#I didn't talk about the talk segment much sorry!
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Curiosity Killed The Cat
prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.
pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Marvel
collection masterlist: Clingy Baby
word count: 5.1k+
note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.
warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.
Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.
You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.
Rooted.
But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.
You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.
This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.
You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?
Curiosity, indeed.
Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...
"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."
"And the jalapeños?"
"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."
"Cream cheese?"
"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."
Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."
"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"
"Lemme pick you up."
"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."
He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"
"Let's do a white tonight, please."
"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "
"Hang on," you pleaded.
"What's wrong?"
"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"
"We haven't been to Paris in months."
You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."
Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."
"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"
"So, is that a yes?"
"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"
"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"
"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."
"I'll bring the camera."
"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"
"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.
"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"
"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"
There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "
"It's 15," he growled.
"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."
"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "
"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."
"Don't hurt her - "
"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."
The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.
He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).
For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.
"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."
You sniffled, unable to respond.
He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"
You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."
The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."
"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."
"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."
You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.
At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.
"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.
"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"
You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.
Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.
And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.
You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.
Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.
Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.
So now... To hear this... You were devastated.
You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.
You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.
"She's different, man."
"How so?" Sam wondered.
"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "
"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.
"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."
"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.
"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."
"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."
"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"
Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"
"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."
"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."
"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.
"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."
"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."
"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"
There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.
So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."
"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"
You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.
"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.
"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"
"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."
"Peach - "
"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.
"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"
"Sure."
Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"
You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.
Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.
Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?
You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"
"Out with Nat," you eased.
He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"
"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."
His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."
"I know."
"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.
And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.
When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."
The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.
You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.
Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.
Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.
Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.
After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.
"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.
"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.
"What?"
"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"
"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."
"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"
"About...?"
"Me."
"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."
Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.
"Huh?" Nat wondered.
"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.
"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."
Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"
"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"
"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."
"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.
"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."
"Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."
"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."
"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."
"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."
"They can take it."
"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"
"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.
"Bucky," she growled.
He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."
"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."
"Why lie, then?"
"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."
"No shit."
"Well, did you get into a fight?"
"No."
"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"
He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."
"You had to do something."
"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."
Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"
Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."
"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."
"I didn't mean - "
"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."
Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"
"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"
Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.
The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.
Clingy...
You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...
His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.
When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"
You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.
He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."
"I'm here."
"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.
"What's wrong?"
"You. You're what's wrong."
"What the fuck does that - "
"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."
You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.
"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "
"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."
"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."
You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "
"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."
You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."
"It's not."
"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."
He nodded, "What else can I do?"
"Nothing - "
"Peach."
You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"
"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.
"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"
"All right... Sure, okay..."
"And face masks."
He sighed, "Okay."
"And mani-pedis."
"Baby."
"You said you were making it up to me, right?"
He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."
"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."
"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."
"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."
"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."
You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.
Felt okay.
Appeared okay.
And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.
requesting rules and masterlist
Marvel masterlist
Clingy Baby collection masterlist
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel au#mob bucky barnes#mob bucky au#mob bucky x reader#mob bucky x you#mafia au#mafia bucky barnes#mafia bucky x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes hurt/comfort
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My best explanation of our newest resident freak; Ramb.
Character analysis, loose ends, and questions.
I hope you like long winded “under the cut” posts about the obscure lore of irrelevant side characters.
(don't worry, I'm adhd, there's pictures and gifs.)
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This is both an outlet for me to yell my thoughts and emotions about a fictional British power strip into the void, and an explanation on what the fuck happened to me for the people who followed me for gaster (sorry to those people, btw :’))
This will be divided into sections so that if you're specifically interested in one topic about him, then you could just skip to it! :]
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The sections are:
First impressions; sword-route first timers VS casual players
Character analysis
The matter of ERAM.
Red flags (the red stands for “is this the secret boss?”)
Red flags 2 (the red stands for “is he okay”)
He's just a red herring, right? (well…)
What he is in this story, and will he be more? (Conclusion)
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Let's get cracking.
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First impressions; sword route first timers VS casual players.
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This section will go over what you'd see from him on a standard run, and won't go too into analysis. It's mainly here if you aren't very familiar with his appearances in the game or need a refresher!
Feel free to skip to Character Analysis if you think this section will be redundant for you :]
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(I really wanted to have this section be a part of the full post, but it's. Almost half of the entire thing. Also it ate up the 30 images limit.)
(So here, I posted it separately! Have a read through it if you wanna! <3)
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Character analysis:
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So… we sure do learn a lot about this random guy, huh?
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First off, you’ve probably noticed that he’s very contradictory;
He’s caring and kind towards Kris, but he fully believes his intuition about them, and never thinks he might be wrong and should hear them out (although, with how much he’s shown to care about them, I'm sure that if Kris could and would speak out, he’ll listen to them. But they can’t, because of us)
He's extremely confident, overly self assured, to the point of getting perceived as egotistical by the other darkners, but he doesn't think of himself that highly, equating himself to his light world counterpart many times as if he isn't a person now, and being fully willing to give his life up for kris.
He’s said to be condescending to others, at least at first, but we’ve only seen kindness and care from him, probably because we’re talking to him as Kris. But his jokes and down to earth attitude seem integral to his character, and we know he didn't do anything worse than just look out for Kris.
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These contraindications are a part of why he seems so shady to people, how can he be all these things at once? He has to be lying.
But this is just being a complicated person, like everyone else. And if you'll continue reading you’ll see that these inconsistencies actually make a lot of sense :] i’ll try my best to go through everything!
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(this segment is a bit all over the place since it’s the first one i wrote, but there's a summary at the end :])
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Let's start with how he confident he is about his beliefs;
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I saw someone say that he's acting in the way a parasocial fan would, and while I get where they're coming from what with him reiterating "I know what you really want" a lot-
but it feels less like he's putting them on a pedestal and objectifying them (in fact, he's doing the complete opposite and objectifying himself) and more like he's that well meaning, distant older relative who adored you when you were younger, and hasn't yet caught up to the fact that you grew up.
A person who used to know you, who knew the child you were, and their love for you from back then still blinds them to how you've changed.
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Mixed with his overconfidence, it makes sense that he’d believe that he knows Kris as well as they know themselves, while completely oblivious to his own blindness.
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But how can he be so self assured but still view himself as lowly?
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That's because we're playing as Kris! I doubt he’d talk about himself that way to anyone else.
Kris, and how they made him feel important, is the source of his confidence. He was loved and wanted by them, and so he feels like he owes them everything. Even his own life.
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Another interpretation is that his loneliness (which we will get to) lowered his self worth outside of being Kris's toy, and he feels like that is the only thing that gives him value.
So his personality isn't completely demolished, but he doesn't really invest much time or thought into himself as a person (evidenced by how he never talked about himself to the other darkners, only about Kris.)
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you'd think that a character with an inflated ego, like he’s said to have, would be self-absorbed and egotistical, but not him. He seems to diminish his presence when speaking with Kris, never going into detail about himself.
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But with how off putting his behaviour is, it's really hard to believe he has our best interest at heart- he constantly remarks how he knows what kris “truly wants”, and he really wants us to play the creepy game in the console room-
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We’ll get to the nature behind the game in a future segment (the matter of Eram), but for now let's just assume he really does want us to have fun;
His off putting behavior stems from a lack of tact. He's stuck in the memories of the Dreemurr family’s past, and he’s sure that Kris remembers him fondly. And maybe they would’ve, but I doubt they want to think about anything from their past considering… everything.
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Speaking of their past! We weren't there! We didn't see the playing and fun they had together, most of the time when we play Deltarune we don't even think about kris- we just play the game.
To us Ramb is a stranger being overly familiar- to Ramb, he’s catching up with an old friend, and he has no idea how much they’ve changed.
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Also, he doesn't force you to play the game! He doesn't even bring it up in the green room until after round 2, and only if you tell him you aren't having fun with Tenna. There's no pressure on you to finish all the levels if you only started one, either.
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(telling him that you are having enough fun with Tenna)
It's on our terms, and for our fun. He keeps going with it because we keep coming back. By his own admission, his purpose is to let us (Kris) have fun.
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Additionally, we can't ignore the silly. He's implied to be a jokester! The classics you've come to expect from these games; like sans, jevil, and even spamton, a little guy who makes funny faces and tells jokes.
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I also want to bring up his expressions; half of his sprites have that worrying, almost troubled expression, that gives the things he says a caring and gentle feeling. It's a part of the over-familiarity. From someone you know this would be fine, but he’s this way with us from the second we meet him.
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Now, let's bring up this bit of dialogue from before you start the second level of the mantle game:

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The first time I read this dialogue I was stun locked for a moment. He could've just admitted to feeling lonely. He could've just outright said it, it wouldn't feel out of place in this story, Tenna admitted to it multiple times even. But Ramb didn't.
Instead, he said that if after the fountain is sealed, then if Kris felt like waking up their house again then they could. If they wanted that to happen.
Fine, weird line from him, he's got plenty.
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"Sorry Kris. I don't know what I was saying there. Just go and enjoy the games, eh? cheers."
He felt embarrassed about admitting to feeling lonely! He always puts Kris first before anything else, and for a moment, he didn't. For a moment he mentioned that he'd like it if Kris came back after this was all over. That was weird, I'm sorry for saying that.
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From this we can learn that he really does feel alone. His one friend will be gone soon, and that's okay, they have to leave. But it’d be nice if they came back one day. not that he’s comfortable with admitting this to us.
(This is also a hint that he knows Kris created the fountain!)
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His similarities to Tenna :
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Looking at the core of their characters, Ramb was written as almost another version of what Tenna is. They both care about Kris so much, they’re both lonely, ageing and growing obsolete and they know it. The differences are in how they take it.
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Tenna is trying his best to cling to the past in fear of being thrown away, he's trying to prove to Kris that he's useful, fun, and could give them what they've been missing. This joyous nostalgic feeling they left in their childhood alongside everything that made them happy.
Throughout this entire chapter Tenna is trying to drag Kris back to that, back to him. He forces it on them when they don't comply, and fights them when they want to leave.
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and yes a part of that is because of the knight's promise, that if he’ll do this he’ll be adored again. But to ignore the part of his motivation that's specific to Kris and the Dreemurr family as a whole would be a disservice to his character. He cares about Kris and he misses them so much, he misses what he was to them back when they needed him. He wants them to need him again.
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Meanwhile Ramb is just as aware of his growing obsolescence as tenna is, but he seems to accept it. knowing that eventually, naturally, they’ll all be worthless.
It's a part of his role as a secret boss red herring (which I will elaborate on in its own section), a darkner who mentions their own insignificance and nihilistically accepts it naturally makes us wonder what else they're thinking about and what they know.
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Ramb accepts his approaching end and decides to go out with a bang. He sets up another game like the ones they loved playing and gives them the option whether to actually play it or not.
Don't get me wrong, he absolutely clings to kris (or more like the memory of them as a child) just like Tenna does, but there's a difference in how they go about their emotions that sets them apart as characters, and makes it so understandable that they wouldn't be fond of each other.
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While Tenna is stuck in the past because his self worth is dependent on it, Ramb is stuck in the past because instead of trying to make new connections in the new place he was brought to, he clung to and still clings to the first and only person who showed him love.
Ramb is completely okay with becoming obsolete, while Tenna’s life spiraled because he couldn't handle it. Tenna is desperate and controlling (fits his position as this dark world’s ruler and also his deal with the knight), while Ramb only gives you one hint to get S-rank, and only if you tell him you think Tenna's games aren't fun.
Tenna is constantly second guessing himself and worrying over doing a good job, while ramb’s excessive confidence makes him 100% sure that he knows exactly what Kris wants, and that they’ll love the games he’s offering more than Tenna’s.
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They originate from the “same root” in a sense, but due to their different personalities, they’re complete opposites in the way they handle knowing they’re no longer as meaningful to their loved ones as they used to be.
Also, I'd feel remiss not to mention that Ramb quit his job while on a call with Tenna, then hung up on him.
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We don't talk about this enough me thinks. He's such a piece of shit sometimes lmfao
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I wish we got to see Ramb interacting with other people besides Kris, I think it would tell us a lot. Because he made so much of who he is about Kris, then of course his behavior would be one way with them, and different with others. How drastically it would change would say a lot about him as a person.
We did get it with Tenna a little, but he generally doesn't like him for reasons that seem to be unrelated to kris
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In conclusion:
To us (Kris), Ramb is a friendly, self-assured (if a little bit arrogant) guy.
He clearly cares about and loves Kris a lot, calling them luv at every opportunity and trying to better their experience in this dark world by giving them access to what he thinks is a better game than what they got.
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The things he says to Kris and his worrying expression give him a caring and gentle air, which can have the opposite effect and come off as too forward and overstep boundaries for a lot of people.
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He's acting overly familiar with Kris, remembering them fondly from their time together as lightner and toy, and he’s sure that Kris is on the same page as him.
And although we can't really know for sure, because Kris doesn't express their feelings or thoughts, we can assume that their bond fizzled out on Kris's end. because since the last time Ramb knew them, they’ve put everything that made them happy as a kid aside.
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He's extremely confident, believing himself to be the one who knows Kris the best out of anyone here, and he’s sure they’ll love the original game from before Tenna messed with it a lot more than what they got in his game show.
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Even though he’s very confident, and it's viewed as him having an ego by his peers, he's not egotistical. as his confidence stems from being loved by Kris, and believing himself to know them the best, not thinking that he’s the best, as would be assumed of a character with an “ego”.
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Additionally, despite his obvious confidence, he seems to have relatively low-self worth outside of being Kris's toy, equating himself to his lightworld form often and never elaborating on himself as the person he is now, to us or the other darkners.
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As time goes on we learn that he's deeply lonely, doesn’t have any friends or anyone that really likes him, and it has been that way for a while. Pretty much since he was brought to the dreemurr house.
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Despite how lonely he is, and how much of his life revolves around Kris, he never imposes himself on them. There’s no point in the game where we have to speak with him.
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We don't know much about his side in his relationships, but he specifically doesn't really care for his boss Tenna, and thinks he and his games are boring.
Maybe he never really wanted the job that was given to him to get rid of him, since he’s the first one to actively tell Tenna that he’s quitting. He then proceeds to hang up in his face.
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Despite knowing that Kris is the creator of his fountain, he doesn't worship them or objectify them as a god, nor does he treat Kris the way darkners created by the knight treat the knight, their creator, with fear and admiration.
He acts more like one of your detached older family members who don't yet understand that you grew up. (His self diminishing seems to stem from low self worth and not worship.)
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Additionally, Ramb seems to not really care about respecting authority, a trait that is rare for darkners.
like how he treats Kris like family and not authority, And how he gives us access to the original game against Tenna’s wishes. Although it's important to mention that he thinks of himself as lesser than Kris.
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He's fully willing to sacrifice himself for us, to give himself up completely, if there is a chance that his efforts will work and Kris will have fun.
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The matter of ERAM.
And why they're not actually the same person (hear me out it makes ramb a better character.)
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I get why people are fond of it. Ramb being the person behind eram would be awesome and a cool twist for his character and add to his significance in the story.
And by all means! Go for it! It makes for an awesome visual and cool art!!
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But hear me out… when it comes to the intent of the story… narratively, it doesn't make any sense.
Sometimes kindness and seemingly well meaning actions in this game really are just that.
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Now before we begin, let's establish some things;
First of all; without anyone asking him to, Ramb has sacrificed a lot for Kris.
He gave up the opportunity to make any connections in the new place he was brought to, by always commenting on others and their work. This made him alienated from anyone he could've been friends with, because he staked everything he is and could’ve had on his purpose to his lightner.
In the path where you don't humor him, you end up learning how lonely he truly was, how no one could stand him, and how much his caring for and loving you alienated him, to the point of complete social isolation. To the point where he felt like he didn't belong where he was, and was already turning to stone on the inside a long time ago.
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His ostracization was mostly his doing, and it is rooted in caring.
(If there was any other reason that Ramb was outcasted, then the pippins who clearly disliked him wouldn't protect his image and would tell us.)
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And secondly; The mantle game changes with the insertion of the oddcontroller.
When you first turn on the console, the title screen comes up just like it does at the beginning of “The legend of Tenna”, Tenna’s version of the game. But no controller is connected and the console turns off. Leaving the room, we find the oddcontroller on the ground, it is said to have pink and yellow buttons.
When the oddcontroller is connected to the console, The game immediately glitches out and shows our soul, us, inside 8bit kris. That never happens in any other variation of the game.
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Everytime you play the game again, the title screen comes up like normal. Kris then connects the oddcontroller, the game glitches out, and shows us the soul. It seems that the thing causing the difference is the act of connecting the controller.
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Here are the main reasons i've seen for why people think Eram is Ramb:
Ramb is very off putting
They have similar names
Ramb really wants us to play his game, and it turns out to be a horrifying experience for kris
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Let's tackle em’!
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Ramb is very off putting.
That's by design! He’s supposed to evoke that feeling you get from distant family relatives who remember you from when you were younger, but you have no memory of them.
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Kris has been through a lot, we still don't know the exact events, but trauma is obvious and prevalent in their character. They've since put a lot of their joy aside. Their room is empty, they don't watch tv or play games anymore, they don't visit noelle, even just to play her piano, preferring the one in the hospital.
And Ramb is an old toy of Kris', from when they were a child. It wouldn't be unlikely that the last time they played with him was before they put their joys aside.
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Ramb would have no way of knowing everything that's gone on with Kris since they last saw each other, and he’d assume that their life’s just naturally continued without him, but remain sure that they still remember him fondly.
He views himself as your old friend, because that's what Kris and him were before, he doesn't know who Kris is anymore, and he has no idea.
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And on top of that, YOU as the player weren't there for it all- you didn't see Kris playing with Ramb, and you didn't see Ramb being happy to assist Kris in having fun. To you, Ramb is a stranger, and him acting overly familiar with you causes discomfort and unease.
And Ramb is only speaking with Kris, because he has no idea you're there controlling them.
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They have similar names
That they do, Eram and Ramb are only one letter apart. But does Ralsei having a name that's a 1 to 1 of Asriels, and even seemingly having similar personalities make them the same person? No, and I hope to god you don't still believe that. Please believe me when i say that Toby wouldn't put incest in his game.
Eram and Ramb are opposites. Ramb only wants Kris to have fun, while Eram is obsessed with making Kris suffer. Ramb wants us to play a game where we get to make choices, and Eram forces us to play the one route the oddcontroller allows for.
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(Also, stupidly, Eram isn't british)
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3. Ramb really wants us to play his game, and it turns out to be a horrifying experience for kris
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It's a little weird that Ramb tells us that this is a game where we decide what to do, but the only way to progress is through killing. Which is part of why people think he’s very sketchy and a liar.
But what if the original game, before the insertion of the oddcontroller, was exactly that? A game similar to undertale, where there are different paths you can take, where your choices determine the kind of game you play? A game where you CAN make choices?
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But with the oddcontroller, there’s only one path. only one option, a glitchy, game breaking option, the weird route.
