#I can excuse character attacks but calling me ugly is where I draw the line

[ronsenburg]

last night I dreamt that my therapist was berating me for having an (in dream) affair. and I was sitting there, accepting all her criticism, agreeing with her points covering what a terrible person I was, until she told me I was a 3 and had no business associating with an 8. then I got up and left.

[h2bakugou]

hello! May I please have a Dabi x fem reader in the lov who likes to draw? I think she finds his scars and stuff to be a work of art in itself and is like (oh heck I gotta sketch this). He glances at what she’s drawing and she gets all flustered! Maybe he even takes his shirt off at one point which can lead to some other things~ (I like smut but if you think fluff fits the prompt better that’s alright with me!) Thank you and I love your writing!

a/n: hii! of course love! this is super sweet omg i love dabi, i feel like i dont capture his character very well but imma try like hell😩😩this is probably ooc for him but it’s sappy and i love it

summary: dabi’s hard to read, but that doesn’t stop you from sketching him. you find beauty in his flaws, entranced by his scars, so much so that dabi can’t help but be interested in you.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, sappy romance bc i love this man, some spicy themes, one mention of a slight(possible? idrk what counts) manga spoiler (e.g. dabi’s past/history) (manga spoilers in tags!!)

wordcount: 2k

;cut due to suggestive themes;

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

It’s never been a really big secret that you liked drawing. But when it comes to working for the league, specifically, the League of Villains, your line of work doesn’t allow for very much downtime unless you’re in the midst of planning some sort of attack or rebellion.

Whether or not the league keeps hopping from rendezvous spot to rendezvous spot isn’t up to you, but you never fail to get a little used to the eerily calming silence that falls upon the league during the first twenty-four hours of the new four walls that seem to keep you safe for the time being.

With a barely sharpened pencil in your hand, a small drawing pad in the other, you’re staring at Dabi as you sketch him.

It started as a bit of a joke, maybe just teasing him since he liked to tease you about being into him since you were the only one he was really super close, if you could call being the first one he spoke to every time he saw you or the one you sought out to be paired up with during missions, ‘super close.’

But now, it was something you enjoyed.

Dabi was one among the very interesting members of the league. Something about his scars just seemed to entrance you. Pulling you in further and further down a rabbit hole of questions that you had but never let leave past your lips.

It felt wrong to ask, not that it was a bad thing to be curious, but because Dabi was just so mysterious. No one knew anything about him, or about who he was, his past, even his real name was a mystery. 

It felt wrong to disturb the unnerving peace that was Dabi. The resting expression on his features balancing on a thin cable between anger and poor personal resilience.

Dabi’s scars were the highlight of your sketches, always standing out. What the others may have thought to be ugly, or unattractive, you thought were beautiful, and emotional.

There was a story behind them, one you wanted to know, one you wanted to uncover and read, page by page, line by line, and word for word, discovering just how truly deep Dabi’s past was. But only Dabi could show you that, only Dabi could open that book for you. And you were willing to wait. You’d wait an eternity if you had too.

His rough raven hair is messy and strewn about as you scribble down his facial features, the groggy lighting making it just a tad difficult to see as you lead the pencil over the warm white paper littered with graphite covered fingerprints.

His arms are positioned on a counter, the art work resembling how he was sitting sloped against the kitchen table, elbows pressed against the dark mahogany wood, hands resting by his mouth as his cerulean eyes peer off at the cracked cement wall in front of him, occasionally glancing back at you.

The other members of the league were scattered about but it didn’t bother you. Toga asked you a couple of questions, wondering what you were doing, if you were excited about the new plans and such.

You replied quietly as to not disturb the peace.

But soon some of the members left, going off to go eat or find something to do. And soon you were among the few left behind, along with Dabi, Shigaraki and Mr. Compress.

Having almost finally finished your current sketch, you were stopped by a pair of hands picking up your drawing pad. Rough and calloused fingers drew your pad away and your attention away.

“Hey I’m not finished.” You glanced up at Dabi. Dabi just admired the talent poured into the sketch. Dabi couldn’t wrap his head around why you drew him so often, but he didn’t mind. It was kind of touching in a way.

“Is that really what I look like?” Dabi joked, handing you back your sketch pad.

“You have looked in a mirror once before, right?” You titled your head to the side, adding a bit more detail to his scars as you began to draw again. 

“A few times. But I’d rather look at you, doll.” Dabi’s hands reached down again, this time pulling at your hands. Leading you out of the room where the other two members sat, finding a way to entertain themselves, Dabi lead you up some stairs in questionable condition.

Picking a random room, he sat down on the rickety bed and waited for you to sit down.

“Why’s that?” You tease, returning to drawing, looking up at him every few seconds to reference. And to admire him.

“You’re easy on the eyes, beautiful and-”

“Are you saying you’re not beautiful, Dabi?” You stopped him, not pausing to look at him.

“I’m not beautiful, I’m gorgeous.” Dabi chuckled, shaking his head jokingly as he laid back against the bed, his head dangling off the opposite end.

“You are.” You confirm. Finally finishing up your sketch. You get up and walk over to him, handing him the finished sketch. 

“You add so much detail to my scars. They’re just scars.” The tips of Dabi’s ears flush as heat floods to his face. He’s flustered but he won’t admit it. He can’t understand why you think he’s so beautiful.

You don’t speak. For the first time, you’re speechless. You sit down beside Dabi, and now that he’s sitting up, he faces you.

You reach your hands out and gently lift one of his arms, holding one of his hands in your own. You run your fingers across the scarred flesh, gently caressing his skin. 

His hands are cold compared to your warm fingers. He’s getting chills all down his spine as you touch him. It’s not meant to be anything out of the ordinary, but he’s still shocked that he’s letting you touch him.

“Your scars are beautiful. I’m sure there’s a story, something about them that might make you hate them, but I love them, and I think they make you that much more beautiful. You are a masterpiece, every scar a carefully calculated brushstroke on a beautiful canvas.” Your words finally come out, overflowing with love. You can’t sit quietly anymore.

“Dabi you are beautiful.” Your eyes lock with his, and you can tell he’s unsure of what to do. 

Dabi no longer felt he had the ability to cry, but if he’d let himself, he would’ve done it in that moment. Being so open and vulnerable around you just happened. It came too easily, and he hated it, but he loved you.

Pulling his arm away form your warm touch, he tossed his jacket off and to the side before tearing his shirt away from his body, allowing you to see his chest, and more of his scar covered skin.

Sitting quietly with a faint blush on your cheeks, you couldn’t look away. trying to avoid staring directly at his toned chest and his nipples, you raised your hand and allowed your fingers to sink down across his sternum.

Soon your fingers were met with his abs, which the heat on your face noticed far too well. 

“Say it again.” Dabi mumbled. You lifted your head to look into his eyes again, your hand still resting against his chest.

“You are beautiful-” The moment the words left your lips, Dabi’s own lips were pressed against yours. Kissing you roughly, more than he intended too, his hands mangled into yours, pushing your arms over your head.

His heart was pounding and it felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest onto yours. Pulling away for a few seconds, Dabi’s hair covered his eyes as he looked down, finding interest in the collar of your shirt.

“I want you.” Dabi’s words were simple, but they didn’t have to be complex. You knew what he meant, and you knew what he wanted. You wanted it too. A chance to see him in a different light, with deeper meaning.

A chance to connect with him, one on one. 

“Then take me.” Your fingers intertwined with his, your arms still resting above your head. It didn’t take long for his lips to magnetize back to yours, sticking to them like glue.

When Dabi thought about sex, he didn’t come anywhere close to making love. There wasn’t that sort of option when it came to him. He didn’t think he was at all capable of love, let alone a relationship that was going to have any sort of emotional connection strong enough to make him feel stable.

But you, you were so vastly different from anyone he’d ever fucked. So different from an excuse to get his dick wet, to get his mind off of league business or heaven forbid, his past.

But you, you were what he needed, what he wanted. It was far from therapy, but it’d work. Having you around was like a drug, addicting, and he’d be going through withdrawals if he couldn’t have you.

Feeling you, touching you, fucking you, kissing you, it was fuel to his fire. He was damaged goods, broken and shattered, impossible to put together, but you were doing your best, working on the smallest parts, exercising precautions, and opening your heart to him.

Hearing his name in the form of your moans as he rutted into you, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips drove him wild, much like the way your hands tangled into his hair, forcing his head into your chest where he kissed and sucked on your skin, leaving marks.

Your moans and his own grunts of pleasure were spewing from the locked room. Dabi didn’t care if the others heard, he was enjoying the moment.

Every part of it. Every part of you, every part of your body, your words, your love. And before he knew, Dabi was at his highest, his face flush against your naked chest, breathing heavily as he inhaled your scent.

Still inside you, he didn’t move, allowing the two of you to catch your breath. It was in this moment, if Dabi allowed himself to cry, he would’ve cried a second time. He was so infatuated with you, so attached.

“I love you.” Your words scared him, causing his cerulean eyes to peak at you through locks of his noir hair.

“That’s stupid.” Dabi kissed your sternum, kissing up your chest, stopping at your neck to leave a little mark, only to meet at your lips in the end.

“How?” You ask softly, your hands massaging his scalp as his lips hover over yours.

“I can’t explain it, it just is.” Dabi frowned, trying to understand what your eyes were saying as they clouded with emotion.

“Love is complex, and I think that maybe you’ve never really had good experiences with it. If you’d let me, I could show you just how beautiful it can be.” You offer, a small smile on your lips.

“If you feel the need-”

“I do. I love you, and I want you to know love.” You kissed his forehead. Dabi eventually pulled out, not minding the mess, he’d clean up later. 

“I want you to know why I love you.” You whispered, hugging him closer to you.

“Why I love your scars, your hands, your strength, the rasp in your voice, all of it. I love.” Dabi’s arms are strung over your waist as he lays, face nuzzled in your neck. It’s a bit of a stretch for him, and he feels out of place, but it’s oddly comfortable.

The next couple of times you draw Dabi, you ask to see him shirtless again. And with every new sketch, there’s something new to be learned, for Dabi. He’s learning about love, and loving you. 

He finds that you still draw him incredibly cute, and though he won’t admit it, he loves when you draw him. He’ll pose for you if you ever ask, and you always tease him a little about how it was like he was born to be a model.

