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coryosbaby · 9 months

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Ultraviolence // E.L + C.M.

(Pt. 5)

Fandom: “Scream Vi”

Pairing: Stepbrother! Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, Chad Meeks Martin x fem! Reader, Ethan Landry x Chad Meeks Martin

Warning: stepcest (stepbrother x stepsister), some angst and shit parents // nsfw ! Threesome . Spit kink . Degradation & praise . Cum swallowing . Oral (m & f receiving) . Fingering (f receiving), choking, overstimulation — dom! Chad, dom! Ethan, sub! Reader

A/N: If this isn’t necessarily the pt 5 people were hoping for I deeply apologize. This is also more plot than porn. But I have a shit ton of ideas for part 6 that I’m rly excited to post 🤭🤭 Ty for reading 🙌🏻

Ethan’s cock is hot and heavy inside you as he fucks your needy cunt with an aching rage. Your nails are digging into his back, small whimpers slipping from your lips as his teeth bite down on your jugular. His hips cant into you at an incredible pace.

It’s been two days. Maybe three, you haven’t really been counting with how much Ethan has been shoving his cock into any hole on your body that exposes itself to him. He’s taking his anger directed towards his dad out onto you, while Chad watches.

Sure, Chad likes watching you get fucked; there’s no doubt about that. But the way Ethan has been touching you for this long is almost starting to concern him. But he knows he can get this way sometimes. Sometimes Ethan gets the need to blow off steam. After high school the once nerdy guy Chad used to be friends with is now a mean sex fiend.

Not that the other can talk, though. Because he’s been going along with it too, cock flush in his hand while he towers over your face and let’s it rub along the expanse of your kiss bitten lips, his abdomen clenched tight with the ache to release. His apartment is hot today, the summer heat reaching a high of ninety eight degrees. It’s a wonder none of you have passed out yet, even with the a/c running. Sweat drips down Ethan’s neck as he pounds you. Your eyes look up at the both of them, pupils dilated and streaming tears. Ethan’s thumbs move to the corners of your mouth and roughly pull them apart to expose the whites of your teeth.

“Good fucking girl. Yeah, open that mouth wide.” Hes demanding, and you can’t say no as you move your mouth open wider. He grins, his spit landing on your tongue and making your eyes roll back. “You fucking slut. This is all your good for, isn’t it? Being used as a little sex doll. That’s your place now, right? Can’t go anywhere, staying in this fucking bed being our fucking sex slave.”

You nod, fucked out and desperate; you’ve came more times than you can count since Ethan had decided to crash on Chad’s couch and you had showed up. Of course you took breaks, but… that wasn’t too far off from them just doing it so you wouldn’t faint or die from dehydration.

“You wanna taste my cum, bunny?” Chad’s voice growls out. He’s close, hands rubbing against his tip in just the right spot. Your tongue peeks out as you close your eyes and wait for his seed to hit you. And when it does, salty and bitter against your taste buds, Ethan lets out a loud animalistic groan and dumps his third load of the day into you. Your worn, body feeling incredibly hot and used. You’re too fucked out for another orgasm.

“Are you done?” You ask quietly, as Ethan pulls out of your abused cunt. He nods, fingers coming up to run across your jaw and tickle the tips of your ears. Chad moves to lay beside the both of you, his hands going to wrap around your wrist as a form of comfort.

“Yeah, baby. We’re done. C’mere, you have to rest.”

“Can we get McDonald’s after this?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Chad cuts in. “Anything you want.”

“I don’t know,” Ethan jokes. “She has her belly full now, doesn’t she?”

Chad grimaces. “Shut up, dude. That’s gross.”

“You literally swallowed my cum two days ago.”

“Yeah, because you held my head down —“

“You would’ve swallowed it anyway!”

A smile plasters on your face at their antics, and your eyes begin to close as the two boys wrap their arms around you.

Ethan watches the outline of your jaw, your soft neck littered with hickeys and bruises. And then to Chad, who’s hands gently graze his as they rest on your tummy. He smiles.

It’s almost perfect, this way. Chad has a job, Ethan’s working on getting one, and you… you’re here, and you’re perfect and you’re beautiful and—

Ethan is so mad.

It’s almost perfect— but there’s a problem. Of course there is, why fucking wouldn’t there be?

You still live in your parent’s house, after all.

Oh, you could move if you could. You could live with Chad, with Ethan, make things the way you want them to— but your mother is demanding. Threatening to cut off your college tuition money if you left was the part that had made you stay. Even after they accused Ethan of being a perverted freak of a person, after saying you were ‘too innocent’ and ‘too young’ to know what he was doing (you and Ethan are only two years apart).

So after they had left for an emergency business venture you knew where you could go. They told you not to, but it’s not like they’d figure it out. And being locked in your room was really starting to bore you.

Ethan’s blood has been boiling since the night you got caught. He wishes he could give you the money for your college, wishes he could give you the entire fucking world. But that doesn’t work on Chad’s salary and probably won’t work on the one Ethan’s about to have.

He wants you and Chad to only be with him.

That may sound selfish, but Ethan isn’t known for being necessarily generous. He wants the entire world to be cut off from the both of you, wants the only thing you both see to be him. Ethan could tear the world apart limb from limb just to have you and Chad forever.

It’s really starting to fuck with him.

Ethan is starting to scare you a little bit.

It’s not the sex— well, it is a little bit, but you enjoy it. He’s just been so.. out of it, recently.

Not in the sense of ‘he’s losing feelings’ or anything like that. It’s when he gets this look in his eyes. Sometimes when he thinks no else is looking, when those doe eyed things go dark and he seems like he’s thinking of doing something he shouldn’t. You don’t know what it is, exactly. But he looks so far off— as if he’s somewhere else. And he’s become more violent; in sex, in the way he holds you down and then holds Chad down the same way. It’s confusing.

And it’s also making you a bit nervous.

Chad doesn’t seem any different, at least from what you can tell. He’s still his same soft self— outside of sex, of course. He takes Ethan’s behavior in stride (and with a little bit of prep). But you can tell that he notices, too.

“I just think that you should drop out.”

Ethan’s voice is blaring with a twinge of annoyance, as he drives you back to your house. You told him he shouldn’t, that it’s too risky. But he won’t listen. You also know that when he says ‘drop out’ he actually means ‘leave our parents and be with me.’

You roll your eyes, hands going down to adjust your pink sundress.

“I can’t just drop out, Ethan. I have a career I’m set on.”

“We can make it work—“

“Don’t be stupid.” You mutter. His hands tap against the steering wheel impatiently, face turned up into one of anger. His blue shirt clings to him tightly, muscles are prominent.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” He snaps.

“Don’t make dumb suggestions.”

After that snide comment he shoves you into the house and bends you over the kitchen counter, regardless of your protests, like he did the first time. And then he left you with cum dripping all down your legs, while you waited for your parents to get home from their trip.

When they did you decided to not eat dinner that night.

Your mom has been on the fence since your secret had been revealed to the Landry household. Ethan — your stepbrother — has been fucking you for months.

You still remember the sound of Wayne’s voice screaming at the both of you:

“How could you do this?! After everything we’ve done for the both of you?!”