I'd also like to bring up the name “odd controller”, in relation to what we do in the game and what that stands for- Odd is another word for weird.
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But sure, maybe Ramb was the one who put the odd controller in the hallway outside the console room, he is standing right outside the door after all. But if it's true that Ramb’s intention was for us to play the game with this controller, why not give it to us when we enter the room? We have to speak with him to enter anyway.
And why say that he “set up the game for us” if there's no controller connected? Just to wait a few seconds to leave it in the hallway?
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This is a story, fully written in advance. If the intention was for us to suspect or think this corrupt version of the game is what Ramb intended for us to play, why not have the oddcontroller already connected to the console? Then we as players would have no doubt that this experience was this character’s full intention.
That part, where you have to leave the room to find a controller that is different from the ones you're used to, seems to be there to separate Ramb from whoever wants us to play the mantle game’s version of the weird route.
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------------------
But hold on, what if Ramb is intentionally putting on a front, acting and lying to make us believe his two personas?
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…why? What would he gain from that? He already gets us curious enough to play the game as Ramb, why continue to put up a front even when he and Kris are completely alone, even at the very last moments of his life?
Speaking of which, how is he able to battle Kris as Eram when he’s shown to be almost fully stone, and unable to move himself enough to unblock the entry? To turn and look at us? How would he use a controller?
If he’s faking being stone too, then how? And what’s the reason? What does he gain?
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Also, if we are assuming he’s lying; then everything, his feelings, his character and his emotional issues, None of it was real. All that nuance, depth, character, It was all fake, a lie. For the plot twist that in fact he actually… thinks we're weird for enjoying the game?
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Narratively, it doesn't make sense. If he’s lying, why not reveal it? In his last moments with us, as Eram or Ramb, why not reveal that this entire time he just wanted us to suffer?
If he’s lying, then why are we repeatedly told, so many times, how lonely he was? How much he cared about Kris? Why is it said to us after he’s already gone, on the path where you don't even play his game, when the lie wouldn't matter?
The story doesn't benefit from the unclarity that this brings once Ramb and Eram are both already gone.
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I know that the main reason behind this theory is Ramb’s off-putting over familiarity, combined with the horrors the game harbours and how happy he is to show it to us.
But if you take his word that he really didn't see anyone come in (maybe whoever is behind Eram doesn't need to use the door), and look at the context of his life as this lonely guy suddenly seeing the god who gave him purpose as their toy, and brought him to life with the fountain, and understand that yeah, he’d be ecstatic.
Then him honestly looking out for Kris at every opportunity, even before he saw them again, makes a lot more sense than an unprovoked backstab.
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Eram has no issue with harming the real kris, both physically and emotionally. Before the fight begins, Eram taunts Kris, goes along with the game that's slowly changing from a standard rpg to a horror show about Kris's life and struggles.
If the player is on the weird route, they even accuse Kris of being a hypocrite, saying they’re blaming the soul for all the harm they caused, trying to feel better about themselves. And in the fight against them Kris takes real damage and can die.
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If Ramb were actually the one behind eram, then he was lying when he was looking out for what's best for Kris even when they weren't there… because? He alienated himself by constantly lying about caring for Kris… because??... and him letting himself die for us to continue having the fun he’s sure we're having… just to make fun of us- why??
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Remember that pippins who tells us all about how much ramb sucked and everyone hated him- If there was malice in Ramb’s intentions or behind his actions before we entered the dark world, that pippins would be the last person to hide it from us! Y’know, cus they hate him!!
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Ramb’s story is empty on purpose, it's supposed to be like this. It's supposed to give you the feeling of “this isn't all he is, right?” It's abnormally sad and I wish I could say that this is just me going overboard with my analysis of him, but this is literally just his actions and what we were told about him.
Ramb was written as the red herring for this chapter's secret boss, to me the twist about him was that after all of that he ended up to not be important, that after all of the hints and the winks, it turns out he doesn't know shit.
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Making him the person behind a character that clearly knows a lot and doesn't much care for Kris's well-being, erasing and warping the sincerity of everything he did, would take away from the gut punch that his last conversation with Kris or the explanation from that Pippins is trying to give us.
It would make for a hell of a twist, but is it worth it narratively? Does it make sense? Like no not at all. We're learning about this sad older guy trying to make the one person he’s sure still likes him happy no matter the cost, even if it costs him his life.
Just for a twist that he thinks they're weird for enjoying the games that he wanted them to play??
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So if Ramb isn't eram, who is?
I don't know, this post is about Ramb!!
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But I do have a guess that I'm rather confident about. I won't go into detail about it here cus i already derail this post at every opportunity, and also I want to write another dissertation of the mantle games specifically, separate from Ramb, so I'll save this for another time.
But in short, it’s Friend. And this was our first real look at them as a character and their role and purpose in this story.
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Red flags (the red stands for “is this the secret boss?”)
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I'm sure that a large majority of first time players looked at this manlet going on and on about “freedom”, and immediately thought that he’ll be the secret boss. Since, y’know, that was by design!
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Ramb was written to tick all the boxes of a secret boss. he’s short, hinted at being knowledgeable about things he shouldn't be, “freedom”, constantly referring to kris by name, quoting both Jevil and Spamton, playing a role only outside the main story, hell even the fact that he speaks differently than the rest of the darkners-
We're meant to look at him and immediately assume that at some point we’ll fight him and get the shadow crystal. Just like we assumed we’ll seal the fountain at the end of the chapter, and get a light world segment before going back home, watch Kris rip out their soul, and roll credits.
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Chapter 3 throws all of that out the window! And Ramb is a part of it. We assumed we know the way secret bosses work and will play out for the rest of the game, a part of the “Deltarune formula” that we were so convinced of. But we were wrong!
The way chapter 3 flirts with it and then completely shatters it and our expectations of what will be is a part of why i love these games so much.
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When a player stumbles upon a petrified Ramb, the thought that they messed up the sequence that leads up to the secret boss might cross their mind. While a player who got to the end of the sword game and watched as Ramb disappeared after the shadow mantle was acquired might feel confused;
yeah i just finished a cool mini boss, but that's hardly a secret boss, and i didn't even get a shadow crystal. wasn't that the lead up to something with the little guy?
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And when the lord of screens is cleaved red by blade is when it all shatters- we’d assume that after the fight with Tenna, Ralsei and Susie will talk to him, he’ll want to come to our castle town, we seal the fountain, ect ect. But instead, he falls to the ground, unconscious, and we are faced with the knight.
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We don't get to seal the fountain, we don't get a light world segment, and we don't get to see Kris rip us out. We don't get a secret boss. Deltarune was never meant to be predicted!
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Ramb, as the character that he is, is a part of the aforementioned flirting with the concept of a formula. Cus we do get a weird little guy who's spouting nonsense and acting odd- but he's not the secret boss, because we don't get one this chapter.
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(you might say that the knight is the secret boss… but aren't those supposed to be like… secret? The battle with the knight is unavoidable, and CAN be beaten without the shadow mantle if you just don't get hit- so… it's just a regular battle like Tenna or Queen. Just an extremely tough one that you're meant to die to at the end.
If you survive for long enough you get a weapon and a crystal, but guys-
The fight isn’t hidden. It's unavoidable. It can be beaten even without the shadow mantle. The flavor text “The air crackles with freedom” doesn’t show up in the fight. The knight doesn't have the freedom leitmotif in its theme.
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Before the chapter came out I was lamenting on what “no mantle, no crystal.” means. I thought that we’d acquire the shadow mantle somehow and only then will the battle be able to trigger, like without it there wouldn't even be a fight! (Like how you can’t climb without the gear that jackenstein gives you.)
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I'm of the opinion that we shouldn't expect all the chapters to play out exactly the way we thought, not having a standard secret boss encounter this chapter was intentional, and there's no real reason to try and fit the knight or Eram into boxes they don't fit-
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So… what all this talk about Ramb as if he actually was the secret boss? If he truly is just a red herring gotcha moment side character npc, why the 16K words essay?
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As much as I want to keep my expectations grounded, there are certain things that don't fit the description of just “red herring”. I truly wish he was just that, and could be spared from the horrors of being a shadow crystal bearer, or being a significant character in this story (that never seems to be easy), and I could be spared from writing the rest of this.
But there are just too many loose ends, questions, information we were given for seemingly no reason- that make me wonder what Toby has in mind.
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Red flags 2 (the red stands for “is he okay”)
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This section will go through and analyse the more emotional aspects of his character and what he is in this story. Less “why was he put here” and more “how does he feel about being put here”. The feels, if you will.
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Let’s start by bringing up the infamous roast session;
While we do learn a lot about Ramb when talking directly to him, we learn a whole lot more after he’s gone, from the random pippins that seems to stand in for the rest of the darkners that knew him.
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First of all, just the fact that we learn more about ramb from someone else rather than himself says a lot. I already mentioned it in the character analysis part, but he seems to never really focus on himself during our conversations with him, and would much rather talk about Kris and what they want and how they feel, in a way that is reminiscent of ralsei.
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One of the differences between them being that while ralsei is truly trying his best to look for kris through our inputs on their behavior, building them up and cheering us both on,
ramb, thanks to how confident he is, thinks he knows exactly what kris wants without second guessing himself for a second (until the very end)
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(he was somehow right? Which adds to how he was made to make people think he’ll be the secret boss because he knew Kris wanted “freedom”. but this is just his lucky assumption, and has to do with what games Tenna is allowing Kris to play, not how Kris wants to be free from our control. Ramb had no idea.)
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(not to even get into how the mantle games vs Tenna’s version of them are a meta commentary on Deltarune’s linear story and how breaking out of if and achieving “freedom” comes at a great cost for the characters, that is a WHOLE other conversation and we’re talking about power strip mental health right now not this-)
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Just for a second, I wanna bring up the fact that he's a plugboy. While yes the plugboys from chapter 2 do differ from each other visually, they’re all clearly the same darkner species, and they all resemble plug types that would be of the same, mostly american socket type.
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While Ramb is a European plug type. He’s fundamentally different. (Note how different Ramb looks to the other plugboys, and his smiling expression vs the original plugboys naturally ‘surprised’ look)
It's impossible to connect an American plug to this type of socket. What I'm trying to say is; he couldn’t connect with anyone.
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Back when I played chapter 3 for the first time and learned Ramb was from the library, I thought it was really weird. What, he was essentially kidnapped and no one in chapter 2 said anything?
No one mentioned a plug named “ramb”, not even talked about a purple plugboy who used to live here. Not even “a plugboy” who’s now gone. I shrugged it off as extremely light retconning, maybe he was written after chapter 2 was completed.
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But when I think about it now, it makes total sense. The reason he didn't seem to mind being taken from his original dark world, his home, the reason he adores Kris so much, and why no one in cyber world mentioned him or said anything about him being gone;
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it's because he didn't matter to anyone back there either. The first time he felt loved and wanted was as Kris's toy.
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Of course he'd get attached to them, I'm honestly surprised he isn't constantly imposing himself on us- there isn't a single point in the game where you have to talk to him, if you never choose to do that, you don't even learn his name.
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Similarly to Tenna, Ramb clung to the past, to that time in his life he felt happy and loved. He couldn't (or wouldn't) move on.
No one in Cyber world liked him, no one in the dreemurr house liked him, so he gave up. He no longer tried to make connections with new people. Instead of retaining who he is and living for himself, even if no one likes it, he let himself get stuck in the memories of being loved, once, a long time ago.
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Inside, he was probably stone already.
Back to the infamous roast session, specifically to the last thing that was said about him there;
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“Inside, he was probably stone already.”
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Have you ever seen a more obvious depression metaphor?
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In chapter 3, a darkner turning to stone was revealed to be connected to a mental and emotional state, and not just where the object is originally from, which to be honest, in retrospect makes a lot more sense.
(What if an object was somewhere it didn't belong when a fountain was created, then brought back to the place they belong, would they turn to stone just because they happen to be somewhere else first? Also turning to stone being more about feelings just fits these games doesn't it. anyway)
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One of the very first things that we learn about Ramb, straight from him, is how Kris and Asriel brought him to their house from the library, maybe around the time Noelle and Kris played make believe with other objects from there and the unused classroom.
But that's all we learn from him about why he's here and how he feels about it. Which is to say we learn nothing because he never elaborates about himself-
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Then, after he’s turned to stone, we learn from the pippins that after Ramb was brought here by kris, he cared about them so much that he made sure the others are thinking about them and what's best for them too, because to him their plans weren’t good enough for kris. He wanted the very best for them.
His fixation on Kris and his condescending attitude that was perceived as ego isolated him as he turned insufferable in their eyes.
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Tenna wanted to get rid of him, no one liked his humor, he rarely got any customers, and no one will even care that he’s gone. Other newcomers in the house fit in fine, while he never truly belonged. The pippins is relieved if you tell them that you don't wanna hear more about him.
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Turning to stone on the inside. Being stone as you still continue to live. A darkner turns to stone when they feel like they don't belong, when even if they try their hardest to fit in, they don't have a place that’s for them where they are. When their connections can't save them and they want to be somewhere else, someone else.
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Ramb felt like he didn't belong here so badly that the feeling manifested, turning him to stone from the moment the fountain opened, maybe even before.
It's depression. Moreover, it's like smiling depression- he never lets us see any of it, he smiles and is friendly with us, there's no reason to think anything is wrong until you learn more about his situation.
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Kinda reminds you of someone, right?
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“How about the usual?”
That joke should be familiar to true truck freaks;
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“i’ll take the usual.”
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It's the same joke Sans made when he first came to Grillby’s. The differences being that while sans told it as a first time customer, Ramb told it as a first time bartender. And of course, people laughed at Sans's joke, and immediately accepted him as the old timer he joked about being, while no one laughed with Ramb.
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The similarities between sans and Ramb are kinda like when you learn a new word and start seeing it everywhere;
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They're both shorties
They both mask their depression with humor and an unassuming, modest attitude
They both constantly smile
They both wink a lot
Both are in worlds they don't belong in
Both never go into detail about themselves
Both refer to the player character as a friend immediately
Both seem to build up all they are around someone else (Sans with Papyrus and Ramb with Kris)
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It's not that this implies they know each other or anything- the only thing these similarities tell me is that we’re given more about Ramb's personality and ‘vibe’ through a character he’s similar to and we're already familiar with.
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Like, what if sans didn't have papyrus constantly at his side? What if no one liked his jokes? What if he couldn't make friends? What if he didn't have the ability to control where he went? What if he felt truly, deeply, alone?
While their personalities and circumstances are obviously not identical, I think these similarities are very interesting.
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(Just for the sake of not mischaracterizing sans, we're in 2025 not 2016, I wanna clarify that I'm aware a big part of sans' pain stems from his inability to go anywhere outside Undertale as a universe (wherever or whatever “going back” means), but I was thinking more like. What if he was just stuck inside MTT resort, y’know?)
—-
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Implications that he doesn’t value himself as a person
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If you were suddenly face to face with the one person who ever liked you, after years of being apart, if under their gaze, you felt more appreciated as a person than you have in all the years since you've last seen them, what would you do?
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I'd hope to god your answer isn't anything close to what Ramb did.
Because this guy gave up on so much of his life for Kris, even before he saw them again, until he gave up his life for them completely.
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In his last moments with us, he continues to try and make sure Kris has fun.
Knowing he will soon turn to stone, as far he knows, forever, He still continues to try and please Kris.
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He’ll watch out for Kris for as long as he's conscious enough to see and speak.
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He sees his own uncooperative body not as a detriment to himself, but a bother for Kris, who now has to shove him out of the way, because he started to die before he could unblock the entry to the room.
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Instead of doing anything for himself before he fully turns to stone, he chooses to set up one last game for us. His smile never falters and he wishes us a fun time.
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I mentioned this before, but this part of his behavior is very reminiscent of Ralsei.
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Ralsei’s beliefs about himself and how much of a person he should be allowed to be finally started to get challenged in chapters 3 & 4, to the relief of everyone who knew he wasn't evil.
But before those beliefs started to get questioned by the game, he constantly allowed himself to be walked over, hurt, and ignored by everyone.
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The way he behaved was incredibly off putting, making a large portion of the community think he’s secretly the villain and will have a heel turn in the story where he backstabs us all- but it turns out he hid information from us because he views the knowledge he has as a burden. He doesn't want us to know what he knows because he cares about us.
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He’s okay with getting hurt, he’s okay with taking pain meant for us, protecting us from harm's way, because he doesn't yet view himself as a person worth protecting. He doesn't even view himself as a person.
When we learned this, suddenly all the oddities about him and the way he acted made sense. No one still believes he’s secretly evil.
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Ramb is similar in a way. He views himself as a darkner, an object, first, and a person second. He exists for his lightner, the kid who gave him purpose as a toy, an item of play and fun.
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He’s aware that in reality, he's just a power strip. and because he knows that while the lightners change, darkners don't, he understands that Kris views him as obsolete. He doesn't see himself as someone (something) worth saving.
His purpose, a darkners purpose, is to assist his lightner. His self proclaimed purpose is to let Kris have the fun they want. What he wants is irrelevant, he shouldn't even have needs or wants in the first place, there's no reason for it.
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It's okay if he’s dying. It's okay if he’s already stone on the inside. He keeps setting up the levels in the console room because we keep coming back to play, because we’re having fun. Whatever Ramb wants doesn't matter as much as Kris's fun does.
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While Ralsei thankfully has Susie and Kris by his side to constantly remind him that he matters, until the day he’ll hopefully fully believe it himself, Ramb is completely alone. He doesn't have anyone who cares about him, likes him, or would cry for him once he’s gone.
He hasn't yet realized, or maybe he’s never been told that he matters outside of his “role” as a darkner. And maybe he never will.
—--------
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No one will shed a tear for him
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This part may be a bit more speculative of me and not really something that's out right said, but it's important for me to mention
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Before you finish the mantle game and Ramb disappears, if you hug the hall in front of where he guarded the door, you walk through a hidden hallway and enter his stand.
You can watch Susie and Ralsei play the game they were talking about, but you're unable to interact with them. Just watch as they’re having fun without you.
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It's an adorable Susie and Ralsei moment that I'm glad we got, look at them go! It's nice to actually see the characters doing the things they say they do. But i think that maybe we got the option to walk here for another reason
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This is Ramb’s point of view. His name is above where you stand. This is how he experiences the world. He's in the background, in the darkest area of the green room, looking at all the folks coming and going, laughing, smiling, bonding, while he’s unable to join.
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Fully his own decision by the way, you can leave this room and go back to your adventures with your friends, he can leave his stand too.
Not that anyone is waiting for him to, though. So what's the point?
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Loneliness is overwhelming. It's an all encompassing feeling that paints everything and everyone you see, and once it's got its talons in you, it begins to feel impossible to overcome.
Even at times where you could fight it and win, if it sunk in already, it may just feel pointless, and you chose to lose a winnable battle.
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I doubt that in the entirety of Kris's house, there isn't a single darkner who would, at the very least, tolerate him. At best, genuinely like him and enjoy being his friend. But ramb knew loneliness in Cyber world, and its familiar sting found him in the Dreemurr house. Why try again?