It’s a long road ahead of you, but it’s one you’re willing to take, to show Dabi just how important love is.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[wish-that-i-was-buckys-girl]

A/N: Hello again! This is apart of my pop song series with Sebastian Stan Characters. This one is Mob! Charles Blackwood and the reader. It is based off the song “my boy” by Billie Eilish. I figured the song would be perfect for this character and this trope. Specifically the line “my boys and ugly crier, but he’s such a pretty liar and by that I mean, he said he’d change.” There are other lines that fit as well but this one stuck with me the most. I hope you enjoy :)

Summary: Your boyfriend is a mob boss. He’s always working and you’re always worried. You never get the attention you deserve, will he be willing to change his ways for you?

My Boy Part 1

(Not my gif)

You hated living in Chicago. Well, hate was a strong word. You hated where you lived in Chicago. You couldn’t walk to the tourist attractions to distract yourself from being home alone all day long. You loved the museums, and your boyfriend Charles always gave you money to take a cab and treat yourself as you’d like, but you preferred to walk.

You loved to visit the Museum of Natural History and the Aquarium. You’ve seen them a million times, but you couldn’t get enough of the vast amounts of information it held. You would sit in front of the dinosaur exhibit for hours, wander the Egyptian exhibit until they closed, and do it all over again the next week.

You also didn’t hate your home in Chicago, if you would even it call it a home. It was a beautiful house, just empty. You didn’t like to call your home a mansion, even though it was. Unlike Charles, you were humble when discussing your possessions. However, all the marble countertops and comfy furniture in the world wouldn’t make up for the deafening silence that filled the halls every day.

You weren’t afraid of the city. Your boyfriend practically ran it, that’s what he told you anyways. You would believe it, too. Charles never stated exactly what he did for a living, but you picked up on his endeavors by the second month of the relationship. That’s when he stopped giving you the proper amount of attention, and stayed out all hours of the day and night. You overheard phone calls of an angry man demanding his money by the next Friday, sometimes even threatening men’s families. You knew it was all wrong, but you just couldn’t believe that Charles, your Charlie, would ever do something like that. You thought, or at least hoped, they were all empty threats. You didn’t know what you would do if you found out they weren’t.

You knew being involved with the mob was dangerous, leaving you to worry every hour of every day when Charles wasn’t with you. Would he be killed if a deal didn’t go right? You hated being left alone with your thoughts. Not to mention you missed your boyfriend. What time you did spend together made you so incredibly happy. You were his princess, and he would always take care of you to the best extent. Draw you a bath, rub your back, give you tiny kisses all over your body. He was a completely different man at home. You figured none of the “guys” have or will ever see this side of him. He would probably get harassed out of town if they did see the way he treated you.

Those days are few as far between. You were at your wits end, begging him to stop the deals, lies, and even potential murder of families. You were scared. Not only for your life but especially his. He would always tell you the same thing.

“I promise I’ll stop baby, please, you just gotta let me finish this one deal.”

“Babydoll, you know I’m gonna quit, just be patient for me okay? Can you be a good girl?”

“Princess I have to take care of you. How am I gonna take care of you if I lose my job? I want the best for you sweetheart, please just give me more time to make arrangements for us.”

You were tired of the lies, tired of waiting around for the day he would finally choose you over his job. This was the last straw. When he came home tonight (like he said he was going to) this would be the last time you asked him to choose you. If he gave you another bullshit excuse, you were going to walk out the door and never look back.

_______________________________________________

Charles returned home from his “job” at an ungodly hour, 3AM to be exact. You stayed up to confront him. You didn’t care how long you had to stay up, only compromising that if it reached noon the next day, he probably wasn’t coming home for a while.

He was surprised to see you awake, his face turning from confusion to anger.

“Babydoll what are you doing up this late?”

“Waiting for someone important to get home. Aren’t you excited to see me?”

He knows he needs to control himself.

“I am irritated, but of course I’m excited to see you. You should be getting to bed. Cmon, I’ll come join you. We can watch your favorite Disney movie.” He says enticingly.

You were tempted, daydreaming of going upstairs to cuddle and watch Y/F/M. You needed to stay strong though. Confront him with the truth.

He begins to turn on his heel and make his way up the staircase.

“No, Charles. We need to talk.”

He rolls his eyes with his back still facing towards you. He puts a smile on his face before he whips around. “Why on earth do we need to talk Angel? I thought you would be happy to see your daddy...”

You were. You were practically bursting at the seams, wishing you could run up to him and shower him in hugs and kisses. You loved him so much, but you needed to set your limits. You deserved to be happy.

“I miss you. You’re never here. I feel like all I do is ask you to stay when you come home. You always promise me that you will ‘eventually.’ When will that day come Charles? When will you give me the love that you promised?”

He looked like a wounded animal as you spoke to him. He looks at you with what seems like confusion, hurt, and disappointment. You couldn’t tell if that disappointment was targeted at himself or you.

“I-, baby you know I love you. Why would you say that I don’t give you the love that I promised? Of course I’m going to quit this job. I already have a job lined up in Connecticut. We can stay with my cousins. I just need to finish up one more deal. Can you wait for me sweetness? Can you be a good girl and wait for your daddy to finish his last and only job?”

You heard that lie too many times. Empty promises. When will it end?

“I’m done” you whisper.

He comes closer to you.

“...what?”

“I’m done Charles. I can’t do this anymore with you.” You feel the hot tears brimming in your eyes.

“Y/N, please, please don’t leave me. I need you.” His eyes seem to also tear up, but you don’t notice. You needed to get out of here. You needed to leave.

You started to make strides to the door. You’d worry about the finer details later. Collecting your clothes didn’t feel as important in the moment.

He grabbed your arm.

You finally looked at him. He was a wreck. Tears flooding his red cheeks. You hadn’t noticed but his hair looks like it had been demolished by his hands.

“Please, Y/N. I love you. We’ll leave tonight.”

“Is this a promise you’re willing to keep?”

He nods quicker than you expected.

“I’ll do anything for you, my love.”

You were unsure. You wondered why he caved so fast after begging him Was it truly love that was motivating him?

“This is it Charles. If this is just another empty promise for us to move back here, I’m done. I love you but I can’t keep putting myself out there like this. I shouldn’t feel alone in a relationship. I need to feel loved and appreciated.”

“And you’ll get it.” He comes over to cup your cheeks in his hands. “You’re the only damned thing I care about.” He kissed you deeply. He captured your lips with his. You always loved how his kisses were so inviting. You kissed back with as much ferocity, wanting to truly believe this was going to be the start of the rest of your life.

_______________________________________________

Two hours into driving to the promised mansion in Connecticut, Charles actually keeping his promise.

Charles was a foolish man, in trade and deals, but not foolish enough to lose you.

He knew you were the only thing that mattered. Although leaving with unfinished business could pose potential danger to not only him, but you as well, he was willing to take that risk to keep you.

Your head felt amazing on the cold window of Charles’ red Camaro. Your head had been throbbing since crying a little over two hours ago when you thought you would lose your boyfriend to his “job.” Thankfully, he chose you. Crying, however, exhausted you beyond belief. All you wanted to do was rest. This is probably why you wouldn’t notice the subtle details that would lead to you and Charles’ demise just hours ahead.

You looked over at Charles briefly, his eyes firmly on the road, determined to take you both to your final destination. There was no hint of regret swimming in his eyes, only pure joy thinking of the beautiful life you two would share. This euphoria is probably why Charles’ wouldn’t notice the subtle details that would lead to his and your demise just hours ahead.

You reached over and took his free hand in yours. The touch was electric. Even though you were in a car traveling 65 miles an hour, this was home.

_______________________________________________

In the moments of euphoria both you and Charles were experiencing, you didn’t notice the van following you since you left Chicago. What Charles failed to mention to you about his job was that he was in debt. A lot of debt. Charles would repay these debts by collecting from other people who had yet to pay his boss as well, and if they couldn’t, he was asked to “take care of them.” Charles refused to hurt the persons family, but had no other choice when it came to the individual who owed the debt. Especially if he wanted to keep his own life, and his sweet girl.

What you didn’t know was that your life had been threatened many of times. On your walks to the museums there were always men watching you, waiting to attack if Charles refused to take on a mission. Thankfully that hadn’t happened, until now.

Sam, his boss, only had two more missions for Charles when he decided to skip town with you. However, Sam was not pleased to find out Charles wouldn’t be finishing what was owed to him. Due to Charles’ ignorance, Sam had no other option than to send 4 men after the pair. They would slowly tail behind them on the highway, making sure not to lose them. Even if they did, Sam knew Charles’ license plate number and other information that would ultimately lead the boys to them. They were surprised neither of you stopped for gas or a snack, but the time would come when they would spring into action.

_______________________________________________

You woke up from your brief nap to see you had pulled into a gas station with Charles. He smiled at you lovingly.

“Good morning sleepyhead. I’m gonna go fill the car with gas and get us some snacks. Is there anything you want?”

“Can I just have some sweet tea and a bag of chips? Any kind is fine. I’m not too hungry right now.”

“Of course, Angel. I’ll be right back okay?”

You nodded as he planted a kiss to your forehead. You shut your eyes as Charles went in to pay the teller and grab you your snacks.

You were startled by your door ripping open, two men standing there with a gun pointed directly at your face.

“Don’t make a sound, and get out of the car” the first one spoke. You unbuckled your seatbelt quietly and got out of the car. The other pointed a gun to your back as you stood there, praying Charles would see through the window to come and rescue you at any moment.

“Go to the van and get in. If you scream, I shoot. We both don’t want that, now do we?” The second one said.

You shook your head no, holding back a waterfall of tears. You did as you were told. Immediately as you got in you were blindfolded and held down. Your arms and legs were wrapped with duct tape, your mouth being covered as well. Before you knew what was going on the van started abruptly, racing out of the parking lot.

Charles had noticed the van pulling up behind them, but didn’t think anything of it. He just assumed it was a family who needed to stop and grab stuff on their way to or from an airport for a family vacation. However, he became skeptical as five minutes rolled past and no one came in for anything. Why would someone just pull into a parking lot and sit there? He suddenly got an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach, putting down all the snacks he had gathered up until that point. He told the attendant he would be back as he quickly ran outside to see if something had happened. And indeed, something had.

You were gone.

[bigskydreaming]

I have a question. In one of your recent posts, you said that trigger warnings come from a place of obligation and not true caring. I agree with you that a lot of the time, that’s true. Which can be concerning. But my question is that at the end of the day, does the person’s reasoning matter? Maybe they’re an awful rude person but if they’ve tagged their stuff, made it easy to see what’s gonna be in the fic, doesn’t that still help? Even if coming from a rude place. The end result is good

Well sure, any time a trigger warning is a benefit to someone, it doesn’t really matter what the reasoning for making it was. Absolutely.