“You’re a disappointment to me, Ethan. I want you out!”

And then after, when Ethan had left, the words spewed at you.

“I can’t believe you would be such a whore.”

“How could you do this to our family? To me?!”

“You’re never seeing him again.”

Yeah, right.

You sigh, plopping down onto your bed. It’s almost time for you to go to college, the summer ending.

What a wild story you could tell if you had an essay due about your summer.

Your parents are downstairs, now. Doing— you don’t really know what they’re doing. You don’t come down from your room anymore.

A text dings on your phone. You smile.

E🫶🏻: you okay?

me: mhm

You pause. You bite your lip as you assemble to next message.

me: I miss u :)

A moment for him to reply.

E🫶🏻: I miss you too, bunny

E🫶🏻: chad said he misses you too

me: I miss u both >:(

me: we’ll see each other more when I’m away at college tho <3

E🫶🏻 : maybe I have a way to make us be with each other all the time :)

me: oh yeah lover boy? And what would that be

E🫶🏻: you’ll see.

Your brows furrow. A surprise, maybe? A gift? Maybe a new way for you to sneak out…

You don’t know. But your eyes are beginning to become heavy and sleepy; you tell him and Chad both good night and begin to sleep.

Your dreams have become nightmares, more or less. Images of blood and gore, a hand holding on a little too tight — it’s been the same for the past few nights. Your family, slaughtered.

A loud crash makes your eyelids flutter open.

You think you’ve only been asleep a few hours. Your hello kitty clock reads 2:37 a.m in giant bold letters, and your heart beats harshly against your chest at the sudden sound. Furrowing your brows, but being cautious, you grab the pink pocket knife you kept beside your bed. It isn’t much, but it’s something, at least. Creeping closer to the door you can hear that the noise has stopped— but that doesn’t calm you. You think of waking up your parents but you don’t want to make them any more mad than they already are.

You open your door. No one is outside your room, it seems. The sound must’ve come from downstairs. Creeping down the wooden steps you go into the living room and see that it’s empty.

Except for the window.

The one near the couch is wide open, and you can see that a house plant beside it got knocked over and broke all to pieces. You gulp, hands gripping the knife tighter. Your dreams have made you extremely paranoid, and if there really is an intruder, you won’t go down without a fight.

Another crash— from the kitchen this time, but not as loud as before. It was more of just.. commotion. You prepare yourself, breath heavy. You make your way to the doorway, prepared to strike and stab and hit….

Someone grabs you.

The knife clatters to the ground. So much for protecting yourself! Your immediate thought is to scream, but no words come out and a hand is covering your mouth. When they whirl you around and begin laughing your brows furrow and hot tears well up from the stress.

….It’s fucking Ethan.

He’s standing there, a shit eating grin on his face, wearing a muscle tee and jeans.

You sneer, pushing him harshly as you wipe your eyes.

“You fucking asshole!” you whisper yell. “You scared the fuck out of me! What the hell is wrong with you?”

He chuckles. “Sorry, sweetness. It’s just so funny to see the look on your face.”

You sniffle, crossing your arms and willing yourself not to cry anymore. “‘S not funny.”

Ethan’s smile drops, his hands reaching out wrap you into a hug. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, promise.”

He doesn’t seem that sorry, but you drop the subject.

“You literally broke in, Ethan. What if mom and dad wake up? You’ll be in so much trouble, i swear— they’ll call the fucking police on you—”

Your words stop when he turns his back to you, stalks into the kitchen, and begins rummaging through the house’s well renowned junk drawer.

“Calm down, baby. I just needed to get my watch. I forgot it before I moved… aha! There it is!”

He excitedly turns around and shows you the black and red band. He slips it around his wrist. You roll your eyes, and scoff.

“You broke into the house so you could take a watch?”

He gives you a mischievous look. He moves closer to you and his lips graze yours. You can’t help but smile.

“Maybe I came to take something else with me, too.”

You bite your lip, but your eyes go to the stairs.

“We can’t do that here. We’ll get caught.”

“Suit yourself, then,” Ethan quips. He sighs dramatically. “I guess I’ll just be on my way then..”

“No!” Your immediate to keep him here. To keep him with you. You aren’t the same without his company.

He smiles, lips grazing your neck. His teeth scrape against it and you admire the sting. “There’s my good girl.”

You kiss him, harsh. He tastes fresh and sweet. His hands find your waist and he pushes you against the kitchen counter. You whine, your hands reaching for the bulge in his pants— but your wrist hits his pocket and you feel something inside of it. You reach in, playful. But when you pull it out, it’s the pocket knife you dropped earlier. He must’ve picked it up when you weren’t looking.

“Why do you need my knife?” You ask, as his lips peck your chin and jawline. He looks down, at it in your hands, white teeth shining as he smiles.

“Maybe I like to have a part of you with me wherever I go.”

It’s endearing. But this feeling settles in your stomach— something you can’t quite place. However, you slide the blade back into his pocket and begin to kiss him again. His fingers are right there, just about to brush over your clit.

And out of the corner of your eye, you see the upstairs light flicker on.

You panic, lips breaking away from Ethan’s as you hear footsteps. You’ve lived long enough in the house to know who’s it is— it’s your mother’s. Your eyes widen.

“Hide!”

Ethan mouths the words oh shit before running into the living room. You pray he finds a decent hiding spot. Your mom comes down the stairs, in her robe and with messy hair. She seems like she’s just woken up.

“Is there someone else down here with you?” She says, confused.

You shake your head, nervously biting your thumbnail.

“No, mom. No one is down here. It’s just me.”

“Huh.”

She looks around and she walks into the living room. You follow her in fear, and when you catch Ethan’s sneakers underneath the window curtain you almost fucking scream in frustration. Your mother is too busy looking at her broken plant and the opened window for her to notice.

“Oh my god! Did someone break in?” She exclaims. Your heart beats rapidly.

“Uhm— no!” You say, exasperated and lying.

You try your best to think up a good fake story. “I slept-walked again, i think. I’ve been meaning to tell you… it’s been a while but I think it’s starting up again.”

You haven’t slept-walked since you were twelve. Your mom sighs, annoyed.

“Shit. I’ll call the doctor in the morning, then. We’ll see if he can find anything for it. Because if it’s to the point where you’re breaking things and opening windows..”

“—That’s not necessary, mom, really.”

“I’m calling them, y/n.” She states. She looks you up and down for a moment. If you don’t know any better you think a look of disgust is on her face. “For once in your life, please make yourself useful and clean this up.”

Your head hangs down, and you bite your lower lip to keep from snapping at her. “Yes ma’am.”

When she goes back up stairs, Ethan comes out of his hiding spot. You breathe out a sigh of relief, but Ethan’s fists are clenched.

“She shouldn’t talk to you like that.” He says.

You shrug, threading your fingers through his. His curls are sticking to his forehead, cheeks flushed. He’s absolutely precious, even when he’s angry.

“Doesn’t matter, E. Forget about it.”

