’s watching you walk away. One of Jay’s favourite cheeky little phrases to recite comes to mind as you do so, and you know he’s muttering it to himself know. ‘I hate it when you leave but i love to watch you walk away’.
You’re quick to change back into your own clothes, aware Jay is waiting for you and if left alone in a shop too long he will find something to buy for you that is more expensive than you need or start to worry you’ve been the victim of a spontaneous changing room hostage situation. “Any luck?” The older lady manning the dressing room asks you sweetly, immediately forcing a big cheesy grin onto your face at the thought of Jay’s reaction to that dress. You’d had quite a lot of luck recently, you thought. You had gotten lucky with Jay, and you knew that better than anyone else. He was the love you had dreamt of and had been almost certain you’d never find.
“Yep, think i found the one.” You reply, holding the dress up for her to see. “If you don’t mind my saying.” She begins softly before casting her gaze out onto the shop floor to spot Jay before she turns back to you, “I really think you have. He’s one of the good ones.” Jay is just stood there, holding the bag with your new shoes in one hand and your coat tucked under his other arm waiting patiently for you to return so he can wrap his arm around your shoulders and press that kiss on your temple the same way he always does to greet you. Her lips are tugged into a genuine smile. “Brings back your faith in love a little. We don’t see many as good as him.” She adds quietly, watching your eyes cling to the man you love so much. “I don’t think there are any like him.” You admit sheepishly. When you meet her eyes again it’s like she can see right through you. Had you not been so wrapped up in him, you might have humoured the idea that people even outside of your circle can actually tell you Jay were just meant to be.
“I best not keep you any longer, he might burst.”
Despite her joking, you both know the tall brunette doesn’t like being away from you. This lady does not know you and nor does she know Jay, but just by observing for mere moments the way you interact with each other, she knows what everybody knows when they see you together.
How truly and deeply in love you both are.
These moments with him, mundane and boring as some might see them to others, are fleeting for you and Jay. His job keeps him as busy as any job really could. He doesn’t get to come shopping with you as often as he’d like, and Jay is nothing if not hyper aware that he does not always have the luxury of time to treat you how he believes you should be treated.
If anything, he spends a significant amount of time worrying and beating himself up about the time he doesn’t get to spend with you. He’s conscious of the fact that he doesn’t ever get to whisk you away on weekend getaways in case his job needs him or that he doesn’t treat you to fancy dinners as often as a man with a simpler job may be able to. He doesn’t always have the time to hold you in the mornings or fall asleep by your side. Jay Halstead will beat himself up until the day he dies about the fact he cannot shower you in his love the way he wishes he was able to.
In the very same breath, you make sure every worry and fear he has ever had about not being enough for you is squashed before he ever even thinks it’s showing. He is far from insecure about your relationship, but he is nothing if not aware of the fact you are deserving of someone who has more time for you.
To you, it is the mere fact that he makes time where time literally doesn’t exist that matters most.
Whether he has half an hour of a lunch break or no time at all, he will always find a way to make sure he’s texted you, ‘I hope today is treating you well baby. Love you x’. Every day, without fail. When he misses a dinner he will scramble in that front door all puppy eyes and more broken hearted that you could ever be that he’s missed it, with flowers slightly damaged from how quickly he tried to get home and grovelling apologies you accept in the form of a gentle, love soaked kiss on his lips. His apologies are always accepted. How could you ever hold a grudge when you can see his pain in those pretty blue eyes. On your worst days, he will find a way to wrap his love around you tight enough to squeeze all those broken pieces back together. How could you ever be angry when he tries so hard, you know the effort he has gone to in order to stop work from consuming his life the way he once did as a younger, single man. He is there, present or not. He is always there and you know he loves you because he shows you in ways even you haven’t come to fully know. When a case hits a little to close to home he’ll crawl into bed in the middle of the night and he will not let you go. When he knows you are fast asleep safe in his arms, he mumbles about how nothing will ever harm you so long as he’s around. In the time you do get to spend together, you feel so much love that it could last you a lifetime.
You never ever want to be without Jay Halstead.
“You know how much i love you, right?” You mumble softly with your head tucked into his shoulder, waiting in a patient and comfortable silence in the line to pay for your dress. “Course. Why do you ask?” Jay mused, tilting his head a little to look at you. “Dunno, just wanted you to know it’s…a lot i guess.”
“You guess?” Jay teases, jostling you playfully against his side. “You guess?”
“Jayyyy,” you whine, swirling yourself out of his grasp. Your boyfriend throws his head back with a loud chuckle, eyes crinkling the way they do when he’s genuinely happy. Only you can make him smile that way. “I’m trying to be sweet!” Your protest makes him laugh harder.
Before you could even get your phone on the card machine to pay, Jay had already done it and was thanking the man behind the desk. You were pretty much stood guffawing at him, highly displeased that after a day of being dragged here there and everywhere, he was now paying for the clothes you needed. “Now i’m trying to be sweet.” He retorts. “Come on pretty girl,” he rolls his eyes playfully at you, “Lets get out of here eh?”
You always fear you don’t remind him enough that you love him more than words could ever say. Jay on the other hand couldn’t believe such a ridiculous thought could ever come from such a smart woman. He feels your love every single day in every single way.
With your fingers linked together, you and Jay strolled off towards his truck. Jay has this weird feeling in his gut today. He hasn’t been able to put his finger on it all day. Only when he looks over at you in the car, one hand in yours and the other on the wheel, that this feeling is contentment. It’s peace. Just the feeling of total relaxation for the first time in his life. It is you. You are his peace, his lifeline, his home. No matter where you are.
And maybe it’s a little bit of nerves, brought on purely by the little box wrapped in tissue paper and buried under some of the clothes you had bought. Being a gentleman wasn’t the only reason Jay had insisted on carrying your bags.
He was going to propose tonight.
And then he was going to spend forever loving every single little mundane moment you get together for the rest of his life.
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bonefall · 4 months
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Hey Bones! Sorry if this is a bit random to ask you, but-
Is it ok if you elaborate and/or explain how Millie is ableist towards Briarlight please?
I haven’t really heard much people within the fandom talk about Millie’s treatment of Briarlight and her disability as negative and/or bad compared to Millie not really paying attention to Blossomfall within the books.
So I’m interested what you know and/or have to say about it.
OH boy, I feel like this one is REALLY easy to see if you just pop the book open. It will make your skin crawl once you see these quotes. Millie is an AWFUL mother and SHOCKING in how nasty she is to her disabled child.
I run in some pretty good circles and curate my Tumblr experience well, so I see plenty of people just mentioning it as a fucked up thing the series did casually, but I'll make a compilation of the worst of it.
(CW for some serious ableism, Millie is terrible.)
She's injured in Chapter 11 of OotS Book 2: Fading Echoes, and Millie is obsessive over her until Chapter 9 of OotS Book 3: Night Whispers. She's interfering with Jayfeather's treatments, constantly in the den, shouting at him when he tries to be honest about Briarlight's condition.
But that would be understandable. She's concerned and the prognosis isn't great. Her very young, athletic daughter (basically 17-ish) has suddenly received a life-altering injury that will drastically affect her life. Until Night Whispers Chapter 9, she's just worrying about her daughter.
And then we get this.
(Please note this is happening in front of the entire Clan. The entire social group is watching this.)
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Though Briarlight expressed frustration with her exercises and how painful and difficult recovery was in Fading Echoes, that is not the case in Night Whispers. At this point, it's difficult but Briarlight is recovering well. MILLIE decides that her daughter being alive with a disability is suffering.
Note how in this exchange, Jayfeather is being forced to comfort Briarlight's MOTHER. Not BRIARLIGHT herself, the one with the injury who is looking at a massive upheaval to her life. Though superficially it seems like this is coming from a place of love, Millie is making Briarlight's recovery about herself by doing this, and this exchange is ableist.
Millie: "I want her to do all of these able-bodied things."
Jay: "That will not happen, but life has inherent value."
Millie: "No it doesn't, if you cannot do those able-bodied things, you are suffering."
But it gets worse because it's not even that she's only expressing this in private. Her daughter is within earshot. The newly disabled person is listening to their own fucking mother call her medical treatment "dragging out her suffering."
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BURN this passage into your mind. Having heard her OWN FUCKING MOTHER cry to a crowd of cats that maybe it would be better if she was DEAD, watching several cats drop everything to comfort HER for having a disabled daughter, Briarlight has to drag herself out and act like a cute baby to get her to stop making a public spectacle.
It's hard to describe to someone who hasn't been in the situation before, but if your parent is making a scene like that, it'll end up falling onto you to "appeal" to their sense of... parental valor, is the best way I can put it. "See? Aren't I getting better? I promise I'll work hard. I'm not hurt it's okay! Everything is fine!" You give them a chance to affirm how good of a parent they are, for helping you, or 'putting up' with you. You have to assure them that your existence isn't so bad.
In essence, it falls onto the child to comfort their parent.
This is specifically a form of a toxic family dynamic called emotional parentification, on top of it being obviously ableist. She is being shoved into a position where she needs to sacrifice her OWN need for support and comfort to coddle her parent, to STOP her from making a scene, while that parent screams that her disabled life is worth less than her siblings' abled ones to a crowd of cats.
Naturally, this affects Briarlight's sense of self-worth. She stops eating.
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Thankfully, Jayfeather is here to have an exchange about how her life has value. For all my issues with Jayf in later arcs, he has some of his best moments here in OotS.
In later books, Briarlight's struggles with self-worth continue. It's all shit that Millie implied about her being less useful because she is unable to do what her siblings can.
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It's every other cat who has to come in and assure Briarlight that she isn't worthless. Not Millie. Millie comes on screen and she's either making Briarlight feel like garbage or barking at Jayfeather for not doctoring hard enough.
She desperately craves independence. This above scene is happening because she wanted to come out into the woods for the first time in forever, and she's being suffocated and bossed around in the camp constantly. It was up to her brother, Bumblestripe, to do anything to help her.
Not her dad. Not her mom. Bumblestripe. (Rare Bumblestripe W)
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I also want to take a brief moment to point out a detail that the fandom often forgets, about Blossomfall. She actually knows full well that her feelings are unreasonable here, and she believes that the fact she isn't feeling "what she is supposed to" is proof that she is a bad person who deserves hell.
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Millie's actions are crushing ALL of her children under its weight. Briarlight is obviously getting the worst of it, but these are YOUNG adults, just out of apprenticeship, and Blossomfall is being told that her sister is in a constant state of "suffering." This means she's not allowed to be frustrated about how Millie is behaving, because hating THAT means you hate your sister, and that makes her an awful person.
What Blossomfall is describing here is the feelings associated with being a glass child.
But no it's not JUST that she's being neglectful to Blossomfall, who yes, is a young adult and can take responsibility for her own actions. Millie is being nasty to Bloss too, directly comparing her to Briarlight and unironically doing the "You should be GRATEFUL you can walk when BRIARLIGHT WOULD DO ANYTHING TO LEGS AROUND."
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Again. I'll state the very obvious from the passage.
"Hey Millie, your other daughter looks kinda upset right now!" = "PERFECT TIME TO SNAP AT HER"
Blossomfall = Wasted her morning when she should be Useful
Useful = Can hunt
"YOUR SISTER wouldn't act like this"
Proper warrior = spends every waking minute in service of the clan
Once again, Millie does this in public, with several people watching her rip into her child. She even gets ANGRY at Brackenfur gently trying to soften the blow. It's freakjob shit to hear, "h-hey, at least they're safe!" and SNARL back "IS IT?"
Millie continues to hover over Briarlight well into Bramblestar's Storm. The closure for these intense, insulting comments, public embarrassments, snapping at and neglecting one child while telling the other one that her life was "suffering" because she can't walk is.....
millie watches her do some pull-ups and is so impressed by them she isn't bigoted anymore :o)
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"my daughter's membership at British Planet Fitness paid off. Look at how big her biceps are now. I guess I was wrong to tell her that her life is inherently suffering because she can't hunt, just look at her gooooo"
wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
So, basically, Millie's a terrible parent. She never gets properly called out for this manipulative, toxic behavior. She says that her own daughter might have been better off dead in public. She makes Briarlight feel like half of a cat because she can't do all the things her siblings do, while her siblings are told that they should be grateful they're not disabled like Briarlight.
And just to end off, because it's relevant, the BRAND NEW writing team then killed off Briarlight in an incredibly stupid, insulting way. She catches fucking Greencough in AVoS so that they can have a very sad funeral for a couple of chapters, before moving on to Jayfeather being a shithead to Alderheart for being friends with Velvet.
Then they wrote a line in Squirrelflight's Hope where Squilf's mother begs her to stay dead in heaven, because if she goes back to life, she might be disabled like Briarlight and her mate Bramblestar won't want her anymore. The line was so bad the authors promised that it wouldn't be there in reprints; the reprint still has not come.
normal series.
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edenfenixblogs · 4 months
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hey i saw the post about your cousin's bar mitzvah, and well first of all congrats to her. but also uh one thing you mentioned made me curious- what *am* i supposed to do should i find a dead body on the side of the road, if it's no problem for me to ask? not to worry you or anything like that but i guess it'd be useful to know if i pass a car crash on a road trip again.
Ah! What a good ask!!!! I see you committing to the act of learning more about Judaism as an act of allyship, and I appreciate you! Thanks so much for taking an interest.
Obligatory disclaimer: I’m not a biblical scholar or a Talmudic expert. I’m just a Jew who likes being a Jew.
So my Torah portion was in Leviticus. For those who don’t know, Leviticus and Numbers are often considered the doldrums of Torah books. It’s not where a lot of the well-known exciting parts happen. Those books generally contain a lot of lists of rules and mitzvot.
But this is actually why I like the way Judaism reads the whole Torah in order. It forces us to confront the “boring” stuff. And in so doing, we have to think harder about why that stuff is included in our books.
So that’s why my assigned portion was interesting to me.
The actual text basically says “don’t touch dead bodies.” But I remember reading the Talmudic scholarship which was especially interesting because its focus was to elaborate on all the exceptions and then talked about the importance of doing good deeds without a reward and not punishing those who need to do things like touch dead bodies.
The point of the text isn’t to condemn people who are doing the “forbidden” thing without any cause. The text outlines a lot of rules (many of which are not relevant anymore) and, frankly excessive punishments for breaking the rules.
But Judaism doesn’t end at the literal text. Talmud (rabbinical interpretation) is equally important.
My take on the material was this:
There are some things that, on the whole, we shouldn’t do. We shouldn’t touch dead bodies. We shouldn’t come to synagogue when we are sick. We shouldn’t cheat on our spouses. Etc.
But sometimes, you do need to break the rules. And for some things, someone must always break the rules. There must be someone in any community whose job it is to touch dead bodies. Someone must bury the dead. At the very least.
For people in that position, it is so vitally important that we do not throw the literal text in their face. It is important that we do not condemn them or shun them or otherwise exclude them from our community. Judaism is about community. And you cannot have a community that is based upon excluding people who do essential jobs. Rather, thank them. Because they are doing a good thing with no inherent reward. Quite the opposite. Those people should be celebrated. They take on the hard work knowing it carries risk of exclusion and judgment, but they do it anyway. Because it’s right.
Back in the day, if you saw a dead body on the side of the road and no one seemed available to bury it? Bury it. Give that fallen soul dignity. Then pray about it. Physically and emotionally wash the sin* away. (*sin in Judaism is not the same as the Christian idea of sin. Sin is more akin to an “oops” or “missing the mark.”) And take pleasure in doing something good for humanity and knowing that nobody else had to take on that sin for you.
So, nowadays, if you see a dead body on the side of the road? Call the person whose job it is to deal with that. And thank them for doing this very emotionally difficult work. Welcome that person into your community. Be kind to them. It matters. Because there is no community at all without them and people like them.
