#THE ANIMATION???? THE MUSIC???? EVERYTHING????

[1nthedarknessofthenight]

﴾ wild side

pairing: gang leader!bangchan x f!reader

genre: one-shot, mafia au, smut

word count: 11,8K

warnings: minor violence ⋆ blood and weapons ⋆ reader works as a waitress in a strip club⋆ dom!chris and sub!reader ⋆ lap dancing! ⋆ oral (m.receiving) ⋆ unprotected!sex ⋆ creampie!

summary: one night, while you were making your way home after work, you came across something you shouldn’t have seen and even if you run away, there was no way for you to escape the man with the scar across his face

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Someday you think, you will give up. Everything hurt — your arms, legs and mostly your head. It pulsated with every step you took and you silently prayed that you wouldn’t end up passed out on the cold, wet ground. You huffed, completely exhausted, but as you imagined yourself scrubbed clean and snuggled in your comfy bed, it kind of helped keep you motivated.

You wondered how long it would take before you just decided not to work anymore. It wasn’t like the job is bad or anything, quite the opposite. You get handsomely paid and that wasn’t a surprise. You work as a waitress at one of the most popular strip club in the city. You slept through the day, waking up late to get ready for your night shift. Every day you had to smile and giggle at the most gross and creepy men in hopes they would tip you more. But you can’t say anything to that. You have nothing to whine about and also you really liked it there. Pretty interior, good music and shows — maybe it's just your distaste for life at the moment.

Your naked feet dance across the ground, heels in your hand and you do hate yourself for forgetting about your other shoes. You did left your apartment quite in hurry. As well as now. It wasn’t the fact that walking on the ground made you literally shiver in disgust, it was mostly because you were starting to get highly aware of your position right now.

The early hours of morning are probably the most dangerous in this city. When you decided to live here, you didn’t look much into the history of the city. However every luxury and dreamlike city comes with secrets. The streets were still dark, quiet and cold, your hair sticking to your skin slightly from the humidity. You had to press your arms around your chest a little tighter when you hear a small noise behind you. You at that moment realized how unarmed you were. Cold, shivering in your skirt and light jacket, alone — you can’t help, but feel frightened a little.

This city was known for its crime, but being also so charming it makes all the tourist, just like you, blind enough not to see the danger it truly holds. Your head whipped around to look behind you. Nothing. Though you do pick up your pace, hissing at the small stones digging into your feet. Your droopy eyes flickered over the seemingly empty streets, few lamps lighting your path. You wanted nothing more than be in your apartment already as you started to feel not so alone anymore when another unexpected noise is heard.

A clinking of a glass bottle echoes around you. It was probably just a stray animal or something, but your heart still skipped a beat. You turned back around to look before you, but your eyes stopped at the well known open, alley next to you. It was a short cut, however you only took it at day when it seemed way more safe. The way the darkness almost seemed to pull you into it made you uncomfortable. You knew that you should never take a dark alley so late, even if you heard noise on the other end of the street. Something about it just screamed danger, yet it also called out to you and you knew how much time it would safe you by going that way — so you did.

Turning around the corner you couldn’t help, but look around your surroundings. Still nothing. It still scared you just a little, because you can never know, but just standing on the same spot won’t help you either. Sighing you walked further into the dark alleyway, grumbling just a little when you walked into small puddle. You really couldn’t afford being sick, another thing that made you go just a little faster. For being the city of crime at night, the rent prices really weren’t that low. You of course asked yourself if maybe moving away would be better, but you never knew that working at a strip club would make you meet the most important people in your life right now. You were just a runaway and all of them invited you with open arms. District 9 was also a city of outcasts — just like you.

Your nails dig into your jacket, piercing your skin almost from the way the pathway before you became completely dark. The only thing helping you see was the Moon and looking up, you for a second became blinded by its beauty. Cold kissed your cheeks, nose runny and your eyes slightly glossed over. Your dreamlike state didn’t last for very long, just like your sanity as you heard a very loud sound from somewhere near you.

You immediately jumped, body freezing. Your eyes widened, maybe to see better and when you heard the same noise once again you let out a small sigh of fright. However as the sound traveled to your senses, you quickly realized it was just a sound of car’s door closing. You almost wanted to laugh at yourself. Your paranoia still lingered when you looked into the direction of the sound and you fight back a shiver as it is the same way you must take to get home. You for a second wondered if there was maybe another way, but you knew that at the end, few blocks away was your warm, cozy home.

Taking a few, slow steps forward, your cold feet dragged across the ground for a second, thinking. Your ears were on high alert, eyes unfocused as it would help you hear better. Nothing, but was it really? Your hand gripping the string of your purse traveled down to open it. Fishing through it, your movements frantic, trying to find your choice of weapon. Even if your bag was rather small it got messy really fast. Before you could panic any longer your fingers finally grazed over the plastic, pulling it out quickly, your index finger immediately finding the dip at the top of the pepper spray. You kept it for years and you prayed that you won’t have to use it any time soon. You also wondered if it was still useable, but there’s only one way to found out.

The alley became less narrow the further you went, just like you remembered. You found a safe spot next to a brick wall, away from the warehouse next to you, hand dragging across the stone. You never liked that place. It was damned to be demolition and you always came across few pieces of stones falling from the walls. It seemed like a big hazard to you, but for some reason no one wanted to take it down.

As you were almost half way through the alley a flash of light flickered on the ground. You stopped in your tracks when it fell on the ground right before you, but just before it disappeared you followed it with your eyes. It flashed right before you then it traveled to the brick wall and when you turned around you realized it was coming from the building right next to you. It came from the inside, because from what you could see, it disappeared right when it hit a wall next to one of the broken windows. You couldn’t help but frown in confusion, head tilting down to maybe see inside what seemed like the basement window.

Maybe it was just some kids messing around, but when you decided to continue your walk home something stopped you. A loud sound pierced your ears, making you let out a small gasp, grasping your chest. However your noise was small compared to the short painful scream that came right after. You froze, breathing heavily, grasping your pepper spray in death grip. Turning once again you turned to the direction of the small window and from this angle you could finally see inside.

You didn’t know why you didn’t just run away as it was not worth it, but what if somebody was in danger. You probably wouldn’t be able to sleep with the guilt if you would see something in news later. You glanced back to the direction of your home and back to the window. You are troubled and just a little bit terrified. This wasn’t a good idea, but you were never good at making decisions, so you only walked closer.

And with careful steps, trying to be as quiet as possible at this hour. You bend in the knees, falling almost when the light shined yet again, but it thankfully wasn’t in your direction. You leaned closer with your free hand on the wall, lowering yourself on your knees. You fought back the disgust when your skin touched the dirty, cold ground, centering your attention on the light instead. You again followed it, watching how it was put down on something.

Your lips parted in shock, because as soon as the light was put down, the light beam hit a person rolling on the floor in agony. Then two feet dressed in fine, polished shoes stepped into the direction of the person. Their footsteps squeaked, shuffling closer and closer to the injured man. The one standing had their back turned to you, like the one on the ground, but just as you wondered what happened to the person they rolled over onto their back. Your hand immediately fell to your mouth, silencing your gasp at the sight.

Blood was everywhere on the man’s face. His hand put pressure onto his bleeding eye, but even with that he couldn’t stop the liquid from flowing out. Your legs shook and even with your fright you could still hear the words from the man standing. “Tell me their names.” The voice is low and rough. The demand meant for the injured man is only answered in series of pleas.

You were in state of shock, completely frozen in your spot. You couldn’t even breathe at that moment, watching with wide eyes as the standing man crouched down to his level. You could only see the back of his head full of dark hair, his wide shoulders caging the trembling man who raised his hands in surrender. However it didn’t seem like that man was moved by his apologies. You should’ve ran before it was too late, but how? You didn’t know what to do. Nothing, there was nothing for you to do to help that poor man as the man before him mumbled something that made the other scream in terror.

Your mouth fell wide open as when man with wide shoulders stood up again, holding out his hand. Another person which you didn’t see till then handed him a weapon — a gun. Your eyes filled with tears, because you would probably see the most gruesome sight in your life. Your breathing picked up, heart beating so fast you thought it would jump out of your chest. You couldn’t…you couldn’t look further as the dark haired man pointed the gun at the man who shook like a leaf. And then you did a very stupid thing…

You went to move away from the window, but your hand on the wall slipped, making your foot drag forward. A gasp that came from your lips was louder than the man’s cries, but not the stones rolling down from the window, landing right next to the man’s feet. You were immediately blinded by light shining into your face and you thought you almost died out of fear itself at that moment when the man turns to you.

The first thing you noticed about him was the large scar running across his face, starting from his eyebrow and ending at his chiseled jaw. His full lips were pulled into a scowl, brown eyes glaring right into yours. You felt like at the brink of fainting, because you immediately recognized him. His face was all over the news, only a sketch, but everyone knew about the man with a scar. Bangchan was his name. The most dangerous man of the whole city, a leader of an underground gang that is known for haunting these streets at night.

His whole demeanor screamed danger and hearing his voice once again, it did activated your fight or flight instinct. “Get her.” It came out cold and unemotional. His voice made your whole body vibrate, eyes falling to the gun still in his hand, but he did not make a move to raise it to your head. Instead you only heard heavy, quick footsteps and before you finally jumped away from the window, you saw three dark figures moving in the shadows — right into the direction of the side entrance to the warehouse, just where you were.

