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#its like i can VISUALIZE and HEAR the music when authors do this!!! LOVE-LOVE-LOVE IT
horse-shit · 2 years
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I LOVE READING CHARACTERS DESCRIBE WHEN THEY PLAY MUSIC I LOVE IT SO MICH MORE BOOKS SHOULD HAVE THIS IMMEDIATELY!!!!!!!!!
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gerdy-sertorius · 2 months
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The Definitive Damsel Analysis (if I do say so myself)
(Disclaimer: I know it’s absurdly long, and for that I apologize. I apparently am more unwilling to make cuts than I am to present subpar work. I’m working on it. Only editing I do for my autistic ramblings is copyediting, baby! Whoo! I will be updating this for the Pristine Cut once it comes out and we get even *more* Damsel. Obviously, as I’m sure you can tell from the length, I really like Damsel. There will be all of the bias. It will be great.)
(Author’s Note: For the love of the most high God, it took me like twenty read throughs for me to standardize what I wanted to call the Scorched Grey. Here is a brief list of all the terms I used to refer to her: Scorched Grey, Burned Grey, Burning Grey, Fire Grey, Damsel Chapter 3. Sometimes but not always preceded by “the” or “The”.)
Alright, ladies and gentlemen. I have oft made the statement on here that Damsel is the best route in the game, and this began as me trying to definitively prove that, by microscopically going through the route, I could establish exactly why, it would seem, that Damsel has objective superiority. It sorta… evolved, though, so instead I will be going relatively chronologically throughout, and trying to point out a couple things that all of you know about and maybe a couple things you don’t about the best character in the game. With that preamble out of the way, let’s begin with the goofy stuff, the grab bag if you will. 
This will certainly be more personal taste than anything else, but I do think there’s a lot of miscellaneous stuff that Damsel does better than the other chapters. For example, I am convinced that it has the third best music, behind Tower and her routes and then Thorn. I am genuinely obsessed with “It Was Always That Easy”. The basement has some *fantastic* art, and I think that really carries a chapter that is otherwise generally bland when it comes to actual visual activity. It’s really carried by its genuinely perfect dialogue. 
Overall, and most importantly, this chapter is the undisputed master of the idea of positive ambience. You know elevator music? How it’s there to artificially increase the cheeriness of an otherwise dreary moment, like a hotel hallway or, yanno, an elevator? Well, this is the chapter that does it perfectly. Everything is designed to make it “nicer” than it actually is. The Narrator even takes that into account when describing the basement. The sound design is fresh and relaxing, the music is uplifting, the Princess’s voice is obviously fantastically done, but also the Voice of the Smitten plays a large role in making it feel “good”. It’s something that exists in order to communicate exactly the feelings it wants the player to feel, which is all warm and fuzzy inside. But let’s move on to the actual content, shall we?
Damsel has *the* best Chapter One and it isn’t even close. Certainly not in the horror department, where I think Beast and Nightmare shine, or even in the whole characterization bit, where the award can only go to Spectre and the masterclass that is her Chapter One. But Damsel has something else to it. Damsel has tragedy, almost Shakespearean in nature. Nobody else has it (except Witch, to some extent, but nowhere close to the same level), nobody manages to reach that connection, there and then broken, to honestly feel for both Princess and Slayer. Allow me to paint a picture of a playthrough. 
You are on a path in the woods. At the end of that path is a cabin. In the basement of that cabin is a princess. You are here to slay her. But you don’t do that. That voice itching in the back of your skull, the one you quite literally call Hero, your moral compass even, raises some objections. You don’t want to kill *anybody*. That isn’t something you want to mark yourself with, especially not solely on the word of an individual you just met. For now, violence is a nonstarter.
You enter the cabin. And you hear her voice. And you see her. You even talk with her for a while. The moment is… hypnotizing. Despite the Narrator’s warning of manipulation, well, you cannot help but be manipulated. This is a genuinely nice, sweet, scared Princess who simply wants to be free. You have to save her. It is the right thing to do, it is the… only thing to do. Anything else marks you with the dirtiness of simply being unwilling to help someone in need when you had the full ability to. 
You go to get a key. Unsuccessful. The door locks. Even worse. The Narrator is moving from irritating to downright malicious, clearly enjoying recounting the lock of the door. Disgust for Him has been present since you entered the cabin, but it shifts to anger very quickly. That shift continues with full force as you attempt with what little ability you have to save the Princess, even if you don’t quite know how you will get out. The question does not last long. For the shift to anger shifts once more, to a sort of incomprehensible fury.
For the Narrator has crossed a line. Not only has he taken away any semblance of choice, not only has he raised your own knife against an innocent, someone who has been nothing but kind to you, but you are the one who must bear the shame for it. You are the only one who is doing the foul deed in any eyes but your own. Speaking of, the Princess’s eyes are filled with genuine happiness at the moment, as you are finally giving her the freedom she has yearned for such a  long time. Yet through no fault of your own, you raise the pristine blade, the one you refused to bring down to the basement in the first place. You scramble through the list of options, attempting to find anything that could provide a sliver of hope in the situation, anything without the grim finality of “Slay the Princess”. 
At last, you find one, and are able to bark out a warning to the Princess. That happiness in her eyes is shifted to a look of fear, one directed at you alone, one condemning you with such a sorrowful betrayal that it almost hurts to see. She begs for you to stop, and then she says something that almost calms the internal storm of the player: “Please, I know this isn’t you.” She recognizes that it isn’t us that betrayed her, she understands that we aren’t trying to do this, that we are flat-out trying to stop it. But the eye of that storm is passing, and soon.
And as she takes the blade, as she prepares to do what she must to live, that same look of tragic betrayal crosses her eyes, this time not directed at us, but at herself. She hates that this is her only option, the only way that she can live is to kill another, one with every intention of freeing her and no intention of harming her. And in the end, she simultaneously underscores the tragedy of the moment while confirming our perception that she could never be a threat to the world. As she plunges the blade into our chest, she has failed to even do the bare minimum of making our death painless, something that fills her with even more guilt, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tries and fails to end our own agony. The last thing we see of her are her endless cascade of both tears and apologies, as everything goes dark. 
This… is beautiful. A glorious tragedy, one with limited theming, simply two characters with emotions that feel natural. And, quite strangely, the first chapter has almost nothing to do with the second chapter. But it is still important. I’ll get to that later. Better things await now! For with the end of the tale of the Hero and the Princess, we have a new individual, everyone’s favorite buddy, the Voice of the Smitten. 
I am certain I do not need to underscore just how popular Smitten is. Easily the most fan favorite of the fan favorites, especially solidifying his place within that roster with the Kiss from a Thorn. He is jovial, passionate, he is Don Quixote, complete with the unlimited self-delusion that comes with the territory. There’s a reason people love him. Romantic in a game entitled a love story, the largest of personalities in a game stuffed with them, he is the storybook hero come to life in a game that has just as much reverence for storybook heroes as the deconstructions of them. In short, he is the visage of likability itself, with all the bombast that comes with that. Yet that is only from a wholly external perspective. 
For what I am certain I do need to underscore is just how sinister Smitten is. For all of his likability, the Smitten is also probably the single slimiest voice out of all of them with the possible exception of the Opportunist. This is not a new revelation – people have understood that since the beginning with his frankly disturbing behavior regarding the Princess. What is perhaps more interesting is his relationship with the player. For he is one of the two options that reflect the player at this point within the story. Either the player is trying to do the right thing and free an innocent, or they have somewhat… different motivations. 
The former reflects the Hero. Somewhat naive, in many routes somewhat bumbling even, but first and foremost focused on the external. That is, “how can I make a positive impact on the world around me?” As contradictory as it may seem to how the Hero is presented, it’s something of an intellectualist approach. The Hero is trying to find the best possible world and working towards that with all of his might. It is, one could say, devoid of emotion except that determination to change the world, to make it a better place. While the goal remains the same, the path to get there is fundamentally continuously being calculated. The Hero is your conscience, and as such he must *always* work overtime for that. 
The Smitten is not that. No, he has made no secret that he is the path of passion. Even when he is generally considered to be a better person, he declares that, “Whatever world would condemn two star-crossed lovers to a cycle of violence and despair isn’t a world worth saving.” His focus is internal, it is on ourself and our romance. There is no extensive study into what is the correct option, there is only what would assist in our relationship, which is somehow ordained by the universe. To put it into understandable terms, Hero is a modern hero while Smitten is a Romantic-era hero. 
There’s an important line when going down the stairs that I think speaks volumes about the type of player and playthrough currently occurring. That is “We can still do right by her without all this over-the-top fawning.” *That* is the line of demarcation between the route of the Hero and the route of the Smitten. If you decide to embrace or repudiate the Smitten at that point, I think the route is sealed. I am convinced that the game will continue on in a fixed way based on that philosophy. The point where you must, internally that is, decide if you are doing this out of a desire for what is right, or an infatuation with the Princess. 
Now, of course there isn’t anything wrong with taking the path of the Smitten, and it’s personally one of my top points in the game, but whether you admit it or not, you are long past morality being what decides your actions. That has come and gone. Now, the goal is to express the passion of the moment and delve into your romantic relationship with the Princess. I’ll be evaluating each of the routes differently, loosely organized with a focus on how it reacts to the player. After that, I’ll go on into theming of each route one by one and all that jazz.
The path of the Smitten first. The player embraces that he has been sent to save the Princess from her unjust and foul imprisonment above all else. So that is what he does. He marches downstairs, the blade being nothing but a passing afterthought as it is immediately dismissed out of hand. When it comes to the crucial point of “doing right by her”, the justification is made that two things can be done at once, that you can do this for her and do a little bit of fawning on the way. Doesn’t harm anyone.
And with that the basement arrives, and you see the Princess on the floor. She is perfect in all ways. There is nothing wrong with her. And that’s before you start talking to her. When you do begin talking to her, all of the kindness and innocence from Chapter 1 are magnified to the greatest degree possible. She can do no wrong. And, from a meta standpoint, there’s another thing that stands out – it is really, *really* funny. From everything the Smitten says to the “Then I didn’t end the world!” to the Narrator’s (a villain at this point) growing exasperation at your trust for the Princess, it endears you to the moment even more. 
Because it’s not only that it’s funny. It’s not only that the Princess is genuinely nice to you. It’s something more than that. Something that I am loath to talk about but will anyway. The Princess is incredibly – *sigh* – **cute** within this chapter. This is objective, with science to back me up, I’m sure. But she is specifically designed to be as heartwarming as possible, and every line makes her more and more into someone who should be saved by you, into, well, a Damsel. While it isn’t explicitly stated, throughout the progression of dialogue, the need to protect her becomes more pronounced. You were already primed to like the Princess, you already internally committed to a romantic future. But after stepping into the bear trap willingly, you cannot escape. 
And if you’re anything like me, you are perfectly fine with that. So you take in the moment, you rescue her from her chains and laugh at the way her hands slipped out of the chains and the Narrator’s comical anger at it. It’s all very feel-good, all cleanly written dialogue, and both the Princess and the Smitten are likable, they’re fun, and the Narrator is a fun enough villain for the Smitten and you to unite against. The Hero, if we’re being honest, barely registers, and if he does it’s usually as an extension to the Narrator, as a foil to yourself. And with her finally free, she embraces you, sealing the deal on her perfection. 
And after that, something else happens. The deconstruction begins. You want to see if her dialogue has any more of that saccharine present throughout the rest of the chapter, and are immediately rewarded with the “The princess closes her eyes in deep reflection” and the follow up joke. Hungry for more, you click through some more of the dialogue, but something begins to happen. She begins to… unwind. The Smitten seems to reciprocate in turn, to a lesser extent. In fact, she really starts to return to the horror that this chapter was a nice respite from. So you cut your losses, decide to leave with her, and everything returns to normal. Bathed in the glow of your future, you immediately forget about the deconstruction.
After that, you finally get out of the basement, get a genuinely great moment opening the door alongside the Princess, never think twice about clicking “You’re not doing that.” as fast as humanly possible, and finally await the door at the end of the cabin. You finally get your fairytale ending. The princess goes out into the world together with you. You brought her out. And then she is taken by the Shifting Mound in a way reminiscent of her dying. Even if this wasn’t your first playthrough, it still comes as a shock. For the most part, you were being that Romantic hero, living in the moment with your passion. The thought of this happening was gone entirely. This wasn’t supposed to happen. And it *hurts*. And the chapter is over. 
The route of the Hero has a different point of view on the whole situation. That’s not to say it’s not easy to get drawn in by the hilarious dialogue and sheer cuteness of the Princess – far from it. It is, after all, what drives the conflict within this. For the Hero, and the player that goes along his path, has one bit of information stand out. That the world ended after the Princess killed you. Now, you can naturally be skeptical of the information, but the Princess isn’t helping her case here. Entirely vague, entirely unwilling to mention anything about it. The only thing she seems to care about is getting on your good side. 
Now, you still want to save her. That much is clear. You still don’t take the knife in the beginning, and you saw her Chapter 1 incarnation. She is still a good person, kind and loving. But there are questions raised, important questions. Which is why not all Hero routers get the same ending. There is a conflict between how far you’re able to go before the risk of the world ending eclipses your distrust of the Narrator and your trust of the Princess. If the whole world really does end if she’s free, is it worth it? And as such you get to the major points of the Hero ending. 
The first is the Deconstructed ending. As you question the Princess, you desperately try to figure out what the best way to go forward is for you. And that starts with getting a straight answer from the Princess on what exactly she plans on doing. The operation… does not go well. As you try and push for anything, any sign that she isn’t going to end the world, the same rejoinder comes in, alongside a distorted track. “I just want to make you happy.” The Princess is not an individual anymore, and begins to change shape. But you are locked in with a horrified inability to look away, like one who sees a car accident. And with that, the Princess is a Princess no longer, and the Shifting Mound takes her away. 
There’s also the option of taking the Hero’s advice when confronted with the scenario: to leave. You don’t like what’s going on and you try to do whatever you can to undo the doing. Perhaps surprisingly, it works. And then you’re forced to deal with the cognitive dissonance of the Princess and *that* being the same individual. But you, not without a healthy dose of skepticism, still head upstairs alongside the Princess. In the end, you can’t bring yourself to kill her. Throughout it all, she still has been the beautifully endearing picture of innocence, if a questionable one, and especially with regards to the knife on the table, there is no way you can take it to her chest with no warning, especially after everything you did in the first Chapter. So you leave with her, and the “end of the world” really does come in one fell swoop with the call of the Shifting Mound. You can’t help but wonder if the decision you made was the right one, not really. Like, you still believe she didn’t deserve to die, but maybe, just maybe, it would have been a better ending.
So what if you did kill her? What happens when love *truly* melts away into skepticism. After the continuous question dodging and whatever the… other thing was, this is clearly not an ordinary Princess, it is not the same Princess that you tried to save at the beginning. There is only a sliver of her, a shadow of her former self. Slaying her, well, slaying her is probably doing her a favor. It might be doing the world a favor, too. Maybe she is an individual with malicious intent. And as you take the blade and plunge it into her chest, you instantly know you made the wrong decision. She does not oppose it. She simply lets you kill her with a single tear hanging in her eye, saying “I think this is what you want.” It’s meant to feel dirty and it does, even heartbreaking in the moment, although it is immediately counterbalanced by the effect of the Smitten killing you over it.
I won’t exactly go over Scorched Grey the same way, I think there’s generally only two frames of mind going into it, and that’s either the standard “Hero-Skeptic” framework that I’ll expand on later, or simply a completionist mindset. Plus, it’s technically not The Damsel. Plus I’m lazy. But this is the point where I will try to expand on the theming of each and every route and mindset to go through within the Chapter, and that *will* include the Scorched Grey theming. 
It’s made quite clear from the chapter that one of the primary themes is objectification, the making of the Princess into nothing more than a vehicle to live one’s fantasy into. The taking of an individual and making them into an it. The destruction of humanity by your own desire, and what that says about your desires in the first place. Ironically, this is merely one fourth wall away from the rest of the Princesses, each of them being a piece of fiction that many simply engage with *because* they are an object, but with the Damsel it is directly nodded to within the narrative. One meta-layer is peeled back, if you will. 
Nothing hammers this more home than the entirely jarring line that escapes the Shifting Mound’s lips when you ask about the vessel she holds. Unlike the rest of the fragments, which are all given an indication that they have been fulfilled after the Shifting Mound takes them, the only note she has to say is that the Damsel has “served her purpose”. There is nothing that she wished for, as anyone who has obtained the deconstructed ending can attest to. But even in the more standard runs, she is simply a tool to be used and discarded. And there are three general reactions to this line. 
The first is the hardcore Smitten route’s preferred choice, denial. “The Princess was far more than an object, she had character, she had kindness, she had motivations from the beginning! The narrative is what is wrong, there’s nothing wrong with the Princess. She. Is. Perfect. Not just from a narrative standpoint but a metanarrative one as well. She has depth, she *is* a character.” All in the hopes that if they insist on it enough, it will become true. The Damsel was not designed to be viewed in a vacuum. There are themes that run through her character, and including negative ones, and the denial of them is a far truer denial of the character than any sort of objectification could ever be. 