And in general? The more broad lesson to this is to of course be kind to people who do unglamorous but necessary work. And to take on that unglamorous work ourselves when necessary. That’s how we keep our community functional and healthy. Do good deeds without expecting a reward. Do what’s right even when you expect a bad outcome. Do good and right things for their own sake, because that’s what we exist to do. Create goodness in the world. The reward is the better world we create.
Thanks for asking @clawdia-houyhnhnm
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kallamars-spouse · 3 months
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In defense of my wife…
Disclaimer: I use she/her pronouns for Kallamar. Why? That’s a transfemme lesbian squid and she told me that while I killed her with a warhammer. 
I am also viewing this following essay through the lenses of the Bishops and their family and how they treat each other. This isn’t a defense of how they treat mortals, and isn’t about anything beyond Gods at all.
I understand why Kallamar would tell the Lamb to kill Shamura instead of her. I also think there’s more nuance to it than “omg she would sell out Shammy!” when Shamura is absolutely not blameless. None of the Bishops are. I’m the Bishops’ BIGGEST fan, but I’m not going to act like their family isn’t dysfunctional as all Hell. Now, let’s start from the top. 
The age order from eldest to youngest is Shamura, Kallamar, Narinder, Heket, and Leshy. We can tell in the game that Shamura’s favorite was Narinder simply due to the fact they still love him, refused to kill him when we know it’s possible, and kickstarted an entire extinction of a species to ensure he would never be free- but that he would be alive. 
x
From Narinder’s dialogue, we can deduce that he hates Kallamar the most. 
“Kallamar was always a coward. This land is a better place now her pathetic, sniveling carcass is nothing more than a mound of rotting flesh.“
This isn’t elaborated upon, but his words after her death are downright the most vicious. Narinder says that his older sister was ALWAYS a coward.
Shamura also says this about Kallamar, and as the eldest they would’ve known her longer than Narinder has.
“Kallamar was always frightened of the Red Crown. Yes, fear made a coward of her.”
This implies that not only was Kallamar not always what we see her as, but that Shamura believes her to be afraid of the Red Crown itself. Yet, this is what Kallamar says.
“It seems you cannot be stopped by disease or hunger. And he sends you back from death stronger each time. Please know, it was not my idea to cast out the Red Crown! The other Bishops, my siblings, the blame lies with them. Please, I beg you, spare me. Kill Shamura, but do not send me to my death. Do not send me to him!”
Kallamar acknowledges that neither she nor Heket could stop the Lamb, and that she doesn’t believe she could win against them. That’s why she begs for mercy. 
She states that locking Narinder up wasn’t her idea.
At this point in the story if you kill them in the canon order, Leshy and Heket are already dead. Kallamar throwing them under the bus does not matter, as she knows they are dead. 
Lastly, Kallamar expresses fear over Narinder. The Red Crown isn’t what scares her. Death isn’t what scares her. It is Narinder himself.
x
Shamura is the one who made the call to lock Narinder up, as they directly state themself.
“Though no longer wise, I am no fool. I know the end draws near. I can take some comfort in confession. The blame hangs heavy 'round my neck. I introduced him to ideas of change; for my domain is knowledge, and it is ever evolving. An organic state of being for myself, but for him… most unnatural. Death cannot flow backward. It was I who had him chained. Forced into subjugation by the four of us.”
It was not a group decision. It was Shamura’s word, and their siblings obeyed them without question. They blame themself, as they’re the one who was letting him “explore” his domain. Since it’s implied that reversing death (for example, resurrection) is heresy, only then did they step in. I assume after this, perhaps Shamura plotted to chain him, Narinder discovered, and that’s why he struck first. Or he directly attacked due to Shamura and the others “turning against him”, and that’s why he was imprisoned. We aren’t told exactly. 
All we know is the Bishops have injuries, but Narinder does not. There’s no way in Hell that he could take them on all at the same time, nor that he could beat Shamura or Kallamar. Both of them are more powerful than he is. You could argue that Kallamar wouldn’t fight back, but that would ignore her violence towards the Lamb (who she was terrified of). Shamura is the Bishop of War, and they wouldn’t have willingly let Narinder attack them. Heket sure as Hell wouldn’t have let Narinder get away unscathed if he attacked her head on. Leshy is the only one who wouldn’t have stood a chance.
This makes it seem like he stalked and attacked them while they weren’t aware. 
x
So, we know why Narinder did what he did. He said he was betrayed. But we also know that it was Shamura’s idea to imprison him, so why did he target his entire family? 
This I believe was out of spite for Shamura themself, as they were obviously devoted to their siblings. 
They’re willing to fight the Lamb, knowing they’d be slaughtered, simply in the honor of the other three Bishops. 
They kept Narinder alive because they couldn’t bear to kill him. They even brought two innocent children to him so that he wouldn’t be “lonely”.
They already know what’s to come, but they still show up to Anchordeep to send enemies the Lamb’s way just to buy Kallamar more time to live.
They always appear by their siblings’ sides when they confront the Lamb, save for Kallamar. They still are there though, just in the background.
x
Back to Kallamar. This squid could’ve hopped into the ocean and left. She chose not to, even though she was terrified. She doesn’t attempt to fortify the door to her temple. She flat out tells the Lamb where she’ll be. She has her weapons already on her by the time they arrive.
I just feel like if you don’t give a fuck, you wouldn’t do all that. Why is it just assumed that she is selfish and didn’t love her siblings? Because she was terrified and saying anything to avoid being sent to Narinder? 
Would you want to be sent to your abusive relative who despises you? 
Would you not feel a bit angry that your eldest sibling would choose to keep this absolute lunatic alive, even against common sense and the safety of yourself and your younger siblings.
Would you feel a sense of blind loyalty to someone who values your ABUSER over you? 
Kallamar was afraid of Narinder before he ripped her ears off. Why is that? You aren’t just terrified of somebody for no reason. 
The Lamb kills her younger siblings. 
Kallamar knows she will be sent straight to him, condemned to eternal suffering.
Like what are we expecting from her? “Ah yeah, this is fine. I’m fine. I’m not upset at all that my enabler of a sibling chose an abuser over me, refused to put him down after he revealed himself to be unhinged, and forced me and the others into a wild goose chase concerning sheep. I’m not at all bothered that my baby siblings have been slaughtered and that I’m next. Me personally? I’m chilling!”
🙄 Y’all always on this “Narinder redemption”, WHAT ABOUT KALLAMAR? Why isn’t she allowed grace? The Bishops aren’t good creatures, but neither is their brother. We should acknowledge that and acknowledge the nuance. 
This post was brought to you by my homoerotic devotion for Kallamar and my long history of living in an abusive, dysfunctional household. 
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cryptidsm00cher · 7 months
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okay i have to get my fnaf movie spoilers out bc i just saw it and i’m losing my MIND
FNAF MOVIE SPOILERS DO NOT SCROLLLL
okay first off. fucking phenomenal. the lore is now so confusing and fucked up and different from the games and i cannot wait to see what they do with it. IT WAS SO MUCH SCARIER THAN I WAS EXPECTING N GORY TOO RAHHHH
i’m still not understanding the motives of william though. why would he drive all the way to nevada to get a kid and potentially keep him? vanessa says she met him. she didn’t say she saw him she MET him, which leads me to believe he may have been alive for awhile. so why?
BUT ONTO THE REAL SHIT I WANNA TALK ABT. VANESSA. MY WIFE. MY POOKIE MY BEAUTIFUL WOMAN.
i’m thinking abt her so hard rn. when the robbers broke in and vanessa found out, i was thinking to myself, how did she not find the bodies? did the animatronics put them in the suits already? but then who cleaned the blood? then i got to thinking about it and it was obvious that william must have cleaned everything up so michael wouldn’t see. vanessa knew those people were dead. she knew what happened. her father asked her to cover it up like always. she was just going along with his plan and had no part in identifying or reporting the bodies, she likely just helped put the bodies away.
and then it fucking hit me. the blood on the door from hank being killed by bonnie. if william had cleaned that it would’ve been completely thoroughly cleaned. the robots didn’t clean it, they would’ve done a messy job and william knows that. but who would want michael to find out? to discover the blood? who knows how observant michael can be at this point?
fucking
vanessa
AFTON
she fucking saw that blood stain. her dad told her to wipe it away so michael didn’t see it, get suspicious and get prepared or quit. but vanessa wanted him to see it. needed him to see it. so that she had help, so he could free the kids and help her stop her father. so she cleaned it up sloppily, just out of sight from the outside but clear if you were on the inside. clear where michael would be standing.
AND I DONT CARE IF THATS TOO ELABORATE AND MICHAEL WAS PROBABLY JUST BEING SLOPPY. IDC!!! BC WE SEE HOW NERVOUS HE IS AROUND MICHAEL. HE KNOWS HE CANT GET CAUGHT. HE KNOWS TO BE CAREFUL. VANESSA INTERFERED.
anyways that’s my post remember to kiss vanessa on the mouth
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beejbsbswiwisnsnwwk · 12 days
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Belos au (I’m probably never going to elaborate on this lmao)
I don’t believe that fucker is dead.
Au that in the time skip, Belos manages to reform his body in the ground, similar to a grimwalker as his body takes energy and magic around him to regenerate.
Belos manages to crawl himself out of the ground, and is completely and utterly fucking miserable that he is back in the boiling isles. He is consciously aware that he was wrong about all witches, and while he won’t admit it, it is killing him inside.
He wanders around the forests, his body incredibly weak as if he was hardly hanging on. He tries so many times to kill himself, but due to that horrid curse and his body’s tolerance, he can’t die. He’s still immortal, and eventually, he will come back. Belos has learned that time and time and time again by now.
He gets covered in scars, more so than before, some half healed, others not. He doesn’t care anymore. He yearns for nothing more than death itself. He wants to die so badly. Just please let him die.
Due to his somewhat disoriented and incredibly vulnerable state, he is completely unaware that he is in the forest that the Owl House is in. Whoops. He soon passes out once again on the border of the forest, leaving Luz and Hunter to find him again.
(I honestly can’t think of a single thing in cannon that they would do, so….a tiny little plot hole)
Belos is brought back to the Owl House, and while everyone was expecting a fight or a lash out, or something severe like every other time…he just does nothing. He doesn’t fight, he’s just completely defeated. No sense of fight left, nothing. He wants to die. He doesn’t want to be stuck in the boiling isles for another moment, let alone with the people he attempted to murder, and who he severely abused.
While yes, he is still incredibly manipulative, it doesn’t have the same charm. It’s more so to not appear as weak and depressed as he actually is, once again hiding behind a facade. Just one that is not well crafted and lacks the energy to be convincing.
And, for the love of Titan, he wants Caleb back. Belos visibly cannot stand to look at Hunter, let alone look him in the eyes. He knows he’s wrong, yet he won’t admit that. But he isn’t going to put in the fight to defend himself either.
He’s too tired.
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Reasons why taking Dazai temporarily out of action (so people think he’s dead or lost) while everything goes horribly wrong would be fantastic for character development:
Atsushi will have to navigate mostly on his own and cannot rely on Dazai as a fallback. We can have an extension of his interpretations of what the people he knows - Dazai, Akutagawa, etc. - would want him to do as we saw after Teruko told him the truth of the DoA. Eventually, he’ll learn to trust his own judgement more.
I can really see Akutagawa stepping up and taking charge actually. I think he’s matured enough that Dazai being apparently “lost” wouldn’t make him reckless but instead more determined. I can see him being a lot more forthright about relying on Atsushi, and finding value in that partnership. “One last test” to see if he can fix something Dazai couldn’t - and at the end of it, here’s where he finally finds his worth. In the path, and not the goal, ultimately.
We might finally see elaboration on what Chuuya’s reaction was to Dazai leaving the Mafia. We are supposed to get that eventually, and I do think that having him think Dazai is actually gone might mean we get more of him in the main story. I’d like to see him with sskk, anyways.
It would destabilize Kunikida. They care about each other and they work well together. With Kunikida being second in command to Fukuzawa (who is not likely to be handling things well), fresh off of having his ideals torn asunder and psychologically screwed with by Jouno, the loss of his partner may result in Kunikida getting close to that breaking point Dazai hopes he never reaches.
Dazai being gone also saddles Ranpo with a lot more responsibility as the sole remaining genius of the Agency. If Fukuzawa and Kunikida are not in a fit state to lead, that makes the burden even heavier on him. I’m still holding out for a far more ruthless Ranpo than we’ve seen before, desperate as he is to keep the Agency afloat.
Potential reaction from Mori, or more Mafia information?
Opportunity to focus on Kyouka, especially given what might be a connection between her parents’ murder and Fyodor, as well as it being Dazai who gave her that talk about being able to change. Throw in Kouyou maybe, since she was the one who got the info on her parents in the first place. Please.
Reasons why this definitely won’t happen:
It looks like we’ve been isekai’d or reverse isekai’d for the season 5 finale. As such, we’re going to be jumping into the action of the next plot probably right away. These character moments would only really work if there was downtime between the infection arc and this upcoming one.
Dazai is Asagiri’s specialest boy
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mychlapci · 3 months
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I would love to hear some personal favourites with merformers, whether it be ships or physical traits or culture ideas or yknow pure porn, totally not because I’m trying to write a merformers research facility fic, whaaaat noooo, why would you think thattttt
- Robooby
NICE, I can ramble about merformers. this will also be incoherent, but, here we go.
- i think mers are still fully metal. the tail folds cleverly, looking fluid and organic, but it's still 100% metal. what little "organic" or soft parts they have, i think that'd be their array, and various decorative fins. Defensive or attack fins are still metal.
- my favourite merformers culture thing still is the licking inside of someone’s mouth that i already talked about. I think they don’t have a concept of kissing as cybertronians know it, so this isn’t exactly a kiss, it’s much more intimate and significant, since it’s done to show submission to someone. It’s basically saying “i belong to you” in a romantic, platonic, or familial way. I also think mers have elaborate mating dances, embedded deep into their instincts, and will automatically initiate them before trying to have sex.
- I think mers are fully sentient, but they’re far too instinct-driven for researchers to really figure that out until a few years in (early facilities were not very… nice). Unlike cybertronians, they have to hunt for food and still worry about predators and can only reproduce between each other, so their instincts would have never evolved out of them. They are, however, intelligent. There are cities, or, their versions of cities in the depths of the ocean, they have culture and holidays and jewelry (oh lord, i love to put merformers in jewelry. Mers wearing shells and crystals as necklaces, or more morbidly so, teeth and fangs of things they’ve killed, membranes of dead predators as pretty translucent cloaks….)
- I still like the idea of the Lost Light being a ship that crashed into the ocean ages ago and now it’s used as a little hang-out spot for various mers (re: the lost light crew). Or, as a mating spot.
- As for ships, I am still very fond of the idea of Minimus being a hermit crab occupying the dead metal shell of a long-dead Ultra Magnus, and Megatron, who is of the same genotype (the same sub-species of fish) as Ultra Magnus was, becomes deeply enamoured with him after some time spent together, only to be met with a lot of disappointment when it turns out that he’s unable to mate Magnus (because he’s cumming into Magnus’s tank, and well, the dead shell of Ultra Magnus is in no state to be having pups). Minimus is unable to mate Megatron either because the reserves Ultra Magnus has are too old and sterile.
Of course, I am very into veterinarian/caretaker Ratchet and mer Drift. Or facility staff Drift and mer Ratchet. the interspecies thing really hits the spot with these two. But also, let's remember that fanfic i tried to write, where Ratchet has lived in capture for most of his life and Drift is a wild mer that was put into his tank and they struggle to socialize. I like that.
- I really like to think old and fertile is a very desirable trait for most mers. It’s something that the staff of many facilities don’t figure out for a while, but older mers who’ve kept their fertility are much better at having clutches than younger ones. This goes for Ratchet, for Megatron, for Optimus (though we’ve never had mer Optimus in here, which is a pity), for Rung. An old mer is usually harder to mate with but absolutely worth it.