My point there was the problem is one of priorities, and approach. And bottom line, a person who is only tacking on expected trigger warnings out of a sense of covering their own ass, like......they’re not ever likely to be examining their own work with an eye towards the kinds of negative effects it could potentially have on people, because they’re too busy denying that there’s any possible negative impact it could have at all. Despite the fact that this is just willful obliviousness - if fic can have a positive effect on people and inspire or reinforce positive ideas, it has just as much power and likelihood to have a negative effect on people and inspire or reinforce negative ideas. Its not about a one to one correlation, like, its not like anything someone reads in fic they’re going to do, but as pieces of a larger fandom culture? That absolutely adds up and contributes to the normalization and perpetuation and spread of negative ideas and ideologies.

And this is the kind of self-scrutiny an over-reliance on trigger warnings gets in the way of....because its just accepted or taken as fact that trigger warnings ARE the solution....despite all the times and ways people speak up to say well there’s a problem here because this alleged solution is not working here and here and here and over here too. 

But someone who’s convinced they ALREADY did their due diligence by tacking on a couple trigger warnings is never going to be as receptive to being told they missed some, as someone who approaches things from a perspective of understanding that trigger warnings are not infallible, they’re only effective when an author has an HONEST view of their own work.

(And if fandom was truly engaging in a lot of this content honestly, as I’ve said, tags like dub-con and pseudo-incest and consensual underaged sex would not be as widely used as they are in the ways that they’re most often used.....ways that are categorically NOT what those things mean and advertise).

And most importantly, trigger warnings as they’re used by fandom now, like....have kinda become an excuse for authors to try and abdicate any responsibility for what they write. “Oh, I used trigger warnings, so any impact my fic has on someone has nothing to do with me past that point.....unless of course its a positive impact, in which case I’m still more than happy to soak up the praise.”

And that’s just not how it works. You know that thing I said in an earlier post about how all writing is just another form of communicating things - to ourselves in journals, to others in stories or emails or messages.....bottom line, writing has one purpose: to convey ideas, meanings, etc between the person writing and the person or people they’re writing TO or sharing that writing WITH.

In essence, a fic that you’ve written and then decided to POST, to publish, to put out in the world in some form and share with others.....at that point, it stops being a conversation with just yourself and becomes a conversation that’s being had with anyone and everyone who then reads that fic....even if it is a one-sided conversation for the most part, with others just listening to what ideas and thoughts and images and impressions you’re conveying via your writing.

And think of it in terms of like, literally ANY conversation you might have out loud.

If you say something offensive, is it anyone’s fault or responsibility other than yours, that you said something that was offensive?

If you say something you don’t actually believe, but don’t follow it up with anything that actually indicates out loud that this isn’t something you genuinely believe, is it realistic to pretend that people have no basis for listening to what you actually SAID and from that drawing conclusions about what you believe or support?

If you say something that’s in direct opposition to something you said earlier, is it any wonder if people question which you ACTUALLY meant or believe MORE, or just flat out don’t believe what you said earlier now?

If you say something insensitive or even cruel, do you have any right or reasonable expectation why anybody who hears you shouldn’t be within their rights to call you out for what you said and why it was fucked up?

If you choose NOT to say something, out of respect for someone you’re around, or because you know its insensitive or offensive or anything of the sort....are you being censored, or are you just choosing not to be a douchebag?

And so on and so on.

Writers have a tendency to kinda hide behind the logic “not everything we write has to be something we personally believe, we can write characters who have very different values than us” - and that’s absolutely true....but only up to a certain point.

Because you can absolutely write a CHARACTER who believes the opposite of stuff you actually believe or value.....but your NARRATIVE still has to refute that somewhere at some point in some way.....otherwise.....there is literally no reason why anyone reading that, ‘hearing’ what you spoke into the world, would think you DON’T actually believe that. You’ve communicated something toxic or ugly or even harmful or predatory....without accompanying it with ANY communicated idea as to why a reader SHOULDN’T just absorb those ideas as is.

Like.....if you write a rape fic that’s INTENDED to be received as sexy or hot, even if you’re not actually condoning rape within the fic, and even if you would never condone it in real life.....

If your fic still garners comments like “that’s so hot” or something like that, and this isn’t a problem for you because this is a reaction you expected or even a response you intended or were seeking?

You didn’t say or express that you would ever rape someone or say it was okay to rape someone.

But you still communicated, without any kind of self-contradiction: 

“Hey, here is a scenario in which rape is hot.”

And whether you’re talking about fiction or reality, why WOULDN’T that communicated idea be anything other than wildly insensitive and yes, even offensive and yes even DAMAGING to many rape survivors....even if you’re one yourself? 

Like.....another example, okay so I’ve literally been gaybashed, nobody’s likely to ever accuse me of being homophobic, its a pretty safe bet, right? But if I write a fic FOR WHATEVER REASON, in which a character is homophobic even though I’m not myself, but where a character expresses toxic, prejudicial, HARMFUL ideas about being gay....and then my fic nowhere at any point says or does anything to REFUTE or contest those harmful ideas......why would the fact that I don’t actually believe those things make ANY difference whatsoever in terms of whether those things were absorbed by readers in the exact way I communicated them....but without the benefit of any of the reasons I KNOW - but did not communicate in the fic - that they’re harmful and shouldn’t be paid attention to?

So yes, fiction absolutely can do harm, if its not treated with the appropriate responsibility. It can make people who’ve never met someone who’s Muslim decide all Muslim people are terrorists. It can convince people that destructive, harmful instances of incest are actually the outliers and most incest is harmless and between equals. It can normalize the idea that all bisexual people are slutty and promiscuous. It can do tons more beside all that.

And yes, fic absolutely can and often DOES, in fandom, communicate the idea that many of the exact same people who swear they support survivors and have nothing but sympathy for what they went through and all that....can in the right scenarios and circumstances still find the very IDEA of rape hot and exciting, can find the IMAGERY of a hot or sexy character being raped to be sexually stimulating and gratifying and DESIRED, and so on and so forth.

And why wouldn’t that communicated idea make someone question if you’re someone they can ever be comfortable being around, because one way or another, you still found and advertised, broadcast, invited others to join in enjoying.....a scenario in which something an awful lot like that someone’s trauma was hot or sexy to you just as long as it was projected on someone else - a distance which may not matter to them or make them feel any better about the fact that you’re still talking about one of the worst things to ever happen to them, but skewing it in a way where every thing actually being said isn’t about how its bad or wrong or nothing you’d ever condone....but hot and titillating and sexy? 

Why wouldn’t it bother someone or weird them out that you see no conflict of interest between having sympathy for them but then flipping a switch and happily consuming content that’s entirely and unilaterally just about characters going through the exact same kind of thing.....and the viewpoint you’re siding with in this particular instance is that of like....the actual attacker, the one going yes, this is good?

ALL OF THESE are the kinds of questions - and the kind of impact - that not only do trigger warnings just flat out not cover....but that the over-reliance on trigger warnings makes less and less likely to even pop up in a writer’s brain as something worth considering or weighing at all.

So again, like I said at the top - I mean yeah, if a trigger warning is actually helpful to someone, it doesn’t matter WHY it was added or put in place.

But if it wasn’t put in place out of a genuine self-examination of your work and a genuine desire to look out for readers’ comfort and take responsibility for the kind of heavy content you’re choosing to write and share.....

Chances are, the fact that one trigger warning did work for one person or however many, was just a stroke of luck and there’s likely to be a dozen other ways in which that writer failed to consider or even ask themselves....is there anything else I should recognize and acknowledge as potentially having a negative impact on people?

And please, if you read or write dark fic for any reason, you don’t owe me an explanation but you owe it to yourself to at least take a second and honestly ask yourself if you’ve EVER stopped to ask or examine any of the above questions or angles. And if not, why? Ask yourself if you’ve ever been encouraged or had it suggested by others in fandom to even just ask or wonder about these things. And if not, why?

Please examine - who benefits MOST in all of this, from encouraging more and more readers and writers to just NOT think about ANY of this stuff at all, and to instead just shut down any and all conversation about it or attempts to START conversations like this......

Other than people who like and enjoy this type of content and genuinely just do not care about the impact it might have on others....and so similarly, want as few other people as possible to care or even THINK about the impact it might have on others....and thus, maximize the number of people who absent those considerations, have no problem contributing to or enjoying that type of content?

[fortunatelylori]

People are not what they seem – Thoughts on episode 7

This episode was a bit of a mixed bag for me. There were moments I loved but overall it left me more than a little frustrated.

Sparks joy

Arthur Parker

Arthur has always sparked joy for me. His pineapple takedown was one of the most iconic moments of this show and he does not disappoint in episode 7. A lot of people were surprised to see him make the salient points to both Sidney and Georgiana. But I would argue that’s because they haven’t paid attention to Mr. Heywood’s warning back in episode 1.

People are not what they seem in Sanditon and you shouldn’t let what other characters think about one person or another influence your opinion of them. Arthur might be a hypochondriac but, by and large, he has been considerably less trouble to anyone than the likes of Georgiana or Tom. He has also always been, in his own way, incredibly wise and brave. He asked Georgiana to dance when everyone was staring at her in a state of shock and he taught Lady Denham a lesson when even Sidney remained silent.

So it’s no small wonder that the task of reminding Sidney that Eliza Champion might not be the most trustworthy person in the world falls onto him.

It could hardly fall onto Tom … Listen I’ve tried my best to be as understanding with Tom Parker as I could be, making excuses for him left and right. But no more! In this episode alone, he tries to pass off his passive aggressive bullshit onto Mary when she rightly makes him see that hanging around Lady Denham’s drawing room like a carrion crow makes him no better than the likes of Edward Denham. He fallows that up by trying to push his younger brother into a quickie wedding to a woman that abandoned him in favor of a richer husband and sent him on a self-destructive path that almost killed him. What a bozo!!!

At the very least, as his older brother, it was up to Tom to advise Sidney to be a little careful in restarting his relationship with Eliza. But no, that task falls unto Arthur because Tom can’t be trusted with anything more challenging than miniature house building.

Esther and Lord Babington

Speaking of people not being what they seem, these two are by far the biggest surprises Sanditon has to offer. Esther started off as a combination of Mary Crawford and Caroline Bingley and she’s turned into freaking Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight over here!

Don’t ever let anyone tell you Sanditon is just a shallow bodice ripper because the way it went about effortlessly depicting a woman struggling through an emotionally abusive relationship with a narcissist is masterful! And her setting herself free of Edward in this episode was glorious!