You knew you should never run to your home when someone was chasing you, but you had better chance at making it home than running back. You rised to your feet, not even thinking twice and running out of the aisle. Your legs immediately quivered at your sudden moves, feeling your muscles scream. Stumbling slightly, you almost slipped as you round the corner, running out of the alley just as you heard the sound of heavy metal doors slamming against a wall.

From the brute force you swear it vibrated in your bones. In your runaway plan you didn’t even realize you left your heels behind, but they were not going to help you anyway. You already had hard time using your legs, bare feet feeling like they would crumble at any moment. You couldn’t ignore the footsteps behind you. You looked back frantically, one of the three man a little too close to your liking. A cry of disbelief and horror left you, eyes going back to look at the sidewalk before you. You prayed that somebody would appear and safe you, but knowing what kind of people were chasing you nobody would be able to help you anyway.

You were so close. One block and you were home. You were trying not give up, lungs burning, metallic taste in your mouth overwhelmed your senses for a second. And then when your mind cleared again, you heard nothing. You didn’t stop however, only turning your head back around. You cried out in small relief as you saw nobody behind you on the sidewalk.

You didn’t think much of it as you stumbled over your apartment building. You didn’t think about the fact that they maybe were watching you, seeing that running after you was no use. Your adrenaline rush was greater than their strength. You knew that they wouldn’t give up. That man won’t give — he will hunt you down and do whatever he wants with you, because that’s just who he is. However you only felt relief when you walked inside your home, just as the orange hue of the rising sun start to peaked out from behind the tall buildings, but you also couldn’t ignore the lingering darkenss.

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A dream, a nightmare — that’s what you thought it was when you woke up. Your eyes were all puffy, mind still fuzzy, but also on high alert at the same time. You remember how the first thing that you did when you stumbled inside your apartment was deadbolting it and moving your wardrobe to block the door. It all happened so fast that you still even now think you really just dreamed all of it. However losing your favorite heels and also the pepper spray under your bed told you the opposite. You really are surprised that you even woke up, seeing that you overslept your alarm three times. You were in hurry to get to work in time, but you think should’ve called the police instead. However you know that it would put even more of a target on your head. You don’t know what this man is truly capable of and you can’t be certain that he hasn’t got anyone in the police, because he always gets away with everything. Also by the time the cops would get there, there would be no clue that would indicate that the most dangerous gang was even there.

Your paranoia and fear for your own safety led you to passing out the moment you fell on to your bed. You were still in your dirty, damp clothes, waking up half an hour late, but somehow you managed to find time for a shower, do your makeup and dress up. You at that moment realized how your life is just a show. You slept even more than yesterday, but somehow you are the most tired you have ever been. The second you walked into your work, a wave of guilt hit you. You really should’ve called the police as soon as you got to your apartment. However you really did give them a lot of time to clean up after their mess. maybe you shouldn't have gone to the window — you really thought you could be the hero.

You feel like a clown in your mid length sparkly dress and heels, staring at the small tv at the far left corner. The sign ‘Girls,Girls,Girls’ next to it made it quite hard to see clearly on the screen, but you could recognize the blurry sketch everywhere. However it isn’t a report like you expected, it is only a remind to call the police if you see anyone similar to this image. The police and probably even FBI are getting a little too desperate to your taste when they put a price on his head. They are only putting civilians into danger and you just know that taking down the leader of this gang would only cause more trouble. Everybody knows Bangchan as a bad man, a murder who steals and brakes things, like the lives of innocent people. From every report there is about his actions it seemed like he leaves nothing behind other than few hints. You wonder if all of those victims have anything in common, but if they did the federal government wouldn’t give too much information out. They are all liars and assholes. You remember your coworker telling you that they once barged in to the club with guns, leaving shortly after with no explanation what so ever. You moved to the city few months after that fiasco.

You wipe down a glass, unaware of your surroundings, so when an empty tray falls right on the counter before you, you jump right out of your skin. Your head whips to the girl before you who only gives you a look of confusion in return. “Girl, you good?” Cathy asks you, her dark hair falling into her eyes, but you still see her glare. You know her the longest out of anyone. She was the one other than her best friend Nina who dances at the private rooms who helped you with everything. A lot of people come and go, but you are greatful that she stayed here with you, just like the boy next to you.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, making your eyes fall onto David who wears the same look on his face. “What’s going on? You’ve been very jumpy today.” There’s a pull on his bushy eyebrows and you realize that it’s concern. He always has the tendency to joke around more than anything and you see him like this only from time to time, so it makes you even more nervous.

You blink at him in thought. “Did one of the guys give you trouble again?” The girl before you goes further and you fight the argue to just break down and tell them everything. You think about what to answer. If you told them, you would probably put them in danger and you definitely couldn’t live with that. You will just have to wait till your shift is over and call the police…

Your eyes flicker back to the tv that nobody other than staff stares at sometimes, there are simply way prettier things to look at. “Nothing happened, just tired…I guess.” It comes out leveled yet little and something told you that even with such a reassuring tone they didn’t believe you.

They didn’t ask you further after that, but both of them kept a careful eye on you for the next two hours and you almost quivered at their intense gazes. You prefer to be honest over anything, but you really can’t. You tried to distract yourself with looking at the dancers. Their moves were usually so mesmerizing and beautiful, but right now their sensual moves were not enough to distract you from overthinking.

Maybe it’s the fact that you were acting like nothing actually happened, because you didn’t talk about it nor called the police, but you swear you felt someone watching you. It weren’t the eyes of a peeping Tom like you are quite used to — these ones drilled holes into your back. Every time you would go away from the bar to collect empty glasses and take order which was quite frequent, because the club was packed full tonight, goosebumps would appear on your body. You can’t help, but imagine those dark, brown eyes looking at you from somewhere. Your own imagination will be the death of you.

In your hurry to get back to the bar and order the drinks from a table full of collage boys, a single shot of tequila was left behind. You know you shouldn’t do it as it is against the policy, but you find yourself not caring too much, swallowing the shot in one, smooth go. It immediately burns at the back of the throat and you look around swiftly to see if anyone saw you and to your delight no one even batted an eye at you.

“Y/N!” At the sound of your name, you freeze, thinking you actually got caught in your act, but you are only met with Cathy again. She walks up to you with heavy breaths, hair sticking to her forehead from the humidity. “They need you as a backup—“ With her words she nods her head to the direction of the VIP section, before making her way back to the bar with her own tray of empty glasses.

You frown, eyes snapping to that direction. You have never been in there, because it is a known fact that only specific people could get in there. It is like an individual part of the club and you think you have never met anyone from there other than Nina. Celebrities, politicians all sorts of known people go there from what you know and you definitely wouldn’t be able to slip in as your eyes fall on the tall bodyguard guarding the door. You snap back to reality, realizing you are literally standing in the middle of the room.

You walk up quickly to the dark haired girl, your expression still the same, but she somehow isn’t so phased by it. “At the private rooms?” You say slowly, trying to see if this is supposed to be some sort of joke.

Putting down the tray next to hers, you watch her for a second, but Cathy only nods, not even looking at you as she starts to make a Bloody Mary. “Yeah and someone is asking for you—“

You only give her another look of confusion, tilting your head in thought. Your eyes quickly travel to the stages, then to the private section and back then back to her again, “I’m not a dancer.” You almost scoff, not in disgust, but at the thought of your stiff-self dancing that way.

Her laugh is sharp and it kind of offends you in some way. “I know, baby.” David just happens to round the corner to help her, not without giving you an odd look. “They just asked you to help them back there, it’s packed full.”

You hum, still not sure why you, because someone like her or David would definitely be a better help. You still sometimes look at the recipe for certain drinks, like rainbow shots — very popular in the bar, those gave you a whiplash every time you would try to make them. The thought of the VIP section with private rooms being completely full didn’t seem weird to you. Here, at your usual section they aren’t any private rooms simply because the people at the private area are usually famous so if anything would’ve happened they would sure pay for it.

You go take your tray again, but a hand stops you, pushing it away from you. You give your male friend a small look when he points back to the direction of the private area. “Okay…and who is asking for me?” You say, walking to the edge of the bar, before you walk away.

“They didn’t say.” Answers you Cathy, running away with her tray now filled to the brim with drinks. You look quickly at David who just also walks away from you, serving another thirsty customer.

You don’t question their weird behavior anymore, seeing that they have their hands quite full at the moment, but you wonder why they behaved so weirdly towards you. It is weird in some way that someone asked for you specifically as you weren’t even a dancer. A lump forms at the back of your throat, while making your way towards the big man guarding the doors to your destination. The more you get closer, the more your heart beats faster. Something about this screamed trouble, but maybe you were just exaggerating.

Even from a distance the man at the door sees you and he sure is intimidating, even his stare makes you doubt if you can even go near his direction. He is so tall that it hurt to look up at him, almost forgetting why you are here in the first place when you stop before him. “Ehm…I’m Y/N, somebody was asking for me?” You say uncertain.

He looks you up and down quickly, before his eyes scan the room. When he looks back at you, he nods, stepping away from the doors which seemed miniature next to him. “Follow me.” He says, voice rough, like he smoked a whole pack of cigarettes before saying there two simple words. You mimic his nod dumbly, smacking your lips together to smudge your lipstick. You watch the man open the door for you, however just a little to let you slip in.

You immediately blink rapidly to adjust your vision to the darkness surrounding you. You are blinded by how dark the room is, stopping to stare at a light up stage filled with no dancers so far. Your eyes thankfully adjust to the change of lightning enough to let you see your surroundings. Confusion is the first thing you feel as you look around the area — literally no one is here. The room in some way looks the same as the section you work at, but it definitely lacks in life. You become nervous suddenly when you see the bodyguard turning around to walk back to you, seeing you aren’t following him.