Then the more moderate Smitten routers get a different response. A slap in the face. They did all of this, they had fun, they laughed with her, they cried when she was taken. They were connected to her, they had a real connection to what she was. One could even accuse them of… loving her. They honest to goodness cared about this Princess, they were invested in her story. Yet, in the end, they also formed her around themselves. They “molded her to love you”. As much as they loved the Princess, that was only because they cut out a piece of the Shifting Mound that they *could* love, a caricature of her true nature. They still took an individual, and despite truly loving her, made her into something that she was not so they could do that very thing. She is not a person. She is a plot device, an individual made to love and be loved with nothing beyond that. She is an object. 
Lastly, those who went on the route of the Hero get that same slap in the face, that selfsame bucket of water poured over their heads, but in a different way. They didn’t try to objectify her. They didn’t want anything of the sort. All they wanted to do was the right thing. Right? Yet even in that desire to do the right thing, they still get that same chilling text from the Shifting Mound. They have built an individual just like those who went on the route of the Smitten. Just a different one. Not one who was built around your “glorious romance”, but rather one built around something of a glorious Romance. The need to be a Hero. The desire to do what was right, to save an unjustly imprisoned Princess. The Princess became a plot device in the end anyway, just one that needed to be saved rather than one who needed to be loved. 
I want to continue off of that. The player is trying to do nothing more than the right thing, he is simply doing what a Hero should. And that determination to do what is right leads to him getting impacted the most by that line in the ending, the line that implies that whatever right he was doing, he was still being driven by selfishness, by that need to be a Hero. That hits the player right within where it hurts, it almost could be said to strike at the one emotional vulnerability of them. To have your hard work, your pain, your desire for what is right to be considered nothing more than the delusions of a Don Quixote tilting at windmills in order to fight giants, just as lost as Smitten, that doesn’t feel too great. It almost minimizes your struggle, and it is genius. You play as a Hero because you want to feel like a Hero, not because the morality of this world means anything to you. It is stripping that meta-layer down one by one.
But objectification is not the only theme present. While it may seem like something of a potpourri topic to throw in, earlier on the server we were talking about the Damsel in particular’s perceptiveness with regards to perception. When the door shuts and locks, it is the first and only time the Princess gets visibly **negative** in any way during the entirety of the Chapter. Even when you kill her, she still does so with nary a frown on her face. Even as a tear rolls down her cheek, she still smiles. But not at the door. The narration points out quite clearly that she frowns. This is, I reiterate, the only thing that happens. And her response is not “we’re stuck down here”, it is not “I’m unable to leave now”. 
What it is happens to be “that’s not supposed to happen”. She recognizes the construct in a way very few allude to within the game. Adding onto that note, within the Scorched Grey chapter, she (correctly) determines the very nature of the construct and that inherent “cycle of violence and despair” inherent to it, even (correctly) determining that the only way to leave was to annihilate that very construct. This is shown even clearer at the other major event at the door. When you ask if the Princess can open the door, the sole question she throws back at you is “Do you think I can?”, and after a response in the affirmative, “Then I can”. In the end, it is quite clear that she is, *heavily* ironically, one of the more aware characters in the game with regards to your circumstance. 
While speaking of the Scorched Grey, I think this route also exemplifies another major theme – the nature of the Princess as a being of perception. All routes exemplify one facet of the Shifting Mound: Spectre represents the gravity of her, Tower her divinity, Prisoner the very incarnation in and of itself of her within the construct, and so on. Damsel has something different, though, and that is that she’s just a slippery little fella. Far more than anybody else, Damsel changes throughout her chapters, in ways more pronounced than anybody else. The Shifting Mound declares that we “molded her to love you”, as I quoted previously. That molding takes stage front and center throughout all of our interactions with her. 
The most obvious example is her deconstruction, which when her sole true motivation (to leave) is discarded, she begins to break down, unable to offer to the player anything beyond the only desire every other Princess has. With the compulsive need to love the player, etched into her core, there is nothing she can do other than try to add to that love, losing herself within the process. But that is not the only time she changes. Because she is willing to give up that freedom in, well, a heartbeat. Attempting to kill her does not lead to any sort of resistance from her. The one goal she had, staying alive and winning her freedom, is out the window despite being (questionably) willing to kill for it in the last chapter. Now, throughout the Scorched Grey, it’s made clear that she did not, in fact, want to die, that she just wanted to be free together, but the complete unwillingness to save her own life is a stark contrast to the first chapter. 
In fact, that perpetually changing nature alongside her being so objectified means that it’s really, *really* hard to figure out her true character. There is very little in her that does not change and very little remaining that isn’t specifically put there by you. She is an eel, wriggling out of your grasp and impossible to pin down, in a large way like the Shifting Mound herself. But… for the most part, there are two facets to her character beyond the already listed themes. And a sharp divide between them. 
Chapter One Damsel and Chapter Two Damsel are not the same person. That’s usually true for most of them, but they also usually have some semblance of similarity between their counterparts. The only exceptions I can think off the top of my head are Spectre and *maaybe* Stranger if you want to count that. The rest of them act as exaggerated versions of the existing individuals shown. Chapter One Adversary likes fights. Chapter Two Adversary likes fights. Chapter One Witch is built on the back of distrust. Chapter Two Witch is built on the back of distrust. Everything lines up nicely. 
That is not the case for the Damsel. The only thing that you can say with both of them is that they are nice and do not want to hurt you. The Chapter One incarnation (henceforth Princess) is a tragedy of a character that doesn’t want to kill you but still must to secure her own life and freedom against a renegade puppeting you. The Chapter Two incarnation (henceforth Damsel) is a Horror-”Feel-Good”-Comedic-Tragic character that shows nothing about the emotional anguish she went through in chapter one. I love both of them, but they have an unmatched disconnect. And I think that sort of adds to the character. Now, there is absolutely a benefit from an emotional through-line (there’s a reason Thorn is my second-favorite chapter), but in this case, only brief touches to the beginning enhance the story. 
The most striking thing is the sense of comedic horror that comes when Damsel just completely ignores any expected trauma from the Princess’s emotional destruction. It, depending on the route you take, either makes you love her character more and more as the humor begins to entrap you, or it begins the process of getting the player unnerved, exactly like the developers wanted. It is a key dividing point in the mindset of the player and the route that they have chosen. The Damsel says nothing about what happened, heck, she barely acknowledges it except to indicate that “You died!” 
Secondly, it sets up Damsel as a sympathetic figure while still allowing her to begin establishing herself. Without the setup from the Princess, the player has no idea how to view Damsel, potentially even seeing her as a less on-the-nose Razor, with her comedically hiding her sinister intentions. The Princess allows the player to begin on a note that the Princess is *actually* friendly rather than simply pretending to be so. At the same time, it’s divorced enough that apart from that frame of reference at the beginning, Damsel is still allowed to shine within her own character. 
Lastly, and most importantly, it sets her up for the Scorched Grey. The guilt at causing the death of an innocent and the belief that you would be unable to cause the death of an innocent yourself leads her to blame the construct and attempt to bring it down, which seals your fate in the third Damsel chapter, the only time where the two chapters meet in a beautiful climax of Passion going too far and causing pain, in attempt of running away from that very thing, morphing into something that not even the Smitten is able to remain devoted to in an awful tragedy of love being not enough in the end. 
Wait, wait, wait. Did I hear “the end” being spoken? At this time of year? Localized entirely within this essay? Well then, it’s time to talk about what puts this saga at pure perfection, shall we? I probably could just use the awesome power of Ctrl + V to get the desired effect, but I still do want to offer my narration, so I’ll compromise and do a bit of both. “Your lover drives a stake into your body. And another. And another. And another. And another. Do I miss your heart because I cannot stand to see it go? But the stakes meant nothing to you. You had a desire, and you set that desire free, you lifting me and me lifting you, forever and ever and ever, consumed by true belief, there was nothing that could hold us back.” 
Do I even need to explain why that’s so good? Definitively the best poem in the end, it isn’t even close, especially when coupled with Ms. Goodnight’s awe-inspiring delivery. Did I say that the Scorched Grey was the perfect synthesis of the Princess and the Damsel? I was lying. This is. Every word so lovingly placed, the language sounds like it comes from the pen of God Himself. It is emotionally resonant, the art is beautiful, I have not run into such a short piece of dialogue that outdoes it. Gonna be honest, mostly just wrote up this essay to gush about it. Even now, it is considered by most everyone to be one of the best lines of dialogue in a game filled with magnificent ones. 
And the other one, that of the Scorched Grey. It’s simpler, ironically. “I kill you. You kill me. Back and forth we go, faster and faster and faster. I kill you. You kill me. Hollow eyes watch from the dry corners of a memory. A home built on all of the futures that were supposed to be, preserved until the moment of reunion. The fire of the heart sets it all ablaze. I kill you and me.”
This, this right here is one of the most slept on ending poems and it’s not even funny. So fantastic at expressing the heartbreak inherent to the Scorched Grey’s character. I don’t know how you can see the line “A home built on all the futures that were supposed to be”, especially with the Scorched Grey dead and charring in a wedding gown, and not feel *something*. It’s not as good as the standard Damsel stuff, but then again, nothing is. It’s still deserving of more praise than it currently receives, and one of my top three ending poems of all time, only edged out by Prisoner. Gosh, this game belongs in a museum. 
Seems I need to debunk some stuff that happens to get a lot of traction regarding those who speculate on Damsel, too. First of all, her character motivation is not guilt nor gratitude. That sort of thing works incredibly well in fanworks, and I’m happy to see it ~~because that means I get to see Damsel in a fanwork~~. It has little to no backing within canon. Damsel is a chapter about the only motivations for the Princess being those put in place by the objectification of the player. There is nothing regarding anything beyond that, and it detracts from the existing, well-elucidated themes that are actually within the chapter. The only sort of substance to them is both Chapter 1 Princess and Scorched Grey indicating guilt for killing you, but that is almost entirely repudiated within the actual Chapter 2. 
Speaking of the Scorched Grey, another thing I saw somewhat extensively is that you somehow “taught her” that killing is the way to love one another, and that’s why she kills you in Chapter 3, and I honestly do not know how that gained any traction at all. It’s pretty clear that she views all the death as a pretty terrible and messed up thing and only kills the two of you to escape the cycle of death. It’s spoken of as a means to an end, not an end in and of itself. I am genuinely confused on how this got started, because it really just… opposes the main *in-narrative* themes of the Chapter??? Like, you don’t even have to analyze it, it’s just within the text, plain and simple. 
Anyway, I deeply apologize for the length of this once again, look forward to an appendix when Pristine Cut comes out. I’ve already played it because my uncle works at Black Tabby, but I don’t want to spoil it for you gents. If my opinions change massively after playing through the new update from today, I will change that too. Anyway, Damsel is the best character, literally does not do a single thing wrong within any of her chapters, has definitively the best Shifty stuff, and you should invest in her. As more people vocally become willing to throw money at anything related to Damsel, the likelier it is that we get Damsel merch. I need it so badly. Please. Anyway, if anything stands out to you or you disagree, I am begging you to tell me to get my act together and explain what I said wrong, so do that. Also please. 
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reanimatedheart · 1 month
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Hello! Welcome to the official Reanimated Heart Tumblr.
(This Pinned is Under Construction. Still figuring out the tags...)
Reanimated Heart is a character-driven horror romance visual novel about finding love in a mysterious small town. There are three love interests with their own unique personalities and storylines. Play the demo on Itch now!
Content Warning: Reanimated Heart is an 18+ game! It contains dark subject matter such as violence and sexual content. Player discretion is advised.
This blog is ran by Jack, the creator.
Itch | Link Tree | Patreon | Twitter
Guidelines
My policy for fanwork is that anything goes in fiction, but respect my authority and copyright outside it. This means normal fan activity like taking screencaps, posting playthroughs, and making fanart/fanfiction is completely allowed, but selling this game or its assets isn't allowed (selling fanwork of it is fine, though).
Do not use Reanimated Heart for illegal or hateful content.
Also, I expect everyone to respect the Content Warnings on the page. I'm old and do not tolerate fandom wank.
F.A.Q.
Who are the main Love Interests?
Read their character profiles here!!
Who's the team?
Jack (creator, writer, artist), mostly. I closely work with Exodus (main programmer) and Claira (music composer). My husband edits the drafts, and my friend Bonny makes art assets. I've also gotten help from outsiders like Sleepy (prologue music + vfx) and my friend Gumjamin (main menu heart animation).
For VOs, Alex Ross voices Crux, Devin McLaughlin voices Vincenzo, Christian Cruz voices Black, Maganda Marie voices Grete, and Zoe D. Lee voices Missy.
Basically, it's mostly just me & outsourcing stuff to my friends and professionals.
How can I support Reanimated Heart?
You can pay for the game, or join our monthly Patreon! If you don't have any money, just giving it a nice rating and recommending it to a friend is already good enough. :)
Where do the funds go to?
100% gets poured back into the game. More voice acting, more music, more trailers, more art, etc. I also like to give my programmer a monthly tip for helping me.
This game is really my insane passion project, and I want to make it better with community support.
I live in the Philippines and the purchasing power of php is not high, especially since many of the people I outsource to prefer USD. (One time I spent P10k of my own money in one month just to get things.) I'll probably still do that, even if no money comes in, until I'm in danger of getting kicked out the street… but maybe even then? (jk)
What platforms will it be released in?
Itch and then Steam when it's fully finished. Still looking into other options, as I hear both are getting bad.
Will the game be free?
Chapter 1 will be free. The rest will be updated on Patreon exclusively until full release.
Are you doing a mobile version?
Yeah. Just Android for now, but it's in the works.
Where can I listen to the OST?
It is currently up on YouTube, Spotify, and Bandcamp!
Why didn't you answer my ask?
A number of things! Two big ones that keep coming up are Spoilers (as in, you asked something that will be put in an update) or it's already been asked. If you're really dying to know, check the character tags or the meta commentary. You might find what you're looking for there. :)
Tag List for Navigation
Just click the tags to get to where you wanna go!
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lenentinecards · 11 months
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The Industrial Drone of UrbanSpook
Author: Florian Dama Dama
DISCLAIMER: This was written before we knew the creator was a creep and a right wing asshole. Do not take any of this as endorsement of him as a person.
Extremely impromptu, off-the-cuff filler... Thing while waiting for Rutena to finish the Prince Rama write up (It's GETTING TO IT we promise)
This is a review of the soundtrack, or what's available of it at the time of writing, of the webseries UrbanSpook, I will not be covering the writing, themes, or imagery of the series, only my impressions of the music on its own, though I will disclose that my perception of the music might be colored by having watched the series.
If you decide to look at the series because of this review of the music be warned that there is drawn extreme gore, body horror, child death, along with heavily implied CSA (but not shown on screen), and likely some other common triggers I've missed within the series. The music is free of that however.
UrbanSpook is an analog horror series I personally consider schlocky and mostly shock value, though I have a strong fondness for it for both the music and the visual art, though the visual component is not relevant here. The menacing industrial drones build mood beautifully, if there is one thing to love the series for it's this. The creator, Urban Slug, has a SoundCloud, and his music can be found here. I will be using the titles used on there rather than the video titles for sake of clarity.
b e n e a t h: More of a standard menacing drone track, reminiscent of a siren perhaps, it's solid but not exceptional compared to its bretheren, it's hard to say much about it. Suits being paired with the introductory video for that though.
b r e a t h: This one LURKS, more atmospheric, it looms, it stares at you but it dodges out of your view when you try to look at it, you only ever see it in fragments. The place you're in would almost be serene if not for what is watching, what you hear growl and breath just out of sight
w a l l s: Very much evokes the feeling of something in the walls or perhaps the vents, another track thst makes you feel WATCHED. There is no chance of actually sighting what sees you until it has you here though. All you can do is listen and anticipate its attack.
p i p e s: This one is more akin to a witnessed aftermath than an impending attack, this track drips with blood, it shows you meat barely recognizable as having been human. It ends like a revelation you're on the trail of what hunted and watched you in the previous two tracks.
p I g s: Another bloody aftermath. More aggressive than drone-like, more noisy, more harsh than its brothers. You found the aftermath sooner after the attack than the one of previous track, everything is fresh, animals scream, something like a human screams (a companion? Who have you been following this with?), the animals are frenzied, you are frenzied, the scent of blood is fresh and maddening, you have learned something horrible. Maybe you've always known.
w h a l e: We return to drones, this one almost funerary, reminiscent of the hurdy-gurdy. It is both a funeral and a hunt. It smells like cloying lilies and incense smoke here. Someone is here who shouldn't be. Are we hunting them? Do they hunt us? There is clarity, you know something, but it escapes you before you can parse it.
Parting thoughts: The music certainly enhances the story and visuals of videos they were made to be paired with, but I feel like the music almost has its own parallel story to tell, not dissimilar, but perhaps with a more animalistic predator. It's very evocative, easily carrying me to a place, an event. It's solid horror music overall and I'm excited to see how the music evolves as the series continues. If the music continues to be solid as the series continues maybe I'll write another post on it at a later date.
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friend-of-giants · 1 year
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Summer reading/writing/arting tag
Tagged by @mareenavee @paraparadigm and @changelingsandothernonsense! Thank you and sorry it took an entire lifetime to get to this lol
Tagging @elfinismsarts @thelavenderelf @the-sunlit-earth @katastronoot @duo-kun to participate but no pressure!