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it's not like he needs it from the other darkners anyway, right? After all, he has someone who likes him. His lightner likes him, and that's more than enough.
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It's okay if they've not seen each other in years. It's okay if they never will again after the fountain is sealed. He has fulfilled his purpose in making sure they're happy.
That's more than enough. Nothing matters more than their happiness, not even him.
—-----
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So let's walk through what we can assume his life was like;
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He arrived at the library, as the only European plug there. Maybe he was accidentally purchased by someone who didn't notice that he had a socket type that they couldn't use with the rest of the plugs there.
He couldn't bond with any object in the library because he wasn't compatible with them, maybe they just didn't get along or the conversations didn't flow. No one there really cared about him, and he remained alone.
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Then, one day, a monster and a human decided to take him and bring him home with them.
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The human treated him like any one of their toys, and they played with him. He assisted them in having fun. He felt wanted, appreciated, useful, this was the first time in his life that he felt loved. He finally had a purpose.
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The other objects in this house just didn't get it, did they? this wonderful human was kind enough to give himself and all of them a home, they should be everyone's priority!
He tried to get them to focus their efforts on making the human happy, but nothing they ever did was good enough for them, he felt like he was the only one that really knew them, the only one who cared.
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The other objects started to get sick of him. and while they adjusted to their new life here just fine, finding friends and things to do, a place for themselves, he didn't. Again, he couldn't make a single friend.
He stuck to his beliefs, never questioning himself; if caring for my lightner is what got me to this point, then I don't regret it for a second. The one person who ever loved him deserves the best the world has to offer. He did not flinch when, from within, slowly, he began to turn to stone.
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The human grew up, and stopped playing with toys. Ramb continued his life as it was before, always thinking of his lightner, wondering how they're doing.
Until, one day, he saw them opening a dark fountain.
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His lightner is back! What joy! The one person who ever loved him, the one who gave him purpose, is right here!
He wondered why they opened a fountain right now, maybe it was fun that they were missing? And with the mind-numbing games his boss is making them play they're not getting any fun anytime soon.
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So he decided to fulfill his purpose. He set up the game that Tenna changed into that snooze-fest. The original version. The kind of game where you get choices. The story isn't linear, you can fight your way to the ending, or make friends that carry you through it.
(not that he knew of the controller he set up disappearing, and a corrupted one being left in the hallway by someone else)
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But if they choose not to play the game, that’s fine too. If they actually are having enough fun on Tenna’s game show, then that's fine. He won't force them to play his game, his purpose is to make sure Kris is having fun, not to be the fun they have.
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But if they do want to play his game? He’ll make sure they can until his very last moment. As he’s fully turning to stone, he doesn't care. His personhood doesn't matter, it never did. The only thing of value he has ever done was assist his lightner in their fun, way back when.
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He just wants them to have the fun they deserve, again.
—--------
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That's who he is in the story of chapter 3. A lonely darkner stuck in the past, who gives himself up for you to be able to have the fun you used to have, the fun you had back when he was useful, unwilling to move on from when he was loved by you.
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In a more meta sense though, he was also the perfect secret boss red herring;
A lonely, abandoned toy, with unexplored thoughts and feelings about his worth as a toy and what he means in the grand scheme of things. Seeing him in this chapter was supposed to make us believe, because of past experiences with these types of guys in this game, that he’ll be the secret boss.
But he wasn't, that’s a part of his character of being forgotten, and it's intentional.
--------------
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Okay, so he's not the secret boss, he's not Eram, and he was written to just be a red herring.
That's all he is in this story.
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Right?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He's just a red herring, right? (well…)
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Then:
Why did we need to know so much about him?
Why isn't he in castle town?
Why doesn't he fully turn to stone?
Why was it important that we know he saw Kris make the fountain?
Why was it important to imply that something happened to him after the sword route?
…Why doesn't the knight make the air crackle with freedom?
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----------
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Why did we need to know so much about him?
Beyond being a red herring, we learn so much about him as a character that doesn't go anywhere. Like his story was supposed to be something but got cut short.
Imagine if after Spamton gave you all this weird information in his shop, he turned to stone and THEN all the Addisons would show up and talk about him. It feels empty, like something was meant to be there, alongside all the information. some big break or moment that would give the character we slowly learned about over the course of the chapter closure.
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If he truly isn't and wasn't meant to be anything significant, then why are we given so much information on him? Why are we being made to wonder about him? Why are we being made to care?
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Even in runs where you don't play the mantle games, and all Ramb was to you was the funny little guy giving you prizes in the green room, you end up getting so much information about him out of nowhere. I know first time players that were genuinely weirded out by it- why is it there by a point where his importance really wouldn't matter to you??
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But that could be a part of him being a red herring, we're learning about him as a character and thinking “oh this guy is absolutely the secret boss”, then the twist is that he isn't.
And that's true! That seems to be the idea Ramb was created for. But I wouldn't write all this if there wasn't more
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Why isn't he in castle town?
We didn't get too many unique characters in chapter 3; Tenna, Lanino, Elnina, Shuttah, and Ramb are really the only significant ones, they all even show up at the beginning of the chapter before the first board.
Ramb is one of the 5 unique characters we got in chapter 3, they're all in castle town, except him, no matter if we do the sword games or not. there was no reason not to put him there and give him like 2 lines of unremarkable dialogue.
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Spamton was a unique character in chapter 2, but he doesn't show up in castle town either, even if we don't fight him as spamton neo.
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“certain bosses are excluded.” as if Ramb was meant to be something he ended up not being.
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Why doesn't he fully turn to stone?
(original image by @/unikhroma)
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If it was just 1 pixel I wouldn't mention it, if it was two I'd be surprised that the flood fill tool the deltarune team is using is so uncooperative. If it was three I'd raise an eyebrow but not proclaim anything.
It's four. It's four uncolored, obvious pixels on his petrified sprite??? One of them is a part of his mouth and very visible????
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Not to mention how his eyes are still black like they were before- when lancer turns to stone, the big spade on his face that acts as an expressive mask of sorts turns gray like the rest of him, making him look much more like a statue.
But ramb looks awake, just frozen and grayscale. (I find it interesting that in his half stone sprite his left eye is obscured in shadow, would it be black or gray?)
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And why is it that when we interact with him behind his stand, instead of getting “Some kind of stone statue”, we get blocked by the pippins, as if when we’d interact with it we wouldn't get that description?
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Why was there a need to imply he's still conscious? Why did we need to wonder if he heard everything that was said about him?
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Why was it important that we know he saw Kris make the fountain?
While it is very possible that other characters are aware that Kris made the fountain- even Tenna, who's the ruler of this dark world, doesn't outright call Kris their creator.
For some reason, this little british guy, supporting cast member no.5, is the only darkner as of yet, in the entire first half of the game, to knowingly speak with their creator on screen, and outright say they saw them make the fountain.
Why him? Why now? Why no one else?
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Why was it important to imply that something happened to him after the sword route?
When we exit the console room after getting the shadow mantle, Ramb is gone. He could've been outside as he was before, just fully turned to stone and giving the same prompt of “Some kind of stone statue”. But sure, maybe he's gone for tonal reasons. We leave right after the scene with Susie after all.
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But it was so important to Toby that we know Ramb didn't just walk away off screen or disappear without a reason, that he gave the dust bunny in the s rank room a unique shocked sprite so we’d know to talk to it.

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“I was so scared, Ramb was..” doesn't tell us much. Did something scary happen to him? Did he do something that scared them?
And why do we need to think about that in the first place? Isn't he supposed to just be an irrelevant statue by this point? Why was it important enough to be told to us?
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Why doesn't the knight make the air crackle with freedom?
Think about it. When spamton turns into the dealmaker/puppet scarf he becomes a little glimmer and falls down to us, and we get both the item he turned into and the shadow crystal he held.
The part that chipped off the knight's sword was the Black Shard, not the shadow crystal. They were just holding it, it wasn't a part of them.
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And, they don't have the freedom motif in their theme…
And “The air crackles with freedom” doesn't show up during their fight…
and they’re an unavoidable battle, unlike Jevil, Spamton, or Gerson.
And… They’re repeatedly said to have arrived late. Almost as if, if they had arrived in time, and Tenna wouldn't have had to stall the show so much, they could do what they came to do, whatever that was.
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The knight didn't mean for things to happen the way they did!
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I think the implication is that, if the knight wasn't late, one of the probable many dastardly activities it would be up to, would be to give Ramb the shadow crystal it was holding.
Interesting too that their plan this chapter is prophesied to fail (lord of screens, cleaved red by blade), while we're trying to break the prophecy.
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If the prophecy was broken this chapter and the knight did all they wanted perfectly, would we have fought Ramb?
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You might notice that most of these end with questions, and that's the point. We're not being told everything there is to know. For some reason, we're being made to ask questions.
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I'll be honest, if you make some assumptions you could probably find answers to most of these, but I can't, even with assuming things like; he's Eram, or he's truly not someone we're meant to care for- (those cancel each other out btw) Find an explanation to everything.
If you figure out an answer to one, another falls apart.
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And I'm not trying to find the answers to these questions, I'm just pointing them out, because for an irrelevant side character those are a shit ton of loose ends. That's what's weirding me out! Why are we being made to ask questions about someone who's made to be insignificant??
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This isn't a Mike situation where the answer was just “we don't know” and a pun about “real mike” (brilliant, btw)
Mike was a question for years at this point, but he had no answer because there wasn't meant to be one, we made the question of “who's mike” up!!
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But with Ramb we're given the character and the questions at the same time, something is being built, but there's no way for us to know what right now. For now we just have the questions.
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Isn't he a cryptic shopkeeper and that's it?
Not really? he doesn't have a shop menu, there's no option to sell him anything, there's no extended talk option, and you can't even buy anything from him and it's being pointed out in game;
“Gotta use that vending machine though, Tenna doesn't like us… touching the points.”
“Mixing drinks for himself, he wasn't allowed to handle the points”
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He's the least shopkeeper a shopkeeper ever was. Even the old man in chapter 4 had a more proper shop.
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Alright, so he’s a shopkeeper narratively, not literally. the Seam to Jevil, Swatch for Spamton.
Is he Eram’s shopkeeper?
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Seam hinted at Jevil’s existence the very first time we met them, they gave us a part of the key to his cell, and once we beat him they expanded on his story and downfall.
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Swatch hinted at someone stealing their look, breaking into the mansion, they shush you up if you bring up the basement. And after you beat spamton, they tell you what they knew of him, and how they saw everything as it went wrong.
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Ramb didn't know Eram existed. He didn't understand why Kris thought someone was in the back with them, he didn't see anyone come in.
In Ramb's mind he just gave Kris a classic NES game like the ones they played as a kid, where you can go around with your sword and level up, or play peacefully, completing side quests and talking to the characters.
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With how much he cares about kris, it's obvious he had no idea there would be a harmful taunting creature in there, calling their name and changing the game to give them a worse time, he didn't have to tell us that to his knowledge no one was back there with them, but he still did.
Sometimes things should be taken at face value.
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The shopkeepers to secret bosses dynamic seems to exist so that we could learn more about the secret bosses stories and about them as characters. We've seen two instances where the shopkeeper and the secret boss knew each other, but because they're there just to give us more information on them, then they don't really have to.
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Ramb could’ve given us information in a backwards way, saying things that include game or lore hints that would make sense to us but still show that he has no idea he's filling the role of a guide.
(think about Noelle's line in chapter 4; “we’ll know it's there if it makes noise.” she didn't know the soul was in the closet, she didn't know she was giving the player a hint! She was just telling Susie that if they heard a mouse squeak or something then they’ll know it entered Dess’s room.)
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And yet Ramb wasn't even that! We didn't learn anything about Eram from him, even after reading all his lines of dialogue about the game!!!
Ramb is not the battleable secret boss obviously, but he’s not even the shopkeeper to one!
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What he is in this story, and will he be more? (Conclusion)
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So… what is he supposed to be? Is he just a red herring? Is his only purpose in this story to throw us off and be a part of this chapter’s expectation subversion?
So why the loose ends? Why the information?
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Like I said before, deltarune is not meant to be predicted. It can't be! Whatever all of this was for, if it was for anything, what it will be, when it will be and how, it's all up to toby.
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Originally, I wanted to bring up a theory I really believe in about the future of deltarune. If you're familiar with mollystars’ “the device theory”, you'll know all about it. New-game-plus.
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(In short, it's about how currently we're playing by the prophecy, (think of it as a flawed undertale neutral run), and once we reach the end of deltarune, we could break the prophecy, and have an extra epilogue chapter, or play the whole game again, and have a timeline where the prophecy is broken. (like resetting a neutral undertale ending and playing pacifist))
(watch the device theory trilogy on yt if you're interested, it's awesome and like 10 and a half hours long.)
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At first, this theory had a whole segment here, explaining it at length, and why ramb seems to fit it perfectly-
But… I decided not to do that. Sure, Ramb’s weird existence kinda does make me think about the new game plus theory, but… no. I'm not gonna assume anything more about him.
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We were given the character, then the questions. We can rack our brains trying to find the answers and feel as confident about them as we can be, but we were so off about Tenna before the chapters came out you guys.
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A lot of people tend to dismiss Ramb as just another character in this chapter that happened with nothing much more to him.
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The purpose of this essay, alongside compiling the information about Ramb and analyzing it and his character, was to point out and bring attention to the questions that his odd existence in this chapter raises, not try to answer them.
just show how strange it is that this character, that's supposed to be a red herring and nothing more, has this many questions regarding him, his existence in this story, and his unclear end.
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Something is being planned here, and we have no way of knowing what.
All we can do is sit with this character, the questions, the loose ends, the clues … and wonder.
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Posts i used as a reference, or influenced my view on things, or are just awesome to read if you want more Ramb:]
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What's the Deal with Ramb? - by koimethehorizon:
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Why it's important that ramb isn't an American plug - by Askerror87’s;
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We are Studying Ramb Again - by lost-seal:
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Thinking about ramb by meatcarnival3000:
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RAMB VS ERAM - by frankent1ts:
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Ok, we need to talk about Ramb - by todaslocas:
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(Short but really influenced how I think about Ramb and Tenna's relationship!) - by meatcarnival3000:
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Ramb tenna lore Supercut - by unikhroma:
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thank you for reading! <3
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#deltarune#deltarune chapter 3#ramb#deltarune ramb#ramb deltarune#deltarune theory#deltarune analysis#what more tags can i add lol.#if theres any segment you read from this please read “red flags 2 (the red stands for is he okay)” its my favorite one#this was a labor of love#i was worried that how much i worked on this would make me start disliking ramb#too much of a good thing y'know#but no. im just excited to share this with people. my best attempt at wording why he plagues my thoughts#im so happy i managed to post it this weekend. im gonna have no free time this entire month-#ive actually still got some drawings i wanna post but theyre not done yet. ill see how much i can get done today before i go radio silent#if there are any grammatical errors please ignore them <3 im just a little guy#if you take the time to read this entire behemoth i literally cannot thank you enough. ur aWESOME <3333333#please take breaks tho if youre planning on doing that#:'] <33#alright thats it no more stalling posting this by writing tags#i hope you enjoy! <3
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sorry to ask, but can you explain your last post to someone who knows nothing about the musician community youre talking about... it sounds like a really really good post if i just understood it better
this is another one of those posts where I'm transcribing a stream of consciousness, so I'll throw in a courtesy readmore
the musician community, as a whole, is much more segmented than the visual artist community
this leads to good and bad things, but generally it allows for more awareness of one's position and an acknowledgement that the needs of an underground folk artist are going to be different than the needs of a composer who receives a name credit. this means there is always going to be heavy pushback when someone tries to impose ethics downward
one element of this is the inward acknowledgement that the monolithic musician community isn't actually real in a way that isn't really mirrored in the visual artist community. besides making music and navigating the financial (and legal) landscape of that, there is very little that intrinsically unites musicians
this acknowledgement allows discussions about concerns among poorer musicians to exist without being completely shut down by someone who has different concerns, because they're not seen as the subject of the discussion unless they are respectfully contributing to it
one big reason for this being possible is that musicians are less respected than visual artists in the professional world
that might sound absurd if you only know of one landscape, but think of how many game (and movie, and tv, and etc. etc. etc.) franchises with identity-defining composers go on to swap out the composer at the first sign of a labour dispute, to very little protest as long as the quality of music isn't seen as dropping
hell, if someone else can copy your style satisfactorily, there's often no fuss at all! this leads to a pretty violent disillusionment with your place in the creative world
even beyond that, there exists an entire industry based around creating a parasitic body of IP landlordism for anyone whose music isn't attached to another product. the musician is, in a way that is deeply and thoroughly beaten into them, a labourer
the visual artist community (until recently) didn't tend to have this disillusionment, so it often follows the sway of its most popular and established members
in fact, the modern visual artist community as a broad cultural body is carved almost entirely from social media discussions that treat the community as one entity. accordingly, becoming established basically requires participation in this online entity
to further poison the well, the position of a visual artist is regularly talked about in spiritual terms rather than labour terms. there is something special that makes you a visual artist. it's the exact mentality that people rightfully made fun of in those ordinary people vs creative people comics. it's the unspoken cultural assumption that natural talent exists, even if most people would deny believing in it if put into explicit terms
while this does feel very good, it means that acknowledging labour-originated conflicts of interest is a bit rude
when a community unites itself around a spiritual core, it can't properly assert "your experiences are not applicable to what is being discussed and you should not be imposing yourself" because, by all metrics, an artist is a fundamentally unique demographic that can speak in all conversations about art
it's a warped form of anti-gatekeeping, a one-way gate through which you can strike down at other poor artists, but not up, enforced from below and framed as a desire for openness
the visual artist community's relative homogenisation of popular consensus is, on the whole, very very very bad for what it does to its norms. it hashes out and legislates within itself with an unspoken assumption that its most prolific members are simply further along the artist lifecycle, and therefore the most trustworthy
discussions with direct parallels ("is it okay to be obviously influenced by someone else's style?") come to much hazier conclusions which lean towards the opinions held by people with the most followers
most egregiously, this manifested in how visual artists react to piracy
the past ten years (in large part because of patreon making viable the paywalling of material behind a regular subscription) have been consumed by arguments about piracy that all seem to terminate in the assumption that piracy is theft, with little stratification of opinion between the hobbyist and professional scenes on this matter
this assumed spiritual core of the community is felt strongly in every conversation. look at the difference in attitudes around the distribution of cracked VSTs and the distribution of brush packs. hell, even on the corporate level, look at the difference in attitudes around pirating DAWs vs visual art programs
even when people are implying an approval of piracy, they find ways to frame it from a position of revenge on a company for something wrong it did, because they still need to conform to the community understanding of piracy as theft
individual visual artists can be (and often are!) more conscious of this stuff, but even then, people react with shock when these visual artists aren't horribly concerned about the possibility of their paywalled work existing on a torrent site
in a word, if you can see the ways these conversation spaces are different and similar, it's all so exhausting
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ᨳ♡₊➳ jujutsu kaisen x reader
ᨳ♡₊➳ crack with plot
"You hate your job. The pay is bad, your manager is worse, and customers are somehow both entitled and clueless. Just as you finish contemplating whether unpaid breaks are a human rights violation, weird new people keep showing up to the café. They all seem to know each other. Sometimes they talk in cryptic phrases. What the hell is this domain and why do they want to expand it? One time, a man with stitches on his forehead walked in, made prolonged eye contact with you, and then left without ordering anything. You’re pretty sure he was a serial killer. Another time, the one with white hair and sunglasses indoors mentioned a "higher mission", and you’re 90% sure this is how cult documentaries start. One of your regulars only speaks in weird food-related phrases. You assume he has some kind of medical condition, but no one explains anything to you. But you are not about to ask questions, because ignorance is bliss and also job security. And unfortunately, they are all weird and they seem very interested in coming back."