As was Lord Babington proving to be a better Darcy than Darcy himself. His deep empathy for her, his complete rejection of Edward’s bitter gossip mongering and his unconditional support was truly moving. Bless him and his orange handkerchief!

PS: Give this man a first name, Davies! He’s earned it!

The Heraclitus of it all

Again, I firmly believe that the people who are dismissing this show as just a spot of shallow entertainment, aren’t really paying attention because the whole scene of Charlotte’s assumed humiliation is so carefully and masterfully built it’s delightful to watch

Charlotte takes Sidney’s “I’m certain Charlotte would prefer to be reading Heraclitus” line as an insult that depicts her a country bumpkin who is not fit for the fashionable London crowd.

But should she? We already know that Sidney reads Heraclituss himself. They were just bonding over that on their little boat ride. And look where his line comes into play:

Eliza: There must be a boy in your village that’s caught your eye.

Lady Susan: Why should Charlotte be limited to her village?

Eliza: I always think it helps to share a common background, that’s all. Miss Heywood is hardly likely to find a kindred spirit in this company.

Lady Susan: Why not?

Eliza: I just imagine she must find our London talk unspeakably tedious. Wouldn’t you agree, Sidney?

Sidney: I have no doubt Charlotte would rather be sat somewhere, quietly reading Heraclitus.

What Sidney is actually saying is that there is someone there who is a kindred spirit to Charlotte: HIM! He isn’t insulting her or laughing at her. He’s making a call back to their London ball scene where they both felt out of place but found solace in each other. What he’s telling her is that he doesn’t belong amongst Eliza’s crowd either.

This kind of subtle, clever writing is actually a lot rarer than you might think and, for me, drives to the core of why Andrew Davies is such a fantastic writer. He not only understands how to present a period drama to a modern audience in a way that is fresh and interesting but also how to create these moments of brilliant writing complexity almost effortlessly.

Georgiana Lambe

Georgiana, the character, isn’t really sparking joy for me as she’s behaving like an utter brat but the writing for her character is. She’s been terribly hurt for the first time in her life so she’s lashing out anyway she can. Also this line is brilliant:

Sidney: I am all too aware that I have fallen short as your guardian. But please believe that I am sincere in my desire to make amends.

Georgiana: Men like you cannot change.

Why is that brilliant? Well because Georgiana is engaging in one of the oldest and most popular forms of toxic anger: transference. What she’s really saying is that Otis will never change enough for them to be together. But Otis isn’t there, Sidney is so he gets to be the punching bag du jour.

The reason why depicting her grief in this way is so compelling is because it’s so natural to her story. She was already feeling like an outcast in England, not loved or wanted by anyone. Otis let her concentrate all of her self-worth entirely on him (one of the worst things he did and not the only one but that’s a subject for another meta) and then failed to live up to his inherent promises. Georgiana feels that no one cares for her and so she pushes the people who are trying to help her away so she can have her very own self-fulfilling prophecy.

And while her interaction with Sidney might be somewhat understandable considering his cold attitude towards her in the beginning and also the fact that whether or not Georgiana likes it, he’s the closest she has to an actual parental figure, her attitude towards Arthur absolutely is not.

Her insults, thankfully, fall on deaf ears because Arthur knows he is a precious lily of the field and we are all very happy he’s here!

Does not spark joy

Sidney and Eliza

From what I see in the tags, no one is really all that fond of Eliza … I wonder why … lol …

But protectiveness over my ship isn’t really why this storyline didn’t spark joy for me. It’s actually because it failed to live up to its potential. The writers chose to make Sidney and Eliza’s reunion all about how that affects Charlotte and dedicated very little time to the Sidney/Eliza dynamic.

And it started so well too. I had high hopes when Sidney said this:

Sidney: A man cannot step into the same river twice.

What Sidney is talking about in very poetic terms if what in my country we call “reheated soup”. That’s what Eliza is … a chance to reheat the soup. Except that the saying goes: reheated soup never tastes the same which is absolutely true when it comes to relationships. Tempting as it might be to rekindle something, it very rarely works out because the reasons why you broke up in the first place will eventually rear their ugly heads again. Which they do in their case as well, when Eliza needlessly attacks Charlotte, proving herself petty and superficial.

But because we never stay with Sidney enough to figure out what his attraction to her might have been once upon a time, because we don’t get to see how reuniting with her is stirring not only his feelings of long lost longing but also of the trauma she caused and because we don’t even get to watch their last conversation together, it all fails to make the impact that it could have made. Which is a shame …

IMDB has Ruth Kearney listed for episode 8 as well and a part of me hopes Eliza will be back next week and we can have a bit of a do over.

Lady Susan

I know everyone likes her and the actress is delightful. However as much as I might enjoy her in isolation, within the context of the story she remains a poorly introduced character who is only on screen to push Charlotte and Sidney together (we never find out why she’s so invested in this) and to act as a deus ex machine for the regatta.

The “half agony, half hope” that is …

Charlotte

I really hate to do this because I love her but most of my frustration this episode came down to Charlotte.

Her behavior was confusing, dissatisfying and at times quite thoughtlessly cruel. Most of that was directed at poor James Stringer.

As you know, I am a Charlotte/Sidney shipper so I don’t have a problem with Charlotte not returning James’ affection. In fact I’ve made the point in the past that the whole Tem Stringer vs. Team Sidney promotion was silly because it was clear there was no rivalry there.

However, Charlotte behaves very poorly to him in this episode. It’s the second time now (the first was in episode 4) where she’s used James as a stand-in for Sidney. Every time she’s talking to this boy, her mind is miles away and she ends up missing all the signs that she’s stringing him along (no pun intended but the clue is in the name, I suppose).

What Charlotte really wants is for Sidney to give her the same undivided adoring validation Stringer gives her and because he isn’t, she ends up engaging with James in a way that is less than ideal. That’s not so say she necessarily realizes she’s doing this but her thoughtlessness is starting to be frustrating.

Which brings me to … her behavior towards Sidney. The way unrequited love seems to work for Charlotte is that it makes her less than generous and she looks for any opportunity to cut Sidney loose, so to speak.

She doesn’t attempt to put up a fight for him at any level, despite this being the girl that fights for everything that matters to her. And it all comes crushing down during the conversation with Eliza, when she takes the smallest opportunity to completely shut him out.

It’s also kind of hypocritical of her to still be angry at this comment at the end of the episode, when she did far worse. I mean if you want to talk about someone being someone else’s “source of amusement” look no further than:

Charlotte (imitating Sidney): You see, Georgiana, this is exactly why I locked you away in Mrs. Griffths’ dungeon. To keep you out of mischief, while I, Sidney Parker, gallivant around London with my high society, dandy friends.

So while deciding that Sidney was an ass to her is tempting, I’d like to point out that, as I’ve shown earlier, there is nothing mean spirited or negative in his comment at all. So is it fair to say that Sidney hurt her when the most obvious explanation is that Charlotte is insecure? She has been since the moment she met Sidney and Eliza instinctively preyed on that insecurity. And Charlotte not only let’s Eliza hurt her but she also transfers her insecurity firmly onto Sidney’s shoulders, instead of owning it or resolving it.

The reason why this is in the half agony, half hope category is because I’m not sure if the above is the writers’ intention or if I’m trying to make this more interesting than it actually is. If their intention is to paint Charlotte as completely right about everything, while Sidney is the fool who needs to repent and Stringer is the guy who got ahead of himself, I’m going to be pretty disappointed.

For the moment, we’ll have to wait and see, I guess.

[dat-town]

when the stars are gone

Characters: Myungjun & You

Genre: angst 

Setting: greek myth in modern era au [moodboard]

Summary: The constellations disappear and one falls right into you.

Warning: mentions of death and violence

Words: 3.1k

for @kmhoodys from your asa ♥

Everything changed overnight.

One of the very few things humanity universally accepted to be true proved all of them wrong and made each belief crumble. People even started doubting things they used to believe in and that was scientifically proven like the Sun rising on the East. Nobody could believe anything they saw anymore.

Why? Easy.

Because from one day to another, all the constellations disappeared from the sky.

Without any forecasting sign, any worrisome news, the next day the night sky was empty save from the Moon and the bright spark of the planet Venus. Any star smaller than the Sun just weren't there anymore and nobody, no astrophysicist or the NASA could explain the phenomena. So people did what they did best when they didn't understood something: they made up stories. They claimed that the apocalypse started just like this: with the lack of stars.

And unbeknownst to you, one of them fell right into you. Literally. With such grace and strength, that you were strangled to the ground of the back garden of your parents’ place. You would have called it misfortune blaming Fortuna but he would have called it the right alignment of the (not even existing) stars that you were right there, right then.

“Hello.”

A soft voice startled and pulled you out of the state of shock you were in due to the fall and the possible concussion you suffered. It was soothing, the way his tone seemed to soothe over the vowels creating the kind of melody you never wanted to forget. You faintly wondered if you were dreaming when opening your eyes you saw an unfamiliar pair of bright, coal dark eyes staring down at you in worry. Honey brown hair fell into the stranger’s forehead, over the smooth skin and your hands itched to touch, to brush the fringe away. His lean body hovered over yours which was a huge disrespect of your personal place and yet, his mere presence took your breath away. Not to mention his unexpected entrance.

“Hi...” you mumbled still a bit dazed and accepted the offered hand that pulled you up from the ground. Standing on unsteady legs you found yourself face-to-face with a young man looking as ethereal as one could get in his simple, elegant, white clothes and with that handsome face of his. He was like nobody you had ever met and you couldn't even pinpoint what it was about him that made you feel like this. Was it the vibe he radiated off or the knowing, piercing look of his eyes?

“Who are you?” was the first question you blurted out because you didn't want to draw false conclusions from the fact that he wondered in your parents’ garden. Maybe he was allowed to. He could have been a new neighbour you didn't know about since you had been away for the last four months because of university.

“Oh forgive me for being so rude. I forgot as I was just as startled as yourself. Everything happened so fast,” the guy apologized seemingly sincere and you found his choice of words pretty interesting. “People used to call me Perseus but it's been awhile since I used that name. You may call me Myungjun, or Jun for short if you prefer.”

As he introduced himself, you furrowed your eyebrows at the mention of the ancient name.

“Perseus as in the constellation?” you looked up only to be welcomed by the empty, black sky and then back at the boy shining brightly just by standing there.

“Yeah exactly.”

It seemed like the stranger… Myungjun, you reminded yourself, didn't feel the need to explain it any further and silence stretched far between you two. You were about to ask what he was doing here or what brought him here so fast he couldn't stop the collision but the question died on your lips as you heard your name being called from the house.