1) Describe one creative WIP project you’re planning to work on over the summer.
Aside from the obvious continuing to work on my fic, I hope, HOPE to make a piece of cover art for Ascent from the Ashes.  I don’t know much about creating cover art, though, so if anyone has any advice I am open to hear it!
2) Rec a book!
Am I basic if I go with a Stephen King novel?  The last book I read of his was Misery, and when I tell you my palms were sweaty (mom’s spaghetti) and that I was actually scooting to the edge of my seat during the climax, I am NOT kidding.  This book was gripping and terrifying in all the right ways, and while it’s an older novel, I highly recommend it for horror enthusiasts.  I personally enjoy all of his works that I’ve read, there are many that I haven’t gotten to, and I would say he’s my favorite author and I hope someday my writing can be as vivid and horrifying as his.  (Side note, i HATE horror movies, but I loooooove horror writing.  Love it.  Give it all to me)
3) Rec a fic! 
Ooh, and it has to be outside my character tag?  Can it still be in the fandom?  If so, Between The Ashes and Fire by the bestie @elfinismsarts.  I’m kind of particular about what kinds of fic and writing styles I like to read, and after just reading the first chapter of the first installment, Blood of the Dragon, I was hooked and read the fic in its 69 chapter entirety.  I have never once read a multichapter fic from beginning to end until this one, and its sequel Blood of the Wolf is just as good!  Please please go check it out!  Her characterization of the Companions is second to none, and her OCs, Firien and Tahir, are incredibly fleshed out and are a true example of Grumpy and Sunshine.  Absolute delights.  I love them both ❤️
4) Rec music!
I don’t normally listen to anything while I write or draw, yeah I know, that’s weird.  But on the few occasions I do, I actually prefer to listen to instrumental pieces that fit the tone of what I’m writing.  The Fiechter Brothers have an extensive library of worldbuilding-type music that is perfect to pop on to do some writing, especially their fantasy albums.  They're on both Youtube and Spotify. I’m also a big fan of ambience videos by various artists on Youtube, so for example if I’m writing something taking place outdoors at night I might pop on a video of a crackling fire and crickets, birds etc.  I’m an extremely visual writer and reader, basically seeing everything I am writing in my head like a film as I go, so hearing such things in the background really help me get in the right mindset.  
5) Share one piece of advice!
Let me keep this short and sweet.  Create for YOURSELF.  Don’t create for likes and attention, it will only serve to disappoint.  If you’ve got an idea in your head, fuckin do it, and don’t dwell on the stats… says the person who is fighting with this mindset on a regular basis 🙃
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adamwatchesmovies · 9 months
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Bumblebee (2018)
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Calling Bumblebee the best of the live-action Transformers movies is faint praise. Even if you consider the 2007 film's action sequences and special effects/character designs, the bar wasn’t high. It's a shame. This is what a movie translation of the series should’ve been from the beginning. It focuses on just a few characters (including a charismatic lead) and builds their relationship using methods that have worked before but are no less effective.
On the robotic planet Cybertron, the Autobot rebels are on the verge of defeat at the hands of the cruel Decepticons. Young Autobot scout B-127 lands on Earth to establish a new base, only to be ambushed and critically injured. Disguising himself as a 1967 Volkswagen Beetle, the amnesiac "Bumblebee" is discovered and repaired by Charlie Watson (Hailee Steinfeld), an 18-year-old music lover and car enthusiast.
The obvious comparison is to both E.T. the Extra-terrestrial and The Iron Giant. A lonely child befriends an alien who must be kept hidden from the authorities. Shenanigans ensue when it’s left unsupervised because it acts more like a child than a member of an advanced species. There are a few times when entire scenes in Bumblebee feel like they’ve been copied and pasted from those other stories with only the names swapped out. This means the best it can get is a bronze medal while Spielberg and Brad Byrd’s movies duke it out for a combined gold. That’s ok. This movie is miles ahead of the next contestant and the Autobots/Decepticons bring some new ingredients to the mix.
It’s a prequel, which means the plot’s set in the ‘80s. Rather than feeling like a cheap bid to exploit nostalgia, it really works here. The Transformers is an ‘80s franchise and setting things in the past allows us to get back to its roots in multiple ways. Aside from Bumblebee and the Autobot leader, Optimus Prime (voiced by Peter Cullen), all the characters are new. We’re not trying to tie up the innumerable loose ends created by the "previous" movies. We’re just telling one effective story centered around friendship and personal growth. The big threats are Bumblebee being discovered by U.S. Army Colonel Jack Burns (John Cena, a great choice for this role) and a pair of villainous Decepticons (voiced by Angela Bassett and Justin Theroux). Charlie’s summer job at the carnival - though crappy - also makes you recall simpler times. Gone are the bathroom jokes, the dubious roles for women and visual minorities and the cacophony of shredded metal while entire cities are laid to ruin.
Then there’s the music. Throughout, we hear great tunes - and not simply the usual “best ofs”. This soundtrack feels like it belongs to Charlie. They help flesh out her character and her relationship with the alien robot. It helps that Hailee Steinfeld is a gem. You just want to walk up to her and give her a big hug, particularly when she’s lamenting the death of her father (a subplot that’s nicely handled by the director and the actress alike).
The action scenes we do get are clearly shot and remain tense because we care about the characters. You want Charlie to survive. You also want her to overcome her grief, make friends, maybe even fall in love with her shy neighbor, Memo (Jorge Lendeborg). You like Bumblebee because the amnesic robot is funny and because he's kind of cuddly in a "child-like giant metal man that can inexplicably understand English" sort of way. Yes, the bulk of the times we saw the yellow 'bot he was in some bad stories but you still have a bond with him, one not unlike Charlie’s.
Upon initial release, Bumblebee was merely billed as a prequel to the franchise. I say ditch those other stories and keep going with this route. While it may be slightly derivative of other projects and the mechanical villains could’ve been developed further, this is solid ground on which you could start a franchise… for real this time. (On Blu-ray, September 18, 2020)
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ryqoshay · 2 years
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Putting on Hairs - Post Production: Blind Classics
Primary Pairing: ShikiMei Rating: G Words: 563 AU: Theater, Monsters, Cryptids Fandom: Love Live Superstar Parent Fic: Putting on Hairs - Post Production Time Frame: Sometime before the main story Event: Promptober 2022 Event Source: Idol Fanfic Heaven channel on Discord Prompt: Classical
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Author’s Note: Bonus 2nd Entry for Oct 26th
Summary: Mei plays a private concert for Shiki
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Mei ran her fingers across the keys. Oh, how she loved the fell of a real piano.
Nothing against the keyboard she had at home. That’s all that would fit in the apartment and she would always be thankful for her parents’ unwavering support of her interests and gifting her it.
But Yamaha had done well with its Ivorite replacement for ivory and it lent a very different feel than the regular plastic keys of her device at home. And that was just the surface. Real pianos had the weight of the levers and inner mechanics that could be felt when pressed. It was so much better than keyboards that worked more like laptops with membranes or rubber domes or whatever Shiki had explained for closing circuits or whatever.
And of course there was the smell. Mei had always preferred the smell of wood over plastic. Even if the exterior was treated with lacquer, the interior still smelled more… natural.
“Any requests?” Mei asked.
She could hear her single audience member consider carefully.
“Toccata in E Minor.” Shiki said after a minute or so.
Ah. Classical. Excellent.
Although not one of the more… popular? was it fair to say anything of Bach’s was unpopular? Perhaps just not as well known? Except of course by Classical enthusiasts, of which Mei considered herself.
She had always loved music, as it was a primarily audible experience, and desired to make it herself at a very young age. The piano lent itself well to this desire. No special embouchure needed to be learned like so many wind instruments. No special arm angles or pressure or holding techniques or the like for so many stringed instruments. Even a blind child could press a key and make sound.
She had eventually learned many other instruments over the years, and their special requirements to play them. But the piano held a special place in her heart.
And classical music as well. Even before her parents found braille sheet music, she was teaching herself how to play simply by listening, finding the keys that produced the matching tone, and remembering where they were. And so many classical works were written specifically for the piano or had piano adaptations. So, she had listened. And mimicked. And even started creating her own.
Her love for music was even part of what helped get her hooked on live theater, by way of musicals. But that was a different obsession for another time. Right now, it was time for classical music. It was time for… Wait.
“Shiki…”
“Yes, Mei.”
“Did you request Bach because he was blind?”
“I requested a piece I have not heard in a while.”
Mei searched her friend’s tone for notes of teasing, but only found sincerity.
“Would you prefer I request a piece from Händel?”
Well, there it was. That was the teasing Mei was expecting.
“Warne?”
“He wrote mainly for the organ.” Mei pointed out. “Wait, are you just Googling blind composers?”
“Perhaps.”
Mei felt foolish for half a second, having forgotten that she wouldn’t necessarily hear Shiki tapping at a keyboard or screen, as the mad scientist could instead use the sensors in the devices she wore to type in midair.
Mei huffed. “What do you actually want me to play.”
“Toccata in E Minor.”
“Truly?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
With that, Mei positioned her fingers, and began to play.
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Author’s Note Continued: Still having fun seeing how well I can set a scene without visual cues.
I’d’ve liked to get in a story for NicoMaki and YuuAyuSetsu, to include all of my favorite LL pianists in with the Classical prompt, but I ran out of time. Que zura zura. Not like I can’t write such stories outside of the event.
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northern-passage · 3 years
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I don't want to rehash old news, but I need to say this and others need to hear it. I am so tired of people demanding IFs to be more of the same! This and that choices, this and that characters. It is INTERACTIVE FICTION. nowhere does it say that every game is a self-insert (which is an issue on its own). if you're playing a predetermined person who you can guide... It is STILL interactive fiction!! Driving me crazy. and to end it nicely; One of the best IFs ever! Love love love
yeahhh no i totally agree. no shade towards cog here but they have a very basic formula pretty much every one of their very popular games follow and bc cog sort of has this...iron grip on the IF genre due to being so mainstream, like on the app store and on steam, people think this is like.... the end all be all of interactive fiction and people compare Everything to the same three games over and over again.
and it’s not the end all be all at ALL there is SO much more interactive fiction out there. i actually got into IF on itch.io, and in the beginning i only read visual novels because i’m a child and love looking at pretty pictures. i do think the fact that i found IF this way and not through cog has been what’s influenced my style and the way i approach IF. i didn’t start reading cog until last summer, and honestly i prefer most of the wips i’ve read over actual published content. that’s what pushed me to write my own. and it sucks that cog won’t share choicescript bc it’s SUCH a good starting coding language, it’s so accessible and easy to learn. 
and i’ve said before i’m just not interested in writing a flat, blank slate character. that’s SO boring for me as a writer and i also don’t like it as a reader.
i think seeing how your decisions change a character is so much more interesting than just having a generic, over-powered, essentially faceless character. now, i DO know why people enjoy that - we all love a good self-insert from time to time - but i really wish readers would break out of this mold cog has made.
itch.io can be a little overwhelming at first, but honestly it has a really nice tag and filter system (which is critical bc itch.io DOES have a lot of nsfw, though i’ve never had any issue w the safe filter on) to find stuff you like. also, if there’s an author you follow who has work on itch.io chances are they have favorites themselves listed on their profile, or will give out recs if you ask. in fact, i’ll list some of my recs right now:
we know the devil - one of the first VNs i bought and read. if you enjoy this one, def check out pillowfight’s other work
lookouts - one of my favorite short pieces.
lake of voices - a lot of people are familiar with Our Life, by GBpatch, but i absolutely love lake of voices. voiced characters, a little bit of angsty romance, death, and horror...mwah
love is strange - a CLASSIC. i played this before i even played life is strange. so imo you don’t even need to be that familiar with the original game it’s based on.
ebon light - i watched this game come to life while i followed the author’s process and saw how much love and time was put into it and i just can’t not recommend it. a dark fantasy game w romance and politics
a mortician’s tale - very different. a game about death. i’m a big fan of the order of the good death, and i actually got this game for free at some point, but it made me feel. emotions.
contrition - this one is so good. put on head phones, turn out the lights. great use of sound and music and just really good atmosphere.
cowgirl boots - love love love this one. more of a narrative than IF but it’s short and you should read it anyways. makes me feel warm and fuzzy.
is it that deep, bro? - another one that stuck with me for a while.
what girls do in the dark - this one takes me back to the old school text adventure games, but with a twist. found this one through john wolfe’s HQ residential house game jam and really enjoyed it.
the shadows that run alongside our car - another short conversational story. stuck with me for a while after i played it.
a tale of crowns - a chapter by chapter tale where you are the long awaited crown. really enjoy this one, very refreshing to read fantasy written like this. love the setting and the characters
crosshollow - multiple games, sort of like an anthology, all sharing the same setting. surreal and emotional
heartforge - some of you may already be familiar with heartforge, having started in choicescript then moved to twine. multiple games, all very different, all very good
the eight years revolution - full transparency, i’m friends with this author and we talk frequently. set over a span of eight years, you are starting out as a sheltered and naive royal, a young monarch running from a rebellion...
wayfarer - a fantasy game where you play as a wayfarer, with lots of customization options and a very interesting story
love & friendship - another author i am friends with and talk with often. love the humor in this game and the take on the regency genre.
scout - one of my all time favorites. set in an apocalyptic future, you are a scout from a small community, frequently running missions for supplies and information..
there’s this girl - whew. a short one, but emotional. this creator has quite a few works on itch.io, though some of them tend to lean towards the heavy, emotional side. recommend though if that’s something you’re looking for.
emily is away - again, one of the first IF games i played. it’s been years but it’s one that stuck with me. i think it’s worth mentioning simply to show what IF games can be like
birdland - genuinely think this is the first IF game i ever played. i have a soft spot for it because of that, as well as the story itself, which meant a lot to me when i first read it.
whew! i am certain i am forgetting some games and will curse myself later, but this is getting to be a bit long. i really encourage yall to just click around on itch.io in the interactive fiction/visual novel tag and see if you can find something you like. there is SO much out there...
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sharkselfies · 3 years
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The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast Transcript - Episode 1
Since some folks requested it on Twitter, I’ve started transcribing The Minds Behind The Terror podcast episodes! Below the cut you’ll find episode 1, where showrunners Dave Kajganich and Soo Hugh talk to Dan Simmons, the author of the novel The Terror, about episodes 1-3 of the show. They discuss Simmons’s initial inspiration for writing the book, the decisions they made to adapt it into a television series, and the depictions of some of the characters such as the Tuunbaq, Hickey, and “Lady Silence.”
The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast - Episode 1 
[The Terror opening theme music plays]
Dave Kajganich: Hello! Welcome to Minds Behind The Terror podcast. I’m Dave Kajganich, I am a creator and one of the showrunners of the AMC show The Terror, and I’m here in the studio with executive producer and co-showrunner Soo Hugh.
Soo Hugh: Hello!
DK: And we welcome today the author of the sublime novel The Terror, on which our show is based, author Dan Simmons, calling in from Colorado. Welcome, Dan! Hi! 
Dan Simmons: Hi Dave, thank you. 
DK: So let’s start with the very beginning. This was a mystery from actual naval history that you decided to transform into a novel that was crossed with Gothic horror. Can you tell us a little bit about where you got the idea from this, how you went about preparing to write it, anything that can give us insight into how you blended all of these remarkable genres into this incredible book.
DS: I’ve known since I was a kid that I wanted to tell a story about either the North or South Pole. And the reason is in 1957, 58, when I was very young, actually I was just a fetus, they had the international geophysical year, and that really caught my imagination. Now the international geophysical year saw cooperation between American and Soviet scientists, it was the height of the Cold War, that’s the first time they submit(?) a permanent base at the South Pole, and I fell in love with Arctic stories. I had one book left on a book contract with a publisher I really liked, and we hadn’t decided what that book was, and I wanted to write a scary story about the Arctic, in this case the Northern Arctic, and that happened because I was doing a lot of research on Antarctica and just couldn’t figure out what the macabre, Gothic, scary part would be. I wanted to put it in, but I didn’t think they’d go for, you know, an eight foot tall vampire penguin. 
[laughter]
DK: You might be surprised! 
DS: There was a footnote on a book I was reading about the Franklin Expedition, which I had never heard of, and I decided that’s what I was gonna write about, and it had a tremendous amount of the unknown that I could fill in, that’s what novelists love. And so I told my editors excitedly that this was what I was gonna do, I would call it The Terror after the HMS Terror that went with the Erebus, got stuck in the ice, all the crew disappeared in history… And they said no. 
[laughter]
DS: ...it was the first time the publishers did that. I said, “Why not? I think it’s gonna be a pretty good novel.” And they said, “Look, nobody’s interested in a bunch of people that’ve been dead for 150 years.” 
SH: That sounds like some of our meetings.
[laughter]
DS: So I did what maybe you do, in such a meeting, I just thanked them, and I liked them all, and I had a good dinner(?) and I said goodbye, and bought back my last book on the contract and went out and wrote it on spec. 
SH: Well why don’t we take a step back, Dave, and why don’t you tell us about how you found Dan’s book and that experience?