꒰ masterlist ꒱ ₊⊹. ꒰ chapter 8 ꒱ ₊⊹. ꒰ chapter 10 ꒱
ᨳ♡₊➳ or read on archive of our own!
ᨳ♡₊➳ a/n: hi besties… yes. it's been months. i am so sorry this chapter took so long. i've been dealing with a lot of personal stuff behind the scenes and on top of that, i kept spiraling over whether or not this chapter would be good enough. i didn't want to disappoint anyone, which of course led to the classic perfectionism paralysis loop™. but we're here now. mwms lives. and i missed this chaos so much! thank you so much for your patience, love, and support. i say that every time but i really mean it – you guys make writing so worth it! 🖤
It's been a few weeks since the news segment aired, and the café has finally quieted down.
By "quieted," of course, you mean the line no longer wraps around the block like a demonic conga line of true crime podcast listeners eager to witness a live haunting. The daily mob of "I saw the scary coffee shop on TikTok and I want to see it in person!" has finally thinned. The influencer with the ring light surgically attached to her hand has moved on to reviewing haunted Airbnbs. The man who claimed he could "feel the ghosts in the foam" has vanished, possibly into another dimension.
The novelty has worn off. The chaos is subsiding. Customers now trickle in at a pace that almost feels normal – if you ignore the fact that someone recently asked if they could rent Muffin Guy for an art installation. The café's haunted buzz has faded to more of a dull, persistent hum, like tinnitus or Greg's attempts at leadership.
For one shining moment, you genuinely considered quitting. You'd updated your resume, spell checked it three times, and hovered your mouse over apply on a listing for an administrative assistant job that offered dental and said "strong Excel skills preferred," which you interpreted to mean "lie through your teeth and hope for the best," but something stopped you.
Not a sense of duty. Not loyalty.
No, it was Choso.
You were exactly two clicks away from salvation when you made the fatal mistake of mentioning it out loud. That was when Choso, who had been quietly sipping a latte and watching you with his usual intensity, like you were a wounded sparrow he had adopted emotionally if not legally, set his drink down with a startling determination.
"If you abandon this post," he said solemnly, eyes narrowed as if delivering the grim news of an impending apocalypse, "the chaos will consume them all."
You'd laughed. He had not. And for some reason, you believed him.
So here you are. Still underpaid. Still over-caffeinated. Still working in a café that feels more like a cosmic test of patience than a functioning business.
The espresso machine, perhaps sensing your wavering loyalty, was again emitting noises that straddled the line between dying whale and demonic summoning ritual. You, already dead inside, jabbed at the steam wand with a spoon. Predictably, this did nothing except make the machine groan louder, the kind of sound one makes when they realize their card declines at a packed grocery store.
Greg the Manager, appeared from the back, looked at the machine, and nodded sagely. "Just give it some time."
You turned slowly, narrowing your eyes.
"We've been giving it time for months," you pointed out flatly. "I think it's evolving."
Greg clapped you on the shoulder in what was probably meant to be reassuring but mostly just felt like being touched by failure. "No worries. I already fixed the real problem."
"... With the espresso machine?"
Greg waved a hand. "No, not that. I mean, the real problem. We're not getting enough customers anymore."
You stared at him, choosing your words carefully. "Greg. The reason people stopped coming is because they finally realized just how weird this place is. If anything, fewer customers might mean fewer problems."
Greg shook his head vehemently. "We don't want fewer customers. We need to go viral again. We need to be… immersive."
Oh god.
"I hired a mascot," he announced, grinning.
There was a long silence.
"What."
"Check it out," Greg gestured grandly toward the entrance, his smile smug with misplaced pride.
And that was when you saw it.
The first mistake was thinking Greg the Manager was incapable of taking initiative. The second mistake was assuming he would take the right kind of initiative.
Standing near the door was something that absolutely should not exist. A mascot costume, if you could even call it that, shaped like a massive coffee bean with two stubby little arms and two stumpy little legs. But its face… oh god, its face.
Its eyes were glossy, unblinking voids, deep and lifeless, as if it had seen things no coffee bean ever should. Its stitched on smile stretched far too wide, grinning perpetually as if it had just whispered your deepest, darkest fears into your ear and found them hilarious.
"Why," you said, voice hollow, "does it look like it knows my sins?"
The mascot did not respond. It did not move. It simply stood there, radiating an aura of unspeakable horror.
"Behold," Greg announced, sweeping his arms toward the thing like a magician revealing his final trick, "our new marketing strategy."
You stared.
The coffee bean stared back.
Greg patted its velvet head fondly, oblivious to the terror he had unleashed. "The kids love mascots. This is how we go viral once more, baby!"
You glanced at the customers. A child was actively sobbing into his mother's coat. An old man whispered something in Spanish and made the sign of the cross. Even Muffin Guy paused, as if sensing a greater evil had entered the café.
"This is a disaster," you whispered to yourself.
Greg ignored you. "C'mon, I know what you're thinking, but listen. After Nanami showed up and fixed things for, like, an hour, I had an epiphany."
"That you should finally quit and find a better job?"
Greg ignored that too. "That I should take this café seriously. I should be a leader." He adjusted his posture to exude confidence. It did not work. "Nanami's whole thing is about efficiency, right? So what's more efficient than hiring an employee who just stands there advertising for us? We're calling him Beanie. He's going to increase foot traffic, boost engagement, and create an immersive brand experience."
"You learned those words from a TikTok, didn't you?"
"... Perhaps."
The mascot – Beanie, apparently – remained motionless. The oppressive weight of its gaze settled onto you like a physical force.
"Does he ever… talk?" you asked, wary.
Greg hesitated. "Not really."
"Not really, or not at all?"
"Not at all."
"Great." You turned back to the looming nightmare in a coffee bean suit. "Welcome to hell."
Beanie said nothing.
Later that day, the bell above the café door chimed with its usual pathetic ding – a sound so lacking in energy it might as well have been a cry for help. You glanced up and braced yourself for the next wave of nonsense.
The man who had just walked in did not look like the kind of person who should be here.
Tall. Immaculate black suit. Sunflower lapel pin. Briefcase. Haunted eyes. His shoes alone probably cost more than your entire paycheck. Everything about him screamed "burned out public defender in the midst of a very existential crisis." The man looked like he had walked straight out of a legal drama.
He paused just inside the door, taking in the room with the clinical detachment of someone mentally cataloging every fire hazard, potential lawsuit, and ethical violation in a five meter radius.
His gaze landed on Greg the Manager.
Greg the Manager was attempting to refill the napkin dispenser by jamming loose tissues into it one by one. It wasn't working.
Then his eyes slid to Muffin Guy, who was, as always, staring at a single muffin like it held the answer to mortality.
And then… they landed on Beanie.
The mascot stood motionless in the corner like a nightmarish, foam suited guardian of unspoken horrors. Its glossy eyes were fixed forward. Its stitched on smile stretched too wide, as if it knew secrets about the universe. Terrible, coffee stained secrets.
"...Welcome in," you said, voice flat. "Don't mind the mascot. It's mostly harmless. I think."
The man's eyes did not leave Beanie.
"That," he said slowly, "looks like it's committed several felonies."
You leaned your elbow on the counter, deadpan. "It probably has."
Beanie tilted its head slightly. No sound. No movement. Just quiet judgment, like it was deciding whether or not your soul was worth harvesting.
Depressed Phoenix Wright finally moved forward, slow and measured, as though worried sudden motion would trigger the thing into lunging. He approached the counter. Looked at the menu with the bored detachment of a man who had once cross-examined someone for three hours straight without blinking. His expression – stoic, bordering on existentially done with everything – didn't change.
You, internally, were already assessing risk.
Still, you kept your face neutral. "Can I help you?"
"Espresso. Medium." he said, tone calm but clipped.
You punched in the order. "That'll be–"
He'd already slid exact change across the counter.
You blinked.
Then looked up again.
Depressed Phoenix Wright was staring directly at you. Not in a weird way. Not like Choso's unblinking hyperfixation or Gojo's unsettling game show host smirk. No, this was different. Calculated. Measured. It felt like being appraised as a witness on the stand.
“Name for the cup?” you asked, already grabbing the marker.
The man blinked, just once. As if the question had caught him genuinely off guard, like you’d asked him for a blood type instead of the bare minimum for drink identification.
Then he answered, voice even, “Higuruma.”
You wrote it down carefully, trying not to butcher it. He definitely looked like the kind of guy who had been correcting teachers since age six. Neat cursive, perfect spacing.
As you moved to prepare the drink, Higuruma stood perfectly still, arms folded behind his back like he was listening for a trapdoor to open. His eyes drifted back to Beanie.
"Has that... always been there?" he asked, voice low, like the mascot might be listening.
"Nope," you said. "The manager hired it two days ago. Called it a 'marketing pivot.'"
"I see."
Greg chose that exact moment to pop up from behind the pastry case with an empty croissant box on his head and announce, "I'm doing inventory!"
Neither you nor Higuruma responded.
Beanie, however, tilted its head again. Just slightly.
You handed over the coffee.
Higuruma accepted the cup with the solemnity of a man receiving final evidence in a trial that would determine the fate of humanity. He took a slow sip, then blinked.
"This isn't bad," he admitted.
"Thanks," you replied. "It tastes better when the machine's not actively trying to kill me."
"I understand," he said, dead serious. "The judicial system does the same."
You blinked. "... You okay?"
"No," he replied, taking another sip. "But I'm trying new things. Like walking into cafés that seem statistically likely to be portals to hell."
Then, just as you thought the moment couldn't get any weirder, Beanie turned its entire body to face Higuruma. It didn't move its legs. It just… swiveled.
Higuruma stared. Slowly, carefully, he took one step back.
"I see," he said, completely composed. "It's trying to establish dominance."
"It does that sometimes," you muttered.
"I will now leave before it attempts to communicate."
And with that, Higuruma turned and walked out of the café with the air of a man who had just solved a murder and also maybe committed one. Beanie watched him go. Silently. Eternally.
Greg popped up behind you again.
"That guy seemed fun," he said.
You didn't respond. You were too busy wondering if you had just served coffee to someone who had definitely prosecuted, defended, and executed a war crime all before lunch.
From that day, things with Beanie only escalated.
At one point, Beanie was standing at the counter, watching you make a drink.
Nothing unusual.
Except when you looked back up, its head had turned 180 degrees.
You dropped the milk steamer.
"Greg," you hissed desperately, pulling him aside, fingers digging into his shoulder. "Fire. It."
"No."
"You've summoned a demon," you informed him flatly. "This is an eldritch horror in a coffee bean costume."
Greg scoffed. "Nah. It's just a guy in a suit."
"Is it?" you asked, because now that you thought about it – you had never actually seen them outside of the costume.
Every morning, the mascot was already there before you. Every night, it was the last to leave. It never took breaks. It never removed the costume.
And, worst of all, it never said a single word.
"Wait," you said suddenly. "Do we even know who's in there?"
Greg hesitated. "... Well, we already paid for the costume."
"This isn't a costume, Greg, this is an omen."
Greg waved a dismissive hand. "You're overreacting."
The espresso machine made a garbled, death-rattle noise. The mascot's head snapped toward it, and the machine immediately shut up.
You pointed. "Did you see that?"
Greg was already scrolling on his phone. "See what?"
This was your life now.
One night, after finally mentally compartmentalizing the eldritch horror situation as "Not My Problem," you returned to the counter and noticed something out of place.
A letter.
A single, folded letter sat neatly by the register. No envelope, no name. Just paper.
Suspicious.
You reached for the letter cautiously, like it might explode. You hesitated. Then, against every survival instinct screaming at you to leave it alone, you unfolded it.
The handwriting, if it could even be called that, was… something. Jagged, sharp, slightly slanted, the ink looked like it had been scrawled by a creature unfamiliar with the concept of pens. Or perhaps by something ancient. Forbidden. Possibly demonic. The kind of handwriting that looked like it belonged in an exorcism manual.
You squinted and began reading it, already filled with regret.
'You are the moonlight that guides my path. I long for your warmth, yet I am unworthy. You consume my thoughts like an unrelenting curse.'
You blinked.
Looked around.
Beanie was still in the corner. Watching. Smiling that same too wide stitched on smile.
You turned back to the letter, read it again, and felt your soul leave your body. It was terrifying. Obsessive. Deeply, deeply ominous.
You turned to Gojo, who was leaning against the bar, sipping his sugar loaded nightmare drink. "Hey."
He looked up brightly. "Sup?"
You held up the letter, face expressionless. "I think I just got a message from a stalker. Possibly the creepy mascot."
Gojo did not react with the concern you had hoped for.
Instead, he inhaled his drink wrong and choked violently, then bent over laughing so hard it was unclear whether he was okay or just emotionally unhinged. Still coughing, he fished out his phone.
"What are you doing?" you asked, a dull ache forming behind your eyes.
"Submitting this to my favorite true crime podcast," Gojo answered cheerfully.
"Why?"
He was already snapping a photo. "They have a 'Creepy Corner' segment."
Meanwhile, across the café, Choso sat at a corner table. His hands were folded, posture painfully straight. He had been watching you with silent, monk-like devotion.
His chest was tight. His throat dry. His latte sat untouched.
He had spent hours crafting that letter. Choosing the right words. Conveying his feelings. He'd even rewritten it three times after Yuji said his original draft sounded like a death threat. He'd slipped it onto the counter when you weren't looking, then retreated to the shadows to wait.
Would you say something?
Would you acknowledge the words he had so carefully written?
Would you understand?
Surely, you would read his letter and understand his feelings. Surely, you would see the depth of his words, the weight of his affections.
He had imagined you reading it with curiosity. Perhaps confusion. Maybe even a rare smile. He had not accounted for Gojo. He had not anticipated Gojo photographing it. Or Gojo loudly announcing, "Damn, this is definitely serial killer behavior."
Choso's soul left his body.
He stared at his hands. He had no idea why his anonymous love letter was now being used as potential evidence for a future Dateline special.
He had failed.
ᨳ♡₊➳ a/n: also! if you've been craving more choso content from me during the wait, i actually started a new fic starring him and a very socially anxious reader who's fresh off a breakup. it's more serious than mwms (still has my usual crack moments tho), and it's all about hurt/comfort, healing, and two awkward people slowly figuring each other out. if you like my take on choso, you might really enjoy it 🥹
₊⊹. tag list: @luluminati @inthedarkshadows000 @isomehowexist @not-aya @emochosoluvr @lov3vivian @literallyushiwaka @kodditty @arrozyfrijoles23 @queenmimis @elizarikaallen @iloveyoucaesar @roseberry-jam @matcha-kitty13 @arrozyfrijoles23
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#higuruma x reader#choso x reader#toji x reader#geto x reader#nanami x reader#shiu x reader#mahito x reader#sukuna x reader#kenjaku x reader#jjk crack#jjk fluff#jjk imagines
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Any Solo Leveling character is writeable for you? Is it possible to ask for a gn entomologist reader (who may or may not be autistic) who is really interested in Beru in a platonic and scientific kind of way? Like they're Jinwoo's friend, but they can't help, but be curious about Beru whenever he summons him.
I hope writing this won't be hard for you...
Afraid? No.
[Platonic] Beru x Reader.
I'm sorry that you have to wait for so long 😭😭 Hope you don't get upset.
I love you all 💗
______________________
The first time you saw Beru, you almost dropped the specimen box from your hands. The glass jars, filled with butterflies and rare beetles, rattled as you were stunned.
You had known Sung Jinwoo for almost a year now. The two of you had met by chance at a university lecture on rare insects - you had come as part of the entomology research group, and he... well, he had never really explained why he was there. He would just smile lightly whenever you asked, that faint smile like a mirror reflecting the bottom of still water, making others unconsciously want to trust him.
Without knowing when, a strange friendship had blossomed between the two of you: one was a curious entomology student, the other was law student, a man with a lonely aura like a long night.
Somehow, you soon realized that Sung Jinwoo was no ordinary person. Bits and pieces of truth are revealed through broken conversations, sudden disappearances, moments when he looks into the distance as if hearing something you can't quite place. Until the day he hesitantly reveals - he is the Shadow Monarch, the one who stands in the shadows, commanding armies that are neither living nor dead.
You've seen the silhouettes of his soldiers from afar: their towering figures, their roars that fill the air. You think you’re prepared, that nothing can scare you anymore.
Until today.
Beru.
A giant creature with silvery wings, a body that is part human, part insect, exuding an aura that freezes the air. His eyes glow coldly, his claws glint with metallic light, and a strange, respectful bow that makes the whole image both terrifying and strange.
"My King," Beru said in a shrill voice, bowing to Jinwoo like a loyal knight.
And you? You seized the specimen box and your heart raced like it would escape your body.
Sung Jinwoo shifted his gaze toward you while expressing regret through his eyes and hiding a hint of amusement. The man spoke gently to you like he would comfort a tiny bird. "He will not cause you any injury."
You opened your mouth to reply, but only a weak gasp escaped. For the first time in your life, you felt small in front of a creature that did not belong to this world - and for the first time, you understood that your friendship with Jinwoo had drawn you into a world much, much larger and stranger than the butterflies in the glass cage.
"Jinwoo, that… that's no ordinary ant," you whispered, your eyes widening so much they almost popped out of your head as a giant black insectoid glided out from Jinwoo's shadow.
Jinwoo only gave his signature small, mysterious smile. "This is Beru," he introduced in a light voice, as if he were talking about a house cat. "My strongest shadow."
Beru's jaw clicked slightly as it bowed respectfully before Jinwoo, then slowly turned its ember-red eyes to you. The moment those eyes locked onto you, the air around you felt thick.
But you didn't back down.
Years of studying insects had forged a heart of steel against anything with antennae, segmented legs, or pincers. Instead of fear, you felt a surge of excitement in your chest, blood pumping in your veins.
"Is he… is he a derivative of Camponotus?" you blurted, approaching Beru with the glint of a kid in a candy store. "Or more Atta-like in physiology? The exoskeleton is fascinating... a perfect blend of insect and human anatomy!"
You almost started muttering technical terms as you circled Beru, taking in every little detail: the texture of the chitinous surface, the proportions of the forelimbs and hindlimbs, even wanting to bend down to examine the movable joints.