You gasp slightly when he wraps his hand around your bicep, pushing you with him. His grip is so tight that it hurt to move, you didn’t have anything against going further into the room, but now you do. Your eyes follow the trail of empty tables to the lit stage again. The grip the man has you in made you scared, because there really isn’t a respond for him to do such that — only if he thought you were trying to escape…just like now.

A small sound of pain leaves you, pulling at his hand to at least loosen his grip. There really wasn’t a chance you could overpower him, you only looked stupid in the process, turning your body back to the entrance to push him back. Before he again pushes you closer to him, you get a glimpse of the outside…you never knew that those windows were one way mirrors. That made you sick to your stomach.

You stumble in your heels, but he basically walked for you the whole time. However you do almost fall forward when he twirls you around a surprisingly full table. You only see the back of their heads, but before you could wonder who these people are, the man holding you shoves you right before them. The brute force makes you double over, hands falling on to the table of their booth, shaking it in the process.

“There she is—“

You can’t breath — there is no way…you are officially dead. When you look up from the plastic table, you don’t look at the owner of the voice, but right at the man sitting before you. A choked sound leaves you, your heavy breaths fanning away your hair from your eyes to see the truth better. It is him. If the aura radiating from him wasn’t a dead giveaway, it would certainly be the scar running across his face. Your eyes met briefly, like yesterday and just like the last time, it activated your fight or flight instinct.

You turn around to run away, but you are only held back by the same man who took you here. How stupid of you to think you could get away. Your legs buckle, eyes starting to sting, because you can’t believe this is your life right now — well, probably the end of it. Chuckles are let out across the table and you become disgusted at such sound at such moment. “Oh, no where are you going?” Is said jokingly from your left side, your eyes falling onto a man with black, short hair and surpringly glimmering eyes.

You don’t know who he is exactly, but you just know that these men are all the eight members of Stray Kids. A funny name for such dangerous men, but it somehow suited them as they never stayed in one place, messing up lives all across the state like nothing. You can’t breath, your fear even blinded the pain from the grip on your shoulders. Even if your eyes go all around the whole table, your eyes still stop on him.

“No need to be scared now.” Says another, more deep voice and from your peripheral vision you see that it is the blonde man next to the leader. “We don’t bite.”

You stay quiet, your eyes falling on the sliver of skin peaking from his black shirt, too weak to look into his eyes or anywhere else. You do not believe that man, because how? There’s nothing that can make you feel even the slightest at ease right now. His voice was low, but reassuring in a sense, he tried, but it fell to deaf ears. You are starting to panic, thinking about how just few feet away from you are people that could possibly help you. However you can’t even breathe let alone move with that vice grip the bodyguard is holding you in and you realize that he probably was working for them the whole time. How did they manage to get in? With their reputation it must be hard for them to even get some sunlight, but somehow they are all sitting right before you in total relaxation. They do not look or sound angry with you, maybe because you are nothing, but a small fly to them anyway. It won’t take too much to take you down.

Your eyes trail higher, stopping at his yet again and with your blurry eyes you don’t see the small speck of softness at the corners of his eyes. “I swear, I won’t tell anyone what I saw, please don’t hurt me—“ You can’t believe you are actually begging for your own life.

“What did you see exactly?” Asks a man to your right. Your eyes travel to him, tears falling out of your eyes onto the table, clearing your vision for just a second, letting you get a glimpse of him. This one you recognize — long black hair, the famous freckle under his eye. Like his leader, his face has been seen several times and he definitely had no reason to hide such face. Now, his sharp features were pulled into mock thought, looking down at you in waiting.

Your lips parted and the men at the table can’t help, but smile at your expression. “Nothing…” You answer.

“No lying.”

You immediately turn to the leader. You frown slightly at his statement, not looking too long into his eyes, because it felt like he could literally turn you into stone by a single look. You realize that the long haired man was just making fun of you, twisting your fear into something they could smile at. You want to sneer at him, but that sure wouldn’t be smart and you can’t do anything other than blink between the leader and the place next to his head. “I saw something.” You confess, like they already didn’t know that. You look back at him again, giving him a look. “But I swear, I will not tell anyone.” There are few glances being shared between them, but yours was still on him. “I didn’t call the police…”

There is a pull at the corner of his plump lips, not even blinking as he looks into your eyes and you find yourself being mesmerized. “Of course not.” His tone is teasing and you again nervously exhale through your nose.

“What do you want?” You ask that question finally being spoken. “Just please don’t hurt me or my friends, they don’t know anything, no one—“

“A dance…” Your breath hitched at that, gazing at his lips and how each syllable roll out his tongue. You are completely left speechless. “Give us a dance and it will be as if nothing happened.”

Your lips are left parted in disbelief, eyes flickering over the whole table as you thought only of it as a joke, but none of them had a smile of amusement on their faces. You can’t believe that they really meant it. Something stabs you in the heart. It is way too easy, you have caught them in the act, they should end you like you expected. The fact that they are confident enough to know you won’t go and tell anyone after this is really making your blood boil. However they are right…you won’t tell anyone. You will pay for what you saw with just a dance, but you know that they will still keep an eye on you. You are not smart enough to take them down, you are just a girl.

Your breathing becomes leveled, seeing that they don’t have any intention to hurt you. You look up from the table to the leader who sighs through his nose heavily and even from here you can see his muscles in his legs jumping when he spreads his legs just a little wider. You can’t help but think how he would look at you if you would dance on his lap. You instantly feel heat spreading across your cheekbones, looking away from his bottom half to his face. This expression is different from any other and you are not so sure what it meant, but it sure made you bashfully look away.

“Oh…she’s shy—“ A cat like man teases and you shoot him a glare, only to receive a smile of pure amusement.

“How cute.” Coos another, the same one that had greeted you to the table. You momentarily turn to look at him, only seeing him looking at man in the center. “Maybe you should take her somewhere private.” Your heart beats faster, eyes widening. “We already have plenty here.” The dark haired man mentions to the stage and you didn’t even realize that the stage was already full of dancers. You want to open your mouth again and scream for help, but you know better than that.

You hear him move first, the leather of the booth squealing under him as he suddenly appears right in front of you. You gasp softly in shock, you didn’t even notice him making his way to you. You look up at him, just in eyes level with his chest. “How’s that sweetheart?” He almost sounds soft, however his eyes shined with fire looking down at you with his bottom lip caught in his mouth.

You sigh, nodding in shame. He doesn’t say anything else, waving his hand in the air, making the bodyguard let go of you. You stumble slightly, but you are quick enough to jump away from the hands trying to catch you. You do not need him touching you with those hands right now. You don’t look at him, looking down at his feet instead that turn to the direction of the private rooms. Your heart is in your throat, but something told you there’s no reason for you to be so scared. If he wanted to hurt, he would’ve done it a long time ago.

You wipe away your already dried tears, eyes falling on the stage and your eyes momentarily met with one of the dancers, Nina. She has to stay in character all the time, but she still gives you a quick reassuring look. You are only left confused, wobbling your way behind the man. Are you scared or nervous? You are really starting to wonder, piercing holes into his back that rips with every move of his arms. You keep your distance, watching him push a curtain to one of the rooms away and then turning around to let you in first. Your mouth opens again, like a fish. There is a small sneer at your lips as you glance at him and he gives you a raise of his eyebrow in return.

You hold your breath when you pass by him, but you still get a whiff of his strong cologne. He is close to you, so close that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. You shiver turning to look back at him, but he is already in front of you. You stand in the middle of the lightly lit room, eyes going to the booth that sat at the corner of the small room. There is a pole in the middle of it and your mouth dries out when he makes his way to that direction. Your legs start to shake at the thought of the pole between your thighs, not so sure if it was from fright or pure excitement. You can’t lie that you haven’t thought of also dancing, but you are not sure you if you could even look half as good as those girls on the stage.

Weight is lifted from your shoulders when he comes to the table to only pull out a chair for himself. He moves the chair so smoothly, twirling it in his hand to place it before you. You hate that you are somehow mesmerized by his movements and the way he goes to sit down on the chair. You don’t even register biting on your lip, but it is mostly from how nervous you are. The man pulls his pants up to his lower region to be more comfortable and your eyes fall into that direction with wide eyes.

“I like the dress.” He breaks the silence, while spreading out his legs. Two or three more buttons on his shirt are undone, maybe popping from the size of his muscular chest. You quickly snap back to present, fingers playing with the hem of your dress at his statement, watching him slowly trail his brown eyes down your body. “Not so sure about the shoes…” Your silent question about that statement is answered rather quickly as he without breaking eye contact bends over, hand going under the booth. You can’t believe you are still getting shocked after all that happened, but it sure is surprised to you when he pulls out your beloved Jimmy Choo heels. “Put them on for me, baby.”

Something hot pools in your lower tummy at the nickname, your heart already is beating so fast that you can hear it in your ears. You don’t want to thank him for such thing, but it still made you happy. Those shoes became something very special to you as they were the first ever pair of luxury heels you bought. You catch his eyes and without word you pull your legs up to untie your way cheaper heels.

They are thrown across the room, not really caring too much at the moment as you slowly make your way to him. He holds your shoes for you take and when you stand in front of them, you definitely don’t remember them being so clean. They are shining, like brand new, but there is still that one large scratch at the pointed tip. It reminds you of the scar that the man before you has in some way.