He narrows his eyes at the stairs, as if she was standing there and he could see her. Your thoughts go back to the knife and you get that feeling again. But your lips are back on his in an instant and it seems that Ethan quickly forgets his rage. His hand rests on the back of your head as he tries to drag you to the couch. But you shake your head and giggle.

“Not here. I’m not getting caught fucking you again.”

“Technically, we weren’t fucking.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Still.”

So you drag him up the stairs. It’s scary, because your parents are also up there, but at least you’re both better concealed. He fucks you raw on the bed and chokes you with his incredibly toned arms. And then he lays with you and you both smoke a joint out the window so it doesn’t smell.

But even then, and even after he left, your thoughts still linger on the knife he had taken with him.

#Ethan Landry #Ethan Landry x fem! reader #stepbrother! ethan Landry x reader #stepbrother! ethan Landry x fem! reader #ethan Landry smut #Chad Meeks Martin #Chad Meeks Martin x reader #Chad Meeks Martin x fem! reader #Chad Meeks Martin smut #ethan Landry x chad Meeks Martin x reader #ethan Landry x chad Meeks Martin #scream #scream vi #scream iv #jack champion #mason gooding #scream vi fanfiction #ghost face x reader #ghost face

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comradekatara · 4 months

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What do you think of non-Air Nomad air bender AUs? Newly born air benders who, obviously, aren't connected to Air Nomad culture. From the perspective of bending being genetic or even a spiritual gift passed along bloodlines, rather than the vague handwavey spirituality of LOK. I mostly discount LOK honestly, but that's a separate point. I firmly believe that a group of nomads, many of whom travelled solo from at least late teenagerhood, were not fostering bastards left, right and centre. Every bloodline on that planet should include some air, even if it's much more diluted in closely tracked noble lineages. I get *why* this wasn't explored, but I still like to think about how each character would interact w that facet of the world and I'd like your thoughts on it.

yeah i think a crucial disclaimer is acknowledging that aang, thematically, is necessarily the last airbender, not just in the sense that he has air nomad genes, but in the sense that due to his temporal displacement, he represents the last surviving air nomad whose identity and culture hasn’t been completely erased by the genocide. so if there are any surviving descendants of air nomads, which realistically, is likely (i do like the idea that ty lee & her family are descendants of refugees whose heritage has been systematically erased as they attempted to assimilate into the culture & customs of their oppressors, as i think it actually scans rly well for her character) they’re obviously still not air nomads in the sense that aang is an air nomad. over a hundred years of vicious systematic erasure would mean that any remaining enclaves of airbenders holding out after the comet would have been persecuted or forced to assimilate a long time ago. the genetics of bending are… murky, especially when you factor in how it’s inextricably tied to spirituality and what that means, but it’s not out of the question that someone with, for example, an airbender great grandparent could have inherited that trait and managed to hide their bending well enough so as not to be persecuted for it (think haru being forced to hide his earthbending). like it’s not the kind of plot atla could have explored for evident thematic reasons, but it’s definitely plausible.

#estra-die-ol #asks #aang #ty lee #analysis #ish #and yeah im not even gonna get into lok. bc why bother

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servantserah · 1 year

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Tbf and this is an unpopular opinion in the fandom and I get why, I've thought since my second watch (I always focus more on the main plot or characters the first go, then do a second watch for the details, side characters, etc) that if anyone was decently set up for a redemption arc it was Gabriel.

Okay let me explain that lol.

Gabriel is kinda different from the other archangels. Sure, he's still distanced, still mocks Aziraphale's hobbies... But he's also the only one who also has not one but two earthly hobbies. I think he doesn't eat because he's kinda scared it's Gluttony since he doesn't need it. But he also doesn't need jogging or clothes, and to me that looks like the Well Actually excuses of a very very early Aziraphale. He's not a hypocrite and a liar like Michael, who wants to kill Aziraphale for a crime she's guilty of. Not sadistic like Sandalphon. And he can be cruel, but more in an oblivious way than deliberately like Uriel does. Beelzebub did way more harm than him -both were pissed at the airbase but Bee told Satan about it while Gabriel just huffed and puffed.

During the execution he just wants to get it over with and more importantly, I think, when Crowley spits hellfire at them, Gabriel yanks Uriel and Sandalphon behind him and shields them with his body even though it's just as lethal to him. His first instinct is to protect his siblings.

Besides the fact that he can be obnoxious and rude, I think the real problem is that he's way too convinced that he's doing the right thing. He's genuinely flabbergasted when Crowley suggests that She may have different plans and I think the 'God doesn't play games with the universe' 'Where have you been??' exchange is very revealing. (God Herself admits She does lol). God hasn't talked to the angels for ages, and Gabriel is the Messenger. He's still operating on a very old plan because he thinks if it had changed he would be the first to know. But nobody is because God has fucked off the premises and only left the equivalent of a voicemail machine. Gabriel didn't have a Crowley to help him shake off Heaven's programming, and I think a lot of people forget Gabriel is programmed too. He's higher on the hierarchy but he's been taught the same rote and he believes it wholeheartedly (Michael doesn't, see back channels).

So even though I enjoy villain! Gabriel stories because there's a great setup for them, precisely because aside from a few details he's a blank sheet, I love redemption arc stories because that setup is there too. What if he gets to discover and enjoy more of Earth, rediscover himself outside of his role, rebuild his life now that the plan he followed blindly is moot? What if he feels lost, unmoored, and trying to recover he becomes better? Idk I just feel like out of all the others, he has the most potential for that kind of thing. So even though he did worse things in Myosotis than in canon, I'm like 👀 at his pain and where this goes.

Wow sorry for the rant haha

Interesting 👀 Did he really pull Sandalphon and Uriel behind him? Neat little detail.

It’s not impossible that Gabriel will receive his redemption arc in canon (or maybe an arc where he gets kinda redeemed but he’s still kind of an asshole and no one rly wants to spend much time with him lol), based on the stuff we know about him so far. I agree with some of your points!

But my opinion for canon may not necessarily reflect within this Myosotis: Falter, I keep these two separated!

(The Gabriel in my GoodGardenerAU actually does get sorta redeemed (in the way I mentioned above) but I've barely shown him so far so I won’t open that box for now,,,,)

#serahtalks #good omens gabriel #myosotis falter

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dwreader · 4 months

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Can I ask what has made you think the season isn’t Louis/armand/claudia centred? I know the fandom is annoying but I’ve yet to see anything to convince me that the actual show itself isn’t going to be completely centred around them. Daniel is just a part of their modern day narrative, he has to have some character exploration or there’s no point to him/ no vehicle for the interview to take place. Lestat is just a part of the past narrative, I think the flashbacks are mostly going to be about Armands past with the theatre which involves Lestat and Nicki, Armand needs to be fleshed out a bit as a character cause I doubt we’ll get to a TVA season. I just haven’t seen anything yet that makes me think it’s Daniel/Lestat’s story they’re just a part of the overall story. Idk I’m just hopeful I guess but I don’t see why we’re doom posting before we know what we’re actually gonna get, unless there’s something you’ve seen in particular?