DK: Sure! Dan, you might remember some of these steps from your side of it, which is that originally this was auctioned by Universal as a feature, and I sort of tried to get the rights and was a bit too late, and tracked them down to the producers at Universal who were running the project and got myself hired as the screenwriter for a feature adaptation. By the time I was ready to start actually committing an outline to the paper, Universal had let the rights go because there was a competing project. It was interesting to sort of rack up reasons why people wanted to make it but didn’t feel that they could pull the trigger, and we were so grateful when AMC finally called us back and said, “Look, we’ve figured out a model where we can do this as a limited series,” it really felt like ten episodes was a great length for this, because we could blend genres in a way that, you know, we could unpack sort of slowly, more slowly than a lot of shows would’ve done, and drive the plot as much as we could, like the novel, with character choices and decisions as opposed to just horror kind of entering the frame and taking over for one set piece after another. So it was a long journey, getting this to AMC, but at the end of the day I think we found the right home for it.
DS: I can no longer imagine a two hour version, feature film version of this story, and I can’t imagine a second season of this story, I think it was just right.
SH: It does feel like we did a ten hour cinematic novel. 
[audio from the show]
Crozier: Only four of us at this table are Arctic veterans. There’ll be no melodramas here--just live men, or dead men. 
SH: Dan, Dave and I talk about how addictive the research gets for this when you start going down the rabbit hole, how did you approach the research?
DS: I think most novelists run into that, but since I write a lot of quasi-historical novels, at least set in history, I get totally addicted to going down the rabbit hole. Readers say, “Well, Simmons’ book is too long, and the descriptions of things are too exhausting,” but I watch your characters go on deck and there are all the things and views and everything that I tried so hard to describe and then people tell me, y’know, “talky, verbose,” and in print I have to do it that way, but you just pan the camera a little bit. 
DK: You have words, we have images! For every thousand of yours, we get one!
DS: Yeah.
SH: But I remember this passage in your book where it talks about all the different ices, and you vest it with so much psychological import. We talk about that passage a lot in the writers room, it was one of our highlights, of this is how you do great descriptive writing.
DK: And you made so many parallels between things like the environments of the ships and characters, you built a kind of code book for the show without realizing you were doing it, which is making visual metaphors out of a lot of these things that would normally just be exposition or historical detail.
SH: Well especially between Crozier and the ship, I mean when you hear about Crozier’s relationship with Terror, and you have so many amazing passages about, you know, the groan of the ship and how it, y’know, and you cut to a scene with Crozier and how you feel that the bones of Crozier is embedded in the ship, and we really took a lot from that. 
DS: Well I noticed that on one of the episodes where Lord Franklin [sic] is trying to get back in touch with Crozier, you know, trying to be friends with him again, I think it’s a brilliant episode you guys wrote.
[show audio]
Franklin: You’ve succeeded in avoiding Erebus most of the winter.
Crozier: I’m a captain. I’m--I’m peevish off my own ship. I leave it and I hear disaster knocking at its door, before I’m ten steps away.
DS: And that was beautifully written, that. You got so much of Crozier right there.
DK: It was a pleasure to write these characters on the backs of your writing of these characters, because you really--I mean, it’s not the easiest thing in the world to do, as you know, from having written, you know, a whole long string of historical books, is to make these people’s psychologies feel as modern as they must have felt in their day, while still being able to articulate some of the blind spots of being from the eras they were from. 
I’m curious from sort of a history nerd point of view, if people watch the series and like the series, and read the book and like the book, and want to know more about this expedition, what’s the first book about the Franklin Expedition you would point people to? What was most helpful or most interesting in your research? 
DS: I apologize, I can’t think of the name of it, but it’s a collection of stories about both the South and North Pole, and so it’s a short section on the Franklin Expedition, but it didn’t make mistakes, and most of the other books that I read, uh, keyed, and videos for that matter, like PBS did a story about the Franklin Expedition, but they keyed off a 1987 attempt by several doctors to figure out what happened to the crew, and they exhumed three crewmen’s bodies from the first island where they stayed the first winter, and those crewmen had only been on the ship a couple of months, but they decided because of a high lead content that the lead had poisoned them and then made them stupid, and made them paranoid and everything, but they didn’t compare that test of lead with any background people in London at the time, and later they did, so I didn’t believe the lead thing.
DK: Well that’s the fascinating thing about a mystery with this many parts and pieces, kind of in flux, is, you know, you can create all kinds of competing narratives about it, and what’s fascinating about writing a fictional version is you can’t have that kind of ambiguity, you have to make a decision. I think people will enjoy very much ways that the show and the book have a similar point of view, and also ways that they diverge in their points of view, because there are so many ways to tell this story--
SH: Well you know how much we invest responsibility in the audience as well, right?
DK: Sure.
SH: In terms of your book and our show as well, we’re not against interpretation, that there’s a responsibility on the audience’s part to put together--we’re not gonna hand feed them. There’ll be some people who put more of an onus on Franklin, and others who would say, “You know, if I was in that position, I probably would’ve made the same decision,” “Oh no, this definitely killed the men,” “No, this killed them!” and that dialogue is exciting, you know, when you read fans talk about your show and your books and really smart, insightful ways. 
[show audio]
Franklin: Would it help if I said that I made a mistake? 
Crozier: You misunderstand me, Sir John, I--I only meant to describe why I brood, not that I judge.
DS: I don’t worry about who or what my reading audience is. People ask me about that and I don’t imagine a certain reader. But I’ve always tried to write for somebody who’s more intelligent than I am. My perfect reader would be just smart as hell, speak eight languages, you know, have fantastic world experiences, and I want to write something that will please that person, and I think your show does the same thing.
DK: Well we were--that was our motto! We wanted to be sort of the dumbest members of our collaboration and there’s a sort of horrifying moment when you realize that’s come true. 
[laughter]
[show background music]
DK: Tell us a little bit about why you made the decisions to tell the story in the order you told it, and whether you sort of felt like there was anything from the way you had told it that we were--or a missed opportunity. We’d love to know sort of what your experience of that was. 
DS: I don’t think there were any missed opportunities in terms of not adapting my way of telling it, and I can’t remember all the reasons for why I broke it down that way, some of them were just very localized to, you know, when I was writing that particular bit. But I do know that it gains a lot by being told chronologically the way you’re doing it, so for me that seems now the logical way to tell it again.
DK: Have you ever read the novel in chronological order? When we hired writers for the writers room, we gave them a list of what the chapters were like in chronological order, and I think we asked half the room to read it in your order and half the room to read it in chronological order so we could have a discussion, a meaningful discussion about whether there were things about telling it without being in chronological order that we wanted to embrace or not. It was a fantastic experience and I wonder if you’ve ever read your chapters in chronological order? ‘Cause it’s also a fantastic book!
[laughter]
DS: I haven’t read it that way, they were that way in my mind before I started getting fancy and breaking them up and moving them around in time and space, but I would love to have seen that experiment.
DK: The reason we can get away with it in the show is because there is a loved book out there that people trust, and you know, it is a classic in this genre, so I mean this is a perfect example of, you know, the amount of gratitude we owe the book, because we got away with a lot of things that maybe we wouldn’t have been able to get away with because you came before us. 
SH: And speaking of those rabid fans, Dan, it’s been really interesting reading audience reactions to the show from people who’ve loved the books and who just naturally will compare the two, and we’ve been heartened by just how supportive our fans have become--are of the show. There is this controversy, some people like our choice to give Lady Silence a voice and some people feel it was sacrilege to your book, where do you fall on that? DS: At first I was surprised. In fact when you were hunting for an actress for Lady Silence and I read about that, it said somebody who’s fluent in this Inuit language and this Inuit language, and I said, “What the hell?”
[show audio]
[Silna speaking Inuktitut to her dying father] 
DS: Having seen her with the tongue and heard her, and knowing the different reason they call her Lady Silence, it all works for me and I was also surprised when Captain Crozier could speak fairly fluent, you know, dialect, ‘cause I had him just not understanding a thing.
[show audio]
[Crozier speaking Inuktitut to Silna in the same scene as above]
DS: I love it when readers get rabid about not changing something from a book, and I have to talk to them sometimes, not ‘cause I have a lot of things adapted, this is the first one, but I love movies. They say “Aren’t you worried it will hurt your book?” and first I explain Richard Comden(?)’s idea that you can’t hurt a book anyway, except by not reading it, I mean the books are fine, no matter how bad some adaptation becomes. Books abide, and so I wasn’t concerned. With the changes that I see, I get sorta tickled, whereas some readers get upset, and they just have that set. So I think that the vast majority of viewers haven’t--well, I know the vast majority haven’t read the book, haven’t heard of the book, probably, they’re gonna keep watching because of the depth of the characters, and that’s based on the first two episodes, and I agree with them completely.
[show audio]
[Silna speaking Inuktitut]
Crozier: She said that if we don’t leave now, we’re going to “huk-kah-hoi.”
Blanky: Disappear. 
SH: We get asked a lot of questions about the supernatural element of the show and the way a monster does or does not figure in the narrative, and seeing our episodes, did it feel surprising or did it feel faithful to the way you imagined it as well to your book? 
DS: It was surprising to me at how well it was done, because it’s hard, I know, to show restraint in a series like this, and certainly in a movie, but it’s hard to show restraint at showing and explaining the monster. 
[show audio]
[ominous music, Tuunbaq roaring, men screaming]
DS: The way you did it in the first few episodes to me were just lovely, just, you know, a hint of a glance at something and then you see the results of this creature, so that’s what I tried to do in the novel, one of the reasons I moved around through space and time, part of what I wanted to do was not cheapen the story and not cheapen the reality of these poor men dying by just throwing in a monster, and so I tried to do it in a way that would not disrespect the true tale, and I believe you’re doing it the same way I tried. 
DK: The way you incorporated the supernatural into the book, I mean, I was a fan of it when I first read it. It was jaw dropping the way that it fits so well on a level of plot, on a level of character, and on a level of theme. So when we got the green light to adapt it I was so confident that we were going to be able to do something with it that would be able to be nuanced because the bones of it are so organically terrific.
SH: It helped us know what we didn’t want to do. That formed so much of our conversation, of “this is what we do not want, this is what we do not want,” and slowly you whittled down to getting down to the essence of what this thing had to be.
[show audio]
[Tuunbaq growling]
DK: Another character from the book that really stands out for fans that they are wondering what in the world we’re doing with is Manson. [laughter] And I was curious what you made of the fact that he is pretty invisible in the first three episodes of the show, and that some of his plot beats have been given to a character called Gibson, who I don’t remember is--I don’t think he’s featured very much in the novel. And I wondered if that caught you off guard or if you sort of intuitively had a sense of what we were doing in making that change? 
DS: Any discussion of Manson to me leads to Hickey converting him to his future, his tribe, the tribe he wants to have, group of worshippers, that I think Hickey wants to have, but he does it by sex below decks. Hickey’s not gay at all, he’s a manipulator, to me, and he was manipulating Manson who was big and dumb, in my book, he’s manipulating him by this sexual encounter. But I was curious whether you were worried about showing that?
DK: Well, we weren’t worried about showing characters having same-sex affairs or relationships. We wanted to make room in Hickey’s character for actual affection, or if not affection then companionship, or some kind of connection.
[show audio]
Hickey: Lieutenant Irving! I was hoping we’d meet. 
Crewman: Mind the grease there, sir. 
Hickey: I wanted to... thank you… for your help. For your discretion, I mean. 
Irving: Call it anything but help, Mr. Hickey. Please. I exercised clemency for a man abused by a devious seducer.
DK: We wanted to make sure that Hickey had access to command in some way that a steward, an officer’s steward, would be able to provide him, that an able seaman wouldn’t be able to provide him, and that was really valuable to us in terms of charting out all of these character stories, was how does he know what he knows about how command is dissatisfied or where the fractures are if he can’t see them from where he’s sleeps in his cot in the forecastle. 
SH: I mean we know that there were relations between the same sex on ships, it just was part of this world. Not to belie that there was serious consequences for it, but you know, we have 129 characters, and we wanted them to feel fully fledged and rich, and, you know, passions do naturally develop and have no characters engaged in sexual relations would have felt just as odd and perhaps even more controversial, and when Irving discovers Gibson and Hickey, his shock is from such a subjective point of view of his moral center. It’s not the camera’s perspective, right? Our camera’s very neutral in that scene. It’s Irving, that character at that point in the show, that is infusing a sense of horror, that’s his horror moment.
DS: I’d like to add that it’s not the gay connection that would cause criticism, but I was flayed alive because the most openly quote “gay” unquote character, that is, Hickey, you know, maybe hunting for affection but definitely hunting for power, he’s the only one they said in reviews, and he’s a killer and a bad person, so I’m homophobic, but I was flayed alive for that. The word homophobic appeared in about 80 reviews. Nobody mentioned the purser, who uh--
DK: Right, Bridgens and Peglar.
DS: Yeah. I thought he was a fascinating character. I loved getting glimpses of him in the series because he’s super smart, he’s super wise, he’s probably wiser than any of the commanders, ahd he’s obviously in love with--who is it that he’s in love with in the show?
DK: Peglar. 
DS: Yes, that makes sense. And, uh, so Peglar says, you know, “Is this another Herodotus?” and, “No, I’m giving you Swift now,” he’s educating the man he cares for. 
[show audio]
Hickey: I understand you cleared up our “association” for Lieutenant Irving? Gibson: You spoke to him.
Hickey: Mhm.
Gibson: Directly?
(beat)
Christ, Cornelius, I’d reassured him.
Hickey: Cornelius Hickey is a “devious seducer.” That was your--that was your reassurance? You’ve got some face, you know that? 
DK: We wouldn’t have dramatized Hickey’s story if we weren’t also going to pull in Peglar and Bridgens’ story, because we knew that people, you know, are predisposed to sort of make that kind of quick assumption, and we just wanted to make sure that the show didn’t have that blind spot and reflected the book, which also doesn’t have that blind spot. 
SH: We had those same questions with Lady Silence, and I’m sure you did as well. When we meet her, she’s a frightened young woman who’s about to lose her father, and that’s a universal character moment that anyone can relate to, and the otherness is sort of--is secondary, but then once--in the end scene of 1.02, when she’s sitting there grieving her father and then you have that language barrier with everyone else, we worked with Nive on this because we wanted to make sure the language itself was as accurate as possible, so when you say disappear making sure that the disappear in our language means the same thing as disappear in her language. I think whenever you have characters that feel othered in most media and you’re bringing them into your show, Dave and I also just wanted to make sure we weren’t swaying on the pendulum on the other side and being almost too careful about touching them, and with Nive I think when you have an actor of that talent, she was strong, she was representing a voice that she felt very confident in, and that was very reassuring for us.
DS: And it works well, and when her father’s dying, she throws herself on his chest and says “I’m not ready, it’s too soon, I’m not ready,” and I love that in the show because if she’s gonna become a Shaman he’s dying you know it’s not reached that point of education yet where she feels secure and later on you know beyond what we’re discussing today she becomes to me in the show I see her as more and more majestic.
SH: I do love the word majestic ‘cause I think it describes pretty much all of our characters. I agree, I do think there is something very sublime about who they have become at the end because when you go through that much trials and tribulations, it’s this beautiful human spirit to endure. 
DS: I think that’s one of the central themes of the story that you’ve brought out so clearly. In most post-apocalypse, you know, terrible situation movies and shows, everybody turns nasty as hell, they start shooting each other, it’s just like WWIII when they should be helping each other survive, and I found even though there was controversy, even though there was opposition in this story, people opposing against each other, still that they rose to the occasion. And that is so rare I think in much media these days or even books where the characters are themselves and they do the best they can, and when things get bad they rise to the occasion.
DK: The first conversation you and I had about the book, you know, I was basically pitching you sort of what I thought thematically the book was about, and I talked a lot about, that in a disaster like this, a kind of moral emergency, that we would get a chance to unpack what is sort of best and worst in these characters’ souls.
DS: I confuse readers often when I was on book tour for this book, and it was a long time ago, I’ve written a few million words since then, but I confused people by saying that if you want a theme for the survival story of The Terror, it’s love. It’s love between the men. And just unstinting love. And this came out in a piece of dialogue, in the first two episodes.
[audio from the show]
Franklin: I’ll not have you speak of him uncharitably, James. He is my second. If something were to happen to me, you would be his second. You should cherish that man. 
Fitzjames: Sometimes I think you love your men more than even God loves them, Sir John. 
Franklin: For all your sakes, let’s hope you’re wrong. 
DS: That to me was right the theme I was working with, and with Crozier who shows it a different way, with Fitzjames who’s struggling to show leadership, and between the men despite their hierarchy and the British hierarchy, the rank and lieutenants and so forth, eventually they come down to loving the men they try to save. And I found that lovely. 
[The Terror opening theme music plays]
DK: Thank you so much for listening to The Minds Behind The Terror, join us in our next edition when we talk about episodes 4-6 with the additional guest Adam Nagaitis phoning in from London. We will see you soon!
[preview snippet from the next episode plays]
DS: I’ll confess something else to Adam, the first time I watched it, I thought your character was a good guy because he jumped down in that grave to put the lid back on.