You are close to him, the closest you have been so far and the soft orange light hitting his face makes him look devilish. Taking your shoes from him, you step back slightly to put them on, not missing how his eyes fall to your cleavage when you bend over. He licks his lips, looking you up and down again and you wonder if he likes what he is seeing. “Now, dance for me.” He demands and you remember at his tone who this man really is. “No need to be so scared…you take tips right?” The smirk adoring his lips told you that his words were meant for something else and you finally scoffed at him.

He doesn’t look offended by the sound, only pushing his body down further. You follow the movement, but your head rolls to look at the cushion ceiling right after. You feel nothing, but weak, swaying your hips softly to the beat of the music to get in the mood. You could imagine someone else in the chair, but how? You can feel him, smell him even, head falling down in exhaustion from even trying.

You roll your body the same way you have seen the dancers do it, hands caressing over your hips. If you give him a good enough dance, it would be over sooner — or he on the other hand won’t get enough. The shot of tequila in your system helps you build confidence when you walk slowly to him. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, even challenging you with his intense stare. You think you are starting to get into it as you act like you are falling over, just to smack your hands on each side of his chair. Your knees touch his, the material of his pants tickling your naked skin. Then you shiver — your eyes widened at your own body responding like that. He watches your inner struggle, head hanging low to catch your gaze. You are surprised that he didn’t look down, keeping his eyes only on yours and you straightened up at that.

When you go push your breasts back into your dress, because they almost spilled over, you almost gasp. Your nail hits plastic right between your breasts and thankfully the sound is masked by the music. It was your pepper spray, you completely forgot about putting it there. You know that it’s stupid, but he seems a little hazy and your attack would be unexpected. If you would spray him with it, then hit him with something and dash out the back door, you could call the police.

You move slowly around him, hand falling between your breasts the moment you stop behind him. However just as you pull it out, ready to turn around and spray it in his face, his hand stops you. You gasp at the strong grip on your wrist, watching him stand up from his seat to press you against the table. “Now what is this?” He asks you, eyes going to your pepper spray that falls to the ground with a heavy sound. Your mouth opens and closes, heavy breaths mixing with his from his close proximity. “You really thought you could take me out with that?” You didn’t even know that he knew about it the moment you had bend over.

His chest is pressed against yours, each hand being pinned down to the table by his. He towers over you slightly as he maneuvered you on the table a little bit. You are silent for a second, eyes going over his face. Even if there’s no smile you can see the amusement reflecting in his eyes. “You can’t touch me, the policy here—“ Are your words, because you couldn’t think of saying anything else. You again put yourself in the hands of death.

“I know the policy.”

“Then you know, you can’t touch—“

“The dancers and the waitresses?” He finishes for you, smiling down at you. “Baby…I know the rules, I made them after all.” You look at him bewildered, your expression fading into thin air when he puts his head into the dip between your shoulder and neck. “Now we will rewrite them for my and yours benefit.” Every word bounces off your skin, chills going down your spine.

You shutter, feeling him press his nose into the skin behind your ear. “This club is not yours.” You whisper, not too harshly like you intended too.

His hum vibrates on your skin, hearing him take a deep breath of your spicy perfume. “Have you seen the owner?” He asks you.

You pull your head away to look at him in the eyes. He sounded so genuine and you could even see it. Your mind quickly comes back to your first day here — you got the job few days after the interview and you remember that no owner shook your hand and congratulated you, it was actually Cathy. Your eyes widened, shaking your head in disbelief. “How? How can anyone not know about this?” You breathe out.

He can tell who you are referring to, because he lets his people look over the files of new people. His friends go here way frequently than him, but when Changbin chased after you yesterday, he immediately recognized you. Such a coincidence that you are actually already work for him. Watching you through the one way window, he couldn’t believe himself that he didn’t see you sooner. You are shining and seeing you talk with his best people in this business, he just had to have you. “Some do, trust me.” He says, his mind wandering to their sponsors. “Some of them just don’t have the balls to do anything about it and tell me why would anyone want to close down the best strip club in the city?” He laughs shortly, pulling you closer to him. “Do you know that cops come here? It’s funny really, they are so close yet so far…”

You are breathing heavily form his words, but you do not move away from him. You want to justify yourself that he was simply too strong, even if his hold was on the softer side. “Bang Chan…”It comes out as a plea and you don’t even know for what yourself.

“Call me, Chris.”

You are shocked by him revealing his name to you, because it almost sounded like a promise. Your mouth is left gaping when you see him lowering his lips to your neck. Your pulse is pressing against your skin and it jumps when his lips just barely graze over the thin layer of skin. It burns, so much that you feel by it in your stomach. “You won’t get away with this.” You say. You tried so hard to sound intimidating, but you just can’t think straight when he presses kisses on your neck.

“Oh, really?” Humming, he suddenly bites down your neck and you gasp wildly at such bold move.

“Please—“ You say, breathlessly, his name just at the tip of your tongue.

He stops at your word, turning back to you with glassy eyes. “Please, what?” His voice is rough and on the edge.

You think about what exactly you are pleading for. For him to continue or stop immediately? Something in between. Your desire is making you blind. This man before you is a criminal, a bad person you want to say, so why does his touch feel so good? “Please…don’t.” Your mind answers for you, your heart screaming the other.

“Don’t?” He repeats after you and you firstly think that he sounded offended, but then you feel his hand on your thigh. You almost whimper at his hot touch, eyes going down to his hand moving up your soft skin. You don’t make a move to stop him, your mind clouded by the way his hand perfectly fit in the dip of your upper thigh. You didn’t even feel your dress riding up your body, but it didn’t even matter as he still touches you through your underwear. “Then why are you soaking through?” You only sigh, feeling his fingers pressing right into your clothed clit. “I can see your pussy from here.” There goes another one of his smiles, eyes flying from your dripping center to yours.

“You are a bad person…” You say, voice too little.

His hand stops, but the same pressure on your cunt stays the same. “Says who? The police?” He raises his eyebrow, almost spitting that last word.

“You killed someone.”

He nods, becoming cold for a second. “Yes, but do you even know why?” You are silent, watching his face scrunch up in what seem like disgust. “That man was a bad person who definitely deserved something worse than death.”

You breathe out heavily. “So you think you are good person, because you killed a bad person and not a good one?”

“You said I’m a good person?” Goosebumps appear on your body, but not so much from fear anymore. Arousal drips out of you, his fingers pulling the material of your lace underwear to the side. You let him willingly, even eagerly. He gave you a moment to make a choice, but you only watch him with hazy eyes while he runs his pointer finger through your slick. “Though…I’m a gentleman.”

You snicker, you just can’t help it. “Oh, really? What about the hand in my panties?” His finger joins another for an answer, pressing harder and unexpectedly flicking your clit.

A brutal, filthy moan falls from your lip and he drinks it right up, playing with your clit between his two fingers. “Are you saying you don’t like this?” He sounds dreamy and you are on the edge of losing your mind over him. He lowers his head, resting it on your shoulder, plump lips right next to your ear. “I think you like the danger—“ You bite your lip not to let him hear the nasty sounds coming from the back of your throat. “—the thought of someone powerful taking over you, it excites you.”

You shake your head, your earring only being caught between his teeth. “You are just a man–“ You say, gritting your teeth in pleasure.

Your eyes are closed, but his are fully on you. “I’m, so excuse me for doing this—“ His finger suddenly breaches your hole and with no resistance what so ever.

You gasp out, your hand shooting to his. Only a one finger and he finds the spots inside you that you have trouble finding yourself. Your eyes open, head rolling to your other shoulder to look at him. He stills his hand for a second to straighten his back, watching you, trying to see if there is any hint that you want him to stop. However you only look at him with glossy eyes, red painted lips puffing out in small sighs. He can’t help himself, putting another finger inside you, curling them, pushing into the soft spot.

You whimper, feeling yourself dripping all over of his hand. “Please, I don’t know…” Your body knows — it’s already screaming just from his fingers and when your hips jump, your thigh touches his hard cock through his pants.

“I do.” He trusts his fingers in and out of you in steady yet too slow pace for your liking. “Just look at your body responding to me—“ You can see it yourself. Your body didn’t feel like yours anymore, hips bumping into his. “I still want that dance…a real dance.” He says, voice cracking at the end when he pulls his fingers out of you.

Gasp leaves you from shock and dissatisfaction. You stand before him, leaning on the table with rigid breaths. Lips parted, he looked at it like an invitation to shove his fingers in your mouth. You choke around his fingers for a second, eyes wide and staring into his, before your hand wraps around his to help you keep your sanity. You moan at your own taste, sucking at his fingers and slurping your juices and the taste of skin right up, eyes never leaving his and at that moment you realize you are in deep shit — there’s no way you can stop here.

He pulls his fingers away from you way too quickly, catching how his knuckles are stained red from your lipstick. You watch him walk backwards into the chair, not breaking eye contact when he falls into it, spreading his legs just like before, but now you don’t have to hide how much you enjoy seeing him do that. You hop off the table not even smoothing down your dress or putting your underwear back to its place. You can already feel your slick coating your inner thighs with each slow step, pressing them together to ease the ache between them.

You can’t beat yourself for behaving like this. That man is a whole course meal. Pretty, sparkling eyes hidden by his hair, flushed cheeks, bitten lips and also dangerous — you will dance for him and you won’t hold back. You feel possessed, mind clouded by arousal when you stop before him, right leg shooting up to balance your weight on the armrest of his chair. He groans lowly at your bold move, eyes going up your naked leg to your exposed cunt. “Look at you…” Before he could get a better look you, you put your leg down.