I think the interview happening because of a daniel lost memories arc completely undercuts the story as being louis's no matter how much or little screentime they actually devote to it. I don't rly think there's going to be a lot of screentime on young daniel just based on how little the actor was there (even nicki's actor was on in prague way longer) but the central question of the season/second half of the book being what happened to claudia and does louis know turning into what's been erased from daniel's mind completely changes the show's centrality. It's not necessarily that daniel is suddenly going to be the main lead which he's obviously not but what the show deems an impactful reveal does affect how we view the importance of the characters and relationships. And to me throwing in a whole amnesia storyline about the white guy 100% takes away from the premise of the interview altogether. Its very very jarring when in the book daniel was entirely irrelevant to loumand but in the show suddenly he's the main figure in the room... very deliberate choice and kind of screams they have no confidence in loumand carrying the show on their own.

As for the Lestat/Nicki/Marius/etc flashbacks, I just think it's not relevant to the Louis + Claudia arc in the book at all? and you'd never in a million years see a Lestat-centric TVL season be shoehorned with random bits of Louis or Claudia backstory that occur w/o Lestat even there and have little to no relevance to the main plot. In fact, you probably could've dropped some TVL bits in s1 since it's clear Louis does know about Nicki already in NOLA but the show doesn't go there cause it doesn't feel the need to (as Lestat is already a co-lead in s1 and has a lot of screentime as is). But I think once they were given the OK to make the book into 2 seasons they realized the second half was going to be almost entirely louis-armand-claudia with only a brief lestat appearance at the end... and yeah. If they really have the confidence that the show would get multiple seasons then why try to cram so much later book stuff into this season? Supposedly AMC wants 10 seasons and like theoretically you'll have plenty of time for all this when Louis's main arc is over so why are you doing this now when he actually does have a story left to tell? Or do they think if they don't sprinkle this shit now, most of their book loyalists will bolt since they don't care about non-white characters without a white person tether.

#also amc has still been chasing the AR fandom its very clear #and the nicki casting kind of confirmed to me they're REALLY chasing it

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amidstnamjin-and-binchanlix · 7 months

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i don't wanna look at anything else (now that i saw you)

Warnings: Uhhh. Not much. Just some v v light angst, and Jackjack being a teeny tiny bit of a dumbass lil shit. Mentions of alcohol and getting drunk fuk yeah no don't do too much alcohol, kids. body and image insecurities, too.

Pairings: Jackson Wang/Reader

Plot: In another lifetime, another universe, your happy ending has always been in front of you all along.

Genre: light angst, eventual happy ending

And I can still see it all (In my mind)

All of you, all of me (Intertwined)

I once believed love would be (Black and white)

But it's golden (Golden)

And I can still see it all (In my head)

Back and forth from New York (Sneaking in your bed)

I once believed love would be (Burning red)

But it's golden

Like daylight, like daylight

Like daylight, daylight

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

(I can never look away)

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

(Things will never be the same)

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

(Now I'm wide awake)

mixtape: all i have left to give - part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - ending 1

Oooooooohhhhweeeeeee

This is crazy

So much has happened since I last posted.

i got psychiatric help so guess who's on meds now? yay (not)

i mentioned here before that when I write the mixtape series, it's not necessarily in chronological order. I already have a rough draft in my mind of how it would go, and I am already planning to write the prequel to the first part, but it won't necessarily mean that it will come first. I also have an idea of what will happen for the ending(s?), but I have yet to muster the energy to write continuously right now bc so much has happened irl

With that being said, my next part will be a glimpse of one of the "what-if" endings. If it irks you that my writings are all over the place, I'm so sorry but I rly cant force my brain to write at one linear pace. As I always say, I hope I don't disappoint, and I'm so sorry if I do.

Thank you so much for loving my babies and for giving them the time of the day. Every time I get a notification of likes/reblogs/kudos/bookmarks, it warms my heart bc wtf it is more than I ever hoped for

thank you so much once again! this part is for those who are rooting for my babie jackjack because hey, he's a fuckin sweetheart and i love him to bits

just a little trigger warning for some insecurities because this is kinda self-projecting, i'm so sorry T_T

🌅

Soft morning light greets you when you open your eyes.

You've always relished in these times—the seconds or minutes of blank bliss and silence in between waking up and lucidity. These are times of peace before facing the storm of the day.

You stare at the ceiling of the room, the cream-colored walls, then the photos that line up your drawers.

So much has happened these past few months. Sometimes, you still can't believe that you've survived through it, that you powered through it. You genuinely thought it would end up killing you, and that you'd die hurting inside out.

But you lived, and you're happy now.

You turn your head to the side to find him, still slumbering. You take a deep breath and dig your fingers into your palm, afraid that this will all be a dream, and that you'll wake up with sweat on your forehead and blood on your lips and sheets.

You honestly would never have made it without him.

The one and only constant in your life, your ride-or-die.

Jackson.

He had been there through everything—the treatments, the hospitalizations, the relapses, and the recovery. He was there to see you fall apart at 3 a.m., see you struggle with breathing at random times of the day, there to see you bleed out from the love you had (have) for the other men who were supposed to love you back unconditionally.

He was there through everything, and he never once let go of your hand.

Sometimes, you think how it would be if you ended up with them; what would happen? Would you be happier? How would it be different from how it is right now?

But then, you think, they never loved you the way you wished to, the way they should've until you were on the brink of death. There would be too much resentment, too much guilt, too much pain. You would never be truly happy.

You feel guilty thinking about these things. You are genuinely happy— happier even—than you've ever been. Jackson never made you feel like you have to be someone else, like you have to live up to someone's high expectations. You never have to cry again, except when he goes on tour and you miss him, or when you're so happy with him that tears just can't help but make confetti in your eyes.

But then, you and Jackson both know that it is inevitable, that the love for the seven men who were once the center of your soul would never really go away. And he's okay with it, you're both okay with it. You've both made peace that they will always be a part of your life. All that matters is Jackson is your home now, that he's the one that you'll come home to. He's the one that you will make a space for in your heart, and the only one that will occupy it and stay for good.

Jackson is home, and he always will be.

You reach out and carefully brush Jackson's hair away from his still-closed eyes. Moments like this you miss the most when he's away on tour and you can't go with him. It gets lonely, but his coming home with the biggest and proudest smile on his face makes everything worth it.

He is worth it, and he always will be.

You scoot closer to his sleeping figure, wrapping your arm around his waist. Februaries are always cold, so his body warmth is heaven-sent. It is also one of the things you miss during times apart. You grew up in a non-affectionate household, touch-starved to the point that you became touch- repulsed. But after getting to know how Jackson feels like home, you can never get enough of his touch. You can never go for too long without it, and you can say you almost reverted to being touch-starved.

You shift to wrap yourself around him, slinging your leg lightly over his. You hear him groan as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, trying not to miss him already. You still have two weeks left before he leaves again for his next tour, but you can already feel the creeping sadness and pit in your stomach.

You're getting separation anxiety again. Maybe it's time to talk to your therapist.

Your fingers find themselves curled on his arms lightly, tracing shapes and absently doodling on his skin.

"You're up early," comes Jackson's sleep-laden voice, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.