“That was my little brother. I have to go,” you excused yourself and turned around to go in, so Sanha didn't have to come out to get you and drag you inside. But before you walked away you just had to tell him about your concern of him being there because something was up with this whole situation.

“You should leave if my parents didn't allow you to cross our garden,” you told him and with that and one last, curious gaze thrown his way, you left, shutting the door behind you just to be sure.

It wasn't long after when you first heard the news about other unexplainable events. For example the enormous (six feet tall!) scorpion that attacked New York or the huge lion wandering on the streets in the East. Yet, it wasn't until the appearance of two identical brothers acting like heroes who spoke a strange dialect that people connected the dots: the constellations that disappeared from the sky was now actually down on Earth.

Like Perseus.

The realization made your throat close-up and for once you listened to your parents who insisted that you shouldn't go back to university until things get a bit safer. But it didn't look very promising for now.

Even Hercules who liked to be called Rocky now declared on national television that the whole fiasco was the revenge of gods for not believing in them. Though rumours had it that Selene, the goddess of night sky and stars, was kidnapped and the emptiness of her position caused the havoc. Whatever it was, chaos emerged. People had to face attacks of animals multiple of their normal size or even mythological creatures wandering on the streets. Orion, or as he preferred to be named now: Jinjin, being the talented hunter he was, teamed up with Hercules and together they tried to make sure no innocent human life was taken. However, it wasn't that easy, they couldn't be anywhere.

For example, right here.

You were just back from grocery shopping when you saw your brother hiding behind the corner of one of your neighbours' house. You were just about to call his name when he noticed you and one look with wild hand gestures was enough to silence you. A low animalistic grunt made you freeze in your place before you spotted the huge long-neck dinosaur-like monster with a really ugly and scary head. You quickly crouched down and hid behind a rubbish container before it could notice you and eat you because based on the mess on the street, it was looking for food in the bins. Taking a few shallow breaths you glanced out on your left to check Sanha's position and come up with ways how to get there but the boy looked utterly panicked and kept pointing to something behind you. You didn't know what to make of it until the loud sound of a huff on your right. You quickly turned around and faced the head of the monster. Geez, it was almost as big in itself as you crouched down. Not to mention the dark eyes and the huge flashed teeth of it.

Over the loud, fearful drumming thumps of your heart you barely heard the Run! order before you saw a familiar figure in the line of your vision with a makeshift armour made of the cap of a garbage bin and a long, sharp kitchen knife. It all happened so fast, you barely registered what you were in the middle of and then you heard the frizzing sound and smell of flesh burning and the head of the monster rolled away once Myungjun cut it off its slim neck.

“Are you okay?” he crouched down in front of you and offered a helping hand. You had a slight déjavu as you took it.

“Yeah, I am. Just surprised,” you admitted and damn how could you not notice last time how soft his skin was? And how warm was the care in his chocolate brown orbs? “Thank you for saving my life.”

“Anytime,” he smiled a bit cheekily still not letting go of your hand and it was so absurd. You didn't know how long you would have just stood there if your brother didn't step in.

“Guys, it's a hydra,” he yelled and it was only his warning that saved you from the jet of flame the now two-headed monster sent your way. Where one head was cut off two new grew into its place and you desperately started searching for some information about how to kill it for good.

“Come on,” Myungjun tugged you farther away and you followed him because in your shocked state you didn't know what else to do. When you reached Sanha's side you couldn't help but notice that your little brother towered over both of you. (Why did he have to grow so tall for real?)

“Should we call I don't know… the military?” you suggested running out of ideas already and Sanha sorted at your idea murmuring something probably savage under his breath.

“There's no need. I can handle it,” Myungjun claimed with a confident smile.

“Dude, you didn't even know it was a hydra,” your brother rolled his eyes and he was right. Cutting off the head wasn't the best idea because now it had two and one of them could emit fire.

“But now I know and I know what to do with it. Just keep her away,” he pointed at you and you knew it was the wrong time to complain that you weren't a damsel in distress since he really did kind of saved you earlier.

“Who is this guy?” Sanha asked once Myungjun was off to fight with the hydra.

“Perseus,” you blurted out without thinking, long-forgotten childhood stories of Greek mythology coming back.

“The ancient hero?”

“It looks like it,” you said dreamily, watching the scene unfold before you in awe. Myungjun moved out of the way of fire and sliced the heads so elegantly like a dancer but it seemed like an endless one as he slayed one head after the other but more and more kept growing into the old ones place. Was he crazy? Which part of hydra didn't he understand? You were fuming as you watched as his chances got slimmer minute by minute and wanted to scream out of frustration when he climbed up to the monster.

“Wait! I think I know what he's trying to do,” your brother stopped you when you tried to end this nonsense and then you realized it too. How the dozen of heads all turned around in a circle surrounding Myungjun, preparing for an attack. But just in that moment when they did lunge forward he jumped off and the heads bit onto their own necks, spit fire onto their body itself.

After a minute of struggling the hydra dropped dead onto the ground. You didn't even notice that you were holding your breath until you finally let it out relieved when the monster turned into nothing but ashes. If you weren't so focused on Myungjun, you would have noticed the Hydra constellation back on the sky in that moment. But seeing how uncertain he stood there on wobbly legs you ran to him without hesitation. He must have been exhausted from the fight because otherwise he looked okay, wearing his battle scars proudly.

“Are you alright?” you asked just to be sure and boldly touched his cheek, stroking the skin there below a bloody scar.

“Yeah, it's just… it's been a while,” he let out a tired sigh and it didn't take a lot to convince him to follow you inside the house, so you could treat his wounds and give him something to eat and drink. It was adorable how disgusted face he pulled when he tried coffee but he couldn't stop eating the chocolate cupcakes you just made.

“Okay, now try to stay still. I need to clean your wounds before they get infected,” you told him firmly and sat him down on a kitchen chair. Luckily your parents weren't at home yet or otherwise it would have been a bit difficult to explain what the demigod was doing in your house eating dessert.

Myungjun hissed when the antiseptic made contact with the wound on his cheek and you suppressed a smile. He was rather cute when he wasn't out there fighting mythical creatures.

“Must be nice to be a demigod but you aren't invincible. Be more careful next time,” you warned him as you applied some cooling cream over the scar. After you finished, you were a bit taken aback when you found his bright eyes on you from such a short distance. It took your breath away once again.

“Were you… worried about me?” he asked slowly and softly and your heart palpitations had never been worse.

“Of course I was,” you admitted and quickly turned away to pack the first-aid box.

It was his turn to suppress a smile.

Soon your parents arrived and after Sanha's shortened version of your earlier adventure, they made Myungjun to stay for dinner, too. Poor guy was interrogated so much but at least after your parents learned about his skills they finally agreed to let you go back to the capital for university if he went with you. Your argument that you couldn't live in fear just because of some mythical creatures running on the streets didn't seem to be good enough but when Myungjun mentioned he actually wanted to get to the capital to meet up some other heroes, they immediately suggested that you should accompany him. They thought you were safer with him which was a rather selfish reason to stay with him but Myungjun didn’t seem to mind neither your company, nor the long train ride.

You helped him adjust to the big city life and you became popular among your peers for being friends with one of the Greek mythology version of Avengers or so people called these heroes who came to life and made sure to get rid of the monsters. It took quite some time but the constellations got back to their originals places one by one except the heroes themselves who tried to integrate into the society.

University life was boring as always but when you got home Myungjun was there to make your day better. He still marvelled at a few new inventions and damn, he loved to eat a lot! He told you a lot of stories but your favourites were when he told you about himself. You loved listening to his voice no matter what he talked about. It was so lovely and peculiar, made you feel safe and made you smile. Just like his silly antics you adored so much.

Yet, you couldn't help but wonder about the what ifs.

“Will you stay here for good?” you asked out loud in one particularly weak moment while casually snuggling up on the couch and watching some comedy you didn't even really pay attention to.

“I don't know,” Myungjun sighed; he seemed worried too. “The gods are moody, unpredictable creatures always making hasty decisions.”

“I don't want you to leave,” you blurted out and it turned out a very clumsy confession as your cheeks got pink. But the demigod might have been just as enamoured as he took your hand in his intertwining your fingers.

“I don't want to leave either,” he said and it was enough to ease your heart.

 Yet so very naive of you, so mundane, you forgot about a crucial detail. Or maybe you just didn't want to care, not until you had to…

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon when someone rang the bell of your apartment, so you stopped in the middle of baking to open the door. On the other side of the threshold stood the most beautiful girl you have ever seen. Her shiny black hair was the canvas of night and her eyes were like the prettiest ink splashes on the sugary colour of her skin. She smiled like royalty did and you didn't know what could have brought her onto your doorstep.

“Hello. I'm looking for Perseus. Is he here?” she asked in a very melodic voice.

“Excuse me but who are you?” you asked politely but the answer didn't came from the girl in front of you but from Myungjun himself from behind you.

“Andromeda,” he whispered and your heart clenched.

Oh. Andromeda… as in his wife from the mythology. How could you forget that?

“Oh I will leave you alone to talk then. I will be in the kitchen,” you cleared your throat and got away as quickly as you could without looking at Myungjun. You didn't want to witness the pity in his eyes or hear them being all lovey-dovey.

You went back to your loyal cupcakes and started decorating them with frosting one by one hoping their sweetness will make you forget that ugly bitterness and hopelessness in you. You were actually so focused on getting the design right, you didn't even hear Myungjun's approaching footsteps until he gently, ever-so-lovingly hugged you from behind.

You tensed under his touch, heart thumping loudly as you asked: “Where's Andromeda?”

“I sent her away,” he answered simply and even if you secretly wished for this, you were utterly confused.

“Why?”

“It had been millenniums. Enough time for love to change, to grow cold,” he explained seriously and then, a lot softer, almost timidly, he whispered into the juncture between your neck and shoulder: “To fell in love with someone new.”

Your breath hitched and you didn't know what to say. It seemed like you didn't need to because Myungjun didn't expect you to. He just kept you in his embrace and you let him.

Life with a demigod wasn't easy, not always, but Myungjun made it feel like it was. Loving him almost came naturally. Thus, losing him hurt almost unbearably so.

The gods were indeed cruel because marking the one year anniversary of the day of your first meeting, the day when all the stars were suddenly gone, the night sky demanded back what it lost.

At first you refused to believe he disappeared when he wasn't there when you came home. He didn't answer your calls, nor your texts. You started to worry, then panicking, and by the time you looked up at the sky from your balcony, you barely saw anything through the tears in your eyes. Because you knew what you would find there even before you saw it, the bright Perseus constellation back in its place where he belonged: among the stars, light years away from you.