He is impressed by your change of character, letting you run your hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders. You want to moan at the muscles jumping under your touch, but then pretty nose pokes at the inside of your wrist, making short pain shoot up your body and you only now notice the small bruise on your skin. “Did he hurt you?” He asks, looking up at you.

His voice got lower, expression serious for a second. “A little bit.” You answer simply, too occupied with moving to the rhythm of the music.

The man in the chair forgets about it rather quickly as you turn around, bending over. Another, but even lower groan with hiss at the end leaves him at the view. “Yeah, that’s it bend over for me…” Curse flies out his mouth, hands gripping at the chair tightly to not just shove you into his cock right then and there. He almost drools over the swell of your ass peeking from the bottom of your dress and your panties that are dangerously melting into your cunt. He can see everything, but it isn’t enough. “I think, I have to hire you again as a dancer.”

You laugh breathlessly and then cry out when he smacks you unexpectedly across the back of your right thigh. You feel the sting and you are certain your skin will be sore tomorrow, but the pleasure that comes right after the slap is definitely worth it. “Turn around for me.” You wordlessly do as he says and you then shock yourself by just falling to your knees before him instead, however you are thankfully that you did, because the view you have is simply delicious. His hand comes to caress your face, fingers hooking under your jaw to press his thumb to your bottom lip. “Such pretty lips, think you could use them for better purpose than telling me I’m a bad person?”

“You basically said that yourself.” You fire back breathing matching his, your hands falling to his knees and you swear you see his cock jump in his pants.

“After I’m done with you, I will be the best person you have ever met.” His words are softer than expected, but the way he puts his thumb in your mouth isn’t. Your eyes momentarily close to savor the taste of his salty skin and he looks at you like he never seen anything so beautiful. “Say my name.” He gasps out, the sound hanging over the edge of being a pathetic whine.

Your eyes open, pulling out his thumb from your lips with a pop. “Chris.” You whisper, nervously playing with the waistband of his pants. How can you have such an effect on him already?

Chris lets you undone his belt and then his zipper, the crisp sound louder than the pumping music. Your mouth waters from the prominent buldge in his underwear, heart hammering against your chest. You can’t believe you are about to suck off the most dangerous man in the city — yet nothing ever felt so right to you. Your shaking fingers pull the material down, him putting his hands on yours in small reassurance. Now you only want him more.

You are again left speechless when you see the yummy, short patch of public hair and his cock slapping against his abdomen. Chris hisses at the cold air hitting his flushed, red tip, few drops of precum rolling down the length of it. Your pussy throbs painfully, pressing your thighs together at the simple view of his thickness. Maybe that is why he keeps sitting like that, to hide something like this everyday must be challenging, but now it will be your pleasure.

You don’t want to say it’s been a while since the last time you touched someone, but you want to say you have never seen someone this big. His ego sure comes from something. Your hand travels up his leg to pull out his heavy balls, not missing the opportunity to squeeze them lightly. Chris moans at your touch, head rolling back just by that. He looks so sensitive and it seems like he is. Your thumb pushes into his tip next, smearing his cum all over it, before finally wrapping your hand around him.

“Fuuuuuuck—“ Flies out his mouth, when you lean over to wrap your lips around him. You moan at his taste, rolling your tongue across his squishy yet hard cock. His hand goes to run through your hair, pushing the front strands back to see more of your pretty lipstick staining his length.

You swallow more of him, jaw hurting from the sheer thickness. Your eyes water, but you just have to look at him, moaning around him as you do so. You think have never felt this much pleasure from just pleasuring someone. The look on his face, his rising chest, sweat coating his neck…You gag when he presses you down further and even if he groans in pleasure, he doesn’t go further than that. On the other hand he pushes your head up and then back down, letting you get used to him using your mouth for its own pleasure.

The ground is stained with your juices, groans and moans from both of you echoing around the room and mixing with the music. You feel every vein on his cock pulsating, sucking on them harder to get closer and under his skin. When your nose hits the few hairs on his stomach you gargle, spit rolling out of your mouth. You are at that immediately pulled back from him, coughing wildly. “Sorry about that.” He says, not sounding too concern as he looks at your tear stained face mixed with saliva and his cum.

You nod, licking at your lips and that makes him tug at the roots of your hair. You whine at his rough manners, standing up just to be shoved into the table again with his hand in your hair helping you move around. Without a word you hop on to it, bare ass landing on the cold plastic. “Chris…” Just like him you are starting to like the way his names sounds on your lips. When you call out his name, he finally pulled down his pants and underwear, stepping between your open legs. He is dazed by the sight of his cock resting on your clothed mound, but you win his attention back with your sultry voice. You look like pure sin and with the small amount of red lipstick left on your lips he has to have it on his.

His hand in our hair softens when his lips fall onto yours. Chris can taste the hint of wax layer on your lips as well as his own musk on your tongue. You feel on cloud nine just by the way he kisses you. He kissed with so much passion that it felt like you have known each other for years. His lips are simply heavenly and sinfully delicious. “Hmm— fuck me…” Your words are swallowed by his lips, but he can feel them vibrating in his mouth.

Chris pulls away from you, not without biting on your bottom lip. “What was that?” You want to roll your eyes at his teasing tone, but only whimper instead when he puts the tip of his cock over your covered clit.

Your hips jump wildly, him holding them down with just one of his hand. “Fuck me, Chris—“ You say, lips on his throat and biting down on his Adam’s apple that bobbles up and down at your plea. He finally lets go, pulling your bottom half to him closer, your ass sliding and squeaking over the table. You watch him go down to his knees, but you quickly stop him even if the thought of him eating you out sounded nice, you want him inside of you more. “No, just fuck me–“

He looks up at you with big eyes and if you didn’t know his reputation you would say that those were the best puppy eyes you have ever seen. He wants to argue with you, tell you that he should prep you so he doesn’t hurt you, but he realizes that’s exactly what you want. You want him to fuck you so hard that his cock makes a mold inside your pussy. Pulling your right leg up, you push him forward, your pelvis meeting his. You whimper at the feeling of him between your legs, sweat already gathering across your forehead and you moan in delight when he pulls your soaked underwear to the side.

When Chris slides his cock through your folds to coat himself in your slick, he basically loses his mind. He never had pussy this dripping wet, pretty clit swollen and pulsating with every push of his hips. “You are beautiful.” He compliments you sweetly, hand holding his cock to your entrance, but not with caressing your face in his other hand first. You whimper, tummy full of butterflies from his comment. He has such a way with words and also that body of his — so good.

Your breath is knocked out of your lungs when he slides his hard cock into you. Your walls stretch around him, hungrily sucking him right him. It burns a little, legs shaking just from the feeling of him inside of you. Your heel doesn’t even touch the ground, shoe falling down on the ground while the other stays on as he kisses your neck. He licks and bites to kill the time, while he lets you adjust around him. You feel him sucking at your neck, creating purple blotches on your delicate skin. You eagerly run your fingers through his open shirt, clenching down on him when you feel pure muscles.

Chris hisses again, kissing down your collarbones, hips jumping into yours and you both groan when his mushroom tip kisses your cervix. When you clench again, it makes him slowly roll his hips again and he finally feels you relaxing in his strong hold. The way he moves makes your think he must be a dancer himself, because you are already feeling the sweet taste of your release. You both start to breath heavier, air becoming thick and hot around you the more he picks up his speed.

You whimper, almost sob, because you need more of him and just like he could read your thoughts he pulls his head away from your skin to kiss you. “Hold on, baby.” You only hum, letting him guide you to lean back, watching him pull your left leg over his shoulder. Your hand wraps around the pole next to your head and you are thankful that you do, because he immediately starts to trust in to you with roughness and precision.

You can’t help but squeal, crying from the shocks of pleasure as his hips snaps roughly into yours, filling you to the hilt with his cock. Your other leg shots up in reflex, pulling it to your chest. The way he fucks is anything but gentle, but it is all that you wished for. His pelvis hits the bottom of your thighs in loud slaps, pubic hair bumping deliciously into your clit. You fall back, not strong enough to hold yourself up anymore, only strong enough to take it. “Fuck, Chris!” Your voice doesn’t even sound like yours anymore.

The air is knocked out of you with each trust and he literally growls at the sound his name. Every time his hips snap into yours, your tits jump out of your dress and he couldn’t wonder any longer. Chis pushes roughly the material down and to his delight you didn’t have any bra on. His hands leave your hips just to grab your breasts, smushing them together. You moan as he pinches and rolls your nipples, whining loudly when he leans over you. It makes your legs press flush to your chest, his one hand falling next to your head to hover over your body while the other wraps around the pole right to yours.

“Fuck, I don’t think you can work here anymore—“ You clit is being bullied by his rolling hips, eyes becoming blurry, making it hard to see his. He helps you by squishing your cheeks between his fingers, making your lips pout cutely. “You will dance for me, only me from now on. What do you say, baby?”

His words are slightly hard to make out with the noises of skin slapping mixing with them, but even with your fucked out mind you could understand enough. You are drunk on him, spit coating his hand that falls back next to your head, seeing you are listening to him. “Are tips included?” You say, voice rough, nails biting at his shoulders.

“Oh, you will be taking the whole thing.”