Jinwoo stared at you with uncertainty and mild confusion.
"Most people run away screaming." The experience made him uncertain about whether it was something to boast about or something he should worry about because most people flee in terror according to his account.
You just waved your hand, eyes still fixed on Beru as if the world around them had vanished. "Most people aren't entomologists," you replied, dead serious. "Do you think I could study him sometimes? Just observation, I promise! No invasive intervention! The scientific community would never believe this if I didn't have the documentation."
Beru tilted his head slightly to look at you, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. Perhaps because of the special attention he was getting, the giant creature even leaned towards you as if to make it easier for you to observe. Jinwoo rubbed his forehead, obviously trying to figure out who he had just brought to his side.
"Arise," Jinwoo muttered with a resigned sigh.
Immediately, from the shadows stretching out beneath him, a series of smaller creatures emerged - medium-sized shadow ants, all lined up in neat formation before you. They clicked, their armor glistening like ink in the light.
Your eyes widened even more.
"A fully hierarchical colony structure?" you whispered excitedly, your hand clutching the notebook in your pocket as if you were afraid you would forget every detail. "Jinwoo, this is unbelievable!"
Jinwoo, who looked at you as if he were witnessing a creature even stranger than any monster he had ever encountered, sighed, nodding in surrender. "Just think of it as a personal field trip."
You were practically jumping for joy, and Beru, with a look of utter pride on his face, puffed out his chest and stood straight like a first-class specimen, ready for you to analyze every millimeter.
__________
Over the next few months, Jinwoo allows you to observe Beru and several of his other insect shadows in your spare time. You keep a professional distance - these are sentient beings, after all, not just specimens - but your notebooks quickly fill with observations.
'Subject Beru exhibits incredible intelligence and communication abilities. Unlike conventional ants that rely on pheromone signals, it appears to be capable of complex vocalizations and understanding human speech. The jaw structure suggests evolution for both combat and complex communication.
Behavioral Notes: Despite its fearsome appearance, the subject displays absolute loyalty to SJ. The hierarchy within the shadow army mimics that of natural ant colonies but with greater individual autonomy.'
One evening, as you sat cross-legged on the ground of the Shadow Realm (you don't know how you could come here), sketching Beru's jawbone structure, Jinwoo approached with two cups of coffee.
"You know," he said, handing you a cup, "Beru asked about you."
You almost spilled your coffee. "He what???"
"He was curious why you were always following him. I explained what an entomologist was, but..." Jinwoo shrugged. "He wanted to know more."
You glanced at the giant ant, who was currently engaging in a sparring match with big knight shadow. "Is he curious about me too?"
Jinwoo nodded. "He's smart. Smarter than most people think."
That night, for the first time, you spoke directly to Beru instead of just observing or taking notes.
"Your social structure - before you became shadows, I mean - must be fascinating," you say, trying not to sound too eager. "Is it similar to terrestrial ants, with a queen and specialized workers?"
Beru's head tilts, his mandibles clicking softly. Then, to your surprise, he begins to describe the queen ant society of Jeju Island. His voice is deep, resonant, with a strange clicking tone, but completely understandable.
You rush to your notebook, frantically taking notes as Beru explains concepts that will completely change the understanding of entomology - if you can publish it, which you know you can't.
_________
"You're not afraid of him at all, are you?" Jinwoo asked a few months later, watching her carefully measure the distance between Beru's whiskers with a special caliper.
"Should I be afraid?" you asked, taking down the measurement. "Beru has never shown any behavior that would make me feel scared."
"People usually view my shadows as monsters."
You looked up at Beru, who patiently allowed you to examine him. "I see a remarkable evolutionary adaptation. A sentient being with a complex social structure and intelligence. Why would I be afraid of something so fascinating?"
Then, as Jinwoo stepped outside to take a phone call, Beru's lower jaw clicked slightly.
"You are different," he said, his eyes fixed on you.
"Why?" you asked, closing your notebook.
"Not afraid. See me. Not just a shadow. Not just a monster."
You smile. "Oh, a career interest. I have devoted my entire life to studying insects. You stand as the most amazing individual I have encountered thus far."
Beru's lower jaw clicks in a way you recognize as his laugh. "Human study me. I study human."
"You studied me?" you ask, surprised.
"Different colonies. Different ways. Interesting to me."
You smile. "I suppose we're both researchers in our own ways."
#solo leveling x reader#beru x reader#platonic#solo leveling#reader insert#gender neutral reader#i have received all your requests#please wait for me 🙏🙏#just slam into my message box if you have waited for so long and there's no sign of your request
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ghost story work 158 spoilers sorry all i fucking do is talk about shit you wont read for another month or two. Whatever. Fuck with me
the necronomicon propositioning that outer gods are metatextual ghost stories makes brasol fucking pop off because it completely reorients the power dynamic between Braun as a character in the story and Kim Soleum as a reader/writer of a storytelling wiki
and im not talking orv yoohankim this is some REAL cracked author v. subject v. reader shit because again, kim soleum is a contributor to a collaborative wiki, and as a part of an eldritch story, braun is aware of this from the start, and views himself as existing solely for his audience.
braun doesn't really perceive his shit as boring. if the material isn't gelling hes just like well. you are wrong. corruption beam 👉 When the quiz show was changed, it was against his will, it annoyed him. When he tells Kim Soleum the show is getting stale, he is lying because he is pressuring Kim Soleum to start the friend segment. He loves his new show concept, he just wants Kim Soleum to be on stage with him.
One has to wonder how Braun interprets their dynamic. As a ghost story, he exists for his purpose, but as a resident of an elder god's story (presumable Nyarlathotep), he would be wise to the fact he is a story in a wiki. He gets angry when meddling higher-ups fuck with his monotonous quiz show.
And we know from Kim Soleum and how SCP and backrooms wikis work that what happened was a bland uninteresting Darkness page was 'spiced up' with a scary killsyoubad monster. The higher-ups were reacting to wiki contributions, if they weren't the Wiki itself.
It is extremely interesting Kim Soleum and Braun's relationship begins with Kim Soleum essentially telling him "hey. get mad" at the concept of wiki editorializing.
And. This is so important. Kim Soleum is a wiki contributor. The only entry that he wrote himself that he's bumped into so far is one Braun was blocked from.
His contribution wasn't making it scary and more violent, though; he added empathy and advanced understanding to the premise. It's not just scary, it's tragedy, the anxiety of a miscommunication conflict. Because Kim Soleum gets ghost stories.
Which is his entire deal, that he explores the frightening and tries to comprehend it. He became a fan of the Darkness wiki from the Bureau entries, and didn't have much interest in the cult entries. All of his conflict resolution is communication, comprehension, and a sympathetic approach.
And you got this beautiful tyson hesse ass "yes and" Story Understander who thinks of ghost stories the way no one else does, that does not let his ego and his own vision intrude in the story he's sketching out, and he's in this dimension. He is like if god suddenly installed a comment section and the comment was going "oh I get it! yeah this is good". A person who writes the laws of your world based on how entertained they are by you is in your fucking house.
And then Braun spends most of this time...being Kim Soleum's audience member.
And now Braun the reader wants to contribute to the story. He's writing Kim Soleum carefully in-character based on his perfect understanding of him and everything. He's taking a position of power in his own narrative by rewriting his own audience (which we see him do to his literal audience!)
Kim Soleum's reflection on being immersed in their friendship isn't just about acting roles; this is also how he himself feels about horror stories. Even if he's frightened, even if he's stressed and unsatisfied and frustrated in the direction it is going in, he's still attached. Kim Soleum still loves ghost stories even though he's been repeatedly traumatized by living through them. He still cares about Braun and understands what he represents even though he doesn't want to be part of it. They really did come to a mutual understanding.
It just adds so much more significance to their agreement to be equals because... Kim Soleum holds so much existential power over Braun and Braun holds so much literal power over Kim Soleum. This does not make them equals - Kim Soleum does not have the power of a writer in this world, all of his 'writing' is physical action - but it does make their dynamic bonkers
Sorry I don't have a clear through-line or impactful conclusion I'm kind of just crashing out because I don't know if Braun will be in tomorrows chapter I just needed an excuse to think about him. If he doesn't show up I'll probably just keep going with "what if Braun did not know at any point Kim Soleum was God" because looooool
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I have a terrible idea.
So we know how Dottore is kinda forgetful right? Like this man straight up forgot that he killed Krupp not even an hour later.
What if... 👉👈 his lover died and he sometimes forgot that happened?
So Dottore is just chilling, and remembers that he should be making his dear's next round of medications.
He goes through the motions, only to pause midway. Right... his lover is dead.
He throws out the half finished medications.
IF THIS IS TOO EVIL IM SORRY 😭 I JUST THOUGHT OF IT AND IVE BEEN DYING SINCE
It's not a secret that Dottore tends to throw himself into his work, especially when he's particularly excited about getting results. Now, it's still not unusual for the Harbinger to busy himself in his lab... only this time, it's to distract himself from his reality outside of work. He barely even talks to his segments anymore, leaving them to fulfill their respective duties, so he works from project to project. Working, working... although there are occasions when he pauses to wonder what he's doing.
How long has he been working? Ages by now probably, it seems like he lost track of time, as he always did. So much work... no breaks... speaking of breaks, he'd have thought you'd come to pester him to take one by now. That was odd. Quite peculiar, to be honest. Maybe you were caught up in your own interests? He'd have to indulge you in them soon. Speaking of strangeness, his foggy, sleep and food deprived mind realizes he's neglected to start concocting your new medicine! He clicks his tongue at his carelessness, this was of utmost importance! He despised seeing any day when your health was worse off - it was his duty to keep you stable.
Dottore gets to work gathering the necessary items for your meds, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he will see you soon. But then his face turns to a scowl as he realizes important ingredients hadn't been gathered. Why didn't he send an order out for them? That was wholly idiotic - he'd never forget something as important as that... there must have been a good reason... and so he rattles his overfilled brain to remember and then-
It's times like this when Dottore remembers it was his duty to you as Zandik to keep you happy and healthy, and he failed.
The segments ignore the crash from his quarters once again.
#smooches talks#dottore love notes <3#fragile reader <3#anon what if i told u ive actually have a similar idea as the outline for one of the parts in my dottore series.......#“Sometimes he forgets that he doesn't need to justify his unhealthy habits anymore.”#RUNNING AWAY!!!
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Wait, do you think Tom Riddle made himself ugly on purpose so he didn't look like his dad? That never occurred to me. I always just assumed it was a side effect of all the weird shit he was doing and he didn't care much as long as he became more powerful. So many time travel fix-it fics I've read have him horrified in particular that he is hideous in the future.
I think Tom Riddle has a deeply ambivalent relationship with his own extraordinary beauty.
Like, okay. He has the same name as his (muggle) father, and looks exactly like his (muggle) father. Apart from being a muggle, the most important thing about Tom Riddle Sr. is that he's very, very pretty. It's why Merope targets him. So right away, the books make Tom Riddle's looks... kind of a negative.
We also know that Tom sheds his "filthy muggle father's name" at the first possible opportunity. But those looks... he needs those looks, at least for now.
I think that Orphanage!Tom is a good snapshot of what he looks like in his natural, comfortable resting state:
"He scares the other children.” “You mean he is a bully?” asked Dumbledore. (...) “There have been incidents. . . . Nasty things . . . Billy Stubbs’s rabbit . . . well, Tom said he didn’t do it and I don’t see how he could have done, but even so, it didn’t hang itself from the rafters, did it?”
Tom enjoys feeling powerful. He's going to take what he wants (ie young Tom's trinket collection) and everyone around him is just going to let him... because they're scared of him. Also he's kind of a sadist.
The problem is, Tom's NOT powerful at Hogwarts, at least not at first. He can't scare people into doing things for him anymore, and so he needs another strategy.
So, Hogwarts!Tom becomes a CHARMER. He charms Ginny and his school mates. He hits the "sir" incredibly hard when talking to his professors. We're told that "Dippet was very fond of Voldemort and convinced of his honesty." He plays Slughorn like a violin:
“But you obviously know all about [horcruxes], sir? I mean, a wizard like you — sorry, I mean, if you can’t tell me, obviously — I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could — so I just thought I’d ask —” It was very well done, thought Harry, the hesitancy, the casual tone, the careful flattery, none of it overdone.
Tom also does things like - pay attention to Slughorn's food preferences, so he can get him the perfect gift (candied pineapple.)
And well. That ability to charm people is related to his looks. They're brought up almost every time he is: Tom is the "clever, handsome boy," an "unusually talented and good-looking orphan, he naturally drew attention and sympathy from the staff." The link between his beauty and his power becomes text (rather than subtext) during the Hepzibah Smith segment:
Harry thought he saw a red gleam in [Tom's] dark eyes. His greedy expression was curiously mirrored on Hepzibah’s face, except that her tiny eyes were fixed upon Voldemort’s handsome features.
It's pretty clear what's going on. Tom wants Hepzibah's magical trinkets, and Hepzibah... wants Tom. (and she wants him because he's beautiful.) We get an unusually detailed description of him here:
He was plainly dressed in a black suit; his hair was a little longer than it had been at school and his cheeks were hollowed, but all of this suited him; he looked more handsome than ever.
Hepzibah's attraction is framed as "greed." It's negative, almost threatening, she's looking at Tom like she wants to eat him. The section goes out of it's way to frame Hepzibah as unappealing and unattractive... but her "naughty boy" Tom is still kissing "Miss Hepzibah's" hand, and bringing her flowers. Then she casually pinches his cheek.
Tom is getting nothing out of this soft-seduction. He actually seems to be working very hard not to take up space. He "murmurs," or else speaks "quietly." (He's described as speaking "quietly" four times, and it's not a long scene.) He "picks" his way through the room, "smiled mechanically," and the narrative voice makes a point to say that when he reaches for the locket after his eyes flash red, he did it "without invitation this time," - implying that he is accustomed to asking for permission, positioning himself as less powerful than the person he's talking to.
He honestly seems very happy to just drop the pretense... and publicly be the scary bastard he always was underneath. Tom walks into Dumbledore's office to ask for a job, and is incredibly direct. At this point, he's halfway to full snakiness, and not as pretty as he once was:
"His features were not (...) as snakelike, the eyes were not yet scarlet, the face not yet masklike, and yet he was no longer handsome Tom Riddle. It was as though his features had been burned and blurred; they were waxy and oddly distorted, and the whites of the eyes now had a permanently bloody look, though the pupils were not yet the slits that Harry knew they would become."
But he also seems much more powerful, much more confident, much more comfortable in his skin. Now when he smiles it's a "taut leer, an evil thing, more threatening than a look of rage." He "sneers," he stands above Dumbledore and gives him a hard time, and in general seems very proud of himself.
“You call it ‘greatness,’ what you have been doing, do you?” asked Dumbledore delicately. “Certainly,” said Voldemort, and his eyes seemed to burn red. “I have experimented; I have pushed the boundaries of magic further, perhaps, than they have ever been pushed —”
We also have a moment with full-snake Risen Voldemort, and his response to his own new body is completely positive:
He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant.
Tom then goes on to have a WONDERFUL time until things go south - monologuing, torturing Peter, casting spells on Harry to force him to bow...
So my take on this is that Tom likes and even prefers his Snakey body. It means he no longer has to play the subservient charmer (he CAN'T.) It is physical proof of his own brilliance, his own power, his own experimentation. He no longer looks like his muggle father, he has shed the muggle (unexceptional) side of himself completely. It's probably also a body that needs less food, less sleep, feels less pain etc. I'm basing this off Ralph Fiennes' decision not to wear shoes as Voldemort, but it fits with his MO: he wants to be MORE than human, he wants to shed his weaknesses and achieve some kind of immortality and transhumanism.
Now the question is - was his Snakey appearance an accidental/unavoidable side effect of the "dangerous magical transformations" that left him "barely recognizable" - or was Voldemort actively seeking out something that would change how he looked? Honestly, I could see that going either way. But I'm inclined to think that he *did* at least sign off on this appearance... just because all those Snakey!Tom transformation beats are about being in control. That is what he's doing here, showing off just how much control he has over his body, and his world.
#hp#voldemort#tom riddle jr#voldemort meta#watsonian analysis#tom riddle sr#horace slughorn#hepzibah Smith
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Strauss asking reader into her office to talk about the tiktoks reader made about Hotch? 🤭
You haven't even greeted the team before Strauss sends you an email, asking you to meet her in her office as soon as you get in. You can't help but feel annoyed at the message, dropping your stuff off in a huff on your desk.
When you knock on her opened door, you see Aaron sitting in one of the chairs across from her, eyebrows raised when he sees you enter. "You wanted to see me?"
Strauss nodded, gesturing to you to come inside. As you shut the door behind you, she continued. "I wanted to talk to you and Agent Hotchner about a few videos you posted that are questionable."
Immediately you know what she's talking about. Glancing at Aaron with fear in your eyes, you saw his lips twitching, fighting back a smile. You don't know whether to be embarrassed and mortified or annoyed he isn't as worried as you.
Clearing your throat, you turned back to your boss's boss, slowly sitting down in the chair next to Aaron. "What videos?"
You see Aaron cover his lips with his hand when Strauss pulls out her laptop, a video you made from your TikTok account on the screen. Without a single word, she hits play and Umbrella fills the office as you lip sync to it with Aaron in the background looking up after a second and a smile forming on his face.
In the caption you've written, "When he's a 6'2", 45-year-old criminal profiler in a suit and tie." while lip-syncing the "Come into me" part of Rihanna's song. When the video ends, you look over at Aaron and see he's expressionless. You start to panic.
"Oh ... That one. I see." you said, inwardly slapping yourself for the answer. Strauss
raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"
"There's more," Strauss replied, ignoring your question as she clicks on another video.
You can't help but cringe as the sound plays very loudly. When the video finishes, she raises an eyebrow. "Now what did you mean when you said 'catch me on that dick tryna ride like a rodeo' with a picture of Agent Hotchner?”
You can't help the awkward laugh that escapes you because despite not knowing if you're in trouble or not, Strauss saying dick made you giggle. "Technically, I didn't say it. It was the song."
"You wrote it in the caption, didn't you?"
“. .. Yeah."
Silence fills the room and before you can ask, she pulls up a video of you filming
Aaron-who was well aware of the video, by the way, with the caption "Him in a beard >>" and the sound of dogs barking as the audio. You hear a nearly inaudible laugh from the man sitting next to you but you don't dare look.
Strauss clicks on another TikTok, but instead of a video, it was photos in a slideshow. You had to bite your tongue when the "Get destroyed or get destroyed" caption showed up along with a picture of Aaron with his tie undone. This was truly the weirdest, most embarrassing, and funniest shit you've gotten in trouble for.
When Strauss doesn't continue showing you videos you made about how hot your boss is—there's so much more, so much that someone might think you're dating—you meet her eyes and give her an apologizing look. "I'm sorry, I didn't know this was against policy."
"It's not," Aaron answers, speaking for the first time since you entered the room. "What did you want to talk to us about, Erin?"