Still, you were sure that he looked after you even from up there.

[ketzwrites]

Rewatch 108: Bad Blood

The plot thickens. Both Clary and Alec have to make their minds over decisions that will influence people they love: only Alec’s involves himself and Clary’s is over someone else’s fate. Unrelated, Izzy looks really good in a lab coat.

Teaser

The first rule of shadowhunting has three parts and they all amount to “be irresponsible but look cool.”

For posterity, Izzy agrees that they need to give the Mortal Cup back to the Clave. But Clary and Jace want to use the MC to, I guess, lure Valentine into a trap but not give it to him. They still think they can outsmart him.

Lucky there is never other shadowhunters on patrol. Imagine if it wasn’t the core four who found Raphael with Simon’s corpse, hm? Awkward.

Act One

Izzy justifies a war against an entire race because of the actions of one person. Jace is ready to fight that war. I’m having flashbacks of 103.

Oh, the irony of Raphael belittling Simon for coming back for blood “like an addict”.

There’s a discussion to have about Raphael’s role in Simon’s death. He is responsible for choosing to follow Camille’s orders, but he is also the person that essentially saved Simon and warned Simon to stay away. He is also the person that ensured Simon would have a chance to come back as a vampire after Camille killed Simon. No deed cancels the other, but I particularly blame Camille for Simon’s death and only then I blame Raphael and Clary for Simon becoming a vampire.

“Not the sexed up, romantic kind. The ugly, blood-sucking, coffin dwelling kind.” Raphael is right there, proving that wrong. Camille proves it wrong. In fact, every single vampire we’ve seen so far is sexed up and romanticized.

Jocelyn still wears a wedding ring? Really? Well, at least Valentine puts two and two together and realizes Clary is his kid.

It’s interesting how Robert is painted as the down-to-Earth, good parent while Maryse is the suck-up, bad parent. How things will change in time.

The last straw for the Lightwoods to lose the Institute is their meddling in Downworlder affairs. I wish the writers of the show remembered this piece of world-building down the line.

It’s not your fault that bad people exist, Clary.

Lydia’s entrance is incredibly badass and well-written. She’s supposed to be all business and testing the Institute, so she masks herself as their so-called greatest enemy and walks in. She’s able to evaluate the Institute’s defense mechanisms and reaction time. It also shows her confidence in her own abilities and that said confidence is justified: Alec’s aim has been shown to be lethal and she is the first person able to defend against him. Truly well-done.

Act Two

Lydia is also shown to be competent and tough, but in the most unlikable way possible. We’re not supposed to like her, but we are supposed to respect her. Like Izzy does.

There are no women in the NY pack, are there? Too bad they didn’t introduce Maia’s character already in the first season. She could’ve been just a background character, much like Alaric, and then get a bigger role in season 2.

Even suspension of disbelief isn’t enough to accept that Elaine wouldn’t have heard Jace and Clary talking in this silent room she is also in.

Lydia is supposed to be inquisitive of everything, but it is not suspicious that the Acting HotI has the contact of the closest Alpha. I’d think it would be expected of Alec to receive word when the Downworlders of NY are attacked.

I deeply appreciate the explicit references to Simon’s Jewishness in this episode. I also like that Clary knows where he keeps his religious stuff in his room. It creates great normalcy for all of it and it proves how integral to Simon’s life his religion is. So much so, his non-Jewish best friend can gather the important stuff while discussing how distressed she is with her sort-of-boyfriend.

This exchange between Clary and Jace is absolutely amazing and it should’ve been the foundation of their relationship. But, more importantly, it should’ve been Clary’s brand of shadowhunting: being compassionate and showing mercy makes her different than the others. It makes her better than the others.

And now, Lydia’s mini “redemption” arc starts. Her harshness gets softened and she is kind to Alec, showing that she is not just a bitch trying to pry the Institute away from the Lightwoods. Once, she followed her heart, but only got sorrow for it. So, she masks that side of her and, instead, portrays herself as the soldier she is meant to be. The perfect shadowhunter in the eyes of the Clave.

In sum, Lydia is a cautionary tale for Alec. And, at first glance, we could think Lydia’s story is supposed to tell Alec to suck up his feelings and follow his orders. That, by doing so, he too can become an envoy personally mentored by the Inquisitor. He too can get his own Institute to lead one day. But that would be the wrong read. Because Lydia is a cautionary tale, but of what Alec shouldn’t do. He shouldn’t suck up his feelings and follow corrupted and elitist people like Imogen Herondale. He shouldn’t stop following his heart, even when it leads to sorrow and complications. So much so that, in the end, it will be Alec who will inspire Lydia to change; to defy Imogen by rescinding her accusations against Izzy and to accept the dissolution of a mutually beneficial marriage. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

It’s still funny to me how Lydia has no social skills whatsoever. She is literally the only other character that could play bad cop to Alec’s good cop.

Act Three

The whole scene with Lydia and Alec at the morgue is perfect. Perfect. Not in small part for Lydia trying to justify being Circle Member as a forgivable “mistake” and the contrast with Alec’s absolute disgust. He knows it isn’t a mistake to be a part of a violent blood supremacist group: it’s a choice. His unwillingness to excuse his parents is what sets Alec apart from the other shadowhunters.

Ps: Magnus invented the Portal. Lydia’s ancestral was there. Just to make it clear.

Clary going to Luke for solace about Simon’s death is much more emotional to me now than it was back when I first watched this scene.

This scene with Magnus and Izzy is such a classic. Too bad they don’t get to interact much.

The internalized racism that Luke deals with is an amazing plotline. We barely scratch the surface here but it’s a very poignant arc that could’ve been underline his whole character development. Luke clearly still hurts to talk about his transformation: him finding pride in being a werewolf is something I’d be interested in seeing.

Act Four

Alec feels comfortable enough with Magnus to just pour down his deepest and most urgent issues about his life. To Magnus’ credit, he listens and takes Alec’s doubts seriously. Also, shirtless scene.

Raphael’s coup d’état is done so unceremoniously, it’s a shame. The ideologies in conflict here are just what I like to see: morally gray and still compelling. Camille killed Simon because she wanted to, simple as that. Camille was ready to just get rid of Simon’s corpse and keep on as if nothing had happened. She gives no damns about the Accords. Which is awful when it hurts mundanes, but the Accords are the shadowhunters’ rules. Why should Camille follow them?

Raphael, on the other side, wants to follow the Accords. Although, it’s not because he cares about the mundanes: he just doesn’t want problems with the shadowhunters. It’s an interesting conflict and it’s a waste that the Downworlder politics existed in the season but were reduced to the background of Simon’s arc.

BUT Clary straight up punches Camille on the face and I am here for that.

First instance of hearing “the Law is hard, but it is the Law.” And, as always, the Clave focus on palliative measures instead of doing its job and actually protecting the Shadow World. If the Clave really believed the Lightwoods could be working with Valentine, it would’ve removed the whole family from the city, not just the command of the Institute. This is a political maneuver for show only.

Excellent use of camera angle to show which piece of wood Clary chooses while keeping the suspense to the maximum.

Act Five

Shadowhunters does great work with songs and emotional scenes. Simon’s burial is incredibly well crafted.

Alec is now on the point in his arc where he makes his first attempt to correct the consequences of his wrong-doings. His proposal to Lydia is not the ultimate right move, but it is a move in which Alec is ceasing a little control of his destiny by at least choosing his bride. He understood the concept of shaping his own destiny, but he’s not thinking big enough. Alec still has to learn not to accept his punishment (the arranged marriage) at all. Halfway there.

Jace is very sweet here, listing all the things Simon’s survived.

Act Six

This whole blood thing confuses me. Valentine used seelie blood - which is half angel and half demon blood – on the mundanes before drawing the runes that turned them into Forsakens. But Izzy identified the angelic and mundane blood – she mentions “Nephilim” while studying the corpse. Not the demon blood. Why?

Valentine using angel blood on the Forsakens to get them inside the Institute was a smart plan and I applaud the writers for coming up with it. I just wonder what Valentine’s goal was. Where the Forsakens supposed to take the Mortal Cup? In which case, they are not smart enough. Where they supposed to kill all the shadowhunters in the Institute? In that case, just one of them is too few.

As well acted as this scene of Simon waking up as a vampire is, I don’t understand why Simon would say he is repulsive. He was more than happy to talk about how hot Camille was, Jace has mentioned how mundanes romanticize vampires, and Simon is established as a fan of geek stuff. I’d think he’d be more traumatized for having died.

[noctemusfic]

☵ Pride | rated : G

A Supernatural (CW show) AU Fan Fiction by Silvi Henna (Noctemus). Can also be read on: @AO3

Characters/Pairing: Ruby, Sam Winchester, Sam/Ruby Notes:

Part 2 of Moments Like These series.

// Betaed by Kezzie_du. Thank you.

Summary: Another scene ficlett to MLT.

☵ Pride - 1/1

If Dean could, so could Sam.

☳ ☼ ☳

Things had been going well, which on its own should have put Sam on edge. Because when had that ever happened to a Winchester? Still, Sam found himself in a pretty good mood which he could admit was a rare happening. But things were going well.

So yeah, he's been threatened by angels, got a little bit disillusioned in the man upstairs and all his crowd which he guessed was a good excuse as any to be down and low but Dean was beginning to open up to him and, for the first time in a long time, he felt like he had his brother back again.

He wasn't a fool to believe that Dean was telling him everything. If anything, he seemed to have more secrets than ever but Sam still felt like Dean was slowly coming back to him and that made a smile grow on his face.

He probably looked like a fool with the grin seemingly stuck on his face if Dean's expression was anything to go by but Sam thought, fuck that.

He wasn't going to let that get him down. Things had calmed down once again that it finally felt like they could take a breather or two, so naturally – in Sam's mind – Dean was wanting to once again go out and score, though Dean had been a little less tacky about that. Dean had said he wanted to get back into the swing of things as he seemed to have the notion he was out of practice.

Sam doubted anyone as prolific Dean was could ever go stale, regardless of where he'd been.

Sam was all for it, giving him thumbs up and all – another point where Dean had looked at him funny – but of course Sam wasn't going to bitch if it meant that it bought Dean some time to put his mind somewhere else but the fucked up life they led, and the little fact that for all intents and purposes Dean wasn't going to be able to get rid of Ruby.

There was nothing like a good lay to put the mind in a pleasant buzz for a while which was why Sam was currently finding himself outside of Ruby's motel, her having made the wise decision to house herself somewhere else.

If Dean could, so could Sam.