You both smile breathlessly at each other, him not stopping fucking you, because seeing your pretty face screwing up in pleasure is to die for. Your sweaty hand slips from the pole and without realizing yourself, you put his face into the palm of your hand. Looking into his eyes, you see something flash in them when your fingers dance across the scar on his face. And then Chris whines — he fucking whines, like a broken puppy.

You clench around him at the sound and he only gives you another. “Gonna cum, gonna fucking cum inside of you, baby—“ He humms, grunting under his breath.

You already feel yourself falling over the edge, holding it just to make it better by cumming with him. “ Yeah, please, I want it.” You say.

“Yeah? You want it? Right here?” Chris pulls himself up enough to push his hand down on your lower stomach. You cry out, shaking like a leaf, because that is setting a whole fire inside of you. “Look, you can even see me in your cute, little tummy—“ He coos at your faces of pleasure. His hips shutter and yours jump. You try to calm your body down, but he is doing things you have never felt before. When the hand holding him up disappears, the one on your tummy pushes harder and when starts to do figure eights on your clit you are officially done for. “Cum for me, soak my cock, Y/N—“

You gasp loudly at the sound of your name rolling out of his tongue, back arching as you cum around him. Your pussy leaks, making a creamy ring of your pleasure around the base of his cock. Your whole body shakes right after the first wave, tits jumping in the air and the sight as well as the feeling of you cumming around him makes him shove his cock into your cunt the deepest he has been so far. Your ears ring, not even hearing yourself sobbing, but you do hear his moans of absolute pleasure. He stuffs you full, hand still pushing at your tummy and you whimper at the overstimulation, skin sticky with all sorts of fluids.

Your eyes are closed, concentrating on riding out your orgasm. You are simply dazed, but still you feel the small brush of his lips over yours and peaking at him through your clumped eyelashes, he flashes you a boyish smile. “Dinner?” The sight of your puffy cunt, fucked out expression and now drunk smile spreading across your lips was definitely worth the risk.

[applestorms]

L can be such a possessive character at times. he always strikes me as the type of person who is deeply aware of everything that he owns, both in a more literal sense and metaphorically-- like, he knows what money he has and how to use it, what resources are readily available to him and what he has to be sneakier to utilize, the habits and tendencies and emotional states of individuals and world governments both. the DN musical really puts an emphasis on the more computer-y aspects of how his brain functions, which isn't as obvious in the manga/anime but i think still works well as a way to follow his thinking. it's kinda what near does too: everything is a factor to them, every tiny detail a new opening to optimize for the best results, every person and location and object a part of a puzzle waiting to be solved. and as a part of that, L is deeply aware of every and any little thing he may or may not have control over, and exactly to what degree.

his habit of stealing titles as depicted in the LABB murders novel is such a good example of this. ryuzaki, eraldo coil, deneuve. he eats people alive and then takes their names for himself like some kind of fucked up fae or trickster god, creating new masks and personas to hide behind from the remains of the people he's devoured. i have to wonder if he would've used the title of KIRA for himself had he won-- i can hardly imagine what kind of power such a title could hold if held in his hands. of course, he could've just used the defeat of KIRA as a way to build up the L title even further, offering up the body of a dead god like perseus showing off the head of medusa. but L is so emotionally attached to the kira case, i struggle to see him allowing it to fade from existence so thoroughly as near does, even if it is only kept close on a private level...

this is part of why i think it genuinely makes a lot of sense that L's ultimate win state would include capturing light to some degree. even if the memory of KIRA somehow manages to fully disappear from the public consciousness, there is no fucking way L is letting light yagami out of his grasp. honestly, the moment that L truly loses this game is not when he starts investigating misa while still under rem's watch, not when light gets back his memories, not even when he dies, but the moment when he allows light to be freed from the handcuffs. the moment when he allows the other members of the task force to turn off the cameras and keep him from watching light and misa talk in the lobby. the moment when he gives up, lets light yagami go outside of L's personal sphere of control, is the moment when L starts the clock ticking down to the end of his own life.

this is one of the key ways in which i see light as a true equal and parallel to L, as after L's death he, intentionally or no, continues the same tradition and takes L's title for himself, twisting the two sides together into the L-KIRA amalgamation. only, the L title functions a little bit differently than every other persona or title that we see in the series-- because L's true name is L. that's all that he is. on a literal, legal, and emotional level, i don't think that L is anything more than L. he is the world's greatest detective, he's an incredible, weirdo super genius, but he does not afford himself much more than that, barely allows himself personhood or humanity outside of his work. light was the one to ultimately defeat L because he did not just put a stain on his character (as BB attempted), did not just kill him, but stole his very identity and took it for himself.

one of the biggest contradictions of L's character that i think you must accept should you attempt to portray him accurately is that he is both deeply detached from humanity while also having all of his work and effort and life be focused around saving it. it's one of the ways in which he is an exact opposite to light-- where light relies on humanity for external validation, to be Seen, while also looking down on it as dumb and immoral and spineless, L is so separated from it that he barely exists as a person, all the while dedicating almost every action he takes to helping it. remember: for all the emotional turmoil that wammy's house and the legacy of L may put on the kids living there, ultimately it's entire existence is nothing more than L's logical solution to his potential demise. if he dies, the world goes down with him, all of the cases that are yet to happen and he is yet to solve being left in the air. he has the foresight to set up a fail safe, but not to consider the emotional implications of what being that fail safe might feel like, how high the price of your own humanity is if you are not already alienated from it, the inability to have your own name on your gravestone-- though perhaps some of the blame also falls on watari's shoulders in this case, philanthropic old bastard that he is.

imo, playing his game really got it right in presenting L and light as one and the same, synonyms on either side of the mirror. in every action they take they are both so selfishly selfless, playing the game for themselves and their own pleasure but plastering the needs and will of humanity on top of it. L isn't invested in saving humanity for the sake of humanity-- he just likes the thrill of having the stakes raised so high. hard to shit on ryuk for wanting entertainment when the humans he finds are just the same as him.

[velociheroviridi]

I'm not fixated on Danny Phantom right now, what could you possibly be talking about?

After like 6 years of having the software, DP is the motivation I needed to finally understood the youtube tutorials on how to animate in csp I guess, so here's my first ever little animation! I know it's super rough but now that I actually know what I'm doing, I'll probably try again when it's not past midnight

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of the Heart (Chapter 16) Human!Alastor x Married!Reader

Chapter Trigger Warnings: infidelity

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Alastor led you by your hand confidently through a sea of boxes and dim lights, the music growing louder as you went. Your eyes were trained on him, watching the halo of light reflect off his hair as he passed underneath light after light. If you had spared a moment to look around, you wouldn’t have seen much in the deep shadows. 

Voices and chatter joined the warm horns and strings, growing louder with each step you took. Alastor was eagerly pulling you along toward the sounds brought life to the space deeper in the building. At last, your eager partner stopped in front of a door. Just beyond it was a sea of noise. 

Your heart pounded at the prospect of people, all local to you, and out for a night on the town hidden in a watering hole. Each and every one of those people could very well could know you. 

They could know your husband. They could tell. 

Alastor had asked that you trust him. 

It took everything in you to fight against every part of your body that wanted you to cringe away in fear as he reached out for the door. Long fingers wrapped around the knob as his hand around yours gave a reassuring squeeze. 

“It’s alright,” He spoke softly, as if trying not to scare a frightened prey animal.

A heartbeat passed and then the knob was turning with an ever so slight squeak. The door opened easily and Alastor pulled you through. 

You stood at his side, faced with a room that was nothing like what you had expected. The noise was louder now, and it sounded like you should be standing on the outskirts of the party. Instead, you were in a room. No, that wasn’t exactly right, you realized as you looked around. 

Boxes towered along the wall, in places stacked many high. The floor wasn’t nearly as well kept as you expected. Wax and polish extended only a few short feet into this small room, giving way to much more rustic and worn floors. Off to the side, a small table sat with a candle and glasses, waiting for the guests of the evening. 

With a start, you realized it was like a cubby off the main lounge that was hidden away by a curtain. Private and yet as close to a part of the party as you could ever hope to be while with Alastor.

The band’s music was clear, passing through the curtain with ease, along with the buzz of people, but you couldn’t see anyone. They couldn’t see you. Light filtered in from above and below the curtain, supplementing the naked overhead light, casting shadows about the room along with the warm light.

Alastor pulled you deeper into the room, closer to the table that recaptured your attention. A simple white table cloth was spread over the surface and atop it sat a vase with a red candle inside, flame flickering ever so softly. Glasses sat on the table with a tray of fruits, cheeses, spreads, crackers, and small bits of bread on it. 

There was a short woman who looked familiar next to the table, adding slices of smoked meat to the tray. Upon registering her and her sparkling dress, you darted your eyes to Alastor. You wanted to step closer to him, to seek shelter in him from this stranger but that would only make it look more like what you feared was going on. Instead, you stepped behind him, hoping to at least not be recognized. 

“About time you two get here,” the woman said, turning and putting her hands on her hips. 

Alastor knew the woman, you realized as his arm wrapped around your waist, far more familiar of a touch than what one would expect from a simple friend. His arm prevented any real attempts to hide, leaving you with little choice but to look to him for guidance. 

Alastor rolled his eyes at the woman, but the fondness in his face as he looked at her told you his show was more show than fact. He introduced you to the woman standing at the table, not bothering to drop his hand from your waist while he did so. “And this is my dear friend, Mimzy, the proprietress of this lovely establishment.” 