- I think they speak their own language, but are capable of learning how to fluently communicate with cybertronians. "domesticated" mers (re: mers that have lived in a facility for most of their life and cannot survive in the wild anymore) would be indistinguishable from a regular cybertronian if it wasnt for the tail
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nildespirandum · 8 months
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Thank you to everyone who has been patient during dry spell, and who has continued to send well wishes and kind thoughts. I cannot tell what it has meant to me.
Story is 18+ only
Tags found on AO3.
The cold hallways of Skadi’s great fortress, where it stood as guardian between the realms of the living and the dead, were predictably stark and massive, all hewn from meteoric rock by a combination of the crude strength of giants and draugr and the magicks of Hel. While nothing to the splendor of Asgard’s palace, or outhouses if it came to that, Loki silently admitted that there was a rough grandeur to both its scale and the gleaming texture of the stone which, along with a few floating orbs of glowing ice to give light, were as close as there came to anything hinting at decor.
No doubt Skadi considered interior design beneath contempt, which was just as well for Loki was certain her taste would leave everything to be desired.
Leaving his cell had been insultingly easy. No guards stood outside of it nor was any elaborate spell or clever cantrip used to keep him within. Loki had touched the blank side of the lock’s hasp on the interior with the tip of a black claw, scraping it in circles to cause the lock to pick itself. The spell was one that he had created in his youth when he and Thor were oft times sent to their rooms to ruminate on their misbehaviors.
As if Loki were ever inclined to guilt or Thor to thought.
Loki peeked out, as did Nora. She no longer even came to his shoulder, so she stood under his arm.  They each looked up the hall and back, and then at each other.  With her head tipped back, Nora’s throat was rather appealingly displayed to him, making him wonder how hard he could bite the side of it with his fangs before it would cause her the unpleasant sort of pain…  And could he make her enjoy even that….? 
And could he…?
Closing his eyes to take a moment to gather his thoughts from where they had sunk, Loki realized that not only had the transformation to this primitive Frost Giant form done wonders for his poor, wounded cock, additionally it had woken in him the Jotun enthusiasm for mortal flesh.  Combined with his own - and here he beat back the word that wanted to come to the forefront of his mind - fascination with Nora, it would make for a dangerous distraction.
“Are we going to go for it or…?”  Nora was still looking at him, brows raised, soft mouth wet and ever so slightly open.
“I don’t know that this is the time or the place,” Loki said, trying to sound unwilling though he knew his tone was more smarmy than disinterested.
“I mean, should we go, you big weirdo.  I know some people are turned on by dungeons but they probably aren’t literal dungeons.”  She frowned slightly.  “Though it wouldn’t be an option for most people back home, even if they were into literal, actual dungeons.  In which case I’m not sure-”
He could tell that her nerves were getting to her and that she would go on like that indefinitely if not stopped.  Carefully, he did not quite touch her lips with one of his newly grown black talons, since he was unsure how sharp they were, and nodded.  
“Right, yes.  We should get on with it, then.” 
Also, wrong. For in his case, literal dungeons seemed to be a turn-on, presuming Loki was interpreting that human expression correctly.  He’d certainly spent enough time in them to develop not a fetish or rather, at least a lack of squeamishness about what was appropriate or even enticing to do within one.  
He held the cell door open, allowing Nora to slip under his arm, and then carefully shut it.  Despite that care, the metal on metal on wood of it seemed to ring out like a carillon in the still and silence. 
Peering within each cell as they passed proved that they all were as empty as the hallway.  At its end nearest to the metal gate that separated them from the stairway up and out there was a massive lock-up that looked as if it were designed to hold dozens.  
Within was the only other prisoner they had seen, who seemed to be asleep or unconscious beneath a pile of furs in a back corner.
Nora pointed towards the pile, then made a gesture towards the lock on the cell door.  
Absolutely not, Loki thought, walking on.
Her now so tiny hand hooked around his wrist, as her fingers could no longer come close to closing on it, and pulled.  Where before her touch had been warm now it burned.  Burned through tough, blue skin, through muscle, to bone, where it seemed to ignite his marrow, lashing him with fire on the deepest level possible.  
He was wonderstruck how much he craved the pain, the ache.  Wanted to know how if her cold little hand caused that much fire what might her mouth do?  Or Bor help him, the sure venomous wet between her lips, between her legs. 
Turn him into a pile of tumescent ash, Loki rather suspected.  
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?” Nora whispered.  
“As someone with far more enemies than is the average, I can assure you otherwise,” he whispered back, leaning down close to her ear, trying not to sniff her skin.  Even when blue and bedecked with horns a prince should keep a little of his dignity.  
“Still, Skadi is… her people are…” Nora stopped and looked down at her dress and frowned.  “They aren’t very respectful of their prisoner’s persons.  It would feel shitty to leave someone here.”
Her voice was less than steady, less than Nora.
Not liking to consider what that might mean, Loki tucked her tone away for later questions when they were free. “That may be so, but she wards the borderlands between the living and the dead and trust me, there are plenty of true criminals, necromancers, graverobbers, and multiple fashions of the ambulatory dead that she has good reason to hold imprisoned.  Also,” he added, “this is not a prison break, it is more in line of espionage, which means the fewer involved the safer.”
“If someone is being held here at least it would be more of a distraction for the guards to be chasing them and us,” she countered, sounding more like herself.
“That never really works the way one thinks it will.  Besides which, don’t think I don’t know that you simply want to release whoever it is for a bit of revenge on Skadi and her hamfisted chambermaids.”
“And you, of all people, have a problem with that?”
“On the contrary, in more typical circumstances I would be all for it, but we are on a mission, as you might recall.”
“Normal circumstances?  What normal circumstances would… never mind, I just remembered who I am talking to, which considering the current state of both of us doesn’t say good things about my sense of reality.”
That was, Loki thought, feeling the weight of his horned brow and again noting her sartorially created cleavage, an understatement.
“Plus, I’m not sure I wish to be rescued by such noisy people,” came a voice that most kindly might be described as sepulchral from the pile of furs, which shifted about and then fell off the figure that rose from beneath them, stretching tall enough that skeletal fingers scraped the ceiling. “What good would come of it, if I were to then be talked to incessantly?”  Dark, blue-skinned, and of a size of an Asgardian, with glowing green eyes, and a decidedly undead thinness draped in a shroud rather than a shift, it took Loki a moment to recognise the woman for what she was.  
“Disir…” he let the word trail away, sliding his foot to the right and shifting his shoulders so his vast body was between her and Nora, though he trusted Skadi would not hold such a creature in her fortress were she not sure of being able to keep it contained.
“One of,” she nodded, “Hlökk.”  She moved towards the front of the cell, her motions quick yet stiff, as if from the cold.  Rather, he knew, it was from her muscles being desiccated, her sinews dust, her entire self animated by will and spite rather than life.  With a final, swift jerking motion she stood all but resting against the cold iron bars.  Close enough that her papery blue flesh began to wither from its influence.  Standing effortlessly on the tips of her toes, she peered into his face, a smile of cracked teeth and parched lips flashed, and then retreated.  
“I have not seen a Jotun of your type since I was a young girl newly in the service of Bor, and they were ancient and few then.  Those last died upon my sister’s spears, or so was thought.  But you,” she, without Loki’s scruples, took a deep, sniffing breath, leaning her head back and opening the corrupt cavern of her mouth like a cat to taste the smell of them upon the air.  
“You look of Jotunheim yet smell of Asgard, giant.  Or is that her?”  Quicker than he could see Hlökk stepped twice to the right so she could aim her nose towards Nora.  “No,” the Disir dismissed.  “Mortal. Full of death and decay. But you, you are-”
The Aesir had few enemies that they feared, for to die in battle against a worthy foe was their greatest good.  The cannibalistic, ever-dying, never-dead Disir, cursed by Bor to crave the flesh of those they formerly served, were at the top of a very short list.  Though only a handful in number, stories of their enormities and disgusting habits had been used to keep naughty Asgardian children from creeping from bed late at night for eons.
Naughty Asgardian children other than himself, of course.  The boogeyman or haint had not been born that could have kept young Loki from wandering the halls and secret rooms of the palace under cover of friendly dark.    
“Keep your nose to yourself, Disir, this is one god you will not gorge upon.  Come along,” he then said to Nora, gesturing towards the stairwell.  She frowned and seemed inclined to argue when the Disir ran her long, dehydrated tongue over her lips.
A sound like dried leaves being blown across stone.
“Aesir and Jotun flesh as one.  A delicacy untried by me or any sister of mine….”
“Right,” Loki knew there were bars and his magic between the Disir and his becoming her supper and he did not care.  Lifting Nora’s little self into his arms, he ignored her protests and took three long strides when behind them the Cursed One whispered.
“The Bók Lífs og Dauða .”
“Wait,” Nora said.
Loki took another step.
“What else might Odin’s Trickster changeling want in the hall of his most implacable enemy?”  The words were spoke soft and thoughtful as were, “How helpful might it be for one to know just where the Giantess kept such a treasure.”
Loki whirled about, stalked back to the cell, realized he was still holding Nora who was now within reach of the Disir should it choose to reach its spindly, iron-muscled arm through the bars, and quickly put her down and placed himself back between them.  He realized it was a false gallantry since he was what the nasty thing was interested in getting her teeth into.
“Let me guess, you know where the Book is, and in return for your freedom you will tell me where to find it?”
Nodding, glowing green eyes managing to look amused, the Disir said, “And you give me one of your toes.  I am well past starved.”
“Absolutely not!”
“What the fuck?”
Loki and Nora’s protests tangled together.
The Disir leaned against the bars of the cell, picking at her gray and broken nails, “Ragnarok is coming early season.  I would think one little piggy would be small enough payment to put the Twilight of the Gods off by a few hundred millennia or more, Odinson.  Your father’s favor would be the least of your rewards for such an act.”
He looked down at Nora, who spoke in a quick whisper.  “Do you know who she is?  What is she talking about?  Why does she want one of your toes?  What the hell is wrong with everyone in space?”
It was a good question.
He had a better one, for the Disir, “Why should I trust you?”
The Disir spoke, this time in Ancient Asgardian rather than the All-tongue, so Nora could not understand.
“Trust is for naifs and babes, I shall give you my Word of Bond upon mine and my sister's unlives.  Take it, Trickster, or walk your little mortal through the endless halls of Elvidner until she freezes or you are caught and she is dragged to Skadi’s bed to die serving there, and you back to the witless brutality of this pit, that shall end in your skinned body being hung from the battlements.”
With a sigh, Loki answered back in the same language, “Well, if you put it that way, I suppose I’ll still have nine more.”  He reached towards the lock and then halted, “I choose which one I give up.”
The Disir inclined her head.  Graciously.
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zileans-big-cl0ck · 7 months
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hello ive never sent a request b4 not sure how this works pls bare with me too 😿😿 ive seen that u write for pyke and camille (my two fav characters) and i was wondering if u could write anything sfw/nsfw for one of them because theres barely any content for them, ty in advance 😸
✦–Pyke & Camille General Headcanons.✦ (SFW & NSFW)
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✦I see someone’s taste never misses, Camille and Pyke as favourite characters!
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✧ prompt: ✧ just feeling inspired today to actually write.
✧ champions: ✧ Camille, the Steel Shadow; Pyke, the Bloodharbor Ripper.
✧ reader: ✧ gender neutral.
✧ author’s note: ✧ I feel like Camille isn’t my champion to write tbh, I absolutely cannot caught her character; please pardon me. PYKE ON THE OTHER HAND- But, really, you don’t even know how I’ve been DYING to write something for my favourite boy Pyke. Ignore any mistakes; as much as I enjoyed writing this, I’m really tired :sob:.
masterlist
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✦Camille, SFW:
Maybe she is a dominant, noble woman, but you still should valet her, treat he with the greatest respect. That amuses her.
Taking care of her well-being is your sacred order. The lady must be always pleased, cherished.
Of course she can treat herself right. She is a proud, self-respecting woman. But that doesn’t mean she does not enjoy making you submit, serve and obey.
Camille treats you, like you deseve to be treated - like an adorable pet that belongs to her.
And she rewards you generously, always making you accompany her, even if it means sharing with you and her wealthy co-workers the same secret informations of her important work. That is Camille’s way to bestow you with her trust, which is shared like a true gift, making you her little secretary and confidant.
She always keeps you near herself in case anything worrisome happened - or in case someone decided to profane her delicate belonging. Camille is a jealous and controlling woman who holds a firm border between her partner and anyone who may cross their path; she openly fears that the others, the vociferous people, may have bad influence on you. And you must stay as her property, and only hers.
Unfortunately, this entails with her sometimes treating you infantile, like you are not fully responsible. But don’t worry, it also means that she is always ready to do something for you, even if it is the hardest, most cumbersome work that requiers a professional. Because that’s who she is - a capable, deadly woman.
✦Pyke, SFW:
He always watches you from a distance. Pyke is a protective lover, but he desires to stay unseen by the others, all because of his well-known esteem as the Bloodharbor Ripper, the doom of captains. Even if you are not aware of his presence, he is alwats with you, stalking from the shadows, creeping around somewhere between the realms of the dead and mortals like a ghost, keeping an eye on you in case anything disturbed your peace. He would never stand anyone troubling you, which unfortunately can happen anytime in this perilous land. He is almost like a guardian angel, scared for your life and positive to take care of it, but cursed himself.
When he isn’t working, he likes reading. And I will not elaborate on that; Pyke has literally a Shakespeare quote in his own voicelines. He loves reading and you comming up with new book titles and recommendations for him, since he doesn’t have much time exploring this topic himself - his work consumes most of his sacred time, which he divides only between the ardous hunt for his victims and - you.
Though he appreciates your interest in his work, your questions about his day, even if their seem to serve no higher purpose than to start a conversation, he doesn’t want you to know all about his job. Not the things he has done to fulfill the meaning of his afterlife and cross all the names from the manifest. As Pyke came to conclusion, he might be unsure of your possible reaction to him being a killer, which you probably know either way, just never saw it on your eyes. At least he took care of it, to never commit such a dirty work before you. It’s not like he didn’t give you his whole trust, but you seeing his murderous persona might change your feelings towards him- that’s what he believes. And moreover, you might not want to see him how much pleasure he takes from killing.
He would never want you to risk your safety in order to try and get any information about his past, if you ever came up with idea so preposterous. Even if you were convinced that you might get into your hands a piece of knowledge that was out of reach for Pyke for years, maybe even decades. Of course he had shared with you the scraps of memories he still remembered, but there was never nothing solid, declaiming a consistent story. And he stopped caring about it long ago, entombing all the lost feelings in exchange for a new life (well, afterlife), new purpose, new emotions, even if they were ment to be irrelevant forever. Pyke befriended the truth - he, his new self, was never ment to meet with the man he was once before. Even if you were sweet enough, determined, to try and fight, he would turn you off - it didn’t matter if he couldn’t even remember it.
But he hoped it didn’t make you think that he didn’t trust you. He always answers your questions without keeping any bloody details to himself, just doesn’t tend to cover the subject by himself.
✦Camille, NSFW:
The first rule to obey: refer to Camille only as ”Ma’am”, ”My Lady” or, eventually, if she lets you, ”mommy”, so she could jovially call you her pet. A good, obedient little one, who can follow her around.
She would show you to her family, acquaintances, or co-workers with a proud, lustful look. She owns you not only so she could command you, but also to show a little off, to parade with her affable pet.
But you will always remain as her little one, the one under, the once she could crush, quite literally.
She loves the control she wields. Camille is a competent person who clearly deserves her position in the social hierarchy, same as under the cover of blankets. Or just thin walls of her office, where she also adores having you weak before herself.