Wiping the grin off his face – it wouldn't do to put her off the mood right off the bat – Sam willed the door unlocked, and wasn't that a neat little trick, and stepped in.

All his plans, however, came crashing down at what he found in the room. Or more precisely, what he didn't find. Where the hell was Ruby?

Looking around the room Sam could see her bag as always shoved against the wall, her clothes thrown about in disarray making his fingers itch in a desire to neat things up. She was one messy demon.

But no Ruby.

There was a half-eaten burrito on the dresser and as Sam picked it up, he saw the stale grease and knew it'd been there a while.

The feeling growing in his stomach, no no. He was most definitely not worried.

Before he could call out a familiar sound reached him from his left. Familiar, yes – he remembers Dean doing the exact same noises when he had the bad case of the runs – but it was odd to hear that in the room that Ruby was supposed to occupy.

He did have the right room, right? Turning around taking in the items he breathed a sigh of relief when indeed those did belong to Ruby.

Hearing the garbled up sound again, curiosity took a firm hold of him and he turned towards the bathroom.

Opening the door open he peered inside. His eyes widened when bent over the toilet was Ruby, her back arching as she hurled into the bowl.

Nasty, ugly sounds that made Sam shudder in sympathy.

Toeing the door open further he called out, "Ruby."

Ruby whimpered and hunched in on herself. "Go away."

"What on earth happened?" Sam asked ignoring her plea as he stepped into the bathroom.

"Go away; I don't want you to see me like this." The words were garbled up as she was taken over by convulsion and she dry-retched into the toilet again. Sam understood her well enough though.

Looking around he saw a pair of wet jeans lying across the tub. Turning around he was surprised to meet with onyx eyes that in spite of its inhumanness was still able to transmit pure misery.

"I gather you're not feeling well," Sam stated as he watches her grab a bottle of water and take some gulps. He grimaced. The taste can't be good.

Having followed his line of sight to her pants drawing attention to the fact she was in her panties she said, "I had an accident."

"Accident how?" Sam asked. Ruby grimaced before she was forced over the bowl once again, the body rejecting the water.

"Oh, OH. I didn't even know you could still do that," he said as he flinched at a particularly violent attack.

Ruby slumped down on the cold tile, her pale skin looking almost grey in the bathroom light.

Settling her arm against the rim of the toilet she flushed with the other one and settled her head against it blinking blearily at Sam, her onyx eyes going back to the familiar brown.

"The body is still alive, Sam. Where do you think all that I eat end up?"

Sam shuddered, "I didn't need to get that mental image."

"We don't usually stay in one body long enough for that to be an issue or we let the host deal with it but I'm driving solo here. I think I ate something bad."

"The burrito out there?"

Ruby shrugged.

"You're a demon Ruby," Sam said as he folded himself against the edge of the tub shoving the wet jeans further away.

"Jeez, thanks for that intel. I never would have guessed."

Sam rolled his eyes. "What I meant is, aren't you suppose to be immune? Or at least have a bigger tolerance to some stomach bug? Or even better, heal?"

"I don't know. I've tried." Ruby whined as she rubbed her stomach. Suddenly she went up on her knees again and bent over the bowl her knuckles turning white as she gripped the edge. Sam could hear her groan, "Oh fuck, I'm gonna die."

Sighing, Sam leaned forwards and gathered her hair to keep it from harm's way, his nose crinkling at the smell wafting up from the toilet. His hand rubbed gently at her back and held her as she slumped back her head burrowing into his chest.

Reaching over to the edge of the tub Sam managed to grab the small washcloth and one-handed open the crane and wet it. Turning it off he wrung the thing out the best he could. Showing it to Ruby he waited for her to take it. She just blinked, lying slumped against him. Sighing he took a better hold of it and passed it over her face.

She whimpered, "Have mercy, just kill me."

Shaking his head he gathered her and stood up. She moaned at the sudden shift and clung to his shirt. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

Walking out of the bathroom he moved her over to the bed ripping off the covers, the clothes that had been on it finding a new home on the floor. Ruby groaned again as she was put onto the mattress.

Turning to the bathroom again he grabbed the wastebasket and settled it next to the bed. Settling on the edge of the bed he watched as Ruby curled on her side. Not exactly how he'd envisioned the evening.

He gently rubbed her as she trembled. She was wrecked with nausea and in spite of a few false alarms, she didn't throw up again. Sam had her drink a few sips of water every once in a while, not the mouthful she'd been taking, and it seemed to work as slowly she upgraded from feeling death warmed over to simply dying.

After a not so false alarm, Sam found himself with a lapful of Ruby as she snared the shirt in her hands pleading. "Please, let me in. I promise I'll be good. Just until this is over."

She looked pitiful, utterly miserable and maybe it made him a bastard but he found this whole situation rather amusing. A sick demon, who'd have thought?

Sam shook his head his hand rubbing circles on her back, "One, there is no way in hell I'll let you piggyback on me, and two, even if I wanted to I wouldn't be able to do it."

Pushing her so that he could reach the neckline of his shirt he tugged it down.

"Remember this?" The swirling tattoo could clearly be seen.

"Aww," she whined as she settled her head against his chest.

"I guess you'll just have to stick it out."

"You could try to not sound so smug."

Sam shrugged, his lips curling up. "What can I say, welcome to getting a taste of what being human is."

"I remember being human, I didn't say I wanted to be one." Ruby pouted as she let Sam push her to lie down again. Sam shook his head. Letting his knuckles grace her cheek before brushing her hair back he said quietly. "Maybe. Still, there are no words I can say that'll describe how much I hate being possessed."

Ruby closed her eyes. She had forgotten. How very stupid of her.

"I'm sorry," she found herself saying.

"What for?"

"I don't know. For everything I guess. For what happened. For this." Curling in on herself, Ruby sighed as she looked up at Sam. At his indication, she scooted over to make more room for him.

"I guess you had some specific ideas for coming over. This kind of puts a damper on those now, doesn't it?"

Sam shrugged, "For now. This isn't bound to last forever. But I gotta tell you, finding you with food poisoning, now that's something I'd-"

"Hush you."

Sam grinned. Toeing off his shoes, he stood up and shrugged off his jacket, letting it drop on the floor. Standing up he stepped over Ruby to plump next to her not feeling remorseful at all at her groan.

Unbuckling his belt he pulled it loose and let it join with the rest of the items on the floor. Folding his arms behind his head, crossing his ankles he looked over at her as she carefully moved to face him. "That'll teach you to eat healthier, now won't it?"

"Oh, for crying out loud," she exclaimed, annoyed, as she thumped him. Sam laughed, his hands going down to hover over where she hit him and rolled out of her reach before setting back in his original position.

"I'm just saying," he said.

Ruby shook her head before settling down letting the quiet even breathing next to her lull her to a fretful rest, her body fighting against the bacteria that had decided to make her body their battleground.

There were just some things she needed to let nature run its course, it seemed. Not that she hadn't tried to deal with it her own way but apparently there were just some things her demonic nature was not able to tackle.

Sometimes she thought the universe was conspiring against them. Like devils and angels weren't enough. Because really, did Sam really have to be there to see this? She had her pride after all.

The end.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters portrayed herein. This is for fan enjoyment only and no profit gained nor sought.

[peanutdracolich]

Peanut Dracolich Watches Horror: Ju-On

Oh after the old Hammer Horror films this was a breath of fresh air. It was a legitimately scary film (The Descent beat it out for fear factor I think, but Ju-On might have a longer impact and burn). The film made good use of music and the absence of music, good use of angles to cast things as ‘off’. It was in total a good well made creepy and scary film.

I’d actually say that it might be the best horror film I’ve watched this month. I didn’t enjoy it as much as a good watching of Alien or Evil Dead nor as much as Psycho but it is very much a pure film, a film of scares and creeps and terror that clenches at you. I would suggest it (with caveats but horror is a large enough genre, and one with enough things that can be major ‘nos’, there will always be caveats). That said I don’t feel it’s a film I will want to rewatch; the ghost story was enjoyable once, but it doesn’t have anything to draw me back to it. Which rewatchability while a plus in a film is far from a requirement.

The Good, the Bad, the Ugly, and the Play by Play below the cut.

The Good:

The Overall Effect: It’s actually hard to say ‘this was good’ because the film was overall good. They used silence and then sound early in the film to wonderful effect (sometimes it bordered on ‘you should be scared now’ but that faded as the movie drew you in). I can’t even say ‘this section was best’ because while the first two felt generally weaker, a large part of that was that the effect needed time to build, and grow.

The Covers Scene: If you’ve seen the film you hopefully know what I’m talking about if you haven’t I don’t want to spoil it (the play by play will but).

The Bad:

Early Tomio: The make up job was... It took a bit of extra buy in and suspension the first time he showed up full ghost. In generally the ghosts took a bit of extra buy in and could have ruined the film if I had not been willing to let it go and enjoy and believe. I don’t have a huge problem with these moments (I believe some investment of imagination is deserved by a film), but once or twice in the film it did get to me more than most I mention it for. I could put this in the Ugly (as it’s a visual failing) but as it’s got more stuff in the ‘necessary evil’ category I’m putting it here because it did feel like a legit flaw.

The Ugly:

Temporal Confusion: It jumps around a lot in time. I’d actually say it really ought to have had a X years later with the one section but I don’t think it’d have gotten to me in an English speaking film; subtitles add an extra layer of mental involvement (you’re reading) and that aggravated it. And it did use the confusion to good effect and it’s a legit effect in horror. Still bothered me a bit.

There are no rules: The ghost really does seem to have no real rules. I mean everyone targeted theoretically visits the house (ignoring the implications in the final scene as just artistic license). But we never really learn any rules, and there’s no real meaningful interactions with the ghost. It works, it makes it scarier, but this is a large part of why I don’t really want to rewatch (or I’m sure there’s some folk lore from Japan that adds a little, and small details I could get on a rewatch, but at the amount of effort it’d be more fun to just read up online). It’s a reason I’m not super interested in the sequels in the franchise; despite the film possibly being the best I watched I am not that intrigued by the umpteen sequels. I am certain at some point they add lore, and at some point they contradict that lore, but in a way I’d rather leave it with its lawless purity than see what they do. Still it feels like the curse doesn’t function on any rules other than ‘to an audience this would be scary/freaky’ which makes the suspension of disbelief a bit harder and leaves a subtly bad aftertaste. Again I can’t say this is truly the Bad, because it’s what makes the film work, but it is a double edged sword.