“Lovely to meet you,” you said as the woman looked between you and Alastor, her blonde eyebrow quirked high. Her face moved through emotions quickly, as if she was trying to piece together a puzzle in her head. 

“Mimzy was kind enough to loan us use of a private room so we could get out on the town without worrying about pesky eyes and their flapping tongues.” Alastor offered, hand finally dropping from your waist and giving you a short-lived moment to breathe before he took your hand in his again. 

“Well,” Mimzy said, clearing her throat. “I’ll leave you two to it.” Mimzy looked hard at where your hand joined his, raised her eyebrow somehow higher still. She said nothing about what she was seeing. Instead, she simply turned, shaking her head before giving Alastor one last look over her shoulder. “You owe me, Al- I got other shit to do then setting up your little night out.” 

“If I remember correctly,” Alastor’s smile was wide, eyes seeming to sparkle as you stood, taking in the sight of Alastor with a friend. She was a female friend, a rarity for men to have. It was surreal seeing how he was with friends, a side of him you had never seen, being that you and he had built this friendship- yes, it was just friendship, you told yourself, in secret. “I cleared out the room while you sat on the counter painting your nails.” 

It hurt. You didn’t know why it hurt, but it did. There was no reason for you to believe he was alone with her, but your heart hurt like there was. Was what you and Alastor were doing really nothing special? 

Perhaps he held Mimzy’s hand in his the same way he was holding yours? Was it all in your head? Maybe it was all alright? Maybe this was just how Alastor was, crossing social boundaries without a care for the wreckage he could leave in his path?

Was this what jealousy felt like? 

“Now missy,” Mimzy spared you a look from where she stood, hand on the curtain. “If this ol boy gives you any trouble, you come to Mimzy and I’ll straighten him right out. I don’t give a hoot what your situation is, that man right there better treat you right.” 

Perhaps what you had with Alastor was different?

She didn’t give you a chance to say anything, not that you knew what you’d say to her, before she stepped into the busy lounge with a flutter of the curtain. 

“My apologizes for her,” Alastor said, tugging you toward the table. “She’s always had a flair for dramatics.” 

“Oh, so women are dramatic now?” You teased, trying to get your bearings as Alastor stood behind a chair. He scooted it out and motioned for you to sit. 

“Oh, not women-” Alastor laughed as you settled into the seat. He continued speaking as he scooted you up to the table. “Just that one.” 

Only once he had you settled at the table did he take his own seat. Candle light danced over his face, warming his smile even more. It felt right, sitting here with him as he poured glasses of wine. Though you tried to relax, you couldn’t help the way your eyes scanned the curtain, looking for some rip that would reveal you to those on the other side. 

“You can relax,” Alastor’s soft smile captured your attention. “There are no tables near the curtain and the dancefloor isn’t near it either. The most someone ever does is brush it with their shoulder.” 

“Okay,” you tried to force yourself to do as he said. It wasn’t easy but as Alastor kept your attention on him, drawing you into a conversation about his work, your days and each of your childhood, you found you relaxed. 

Time passed easily, floating away on a sea of warm conversation and wine shared between the two of you, the first glass being replaced with a second. You felt good, really good, for perhaps the first time in your life. Alastor was a kind soul, and you marveled as he held his hand out for you, asking you to dance. He had never been harsh with you, never raising his voice or his hand to you. 

“Shall we dance?” Alastor asked, raising from his chair and holding his hand out to you as he reached your side. 

“I’m not terribly good,” you tried to wave off the idea. It wasn’t appropriate to dance with a man that wasn’t your husband when your husband wasn’t even present to supervise it. Did that matter, though? As you thought about it for a moment, you decided it didn’t. You were already crossing so many of society’s boundaries in your time with Alastor.

“I’m sure you’re more than adequate,” Alastor challenged as you surrendered your hand to his. A soft tug had you rising from your chair and stepping into the open space. There were marks all along the floor from where crates had sat for long periods of time. Your heart warmed, remembering how Alastor had moved things about the space, making it safe for your time with him. 

You tripped over your feet as Alastor pulled you around the floor, quick steps and eager encouragement driving away any shame that attempted to set up camp in your mind. The wine had you smiling, laughing lightly as you all but fell into Alastor’s arms as your legs tangled together. He caught you easily, finding his own joy in your clumsy steps and glee. 

Though he said he was only alright himself, it took only a few short minutes for you to realize he was far better than just alright. He skillfully moved you through space, leading you through dances you could only somewhat perform and compensating for your lack of grace or elegance with his own moves. 

Every time he placed his hands on you, he was mindful of your still aching ribs. You’d be sore later. Healing injuries would surely be aggravated but the joy of dancing with him was worth every flair of discomfort and twinge of pain in the moment. 

After a few glasses of wine, you struggled to care at all as you tripped over your own feet, laughter spilling freely from your lips as he held you upright, spinning you around and lifting you into the air. Your heart pounded in your chest from all the activity, but you were having the time of your life. Your healing ribs were little more than an annoyance, dulled by the wine shared between you.

“Another glass, darling?” Alastor asked as the music lulled between songs. 

“Please?” You answered before thinking twice, “If that’s alright, I mean.” 

“I’d not offer if it wasn’t,” Alastor said, as he split the last of the wine between the two glasses. 

“Hey, Baby!” a voice you knew shouted over the music, causing your glass to begin to slip from your fingers. Reality and pain came crashing down around you. The shock of hearing his voice in your safe little bubble felt like a blow directly to your still healing ribs. The illusion of warmth and reckless love shattered into a million little shards, leaving you once again standing in a dusty side room of a speakeasy. 

“Laurence?” You whisper as Alastor took the glass from your trembling hands before you had a chance to drop it. The sound of shattering glass and running wine surely could give away their hiding place, though he was certain it wouldn’t be noticed over the sound of the band. 

“Laurence, Doll!” Mimzy’s voice was high, carrying through the space. “I wasn’t expectin ya tonight.” 

Alastor’s hands came to rest on your arms as you looked wide eyed at the curtain, breath locked in your chest. 

“I finished early, thought I’d bring you this weekend’s rum a bit early since I was going to be stopping by, anyway.” Laurence’s voice got closer the more he talked. You needed to run, you needed to get out of here, but your feet felt cemented in place. 

“He said he’d be out of town until tomorrow,” you whisper, tears gathering in your eyes as you rip your eyes from the curtain to Alastor. He ran his hands up and down your arms, trying to keep your attention on him as your eyes flickered from him to the curtain and back. “We need to leave. I need to leave-” 

“Breathe.” Alastor whispered, trying to keep your attention on him. It wouldn’t do for you to run off, cause a scene. 

“Want the crates in the side room like usual?” Laurence was right on the other side of the curtain now. You could see his feet, just beyond the fall of the cloth. 

“There’s a cubby just under those boards,” Mimzy’s voice was close now too. You could see her feet near Laurence’s. 

“Alastor, what’s going on?” You whispered, stepping away from him as best you could as he maintained contact with you. 

“Shh,” Alastor ran his hands up your arms and cupped your cheek in both his as he stepped forward, closing the growing distance between the two of you, “I’ve got you. Mimzy’s got you. Trust us.” 

You nod, but he waits. 

“Okay,” you whisper finally, nodding again. 

Alastor leads you deeper into the room, blowing out the candle as he passes by. Each step was slow, careful and slightly shuffled to avoid his shoes clicking against the wooden floor. You mimicked him, walking on your toes to keep the heels of your shoes from clicking with your steps.

“Step up,” he held your hands in his as you climbed up on the stack of boxes, keeping you steady.

“Larry!” A woman’s shoes joined the pairs in front of the curtain. “All work and no play will make you a dull boy indeed.” 

Who was that? You glanced at the curtain, trying to look through the fabric that kept you out of sight but also prevented you from being able to see what happened beyond it. 

“Don’t worry, Love,” Laurence said as you watched his hands dipping in and out of view as he put bottles in under floorboards. If he leaned any more into the hole, would he be able to see you? “Just gotta unload this, and then I’m all yours all night long.” 

Wide eyes watched what little you could see under the curtain as you stood, hands clasped against your mouth to ensure your breathing was quiet enough, as if there was a risk of Laurence hearing it. 

The world felt like it spun around you. Until Alastor’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, you hadn’t realized you were swaying on your feet. It was his secure hold on you that kept you safe from the risk of falling to the ground. 

“You’re okay,” He whispered into the side of your head as he pulled you closer to his side. “I’ve got you.” 

“What’s going on?” You turned into him, seeking comfort from the only friend you had. You knew better, but with the fear and the wine, your body acted regardless of that fact. You let him hold you as you looked up at his eyes, realizing only then that he had at some point flipped the switch off, sending the little enclave into darkness lit only by the light filtering in from around the curtain. 

“Do you really want to know?” Alastor asked softly as Mimzy bantered with Laurence and the woman outside the curtain. You nodded, hands balling against his chest as you held onto his vest for some sort of stability. If it was physical or mental stability, you were seeking from him, you didn’t know. 

“Laurence runs hootch for Mimzy’s supplier. He got busted a few weeks ago and lost a load. That’s why he needed the loan- he had to cover the losses for his boss.” 

“Are you involved in it, too?” You whispered, looking up at him from the shelter you had taken in his arms. 

“Not typically.” Alastor shrugged. “I brew some, mostly as a hobby. I avoid running hootch unless Mimzy needs a favor. If I got caught, I’d get a lot more than a fine.” 