She often wants you to wear revealing clothes, so the others could trace their lustful gazes, unnoticed as first, but over you. It is a perilous game - she always takes whatever she wants and her feelings are deep, sharp and adamant like blades, incandescent like fire. But you are tantalizing for her, especially when trying to get rid of woeful surrounding.
Camille would never let anyone else touch you, not even get close to you, but how she enjoys watching other people desiring you, yet not being able to ever caught your attention, as your heart belongs to Camille and only her.
Walking around her apartmnet nude, pitiful, with remorse in your eyes, is a sudden turn on for her. She knows you taunt her, tantalizing by the move of your hips, the place where she wants to dig her nails in while putting you in your place, right under her.
Her legs are obviously her deadliest weapon, but also the sweetest gift she can offer. She wants your head between them, squized and trapped in something between a full of pleasure, hot moment and a bewildering threat of her scissors-like blades.
Oh, how she enjoys crushing you under herself, sitting, rolling her hips just to make you squeak, beg and cry for more. And for a opportunity to breathe, as she toys with your fear.
Camille uses her voice to order you around, as she expects unquestionable obedience. The cybernetic, blue lights of her eyes never leave you, always scanning, petrifying, searching.
She never reaches her climax first. She can hold her pleasure back, just until your own release, just to see you succumb to her will and her orders. Only then Camille lets herself cum too, her moans being the sweetest reward you could get.
✦Pyke, NSFW:
What comes first, is that he is not needy at all. Even if Pyke desires touch, he would never willingly admit it, claiming that he is a ruthless murderer. He doesn’t need anything so prosaic.
So you are the one bestowed with the great honor to initiate sex.
And when it actually comes to it? He is absolutely melting, so quickly turned on. Though he wouldn’t admit that, again.
And what turns him on the quickest is probably you admiring him, tracing your fingers over his tattooed arms, your body near his chest, pulsing with pure life, so innocent in its vitality. Because it is something he lacks and therefore - desires with curiosity.
And though it might seem unusual for someone like him - bodyworshipping. An absolute lover for this one, especially when you praise or compliment.
He gets hot very quickly, which always makes him curse under his breath; especially whenever you test his patience. Because of his protectivness, it isn’t unusual of him to grab you with one of his hands onto his lap, always looking for an opportunity to touch you and to be touched, to have you really close. Just to have your beating heart near his quiet presence. Oh, and he is never immune to your teasing, even the slighest move of your hips, even your fingertips brushing his bare chest, is everything to make him grunt with approval.
The sensation of your soft skin, so different from the harsh world around, the fearsome depths, his disgusting prey made from men, intrigues him, alongside with the sick fascination with the contrast between you - a mortal that if he hurts, will surely suffer, and him - a shadow of the past, a revenant, whose heart doesn’t beat anymore.
But he fears you escaping him, like his victims always try. So he pins you, either to the bed below you or any other surface, making sure that you can not hide or run away. Maybe even ties you, but holding you by your wrists with his firm grip until you fully comprehends that you are trapped, usually works.
Despite Pyke’s protectivness, he is nothing close to being gentle in bed. He doesn’t even remember the word gentle anymore, therefore it is natural to treat you they way he thinks is satisfying. It's not like he is brutal, but he takes unimaginable pleasure from pinning your body, much smaller in comparison to his own, by his bare hands sculped with tattoos with force, to pull you hair and to have you whimpering into pillows.
Let him choke you. He is fascinated by the thrill of holding your life in his hands, the same hands that killed countless of men, now showing mercy to someone so dear to him, fragile and mellow. A person he could never harvest the life from, but still takes a sadistic kind of pleasure from playing with this idea. He could do anything to you, because you trusted him, but he won’t cross your boundaries - and he would never let anyone else do that.
Whenever you turn pale under him, white from fear, his gaze stalks covetously, devouring and claiming. But you can read nothing from his face, even if he takes his mask off, as he stays unmoved - but not stoic, he was never a philosopher. Rather in awe, like a conqueror having the key to his soul beneath him.
Your shaky breathing is tantalizing, when you struggle to inale, seeking mercy with your pitful eyes. Because he prefers them on himself, when gorgeous pupils trace his moves, fixed on his body, proudly towering over you.
Pyke is also well aware of the impact that his voice has on you. He is a wraith of his past self, yet he kept his deep, throaty voice that makes you shiver and obey.
Therefore he is suprisingly good at dirty talking, making the voice a great advantage.
Pyke can’t help himself and when with you - doesn’t hold back. Your presence, you squeezing around him, moaning, letting him do these things to you, doesn’t let him last for too long. Even with being the bloody killer, you are his only weakness and therefore - the ultimate form of pleasure, when he can do nothing against your charm, the muffled sounds you let out and the hot atmosphere. Often cums before you, which doesn’t mean he is done.
May be also a little egoistic becausae of the ignorance of your pleas to be more gentle. Just a little.
Also a fan of drunk sex, Pyke is a pirate after all. It’s probably in his blood.
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muffinsin · 4 months
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Hey, I like to think castle Dimitrescu has a nice sizable garden. I like to think the family employs maids to upkeep the gardens alongside the vineyards; planting and designing elaborate flower beds, Roman statues, trellises, arbor gate, a beautiful hedge maze mixed with climbing roses, secluded seating in dead ends and an elegant fountain hidden in the middle. I also like to think that once spring has sprung, Daniela reads in the gardens rather than the library.
I also also like to think that one late summer night, a curious outsider scales the garden walls for the sole purpose of picking a rose. What they find instead is Dani, sitting by the fountain reading out loud Romeo and Juliet. Enchanted by the youngest Dimitrescu’s beauty, the outsider (fem g!p) admires from afar. Dani is reading Act 2 scene 2 where Romeo scales the capulet garden wall to see Juliet again (aka the balcony scene). She reads out a Juliet line, “How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, And the place death, considering who thou art, If any of my kinsmen find thee here.” Before she can continue, the outsider reads out the Romeo line, “With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls, For stony limits cannot hold love out, And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.” Of course, this startles Dani at first, but soon she relaxes and finds herself taken by this dashing outsider. She gets the idea to test this outsider and see how long they can recite the story until things become…..too heated.
Lol I’m sure you can see a pattern with me. I love romance, especially the classics. Also, happy new year day!🎉
I absolutely agree about the garden!🪴 also such an interesting concept!👀 I’ll admit I’ve never read Romeo and Juliet lol so this might be a tad bit messier than I’d like it to be- won’t lie tho I had a lot of fun with it😬 Happy new year! 🎊 (little late as I took my time with this request, but still! Happy 2024 y’all!🎊)
Let’s get into it!
Masterlist 1
Masterlist 2
You barely manage to hold onto the stone wall as you climb alongside the small ledge. It’s cold, and slippery, and if it wasn’t for the vines covering it, you doubt you would be able to find your grip again at all.
Below you lies sure death by now, rocks and hills, thorns and boulders. You don’t spare it a glance now- never has looking down worked for anybody. You’ll just be able to return the way you came, all the way at the end of the ledge and into the tree that stands tall and proud.
A rose, is your goal.
You’re not sure why you’ve accepted this bet in the first place- to pluck a rose from the gardens of the Dimitrescu family. It’s by no means an easy task, much less one that promises safe return.
Maybe it’s your curiosity that led you to accept.
After all, the Dimitrescus are somewhat of a myth, merely a very real one.
You’ve never personally laid eyes on any of them, but heard the stories.
Stories of women, virgins, dragged off and made into wine. Others enslaved to work at the castle, at which a gruesome fate awaits them should they not perform well.
Other stories speak of a woman, a countess, taller than any man or woman one has ever seen. And three commanders, daughters.
It is said they are a family of royal standard, yet blood-thirsty huntresses willing to kill and slaughter innocent people.
You know of their distaste of men- everybody does.
And yet you have never seen them, not one of them. Are they truly as bad as they are made out to be? Are they filthy hags with bloodied limbs and large, unforgiving eyes?
It says it is curiosity that kills the cat, and yet you’re feeling exceptionally curious.
Perhaps, your questions will be answered at last.
You steady your grip as you near what must be the gardens of the castle. The summer air is warm, and even from the opposite side of the wall do you smell the scent of many blooming flowers.
You freeze momentarily at a voice. Have you been discovered?
No, the voice is faint, and dreamy. Soft, and beautiful. You feel as though pulled in.
Faster and more eager than you should, you scale the ledge faster, eager to see who this beautiful voice belongs to.
“What man art thou that, thus bescreened in night, so stumblest on my counsel”, the dreamy voice goes on.
You frown- you know this quotation.
For a moment you feel a small blush creep to your face- how fitting the line is, in a way. Only is it you who suddenly has their mind invaded by the calm, soft voice from the other side of the wall.
It’s soft and warm, gentle and yet- hopeful. Phrases roll off the sweet maiden’s tongue like honeyed words, from what must be honeyed lips.
You wonder- is this one of the women kidnapped by the almighty Dimitrescu family? A beauty trapped in the castle? You would free her, and yet beg her to sing her sweet phrases more and more.
You keep moving, you can see a bunch of thicker vines near you, perfect to climb the thick stone wall and make your way into what can only be the Garden of Eden.
“By a name. I know not how to tell thee who I am. My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, Because it is an enemy to thee. Had I it written, I would tear the word.”, the dainty creature reads aloud.
You grunt quietly as you at last climb the thick vines. As though enchanted by a siren’s spell, your eyes immediately find the woman the beautiful voice belongs to, and are at once unable to gaze away from her for even a moment.
Auburn hair falls down her back and shoulders, glistening in the beautiful light of the moon. It has her skin appear almost white-grayed, the pale color a contrast to her dark clothing.
She is ethereal, you realize. You can’t make out the details of her face from a distance, the urge to move closer to her taking over your mind.
The beauty sits perched on a small, regal looking bench, surrounded by flowers.
You watch her pick one, a white, large one, and bring it to her face. Even from the distance you see her eyes closing in content.
She’s completely in her own little world, it seems. It’s a beautiful sight to see. Never have you gazed upon such beauty and purity.
Then, she giggles, and it’s as though your heart skips several beats.
The flower you are supposed to pick- there are plenty right within your arms reach, yet you can’t be bothered. Your eyes have set on a by far more perfect prize.
The beautiful woman smells the flower once more before picking up the book resting in her lap again.
“My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words. Of that tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound. Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?”, she reads aloud in an angel’s voice, though she is giddy now. She seems to be reading to the flower she has picked, as though it was her beloved Romeo.
You’re blushing, the next line well on your mind. Again, it applies to you.
“Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.”, you whisper to yourself. What are you- a burglar, technically? A villager?- neither, if she shall not like even one. You wish to be whatever she wants you to be, for her.
Soon enough the dainty creature repeats, gently, the words from the verse.
“Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.”, she hums. You fully climb over the wall, hidden by the shadows as you step into the garden.
This woman, you notice in the back of your mind, doesn’t seem like a captive. Like a helpless maiden. She seems powerful, yet delicate.
Upon getting a closer look, you notice her golden eyes nearly glowing in the darkness of the night. They’re beautiful, unique and breathtaking.
You yearn to touch the beauty, to feel her words of love and affection addressed to you.
“How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and the place death, considering who thou art, if any of my kinsmen find thee here.”, she reads aloud, and her voice is so soft, so enchanting and alluring, seductive and sweet, innocent and tempting all at the same time, you can no longer hold back.
“With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out; And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me”, you blurt out.
She’s visibly startled, so much so that the flower falls from her delicate thighs and onto the stone pavement, her golden eyes bright and wide as she turns her head adorably, trying to find you.
It seems even before you step out of the shadows, she finds you.
Still, the beauty stares in bewilderment as you approach, stepping closer and closer. She takes a step back, gasping when the back of her knees hit the bench behind her.
To your shock, a sickle is summoned to her hand, and her position grows defensive. Perhaps it’s foolish that it took you until now to realize that the dainty creature is no helpless maiden, but one of the predators taunting the village and its inhabitants.
But, she’s pretty.
And so you march on no matter the risk, as though she was a siren and had lured you in.
When in front of her, you bend down somewhat gracefully to grasp and pick up the fallen flower. It’s shines in the moonlight, not entirely unlike the beautiful woman’s eyes.
When you rise and, with to Daniela surprising and never seen confidence, grasp her hand, you note a small, but surprised gasp coming from her.
Her hand is soft, but cold, and she gasps again as you bend down to place a light kiss to her knuckles.
How…romantic. You’re unlike anybody she has ever met or even laid eyes on.
The woman wordlessly stares, a blush on her pale cheeks making her seem more petite and innocent than she surely is.
As she accepts the flower back into her hand, words tumble from her lips- the continuation of the verse.
“If they do see thee, they will murder thee”, she whispers.
Unbeknownst to you, Daniela’s words ironically are a warning. If one of her sisters or mother was to spot you, you will be slain. Her eyes glisten with something- curiosity, love, hope, darkness. You feel as if you could drown in those beautiful pools of gold.
You hold her gaze. For some reason you find yourself deeply disappointed when her hand slips from yours.
She looks shy, yet seductive. She knows exactly what she is doing, and is yet cautious- you are an intruder, after all, with intentions unclear to her.
“Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords. Look thou but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity.”, you answer, stating Romeo’s verse.
Again, you seem to almost be responding to her warning in the poem of the beautiful words of the verse coming from your lips.
Then, a small promise falls from Daniela’s lips. Again, you would not know the true meaning of the spoken phrase until later.
“I would not for the world they saw thee here”, she says, and means it.
Her sisters will not find this delicious and intriguing intruder. You’re all hers, she decides.
You’re quick to respond to her.
“I have night's cloak to hide me from their eyes, and but thou love me, let them find me here. My life were better ended by their hate, than death proroguèd, wanting of thy love.”
You smile at her blush, as well as when you notice her breath quicken. This woman is adorable.
Daniela feels as though her head is spinning. She feels weak at her knees at your romantic words. This is like the most delightful of games!
The auburn haired woman grips the flower a little tighter, smirking at you as she smells it again and smiles.
With a light push to your shoulder, she walks past you, elegant in her slow and seductive movements.
“By whose direction found'st thou out this place?”, she asks, real curiosity burning in her golden eyes.
You see what she is doing, too. She’s testing you, to see how far you will be able to go until you cannot keep up with her.
As though you were the predator you know this woman apparently is, you stalk after her as she moves, admiration and want clear on your face whereas her is a perfect mask of seductiveness, hope and eagerness.
You don’t keep the beautiful woman waiting, instead answer proudly: “By love, that first did prompt me to inquire. He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot, yet wert thou as far as that vast shore washed with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise.”
The woman’s eyes shine at your answer, and yet as you reach out to grab her, she spins and keeps moving.
She’s a siren, and you’re eager to be pulled under.
Her fingertips caress the flowers she passes, the vines and even the cold stone wall. She rests on top of the stairs of a gazebo, excitement betrayed in her eyes.
You stare in anticipation, your greedy eyes taking in the sight of this woman. Her auburn hair falling gently and blowing in the warm wind, the black rose tattoo in her forehead symbolizing her house. You wish to trace it.
The choker necklace sitting snuggly around her throat, regal and gothic looking, with a single, green gemstone embedded in it.
Her large cleavage, exposed due to the V-Cut of her dress. You do your best not to stare, yet feel your dick twitching beneath your trousers at the sight and scent of the woman, the flowery and sweet one lingering in the air as long as she is only around. You feel your arousal rising with every passing moment.
She’s the most stunning creature you have ever encountered.
“Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face, else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek for that which thou hast heard me speak tonight. Fain would I dwell on form; fain, fain deny what I have spoke. But farewell, compliment. Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' And I will take thy word; yet if thou swear'st,
Thou mayst prove false. At lovers' perjuries they say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, if thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully; or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverse and say thee nay,
So thou wilt woo, but else not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, and therefore thou mayst think my behavior light. But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those that have more coying to be strange. I should have been more strange, I must confess, but that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, my true-love passion.