[laughter]
109 notes · View notes
mudhornchronicles · 3 years
Text
festivals | din djarin 
Tumblr media
pairing: din djarin x reader; din djarin x military!reader; din djarin x general!reader
warnings: remembering of aq vetina, mentions of war
a/n: i’m back ya’ll. school really messed me up ANYWAYS we back with another dinny fic. the festival idea came from my own culture in Mexico with a celebration called Danza de los Viejitos! 
masterlist
_______
Spring on your planet was the time of a cycle where your planet gets the most visitors. You would know… you had to authorize every single ship that came into the atmosphere. You sat in the control center every day for the past 9 rotations authorizing ship after ship – making sure none of them came to cause trouble. Your planet could not take a hit like that anymore.
But it was finally the day.
Pink and purple skies, green leaves, and warm winds created the perfect day to hold the celebration of your culture’s history – the day your people escaped imprisonment and a life or servitude.
In 19 BBY, your planet was invaded by Gamorian raiders and the elders fought them off. Civilians and military, all passed 40 years old, stayed behind while they forced everyone younger on escape ships. They wanted to “protect the able ones from extinction.” Your father stayed behind, a 38-year-old general in the emperor’s army, stayed behind as your mother your two brothers, ages 12 and 16, and a 5-year-old you were loaded onto the ship, leaving your father behind to fight for his people.
When the fight was over, he became this planet’s emperor after Emperor Molur became ill and unable to rule.
That same year, a few civilians claiming to be from an attacked settlement named Aq Vetina entered the atmosphere. Your father couldn’t turn them away as he saw “fear and a cry for help” look in their eyes. He knew that look. He lived it. It hurt him when he saw a group of dirty, shaking individuals in need of help with nothing but the clothing on their backs. Their red robes and frightened demeanor became engrained in your mind and as you saw safer days, so did they.
Your father painted visual minds of how the elders, 60-year-olds, fought off the raiders with the skill set they once knew in their youth. The determination they had to fight for their planet was motivating and drove you to also protect your planet they way they did for you. That was when you decided to serve. You trained day and night all throughout your youth and into adulthood. When your father, or your emperor you should say, deemed you well, you entered the military along with your siblings.
Your eldest brother left the planet when he met his partner. He wanted to see what the galaxy and so he went. Your other brother left the military to pursue education. He loved children and took advantage of his patience and knowledge. You remained.
You worked and worked as you climbed the ranks. You wanted to earn your position and so you did. Your peers were elated for you and served well under you. You knew every soldier in the force by name and up to their grandparents. You loved your planet and everyone in it even if they weren’t born there.
Your father deemed this day in remembrance of those who gave the planet’s inhibitants the right to remain happy on this planet and celebrate their lives. He decided that spring would be the best season as the brightest colors came to light.
A tradition this festival had was a performance by civilians wearing an elder-resembling mask and clothing too big and dated to be their own. These masks were decorated in white rope hair, wrinkles, and big smiles. These civilians would wear these to bring their elders alive for one night. They would dance through the street as watchers threw flowers and cheered them on. It never failed to put a smile on your face.
This was a tradition ever since and now, in 19 ABY, it was bigger than ever. Every species you can possibly think of has been present at some point, but you have never seen a Mandalorian enter your planet.
That is until today.
“Identify yourself, Razor Crest,” you hear the private ask.
What in the Maker is a Razor Crest doing here?
“This is Razor Crest requesting to land.”
You roll your eyes. Yeah, no shit, you thought.
You gesture the private to hold. You walk over and hold down the button on the comm.
“What is your business here, Razor Crest.”
“The festival. Should there be another reason?” a gruff voice answers.
You tilt your head. Why do I have a bad feeling?
“Stage 91 is clear to land. Over.”
“Stage 91. Heard.”
You allow the private to move on to the next ship in line. You take a deep breath in and decide its best to quiet this questioning voice in your head. You’ll just see for yourself, you said to yourself.
“Are the Sergeants on the field?” You ask the private.
“Yes, General. All 12 Sergeants and 38 Captains are out in the field making their rounds.”
You nod. “Very well.” You look over your shoulder and look at the other privates on the datapads. “Private Lukis,” you call out.
The poor young man, no more than 21, quickly stands, dropping items from the desk, and salutes. “Yes, General. Private Lukis at your attention.”
You stifle a laugh, and you shake your head in disbelief. “Private. I understand you’re new, but I’ve told you numerous times that you simply answer with yes, General. None of that is needed okay, son?”
Still saluting, he replies with, “Yes, General.”
���Put your hand down, son, and call a land speeder for me.”
He quickly nods his head, gives a yes general and proceeds to call in for a speeder.
As you go to walk towards the door, you look over to him and call for him again. He looks at you, saying yet another yes general and smiles. “You’re doing great, Private. I’m appreciative of your aid in the force.”
“Thank you, General.” He exclaims, his face turning red. “I am happy to be here.”
With that you left to go see this Razor Crest.
You waited as you saw the ramp go down with a hiss. You stand at attention with a Sergeant to your right and a Captain to your left.
Your eyes widen at the glimpse of beskar and take a deep breath. You slowly exhale as the broad warrior makes his way down.
“Is this how you greet all of your guests?” he dryly says.
“For the guests we find unsual, yes. What’s your business here, Mandalorian?” you sternly ask.
“Heard there was a festival.”
You simply nod.
“Am I allowed to be here?”
You remain looking at the warrior as you command the other officials to move on.
“I take it you brought more guests on that ancient craft of yours?”
“Just me.”
You take a couple of steps towards him. He doesn’t flinch.
“I’ve never seen a Mandalorian on this planet before. You leave your clan somewhere else?”
“Yes.”
“How unfortunate. They would have loved the festival. Do you enjoy dancing, warrior?”
“No.”
You let out a single chuckle. “By the end of the night, you will. Enjoy the festival, Mandalorian. I suggest you have plenty of credits on hand… with the treats they sell, you’ll want to buy some for the trip.”
“Thank you, General.”
You bid farewell and walk towards your landspeeder. You look back at the warrior and notice he’s still looking at you. “How did you know I was a general?”
“Your confidence. It would be a waste for you not to be.”
You smirk at this. “And the stars on your lapel give it away,” he continues.
You look at your embroidered stars and smile. “Good eye, Mandalorian.” He nods in appreciation as you hop on the land speeder.
“I’ll see you around, warrior.”
“I’m sure,” he says.
You ask the droid to be taken to the palace. You have to get ready too.
Bright colors flow as you walk the streets of the festival. Paper decorations and string lights go from streetlight to streetlight and the sound of laughing children sing songs to your ears. You walk with your father as you both greet anyone who comes in your way. Your father, dressed in an intricate silk number with florals and bright colors, is the embodiment of happiness. His smile is even brighter than the jewelry he wears. You, having gone with a black number with an embroidered masterpiece of bright colored patterns, take in the sight of it all.
As you continue on, you spot a glimmer of silver in the corner of your eye. You turn your head and spot the Mandalorian from earlier, leaning against a tree. You offer a small wave and he returns a nod.
“I want eyes on my father at all times while I’m gone, do you understand?” you speak into the commlink.
“Yes, General. Delta and Sierra on him,” your captain replies.
You excuse yourself from your father’s side and receive a kiss your hand as he smiles at you. You can be the most frightening general in the galaxy, but you are never too tough for a kiss from your father.
You walk towards the Mandalorian and spot the wooden trinket in his hands. “I see you found Mister Ferin’s stand. His work is stunning, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he replies. He sounds much different than earlier today. Is he upset?
“I must admit I have many of his trinkets. He made me a carousel when I was young and I still cherish it everyday.”
“He’s very talented.”
You look at the Mandalorian and are met with your reflection in his visor. “Would you like to walk with me, warrior?”
He pushes himself off the trunk of the tree. “Very well. Lead the way.”
And so you do.
You showed him your favorite drink stand and even convinced him to try one. He refused to take off his helmet, so you improvised. You connected two straws so it would slide under his helmet.
It worked.
You showed him the dance of the elders. He paid attention to every detail of it. He asked about the history, the significance of the colors, and even the music. You felt comfortable. You were more than happy to talk about and when he asked for specifics, your heart fluttered.
How was this beskar-clad stranger so much more interested in the history than anyone you have ever met? Everyone else came for the parties, but he wanted to learn.
He came to learn.
You walked some more as he drank from his two-straw drink. He asked to stop by again and you happily agreed. You got to know him too. You had learned that he had a son – a foundling, he said. You knew he was taken in by Mandalorians and you knew about the events of the last couple of rotations. His stride was confident and was openly speaking to you as if you were best friends the whole time, but then he stopped abruptly. You looked over at him.
“Mando? You okay?”
His visor stayed fixed at the view in front of you.
That’s when you saw it.
He became vulnerable.
His stance turned frail, and his chest began to heave. You looked over and spot an elderly couple sitting on a bench in their red robes, taking in the scene of the festival.
You asked again. “Mandalorian, what did you see?”
“Where did they get those robes?” He gruffed out. There was no emotion behind the question. It felt as if he wasn’t there anymore.
“I… They’ve always had them. That’s what they came here with.”
“Came from where?” He turned to you.
“Their settlement. It was a long time ago. Remember when I said our planet got attacked? So did theirs, except… not many survived from their settlement.”
He stomped over to the couple and you hurried after him. He stopped in front of the couple.
“Where did you get those robes. Where are you from?”
The woman gasped at the Mandalorian, but the man remained still. He eyed the warrior before him.
“What’s it to you, bucket?”
You quickly answer. “I’m so sorry to alarm you, Mister and Missus Pescur.”
“What settlement did you come from?” The Mandalorian asked, more softly now. “I- I know these robes.”
“I doubt it,” the elderly man says. “We were not Mandalorians. Just peaceful civilians who were attacked.”
“You are from Aq Vetina.”
“So what?”
“I… I was born on Aq Vetina. My mother and father were killed in the attack and I was taken in by the Mandalorians. I- I didn’t… I didn’t know there were any survivors.”
“Yeah? Well, you know now, bucket. We have lived peacefully on this planet so do not go around running that rusted helmet about it. The Emperor and the General have kept us safe. You mess that up, I’ll hunt you down myself.”
“Mister Pescur, I assure you this warrior means no harm. He is my guest.”
His wife stands and looks at the Mandalorian. “You are from Aq Vetina?”
He sighs. “Yes.”
Her frail hand slowly reaches for him. He eases his body’s tension and allows Mrs. Pescur to pat the back of his gloved hand. “You’ve seen many things in your life, haven’t you son?”
“Yes,” he chokes out.
“You needn’t be so rude!” She says slapping her husband’s knee. “This poor young man was blind sighted! Apologize!”
Mando chuckles, shaking his helmet side to side. “I should be apologizing.”
Mr. Pescur stands in front of Mando as he sizes him up. “Prove it.”
“Prove what?”
“Prove to me you are one of us,” he says. “I’ll apologize when I see that you lost something just like we did.”
You shift your gaze over to this beskar-clad warrior. You hear a sigh modulate through as he whispers his agreeance. You watch him as he lifts the lapel of a pouch on his belt and pulls a beaded bracelet. Obsidian pearls polished to perfection all tied together with a braided red string. He reluctantly hands it to Mr. Pescur with shaky hands.
“My family name is Djarin,” he states. “My father was a mechanic, fixed anything with a gear… and my mother was a sea-“
“A seamstress,” Mr. Pescur finishes. “Din? Little Din that always ruined his red robes when it rained?”
His wife gasped. “The little boy who would always ask to be hidden from that womp weasel in the market?”
What a small galaxy, you thought.
Within a blink of an eye, the old couple had their arms wrapped around Mando. “My boy,” Mr. Pescur tearfully says, “look how you’ve grown.”
Mando, or Din as you learned, did not reciprocate the hugging interaction. He was paralyzed. “I don’t remember a Pescur family,” he mentions.
“We changed our name here!” Mrs. Pescur exclaims. “My name is Lurina. Do you remember? You’d hide at my mother’s post at the market and would always ask for a berry treat when you left. I must have been in my 20s at the time.”
“Yes!” Din remembered. “You would always carry a blue satchel with the extras for the post.” Mrs. Pescur laughed as she confirmed his memory. Din turned to Mr. Pescur and pointed. “You would help my father when he would fix the generators. You’d always stop by her post.”
As the couple went on and on about the memories they remember from their settlement, Din looked over to you.
“I had no idea that there were any survivors… let alone ever find them. Thank you.”
You shot him a confused, yet genuine smile. “Why are you thanking me?”
“For allowing me to walk these streets.”
You placed a hand on his arm – a wordless you’re welcome. You remained with the couple for a few more minutes before they decided to go back home. You watched as they bid their farewells and Mrs. Pescur sliding the ornate bracelet on Din’s wrist. Din stopped them with a low wait.
He slowly removed his helmet and looked back up and the couple. Mrs. Pescur smiled and ran to him. She wrapped her arms around him as he did her, giving her a short squeeze. As they let go, Mrs. Pescur pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek as she spoke, your parents would be so proud.
Mr. Pescur took his time walking to Din. He reached a hand up and laid it on Din’s other cheek, gently patting it. Din took matters into his own hands and hugged the elder man, giving him a squeeze too. Mr. Pescur laughed and joked Squeeze me with that build of yours and I’ll pop, boy.
The lights over your head became brighter the more you stood there. You patiently waited for Din to slide his helmet back on, but he took a hold of your hand instead. A bold move, you thought. He looked to you and smiled.
Who knew you liked dimples and brown eyes? He wore them well.
“General,” he promptly said. “The night is still young. I’d like to see more of this festival.”
“You a dancer? Because that’s what you are going to get dragged into at this time,” you joke.
“As long as it is with you,” he confesses, “I am willing to make a fool of myself.”
“You don’t even know me, Mandalorian.”
“You can call me Din.” You nod.
“Alright Din, still doesn’t; change the fact that you don’t know me.”
“You’re right… but I’d like to.”
You can’t help but to blush at that. You nod and look around as you hear the music in the background. “Squirt some oil in that armor of yours, Din.” You interlock your fingers with his. You shot a grin in his direction as you bobbed your head towards the music. “We’re going to a festival.”
______
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ppersonna · 4 years
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pick your filter - pjm | m
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mix the colors in the palette, pick your filter. which me do you want? the one to change your world, i'm your filter - filter, bts
↳ summary- You love turning Jimin on, and you’re desperate to make him punish you for it.  Jimin loves punishing you while you listen to his music.
↳ rating- explicit / 18+
↳ word count- 5.1k
↳ pairing- jimin x reader
↳ genre- smut, this is literally just smut, there’s 1% plot and it’s pornographic too, there’s some fluff at the end but i repeat it is still smut. there is no god in this chili’s tonight
↳ warnings- buckle up pals.  established relationship, explicit descriptions of sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), BDSM themes, spanking, belt usage, dirty talk, derogatory names, pain kink, daddy kink, face-fucking lol, unprotected sex, slight impregnation kink but like not really they just wanna have a baby together and talk about it lol, jimin is filthy and i cannot portray him as anything but filthy but then he has like cute babie syndrome at the end.
↳ a/n- hi i feel maybe 1% shame in how fast i wrote this but whatever.  thank you to @carly-bean-blog for sending the prompt in!  i loved it and went from a planned drabble to 5k words lolol.  one day i’ll be less verbose 🥴🥴 plus enjoy and feel free to send in more requests or just a message to say hi bc as you can see i love talking. also RIP to the wine glass i broke while writing this fic because i hit my table to hard.  wine glass 2020-2020
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Turning Park Jimin on was a delicious challenge for you.
When you first began dating, all it took was a ‘come over’ text, and he’d be there in 5 minutes flat regardless of the fact that he lived 15 minutes away.
Now, a few years and a marriage under your belt, it took a bit more.
That’s not to say he wasn’t the same insatiable man you met at university; even after all these years Jimin could easily go 3 or more rounds a night.
But really getting him riled up, getting him hard and wanting and desperate for you was another thing.  Sometimes, you just wanted him to come home and take you right against the kitchen counter, so turned on he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom.
You’re determined to win that challenge today.  
To be truthful, the day was terrible for you, and you were seeking release in the form of your husband dicking you down until you were speaking another language. You were desperate to let loose, push aside the emotional and tender sex that seemed to be more commonplace in the bedroom recently (and you enjoyed equally) but today you needed to be treated like an absolute harlot.
The idea rolled through your mind while you were busying yourself with housework, laundry and dishes.  Options of how to get your husband to take you on the floor, rip your clothes off, make you beg for more, simmered in your mind and made the low flame in your stomach burn.  Lingerie could do the trick, Jimin definitely liked to see you swathed in delicate lace or creamy satin.  You had a nice deep red set that was dying to be used and discarded on the floor.
It came to you as you set your speaker to play some music as you flicked around the house.  Jimin’s sweet voice filled the rooms, causing you to pause as shivers raked your spine.
His music.  There was always something Jimin loved about having his music on in the background of your sex that made him work harder on you, fuck you deeper.  Maybe it was narcissism at its finest, but who were you to complain if it benefitted both of you.
You discarded all thoughts of cleaning the rest of the house as you stalked towards your bedroom closet, gathering the red bustier and panty set, with matching garter belt and stocking clips.  You purchased it rather spur of the moment, a huge sale at your favorite boutique, and you wanted to save it for something special.
It appeared the special moment was now.