The Ordering of the Last Two Sections: The final section is really a final section, but a throwaway line in the section before it in addition to causing much of the temporal confusion tells you how it ends. The second to last section is the only one where you sort of feel hope for the human’s escape, someone actually doing something to fight the curse and who has been built up in the last section... but this only works if you aren’t paying attention to the time (my thoughts at the time were ‘if there’s 10-20 minutes left in the film she’ll make it, if there’s 30 she’s sure dead’ there were going back later to check 27 at that time of thought). In the end I think the ordering the film used is better, but it is still just a bit bothersome.

The Play by Play:

Ju-On is on to a good creepy start. I am sort of regretting... don't hurt the cat! Ok this is a good creepy start. Lots of blood lots of implied murder. Good start. I am regretting making hot chocolate because my appetite is damaged now. Of artistic note is that they made the opening have washed out and faded colors, not actually black and white but still creating a certain surreal feeling and appearance. Still it's stuff like this, stuff that makes use of music and visuals to create an effect that makes horror movies worth watching. I watch horror because it creates visceral reactions that few other movies do; I might get engaged and energized watching a heroic tale, but that's just one hit and horror can get that sort of energy, but it offers a plethora more.

 We then get actual characters at the social welfare center. Someone is handing off a hard case to a volunteer who doesn't want it, and then using it as an excuse to take her to dinner. I feel sorry for her already.

 And then we get 'haunted' sound screech. Not trying to create the feeling of terror with it alone, but using the music and fiddling with angles and shots to create a creepy feeling as our volunteer approaches the old lady's house. The house where she gets no response, finds it an absolute sty with everything scatter about, and the old lady unable to get up out of bed to meet her simply clawing at the glass door.

 Nishina Rika. We have her name and I'm writing it down because I don't want to call her 'volunteer girl' or 'protag girl'. Rika is just so much easier.

 Now this movie knows how to mix eroticism with horror, she's giving the old lady a sponge bath. Forgive me I've watched too many vampire movies of late.

 The movie has not been using music outside of that creepy start. It has had minor sounds, and it is using them to good effect. We hear growling, no something scratching at the back of a sealed door and it is creepy. She goes in and we start finally getting some background music and the sudden inclusion after the lack is all the creepier. A cat yowls and we can believe a cat is behind the taped up door. Rika removes the tap to open and see inside... and it's just a cat sitting there peaceful. CREEPY SOUND and then a boy appears in the taped up closet. Rika freaks.

 She seems to think she simply missed the child before leaning in to get the cat. I guess that's reasonable, after all children don't suddenly appear. They aren't birds and she wasn't hearing any name.

 She starts up the stairs and CREEPY SOUND The boy is looking down at her. I'll admit I sort of jumped at the sound. It is reminiscent to Saw's laugh track except a hundred times more effective since the things are creepy and not 'dude tied up'.

 Old lady is talking to ghosts and we have music again. The music rises to really creepy as a shadow demon thing attacks the old lady and then opens its eyes, the child's eyes I think, and looks at Rika. Rika faints.

 We get the next part and a name for the hero of this part, but I'm bad with names and was writing the above it is not written down in time.

 Same house. Same mess... but it's not quite, there's a couple living in the house, her son and daughter in law. I know I should be creeped, the tension should be holding, but... I'm still a bit burnt out I guess. And then something falls over the, younger old lady, awakens. So it would seem this is either a different family or the past. The ghost child is still there looking down from above, his black cat with him. House wife is sort of freaked out that there's someone and a cat in her house. She doesn't have a cat. In my mind she and her husband have been trying to have a child, but that's just my mind.

 Good use of sound, good use of camera. Cat screams, woman screams, we do not see. It's the past, Hitomi and Kazumi, the names that were dropped in the first segment. Everything has been knocked around. The man's been blaming his mom. It's not. It's the ghost, the demonic spirit that has now stolen his wife's soul. Alright she finally reacts to his screaming and shaking, her eyes moving, and her mouth trembling, it did not steal his soul.

 It walks behind him as he's calling an ambulance and he doesn't quite see it but he senses something. It's a nice moment. My feet are poised to jump up onto the seat with me. The child isn't there when he's looking, he can't see it, but he can tell there's something.

 Now he finally finds it. I must be willing to be afraid, the monster is a child with some pale make up and it's just. It doesn't quite get my feet up... even as his wife dies from the curse. A dark look overcomes his face as his sister arrives.

 My feet feel vulnerable still, though.

 The son seems to be crazy. I'm getting Jack Nicholson vibes from him. He's lying about where his wife is. He's trying to literally push his sister out of the door, and now is talking about his wife having an affair, how that's not his child. They didn't have a child. There is something wrong here and his sister is just confused.

 Possession claims him and he goes to murder his wife as the child smiles like an evil imp.

 The next section is Hitomi (the sister/daughter). And we see her making a phone call (I neglected to mention) from the first part. She's NOT in the house. That doesn't mean she's safe. Something is following her. There are strange, scraping footsteps, like something is shuffling. She even sees the shadow move into the stall next to her in the bathroom.

 She gets a call from her brother, but all that she gets is the creepy sound of a door creaking. She drops a stuffed bear, and then leans to grab it and a dark haired ghost presents its head. Wisely she runs. Foolishly she sends the building's security guard up after it to his death. But it is not in vain, she watches on CC tv and gets to see... she runs away before she can see and we just know he vanishes after a bit of darkness was creeping up him. Very politely she closes the elevator door in a lady's face, meaning she's alone, alone isn't safe. Alone is where the ghost child watches you. Alone is how he follows you. Every floor. Watching you.

 I can already say this is probably the best scare movie I've watched this month. It may not be the scariest, but I've enjoyed it more than the Descent.

 And she got a call from her brother asking her apartment number, went to the door, saw him there, opened it and he was gone and the phone made the noise of the ghost. She's run inside, unplugged the phone and ... is hiding under the covers. I'm not sure about that, but now she's trying to watch TV and the TV is freaking out and... She is rightfully scared.

 CREEPY STUFF HAPPENS, GHOST IS IN HER COVERS FEET ARE UP

 Toyama section. I think Toyama is the jerk from the Rika section.

 The old lady is dead now. She had aged much in the short time since something happened to her daughter-in-law, and Rika is completely non-responsive.

 How long was it before he checked on Rika and the old lady I wonder?

 Still the house is murdering now and they've got a whole bunch of people in it (the cops have been called). They find the son and daughter in law dead in the attic.

 I should put my feet down, but the ghost child might get them (and this is more comfy on current chair).

 We also have a name Toshio. Toshio is the ghost child. But we've seen two ghosts I think.

 Feet are down. Feet are down is scarier. Kayako, Takeo, and Toshio. The family from the beginning. Husband killed wife then found dead. That's how it began. Or so it seems.

 The detective who was in charge of the original investigation quit the force and is the only survivor who was involved. That's nice.

 Creepy stuff happens. I am glad there is no one jumping out to say boo. Welfare Bully (not Toyama but something that I failed to catch; Hirohashi) is dead. Toyama is the old detective. He is doomed now; his name is the section title. Actually Rika survived and she was a woman and in the house but.

 Still we have two ghosts. Small child ghost (Toshio). And shadow lady demon ghost (Kayako) who is capable of looking at you through security footage. That's creepy. I am liking this movie.

 They've come for Rika my feet are up.

 Toyama has decided to burn the house down. I think this is gonna fail. After all there are sequels, also it just feels too early in the film for that. The house is fucking with him. Showing him scenes from some past. Toyama has been distracted and the cops are looking for her. Still he has to make sure there's not teenager upstairs before burning the house down with schoolgirls inside. Actually they might really have been there, but it feels wrong... and I think the girl who left had the same name as his daughter.

 I hear a cat in the other room, it adds to the creep. The ghost lady is crawling around in a crabwalk, and Toyama is found by the cops in the midst of unintelligible panic. They see why and he runs. They are paralyzed with fear as the ghost comes and that close-up is too close.

 The new section is the schoolgirl who ran Izumi. Her friends are missing. Her last name is Toyama. So this is the future? Or was Izumi the girl's older sister? Rika just went missing... or was her mom listening to a recording from when her dad went missing too. I miss something in his conversation with small child that would tell. Izumi has taped up her windows to keep the ghosts out and her schoolgirl friends think she's crazy.

 She believes the three missing girls are looking in on her. And she is wearing a hidey hoodie.

 Feet are back down.

 Izumi is crazy. I am not blaming her. But she's gone off the deep end.

 Her mom starts talking about that being how her husband was before he died; that he did the same thing with the windows and curtains. She is a broken shell and fears her daughter will die the same way. So yeah house showed him the future. House exists outside of time and space. Izumi is a demon in pictures having pure black eyes... so do the three missing girls. It is the curse.

 I am rooting for Izumi to survive. The despair hoodie bring out my sympathies. I like hoodies. Plus the time is about right that it's possible, and she's seeing the ghost of her father. As for the time I feel it's in the last third of the movie, and they're developing Izumi more in that she was important in the last section and this seems to be taking longer to get to the haunting. So it's possible, though far from assured; I'd have to check the time, 30 minutes remaining and she's dead, even 20 and it's a tossup, 10 and she's probably going to live.

 Something has torn off her taped up newspapers of window blocking, forming a tiny hole for the ghosts of her friends to watch her through. They're coming for her. Feet are still down. And chief ghost lady has grabbed her head. She's dead. Pulled into the little altar her mother was praying for her dead husband at.

 New section is Kayako... the first victim? And we still have ~20 minutes left (after Izumi's death I had to check). We also have Rika again? I thought she got grabbed... I guess she didn't get grabbed till about when Rika did.

 A cat touched her leg and Toshio is under the table. She looks older than in the first section, which is well done.

 Rika's friend is at the house. Less ghostly Toshio is there. Rika is returning to the house, passing the police tape, to try and save her. Mariko's footsteps are in the dust. The bright, sunny house she saw is not the one we are now.

 CREEPY STUFF HAPPENS.

 Feet are up.

 They're in your reflection you can't escape now. And coming out of your shirt!

 I am torn between scared and almost laughing at the blood drenched crab walking ghost. Like she's been scary doing this before, but coming down the stairs in fake blood it manages to cross some line and I lightly lose the ability to take it serious. Off the steps it gets better, and we get every scene of Kayako it feels like, before Rika is alone in the house. But we heard the news of her disappearance. Ah Kayako's husband is coming. Kayako isn't killing he is? At least Rika he's going to kill as Toshio watches.

 No one survives. We see an empty town, flyers for the missing littering it. No one survives. Final Creep. Ending Credits. Upbeat music to help recover from creep.

 I want the lights on. I have to walk through a cluttered path in the dark for that. Fire and Brimstone.