"'m not up yet," you grumble, subtly inhaling the scent of his skin. "And it's already seven AM; not early."

Jackson chuckles. "Okay, okay. No need to get pouty."

You huff. "I'm not pouty," an irony as you can actually feel yourself pout more when he says that. "It's really just not early."

It is early, you actually know it. But you want to spend more time with him before he sets off to wow the whole world again while you stay behind and wait for him to come home, so no, it's not really early.

You feel him kiss your hair. "Ah. I'm still here, but you already miss me." He laughs lightly. "What would you do without me?"

You know it's a joke, but your abandonment issues have been seriously acting up for a while now. You have to swallow before answering.

"I'd die without you," you blink rapidly to stop yourself from crying, trying to keep your tone light. "Terribly, so."

"Hey," Jackson tries to push your shoulder gently to look at your face, but you don't want him to see your crumpled expression.

"Hey, don't cry. It's too early for you to cry." You sniff, not wanting to let go of him. "I'm joking. You can never get rid of me at this point."

"But you can get rid of me," you fail to not sound miserable. "You can find someone else and settle down with them, someone whole."

A pause.

"Someone not broken."

"No." This time, Jackson's tone is firm, almost angry. "I don't like you talking about yourself like this, and I won't get rid of you. Is that what you think of me?"

"No, but you—"

"'But I ' nothing '," he says. He sits you both up and he puts his hands on your shoulders. "I fought nail and tooth just so I can have my happy ending with you. I fought with the law, I fought your soulmates, and I will fight all over again just so I can have this until we grow old and wrinkly. Why would I get rid of someone I've wanted my whole life? That's fucking stupid."

Your lips curl in a slight pout, trembling with all the tears that want to escape. You absently touch your chest, used to the phantom pain that came with the soul-scraping before. It's gone now, but all the things you used to do, used to go through, as well as the painful memories are still here.

"I..." You start, voice hoarse. "Sorry, I just don't want a repeat of that, you know?"

"I know."

"And I know you're not like them, but there are so many reasons things don't work out. And not to be dramatic or what—erm—," you clear your throat, "but I won't survive the next time I go through that again." Not if everything goes into plan, that next step you are planning with him. "It'll kill me."

You won't survive another soul-scraping, you just won't.

"You won't. I won't leave, I promise." Jackson presses a tender kiss on your lips, running his thumb on your cheek as he cradles it gently. "As I said, we'll grow old and wrinkly. We'll be that meme on Facebook where we grow old together and play bump cars with wheelchairs."

You snort softly. "If you damage my rhetorical wheelchair, I'm using yours. You crawl on the ground."

He grins, a lovely sight on his pretty face. "I'll always crawl my way back to you," he croons.

Jackson leans in and captures your lips in a gentle kiss. His hand finds its way inside your top and you flinch unintentionally. He tenses, then pulls away.

"I'm sorry," you hurriedly say.

"Hey," he says, eyes searching your face. "No need to apologize. I'm sorry. We don't need to do anything you don't want to."

"No, no. I want to." You pause, biting your lip. "It's just... my scar." You absently trace your myectomy scar. He looks at you, willing you to go on. "It's ugly." Among all other things.

"You will never be ugly." You open your mouth to retort but he silences you with a serious look. "I love you, scars and all. But as I said, we don't have to do anything. I just want to spend my time with you, and I'm good."

God, you think, I really think I'll marry you.

You surge up with a fierce kiss to his lips, taking your top off before you can change your mind.

"Wait, wait." Jackson puts his hand on yours, stopping you from taking your shirt off. "No."

"No?" You swallow thickly.

"No, not like that," he says hurriedly, seeing your mood shift. "Is it a good day?"

You know what he means, and it is not.

"No," you agree in a small voice. "It isn't."

You've gotten far from your insecurities, but they sometimes come back sneakily, like they did yesterday and today, of all days.

"We can keep your shirt on if you'd like?" he offers.

You take one look at him. Yup, you'll definitely marry him.

"Please?" You implore with your eyes.

He smiles softly. "Then we keep your shirt on."

His smile turns wicked.

"Won't stop me from eating you out from under it, though."

---

"Mark!"

"No," Mark says flatly. "You're not backing out of this."

"But—"

"Do you love him?" he asks.

"Yes!"

"Do you want to marry his ugly face?"

"He's not ugly, but yes!"

"Do you want to spend your lifetime kissing his ugly face?"

"Again, my Jackson is not ugly, but yes, I do!"

"Did you change your mind then?"

"Y—no, I did not!"

"Then why are you backing out?!"

"Because what if he doesn't want to?" [Name] bursts out to which Mark snorts impatiently. "What if doesn't want that for life? That's a lifetime of commitment, Mark. I can't undo that shit."

"You think he would want to?" Mark asks, almost angry, his patience growing thin. He rolls his eyes to heaven when he sees you in near tears.

"He wants to marry your equally ugly face," to which you splutter a 'hey!', "he talks, breathes, and sleeps nothing but [Name], [Name], [Name]." He sighs.

"Do you really think he would let go of you now?"

You know at this point that your fear is redundant and irrational, but you can't help it. Not when your own (ex-)soulmates didn't want you. It took you almost dying, and choosing your dignity and self-respect before they turned around. And even then, it was too late. Your soul is having none of it.

Mark softens at your silence. "Did you talk to your therapist about this?"

You nod. "Yeah. He said that I should start forgiving myself and moving forward and that I should believe that not everyone is like them. Not everyone will leave me."

"He's right. We won't leave you. We're stuck with you, just like how you're stuck with us. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay, good. Now, give me my hug because I just got from a long tiring flight because someone didn't want me to ride her private jet." He glares at you.

You laugh. "I told you, I need to fly here earlier than you since you can't cancel your meeting."

"You could've—I don't know—waited for me, maybe?" He pulls you in a tight hug.

Before you two can pull away, however, you both hear the sounds of Jackson's voice and the door opening.

Oh, shit.

You two freeze on your hug. You don't understand why you did but you just feel guilty, like being caught with your hand down your pants. You and Mark pull away from each other quickly.

"What's this? Hugging without me, huh?" Jackson jokes, but you can hear the slight insinuation in his voice, one that Mark does as well.

"Yeah, I'm stealing your girlfriend, Wang. Watch out." Mark smirks lightheartedly.

This bitch!

Jackson's eyebrow twitches. "You wish." They embrace in a brief hug before he turns to you with a soft smile on his pretty face.

Wow. Years in and you still can't get your heart to shut up over his smile.

"Hey," he says softly. "This is a very nice surprise."

"I missed you and the bed was cold," you pout slightly. "So here I am."

"Ah, I knew it. You just want a bed warmer." In the background, you can hear Mark fake gag, and Jackson gives him the finger.

"No, I want my Jackson not an electric blankie, smartass."

"Your Jackson, huh?" Mark fake gags again, and you smile at Jackson's 'fuck off, Tuan'.

"This is not what I signed up for, so I'm leaving you lovebirds to it."

"About time." This time, it's Jackson who grumbles, and you and Mark both laugh. "Shut up."