You took care to curl your hair, a gentle wave with not too much product.  Jimin loved to tug his fingers through your locks, and grip them in a ponytail as you sucked his cock.  Any product would unfortunately get in the way.  Makeup was minimal, a dash highlight on your cheeks and inner tear ducts, light pink lip stain on your lips.  Jimin had been the test subject of many a lipstick, as you determined to find the most blowjob-proof one.  Needless to say, none of the lipsticks were 100% solid, but it was the best time Jimin ever had as a test subject. You preferred to stick with the stains, easier cleanup for the both of you.
You complete the visual as you swap your grubby cleaning day clothes for blood red lace lingerie, smirking at yourself in the mirror.  The cups of the bra molded against you, encasing your tits perfectly.  Jimin would surely lose his mind.  The panties were simple lace, and you had the inkling that they would not remain intact tonight.   Jimin’s propensity for literally ripping your knickers right off you was legendary.  But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?  You wanted your husband to be absolutely feral for you.
Step two of your plan was now underway as you slipped onto your bed, perfectly made now, and snapped sultry photos.  You ensured your cleavage and smooth legs were in the shot, a finger on the mouth.  You took a few more, exposing more and more of your body.
me 2:56 pm- hi babe what you up to?
mini 2:56 pm- baby!!!! Not much, just waiting for hobi to get back from lunch so we can practice this new choreo.  
Mini 2:57 pm- what about you? besides being the world’s cutest wife :)
Me: 2:57 pm- oh not too much. I did our laundry and cleaned up the house a little.  Now im just relaxing and missing my babe :(
Mini 2:57 pm- baby :( i’m sorry.  I should be home in a few hours okay! I’ll order in pasta from your favorite place to make up for it
Me 2:58 pm- well, i was sort of hoping you could make up for it but… i don’t want pasta
Mini 2:58 pm- you don’t? What do you want? Pizza?
Me 2:58 pm- [picture attached]
Me 2:58 pm- no, I want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight.
Mini 2:59 pm- oh fuck 
Mini 2:59 pm- baby you’re playing a dangerous game, teasing me like this.
You nearly had him, he was sniffing at the bait and soon he’d bite and you’d reel him in.  You sent the next picture, showcasing your tits with one cup pulled down, nipple on display.
me 3:00 pm- you mean this kind of game?
mini 3:00 pm- christ
mini 3:00 pm- fuck babe, you’re gonna make me pop a boner at dance practice.  You know I can’t come home for a few hours.
me 3:00 pm- hobi still gone?  Go to the bathroom and i’ll send you a video.
mini 3:01 pm- holy fuck asdskadj okay
Time for the pièce de résistance.  Ensuring the speakers blasted ‘Serendipity’, your husband’s full length solo, you clicked the record button and filmed your hand sliding down to your clothed core, rubbing over the mound with a rough hand.  You breathed heavily, sighed, mewled a bit.  
“Daddy,” you gasp. “Come home.”
You end it with a hand sneaking under the band and insertion of one finger.  Leave him not just wanting more, but rabid for it.  The video file is sent before you've even pulled your fingers from their spot resting on your clit.
Minutes passed, you were sure he was watching.  The man lived for your exhibitionism.  
mini 3:06 pm- you better have your hands behind your back and be on your knees when i get home, little one. In the middle of the bedroom floor. 
mini 3:06 pm- i want you to listen to the music and think about me fucking you.  Think about how i destroy your little cunt so good.
mini 3:07 pm- but don’t you dare touch yourself.  Your pussy is only mine to play with, you got that?
me 3:07 pm- yes daddy 
mini 3:07 pm- good.  I’ll be home soon.
Congratulations, you smirk to yourself in the mirror's reflection across from you.  You’ve won the grand prize.  Please make sure you collect your prize from the man with the raging boner.
You idly realize that Jimin hasn’t told you when he’ll be home.  You know that on any normal day he’d be home at 5:30.  But was he leaving early?  Could you chance it?  As much as you wanted to disobey and face his delicious punishment, he also could just as easily punish you by not letting you cum at all. And the chances of that type of discipline tonight was high; Jimin would surely make you pay for teasing him at work by exacting torturous ache the same to you.
You’re spinning the pros and cons of preparing yourself now or later, when you are given your hasty answer by the sound of keys jingling in the front door.  Your heart rate spikes dangerously, feeling like the muscle would force the blood out of your veins with the pressure.  
You squirm off the bed and descend to the floor on your knees, resting back on your heels, and holding your hands behind your back.  You lower your head to the floor, knowing Jimin loves it when you avoid eye contact until he tells you when and where to look.  
His footsteps are heavy, slow and torturous because you know that he knows that you’ll be on the very edge of your sanity.  The warmth in your belly is torched with tinder and starter and is flaring high.  Jimin’s simple presence, just like this, is enough to get you to an incredible high.  Nothing brings you to your knees faster than when he turns from your sweet, adorable and gentle husband into the sadistic and powerful dominating owner of your body and soul.
It takes 5 deep breaths from your belly before you hear Jimin enter the bedroom.  He’s not saying a single word, but you can hear his soft footsteps on the hardwood floor.  Your knees are aching at the pressure of the hard floor, but you ignore it. You’d ignore cauterizing wounds for the man hovering above you if he asked. 
You’re trembling, you notice.  Your thighs are quivering ever so slightly and the grasp on your hands behind you is weakening.  You grip harder, determined to maintain perfect correct form.
Jimin is frustratingly silent.  He walks around you, and you feel his eyes rove your body intently, as if looking for fault or reason to punish you.  He seems pleased when he finishes his rounds, standing right in front of you. 
“Look at me,” he states with authority, but his tone is gentle. 
You finally tilt your head up to gaze at your lover and nearly gasp at the sight.  Jimin is, on an average day, the most ethereally beautiful man you’ve ever seen.  Today, he looks as if he descended from heaven mere minutes previous.  His pink hair is pushed back, eyes darkened with desire, and wearing the tightest shirt you’ve ever seen, making his toned dancer’s body ripple under the cotton.  Tight sweats that leave nothing to the imagination about what he’s packing between his thighs sit low on his hips and you spot just a hint of his lower abdomen, the v line of his adonis belt, and you’re sure you’re drooling.
“Look at me,” he corrects, a smirk on his face.  Your eyes snap to his own again, and he winks at you. 
“Have you been a good girl for daddy?” He asks, and it feels like a loaded question.  
You play it coy.  “Yes, daddy.”
He stands still in front of you, hand stroking his face as he watches you.  His eyebrow arches.
“Are you sure? You have done nothing to upset Daddy? Nothing at all?” His voice becomes teasing, and the smirk on his features is sinister.
You bite your lip. “I sent Daddy a video of me, touching myself to his music.”
“That’s right, angel,” he murmurs and circles you again.  You feel like his prey before he comes in for the kill. “You made daddy leave practice early.  Don’t you think that’s not being a good girl?”
“No, I did wrong.”
“I’m glad you agree,” he murmurs.  “I’m gonna make you regret getting Daddy hard and horny at work.”
He places his hands on your shoulders and you shiver.  His hands are smooth, warm.  You love the way you feel the cold steel of his wedding ring pressed to your skin, a tangible expression of his love and loyalty.
“Stand up,” he directs.  You’re quick, thankful to be off stinging knees.  He lets his hands glide down your back to meet at your clasped hands, pulling them apart and turning you to face him.
He threads his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, sealing your lips to his.  His lips are soft and taste of chapstick, a hint of sweat, and something just so simply Jimin that is addictive.  He’s gentle and tender in the kiss, the kind of kiss a husband gives his wife.  It speaks miles beyond the simple action, and you chase it, revel in it, knowing it’s the last time he’ll be gentle tonight.  
He breaks from the kiss, touches your nose gently and winks.  It makes your heart flutter in your chest.
The control seeps back into his face; it's physically present in the tight gaze of his eyes and the coolness of his impassive features.  It’s a stark opposite of who just kissed you, and you’re breathless at the sudden change.  
“Gonna spank you with my belt, baby,” he murmurs.  A hand slaps hard against your ass, surprising you and making you squeak out loud.  “Lean over my desk like a good little slut.”
You obey immediately, jerking your body towards his grand oak desk. It’s gorgeous dark wood that matches the decor of your room perfectly and makes for a delicious spot for your sexual proclivities without being obvious.  As much as Jimin wanted a sex swing, you would not cave to that.
You bend to fold your body over the desk, gripping the edge and pushing your hips back to allow for more access to your husband.  The speaker system by your bed plays music, and you recognize the opening chords as one from his latest album with his six best friends. A smile slips to your face as the volume turns up, quiet enough you can talk, but loud enough it’s noticeable. His smooth, melodic voice is ringing through your bedroom and through your entire body. 
He stalks in behind you and rubs at your soft globes.
“Mmm, you look so pretty in this,” he compliments.  “You know I love seeing you in red.”
You turn your head to gaze at him, smiling.  “That’s why I bought it, Daddy.”
“Good little bitch,” he sighs.  
As expected, he rips the underwear from your body with one clean pull.  You’re always surprised by the action. He never gives warning.  Your eyes follow as the useless fabric soars towards the ground. 
“Much better.”
He moves away from you, walking towards the closet.  You train your eyes forward, keeping locked on the wall ahead of you, rather than staring.  Jimin tells you when and where to look and you follow that.
The gentle clinking noise of a belt buckle causes your pussy to quake.  You’ve been slowly moistening since you sent the first text, but you were now starting to drip as if you were overflowing.  By the end of the night, you’ll be drowning in it.
He’s behind you again as quick as he left and he rubs the leather belt against your bare behind. 
“What’s your word?” He asks, soothing at the skin with the device that will soon maar it.  Jimin is ever careful, checking on your mental and emotional safety as well as your physical, and ensured a safe word was in place each time.
“Red,” you assert.  He hums his approval and kisses your ass once, one quick little peck, before he lifts back up to standing.
“Count for me, little whore.”
The crack of the belt spanking your cheek electrifies you.  You feel as if every muscle in your body clenches as the sting vibrates through your buttocks and down to your core.  
“O-one!” You’re shouting, distracted by the pain in your ass to care about your pitch.
Crack. The next slap lands on the other cheek now, and you hiss at the pain.  It bites at your skin, and it soaks your pussy. 
“Two!”
He delivers the next straight in the center, hitting both cheeks and letting the sizzle melt its way to a pleasure that’s reverberating through your core.
“Three! Fuck!” you gasp. 
SMACK.  It’s the hardest yet and tears well up in your eyes at the initial whollop, before your hips are writhing and desperate for friction.
“Four!” You’re wailing and you know it makes your husband go even wilder.
“Stay still or I won’t let you cum for a month,” he grits.  Your hips stay put, knowing he’s a man of his word and not wanting to face his wrath.
He continues his barrage, and you’re counting out 15 strikes before he stops.  You’re sobbing, the pain and pleasure surging so forcefully through your veins that your cunt clenches around nothing and you’re dripping onto the wood of the desk.
His warm hands are soothing at the reddened flesh of your ass, the sensation stinging at first, but oozes away to a relaxing warmth against the punished skin.
“Good girl, baby,” he commends you, hands rubbing all over your flesh. “Took your punishment like such a good girl.”
You sniffle in reply and he pulls you up, making you stand on wobbly legs.  He twists you around and pecks your lips again, a reminder that Jimin, your husband, is still there and loves you more than he loves life itself.  It soothes you more than any salve could and it steels your resolve to continue.  It’s easy to submit and thrill at the loss of control when you trusted the master with your entire being.  
“Color?” He asks, checking in with you.
“Green,” you smile. 
He’s pleased with your answer.  He pulls away from you and pushes you towards the bed.
“Lay down on your back.  Head off the side.  I’m going to fuck your throat, and you will take it all.”
You’re giddy as you saunter to the bed and notice that Jimin is proud of the blooming red of your ass.  It’ll be a literal pain in the ass to sit tomorrow, but it’s worth all the doting and affection you’ll receive in return for being such a good girl for him.  The music has changed, another sensual track featuring your talented husband.  It sends shivers down you, straight to your core.
You maneuver your body to lie on the bed, grateful for the soft blanket on your burning ass, and tip your head off the bed.  Your mouth opens complacently and Jimin shoves his sweats down to reveal his hardened length.
You’re licking your lips like his dick is the finest meal money can buy, and he chuckles.  His left hand strokes it, shivering at the cold press of his wedding ring mixing with the heat of his hand. 
“You want my cock?” He asks.
You nod, captivated with the motion he strokes the shaft.  You almost forget to speak, but his harsh gaze is like a whip.
“Yes! Yes, I want your cock Daddy!”
“Tell me what you want to do to me,” he hums.
Well, this would be too easy.
“I want to suck you dry, let you fuck my throat so I can’t breathe.  I’ll let you cum down my throat and make my face so messy from cum and spit that it gets in my eyes and messes up my pretty makeup, daddy.”
His strokes have become faster, and he sucks in hard for air. “Such a filthy fucking mouth.”
You open said mouth again, letting your tongue hang out like a welcome sign to your throat.
He growls, it’s guttural, and it feels as if it’s positioned on your clit, vibrating the nub.  Your bliss is cut short as he drives his thick dick into your mouth and directly to the back of your throat, leaving you no time to prepare.  You whine slightly around it, and he tsks.
“Don’t you fucking dare whine.  Take it all,” he sounds ruthless and your pussy quakes.
He sets a punishing pace, the tip of his dick ramming through your throat.  It doesn’t take long for it to become messy, saliva trickling from your mouth, falling towards your eyes due to the angle of your supine head.  Jimin sounds angelic, the moans that leave the dancer’s body should be recorded and played for an audience, you think.  You’d suffer through hours of this for the reward of his sweet voice crying out your name.
“Fuck, my little cock slut loves it when I fuck her throat, hmm,” he asks, breathy and harsh.  You nod as much as you can.
“Yeah, that’s right.  You love daddy’s cock, don’t you? You love it when I fucking choke the shit out of you with my fat cock, huh?”
The voice of an angel with the words of the devil himself.  The duality is intoxicating and you are head over heels for both Jimin’s inside of him, every aspect of the man you pledged your life to.
“Mmm, you suck me so good,” he’s groping at your tits through the fabric of your bra.  You’re surprised that it’s still on, but you trust he’s aware and always has a plan.  
“Are you crying, baby?” He asks mockingly.  Tears and saliva mix and your face is completely ruined by it.  You nod again and blink.  “Good, fucking choke on it.” he goes even faster and you’re moaning.  It hurts and the gag reflex is there, but the pain gets you off, and you know the second it became too much, your husband would stop in an instant.  
“Little sluts get their face fucked when they disobey daddy,” he chides, emphasising each word with a thrust.  
It’s as if you’re desperate for his orgasm, wanting nothing more than to swallow every ounce of what he spills into you, clean him up and ask for more.  He won’t have that tonight, it seems, as he’s pulling out of you as quickly as he entered.
“I want to cum in this tight little cunt,” he bites.  You slither up from your position and wipe at your eyes, resting against the pillow after he orders you to remove the bustier.  He asks that you leave the belt and stockings on, however. 
“Spread those pretty thighs for me, baby,” he’s discarded his shirt and is sitting ahead of you, watching you.  His gaze turns you on and opens you up like a flower.
Your thighs are spread far and you lean back further onto the pillows to put the star of the show on display.  You’re coated with your slick; it’s slathered up and down your thighs and dripping onto the duvet below you.  He breathes out in appreciation.
“I think my favorite thing about you is how fucking wet you get for me.”  He’s still not moving and you want to beg him to touch you, please do something, but refrain.  “You feel like a fucking dream when I’m inside you.”
“B-baby,” you break character and freeze, but he ignores it and allows you to continue as you sigh with relief. “I need you.”
“Do you now?” he banters, and you nod with wide, needy eyes.
“Touch yourself for me, then.  Show me how badly you want daddy’s cock in you.”
A hand flies to your cunt in record time and you’re desperately eager to spread the lips of your folds apart and rub at your slick and swollen clit.  A breathy, heady moan escapes you at the friction you’ve been aching for since you sent the sexy photo hours ago. 
“Fuck!” you shout, circling the bud.  Jimin’s eyes are glued to your hands, and he watches with awe. 
“Finger yourself,” he demands and you’re obeying before he’s even finished speaking, two fingers slipping down to enter your channel.  You arch off the bed and grip a breast in your other hand, flicking at the nipple for extra sensation.  
He coos at you as you fuck yourself with wild abandon, gasping his name as you slip deeper with each thrust.  
“Add another.”  His voice maintains its even quality, maintained and cool.  But if you opened your eyes, you’d see that he’s salivating at the sight, desperately restraining himself.  His cock is weeping pre-cum and he could explode in an instant watching this too long.
Your ring finger slips in with the other two and you’re keening at the stretch.  The pain is gone in a flash, just a pinch that simmers to a desperate pleasure.  
“You look so fucking good, baby,” he breaks his composure, momentarily.  He’s so in love with you, every single fucking bit, that he can’t help it.  “God, you’re beautiful.”
His words have you blushing, as if they’re the most lewd part of the evening and not the fact you’re fingering yourself in front of your husband while he watches and orders you around.
“Rub your clit with your other hand, love.”