She sighed, closing her laptop. "Aaron, I've told you before, there's no reason to hide this relationship. It's better to tell me what's going on other than have someone else find out and have another sexual harassment meeting again."
"Oh, he and I aren't—" you start to say, gesturing between you and Aaron.
"No, but you'd like to be." Strauss cuts you off, eyes narrowing at Aaron. “There's no policy against coworkers dating but there are rules if you start dating your subordinate."
Aaron nods, glancing briefly at you before speaking. "And what are those rules?"
"You must BCC your emails to each other to someone in HR, and complete the sexual harassment training segment again," she responded.
"Alright," Aaron replies, nodding once again.
You're dumbfounded when she dismisses the both of you, eyes flickering back to Aaron as you walk out of her office. Once you're back at your desk, you turned to him. "Well that was embarrassing.
He snorted. "Not as embarrassing as Bob from HR will be when he reads our emails."
You blinked. "What?"
Aaron smiled, slowly backing up from your desk as he made his way to his office. "We'll have to BCC him in our chats, honey."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#criminal minds#reader making tiktoks abt her boss#reader being thirsty af for aaron hotchner
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was too enthralled on my first viewing of the new digital circus ep, so i took notes the second time around!!
-candy hearts and paper flowers!!! :333
-caine snapping at zooble, and also seems to be very focused on violence? implying that it needs to happen?
-jax is very much under the impression that caine is incapable of physically/mentally changing them, and is proven wrong here to his shock. it keeps bothering him in the bar scene too.
-pomnis favorite color is red. kinger's favorite color is black, like darkness!
-when ragatha says "not anymore", jax has such a unique expression and the music slows to a harsh stop. really cool way to make the scene screech to a halt!!
-pomni laughing at jax's jokes and trying to lose the bias a bit..... wwaaa <3 because jax keeps reaching out. and he moves and talks so slowly and calmly in the stargazing segment
-the abstraction hallway with the FROG on the door. jax's dead friend????? CAN WE TALKKKKKK
-pomni is 25!!!
-jax genuinely asking about pomni's life! i think he wants to bond with someone who didn't know him before whatever happened with the frog friend. a fresh start
-pomni used to explore abandoned buildings and post them on youtube!
-zooble knows what breaking bad is! ragatha does not.
-ragatha used to be rich, and the way she spoke her mind too quickly to jax at the picnic reminded me strongly of emma woodhouse (at her own picnic!) might be some interesting parallels there once we learn more about ragatha. not including the abuse from her mother, which we don't know too much about...
-zooble used to work in a bar, and as a tattoo artist. jax makes a joke about this that may ? be about hitting on them? or calling them gay?? lol?? unclear honestly, but he gives them a cute expression ^_^
-nobody else replied about knowing kinger's wife, which seems weird since she was in the circus, right? unless it happened way before any of them, and he's been there a super long time?
-why is jax scared of corn on the cob. i have no clue what this means. he reacts like a cat with a cucumber
-i need to kill evil jax so bad. when he arrived onscreen i said "i need to kill him" and then jax immediately said "i wanna kill that guy" YEAH. MY MANNNNN 💕💘💖💞💗
-jax says evil pomni is so cool. love <3
-pomni's the only one who said no to the maid dress!! win for bodily autonomy!!
-zooble said "i figured you'd be into [the maid dress]" what does THAT mean. calling him gay back???
-jax's eyeliner looks CRAZY good. sorry that it was forced on you babygirl
-pomni is actually really emotionally intelligent. she always seems to know how to say just enough to help people, but never steamrolls over them or forces them to talk. i've been really appreciating that more and more, with how she listened to kinger in ep3, honored that gangle didn't want to talk and did a kind act instead in ep4, and now asking if jax is okay and not voting on the maid dress in ep5.
-jax's "see ya later" to evil pomni sounds just like when he said that to pomni at the counter in ep4
-ragatha looked so freaked out when pomni came up to talk to her after she yelled earlier. she's so scared of what will happen if she shows emotions and always feels like jax is the only appropriate target since he's mean already
-jax is gonna show pomni his friend's door????????????
anyway. HUGE wins for me, THEEEEE jax and pomni fan ever. i am EATING today. AUAGAHHH SO GOOD. YAYAYAYAYAYAYYY
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Hey, Penacony spoilers ahead for up to the end of 2.3. THEORY AHEAD. (kinda crack, kinda not, I'm talking about Gallagher)
Y'know, it's funny how Gallagher, a History Fictionologist, told like 1 lie.

And then, Mr. Reca, a Memokeeper, told some guy "Love the unknown" once.

Like, guys, switch places, please. That would make more sense.
I remember when I found inconsistencies with how people treated Gallagher; one of two Bloodhounds "recognising" him, another Bloodhound going "Who?" and then the receptionist at the Family's mansion acting as if he's some important person who's rarely sought out by people?
I swear, this still makes no sense... unless......
And Reca is sometimes a well-known director. Sometimes a self-proclaimed one.
Chabro and Aideen? Love the guy. Nobodies? Who does this dude think he is.
But hey. You know what makes me go "What the HELL is going on here"?
I have two questions.
Why "Mr. Reca"? And not Mr. Reca?
How the hell does this guy know about Gallagher AND HIS DEATH.
Okay, so I guess this Reca is indeed a Memokeeper who uses camera and film to record (rec - Reca) stuff and retell stories. He should be the same Memokeeper Black Swan mentions at the Studios.
And I suspect this censored movie to be his work.
Hey, remember who did so much to make sure that some people's names and true stories would be restored?
Yeah, funny coincidences.
And then, nobody remembers Gallagher, ironically. Except us, Nameless.
And except Reca, SOMEHOW. (Aideen. Gallagher is the guy thanked BEFORE YOUR OWN BRAND, DID YOU EVEN WATCH THE MOVIE.)
But ultimately, Aideen is right. Gallagher wasn't made to be remembered.
Sorry, I mean, "Gallagher the History Fictionologist" isn't meant to be remembered.

We know "Gallagher" is fake. And I'm not just talking about his appearance; ALL OF HIM is fictional. He is a character, a role. And like any role... there has to be an actor playing the part. The person who came up with "Gallagher". The person who is still there once the character isn't needed anymore.
The person we didn't see when "Gallagher" disappeared off-screen.
And I guess that person would also be the real Gallagher... The one who was so loyal to Mikhail.
Or... was he all that loyal to Mikhail?
There's something so fickle about calling an unshakable loyalty "imaginary". I know it's meant positively here, but it's so easy to turn this upside-down...
I mean, the purpose of "Gallagher" was to fulfill one promise to Mikhail. And once that has been done... the real Gallagher could do whatever, afterwards. He's free of his role as "Gallagher" the History Fictionologist... who did the exact opposite of what a Fictionologist would do...... by restoring the truth of the past.........
Gallagher is the worst at his job, isn't he. Almost like he should be a Memokeeper, instead.
Anyway. I have a technical question.
Where did Reca get the memory segments to recreate Firefly for the Scorchsand Venue movie?
I see two possibilities:
Got them from someone else (Aideen, other witnesses, maybe from the surroundings themselves?)
Himself
In the first case, it makes sense, I have no further question.
In the second case, though... When did Reca meet Firefly? Did he need to actually meet her or would just seeing her from afar suffice? Depending on the answers to those questions, things might get complicated.
Okay, it's time I stopped beating around the bush. I've been drawing mirrored parallels between "Gallagher" and "Mr. Reca" from the very start of this post. You're probably guessing what my point is by now.
But first... Remember Sleepie? a.k.a. Dormancy?
Poor thing came to Scorchsand searching for Gallagher...
But there was no trace of him there anymore since... before Sleepie arrived... Right?
And there's no way Gallagher would still be around... Right?
... why would you say that if you know your whole being will disappear once you're done with your final task...
i mean, it's not like there was yet another Hound statue in Dreamflux Reef, next to the three epitaphs of the Nameless, right?! Grmbl...
Remember when Himeko said "In the end, we still failed to figure out his true identity, or if he was even a "living person"? Because I SURE REMEMBER.
Anyway, we don't know where Reca was when Sleepie arrived at Scorchsand, but-
I think it's safe to say that they interracted to some extent.
BUT that's in fact still not what made me go "WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL IS GOING ON HERE???!!"
Remember how the movie started?
With the phrase: "Even now, the world is still filled with characters that we've played."
The hell do you mean by that, Reca.
And it ended with the phrase: "We will keep playing our roles, drunken and foolish in the moment, playing at life but never thinking to celebrate it." Then the credits roll.
Heyyyy, I know someone else who talks about celebrating life. And used bits of other people's lives to create a whole new "character". Kinda like how you can pick pieces of different stories to make a whole new story. Or movie, for that matter.
And hey... Reca told us "My lens is upon you… Don't let me down. And more importantly, don't let the audience down."
You know who told us we had interesting life stories? YEAH.
Hey. Let's go back to Brina. The receptionist.
You know how we could easily explain this?
If the real Gallagher's full name was Gallagher Reca.
Or maybe "Mr. Reca" is just yet another pseudonym. I mean, why would he credit himself as "Mr. Reca" and not Reca. That's fishy.
ANYWAY, this theory has been on my mind for maybe 4 months now, so I'm glad I've finally manage to write all of my thoughts down.
#honkai star rail#hsr theory#hsr gallagher#hsr reca#gallagher#mr reca#2.3 spoilers#finished somewhat on time >:'D
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Every time YouTube nonsense happens I'm always like "I can't wait to see what Sergle says about this" because you're the only person I follow that talks about YouTube nonsense.
Please take this is an invitation for you to talk about the Watcher's apology video lol
I am a filthy youtube enjoyer so you can absolutely count on me and GODDDDDDDDDDD... I mean the apology is not NEARLY as funny as the blunder, so it hasn't kept my attention as much but like the obligatory upfront thing is that, like, it is good that they posted it, they apologized for being insensitive and whatever, they're not scraping their channel clean or going forward with their old plan to only post their shows on their own platform, and these are technically good and correct things, because they could have pretended not to notice all the negative feedback. So like, responding is good. BUT LIKE I HAVE QUESTIONS NOW... Because they took SO LONG to film and upload a video that basically is just "we fucked up, we're sorry, we're not gonna do that anymore", which doesn't exactly take a writer's room several days to cook, but I DIGRESS... They were quiet for long enough for everyone to LOOK REALLY CLOSE. After the initial reaction, people had time to do some pretty comprehensive cost breakdowns for their stuff, and for what they have to be pulling in from adsense, sponsored segments, patreon, merch, and touring Like, they'd need to be really mismanaging their finances, because they're doing very well for themselves, making good, stable money, and the vids they make are super duper advertiser friendly. SO... you take long enough without putting out a holder statement or a quick heel-turn apology or anything, it gives people more time to get comfortable with not liking you, and also to dig around and google things about you, or scrape up info/trivia about you to corroborate their new opinion of you. It gets personal, is what I mean. So pulling this move has still, at BEST, caused some permanent damage to their relationships with fans, in both directions. They all got a huge flood of negative feedback, and even a perfect, emotionally mature, non-entitled person would have a negative reaction to people being upset with them at such a high volume. But now they're gonna remember the things that people have said about them, and there's no way that at the very least, Steven isn't gonna feel spiteful about this. People TOTALLY unloaded on him (funny) (valid) about his evangelical christian conservative leaning tesla privileged out of touch boy gold flaked ice cream eating ways. He definitely is going to remember that ppl said they never liked him in the first place. As for Ryan and Shane, people didn't have any dirt on them, but they definitely still received a lot of angry messages from people, most of which will have been reasonable, but they're gonna remember the really really mean and intense ones. Anyway, they made a booboo dumb enough for jack to want to make a skit about it, so for that I'm very grateful, because I thought it was really really fucking funny
youtube
#it's no big deal and it's whatevs because it's Low Risk youtube scandal which is why I like it so much#but it still never fails to amaze me how much this didn't need to happen#like this would have been a totally preventable blunder. I can think of a million different ways to increase profit before trying this move#personally I think it's funny to mess up this badly because the Second Messup would be to respond REALLY quickly#You see it trending and you immediately need to act bc it will only get worse the longer you stay quiet#sergle answers#long post
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Will you be my Valentine?
General Masterlist | AEW Masterlist | Jay White Masterlist
Characters: Jay White, Reader, reader's daughter
Plot: Valentine is around the corner and Jay asks reader to be his Valentine, after a little talk with her daughter.
AN: @madhatterbri @5secondsofmoxley little Valentine gift for both of you! Hope you'll like it!
"You and mama, Valentine?" Leonie asks Jay, while he is helping her draw a heart for Your/N.
Jay puts down the marker they are using, looking confused at the little girl. How does she even know what Valentine is? "Do you know what kind of day it is, Leonie?" He asks gently, with a smile.
"For people in love!" She explains chirping, clapping her hands.
"Yes, that's right little bean." He can't help, but keep smiling.
"You not love my mama?" She asks in an innocent tone, smiling brightly.
"I..." Jay blushed at that question: he has never asked her out, but knows he likes her. "Maybe."
They go back to drawing, Leonie already forgetting about all of that, while Jay keeps thinking about that. He bites his lower lip as they finish to color the heart, huffing when the little girl jumps at him, happy.
"Perfect! Thanks Daddy!" She kisses him sloppily on the cheek.
"You're welcome, little bean." Being called Daddy surely sounds strange to him, but he digs it. "What does mommy like?" He asks suddenly, while they put her things in her little backpack.
"ocoate! Roses!" She claps her hands, running to the door when it gets opened and Y/N is standing there waiting for her. "Hi mommy!"
"Hi little one." Y/N smiles lovingly, kissing her forehead. "Have you been a good girl?"
"She is always an angel, Y/N. There is a little gift for you in the backpack. We had so much fun today." Jay answers for the little girl, crossing his hands to his chest.
"Yes! Fun!" Leonie chuckled.
"Good, I am glad. Now we better get back to the hotel. You need to sleep, little miss. I am done for the evening." Y/N looks at Jay and smiles. "Thank you for taking care of her."
"You know I do it gladly. Have a good sleep, little bean. Same to you, Y/N."
Leonie's words are still in his mind, he can't forget about them. Maybe he should try to ask her out for Valentine. He is worried about a possible no though. What if she isn't interested in him? What if she didn't want a relationship after what happened with her dead husband?
"Uh, sorry Y/N." Cope's voice resonates in the room, as he almost bumped in her and her daughter.
"Everything is fine, Cope. Have a good rest of the show." Y/N is done for the evening, while they still have a segment to do.
"Yeah, Jay it's almost time for us to get out there."
Jay can't help but look at Y/N disappearing in the hallway, nodding at Cope, before following him. His mind still wanders to her while they wait to go out to the ring, but when Cope's music hits his focus is back on the work they have to do.
When they are finally done with the segment, he is the first to go backstage, taking his things and getting then into the rental car, driving to the hotel.
Trying to ask her out is his idea, in hope that she'll agree to it. He parks and enters the hotel taking the stairs until he is at the second floor.
"220... 222... 224!" He stops in front of the right room and takes a deep breath: his heart threatens to jump out of his chest and he has to calm down.
- 31 years old and you act like this is your crush, Switchblade... Pathetic. -
He knocks lightly on the door, to avoid waking the little girl up, in case she is already asleep.
Y/N is laying down next to her sleepy girl, television on at minimum volume, watching a movie she has seen over and over. She startles when she hears the faint knocking on the door, not expecting anyone. It takes her a moment to sit and then stand up, to go get the door.
"Jay?" She asks, confused, once she notices him. "Is everything okay?" She questions in a low voice, looking at him from head to toe.
"I wanted... I wanted to ask you something, Y/N. I'm doing fine. The segment was perfect." He doesn't know why he is talking about that, he is confused.
"I would invite you inside, but Leonie is sleeping... Sure, tell me." Y/N smiles brightly and Jay is left without a word for a moment.
"Ehm..." He coughs slightly to clear his throat. "I want to ask you out on Valentine's day? I know it's normally for couples, but I would love to grab something to eat with you." The blush which formed on Y/N's cheeks makes her look so cute to his eyes.
"M-me?" She is the only one there, so it's a dumb question, but she can't believe it. "If... If Leonie told you something, know that you don't need to do that. I am glad you have such a bond with her, but don't feel forced to have something particular with me." She has already lost her husband, she doesn't want to suffer anymore.
"Hey, look at me, Y/N." He gently raises her chin with a finger, forcing her to look into his beautiful eyes. She can swear her heartbeat stopped for a moment. "If I am here, asking you this, it's because I want to. I would love for you to say yes, but you can think about it."
Y/N turns slightly around, looking at her sleeping daughter: she is aware of having a crush on that man and maybe that is the best for their life? "Okay..." She murmurs, before turning fully towards him. "I'll be your Valentine. I'll find someone to take care of Leonie and we can then go a date together."
"What would you like to eat?" He asks, so that he can find a place.
"We'll be in Australia and I've never been there, so somewhere with typical food."
***************
"Mommy, you look so beautiful!" Leonie kicks her feet happy and ready to go spend some time with Renee.
"Thank you little one. I'll come get you in Renee's room. You should sleep when she tells her to." She tells her very gently, getting a nod from her daughter.
"Mommy...?" Leonie starts to ask, looking up at her with puppy eyes. "Can Jay be Daddy?"
"Leonie..." Y/N walks up to her, hugging her. "We'll see. It's not so easy, Jay should love me and be ready to get in a relationship with me." Y/N stands back up and gets the door, smiling at Renee. "Thank you for taking care of her."
"Don't worry! Me and Jon will celebrate when we are back in the States, so it's a pleasure to spend the evening with her." Renee smiles at the little girl. "Who is ready for auntie time?"
"Meeee!" Leonie screeches and runs to her after getting off the bed.
"Take your time at the date. We got her. You look perfect, you'll kill him. Bye."
Renee goes away hand in hand with Leonie, chuckling to herself. Y/N goes back inside to apply some make-up, humming happily at the result. It's not long after that she hears another knock at the door and when she opens it she can only see a bouquet of roses in front of her.
"Jay?" She asks confused, smelling her favorite flowers.
"Happy Valentine, Y/N!" He finally lowers the flowers, smiling at her, while holding a huge heart-shaped box of chocolate. "These are both for you. You look stunning." He grins, noticing the blush on her cheeks.
"T-thanks." She takes the flowers and box gently, putting them on the desk. "You look stunning as well, Jay."
They go to his car and he opens the door for her kindly, driving them for about 20 minutes before they reach a sea side restaurant, with some tables directly on the sand.
Dinner goes insanely well, they talk the whole time, have fun, laugh together. Food is very delicious and the sunset makes everything even more romantic.
Jay pays for both, not wanting to let her do it, thus being a gentleman and, after dinner, they walk on the seashore, the water wetting their bare feet.
"I feel like I don't want this moment to end." Jay admits suddenly, his hand searching for hers.
"Me too. I am having so much fun. It's been awhile since I was so carefree." Y/N turns to look at him, smiling brightly.
"I think I might have fallen in love with you, Y/N." Jay finds the guts to tell her, in her beautiful eyes. "Do you want to be my girlfriend?" He is bold, but hopes she says yes.