---

The next few days of the tour see Jackson busier than ever, and so are you. With the tour coming to its end, you scramble to get the last steps of your surprise into place. After all, Jackson deserves the best, and you don't want to give him any less.

This also means that you both get to see less of each other. You miss him and it sucks, and Jackson sometimes gets to receive the burnt of it, unfortunately.

"Hey. It's okay, everything's going to be okay," he says. You are so close to bursting and just saying fuck it, but you can't, so you let out a frustrated growl.

"It is not, stop saying that again and again." It is not. The local producer and local venue producer are being tough nuts to crack for some unknown reason, and are uncooperative. They are the only remaining people you need in on the plan, so it is taking too much time and effort on your part. Not that Jackson is not worth it, but the headache is just a bitch to deal with. "It really isn't so I ask you to kindly fuck off, Jackson. I don't need you patronizing me right now."

"Hey," he says firmly, his jaw heavy set. "I'm not doing anything, so don't take your shit out on me."

Ah, shit.

"Jacks—"

"Is it because I'm taking much of your time?"

"What?"

"Is it because I'm taking your time away to be with Mark?"

Your jaw drops. "Excuse me?"

"You think I don't see how you spend your time with him? How close you two seem to be nowadays?"

Aw, hell no.

"Jackson, no. What the fuck?"

"No, no. It's okay. You don't need to explain, you know? If you want to be with Mark-hyung, it's fine. I'm not gonna stand in the way."

"What are you talking about? Are you saying I'm cheating on you?" you ask in disbelief.

Jackson shakes his head. "I'm saying that if you want to be with him, you don't need to start picking fights just so we can break up." His eyes turn sad. "I'll let you go, you just have to ask."

Your chest hurts at that, stirring up old feelings you thought you'd never be able to feel again. "And you're gonna let me go, just like that?"

Silence.

You laugh humorlessly. "Wow. And you think of me that way, too."

"[Name]—"

"No." You thank whatever fuck there is that you had the foresight to book a separate room to plan your surprise (not that you sleep in it, with you opting to always sleep beside Jackson since arriving) and take your bag from the chair by the window of the suite.

"Thank you for clearing that shit up. At least I know now where I stand."

Jackson grasps your wrist delicately. "Sweetheart—"

You pull your wrist away from him. "Don't 'sweetheart' me, Jackson." He stops at the sight of the brimming tears in your eyes, the hurt painted in it.

"I trusted you with shit, you knew how I abhor those things you accuse me of. You knew how I hated my mom because of the things she did, and yet you dared think I am like her."

"I didn't—"

"Yes, you did, Jackson. Because if you only knew how full I am of you since the day I let those bastards go from my life." You sniff. "It's only and always been you, you, and you. Everyone knew that; everyone knows that."

"I don't—"

"Yeah, you don't. So I'll spare you the time and just leave you be. I never plan to force myself into something or someone, and I don't plan to start now."

Jackson tries to refute that it isn't the case, but you slam the door shut in his face behind you before he can even get a word in.

[ah, these kids. what do i do with you two?]

Jackson looks at the door you just slammed shut in his face, then to the dresser in his suite that you never opened. You two had always been intertwined, but you always gave him his space and privacy. He walks towards it, opens it, and takes the velvet box with the sparkling ring in it.

All I can say is you two are idiots, and everyone will agree with me.

---

"You what?!"

You grumble, shielding your bottle away from Mark. "Please don't shout at me, I'm already having a hard time as it is." You try to pull off your pitiful face, but Mark only makes his own face at you.

To be fair, Mark finds you pitiful, but not in that way. And he kind of wants to punch Jackson in the face right now too because seriously, you and Mark? It's like him and his sisters, what the actual fuck?

He can't blame the man, however. Everyone in the circle knows how Jackson has been wounded by the relationships he was in before, so it's easier for him to switch to defense mode. Jackson has always been prone to leave before he gets left when he feels like the other party is slowly losing interest.

But the dumbass has always been prone to the dumbest dumbassery in the group. And this? This takes the cake, Mark could roll his eyes to heaven.

"And you didn't bother to, I don't know, explain shit to him?" he asks with the patience of a saint.

You pout. You had the audacity to pout and Mark feels the patience slowly slipping away from him. "No. It's not gonna be a surprise anymore if I do."

Holy fuck.

"Are you shitting my dick right now?" he mutters. You only snort and Mark pulls away the bottle from you.

"Hey!"

"Listen to me. It's not gonna be a surprise anymore if you two break up because there'll be no one to surprise. You know he is a dumbass and you decided to be a dumbass too?"

"Hey! He accused me first! I didn't accuse him anything when he shot that sexy ass shoot with the ashes and stuff—"

"—Cruel." Mark supplies helpfully.

"Yes, that. I didn't do that with the main dancer when they've been cute and friendly and shit off cam, and yet he accuses me with you." You belch and gag, and Mark steps away slightly from you to avoid any impending projectile vomiting. "Like 'ew'."

"I agree with you, but how dare you, bitch? Are you saying I'm 'ew'?"

You level him with a look as much as you can with your drunk face, and Mark has never had the urge to headlock a woman before.

"Anyway," you say forlornly, "at least I know where we stand now." You sniff, and Mark feels bad for you (a little).

"No, you really don't. I thought that by now, you would know how he is."

"You weren't there when he said it!" You burst out angrily. "He means it! Do you know how it feels standing there and being practically told that he knows I'll leave him for other people, and that he'll let me?" You burp loudly again. "Me, of all people? When he knew how I detest that shit. With all the things I went through?"

And then you burst into ugly sobs.

[ah, jackson. you really are one dumbass.]

"Hey, hey, no," Mark says, wrapping his arms around you. "Don't cry. You're not allowed to cry. Doctor Im told you you're still healing; you're not even allowed to drink."

"Yet here I am," you say with a shaky laugh that morphs into another sob. "Again."

You're not sure if you're just talking about drinking or the fact that you're on the brink of losing yourself again over lost relationships. It's tiring, really. But it is what it is, as they say.

"Can you—can you please get my bag?" you ask Mark. "By the door, tossed it earlier," you slur.

You've never really shown Mark the ring you want to propose to Jackson with. Mark assumed that it is flashy, and you're never one for flashy things, so you're embarrassed about it.

That's not it, however. Completely the opposite, actually. The engagement ring is totally simple, a silver band encrusted with small diamonds on top. The only flashy thing about it is the bigger diamond heart in the center and the smaller gems that surround it on both sides.

The smaller gems are the highlights, you think. You took them from the necklace with both the birthstones that were gifted by Jackson to you during your first year anniversary and had them cut delicately to fit the ring you had in mind. On the right heart side are your birthstones, while on the left are Jackson's. You know some might find it too feminine, and Jackson might not be able to wear it that much in his line of work, but the ring is the most beautiful thing you have ever created in your life.

And now, Jackson won't be able to see it. That thought brings you to a fresh round of tears.

"Too girly, isn't it?" You ask Mark, who is silent. "And it should be the other way around—he should be the one asking me to marry him. I still would've asked him to marry me with this, Mark. That's how I don't give a shit. I just wanna marry his ugly face, but now I can't."