Therefore pardon me, and not impute this yielding to light love, which the dark night hath so discoverèd.”
By the end of her turn, she is in front of you, so close that you feel on fire, almost. Her hands, bare and soft, rest on your shoulders as she gazes down at you from the step she stands on. Golden eyes betray the arousal she feels, and give a hint towards the delusional “love” she believes to feel already.
It’s a dangerous game, and one you’re eager to play.
The woman gasps as you grip her hips, slim but soft, and allows you to lift her off the step.
Her golden eyes find you, tension building up farther between the two of you. Her gaze is piercing almost, as is yours.
“Lady, by yonder blessèd moon I vow, that tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-“, you begin, smiling softly as she eagerly responds, her hands squeezing your shoulders as you squeeze her hips.
Her cheeks are warm and pink as she talks, the dainty creature only yours for this moment.
“O, swear not by the moon, th'inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable.”, she responds, breathless.
Daniela feels eager, and she spots the eagerness in your eyes.
You feel her so close to you, and it’s making your head spin. All in you demands you to lean forwards and capture the woman’s soft looking lips in yours.
“What shall I swear by?”, comes your breathlessly spoken reply.
“Do not swear at all, or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I'll believe thee.”
You can no longer hold back.
A small, surprised gasp comes from the woman as you grip her back and push her forwards, your lips capturing hers effortlessly. She hums and moans against yours, her small noises more erotic than any you have ever heard before.
She is a seductress, a huntress, and you are her all too eager prey.
“Tell me your name, Juliet, I must know”, you beg, words hushed and whispered against her soft lips. She’s panting from the kiss, hands rising to your neck.
“Daniela”, she answers. “Daniela Dimitrescu”, she adds, as though there was any doubt remaining to her true identity.
You capture her lips in a kiss lest she can speak again, your tongue addicted to the taste of hers again already.
Her little noises, her moans and gasps, hums and giggles do a number on you. You must not look or reach down to feel yourself become hard, and you barely refrain from groping and kneading the soft flesh of her body.
Softly, you lead her inside the gazebo, and an equally soft gasp escapes your lips as the woman pushes you down on the bench.
You must not yearn for her touch, however, as she straddles your thighs immediately and leans in for yet another kiss, her hands coming up to the sleeves of your blouse, tugging gently.
You know what she wants, and grant it to the beauty.
With a simple movement you unbutton and take off your blouse, eyes watching hungrily as Daniela slips off your lap to undo the corset around her waist. You watch greedily as she pulls its strings and it falls to the floor, then reaches back to pull open her dress.
One by one skin is revealed as her dress inches down- pale shoulders, perky, round breasts and hard, slightly darker nipples, a soft stomach and waist with smooth and wide hips, black panties in the way to see her most intimate part. Thick thighs and black, near transparent tights, black heels. You can’t help ogling the beautiful creature.
Daniela blushes under your gaze, climbing back onto your lap as she kisses you. Your hips settle on her hips again, and you feel your bulge press up against her covered cunt.
You want nothing but to press up, to grind against her.
“Perfect”, you whisper, trailing kisses along her sensitive neck. She’s moaning and whimpering on top of you, hands kneading your thigh only arousing you more.
She cups your bulge, and you near bite down on her pale skin. Groans slip past your lips as she gropes and squeezes, eagerly exploring your body with one hand on your bulge, the other traveling up and down your front.
“You’re ethereal. Breathtaking”, you moan. You feel her shiver and hear her gasp at your words. She’s adorably sensitive as you prod at her neck, kissing, biting and sucking, creating hickeys on pale flesh.
Daniela lets out a light gasp as your hands slide up to her breasts, squeezing and cupping them. They’re large and round, soft and firm. A pull of her nipples has the redhead arch her back slightly for you.
“So beautiful”, you whisper, like you at last receive your prize. She whimpers, moaning and mewling softly for you.
With desperation clear in her golden eyes, Daniela grinds down on you, her warm panty-covered core rubbing against your bulge. You feel yourself growing painfully hard and twitching underneath her. You want release, and you want to grant her hers.
“May I, my fair lady?”, you whisper against her neck, lips brushing against her bruised and marked skin as your fingers slide down and toy with the waistband of her underwear.
She nods quickly, eagerly. “Yes, my love, please”, she gasps all so happily.
As soon as she stands enough to allow you to slide her underwear off, her eager hands grip the waistline of your trousers. Eager, seductive eyes set on you yet again and you nod, lifting your hips enough for her to pull the clothing down and expose you.
Your eyes widen as she drops to her knees, a hand snaked between her own legs, her other on your thigh. She stares up at you, submissively and blushing, yet so eager and enticing.
“Please”, you whisper, a gentle command for her to take you in her awaiting mouth. Daniela doesn’t have to be told twice, head leaning forwards as she takes you in, humming and moaning around your tip.
It’s been ages since she’s had one, she feels giddy with excitement at the prospect of getting to play with you!
You tangle your hand in her hair, feeling the soft locks as she bobs her head and squeezes your thigh.
Her cheeks are warm, her eyes bright whenever she glances up at you. Moans ripple from her throat and your head spins when she begins to finger herself, dragging moans and mewls from her lips which’s vibrations bring you immense pleasure.
At the squelching sound of her pussy accepting her fingers inside, you wish for nothing but to bury yourself deep within her.
She takes her fingers well, and is, by the sound of her fingers thrusting in and out, soaked.
You yearn to feel the woman around you, bouncing on your cock and receiving it hard from behind as her adorable, sexy breasts bounce for you, then clean the beauty up.
“Y-Yes, you’re doing so go-good!”, you praise, which only seems to spur her on more. Daniela hums and smiles, hips shaking for a moment as she curls her fingers within herself.
Truly, she would much rather have you inside than her fingers, if only so she wouldn’t have to be as gentle as she must be with her sharp nails.
She tastes the precum dripping from you for a moment, giggling as she lets go of your cock and licks it up eagerly. “Good girl”, you groan, panting and moaning for her. You cup your own breast and guide her head back to your cock, shivering as the minx drags her tongue along you and sucks your tip clean.
You gasp at the feeling, the pleasure driving you closer to your orgasm.
She too feels close, her thighs trembling and her hips bucking up as her thumb grazes against her clit and rubs it as she thrusts her fingers inside.
With gentle, shaky hands you grab her hair again and guide her back to her previous position, moaning as your cock slips back inside her warm and wet mouth and she bobs her head again.
You feel yourself at the back of her throat, pushing up against her collar necklace the deeper she takes you and gags around you.
Your fingers twitch as you play with your breasts, and your head spins. You’re so close, but want her to cum first. So you hold back and continue on moaning and gasping, praises for her falling from your lips that only edge her closer to her own orgasm.
Thankfully, she is not far away from hers, moaning and whimpering constantly with a flushed face and a mouth full of your cum.
At last you notice her cum, her moans and muffled scream bringing you to your own, as you hastily pull away to cover her chest and lips.
You pant and buck your hips beyond control at the erotic picture of the beautiful woman painted in your cum. It drips from her wet lips to her chin, sticks to her chest and collarbone.
You waste no time to pull her back on your lap, the woman’s glee giggles causing a wide smile to form on your face. She’s got you wrapped around your finger, with her sweet voice and adorable appearance and giggles, her unique physique as well as her beautiful eyes- and both of you know this.
Her lips meet yours once again. As you taste yourself on her tongue, you feel the primal urge to taste her.
Daniela blushes shyly when her wrist is grabbed and brought to your face, your eyes taking in the shimmer of slick wetness that coats her fingers.
When you wrap your mouth around the digits, the auburn haired woman grinds down again. Her wet cunt rubs directly against your cock and your head spins at the feeling of her wetness smeared against you.
You hum around her fingers, tasting the sweet, candy-like wetness that must be her cum. You almost chuckle. The sweet flavored taste matches her perfectly.
Daniela watches panting as you suck her fingers clean completely, only letting go of her wrist once all wetness is licked and sucked away.
As you feel your cock hardening between your legs and pushing up against her, Daniela squeaks adorably. She grinds down properly, moaning and whimpering at the feeling of her wet and sensitive clit rubbing against you.
As much as you are a fan of her wet body humping your cock, you barely have any restraint left. All of you urges you to push inside the beautiful woman.
“Can I?”, you ask, wanting to confirm her consent to this. Daniela giggles breathlessly, her hips raising already and her hand reaching between her legs as she sinks down on you.
“O-Oooh!~”, she moans, her mouth dropped open at the feeling of having you slide deep inside of her. She’s shivering and grips your shoulders tightly, as though to adjust to the feeling.
You stay still despite your urges to take the dainty creature and fuck her sore, instead allow her this time to get used to the feeling. Still, your cock twitches and throbs inside of her, and her cunt clenches around you as if to milk you of your cum.
“You feel s-so good, my love”, she whispers, panting and moaning as she moves her hips a little.
“As do you, my beautiful Daniela”
The phrase makes her head spin and has her clench around you tightly. To be called yours so boldly is doing things to her. She doesn’t ever want to let you go! No, you’re all hers, intruder or not. Her sisters would never have to find out…
Daniela gasps when your patience seems to come to an end. You thrust upwards roughly, eager to feel her clench around you again; and you are granted this.
“Divine”, you whisper back, your hands at her hips as you work your hips. You thrust fast and deep, and watch in delight as the redhead moans and shrieks from the pleasure, her hands tightening on your shoulders, her breasts bouncing as she is fucked on top of your lap.
Daniela’s head is thrown back when you lean down and wrap your lips around her breast, sucking eagerly. Now you have a taste of her, you are sure she is what can only be described as utter bliss.
“Ah-ah! A-AAAh!”, she shrieks and moans, little whimpers and moans falling from her black painted lips. She feels you thrust deep into her and does her best to match your thrusts, grinding down and panting soon at your pace.
You don’t deny her, instead move your hand down to rub her small clit in tight circles.
She can’t remember ever being taken like this; raw want and lust displayed in the form of pointed, skilled thrusts into her, hands gripping her hips tightly to ensure she would stay in place right where you want her, as well as the way your lips wrap around her nipple eagerly.
“Ple-A-AH! Yes! Yes! AAHMORE!”
She feels helpless in the best way, succumbing to pleasure and love, whimpering and gasping for more. Her thick ass presses against your balls every time she grinds down again, and as your limbs ache, you feel her riding you eagerly.
Daniela’s hips buck helplessly after a short while already. You feel her tightening around you every few seconds, her chest heaving and her arched back causing her breasts to push against you tighter.
You lose your other hand from her hip and slide it up her ribcage, until you cup her unoccupied breast.
The poor redhead feels herself be brought to her orgasm fast; with your cock buried deep inside of her and her clit rubbed, her sensitive nipples squeezed and sucked.
Eager to repay the favor, one of her hands slides down to cup your breast. The dainty thing is a lot stronger and naughtier than she appears, her fingers bringing you pleasure with ease even as her hips rise and fall.
She looks graceful riding you, even as her head is thrown back and her back is arched for you.
“S-So close, A-AAAAH! Y-yes! YES!”
You bite down on her gently, tearing yet another squeak and gasp from her lips. Her clit feels warm as it throbs under your fingertip, the needy woman so close.
When she cums, she tightens around you, so much it takes all of your willpower not to cum inside of her yet. You don’t want things to end just yet, too caught up in her bliss.
Daniela gasps when within moments she is picked up and turned, instead leaned against the bench with you still inside.
The new position allows you to thrust even deeper into your sweet newfound darling.
It’s ironic in a way; your intention to pick and steal a single flower from the Castle gardens, yet you pluck the most beautiful and precious one for yourself
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blankvort · 1 month
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you've probably answered something like this but favourite songs from the stage show and i want details, GO‼️
pezberrywhoreee i cannot even begin to describe the dearth of times i have answered anything related to mean girls and the amount of times i have internally cried and screamed wanting to interrupt a conversation to talk about mean girls. i say that god is dead but you are doing his work right here. putting this under a read more because you said details and this became a study of why every song in the stage show is better than opioids and thin mints combined <333 no articulacy here just 8000+ words of vibes and ranting
first of all if cady sings a single line i am violently shoving every note of the song into a mental folder called faves in such eldritch fonts that my brain computer is halfway to summoning cthulhu whenever it loads the soundtrack. she is described as the heart of the story on the backstage casting call page for a reason and that reason is her absolutely incredible range as she struts from the plucky guitar gyrations and membranophone-focused percussion of it roars into the candid, confiding, crescendoing (and other c words you can probably guess based on the verbiage i use in dms) keys of stupid with love and then climb the vocal volcano that is apex predator and akfjskhfidbdihgshejfhiajw i love her and i love her songs and i need to shut up now i’m sorry
second (but not really because i’m still going on and on about cady i’m sorry) i’m upset abt most other productions burying cady’s fourth-wall breaks and kind of making the segue into revenge party less. i don’t know riled up?? because 1) where did my girl janis’s influence go it is so much more impactful when cady’s main reason for going along with the revenge plot and pushing it further is hearing about janis being outed from janis herself! when her main motivator becomes aaron, who she likes super superficially by the time more is better rolls around, you think wow! what a bitch! for even longer! like you don’t even have to cut the “your hair looks sexy pushed back”/”are his eyes gray or green” conversation that prods her into sending gretchen over the edge this isn’t a time issue 2) where did cady’s brain go bring me a whole box of profound regret and impulsive decisions let the people in the back hear the hows and whys of her descent into plastichood and moreover i would like her to sing more and most of all i love it when characters break the fourth wall. by that i mean i want the “sounds kind of bad right to spy on someone but they’re the first friends i’ve had and i don’t want to have none” things back because the narrative nudity and the way it follows the melody of the verses in fearless is a+++
now. my legitimate favorite songs from the stage show in chronological order
a cautionary tale: the repartee the art freaks have is elite and so are their riffs. The lyrics are 3am notes app poetry lines and that’s an amazing thing for mean girls. It’s not the typical broadway opening number but it’s rough and brash and brilliant. To me the cast of mean girls strikes the perfect balance between caricature and lived-in character and the insouciance of this song towards seriousness reflects that wonderfully. Janis assuming the worst of everyone by saying that the temptation to be popular and hot is far too great and saying that you can’t buy integrity at the mall is some nice, if blatant, foreshadowing regarding cady losing her integrity as she gets caught up in the perilous biome of shopping centers with such dangerous patrons as build-dat-bear. The last line of the chorus abruptly changing the amount of beats in the measure adds an extra kick layout fosse quality that i love too. The ending is the apotheosis of mezzo-soprano/tenor harmonization. Need both janis and damian to step on me but for different reasons. No i will not elaborate
it roars: i have a soft spot for wild life but it roars is superior in every way to me because it introduces cady, the show’s sense of humor, the cast’s incredible skill when it comes to singing and dancing (seriously i had never seen an ensemble that made me want to be ensemble before mean girls), and the perfect transition from a cautionary tale will always get me hyped. i have many thoughts about the many changes the mg script and score have gone through throughout the years but oh my god my jaw dropped at the breathtaking belting of “i have danced with the maasai, i have climbed kilimanjaro” when i first heard it mashed up with it roars and the callback the verse gets in fearless 2.0(?) totally dislocated it. Also i know that it’s a pairing so unpopular it’s basically nonexistent but hear me out when i say that it roars is just a more optimistic, afrobeat inspired version of what’s wrong with me. Cady never seems to think that it’s the student body that needs to change, she thinks she needs to fight and win to belong just as gretchen thinks she needs to serve the most powerful person in school to be deserving of… idk anything?? Of course you cannot trust me on this because i will ship cady with anyone if you give me the chance. Writing cady/the marymount girl fanfic as we speak
it roars is the first indicator that musical cady is pretty different from movie cady in that she earnestly wants to go to the us, wants to have more/better friends, wants to try high school and skateboards and rapping and starbucks venti chai. which makes sense because you know you gotta have that sick i want song so characters feel less tossed about and more thrusting into. there’s a better way to word that but i don’t have the skull size to summon a less immature dictionary right now. a curious thing about it roars, though, is that kenya, being a country and all, has high school and skateboards and rapping. no starbucks because apparently rwanda was an easier location to settle into but that’s a good thing actually nobody should support starbucks. either way you can really see that cady’s been sheltered from the realities of any society past the stone age and idolizes this incredibly abstract view of friends and people. she’s equal parts desperate and determined, artless and acute. it’s ironic, i feel that at first her speech patterns (lions and birds and stuff) seem at odds with her sub-saharan surroundings as though she’s already trying to integrate herself with this slangy teenage culture she knows nothing about and then when she finally finds herself in slangy teenage culture she compares everything to the survival-based rules of the savannah. i know this is probably for streamlining purposes but it’s also so interesting to me that her immediate reaction to her parents’ funding being cut is wow adventure wow possibilities. she knows that everybody wants connection but she doesn’t yet know why connection has to be culled by all these arbitrary rules like fashion or acting cool. like i don’t remember where i read this but some novel said that the only thing worse than being smart is being smart and sensitive because then neither the logical nor emotional explanations for any event can make sense. i swear i will find that book someday to take a photo but today i am bedridden because i walked the five or so inches from home to the grocery store
back to it roars. i hate the grammar in the line “none of my closest friends even has hands” but i love everything else about the song. the beat is so bouncy and the ostinati of the wind and brass sections are top tier. the comedic beats are underscored by cutting the music and then the vocals come back in soaring alongside the strongest bass since george perry and i could die happy if hospitals changed the flatline noise to any cady singing “so exhilarating”.