The pressure of your added hand on your clit and the fingers thrusting into you has you soaring to your high and your throat chokes on the air.  “O-oohhh fuckkk!” You whine.
“You close, baby?  You gonna cum on those cute little fingers and get them messy for daddy?” He asks, voice violently serene.
“Y-yes! Please, I want to cum,” you beg.  You know the rules, he tells you where and when your body receives its pleasure.
“You wanna cum?” He asks again, and you feel a spike of irritation.  He’s already asked you that, haven’t you already answered?
“So badly, daddy! Please! C-close.” Words are escaping your mental capacity now.  You’re there, nearly there, just one little tiny string holding you back from the edge of euphoria.
“Too bad.”  
Your fingers are pulled from your cunt quickly and you’re crying.  Tears are forming in your eyes as you feel an ache deep to your womb.  You had been so close, so deliciously close.  Jimin knows this, thrills at watching you edge further and further through the night.  You won’t admit it at the moment, it’s pure torture then, but the buildup to the finale is indescribable.
“You don’t get to fucking cum until I tell you to cum.  Do you understand me?”
“Yes, yes! Yes, Daddy,” you babble, nearly incoherent from arousal and denial. 
He makes you writhe there, pussy so slick its soaking the blankets and you’ll have to change them later but the only thing you think about is your cunt, your weeping cunt that’s screaming to release. 
You feel your breath slowing and know that Jimin wants you to come back down to earth before he’ll bring you up again.
“Good fucking girl,” he kisses your belly, licking at the navel.  He whispers quiet words of adoration as he trails down your abdomen and end at the top of your mound.  Your legs are shaking, no, they’re nearly convulsing from need.
He spreads your folds, and it’s pornographic the way he spits on your pussy, as if it needs any more wetness.  It’s not about the wetness, though, and you know it.  It’s about the message, the ownership.  
“My favorite little fuck toy,” he murmurs, lightly tracing everywhere but the bud throbbing with need for friction.  “I can’t wait to cum inside this little pussy tonight.  Gonna flood your whole fucking cunt, babe.”
Jimin knows the way to your heart, and the way to your orgasms is through his words.  Gentle whispered ‘i love you’s’ in the day and disgusting filth at night.  It’s just another reason in a list of a million why you work so well together. 
“Should we get you nice and pregnant tonight?  You want to make a baby?”  
You nearly sob at his words.  He can fuck you harder with his words than his cock.
“Please!” You’re yelling, tears streaming down your face. “P-please! I want your baby.”
He leans down and smiles for a moment before speaking. “Well, my little wife will always get what she wants when she asks so nicely.”  His lips attach to your clit, suctioning it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.  It’s swollen and slick, and it feels like fucking heaven.  His plushy lips are working for it, taking you so desperately close to the edge.  
You’re gasping a symposium of his name and praising the ground he walks on.  You’re sure if you died now you’d die a very fucking happy woman.  The world around you is gone, and it’s just Jimin’s sinful mouth suckling at your cunt.
You’re close again, and Jimin knows it.  You’re begging, pleading with him, but it’s useless as he roughly pulls away.
The music continues on in the background.  It’s lighter, and Jimin croons in the speaker as he grunts in your ear.
He muffles your anguished cry with a messy kiss that tastes of you, and he’s thrusting into you.  The slickness guides him in easily and he’s whining against you at the feel of your walls accept him and hugging him tightly as if they’ve missed his cock swelling within them.
“JIMIN!” You’re seeing fireworks as your husband fucks into you, holding you close to him.  It’s as rough and kinky as it is intimate and sweet.  He holds you, cherishes you, while he’s pistoning his thick member into your loud, drenched cunt.  
“I love you,” he whispers, slipping a thumb into your mouth that you suck at eagerly, as skilled with his fingers as you are with his cock.  “I love you so fucking much.”
His eyes align with yours, yours full of tears of absolute unrivaled pleasure, and his with full and never-ending devotion. 
You’re both so close, and you pull him against you to kiss his lips.  You want to connect completely to him as you cum, as he spills into your womb and creates something, someone there. 
Your cunt flutters intensely, quaking in anticipation as it builds and builds and builds.  Jimin breaks the kiss to breathe and warn you, “I’m going to cum soon, baby, please cum with me.”  He’s gentle and sweet, the Jimin who cries at love stories and wears flower crowns now present inside you.  You nod quickly, gasping as the coil winds tighter and tighter.  
Your kissing is messy, passionate, and your hands grasp him everywhere.  You’re tugging at his toned arms and solid back, seeking refuge as the tidal wave grows impossibly high, higher, so so high,
And crashes into you at 100 miles per hour.  Your cunt is contracting and pulsing around him so intensely you nearly black out, crying loudly into his mouth.  He’s groaning with you, the feeling of your already impossibly tight walls clenching down on him demands the orgasm out of him.  He’s cupping your whole face in his hands as he spills into you and your walls suck him in further, so far he could disappear completely.  
It feels as if you orgasm for hours, but it's merely minutes later that you’re trying to catch your breath and slip back into reality.  You’re clinging to each other like last lifelines and the gaze between you is so intense it clenches at your racing heart.  
The silence between you two is long and speaks an entire conversation before your lips even open.  He’s singing so sweetly through the speaker, it sounds like he’s singing directly to you.  “I love you,” you’re whispering to him.
He rubs at your cheeks in his palms, wiping away stray tears of bliss that have slipped down your face.
“I love you.”
You settle into him, unwilling to move a single inch away from your husband, and marvel at the beauty that is your life, your future.  
Jimin holds you close, kisses you gently and sings softly along to the music as you fall asleep, and he adores the fact that he holds his entire world, his future, in his arms.
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© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.
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lettrespromises · 4 years
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l’amour le temps d’un film. - shoto todoroki.
@aydudenoway​ sent a letter : ❝ 🤍✨ can i request an imagine of cuddling fluff with todoroki? like 1A is having a movie night and todo and his s/o are cuddling on the couch with a blanket? the fluffiest fluff ❞
author’s letter :  ❝ dear reader, thank you so much for this request, it’s always a pleasure to write the scenarios you send me and thank you for trusting me, it means the world!! this is so, so, so cute, my heart is melting already. also, i changed the layout of my posts, idk if it’s any better but?? anywhoopsie, i hope you’ll enjoy your promised letter!  sincerely yours, nikki.❞
genre : purest fluff. word count : 1.2k. warning : cursing. (bakugou)
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Living amongst the rest of class 1-A came with its list of traditions. Figuring on said list were mostly trivial things- betting every night on the holy hour when Bakugou would go to sleep (the latest he went to bed was a very sharp 9:21pm and 36 seconds, resulting in Mina’s victory), every Wednesday evening was solely dedicated to self-care and all the girls of class 1-A could always be found in Momo’s room applying masks and listening to their latest musical discoveries and so on. 
Nonetheless, if there was tradition which could gather everyone in the blink of an eye and without missing a beat, said tradition was the highly anticipated weekly movie night held on Friday nights. A strategic day, if you will, as it signed the end of the week and the beginning of the long awaited weekend which directly echoed to sleeping for some, taking some time for theirselves for others or train inexorably for those who knew no rest. 
Every Friday nights was not so different from the previous Friday or the next one. It always started with a screaming match, the unspoken rule of the class was that the person who would scream the loudest would automatically gain the bragging rights to choose the movie. However, Iida was always quick to calm the agitated crowd under the sometimes dubitative but mostly amused stares of the crowd, it came as a second nature to him, after all.
What came as a surprise to absolutely no one, and I dare reiterate myself, no one : Bakugou won the yelling match and imposed the movie of his choosing to the rest of the already petrified class, and I quote, “We’re gonna’ watch a fucking horror movie, you wimps.” And if you were careful enough, after a closer inspection of Kaminari’s face, you could deduce that his soul had already left his body upon hearing Bakugou’s choice. 
You were not particularly fond of horror movies, the gruesome sceneries always left an imprint in the back of your mind which oh so magically reappeared once you would shut your lids close right before to be welcomed into Morpheus’ arms, making it impossible to have the tiniest amount of slumber incorporated in your body. You couldn’t help but mirror Kaminari’s expression once Bakugou’s words connected to your eardrums, already dreading the cinematographic agony which was bound to bloom before your eyes sooner than you could imagine. 
A few of your classmates had already organized an entire artillery to protect themselves from the visuals worthy of anyone’s worst nightmares, under the insults of Bakugou who, and I quote, called them “pussies”- a pillow found itself being the victim of Uraraka’s tight grip against her chest, Ojiro used his tail to its advantage and shielded his orbs from the screen... You, on the other one hand, had the best shield out of all your classmates.
Upon glancing at the personification of said shield sitting right next to you, you noticed that his facial expression didn’t really changed that much and you secretly admired Shoto’s ability to radiate such a serene energy off of him at all times, especially when the first few minutes of the movie had already started.
Your gaze never once left his ever so soft features, and you unconsciously wondered if this was a way to escape from the pseudo reality of the movie. Your gaze lingered, and lingered, and lingered on him. “Love, is there something wrong? Do I have something on my face?” You couldn’t help but bow your lips into a discreet grin, it was his favorite, upon the genuine concerned tone of his interrogation. 
“Oh, it’s nothing to worry about, Sho. How could I say this? I’m not the biggest fan of horror movies...” It was such a trivial confession and yet, you couldn’t find the strength to look at him in the eyes, instead, your eyes darted onto your knees where your hand was resting. “Good thing I’m here then, love. Fret not, nothing will happen to you as long as I’m here.” He concluded his sentence by tracing where your gaze was hinting at, he was quick to cover your hand with his, interlacing your fingers in the process.
“For fuck’s sake, are we watching a horror movie or the new live action of fucking ‘Love Actually’? Shut the fuck up already.” Saying that Bakugou’s voice boomed at your whispers would be stating the obvious, and yet, it happened. Reflex kicked, your hands reached for Uraraka’s martyr of a pillow and threw it in Bakugou’s direction. The dull ‘thud’ echoed in the freezing silence of the room upon realization of your antics, even you, out of all people, wondered where this sudden outburst of confidence came from. 
But before Bakugou could strike back, Iida’s frantic mannerisms saved the day, and possibly your life in the process, “Bakugou, Y/L/N, this behavior is far from exemplary coming from U.A students. Please behave and remain silent.” Upon seeing your distress, from both the movie and the sword of Damocles hunching over your head from Bakugou’s threats, Todoroki knew perfectly you had absolutely no desire to remain here any longer. 
His arms encompassed your waist, a maneuver necessary to carefully bring you on his lap. “Sho, what are you doing?” You whispered while being even more careful about your surroundings and the possible shenanigans of the angry blonde. Once you were steady on his lap, Shoto rested his left hand upon the back of your neck, the latter emanated a divine and comforting heat- ideal to put you asleep. His other hand, however, was still settled on your side. 
“I’m protecting you, from both the movie and Bakugou it seems.” Todoroki angled his left palm in such a way that it caused your head to find shelter in the crook of his neck, your cheek was resting right against his shoulder. The tone of evidence in his voice caused a chain reaction- first, you found yourself having the sweetest smile plastered upon your face, and eventually, a rosy tone spread on the apples of your cheekbones. “Thank you, Sho, you’re so sweet.”
Your voice was enough to make him outburst from joy and affection, if only you knew how much he loved you, and he secretly told himself this everyday upon seeing you first thing in the morning. You felt at peace : Todoroki’s arms were secured around your frame, the blanket pulled over your entangled bodies was a thin yet crucial shield.
“I will never let anything happen to you, not now, not tomorrow, never.” And with that, Todoroki planted a peck in which he had poured every ounce of love and admiration he held in your regard on the flesh of your cheeks. You knew that in his arms, the place you deemed as your home because you felt so safe there, nothing could happen to you- including scary movies and Bakugou’s evil antics.
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no-brand-gays · 3 years
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okay here are my thoughts on and a very loose rating of the discographies of the major idol anime franchises (disclaimer that i haven’t listened to Every Single Song of any of these series and i’m 
-love live: i think...i’d be biased in saying ll has the best idol franchise discography...but i don’t think it’d be a stretch to say that they pour a LOT into their music production. i do think there’s a lot of ll stuf that sounds the same and none of the full groups have a sound that differentiates them from each other but ll’s also good at mixing up sounds and concepts, so there’s no character or unit that’s really locked into just one style. i feel like ll prioritizes catchiness and energy a lot of the time so there aren’t many songs that aren’t fun to listen to, which i definitely think is one of the most important things in idol music. there aren’t even that many bombs which you’d think would mean they play it safe but i don’t think you can talk down the variety in the discography. aki hata is also a lyric writing god and i do think it’s saying something that even 10 years into the run as a series we’re still getting songs that sound new. you can tell when they’re being lazy but that’s a pretty uncommon situation and you’d be damned to find a ll song that isn’t at least fun to listen to. favs: mermaid festa vol 2, blueberry train, angelic angel, snow halation, ps no mukougawa, shoujo ijou, doki pipo emotion
-idolm@ster: before you come at me i want you to know that i have felt this way about idolm@ster’s discography for the last 7 years and my opinion Has gotten better over time but wow. so many idolm@ster songs are so boring. i think one thing you can really say abt love live is they’ve mastered the art of making OPs and EDs and group singles that all kinda sound the same but are still fun to listen to. i think what makes im@s discography good is that they’re not afraid to really jump into weird concepts for their more out-there characters. like what other franchise is delivering to us ai like hamburger. nobody. so those more unique songs are almost always hits but a lot of the generic idol pop songs feel pretty watered down and hard to get into. they do get that right pretty often too but bc their discography has gotten so huge over the years there’s a lot of filler. favs: kyun! vampire girl, do dai, s(mile)ing, romantic now (uzuki mix)
-aikatsu: honestly? i would place aikatsu’s discography at LEAST at 2nd place. they’ve gone through a lot of changes in producers in the last few reboots but there are sooooo many consistent hits and i feel like it gets written off for being a kids series when the music is honestly so top tier. aikatsu doesn’t do big group songs all that often and each season only comes w a few one-size-fits-all generic songs so most of the discography is tailored to one or two characters in particular which makes for some amazing variety. the fact that it’s for kids even means the songs are more catchy and energetic so even the ones that are kinda dumb stick in your head. i don’t know how much i can speak for these past few seasons but you can really feel the passion that went into most of the songs. the general sounds of aikatsu are clean and bright pop and emotional pop rock and theatrical ballads and genuinely i have no clue why the music alone hasn’t made it mega popular. there are definitely duds though, especially when it comes to songs that weren’t made to be performed. favs: diamond happy, koisuru mitai na caramelize, summer tears diary, hello new world, heart skip, dramatic girl 
-pretty rhythm: kinda similar to im@s in that a lot of their music is kinda boring in its early 2000s idol sound but i’d honestly argue that pririzu does that sound better. like it all sounds very nostalgic and classic and gets this quality of timelessness from that. this is probably the franchise i’ve listened to the least though so i’m not the best authority on this. favs: you may dream, cherry picking days
-pripara: pripara is definitely an acquired taste and the franchise i’d be least likely to listen to with my friends in the room but the one thing you can’t deny is that the production is so crazy tight. pripara definitely gets most of its fame for how off the walls crazy it is and since that’s such a part of its identity i can’t fault it for how many songs are similarly whole hog wild but even though i never want to hear the omurice song again in my life pripara has continuously delivered hit after hit. their generic idol songs (like make it and dream parade) are some of the best in the genre and whatever subgenre they’re pursuing they never fail to bring the energy. i do think a lot of their out of the box songs (like the ones that are made for visual-based performances that aren’t really meant to be cohesive songs) are flops but the entire first season is made of 10/10s which is so crazy. the crazy concept songs usually hit too. favs: marble makeup a ha ha, zero week old, suki suki sensor, realize
-bandori: hot take but bandori has some stinkers. i don’t know why the first few months of bandori songs had so many flops (tokimeki experience...yes bang dream...that’s how i roll...) but i do think they’ve stepped up their game since then!! i think...as time has gone by bandori has become a franchise people really care abt and with it the content has gotten better too. like holy shit. NOW you can see how much the producers are putting their hearts into the music but it definitely took a little while (not that there weren’t good songs at the start too, shuwarin dreamin is one of my absolute favorites). i think it’s really impressive how much they’re found their footing w each band’s sound, they all really feel believable as artists, and it’s blown up so clearly they’re hitting it out of the park these days. favs: hidamari rhodonite, kimi ga inakucha, shuwarin dreamin
-bonus shoutout to zombieland saga bc the production is so all over the place. when they wanna write a good song holy shit do they write a good song but sometimes you get To My Dearest. which im still sort of baffled by. could the writers not figure out how to rewrite those 20-syllable lines to sound even half singable or 
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I cannot claim to know about this play more than some others (Ewa Graczyk, Jagoda Hernik-Spalińska, Kazimiera Ingdahl and Maria Janion, in alphabetical order, are the official Horsewomen of the Apocalypse in this topic), with a lot to bring to the table, and so I will sometimes discuss parts of it which are - at the very least at the first glance - absolutely and doubtlessly simple; but  by discussing them I hope to be able to bring into the discussion some new material, new evidence, perhaps - for the contrary of the popular belief.