"You wanna marry me?" Comes a soft voice behind you and Mark. You jerk away, and Mark gently unwraps his arms around you as Jackson steps forward.

"I'll let you lovebirds talk," Mark says as he pulls away, but your wide eyes (as wide as bloodshot eyes can be) are only trained on Jackson. Mark pats Jackson's shoulder with a low 'we'll talk later', and Jackson only nods. It is silent until Mark closes the door behind him.

"You wanna marry me?" Jackson asks again. "You're gonna ask to marry me, [Name]?"

You can only nod, your eyes shut as your tears don't stop falling.

"Stay here," he only says. It's not like you're going anywhere, so you stay put. However, when five minutes turn to fifteen, then to twenty, you start to think that Jackson has either gone to sleep or gone off to god knows where. Before you can even think about getting up and running after him, the door to your suite opens.

"Come here, stand up." Jackson takes your hand and helps you stand up. He wipes your face with his hand, then with the cold cloth that someone hands him (whom you recognize is one of his staff). Other staff start to fuss over you as someone turns on the overhead lights.

"Wait, what?" you ask as someone starts to powder your face. "What's happening?"

You turn to Jackson, who's being ushered into a suit. You are ushered yourself by the few staff he had roped into helping into the other room to change into a tulle sweetheart dress.

"We're getting married."

---

"So, Jackson..." You hear the host through the speakers start his next question as you wait backstage with Mark. Even with the elopement, you're still going through with your plan.

That other plan.

"No," Mark says flatly. "You're not backing out of this."

Here we go again, but this time, Mark is a little less pissed and more exhausted with your shenanigans.

"No, I'm just saying. Maybe I should do this in private instead? This is the equivalent of putting a girl on the spot with marriage proposals, which, for the record, I absolutely detest because fuck having choice and not cornering them into whatever they want, right?"

"While I do agree with you, he'll pee his pants and probably hump you if you do this than to be put off, trust me," Mark says. "And besides, everything is ready. All it needs is the execution."

Mark has a point.

Before you can wimp out again, you hear your name being called to an uproar of cheers. You're lucky Jackson's fanbase is mostly supportive of your relationship since you two came out a few years ago, though it is not without some minor hiccups and a few outrage from the unsupportive ones. What matters however is you lucked out, and you can never be more grateful.

"[Name] [Last Name], ladies and gentlemen!" You hear the host say as you see Jackson's blinding grin when you step out from the backstage.

Oh, you swoon. My smitten darling [Name].

Steady, girl.

"So, Miss [Last Name]—"

"It's Mrs. Wang, actually." You hear gasps from the audience, and Jackson's blinding grin turns lovelier and wider. "We actually got married in secret, and you forgot this at home." You hand him his ring as you grin mischievously.

"Okay, Peeta Mellark." Jackson rolls his eyes good-naturedly as he slips on his ring. "What a way to break it to them."

"My, my." The host fans himself with a wide smile. "Is this what you meant when you told me you'll be getting me a high rating?"

"I hope so," you say sheepishly. "If it doesn't, then no worries. I still have another trick in my hat. Don't you worry."

You look at Jackson and can't help but laugh inwardly at his clueless smile.

Oh, dear.

The interview goes without a hitch, with it mostly centered on your married life. You were originally nervous about how it would turn out, but it had been so far so good. Nobody threw shoes, and all that happened was a little 'booooo' when asked if you had had your honeymoon yet (which not yet, because you were both busy for a while after his tour).

"So, [Name]," the host asks again with a little waggle of his eyebrows. "What is this other trick of yours you mentioned earlier?"

Ah, shit. Here we go.

"Ah." Your smile turns a little serene, and you see Jackson sit up straighter in his seat. Nobody would notice it if they are not in tune with him, but he practically owns your whole soul, and you'd like to think that you do his, too, so you notice it.

"Have I told you my story about my soulmates?"

The host shakes his head. "Pray, do tell."

"Well, not everyone gets lucky with theirs. Everyone knows that." You smile sadly, the audience turning quiet.

"Yes, of course. A very sad fact that everyone is very well acquainted with." The host smiles sympathetically at you.

"I used to think it was the end of the world when mine didn't want anything to do with me. I kept thinking that something was wrong with me, that maybe I was really not worth their time. That maybe I was meant to suffer and die hurting."

You pause, then you look at Jackson. "But then I realize, I have you," you say softly.

You look back at the host.

"What more can I ask for when I have him?"

Your smile turns happier as the audience lets out a quiet 'aww'.

"I really like doing things unconventional and my way so..."

You bite your lower lip as you look once again at Jackson, who has his eyes trained on you and hanging on to every word you say.

"Would you give me the honor of being my forever soulmate, Jackson?"

It was like a time warp. The moment he said yes, cheers erupted, and everything blurred and warped in your ears. All your fears, all the hurt and pain? It was gone.

This is your happy ending, you deserve it, my dear [Name].

Go live it.

---

Meanwhile, somewhere a thousand miles away, a group of young men smile sadly at what could have been, and what was lost. Their chests perpetually ache with the loss of a piece of a soul they can never get back.

#soul bonds #mixtape: all i have left to give #jackson wang/reader #jackson wang fics #miscommunication #got7 fics #got7 jackson

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lookingforcactus · 5 months

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Live action Yu Yu Hakusho liveblog: ep 1

This is so much fun. Nostalgia time. 13 year old me is LIVING

Warning for like whole ep 1 spoilers and all

Yusuke and Botan look great which I already knew going in from the gifset that informed me this show exists lol, but it's delightful, bc the characters in this show aren't necessarily the easiest to translate to live action

Botan is adorable. Her hair is adorable. And I'm delighted to see that Yusuke's hair is the Correct amount of Poufy

Plot twist: Kuwabara hot. He looks great actually. Translated nonliterally compared to Yusuke but v well. The actor is selling me on it too, fun casting

Kuwabara was always hard for me to watch in the original bc he set off my vicarious embarrassment soo hard. Glad they're less committed to making him the constant source of painful comedic relief here lol

KOENMA PACIFIER REVEAL I LOVE IT

Laughed out loud for real tbh

Idk if I'm a little disappointed he's not a baby but like live action would make that ridic hard to do in a lot of ways so I don't blame them at all. He's in his adult form which makes sense. Still damn glad they kept the pacifier it is RUINING his dignity and I love it

I also don't blame them for cutting the flying oar effects. A lil sad but the initial transition to Reikai looked great so they're forgiven

Yusuke. "No thanks." I knew it was coming and the delivery still made me laugh out loud. Just dropped it in there. Yusuke I love you please see a therapist

Fight scenes are v creative and p epic

Seriously they do a really good job of making Yusuke's fighting style as a human believable, fun to watch, and effective. He rly does come off as just kind of a natural fighting genius (with practice ofc)

Sakyo in ep 1? Weird but I'm not opposed. The wavy hair is kinda freaking me out though ngl. Smoothness was just such his THING in the show it's distracting

Really liked Yusuke's mom's introduction (not that it was flattering to her as a character) but I wish they'd done more with her in the rest of the ep. Her power hug at the end is great tho

Show's slowing down a bit but it's fine I'm still having fun, the nostalgia power will get me through basically whatever

NO PUU!!!! This is tragic but I Do understand this as an adaptation choice. Reluctantly. Tragic tho.