"Are you sure, Jay?" She asks, giving him a chance to think it back. When he nods, her heart threatens to jump out of her chest.
"This date made me realise how I feel around you, what I want to do in the future. I love you, Y/N." He kisses her gently on the lips, on instinct.
"I love you too, Jay. Thanks for this date, you are so sweet." She finally kisses him as well, putting her arms around his neck..
#all elite wrestling#aew fanfiction#aew imagine#aew fic#jay white#jay white x reader#jay white imagine
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Crocodile Tears: Intro

Crocodile Tears: Index Ship: Stoner!Reader | Stoner!BTS Description: You accidentally eat brownies with aphrodisiacs in them. Even worse one of your asshole friends catch you reading smut to cope, and decides to airdrop your collection of your dirtiest fantasies to the rest of the house. Just your luck. Warnings: Dub-Con, Degradation, Humiliation, Dom!BTS, Sub!Reader, Weed (sorry it’s what helps get me in the mood to write these), Dirty Talk, Kink Shaming?, mentions of the reader being into kind of dark/taboo kinks, Jimin is incredibly mean for no reason, Reader is ridiculously horny and is good at weed Word Count: 2,397 A/N: This has now been edited and finalized which means I can get started on the first segment!
You coughed, smoke erupting from between your lips. You feel Jungkook's large hand offering a comforting (arousing) pat on your back, rubbing gently to comfort you out of your coughing fit. Damn, why'd you have to get horny when you were smoking weed? It didn't help that you were surrounded by perhaps the hottest guys on campus. Who would've thought that befriending fellow stoner, Hoseok, over a blunt in a party would lead to introducing you to his other stoner friends? Before you knew it, you guys would hang out regularly, bonding over a bong.
Today wasn't supposed to be any different from those days. You had smoked with these seven plenty of times before. Most of the time it was in Yoongi's studio apartment, practically hot boxing the small space.
Today though you guys were lucky. Namjoon's rich parents were going to be gone on a cruise for two weeks. You guys could smoke carefree in a nice ass mansion and not have to worry about the smell, as Namjoon assured you the maids would take care of it. (They much preferred Namjoon to his parents despite the weed smell assistances, probably because he's so charming. You didn't blame them. Namjoon had that old money charm, the type that would make you not hesitate to do whatever he asked.)
You guys brought bongs, edible gummies, baked goods, weed, pipes, snacks, water bottles, pens and carts- anything a proper stoner hangout would need.
Part of the reason the guys adored you so much was because you had the highest tolerance of any girl they ever met, which was very contradictory to first glance. You could outsmoke any man you met, and could brag you had never greened out despite the amount of weed you'd smoke once challenged. You could simply keep going, you were a beast, this was your talent. You were proud to say you had outsmoked each and every man in this room, earning their respect and the privilege of joining their smoking group. You weren't going to argue. You've never gotten so much free weed and attention from hot guys in your life. You were used to the attention it would bring you now for the most part. Cute girl who smokes weed? It's stoner boy kryptonite, basically your super power.
Except against one. There was one guy that definitely wasn't the most respectful to you, treating you like he barely even liked you, but for some reason you didn't find yourself minding. You don't think you'd mind it from any of these guys, but as it was, your stoner powers gave you a leg up on these guys. Most of them wouldn't dare think about disrespecting a deity like you.
That didn't mean you didn't have your moments of coughing, though. Usually you were better and holding it down nowadays, but it was a bigger hit than you were anticipating.
Jungkook pulled the bong back, face in front of yours to examine your expression. "You ok?" he asked. You look up at him, eyes locking. He's got that hooded eyes, hazy look in the eye that looked so similar to "fuck me" eyes. You didn't want to assume, though. Too many times guys told you it looked like you were giving them fuck me eyes when in reality out were simply stoned.
"I'm good," you assured, trying not to think about how good his lip ring looked. Shit, you were probably staring at it right now. You quickly turn away, feeling flushed, reaching for the plate of brownies you had pulled from the kitchen. "God, I'm having insane cravings right now, though!"
"Wait, Y/N, where'd you get those brownies?" Jin inquired, squinting down at your plate.
"In the kitchen. Namjoon said I could help myself to whatever food's there." You paused after scarfing down another bite. "Oh no, do these have more weed in them? I mean I think I'll be fine, but shit."
Jin's mouth dropped open. "Uh, no... not weed."
Your brows furrowed as you stared back at him. "What is it, then? Did you put fentanyl in brownies, Jin?!"
"God, no! Not fentanyl... aphrodisiacs," Jin sheepishly admitted.
"What the fuck, man, why'd you bring sex brownies to the party?" Yoongi laughed. "Trying to start an orgy or something?"
"No! Me and Y/N were just joking about it last time we hung out and were talking about those chocolates on tik tok that make you horny. She was like what if we all took one and saw what happened? I decided to make some myself and brought them. I didn't know Y/N was going to end up eating half of them herself!" Jin explained hurriedly, eyes glancing to you quickly for help.
"So you were trying to start an orgy!" Yoongi accused.
You bursted out laughing. "Well, that explains a lot. At least I can't overdose on aphrodisiacs. Teaches me not to let my munchies get the best of me." You turn to Jungkook, biting your lip at the sight of him. These sex brownies were really doing something to you. You're all giggly, though, from the weed. "Munch. Munchies. Do you think munches get munchies?"
"Y/N definitely seems high enough," Namjoon laughs. "Sorry you're just going to be stuck with the brownies... effects. You sure you'll be ok?"
You wave your hand dismissively. "I'll be fineeee. I'm basically horny most of the time anyways, this will be no different."
"TMI," Hoseok jokes, rolling his eyes.
You were fine.
For all of, like, ten minutes.
Once an hour had passed, you were practically wanting to jump out of your skin. You found your mind wandering off, you were biting your lips far more often than usual, your eyes weren't just blazed stupor, but full on fuck me eyes. You found yourself staring intently at your guy friends. Jimin's thick lips wrapping around a blunt, letting smoke pour out. The way he was staring back at you, almost suspicious. God, he'd probably be disgusted if we knew what sort of thoughts you were having about him. He always acted a bit disgusted by you. You eyes flitted away to his best friend next to him. Taehyung's hands gripping around the bong, elegant fingers wrapping around it, veins tracing along the middle. You wondered if he'd choke you if you asked. Wait stop. You try to keep your high mind from wandering off to dirty places and focus on what's in front of you. Jungkook's tattooed fingers as he rolled up a joint for you, doing so with such delicacy and precision. He was so careful, and was definitely the best at rolling. You sucked at it, and were grateful that Jungkook's attentive personality made him volunteer to be your personal roller. Without thinking, you bring your fingers up to your mouth, chewing on your thumbnail as you stare at Jungkook with a certain intensity.
It was Taehyung who spoke to you first. "Y/N, you good? You looking kinda zoned out, there."
You snapped out of it, hand flying away from your mouth. "Huh? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking."
"Your joint's done," Jungkook said, tatted hand offering it up to you.
"Thank you, Kookie," you grin, tussling his hair in front of you. Fuck, you wanted to grip it while his head was between your legs. You reach back, clearing your throat. "It's kind of hot in here, actually. I think I'll go to the balcony."
You hope they don't read too much into your need of absence, but who were you kidding. You were obvious.
You leaned against the railing of the balcony, enjoying the fresh air. You lit up the joint and inhale the smoke, opening your phone to distract yourself. With smut. Hey, horny brain has a one track mind? You pull up your fanfiction recommendation blog, mainly used to store your favorites and save for later, for times like these. You scroll past the stories, each depraved tag and recollection of the smut's materials not seeming like enough.
You clicked on the third story, entrenched in the words as you try to imagine the scene before you. The weed made your mind hazy. You didn't know how much time you had spent out here reading porn. The joint was already halfway finished.
You didn’t even notice the balcony door being open and shut behind you, finding yourself too engrossed in the words on your screen. Perhaps if you were sober, you’d have felt his presence behind you, eyes peering over your shoulder.
"What's sex pollen?"
You practically jumped out of your skin, squealing at the feeling of hot air against your ear. You spun around, lower back soon pressed against the railing as your space was invaded, to see Jimin, his red tinged eyes meeting yours. The one man here not impressed with your surprisingly high tolerance. Maybe because he of all people knew about deceiving appearances. He leaned in closer, far closer to you than he had ever been in the time you’ve spent with him and his friends. His chest was a mere few inches in front of yours, hands clasped against the railing beside yours, trapping you. The aphrodisiacs weren’t helping you, and you were feeling a certain type of way about having a handsome man so close to you.
"Jimin! What're you doing here?" Your heart pounded erratically in your chest, the anxiety overwhelming you at being caught.
"You've been out here for a while, the guys were getting worried about you," Jimin explained. A devious smirk formed on his lips. "Guess I should explain to them you're fine, just out here basically reading porn."
"I-I'm not-"
"Oh? What's sex pollen, then?" Jimin grabbed your phone, your reflexes too slow to stop him. He wore a shit eating grin as he watched your eyes flit between your phone and his face, unable to even process the beginning of your defeat. You were completely defenseless and stunned, not sure how to understand how he had beaten you so swiftly, or why he was particularly smug about it. You don't think he's ever smiled at you before, whether out of kindness or humor. This smile lacked both. This was a grin of enjoyment at the sight of you fussing and at his mercy. "Explain, Y/N."
You gulped. "I-It's just this like… trope.”
“Trope?” His thumb slides up the screen, the sentences scrolling by. “Seems pretty scandalous compared to your typical romance tropes. I don’t think I’ve heard of this one, before.”
“It’s more of a fanfiction trope than an actual literature trope…”
“Oh? How’s it work, then? What’s so appealing about it?” Jimin’s amused expression was in stark juxtaposition to your flushed, embarrassed one.
“U-Um… it’s w-when the person gets affected by this pollen or something in general that makes them all... needy. And they need someone to take care of it for them."
“Take care of it how?”
You huffed, irritated with his teasing. “What do you think? You already know. It’s called sex pollen for a reason, quit teasing me.”
"Oh?" Jimin quirked up a brow, obviously pleased with your embarrassment and stammering. His hand came up to your throat, and there was a hitch in your breath. "But it’s so fun.”
“No it’s n-not-“ It was hard to keep your sentences structured well as Jimin tilted your head back, hand sliding further up to your jaw, making you lean back. Adrenaline pumped through you has your anxieties increased, all to aware of you dangling halfway off the railing at this height.
“This trope of yours sounds very familiar. Taking aphrodisiacs, familiar.” His chuckle was taunting in your ear, his soft breath noticeable in the night air. “Hoping for something to happen, Y/N?”
"No, I-"
"Did you do it on purpose, sweetheart? Wanted one of us to take care of you? Put you out of your mercy and fuck you cause you need it so badly?"
You gasped at his words, his hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him. Your back was still arched against the railing, and both of your hands clasped around Jimin's arm for support, afraid of both falling back and falling into him. His muscles felt so firm underneath your fingertips , and you tried not to think about how much you had missed the feeling of digits on your throat. Jimin's eyes flit over to your screen, going back to scroll through the stories you saved. He could probably feel your heartbeat against his fingerprints quicken as he delved deeper into your trove of dark and twisted fantasies. "Fuck, this is some really nasty shit, Y/N. You're into some depraved shit. Alpha/Omega? CNC? Step-siblings? Always knew you were a pervert. Bet you've thought about us gang banging you before, huh?"
His canines gleam in the dim light, taunting you. Your wide eyes met his with terror, and you whimpered in his hold.
"Fuck, Jimin, please please please don't tell them-" you pleaded.
"But how can I keep this to myself?" In horror, you watched his devious fingers tap against your phone screen, airdropping your blog of fanfiction collections to the rest of the house. He let you go, allowing you to catch your breath as he backed away from you. Fishing out his own phone, he accepted the request. He waved your own screen in front of your face, taunting you with your own powerlessness. You grab it from him, staring in horror as you see that three people accepted the airdrop. Fuck. It wasn't like you could even pretend it wasn't you, your name was attatched. The worst part is you didn't even know who accepted it, the names only being "iPhone".
You stared up at Jimin in horror, only to see his sadistic grin as he scrolls through your personal porn stash. "Don't worry, I'll make all your dirty fantasies come true," Jimin chuckled. "I’ll be a bit busy for now, though. Have to catch up on some light reading. Besides,” he turned towards the door, looking back to you with devious excitement. “You’re a big girl, I’ll let you take care of this by yourself.”
He left you alone on that balcony, gawking and trembling, wondering just what would happen if you were to step back in that house.
#bts smut#jungkook smut#Jimin smut#taehyung smut#v smut#bts fanfiction#bts#bang tan#jungkook fanfiction#Jimin fanfiction#taehyung fanfiction#Yoongi smut#Namjoon smut#suga smut#Agust d#rm smut#Jin smut#Seokjin smut
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TIT RECAP/THOUGHTS
SPOILERS OBV
Okay so firstly the open PSA that Dan wrote about "no photos or videos if you do, I will sue your ass to the ground" and "no flash photography do you want Phil to fall off the stage...again?!?!?" killed me. it was so cute
preshow playlist, stunning, beautiful all around bops.
the sudden cut off of the music and lights to signal the show started, genuinely shocked and I was SAT let me tell you.
THEY CAME OUT AND THEY WERE REAL?!? NOT A SIMULATION?? listen I still can't get over that, I can't believe they were real people who look and sound exactly like they do on my tv at home!! I was so focused on them and soaking every moment in, I couldn't handle it
have I mentioned how attractive they are?!?!?
okay also literally Phil straight up STOPPED THE SHOW BECAUSE HE HAD TO SNEEZE AND DAN JUST STARED AND WAS LIKE PHIL WTF and I loved every second I was like yes this is straight up what they do in videos, let's have our little squirrel moment babes.
plus it made it feel even more silly and improv, overall I know obv they scripted a lot but it was sooo interactive and they ad libbed so much and I adored it
the dollhouse recap i swear wtf. first off, it was such a creative and fun idea and the different sets, and dressed up dolls that the clothes matched!! also okay I'm so sorry I had no idea the random sex positions would be a theme of the show so I was gobsmacked, but the 69ing during pinof??? "so we did what 2 closeted twinks did upon meeting each other for the first time.... put sharpie's cat whiskers on!!!" shut up for the love.
I genuinely loved the role model or no-el model segment. my show was in NC so they first option for Dan as the Mr. Lawyer was he bans ___ and someone said south carolina and they both just were rendered speechless and were like damn oh dear but laughing too.
The boxing match was so hot dear heavens, Dan's expression when Phil came out in the fake- *cough* I mean very real abs. He was acting for his LIFE.
the confessions were so good, just wish it lasted a little longer. the yapping was good and also idk if this was standardized but the whole thing where Phil said "I have a cute but also sociopathic thing going on and I think it's working for me 😌" like shut up you're so adorable
omg the quick change where they kept their mics on and narrated so many innuendos I was dying omg so silly and so funny I loved it. I was really impressed with how fast they changed, but also talked the whole time.
I loved every single solitary part of this show and I loved how they joked about how they were sorry we all went to school with whiskers then got out in the trash (cause yeah basically) and how they literally did raise us and should be blamed for us being feral not our actual legal guardians.
okay so. this show 9/10. here's where the last 1 point went.
please don't kill me, but I wasn't a fan of the song. I'm not entirely sure what it was, but the whole show was so raw and perfect and then the song was just really synthetic and overly autotuned where I personally didn't even hear their voices. like I couldn't tell who was singing which part. the ukulele part was cute, and I really hoped that would've been all of it, I guess the internet is here and interactive introverts and everything's fine just was so good you couldn't raise the bar again, but that was just my personal opinion, I know a lot of people loved the song and it was catchy and cute, I'm just not personally a fan of kpop/synthesized music so I was a little disappointed in the song but the dancing slapped so hard.
Dan flawlessly executing every move and strut and making eye contact with us while Phil very intentionally was focused on not tripping or walking off the stage and looking at Dan a few times to check if he was doing it right MY HEART.
cuties, gay, both of them, love them
overall I spent last night frantically calculating if I could afford to spontaneously go see the Nashville show as well and spend another 10 hours in the car today but regretfully thought against it.
#pineapple chats#dan and phil#phan#dip and pip#dan and phil games#tit preshow#tit tour spoilers#tit spoilers#titspoilers#tit tour#terrible influenence tour spoilers#terrible influence spoilers#terrible influence dnp#dan and phil terrible influence#terrible influence tour
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Susceptible - Jack Delroy/Reader
Warnings: Fully clothed grinding, very slight dirty talk, very light exhibitionism in a sense, no use of Y/N, female-hinted reader because of skirt/makeup mentions but other than that there's no real gender mention.
Wordcount: 4950
Summary: You spent a small fortune getting a ticket to Carmichael Haig's show on the promise of his new act showing his audience something the world has never seen before, as well as the possible attendance of one Jack Delroy, but will two hours of bullshit be worth the risk?
Notes: There is SO MUCH BUILDUP I'm so sorry I'm so weak for worldbuilding and plot I swear the other one I have planned will be shorter OTL I have never written a reader before but I am a huge fan of them, especially the DDverse ones I've been binging oop, so I hope this is a good first attempt! It's been a few years since I've written anything like this and probably a good decade or so since I last posted anything, so here's hoping I post more in the upcoming future~ This is also completely unbetaed so if you see any mistakes please let me know <3 The Manhattan Center is also real but didn't fit my needs entirely so I mashed it together with the theatre I went to as a kid lol
~~~~~~~~~~
Carmichael Haig was back in town and you had no idea why you were here.
He had left for what felt like both forever and not nearly long enough for a few months to do his tour, seeing his smug face everywhere you looked between both digital and paper news and making your distaste grow a little more each time. You had been fond of his trickery for a time, but his move from magic man to skeptic had sucked all the fun out of the act, his determination to not only find the real but humiliate the fakes way past annoying to straight up sickening to you by this point. Tonight’s show proved to be another big presentation of the latter you’d decided when it’d been announced officially, promoted by your favourite talk show host - and current celebrity crush - Jack Delroy; his smile was wide for the cameras but it didn’t reach his eyes, you could always tell between them by now and he did not seem to be as pleased as the two talked about it that night.
‘I’m going to show the world something they’ve never seen before,’ Carmichael had said, his usual smug look in place as he hammed it up for the cameras like he could really pull that off, Jack running with it like the patron saint of patience he had to be.
‘Big talk, you sure I can’t convince you to give our wonderful audience a taste tonight?’ he asked, the crowd cheering at the mere thought of getting to experience his new act an entire month early, but if there was even an iota of temptation within him to share he hid it perfectly. He waved the offer away to everyone’s disappointment, Jack pouting on everyone’s behalf and putting those big eyes on display as his own plea; the ratings, you imagined, would be wonderful for a segment like this when his show was already starting to slip down the line, but even that was no use.