I remember when I first read the scene between Danton and Robespierre, I was completely mystified, just as Maxime. To somebody who at that point knew nothing about the historical events, the exchange between them was very logical (and everyone knows how hard it is to obtain, especially in a piece of media where the author blatantly favours one of the characters over another). I am very glad then, to be able to say that while Przybyszewska did everything she could to humiliate and belittle Danton in the more visual aspects of the scene - his gestures, movements, actions, mimicry, even the sound of his voice etc.  - she didn't bother making him out to be a complete clown. His arguments are populistic, but that's not necessarily a bad thing when you're n politician aspiring to be even more than that. Perhaps she thought that painting him out to be a weakling would somehow diminish Robespierre's awesomeness, which is a valid concern. For Robepsierre has little left to do in this scene - it is made out to ba a confrontation between them, of sorts, but is it one, really? I don't think so, not for the large part of it. Robespierre comes in, dishes out few sarcastic lines, looks at Danton with disgust and contempt and then crushes him in a yet another sarcastic line and then leaves. There isn't that much he can do not only to participate in the exchange, but to be visually and audially appealing to the audience as a character in a play. And even though we all know staging The Danton Case is a secondary affair, the main thing you can do with it is to read it and ponder over it, when you do stage it, a lot of responsibility rests on the actors recreating the part. Which is why choosing a good actor can, potentially, make all the difference, sometimes going as far as completely changing the way you view the very same scene you read earlier.
I have always assumed by "the same man" they meant Robespierre. It makes some sense in the light of the conversation, altough I have to admit it makes little sense in the light of Robespierre's reaction. The question thus presented to us is: do we go by what is written, do we percieve a play as a piece of fiction in a real world, OR do we immerse ourselves in the fictional world, suspend our disbelief and for a moment treat it as an alternate reality of sorts?
Polish director Jan Klata has managed to put on stage a compelling retelling of The Danton Case and I would like to present to you a scene from his version, which we're lucky enough to have on YT, with translation courtesy of @that-one-revolutionary​. I've seen the play in its entirety: some metaphors were heavy-handed to say the least, some aspects I wish he'd done differently, but all in all, when choosing the main protagonist, the director casted in the role a truly splendid actor (please note that Marcin Czarnik was young. Young! It made all of the difference and it's worth watching if only for that), who brought home some of the points of character of Robespierre's which could have easily been brushed aside in order to highlight some other aspects of the conversation (the most famous example of this would be the very same scene from Wajda's movie, where the appealing and in all aspects imposing Gerard Depardieu dominantes the scene, thus presentign it in a very different ligt). While it can be read as a political statement, or a match of two great personalities, or a display of cunning on either part, Klata (or Czarnik; it's hard for me to say what the director tried to do with it, a lot of Robespierre's quirks, mimicry, gestures etc. seemed to come directly from the actor, which I can only say because I've seen him in other things and that's sort of his style of acting; all in all, I'll try to treat this not as a discussion over this particular staging, because for that I lack needed data, but it's unavoidable in the long run at least at some points, so please bear that in mind) treats the conversation itself as a minor thing in comparision to what is going on in Maxime's mind at the moment.  Just look at this: there is no significance brought into their meeting, no change of the scenery, nothing indicates this meeting is special in any way. The logical conclusion is, then:  it's not special. Both Danton and Robespierre seem to treat this as a step which cannot be avoided, but which bears no great weight either. The only reason they agreed to make this step altogether is - for "the same man". For Camille.
I do think Przybyszewska's intention was actually to disguise Maxime under this vague title. If this is a play about love - as I will always state it is - she wanted to underline the fact some people will be hatefully loved by those who are beneath them, who have nothing whatsoever in common with the object of their affection simply because the loved one is so great, so genius, so shining and bright it is impossible not to love them. I think this is the relationship between Danton and Robespierre (that is, on Danton's part) up until this point in the play. Danton idolizes Robespierre against his will (against both of their wills, really), because Robespierre is truly made out to be a demi-god at the very least. If you could team up with a hero like this, you should. So Danton goes through a humiliating process of trying to reconcile with Maxime, because humiliation, if everything paid off in the end, would be worth it. That Robespierre doesn't reciprocate the affection is simply a further proof that he is above Danton in every way.
Klata-Czarnik duo seems to have gone into another, subtler direction though. The man that both politicians make an exception for seems to be Camille, moreso because Robespierre loves him than because Danton has any special feelings for him. What is his relationship with Camille, anyway? They are cordial enough, but always a bit on the edge, and we know that Danton doesn't know everything that Camille thinks and feels in regards to Robespierre, mostly because he doesn't care that much, but also because he is characterised as a brute, and this simply goes above his head, it's too subtle, too delicate of a feeling for him to know it. It is also clear he knows Camille pretty well, but he doesn't know his soul, so to say. Therefore, he cannot actually love him, not to the point to make him the one and only excpetion from his otherwise coldly and precisley calculated plans.
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Is there, however, a scenario in which Camille could be Danton's exception? Yes, when it becomes more about Robepierre than about Camille. When Camille is sort of offered as a mean to lure Robepierre in. Danton could make this exception only if it meant getting what he wanted (which is later mirrored by his blatant admission that the only reason he lets Camille take the fall with him is to deny Robespierre any joy in life after this point).
Robespierre, however, doesn't see it this way. He actually makes the exception for Camille and I think Danton's words – whatever he means by them, whichever interpretation we think is correct – put him on alert, for the fear of having his secret discovered. In the video linked above it is even more than that – once Robespierre hears Danton indirectly name "the same man", he gets aggressively defensive. For him to have someone like Danton talk almost openly about what he treats as his personal secret (a secret that Danton, being in great familiarity with Camille, could potentially know for certain) is equal with defiling it. I have violated your secret. Do you know what he says in the original? I have raped your secret. It really brings into the focus how much “the secret” needs to be protected, and how much it will hurt Maxime once it’s uncovered and destroyed.This is what he fears pretty much for the entirety of the conversation, his suspiscion somewhat confirmed when Danton says: No catchphrases, Robespierre. I know you.
As I mentioned earlier, the shift in my reading of the scene was prompted by the video. It is worth observing what exactly does Robespierre do when mentioing Camille by surname – he gets visibly more upset, he ponders for a split second for the best way to talk about him. His choice of words is interesting as well:
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Both translations here are poor and I quite like what that-one-revolutionary did with it. "Katarynka" is a music-box, so "an instrument" fits much better (not to mention the obvious English connection to the phrase "play like a fiddle", which is adequate here). A parrots is after all a living being, something with a will of its own, if steered by more powerful handlers. But admitting that Camille, from his own free will decided to go against Maxime and everything that Maxime believes in is much harder for Robespierre than calling him an inanimate object, which can be unwittingly used by people with their own agenda. That leaves Camille almost blameless, perhaps careless and foolish, but not responsible fo anything that has transpired.Calling him names serves another purpose as well, which is to steer away the suspiscion that Robespierre protects Camille becuase he cares about him in a special way. He knows there are Danton's accomplices turning ears by the door, so he doesn't want to give himself away with his care and concern.
Ultimately, what do you believe, whom do you think they were referring to I think says a lot about what you think about Maxime's state of mind at the time. Danton's too, though, it can be used as a litmus test whater or not you believe he was honest in idolising Robespierre and offering him his adoration and obedience. In some stagings it will be presented as true, in some as a lie, and that's the beauty of adapting a piece of literature, there are so many options, all blooming from the same roots.
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bastardtetsu · 3 years
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{day 03} people will say we’re in love | kuroo x reader
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pairing: kuroo tetsuro x f!manager!reader
genre: fluff, friends to lovers, confession
wc: 1.2k
warnings: f!reader, a tiny bit of swearing, soft k*roo being a jackass as usual
⍋⋆*❅。. 25 days of fic-mas mlist .。❅*⋆⍋
don’t sigh and gaze at me your sighs are so like mine your eyes mustn’t glow at mine people will say we’re in love
—people will say we’re in love; oklahoma! (music & lyrics by rodgers & hammerstein)
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the first few times it happened you just played it off. people assume incorrectly all the time, and you honestly couldn’t blame them for assuming that the handsome young man you seem to be around all the time is your boyfriend. besides, it was easy enough to explain that he’s actually just the (incessantly annoying) captain of the boys volleyball team you manage, whom you have no romantic feelings for whatsoever.
that is, until that stopped being entirely true.
you’re not sure when it started, but you began to realize when you noticed that benign misunderstanding starting to fluster you more and more each time. there’s a reason people always mistake you for a couple, after all: kuroo not only dotes on you, but he is shamelessly flirting every moment he’s around you, even when you negate his flattery with exasperation - which just makes you seem even more like an old married couple
of course, being flirty and teasing is just a part of kuroo’s personality, so it’s not like that makes you special, and what might look like fondness towards you is actually just him sucking up to his manager for extra gym time. but, it’s enough to get you thinking about what it would be like if you were really together like that, and once you start thinking about it, you find it hard to stop.
you still try, though, reminding yourself that getting romantically involved with the captain of the team you’re managing is messy and unprofessional, and you don’t even know if he has any feelings like that anyway. this is all just a joke that’s been blown way out of proportion.
at least, that’s what you try to tell yourself when the same convenience store clerk mistakes kuroo for your boyfriend the 3rd time this week.
“why does she keep doing that??” you huff in frustration once you’re out the door, “how many times am i gonna have to explain that we’re not dating?”
“people sure do that a lot, huh?” kuroo muses, “i wonder why.” your face burns at his provocative tone.
“well it’s not my fault,” you retort defensively, “you’re the one who’s always doing shit, like—“
“like what?” he challenges, smirking down on you with an entertained look in his eye. you glare back at him.
“well first off, maybe don’t throw flowers at me in front of the entire cheering squad at a game.”
“those were from the team!”
“hush. you could also lay off sucking up to my family—“
“whoa. if you’re trying to get between me and your mom’s cooking right now we’re gonna have a huge problem.”
“that’s not the—ugh,” you groan, your exasperation mounting, “just stop acting so in love with me, okay? don’t laugh at my jokes or look at me all lovey-dovey like you do, just cut it out so people will quit suspecting things!”
there’s a brief pause as your words hang in the air. kuroo cocks his head.
“who laughs at your jokes?”
you deliver a hard smack against his chest with your bookbag.
“hey!!” he cries, “not fair! you know, some might say that you’re just as much to blame as i am.”
“excuse me?” you glare at him.
“what about the time you went out of your way to bake my favorite dessert?”
“i made that for the team,” you protest.
“or the time you made me carve our initials into a tree like we were a couple?”
“ok yeah, but i didn’t ask you to draw a HEART around them!”
“well what other shape was i supposed to draw?? an octagon!?”
“GOD you’re hopeless,” you groan. just then, you begin to feel raindrops start to come down. kuroo notices too.
“i’ve got an umbrella,” he says, pausing to rummage through his book bag. you stand there waiting for him as the rain begins to fall, dampening your hair and jacket.
he finally finds the umbrella, popping it open and holding it out for you first.
“you shouldn’t wait in the rain for me if you don’t want people suspecting things,” he purrs.
“shut up,” you jab, subconsciously taking his arm as you attempt to fit both of your bodies underneath the small umbrella.
“probably shouldn’t do that either,” he grins impishly, glancing down at your hand gripping the crook of his elbow. you just roll your eyes, trying to hide your embarrassment but keeping your hand firmly in place.
as the two of you continue your walk home together, the breeze picks up as the rain continues. you rub your hands together, starting to feel chilly. kuroo notices, just like he always notices everything.
“here,” he says, moving his free hand to wrap it around your cold fingers. you can feel your face flush and your heart speed up at the loving gesture. ordinarily his hands aren’t much warmer than yours, but this time you could swear you feel some sweat on his palm as he heats you with his touch.
“i guess this should probably be off limits too,” he says, “you know. if we don’t want people saying things.”
“it— it’s ok,” you mutter hesitantly, “this feels nice.”
“yeah,” he almost whispers, hoping you don’t notice the heat rushing to his own face as he musters up the courage to say what he’s thinking next. “i don’t mind when people say those kinds of things, you know.”
“huh?” you look up at him, stunned.
“like when they think that we’re dating,” he says, “i don’t mind— i guess, um, i wouldn’t mind—if it were true.”
your heart skips a beat. you can see the flush of pink dusting his cheeks now that you’re looking at him straight-on, even though his own eyes are currently glued to the pavement. your hand is still enveloped in his, the warmth now permeating much more than just your hand.
“i… don’t think i’d mind either,” you utter in the smallest voice possible.
it’s loud enough to get kuroo’s attention, though. his head jerks up to meet your gaze, eyes incredulous.
“what was that?” he presses.
“i— i wouldn’t mind either,” you repeat a little louder. his eyes are practically glowing now.
“y/n,” he breathes, “you… want me to be your boyfriend?”
holding your breath, you gather the strength to look him in the eyes. all you can manage is a tiny nod.
this is enough for him though, his face lighting up in an uncontrollable grin. he takes a deep breath, then, lifting his head up and out,
“HEY!!! IF ANYONE OUT THERE CAN HEAR ME, I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT Y/N IS MY GIRL!!!!”
“tetsu—“
“SHE WANTS ME TO BE HER BOYFRIEND!!!!”
“KUROO!! shut the hell up, they’ll hear you all the way in miyagi!”
“let ‘em.” he turns his gaze back to you, grinning as his strong hand squeezes around yours, having never left its place.
you can’t help but smile back at him. despite your embarrassment, the feeling of that hand intertwined with yours is enough to assuage any concerns of what other people might say.
as long as you can keep holding onto him, nothing else matters.
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a/n: aight this was absolutely one of my favorites to write for multiple reasons: the first is obviously that i am a big simp for the rooster head man. but i am also a big simp for the sexy 2019 oklahoma! revival and its entire company - ESPECIALLY damon daunno, whose interpretation of curly fits kuroo’s character so well it makes me sick, and could also make me c*m untouched with just his voice. seriously. i am begging you to click on the linked songs at the top of the post (i kinda combined the song with its reprise in act ii for this fic - i suggest listening to both for the full experience) you will thank me i promise. if you want visuals i like this concert performance they did - there’s no staging, but you’ll get to see damon daunno (warning: he is as hot as he sounds) and rebecca naomi jones (equally hot, unfortunately) and that should be enough to ruin your life for now. i’m not even gonna bother linking any performances or recordings that aren’t the 2019 revival, no other version of oklahoma! exists in my mind. n e wayz sorry this author’s note was so long lmao i am very passionate about this one, but i hope you enjoyed it too <3
taglist: @izagraceee @musicgetsmeoutofbed @azo-musxas @tsumurai
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adamwatchesmovies · 2 years
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The Artist (2011)
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If you haven’t seen The Artist, you’re missing out. While some of the numerous awards it won may be tied to its veneration of old Hollywood, this could easily be your new favorite. Yes it’s in black-and-white, yes it’s silent and features artists you probably haven’t heard of, but this is no vanity project and neither is it artsy for art’s sake. This picture is a glowing example of the way limitations breed creativity. When it comes to its visuals, storyline, acting, and writing, it stuns.
Beginning in 1927, the story follows silent film star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) and his faithful dog Jack. George is on top of the world when suddenly, a new innovation in technology threatens his stardom: sound. As he struggles to adjust to a changing world, a young actress, Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo) rises through the Hollywood ranks.
I have tremendous admiration for this film. Not only because it’s gutsy to make a silent, black-and-white picture. I respect it for the clever way it shapes its story, how it takes what should be a handicap and makes it a strength. What better way to immerse you in the setting than to make a film that looks and feels authentic to the period?
Director Michel Hazanavicius (who also wrote the film) makes The Artist so much more than the sum of its parts. The picture’s intertitles (the cards that appear with the dialogue being spoken) are a great example. Modern cinematic techniques mean there are very few but what's happening is unmissable due to the performances, uses of music, zooms, the way the shots are framed. What percentage of conversation do experts say is non-verbal again? So it makes sense that you don't really need to hear or read the words said; you just need to see how it impacts the characters. This film is about the performances and the story, not the dialogue.
When we get intertitles, they're cleverly used. Think about any mystery novel. How often does the author deliberately leave information out to enhance the story? You’ll read something akin to “Through the ventilation grate, he heard a voice say ‘Your day has come now Johnny’ and then, a gunshot”. In a movie, that scene wouldn’t work. The killer's voice would give their identity away. In a silent picture, that kind of trick works. The Artist takes full advantage of its medium in a way other films wish they could.
Most importantly, this is a terrific comedy, a poignant drama, and a romance that makes you fall in love with the characters. The actors have so much charisma they don’t need to say anything. As soon as you see Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo together, you know there’s something special there. It may be in black-and-white but there’s a full color wheel of emotions to savor.
It’s a story that gets better upon repeat viewings. After the conclusion, you reconsider a slew of the other scenes before them, giving you a whole new insight into the characters. I remember working at the video store when The Artist was released on home video. I recommended it to everyone looking for a love story, a comedy, or something different. I remember my heart breaking when someone who couldn’t have been more than 10 years my senior said “it’s probably a movie my dad would like, but not me”. It breaks my heart even more, having just re-watched it. There’s not one element of The Artist that makes it for a niche audience. This is a universal film anyone can enjoy. (On Blu-ray, September 23, 2016)
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