Bug under guy's face effect EPICALLY creepy

That said I keep watching the motion of him and the other demons in this ep and thinking about Hayao Miyazaki said about the disgusting cruelty of using effects technology to make the scary scary inhuman monsters just fucking. look and move like disabled ppl

Seriously I keep seeing flashes of the appearance and movements of people I know with developmental disabilities (particularly this one guy I know with cerebral palsy but also I've worked in care work for disabled adults and just kind of a lot of people in general) and. I hate this. Especially as a person who DOES have a (nonvisible) developmental disability myself. This is such a rising trend in horror/sff/fantasy tv/movies/video games and I hate everything about it. Hayao Miyazaki was right this kind of attitude and shit really is "an insult to life itself"

Anyway fight scene cool

I love Keiko btw. Her crying and blaming herself! Her face when Yusuke comes back! Also Yusuke "I'm not gonna die just bc you talked shit" pffft jackass (affectionate)

DEMON CREW CAMEO AT THE END

Kurama looks pretty good. Goki actually looks wayyyy better than he did in the anime imho, which I did not see coming.

Effects on Kurama and Hiei's fighting looks surprisingly great. They pulled off the rose whip way better than I thought they would, and did some great wirework with Hiei's speed and fighting style

That said....Hiei...oof. That hair was always gonna be a Challenge but I think their ambition here did uh. not play off rip. Hopefully it'll look better later on

#yu yu hakusho #netflix yu yu hakusho #yu yu hakusho spoilers #can't believe I'm typing that in 2k23 #anyway this is fun #me #liveblogging

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chai-fi-rush · 10 months

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Hi-Fi Rush and Capitalism

I've seen multiple posts about how Hi-Fi Rush is capitalistic/neo-liberal propaganda and like. I'm not gonna say they're wrong but I'm also going to say it's a little more nuanced than that. Or at least there's multiple angles to look at this thing and I want to do that so I will.

Also I just want to quickly say that I think that even if something endorses certain aspects of capitalism while critiquing others doesn't mean that what it does critique is meaningless, or that everything that critiques capitalism should end with a radical change in it's story's system. Sometimes things that are sort of milquetoast can be fun or make some good points, albeit not rly something to strive to.

The first thing to address which is undeniably on the side of those posts I've seen is that HFR basically assumes that capitalism is the default. It tacitly accepts that the system must function through capital, and not just at the end where instead of getting rid of the company they just replace the CEO. This comes up the most in Zanzo's level when CNMN and Macaron say that budgeting and development are a balance. There's no implication that the idea of well-managed projects shouldn't have to rely on money to be able to function, just that Zanzo himself is bad with money due to unrealistic goals and Kale's light hand as long as he gets what he wants. Honestly, this is where a lot of real life people get tripped up on. They genuinely have a really hard time conceptualizing how a world without capital would function and often think of it as some lawless world. So, even when they disagree with capitalism they often try to think about how to change it without the removal of currency.

That being said, it's more accurate to describe Hi-Fi Rush's early stages not as a critique of capitalism, but as a critique of the conditions of capitalism (I know to us red-blooded commies those things are basically the same but hear me out). The only point where money is really important to the plot is in Zanzo's level and the overarching point of Kale using SPECTRA as a market manipulation tool. There are also undercurrents of class when it comes to Chai and Kale as foils, but that point is also linked with ableism (which is linked with classism under capitalism, but the game is very purposefully vague about Chai's backstory so I don't necessarily feel comfortable making too much speculation about it). The game vlog's heavily discuss the labor and physical exploitation of their employees, such as how all of the old Vandelay units such as CARR1E are being overloaded for the sake of productivity and you know. The fact that there are three or four Mondays. But the game rarely mentions the wages of the employees. I'm not going to say it never does even though I don't remember a time, but needless to say the actual working conditions of Vandelay's labor force is a much bigger focus. It does sort of come into play when Kale talks about how he's planning on firing almost everyone once SPECTRA gets up and running (something we are supposed to consider is Bad because without those jobs those people won't have money).

Breaking all this down abstractly, HFR is a story about corrupted intentions. The game's narrative exists in two different camps, the experience of what Vandelay is right now, and how everyone talk about what Vandelay was when Roxanne was in charge. Obviously, the first one is going to be more powerful. Characters like Peppermint, Macaron and Korsica can talk all day about how cool Roxanne was, but we basically have to take them at their word. There's no reason for us to consider them untrustworthy, but lets just say that as an audience member it's hard to fully reconcile the idea without actually seeing any of it in action besides Roxanne being kind of chill in the final cutscene and some vlogs about how the company used to work (particularly from O5KAR).

But what we can glean from this narrative is that Vandelay under Roxanne was not productivity driven. You get this idea from both the Zanzo and Roquefort levels, and a couple of those aforementioned vlogs. One that comes to mind is about how production used to take the time to actually fix defected products, but under Kale they all just get immediately scrapped because it's faster to just make a new one. Roxanne was someone who wanted to make things whereas Kale just wants to sell them. I mean, Roquefort is literally crushed underneath the quarter profits. HFR has a lot of metaphors, and they never really claimed that any of them were subtle.

Something that hangs over the entire story but rarely comes up (even within meta discussions about it) is that Project Armstrong was something born out of Roxanne's love for her disabled daughter. It's not just that she came up with the implant tech and then had Kale make the project as a scheme, Peppermint specifically says in Track 12 that it was Roxanne's idea. This was something that was made to genuinely help people, and Kale warped it into something that would get him more customers because it's not profitable to just "help people."

That's the story that HFR is trying to tell. It's about a project that was good, became bad through its management, and then had people who believed in the original intention of said project (I should note that Korsica's inclusion as someone who hadn't worked pre-Kale was also probably intentional so it wasn't solely a return to the old guard). The game isn't trying to say that any company can be fixed with the right leadership, that this one had its reigns taken away for the sake of profitability. A corruption of intentions. If you're willing to accept capital as the implicit base of society, it's incredibly inoffensive, but if you can conceptualize outside of that system it becomes a hand-wavey response to the problem. We all know that "just put good people in charge of capitalism" isn't actually a solution the the problem.

It's also worth mentioning that HFR bears a lot of meta-narrative about the video game industry specifically. The director said that some of the emails were literally taken from ones that he had received. It draws attention to its relationship in several ways, ESPECIALLY with the addition of Vandelay Gameworks. It's all stuff that can be applied to companies in general, but there's still that undercurrent of game devs upset about crunch time or being forced to throw out something that they worked hard on at the last minute because it "Just doesn't work." The kind of people who love what they're working on but work underneath conditions that make it feel like hell.

Anyways, hope that made sense. Hope I didn't sound too apologetic because I also take beef with endings that handwave capitalism away as an individual issue. Honestly, I think that HFR has far more interesting things to say about disability, but that's something that has to be its own post.

#hi fi rush #hi fi rush spoilers #hfr #meta

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