two paragraphs and we’re still going strong dead god help me. personally i feel like the best delivery of the ensemble lines have to be as obnoxious and deafening as humanly possible but i get people who feel differently. it’s just really great to me when cady is polite and confused and very presumptuous and sonja aquino’s actively going through act two of the exorcist in real time. i think that’s why danielle wade is my cady of choice too. love it when autism: the song is put through the epiglottic funnel of anxiety. also i’m wiping tears right now about the fact cady refers to phones as little screens in her first act one song and in the act two opener she’s glued to her phone because she wants attention so badly and still doesn’t feel like she has enough even though she talks about how america and the plastics are so much more than what she’s used to. Also very interesting that cady views inclusion as a game that needs to be won (and eventually comes to view baleful adoration as winning) even though she later exhibits a sort of survival of the fittest mentality that shows up as early as her mention of baboons attacking those that go near their pack. Fun fact i think her takeover of the plastics mirrors dispersal in male baboons wherein mature male baboons leave the pack they were born into to find another troop to temporarily stay in and usually if they end up replacing the alpha male of that non-natal troop they commit infanticide because then he can reproduce with the alpha male’s old mate/s. That’s not super fun but it is a fact to me. but i’ll talk about the strange views musical cady heron seems to hold about winning more in my do this thing essay which i am definitely going to write despite my best efforts to make this post under five thousand words
gonna slide the it roars reprise in here too because it’s not on the soundtrack but it still makes me feel things. “i’m sixteen just like everyone here but not like everyone here” and what if i said mean girls is the best dissection of the torturous dichotomy between being desperate to belong and being desperate to be unique. There’s a thing called theatrical exaggeration but for mental health purposes i choose to believe that north shore class of x immediately clocked cady as a weirdo utterly undeserving of trust or respect when they saw her wear socks and sandals. I know i just complained about people calling every iteration of cady boring but i feel like i haven’t seen actual hate for musical cady (at least not as much slander as i’ve seen sent to og movie and especially movie musical cady) because you can better bear witness to her most vulnerable moments when she’s singing directly at you instead of saying things in a soundproof recording studio. She’s not quitting she’s regrouping! Which is a fascinating choice of words to me because regrouping in math is basically carrying over values because they’re too much. She gets sucked into this idea that more is better even though she has to compartmentalize the information she’s learned from hostile classmates and teachers and draw connections to her experience with animals because more is not better without proper management. Also this bitch is gonna get e coli if the janitors don’t care enough to clean the slut-shaming graffiti on the wall they are not wiping down those cubicle doors
where do you belong: i love gay people. “so what if all the ducklings think you’re ugly it’s because they’ve never seen a swan” is ted talk worthy material. never getting over the fact that damian knew this girl for all of maybe one introductory french class’s worth of interaction, accused her of doing drugs, and then built her confidence back up from the seventh circle of hell. the “your mother called you baby girl?” “singing!” exchange is peak best friend banter and showcases the art freaks’ dynamic of frank, funny jerk with a tarnished heart of gold and budding broadway babe with a shocking amount of wisdom obscured by hilarity and hypocrisy. the debate team rejected damian because he was too fabulous to be deigned to one oregon-oxford role i’ve decided. i love unreliable narrators and damian shooing cady away from the mathletes as soon as she shows the barest interest in them is an entertaining way of showing that nobody in this story is free from social norms. the lunch tray percussion is something all marching bands should adopt and so are the lighting cues. janis’s reactions to damian killing his dance breaks are the best. rachel hamilton is my fave ensemble student i don’t care if she gets maybe two or three lines total.  she was giving bombastic side eyes before anyone knew the word bombastic. i desperately need to know if she knew what cady was actually saying or if she thought cady was just a lion king stan asking to be canceled. damian painting everyone but his two-person clique as problematic is also peak teenage behavior. everything at that age is just finding the lesser of two evils and figuring out whether or not you want to meet the bigger evil anyways. janis deriding “the geeks and the freaks” despite being labeled as an art freak by every mg promo is also amusing and barrett and mary-kate’s deliveries of “christian believers” could send me to heaven any day they want. the ending is so satisfying to listen to and even more satisfying to watch. also i do mean it when i say that cady was adopted by the local gays in this number. are janis and damian aware that having their own table in a school that makes juniors and seniors have lunch at the same time makes them more powerful than all the politicians of the globe combined
stupid with love: ALSKAJLDJASLDAJLLKJ. stupid with love is the best musical representation of how a crush driven by hormones and being treated with the barest sense of humor and dignity can devour a person taylor swift eat your heart out. the music really sweeps you up into this story like you’re a close friend privy to even her most embarrassing thoughts and the way her love life flashing before her eyes just shuts out whatever aaron was going to say about lebron james is the funniest thing because yeah! you can be convinced you’re totally in love with someone when you’re that age while ignoring everything that makes them a well-rounded human being! the way cady’s clearly grown up in a caring household that’s so chock full of trust that her parents can’t fathom that she’d do anything remotely dangerous while having the whole house to herself for more than one hour BUT also feels like she doesn’t “get” love is super interesting to me to like most sixteen-year-olds have the idea that their parents don’t understand them sure but has she come to the conclusion that familial love isn’t enough? that she doesn’t get enough familial love anyways? that love is unknowable? does she wholeheartedly believe that she fell in love at age five? stupid with love is a song of so many possibilities and it’s as giddy and delusional as you’d expect, every emotion heightened by cady’s new brand of eloquence. fetch may never happen but calculust absolutely should. the little snippets of dialogue in between are so endearing on both cady and aaron’s ends to the point where i can forgive ms norbury clearly not knowing how to conduct a class. who’s gonna tell cady to raise her hand before she answers. i’m kidding she can do whatever she wants, even ignore the existence of multiplication. multiplication is a bitch cady i get it
we once again see that cady is determined almost to the point of self-destruction and that she’s desperate to live a ‘normal’ life by getting together with the normalest boy of all time and the song so perfectly sets up why we should care about cady and aaron as a couple–he’s the only person thus far to not even suggest what she should think/do, encouraging her in a teasing way to be herself (ie smart) instead of telling her to be dumber so he can feel better about himself. cadaaron is the only straight ship ever argue with the wall. also the instrumental on its own is literally such a bop?? i’d drop a grand piano on myself daily if the keys could just perpetually play the song. quoth my own blog my heart belongs to every video out there of a cady opting up on the last “i learned math so i can learn love” it just fits so well thematically and makes the song even more satisfying because it makes you think yes!! summon that girlfailure swag and learn love. also this song is so next to me from twihard: a new musical coded with the pencils and/or feet providing the musical pulse. this is me very subtly begging you to listen to twihard: a new musical as put on by the esoteric ensemble productions and uploaded like a full decade ago starring danielle wade 
apex predator: i love women. i love bon jovi. i love zoology. this song was made for me tina fey told me herself. i can even forgive whoever made halls rhyme with dolls because of the regina furry confirmation. the first few chords kind of give me jaws theme vibes. it’s grinding and warning and doused in grit. you get the brightness of cady’s other songs cut with the flinty, darker strings of janis’s numbers. the heavy drum sort of sounds like a heartbeat, quickening as cady realizes the might of the pride and considers how regina’s help compares to janis’s in an almost clinical manner. shout out to erika henningsen’s “exotic pet” obviously. that line should be studied by every ivy league with a literary program because regina and cady considering the other an exotic pet instead of a real friend but still seeking each other’s approval……. maybe the narrative foils are really reflections of my tin foil hat but hear me out. it’s so interesting that they refer to regina as an apex predator because apex predators are animals without natural enemies but almost every single friend or admirer of regina’s exhibits an envious kind of awe when it comes to regina. regina’s so magnetic that you can’t be her enemy but close enough to pseudo-celebrity that you can’t exactly be her friend either. also the harmony at the end combined with the epic percussion deserves its own award. no longer does egot mean anything. One must be an egota (emmy grammy oscar tony apex predator singer) to be considered showbiz royalty
stupid with love (reprise): cady is so so smart and so so stupid. aaron getting confused at a genuine compliment not solely based on his looks is adorable but i also love it when the line delivery gets changed to be more like “wow i already know i’m cool but it’s nice to hear it from the cute possibly murderous girl who sits behind me”. same goes for cady’s “shit” right after aaron swears off dating–it’s funny as hell whether she’s smiling through the pain or so disappointed in herself she looks like she’s experiencing medical shock. her making love into a function is similarly messed up but funny as hell. i literally have a google drive folder full of audio clips of the “i just don’t get it–i’ll never get it–i just don’t get it–somehow…” part it’s so serious
sexy: this is modern feminism talking i expect to run the world in shoes i cannot walk in - the greatest mind of our generation karen smith. if the national emergency alarm was changed to the ending riff i would become an arsonist just to hear it over and over again. a youtube commenter said that she sings every line like she’s waiting to be shown the script and redo it and whenever acting and singing can waltz along in magnificence together i sob in joy even if that waltz is set to trashy pop. literally every costume shown is worthy of fashion week and then some. the sex doctor bit is beyond saturday night live. sexy rosa parks deserves the world. modern feminism is a mess but at least it built the last verse of this incredible song.
someone gets hurt: regina pretending to cry and aaron being confused again and then being manipulated into a makeout session is so so funny. so terrible but so funny. the incredible blare of noise after that first “until someone gets hurt” feels like being pushed off a cliff and into a sea of warning sirens which feels fitting. if any song from the stage show were to be played by a chamber orchestra i would want it to be someone gets hurt because everything about it is almost four seasons by vivaldi to me. as i said do not expect sensible comparisons from this review. it’s really dark and intense like all of regina’s numbers but this time her style of seduction is on full display, highlighted by some heavy timpani work and a male ensemble that’s carrying more than just regina on their backs holy cow. squidward would worship regina with how she made the bass clarinet sultry despite hitting something in the high fs during each “hurt” and holding that “go” for like five seconds. the ending is giving celine dion’s villain arc. it’s also maybe the first time the audience sees aaron through the eyes of anyone other than cady who’s so starstruck she might as well be blind and we see a guy who’s still susceptible to regina’s yknow reginaness. she guilt trips him about his potential infatuation with his body and then gets extremely touchy with him while wearing a playboy bunny costume. she asks if she was a game he wanted to play despite (maybe devoid of remorse) playing him just to get back at cady. she’s making so much shit up because peeling away too many layers of her perfection would be dangerous but so would losing aaron to cady’s actual openness. first she says “fine” to mean that she’ll be fine without aaron in the reverse psychology sense, then they say “fine” to mean that they’re both hot af, then he says “fine” to agree to get back with regina and possibly to convince himself that his interest in cady can and should be pushed aside because being with regina is better for them both. love this song. hate being unable to sing a single note of it.
revenge party: my overall fave song of the obc album, the stage show, and the movie musical. words alone cannot describe the excitement that electrocutes my nerves when i hear “now you know, caddy—” because everything from that line onwards is going to be stuck in my head for at least a week. some people can’t function until their first cup of coffee in the morning, i can’t function until my first listen of revenge party. in slight relation to that gretchen’s squawking will make me spit out any drink; such has been scientifically proven over the course of several years. i actually have a line-by-line analysis of revenge party drafted so i won’t go into detail right now because i need viewer retention but i mean it when i say art freak harmonization is the best kind.
whose house is this: if kevin g has one fan it is me. let the man rap even if half his lyrics don’t make sense. i have heard the big fun from heathers comparisons. i have heard the halloween from be more chill comparisons. all of them are so incorrect i could set several houses ablaze with the rage i feel at the very suggestion that whose house is this isn’t a masterpiece. no joke this is the first song on my workout playlist. the way nobody even cares about cady in this number is hilarious and so is kevin refusing to swear. gretchen deserves all the thank yous and so does the horns section. karen’s actions are just. Absurd as they always should be. the mario kart ass instrumentals during that “turn the freaking music up” segment make me pleasantly stressed. there are traces of jungle techno but little to no traces of cady’s signature sound and the usually lax but articulate and expressive rhyme scheme of her songs switching to frenzied verses full of immaturity and inconsideration makes me feel things that should not be felt while listening to a rave number with flatulent bass.
more is better: the only romantic duet to ever exist if you ask me. the fact that cady switches from the more sincerity-charged love to like most likely because the plastics’ philosophy is to be cool about things makes me want to bite the bars of alcatraz prisons. the way cady’s signature sound only really returns after aaron chooses to leave her because she’s become regina 2.0 without even acknowledging it is the stuff of emotionally resonant legend. as i said in my aaron review post the only thing that bothers me about this number is aaron kissing cady while she’s clearly drunk and he isn’t but cady kind of gets him back after do this thing so. yay equality. aaron’s so tired of being manipulated and told to shut up i feel so bad for him. cady’s so in denial about missing her old home in any capacity and being uncomfortable with the skin she’s tried to grow into for aaron’s sake and i feel so bad for her. the shimmering sound that comes with cady singing “stars” makes me feel better though. 11/10 would be sad again. say no to excessive air conditioning and light pollution
someone gets hurt (reprise): i like it when gays have bad breakups without even dating. what more do you want. but actually i am obsessed with the way this is blocked out because the way the chaos of cady’s house gradates into the dark street where there’s nothing but her and her crumbling friendships. the link between janis and regina is really reinforced by this song and it makes me feel insane.
world burn: the only way regina can redeem herself for wearing a black turtleneck and black pants is by slaying so hard you forget she’s just printing shit and polluting the corridors and she does it in world burn. her having a recurring set of notes to follow until she absolutely loses it is iconic. i learned so much about hernia formation through this song so i think it’s also an educational heritage site. the contrast of her 1984-esque lyrics and beats with lines like “trang pak is a grotsky byotch” is beyond hilarious but in the context of the show it makes my timbers shiver. she is both manipulated and the master manipulator. renee rapp’s opt up for the ending is golden but every regina brings their own flair and intensity to it. something that really interests me is how different actresses interpret the lines “this is what i get for helping / helping someone lame fit in” because to generalize regina either thinks she was actually helping cady or is trying to convince herself/the audience that her primary motivator was controlling cady’s every action before she got too hot to ignore or because she saw her hanging around janis and damian or because regina can’t ask a girl out like a normal person. idk it’s very fun and very satisfying to listen to and ramps up the ante for all antagonistic songs ever!