‘You’ll all get a chance to see it on the 13th,’ he promised them as he turned to face the audience, the place and date scrolling across the bottom of the screen yet again, they’d been flashing it every single time it was mentioned to the point where you were sure you’d see it in your sleep tonight, rolling across the bottom half of your dream. ‘Or, those of you who’ve been able to get your tickets will, we’re selling out fast,’ he smirked with a tip of his glass, yet another thing that’d been brought up and hammered home; you’d gone to the Manhattan Center to check a couple days ago, just out of curiosity, the ticket price absolutely ridiculous to the point that you were convinced they’d never sell out, but now you guessed your distaste of him wasn’t as widespread as you’d secretly hoped.
Jack slapped his leg in mock disappointment, Carmichael looking back to him at the sound. ‘Guess you’ll have to tell me all about it the next time you’re back in town, I had asked Gus to pick one up for me but it seems he missed that call,’ he joked, Gus’ surprise at the blame of his absence being placed on him getting a big laugh as his face fell and he tried to explain himself.
Carmichael placed an understanding hand on Jack’s shoulder and leaned in closer, the other man leaning in in return as if to receive some kind of secret. ‘Well then, it’s a good thing my date canceled on me,’ he retorted, and when he pulled his hand back he revealed a ticket, Jack’s eyes going wide as he accepted the gift with a big smile, pointing to it before shaking Carmichael’s hand with a thanks.
Ah, so that was why you were here again.
You knew you’d never be able to get a seat on Night Owls because the thought of Jack seeing you in the crowd made you blush all the way to your shoulders, even on your bravest of nights you hadn’t been able to even call and see if there were any tickets left, but to maybe share an audience with him? To sit in the same room as him where you could steal glances if you were able to find him, with no risk whatsoever of him catching the way your eyes lit up when you looked at that handsome face, that dangerously attractive body? That was doable.
It had cost an arm and a leg to convince that scalper to hand over one of the tickets he was parading around outside the Center, but it was worth it as you stepped inside, your heart racing because, unless he wanted to risk the aftermath of Carmichael calling him out for not going, he was here; somewhere in this building was the man you’d been dreaming about since his debut a few years ago, the one you watched nearly every night without fail just for that hour where he looked at you, talked to you, noticed you even if it was through a camera, and that was all you’d needed until tonight.
You’d gotten a pretty shitty seat despite the price but you didn’t mind, it actually worked out for you considering you weren’t actually there to see the show but to look for someone in the seats in front of you, and you hoped that you’d be able to spot him from where you were in the far back corner. As long as he wasn’t, say, the exact opposite of you then you probably stood a chance of at least a glance, since his ticket came from Carmichael himself you guessed that it was probably close to the front if not front row center just to mess with him and prove that he’d come, and you felt all the hair rise on your arms and neck when Carmichael walked on stage early to very loudly greet someone who’d just walked in.
There he was, leaving his seat to meet the other man in the middle, and he was so much further than you expected but it was still him, big smile in place, hair perfectly combed, his crisp suit being wrinkled by Carmichael’s hands as he gave him a showy hug, and he was beautiful. You froze in the middle of the row, unable to finish the walk as your eyes stayed on him, the people trying to get by you not as starstruck as they attempted to squeeze past when you ignored their presence.
‘Sorry,’ you murmured as you sat as fast as you could, eyes still trained on him as he waved to the crowd to prove that yes, he did honour the gift and was there to see this big new act he’d been promised. You let out an embarrassingly needy whine when he sat back down and you became unable to see him again, the mass of bodies behind him obscuring all but a sliver of the back of his head from this angle, and you’d be damned if you had to spend the next 2 hours stuck like this at a Carmichael Haig show of all things. The person at the end of the row finally arrived and you made your move, hurrying down and taking one last glance before getting ready to make this whole thing a little more bearable. ‘Excuse me,’ you nearly stuttered as the person, a man older than yourself who definitely gave off the air of being a Carmichael fan, looked up at you, ‘would you want to trade seats with me? I was really looking forward to the show but I was too late to grab an aisle seat.’
It’s a blatant lie but the quick glance from before proved that you could see him better from there, and the chance of getting to look at him for the next two hours was worth the look the man gave you at the request.
‘Which one are you?’ he asked, looking down to the few empty spaces still waiting for their owners, and you pulled out your ticket to double check, seeing that it was R51; wow, you didn’t realize how far away R was from A until you saw it firsthand. He looked back down to your seat and considered it, looking you over midthought when he thought you weren’t looking, and he almost got away with it if not for the fact that you felt his eyes on you. ‘$100,’ he decided, the offer knocking the wind right out of you.
‘What? The seat was already $350,’ you choke, giving away the fact that you were really, really late to the party.
‘Take it or leave it, I had the sense to order on time,’ is all he says to that, and you looked back at your possible view before sighing heavily and reaching for your wallet; goddamnit, Jack, if only he knew how worth it he was. You hand over the money and step aside, the man pocketing his fee and leaving the seat for you as promised, and the view is just barely better but there he is again, perfectly in view due to what can only be a miracle, the hole in your wallet feeling a little less big as you watched him turn his head to talk to someone, giving you a perfect side view.
He really was handsome, captivating even from this distance, and you swoon a little as the audience finished filling out, the lights dimming and obscuring your view a little more save the grace of the stage lights that illuminate him from the front as Carmichael walked back out on stage and started the show. You’d never been one for spacing out but you couldn’t take your eyes off him, the $450 price tag of this shitty aisle seat all for him and not feeling so bad even as Carmichael charms everyone around you. He didn’t look to the side that often, you guessed he didn’t actually know his neighbour since the seat was a gift, but the times that he did, where he laughed or sighed at the theatrics or even put his face in his hand because he wasn’t having too much fun, were all cataloged away in your head forever, the perfect souvenirs to last you a lifetime of home viewing after this.
At about an hour in according to your old watch, Jack looked about ready to get up and find any reason to leave, which you couldn’t blame him for, the acts themselves were pretty damn good you realized in the times you actually paid attention, but it was getting so tiring to see Carmichael explain away all of their tricks, to see the joy leave their faces at being called a fraud or having all their mysteries revealed, and it was clear Jack felt the same down in row A. After a particularly rough walk-off from a woman who was trying very desperately to convince Carmichael that she could really read his mind and ending up with the humiliating reality that everything he answered to was false to get her to out herself, you noticed that when you looked back to his seat that Jack isn’t there, and you were in the middle of wondering where he went when the person coming up the aisle came into view so suddenly that it took your breath away.
It was Jack, his brow twitching slightly to keep a neutral face, his footsteps heavy as he tried not to stomp and draw attention to the fact that that last one really pissed him off, his hands already reaching into his suit pocket for something. You tried not to stare the closer he got but it was hard, years of being able to look all you want training your brain to look look look as he approached, and you forced yourself to stare straight ahead at the stage as he reached you. Your hands were clenched tight in your lap as he went to pass row R, and you were in the middle of thinking you were going to make it when he fumbled the small box in his pocket and dropped it with a low curse, the cigarettes he apparently smoked bouncing to the side and coming to a stop between your recently shined shoes.
Your head snapped down so fast you felt it in your neck as he came to a stop beside you, the two of you locating the box at the same time, and you stiffened as he reached for it before realizing how rude that would be despite his own sour mood. ‘I’m sorry, could I bother you for a second,’ he asked, his smile back in place despite being a bit tense, and you stuttered out a confirmation as you leaned down to pick them up.
‘I didn’t know you smoked,’ you blurted out before you could stop yourself, Jack’s hand frozen in midair as he reached for the box, his smile relaxing a little as he looked from your hand to your face.
‘Did I find myself a Night Owl in this sea of skeptics?’ he wondered aloud, your cheeks brightening in a way that really made you pray it was dark enough not to notice.
‘I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,’ you lie, and he crouched down so he could hear your whispers as the crowd reacted to the next act.
‘I take it you’re also not very impressed,’ he figured, hitting the nail on the head based on your expression alone. He chuckled at your silent confirmation and looked back down to the cigarettes, his fingertips just barely touching yours as you both held it, you didn’t even know when he’d grabbed it and you let go before it got awkward, but he didn’t seem to notice. ‘Well, if you don’t tell my producer that I’m smoking again, then I won’t tell Haig that you didn’t like his show, deal?’
You sucked in a breath as he moved the box to his left hand, offering up his right for a handshake this time to seal the deal, your heart pounding as you shook on it, his smile more genuine than you’d seen all night, you could always tell. He stood back up as the act finished and Carmichael went back to his disproving, his mood dropping again as his need to escape rearose. You both offered a look of disdain at the stage before he stood back up to move again, something stopping him midstep before he turned on his heel and leaned back down to you, a shiver running down your spine at how close he was so he could be heard.
‘Have you ever been to one of my shows?’ he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice, his warm breath accidentally hitting your neck and rendering you unable to do anything but glance at him and shake your head no. ‘You’d have a much better time, I’ve got some great stuff coming up,’ he pitched, either completely unaware of your predicament or just used to people acting like this around him, either way he didn’t react when your eyes couldn’t help but flicker down to watch him lick his lips so fast you almost missed it. ‘The next one’s already booked up but if you go down to the studio and give them this card, you should be able to get a spot for a night you’re free, I'd like to see you there.’
He pulled out his wallet and grabbed a business card, flipping it around to the blank side on the back before resting it on the arm of the chair. A pen was found next, and he scribbled a quick note to the ticket seller on it on your behalf, signing it and handing it over with that big showman smile of his. You took it and placed it in your own wallet, the previous hole instantly filled with its presence, his mood clearly raised by the interaction as he wished you a quick goodbye and resumed his journey outside, oblivious to the fact that you were about to disrupt the entire theater if you didn’t find a place to scream and fast.
You gave him a few minutes to reach the doors before jumping to your feet and making for the bathroom, your heels clickclacking on the tile the entire way until you found the correct door. The place was empty, which was great because once you caught sight of yourself you knew that it was bad enough he saw you this way, no one else should get the pleasure; your face was redder than you’d ever seen it, your pupils blown from the exchange and you could’ve sworn you could actually see yourself shaking you were buzzing so hard, your grin so wide anyone else would’ve assumed that Santa had just given you the toy you’d always wanted for Christmas early.
You tried to calm yourself as you ripped off some paper towels and dampened them, patting them against your cheeks and neck to bring your body temperature back down to a normal person’s, carefully avoiding your makeup that you were thankful you spent the time putting on just on the ultra rare off chance you’d run into him. When you were ready to go back - and after a quick internal debate on whether you should try and meet him outside for another, less hushed conversation already - you made sure to calm your breathing before heading back out there, taking a quick moment to look for him before making the trek back to your seat.
When you got back you noticed that no new act was on, Carmichael already talking to the audience and projecting himself up on the screens for all to see, you rolling your eyes as you collapsed into the rich red velvet and preparing for more of his bullshit until Jack returned, if he felt like it that was. Everyone around you was concentrating on his words, staring right ahead as the theater fell silent save for his voice and the sound of a ticking clock; ah, he was trying to hypnotize everyone, that must’ve been his big final act that he’d promised his audience. You weren’t impressed, you’d tried to be hypnotized before at a party in your youth, it hadn’t worked then so it wasn’t going to work now you knew, so you sat back and prepared to at least enjoy whatever he was going to make the audience do.
Your thoughts went back to Jack as Carmichael’s voice slowly got drowned out, the ticking a bit louder in your ears despite the distance, but you didn’t mind because it was nonsense anyway, ‘Now who’s the skeptic,’ you think to yourself as you sink deeper into your chair. You vaguely heard the words, ‘Your greatest desire,’ in your ear before you felt a hand on your shoulder, your eyes leaving the stage to travel up until you saw Jack standing just behind you in the aisle, his smile from before now more like a smirk as he motioned towards the doors like he wanted you to follow him.
You looked back at the stage as Carmichael invited someone from the audience up to stand with him, some poor hypnotized fool who was bound to be humiliated along with everyone else who stood with him tonight, and you decided that you’d rather not see that again before standing and following Jack. There was a small hallway between the theater and the doors on that side of the back wall, the two of you out of view from everyone else but Carmichael’s voice still reaching, and you were about to wonder if he was leading you outside to just leave or talk when he turned and pushed you against the wall with a muffled thud. Your back met cold paint as your chest met with his, your eyes locking as he cornered you where no one could see, a confidence he saved for the cameras now focused solely on you as he looked you over the same way you’d done to him a thousand times over.
‘I couldn’t wait for you to come to my show,’ he whispered, his voice impossibly low as he held you in place, a knee parting yours and making you gasp, ‘you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’
‘You’re just telling me what I wanna hear,’ you managed to get out, his eyes closing as he leaned in to grin against your cheek.
‘Is it working?’
You didn’t dare answer but you might as well have because your silence was enough to spur him into action, your head falling back against the wall as he started to kiss your neck, your hands grasping at anything because this was crazy. The man you’d wanted for years was kissing you not even 30ft away from a room full of people, anyone could come around the corner at any second and catch you, and you bit your lip at the thrill of it all. You’d had dreams like this before, ones that left you panting into your pillow when you awoke, but the real thing was so much better as he sucked a mark into your soft skin, your hand leaving his arm to cover your mouth lest you alert anyone within hearing distance to your current predicament.
You let him do as he pleased, let him ran his hands over your sides and down to the edge of where your lifted skirt was resting against his thigh, your legs shaking as your body tried not to grind against him; it was only due to him holding you that kept you standing as a matter of fact and he seemed fully aware of it as his nails scratched softly against your bare leg. He seemed to love all your reactions to what he did, he was in the entertainment business after all, every noise of approval that slipped through your fingers must’ve been like music to his ears but you had to hold back no matter how much you wanted to indulge him. Being denied what he wanted only made him work harder for it, the assault on your neck moving to your shoulder and collarbone instead of your covered lips, your mouth watering for just a taste as he started to move against you, one hand pulling your waist away from the wall by your lower back as the other moved up and under your skirt.
The first grind of his body against yours was decadent, you swore you could feel it in your soul the way he wanted you just as much as you’d wanted him, like he’d been watching you back through the screen for years and also craved this very moment, and now that he was getting it he wasn’t going to stop, you didn’t want him to stop. You’d never seen him act anything like this before in all his years on TV, a greedy flash of excitement running through you at getting to see such a new side of him quickly overcome by pleasure as he cupped your ass and pulled you even closer. You knew you couldn’t get undressed here, if you’d made it to the bathroom then maybe he’d be doing more but he hadn’t lasted even that long, but even with that desire being restrained you still wanted him here and now. Never in your life had you been this desperate for release but he was bringing out a demon inside of you that desired and needed and wanted so much that you were willing to throw your modesty out the fucking window for just a second of his hot skin pressed against your own, but this would have to do while the show still went on.
‘Jack…’ you moaned as your hand, moist from your panting, gripped his arm once again, Carmichael’s voice getting louder in the distance as you grew closer to your release.
‘Come home with me,’ he begged into your ear, his movements getting rougher as he also grew close, you knew you’d both have to leave before everyone saw you but it was worth it, god it was so worth it. ‘I want to have you all to myself, I need to taste you-’
You bit your lip and led his face away from your neck so you could look into his eyes, his mouth parted as he tried to control his own panting, he was coming apart at the seams for you right here in the hallway, the ticking in your ears either your heartbeat or a clock far away. You moaned his name again as you felt the heat build in your stomach, your back arching and pushing your body into him even more as the door to your right opened.
‘Dreamer, here, awake!’
All at once your knees gave out and you collapsed to the floor before that final wave could push you over the edge, your head heavy and your vision swimming as the body against yours vanished into nothing. ‘Are you okay? What happened?’ Jack’s voice from above asked as his worried expression came into view, the smell of rain and cigarette smoke invading your senses; the sound of the audience in a similar state of confusion drifted around the corner as Jack crouched down next to you, just back inside from his break from the show, the realization that you weren’t as immune to hypnosis as you’d thought hitting you like a bucket of cold water. You just panted in shock, surprise, and waning lust as Jack looked you over in concern, your hands moving to pull the bottom of your skirt down to cover your exposed legs in embarrassment, the scratches you were so certain he’d left behind not there, because he hadn’t been there.
‘I’m fine,’ you force yourself to say after you’d caught your breath, Jack believing you but still helping you to your feet like a gentleman, of course he would never act that way, that was only how you’d wanted him to act, you’d had dreams like that for god’s sake, the real Jack would never-
‘Is the show over?’ he asked as the roar of people applauding overtook the chatter, Carmichael now silent, and you avoided his eye as you started to edge towards the way out.
‘I think so.’
‘What was the big mind-blowing act?’
You put a little distance between yourself and him but he didn’t notice, Jack heading for the corner so he could look at the stage as he waited for your reply. ‘He hypnotized everyone,’ you answered curtly, his reaction big and full of surprise as he looked over the size of the crowd in an awe that wasn’t present for the first hour and a half.
‘Everyone? You should’ve come found me, I would’ve loved to see that.’ He was still looking at the room beyond, your eyes on him as he watched everyone else.
‘I got a little overwhelmed,’ you mumble, and he finally looked at you with that same concerned expression again, and it’s too much after what you’d just thought you’d seen, your eyes finding the floor.
‘What did he make you see?’ he asked, his curiosity quiet but still there under the concern, but you couldn’t answer him. ‘Do you need a ride home, or are you okay to drive?’
He’s too kind, he would never act that way, he would never say that to you.
‘I took a cab, I’ll be fine,’ you tried to say, but still you quickly found yourself being led to the front door as the audience swarmed around you, his hand on your back to make sure you stayed standing, a true gentleman. It had started raining while you were inside which explained the scent pairing with the smoke that covered up his cologne, and you just stood under the marquee as he hailed a cab for you as the sea of skeptics washed around you like rushing water. You hopped inside but he didn’t shut the door right away, leaning down in the rain once you were seated, and for a moment you wondered if he was going to get in when he spoke.
‘I do hope you come to my show, preferably Friday’s, it’s gunna be a good one, I promise,’ he said with that big genuine smile again, your heart pounding as your cheeks glowed red for a reason other than embarrassment as you gave him a small nod.
‘I’ll be there,’ you promised back, and he tapped the roof of the cab before shutting the door and letting you go. You looked out the back window as you drove away, the both of you waving as he ducked back inside and out of the rain, and as soon as you turned back around to face forward you found yourself reaching for your wallet. His card was in your hands as you looked it over, all in all it was an uninspiring, plain business card, and you flipped it over to read what he wrote for the ticketmaster on the back.
Wait for me by the back entrance at 11:00 Phil will let you in JD
Your cheeks turned red again as you put the card away, the cab driver giving you a look in the rearview mirror as you held your nearly empty wallet, now with one business card, to your thumping chest. Oh yeah, it definitely was all worth it after all.
#Ray's Readers#david dastmalchian#jack delroy#jack delroy x reader#would you believe I wrote this over a few hours listening to a dramatic cover of Dear God cause I loved the vibes lmao#completely wrong vibes but it's SUCH a good cover guys#it's pretty tame for this one but yeah full disclosure there's probably gunna be lots of hands focus in my writings#his are Beautiful and Perfect and Very Attractive and I am W E A K okay
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