i’d rather be me: did you mean the feminist anthem of the twenty-first century? i’d rather be me is pure janis in her sort of jumpy, edgy, eleven o’clock exasperated glory tuned to this effusive fusion of pop and rock. the energy this has is soooo good because every girl in school is tired of being treated like shit because of the expectations placed on them by society and the idea that by i’d rather be me the female student body of north shore is so exhausted of the plastics’ bs that they parade janis around despite shunning her for years is amazing. most criticisms of this are abt how wordy it is or how it’s not worded right but hello janis is a teenager her inner and outer monologue is not going to be as mature as fucking grizabella the glamor cat and it can include words that anyone would study for the sats like sycophant. sycophant is not that fancy a word i learned the word sycophant from a star wars fanfiction i read when i was seven how could you not know the word sycophant at age seven squared after making a living out of reviewing shows written by wordsmiths like sondheim. sorry that was mean i’m just tired of people either going “they wouldn’t talk like that they’re teenagers” or “they shouldn’t talk like that they’re part of a theatrical production worth millions of dollars!” lmao
ok so i think that janis was losing herself just as much as cady over the course of the revenge plot taking place because okay she’s ruined regina but she’s barely changed anything about herself and if her plan had worked without hitches wtf was she going to do. was she going to keep hanging out with cady. was she going to fill the power vacuum left by the plastics herself. was she going to run regina over with a bus herself. i’d rather be me is the culmination of the crushing pillars of her revenge plot and the full realization that revenge wasn’t what she wanted–she wanted to change the way the world works, change it into a place where people can just do and be without being ostracized. to me the instrumentals and the mockery in the lyrics are almost stinging?? someone with even could describe this better than me but the strings during the instrumental section between verses remind me of a mosquito bite because they’re high and sharp and put against the heavy drums and cymbal crashes they really paint this picture of a dam of anger breaking and giving way to a new wash of awareness. 
also i cannot stand it when ppl say this song is the show giving endorsement to janis being a hypocrite there is a reason why all the lyrics are in future tense. she is wrapping her mind around the notion that there is no pleasing everyone, that there is no true gratification gained by holding grudges and letting them control your every thought, that if you don’t let yourself have the liberty of lashing out you’re only going to manifest your maliciousness in worse ways with longer-lasting effects. that being said let girls be haters
also the obc album should’ve let janis swear. every public performance of i’d rather be me should let janis swear. let her have a line with bite before her throat turns into a cavern where vowels go to melt into a singular solution
also janis’s costumes over the course of the whole show are amazing but her look in i’d rather be me goes so hard. if i had any of janis’s jackets i think i’d curl into it like a cocoon and wait until the heat death of the universe for metamorphosis into coolness
do this thing: no joke this is the second song on my workout playlist. i hate the title so much but i love also the audience reaction when ms norbury starts singing as if she didn’t just slay the what’s wrong with me reprise gets me every time. truly the actresses in the adult women track are so underappreciated and so are the adult women in general. kevin g’s unabashed doing of the thing regardless of the haters is iconic. the return of the heavy percussion is so enjoyable and so are the mathletes’ lines lining up with the steaming kettle sound somehow behind each buzzer even though i hate buzzers because in real life mathletes nobody wants to answer on beat. ms norbury best matchmaker ever i LOVED the detail of aaron being present for the mathletes’ win but cady clearly focusing on the competition above all else. i’m pretty sure the mathletes are also the only characters to drop an f-bomb in a song which is just fantastic + the gretchen/regina parallel between kevin and marwan regarding schquillz is phenomenal. “the limit does not exist” being both the answer to the question that signifies cady’s return to her old self with more self-assurance and the theme of the musical in terms of not limiting other people is a level of genius i will never reach.
i see stars: i’m sorry they gave cady a big finale where she calls everyone beautiful and bright and holds hands with the other girls she’s hurt and you expect me to not love it?? this one had to grow on me though because i was so bothered about the stars imagery coming up maybe like five songs before when we’d been following animals and math for the whole show. as we all know characters can only have one or two interests before they become completely incoherent. but now i know more about light pollution and have played the video of this song with the pride chorus more times than i’ve blinked so i get it. shane oman also breaking his crown during the escalation of the instrumentals from a very optimistic but singular combo of strings and cymbals into the violins and heavier drums and whatever else is such a good detail. i still get goosebumps with that “you stars” there is just so much emotion packed into this finale and the rest of the ensemble joining in is as effective as onions being cut directly into my eyes when it comes to crying. obviously my fave version of this is the one with cady and janis’s mini duet during the rhinestones don’t shine part but guaranteed this one will make me cry no matter what
now. for the songs that didn’t make it onto my absolute fave list they are still my children just bastard ones and i will go into detail about them too because there is no point in writing this post if it does not crash the tumblr dashboard for you
a cautionary tale (reprise): akin to its origins, the reprise of a cautionary tale kicking off act two is there to introduce the act, but unlike its first iteration, the reprise is literally just there. no jokes no nothing. would love to see it reworked into something that reminds the audience they’re north shore freshmen being told this story by janis and damian because i forget about that framing device until the dialogue break in i see stars every time lmao but other than that it’s serviceable and any song that involves art freak harmonization is a solid song
meet the plastics: maybe i don’t love women as much as i claim to. I don’t know why i don’t like this song more truly. Maybe i just need to listen to it more lmao because the lyrics are great, the tempo changing with each introduction is great, and gretch waiting until regina’s out of earshot to try and convert cady into a fetch truther is great. Maybe it’s the “humps my leg like a chihuahua” line that turned me off from it because nell benjamin i do not care that you wrote legally blonde i do not think regina george would bring up animal humping imagery considering what her mother puts her through unless she was hopped up on pain meds. All that being said i would die for the polyphony at the end and karen playing with cady’s hair near the end is so cute
what’s wrong with me: gretchen it’s not you it’s me and i like songs with a specific sort of climax and what’s wrong with me really does feel like a music box piece played by some dusty not-quite-antique you find in the attic that makes you feel a particular, peculiar strain of melancholy because it’s so cyclical and fragile. which is the point, probably! It just sounds really different from the rest of the show and i feel like the lyrics don’t quite fit the language we’ve heard gretch using so far but maybe that’s also part of the point. That being said the line “see that you see what’s wrong with me” makes me go mad because there are so many ways to interpret it. Is she telling the audience that they should be able to see what’s wrong with her? Is she saying that the audience sees something good in regina that she can’t see anymore because of her constant mistreatment? Is she once again asking what’s wrong with her or has she finally had a breakthrough about her dismal self-esteem?
fearless: oh my god a cady song and act ender that i’m not totally into sound the sirens. but really fearless without the revisitation of the it roars/wild life passage that tells the audience what makes her fearless aside from wanting to move to america (which might make her more fearless than i thought now i sound that out but still) isn’t my favorite songs despite it having some of my favorite moments like karen’s ribbon dance, gretchen’s very cool dance, cady mirroring regina’s pose on top of the cafeteria table at the start of meet the plastics at the end, the mini someone gets hurt reprise at the end, it isn’t my favorite to listen to because the lyrics are just all over the place. Cady why are you saying that she’ll go cry to mama do you think mrs george is sober enough for that. Cady why are you spouting live love laugh merchandise ass quotes. Cady why are you quoting dwayne the rock johnson “imagine stronger, better, bolder” are you going to play a lacrosse game against regina. Why does karen not wear more vests after this number
You know what made me care about fearless?? The fearless reprise. Oh my god the fearless reprise. I need to make a separate post about the fearless reprise but i can’t listen to it more than once a day or i’ll end up crying for hours on end.  
stop: is it homophobic of me to put three damian songs on this list? probably but i make up for it by filling that broadway cares bucket every time i can. and it’s not that i even really dislike stop!! I have so many thoughts about stop!! i just don’t like it when compared to the other songs that can hold up inside and outside the context of the show!! i just feel like it has to be experienced live to understand its award-losing enormity unlike where do you belong and even then it sounds noticeably different from the rest of the show + essentially pauses the narrative to talk about a whole other story that never gets resolved outside of damian being ghosted (i thought theater was supposed to provide escapism 😔) and then frays a bunch of threads out from the ensemble in a way that doesn’t feel quite as well sewn in as the worship we see during apex predator or after rockin’ around the pole because like. it’s funny sure but just the act before we saw that things can be funny while also moving the story along past attempting to hammer in the message “stop ignoring your real friends” in cady’s thickened-by-makeup head. 
also how does damian even know about her word vomit. cady barely even word vomits in the stage show. it’s all just word coughing fits of confusion and unintentional comedy under peer pressure. whenever she says something embarrassing she either gets cut off or turns it into a whole song. i’m sorry damian i love you and your stupid straw hat but we just saw the whole show we don’t need a recap of everything that happened in the last hour with almost zero internal rhymes and without the frantic pacing of ya got trouble from the music man. cmon.
onto things i love about stop tho which are a) the gaiety (and gay-ty) b) the dancing and c) the staging. i love it when gay characters just get to be silly goofy instead of singing themselves to their graves and even if damian was built off the dramatic thespian homostereotype he gives me the impression of a silly goofy teen trying to balance the interests of his best friends with his sanity through the medium he’s most comfortable in which happens to be literally show-stopping song-and-dance number. also we get cadnis content in the background and the choreo i’ve seen for how janis plays keep away with cady’s phone only gets better (which of course is a synonym for gayer. let the babies hold hands before they yell at each other in the street and see a 15-second death they’re both sort of kind of responsible for). the dancing of course is wonderful. i mean does it make sense in-story for damian to somehow be popular enough with the ladies to rally them into a giant dance break after asking them to divulge their biggest, darkest secrets like an hour after being kicked out of the girls’ bathroom and calling one of them danny devito? probably not. is it really enjoyable when you aren’t itching to get back to the main story? yes. it also makes north shore feel more authentic in a sense?? obviously there’s so much about the social hierarchy exaggerated for comedic effect but yeah public high school is that crazy one day you’ll hear that a classmate got into a drunk driving accident and the next you’ll hear that the same classmate scored an audition for the x factor. and the transition from the art classroom, which is one of my fave sets in the whole show because aghhhh i want to pause everything and analyze art whenever it comes up in a tv show or movie or video game or musical because it’s almost never just art present for the sake of filling the set! there’s a reason why the set designers put that there or downloaded that asset or whatever! based on the official yt video in stop we see a sort of cubist portrait of janis ian, a few monochrome figure studies, and some more abstract pieces and i so want to know what this number would’ve looked like in-universe. did cady legit just run out of class to confront damian and get swept into a gay tea spilling session until the end of the day. be glad you got suspended girl
so. while i cannot begin to fathom the stamina it takes for damian to go from that gorgeous dance break into the grand vocal ending—philip doesnt know what he’s missing out on for sure—stop is not something i play on purpose but if the obc album shuffles to it i won’t complain!
what’s wrong with me (reprise): is it homophobic of me to put every gretchen song sans whose house is this on this list? probably but again it’s just not something i can put on repeat/a number i think depends on the production to arouse much entertainment value. it’s fucking hilarious though i’ll give it that. like it might be in the top three of mg songs when it comes to unadulterated comedy. my heart breaks when gretchen realises she’s stuck in this cycle of servitude and is still being hurt by the people she most desires the approval of and her work is still going unappreciated and then i get a heart attack from laughing because regina’s reign of terror is so absolute even her own mother has feared her from the age of three onwards?? in addition to that what’s wrong with me reprise is why i cannot stand for mrs george hate she’s just a girl too. a toxic girl who never emotionally developed past high school but like. what do you want her to do. she has never had a heartfelt conversation with her daughter ever. also “why couldn’t it just be drugs” is so funny to me because yknow. reggie gets hit by a bus and spends the rest of the show so high she forgets her love languages are acts of slanderous service, passive-aggressive gifts, weaponized physical touch, quality time spent playing hard to get, and words of refutation. taylor louderman deserved a tony for pulling the kalteen bar scream off every night too i think it’s night queen aria levels of difficulty.
the funniest part of this song to me is probably the way it starts and ends so abruptly. usually you can tell when a song’s about to start in a musical but gretchen nearly breaking down into sobs as soon as cady turns her non-self-tanned back without missing a beat is both relatable and hysterical. my girl is clinging to les mis motifs and middle school herd mentality in a world meant for fosse tributes. the spotlight is only on her when she talks about how dim her light feels in comparison to other characters. then mrs george joins in and you get the first female/female duet to rival defying gravity since idk. everything in fun home. i take cash and credit not criticism.
but really the gretchen/mrs george connection is so interesting because they tether themselves to regina in a style that’s irreconcilable with happiness on either end and they know that but possibly for a mix of selfish and sympathetic reasons don’t want to leave in any capacity. the way they’re separated on stage by little more than a change in colored lighting is interesting too and raises the question of whether or not they’re aware that regina’s sun is burning those closest to her in general.
also. can plastic cady snap and yell at me i want to feel something
in conclusion i love you pezberrywhoreee thank you for asking this. i think i said the words “also” and “but” more times than i said the word “gay” and that’s a real hurdle to fly over. i think i expect many random things in your inbox hereafter as retribution/reward depending on how you see it
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victoria-daydreams · 2 years
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The Hare and The Tower
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Chapter Five: The King’s Hand
AN: I’m not dead! Sorry for the really long wait, I work every day and it has been so hard trying to work on this chapter. I apologize in advance if the wedding ceremony customs are wrong, I researched it to make it as accurate as possible. I am barely awake as I post this, so sorry if there are mistakes. This chapter was so long I had to split it in two.
Trigger warnings: age gap
Word Count: 2.6k
Taglist: @riviaborns​ @dogmatic255​ @amethystwonders11 @snowymarvel1205​ @helloimlateforeverything @sweetwanderlust05 @newandykes
Summary: Wedding bells are ringing in King’s Landing once more.
Chapter Six: The Lady Hightower
113 AC, Westeros
The news spread like wildfire throughout the Red Keep. For some, it came as no surprise Lord Hightower asked for the hand of the eldest daughter of House Clarick. He had been courting her over the course of many months. King Viserys himself, amusedly remarked that it was about time when he personally congratulated them on the news.
A near five months of planning had gone into the wedding, and the day finally arrived. Today was the day most highborn girls looked forward, either with dread or with excitement. Jesmyn could count herself as one of the lucky ones. It was a blessing itself to marry for love, not duty, and she's more than grateful for it.
"Aren’t you nervous at all?” Celesse asked curiously. “I know I would be if I was devoting my life to one person,”
Jesmyn stared at her younger sister through the mirror, laughing quietly as she placed her hand on top of Celesse’s.
"I cannot think of a finer man to spend the rest of my days with,” she answered, smiling all the while. “It's nothing to be nervous over, more excited than anything," Jesmyn said, squeezing her hand. “Celesse, this is the most sure I’ve ever been in my life,” she assured.
Jesmyn’s grin was was so bright, her sister couldn't help but grin in joy. Reina, Jesmyn’s other younger sister, moved from her position behind Celesse and into Jesmyn’s line of vision, holding a rose to her nose.
“Your husband-to-be was most generous when he gave father gold in addition to his marriage proposal,” Reina said, lowering the flower from her face. “With the amount he gave us, it should stave off the dreaded process of finding a suitor,” she continued placing her hand on Jesmyn’s other shoulder. “Thank you sister, for asking him to do so,” she finished, smiling an honest and genuine smile.
“I would do anything for you two if it meant ensuring your personal happiness,” Jesmyn said, covering her hand over hers.
Reina looked at Jesmyn’s reflection in the mirror, “You look breathtaking sister,” she complimented.
Her sister was right, Jesmyn knew she was even more beautiful than ever today. The face paint applied to her made her eyes appear more doe-like and her lips red and plumper. She was a vision draped in a lavish gown made of ivory silk with golden embroideries clothed her. The sleeves were short, composed of Myrish lace which clung to her shoulders. The bodice to the dress was tight, pushing her breasts up and a gold belt cinched at her waist bringing attention to her full hips. The belt was shaped as a tall tower.
Adorning Jesmyn’s neck, ears, and wrist was a necklace made of gold and jades, with matching earrings and a matching bracelet. Her hair was styled in an elaborate updo, held by a golden hair pin with an ornamented hare. A knock on the door caused the three girls to look behind them simultaneously.
"Come in,” Jesmyn called, letting her younger sisters help her rise from the seat.
Lord Clarick peered in from the other side, her maiden cloak in hand.
"It is time, my sweet girl,” he said, entering into the room. “Go join your mother, Celesse and Reina,” he ordered softly.
“Yes father,” they answered in unison.
Celesse and Reina gave her one last hug, careful not to ruin her dress or hair. Reina pulled away from her, sending her an encouraging smile while Celesse took both of Jesmyn’s hands in hers.
“A magnificent life awaits you,” she stated softly, giving her a reassuring squeeze.
With that, she released Jesmyn’s hands and joined Reina near the door, interlocking their arms and leaving.
Lord Clarick smiled warmly, “Your mother and I are so proud of you Jesmyn,” he said, moving over to her. “You are to finally become a woman today!” he said happily, holding out his arms for a hug.
She wrapped her arms around him, “But you’ll always see me as your little girl,” Jesmyn quipped, resting her forehead against his chest.
“Always,” Lord Clarick echoed, kissing her on top of her head, his grip tightening.
After what felt like days, he let her go and shook out the maiden cloak. Gently, he draped it over her shoulders. The rich fabric was dark blue, made of heavy velvet with a brown hare embroidered on it. Lord Clarick's eyes gleamed as he looked over her covered in her House’s colors for the final time. Jesmyn didn't know whether or not her eyes were playing with her, but she thought could see tears welling in his eyes.
“Pride, dignity, and honor,” Lord Clarick said, fastening her cloak together by the golden hare clip with onyxes set in its eyes.
She smiled brightly, “Pride, dignity, and honor,” Jesmyn repeated, nodding her head.
He slid his palms down her arms, “I hope you have a happy marriage and blessed with many sons," he wished, kissing her cheek.
“Thank you father,”
Stepping back, he held out his arm for her to grab.
"It's time Jesmyn," he informed, and nervous excitement ran through her.
Graciously, Jesmyn accepted his arm, holding onto it tightly. Lord Clarick walked her out of the room and with every step, her grip became stronger. Her grip on his arm grew so hard, she thought she would bruise him, but when Lord Clarick placed a calming hand on hers and her nerves eased instantly. Standing outside the doors of the Great Sept, Jesmyn could hear the murmurs of the crowd waiting inside. Sensing her nervousness rising again, Lord Clarick leaned down to her ear.
“If anyone is to be nervous, it should Lord Hightower,” he whispered. “For he is about to marry the most beautiful woman in all of the Seven Kingdoms,"  he grinned.
The doors opened, all eyes turning to the back of the room. An awed hush fell over the large crowd as her and her father entered. Lord Clarick led Jesmyn through the Great Sept, his chest puffed out with pride. She had never seen her father stand as tall, or as proud than he did in this moment to give her to her husband-to-be. All eyes fell on them, and it took everything inside of Jesmyn not to curl into herself.
She was not used to being the center of attention, it might as well been the whole of Westeros watching her. There were so many smiling faces in the crowd, it was hard for Jesmyn to pinpoint who was genuinely happy for her and those who smiled only out of politeness. Jesmyn’s nervousness melted away when her eyes focused on her soon-to-be husband waiting for her on the dais. Otto stood just as tall and looked regal as ever, dressed in an emerald doublet bearing the Hightower embroidery; the sunlight streaming in from the large windows above him.
He awaited her with a squire holding the Hightower colors beside him. Jesmyn felt as though she was in a dream, at any given moment she was bound to wake up to reality. However, there was no need to pinch herself awake, Lord Otto Hightower was truly waiting for her at the end of the aisle, completely transfixed by her appearance. Soon, she was about to be cloaked in the protection of her husband's House
Lord Clarick and Jesmyn came to a stop in front of the Septon and next to Otto. Her father's hands moved quickly, unclasping the gold hare and shedding her of the Clarick cloak. A shiver coursed through Jesmyn’s body at the sudden lack of warmth. Lord Clarick placed a kiss on her cheek and squeezed her hand before retreating from her side. While Otto, accepted the carefully folded bride's cloak from the squire.
"You may cloak the bride," the Septon said, towards Otto. "And bring her under your protection,” he continued, his voice thundering through the sept.
With a grand flourish, Otto enveloped Jesmyn in emerald green, leaning close to fasten the bridal cloak at her throat. Jesmyn could feel the piercing stares of many on her, expecting her to be the perfect Lady Hightower, like his late wife was. Their eyes locked, their gaze holding a thousand words, but the only thing communicated between was a smile meant only for each other.
"My lords, my ladies, we stand here in the sight of the gods and men to witness the union of Otto of House House Hightower to Jesmyn of House Clarick,"
Jesmyn and Otto extended their hands out, allowing the septon to tie the golden ribbon around them. Otto’s hand was callous and warm on top of hers.
"I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one," he said, looking at the two of them. "Look upon each others, and say the words," he instructed.
Otto and Jesmyn shifted ever slightly to be able to stare into each others' eyes as they said their vows together.
"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger," Jesmyn said gently, still smiling but she could sense her eyes watering. "I am his, and he is mine, from this day to the end of my days,"
“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger," Otto echoed in unison. "I am hers, and she is mine, from this day to the end of my days,"
"With this kiss I—" Jesmyn began, feeling herself getting choked up, but she swallowed and composed herself to continue. "With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lord and husband," she said happily.
Tears shone in her eyes, one eventually falling down, but Otto was quick to gently thumb it away.
"With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lady and wife," Otto declared.
He leaned forward and their lips touching for a lingering, chaste kiss. Otto’s lips were just as soft as the lines in his face.
The Septon raised his crystal high in the air, "Here in the sight of gods and men, I do solemnly proclaim Otto of House Hightower and Jesmyn of House Clarick to be man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever, and cursed be the one who comes between them,"
Applause echoed in the sept at the declaration from the septon, but Jesmyn remained focused on Otto. The two staring intently into each others eyes, in a world where only the two of them exist.
“Lord husband,” she whispered.
“Lady Hightower,” he whispered back, a wide grin on his lips
~~~x~~~
The feast that followed the wedding was grander than Jesmyn believed possible. More food than the guests could eat in a week was served aplenty, while delicious imported wines were poured into goblets. Jaunty tunes from bards performing floated into Jesmyn’s ears. The song was led by a young man with a lovely voice which lords and ladies danced to throughout the hall. Sitting at the head table beside her new husband, Jesmyn watched it all unfold. She smiled happily, it was infectious. All throughout the hall, cheerfulness brimming from every guest in attendance.
Her and Otto conversed gaily with lords and ladies who stood in the receiving line to offer their congratulations to the newlyweds.Of course, the first people to send their well wishes was none other than King Viserys, Alicent, and Rhaenyra.
“Ah, look at us,” King Viserys said, with a grand smile. “One big, happy family that grows larger and larger with every moon that passes,” he beamed.
“’Happy’ is not the word, I would use,”  Jesmyn thought.
“It’s an honor to have you apart of the family, Lady Hightower,” King Viserys stated warm-heartedly.
“King Viserys, you are too kind. I thank you for your words,” Jesmyn grinned, bowing her head.
“Congratulations father, stepmother,” Alicent spoke up in her usual soft tone, and it took everything in Jesmyn not to wince at the hidden venom behind ‘stepmother’. “I wish you two a long and happy marriage," she said, her lips stretching in a thin smile which, Jesmyn noted, did not reach her eyes.
“Thank you, My Queen,” Jesmyn responded, smiling sweetly to maintain appearances.
“You are the vision of beauty, Lady Hightower,” Rhaenyra complimented, with a smile.
It was insincere, they both knew it, not to mention the backhanded compliment tacked onto it.
“Thank you Princess,” Jesmyn responded, a charming smile still on her face. “We all shall be one, big happy family indeed as King Viserys said,” she said.
Jesmyn knew Rhaenyra well enough that she didn’t expect an immediate reconciliation, but still the hope was there. With Alicent, Jesmyn was starting to think there was more to her anger towards her. She understood Otto was a recent widower, much like King Viserys, but Otto was under no obligation to remarry, and he did so regardless. To Jesmyn, no less, and she chose to accept his proposal. Quite unlike Alicent.
“Is it envy?” Jesmyn wondered.
An hour passed, and there were no well wishers to attend to, once again Otto and Jesmyn absorbed with each other. Always touching the other in some way: holding hands, her hand on his arm, his hand on her shoulder. Often, he would lean over and whisper into her ear, his lips grazing against the delicate skin there. A smile never failed to cross her lip each time.
Jesmyn’s uncle, Marcyl, was the second to dance with her, Otto of course being the first, telling her of how he never thought the day would come.
“You were incessantly picky when it came to suitors,” he joked.
Almost immediately, after the song ended her cousin Blane, swept her away for the next dance. The two of them reminiscing about their childhood home at Leavens Keep in the Riverlands. Her last dance came from her father still enthused about the match she secured. Finally, Jesmyn was able to return to her table to catch her breath. Four dances were enough for the night, if her feet were anything to go by.
Tiredly, she took her seat next to Otto who sent her a knowing smile. Jesmyn grabbed her goblet and brought it to her lips, peeking over her it to see Celesse dancing with Blane. They both shared a laughed at something he said. Even as she remained in good spirits, Jesmyn knew the banquet was slowly winding down and she could not help but dread what came next.
The bedding ceremony was tradition, and it was supposedly all in good fun. Yet, it sat like cold lead in her belly. Jesmyn knew it was mostly men who looked forward to it more eagerly than any other of the wedding festivities. The lords would undress her, they'd roughly tug at her gown, and they'd see her naked and make crude and vulgar comments about her. Jesmyn was certain she would not be able to survive the humiliation of it all.
"Let's have a lordly bedding!" a drunken lord shouted.
The hall echoed with the sound of fists hitting the table in agreement. Jesmyn seized up. Truly, the gods had a cruel sense of humor. Her very own apprehension had summoned the one thing she feared. With the notion was planted in every lord’s head, there was no getting it out. Benches and chairs emptied with a general thunderous scrap; the men made their way for her. Jesmyn was frozen, shrinking back in her chair, her smile nowhere to be found.
Otto noticed her discomfort immediately and his large hand came down on top of hers, his thumb gently stroking her skin.
He stood up, "My lords," he called over the clamor. "I shall have to ask you to restrain yourselves for my bride," he demanded, a hush falling over the hall. “However,” he said, briefly pausing. “The hour grows late and indeed, this wedding needs a bedding,” he agreed, smirking and raising his goblet in the air.
A statement which was met with cheers and whistles from the men, while blood rush to Jesmyn’s cheeks. Smiling nervously, she hid her embarrassment through a forced laugh.
“Small mercies,” Jesmyn thought. “Small mercies,”
Chapter Seven: The Lady Hightower Part II
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bebethsas · 9 months
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*giglgles* here’s a rant I’ve had sitting in my drafts for a bit now. I think now is the perfect time to post it. Enjoy Beth’s impassioned ramblings from ~1 month ago (and sorry in advance, I know that this is LONG):
“Chrissy…this is for you.”
 Holyjesusmotherof—
I am on the floor. I am dead. I am lying on my stomach, staring off into the middle distance with a look that can only be described as stunned disbelief, or just straight-up stunned. They would have been a f*cking powderkeg, wouldn’t they?
Dear mother of god, the way he says that, so softly, so reverently, I…
If they’d been given just a smidge more time, they (yes, they) would have loved each other so *fiercely*.
They would have been goddamn explosive. They would have (accidentally) rocked the school to its foundations and razed the HS to the ground (more like, they exist, and the high school tears itself apart because of their relationship’s existence). There is no doubt in my mind that if there was a sliver of a chance for one of them to bring the other back from the dead, they’d do it.
Like, the kind of love where you claw through brick and cinderblock with your bare hands to reach them, and you don’t notice until long afterwards that you’ve torn like…six of your nails, and your hands are bleeding. And sure, you have to keep your hands wrapped in bandages for the next couple of weeks while they heal, but who cares??? What does it matter?? They’re alive, you found them, they’re here. Like the minute one of them is in danger, the other person doesn’t hesitate, they just leap.
Like, yo Bangles, you wanna talk Eternal Flame? That’s an eternal flame. Like, a flame that keeps burning over centuries kind of “Eternal” flame; like the Olympic fire that they’re supposed to keep burning forever and ever (it doesn’t, but shhhhh), like a candle in a sea of darkness that against all odds never, ever goes out. That’s the kind of love I mean here.
Like, saying ‘I’ll find you in the next life,’ and then they do, kind of eternal flame.
Like, “death cannot stop true love, it can only delay it a little while,” kind of un-douseable flame. Not an uncontrollable wildfire, or even a small campfire. Just, this strong yet persevering little candle that provides comfort, joy, and light. Doesn’t hurt nobody, isn’t insatiably hungry or all-consuming, it just…is.
They are an example of true love, and no one can convince me otherwise. And I mean actual true love, like 2 puzzle pieces that naturally click together. It’s like they were made for each other, but it was an *accident*.
It’s not like a deity took a soul, split it in half, and then zotted these 2 halves down onto earth and went ‘here, now go find each other.’ It’s more like they created one soul, and then created another soul, and by sheer coincidence or serendipity or chance or whatever, these two line up perfectly, with no imperfections or jagged bits in the way.
They are Agatha and Oliver (I will elaborate on another post, christ this post got fuckin long).
Jesus christ how can I be so damn shook over one line, that it’s making me spiral and pull out analogies and references that are *deeply* buried in my brain??
I’m gonna end up writing a gottdamn thesis on (the way I view) their relationship, aren’t I?
…yes. Yes, I probably am.
  Anyway, that’s the tale of when I first saw the scene, and had to have a bit of a lie-down for a while, because thoughts were spiraling.
...ok, I wrote tags for this, then realized that I should probably put them in the body of the post too. So:
#no joke those 2 seconds of “Chrissy...this is for you” used to make me literally so weak, that I had to dramatically lean on furniture to stay upright. #the emotion #the goddamn EMOTION
#and Chrissy is such a sweetheart, #and Eddie was so kind and gentle with her...
#you know, you just KNOW, that she would have loved him with the fierceness of a lioness
#because when you’re sad, and scared, and lonely, and feel like none of your supposed ‘loved ones’ can or will listen--or even care (let alone ask) about how you’re doing
#and you are doing EVERYTHING you can just to continue on, #with seemingly ZERO support #to have someone come along and *help* you, #no questions asked, #no returned favors needed or asked for
#to have someone instantly *know* that you’re going through it, #respect your need for privacy, #and treat you so gently and reverently, #like you’re worthy of being loved???
(and again, not comment on the fact that you’re *clearly* going through it, because they respect that it’s probably not any of their business, and you probably don’t *want* to talk about it, and even though you *should* talk about it, they’re not going to push you)
#yeah. #even if they weren’t interested in you romantically, it’s too late #they have your heart now and forever
#genuinely kind people are not easy to find #don’t get me wrong they *exist*, #they’re not *rare*, #they’re just hella hard to FIND
#so once you DO find one?? #yeah you’re glomming onto that person like a barnacle and refusing to let go
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