“Larry, Baby, ain’t you going to pay attention to me?” The woman’s voice was high and pouty. You should have felt some sort of way about some other woman calling your husband “Larry” and “baby” but more than anything you were confused. 

He hated to be called Larry. He hated pet names altogether. He was supposed to be out of town. 

“Don’t worry baby,” Laurence stood after replacing the boards, “I don’t gotta be home till tomorrow night.” 

“Oh, yeah?” The woman giggled.

“I’ll give you so much attention you’ll be screaming my name.” Laurence’s feet moved closer to the woman’s. Was he holding her, brazenly, out in the public as if he wasn’t a married man? “All. Night. Long.” 

You were a fool. He was making you his fool. You had done your wifely duties. He had use of your body. You made him meals, washed his clothes. You loved him, or at least, you thought you did. What did he give you in return? Not even loyalty to the vow you had made together before God and your families?

“I’m sorry,” Alastor whispered, watching the emotions play across your face. You did not love your husband, he knew that, but that did nothing to prevent the knife of betrayal from sinking into your heart. “It appears your husband is having an affair.” 

“It’s not fair,” you whispered as Laurence’s feet danced with the woman’s feet outside the curtain, steps taking their bodies closer than you had allowed Alastor to pull you until this moment. 

“What isn’t?” Alastor asked, one hand resting on the small of your back and the other up between your shoulders. He held you close, but not against him. Even now, he kept a few inches of space between your bodies. 

“That he can just have an affair out in the open and what? Nothing happens to him? If anyone notices, they’ll blame me for it. But…” 

“But?” Alastor’s heart beat faster in his chest. Why? He wasn’t sure. The rush he had only experienced when closing in on a hurt coursed through his veins as he looked down at you, studying every move you made. 

That must have been it. This game he was playing with you was just another hunt, was it not? He was closing in on his prey. That was it. That had to be it. 

Your hands moved against his chest as you slipped your ring free from your finger, wrapping the simple jeweled band in your hand. “If I’m found to be having an affair, no matter how discrete I keep it, I’m demonized just the same.”

“We live in a world of double standards,” Alastor murmured. “It’s a good thing you’re not having an affair.” 

“What if I wanted to?” You ask, looking up at him again, “What if I wanted this thing we’re dancing around to be real?”

You lean into him, standing on your tiptoes as you brace yourself on his chest. Eyes not daring to leave his face, flickering between his warm eyes and the soft smile on his lips. 

Never had you felt like this. Was it the wine? No, even when Laurence had liquored you up, you never longed for the feeling of his lips against yours. You couldn’t remember a time where you longed for the feeling of someone’s lips against yours. 

Laurence had been your first kiss. He was your first everything, and that made your heart pound even harder in your chest as his too brash laugh sounded behind the curtains. You probably hadn’t been your husband’s first anything, other than wife. You clearly were not his last either. 

Laurence could have his affair, your wine addled mind decided. He could have his dangerous side business and his money troubles. That was fine as long as you got to feel Alastor’s arms wrapped around you and discover how it feels to kiss someone you wanted to kiss. 

“No,” Alastor whispered, finger coming to rest against your lips as you moved to close the distance. 

“I’m sorry.” You jerked back, stumbling. Alastor held safe, steading you with an arm around your waist. “I- I misread the-”

“You didn’t,” Alastor whispered. “I simply do not wish for you to do something you may come to regret under the influence of wine and a broken heart.”

“I won’t.” You promise, “I’ve been thinking about this a long time,” you lie. 

Alastor’s hand returns to your face, fingers curling under your chin as he rubs his thumb across your lower lip, a smile on his face. “You have so much more to lose in this than I do,” his voice was a soft whisper, hard to hear over the sound of the band and the woman outside the curtain fawning over your husband, “I’m not rejecting you. Mother simply raised me to not kiss a woman the first time when we both been hitting the sauce.”

“Alastor,” you whisper, lips moving against his thumb as tears fell from your eyes. “It’s not fair.” 

“What isn’t?” He asked as he let his hands trail down your arms as he stepped off the crate. Hands wrapped around your waist as he easily lifted you off the crate, settling your feet on the ground slowly, ensuring your heels didn’t click against the floor. Reaching up, his always soft touch wiped away the tears that seemed to run down your face in a constant stream. 

“He gets to have whatever he wants, but I finally want someone and I can’t,”

“No one is saying you can’t, my dear.” Alastor rested his forehead against yours for a moment, knowing his words were not true. Everyone was saying you couldn’t, but he would only say you couldn’t right now. It was better for him, he told himself, that your heart yearns for him a little longer. In the back of his head, he heard his mother’s voice telling him not to lie to her. How strange, considering he wasn’t. “Just that our first kiss will not be in this situation.” 

“Is it alright?” You ask, knowing the answer was ‘no’. Nothing would be alright again. You’d shown Alastor too much. You’d seen too much. There was no going back from what you knew tonight. 

“It will be,” Alastor said as he reached out, entwining his fingers in yours as he slowly pulled you toward the door leading deeper into the back room. “I promise you, it will be alright.” 

You wanted to believe him. 

Next?

[creatingblackcharacters]

I have a second submission for favourite Black characters!

Barbie "Brooklyn" Roberts!

So back in 2021, Mattel introduced a second Barbie Roberts to the animated universe as a main character - a Black Barbie! She and the white Barbie share the same name and end up roommates together in the first movie they share. To differentiate each other, they take on nicknames of where they are from, white Barbie is "Malibu" and Black Barbie gets "Brooklyn" (I'm gonna call Brooklyn "Barbie" and white Barbie, "white Barbie").

Barbie is a badass young woman. She's a go-getter who loves to schedule things, do as much as possible, and plan for every future she wants to go for. She loves working on her community, playing guitar, writing music, doing ballet, singing, hanging out with her friends, and trying to become a rockstar.

Barbie is an incredibly kind soul, and while she often jumps to conclusions, she's very capable of taking a breath, realizing she was wrong, and correcting her mistake. She's not afraid to apologize, but she's also not afraid to take up space and demand what she deserves. Barbie is part of tons of clubs and initiatives and is always trying to make her school and community a better place. She's organized a trash clean-up, a beach clean-up (I think), and tons of different events at her school. She also makes friends wherever she goes.

And she's an amazing problem solver. I wish I had half of her skills at problem solving.

She and white Barbie make up The Barbies, a pop duo. The two started out as both rivals and besties, and while they were competitive it was always to lift one another up, not tear each other down.

Barbie has an incredible singing voice, courtesy of Tatianna Varria, and I love her dance moves, her clear passion in her voice, and her love for finding outfits for their shows.

In the Mermaid Power movie, both Barbies and white Barbie's sisters get to become mermaids and gain magical powers! Barbie ends up with fire powers and she ends up using the power of music and bad puns to convince an angry teal mermaid to become her friend instead of her enemy.

She is genuinely my favourite character in the entire Barbie universe and I love absolutely everything about her. She got me back into the universe way after I left the target audience and I could watch her all day.

Brooklyn and Malibu is wild lmao but I can see doing that. And I know that's right 😤 she's BARBIE! So often everything we do gets called "Black ___" (and that's the nice, slur free approach) as if we can't just be the character. No one calls all the white people cosplaying Naruto "white Naruto". So... Racism!

Omg I've organized trash clean ups and have good problem solving skills too 🥺🥺 Barbie! This sounds so magical and I'm so happy. I didn't know they were doing this with Barbie 😭😭😭 I might have to watch a couple animated movies again. I used to love the movies as a kid, though admittedly I was more a Bratz kid.

[goshdangronpa]

Where to begin in sharing my thoughts on Class of '09: The Flip Side ...

Well, how about the positives? Everything I've seen is so negative, and trust me, I have thoughts. But I enjoyed quite a lot of it, and I wanna do my part to balance out the discourse. So, here's a list.

Jecka makes for an interesting protagonist compared to Nicole. She's far more emotional - I swear, she breaks down crying in every route, which is genuinely disconcerting. She's also way less savvy. I'm not fond of how overwhelmingly negative these endings are (more on that in another post), but it at least makes sense. Nicole gets the upper hand in several endings from the previous two games because she's usually cunning enough to avoid potential problems, manipulate her way out of them, and/or get people in serious trouble. Jecka may be a bit of a bitch (and I love her for it!), but as she says in one ending, she kinda needs Nicole. Putting her in the protag role isn't just subbing her in for Nicole. Flip Side explores how things would go for someone with slightly more conscience and way less guile.

Jecka's so goddamn gay, oh my god. Wanting to look for a "goth work girlfriend" at Hot Topic. "I can afford holes, Imma buy me some hoes!" Kissing Ari! She says she only did the latter for attention, but girl ... girl. Someday she'll ask someone "Doesn't every girl think about sleeping with their gal pals?" and be shocked when that someone says no. (Tbh when I heard that one route would explore a previous game's route from Jecka's perspective, and when I saw the CG of the jeckari kiss on Tumblr, I created an entire plotline in my head that didn't come to fruition. Pity - it'd at least make for a good fanfic.)

"It's been seven seconds." The scenes based on this bit are some of the funniest in the whole series ("Why don't you magically gather some friends?"). Like something straight out of South Park. If the Co09 anime Kickstarter had reached the stretch goal of a full 25-minute episode, would this have been the script? I've heard people say that Flip Side doesn't feel like Class of '09, or that the dialogue isn't as good in this one, but this part, among others, works for me. "Can anyone do the math?" "... I thought this was health."

I'm a lifelong FYE patron who will drive 40-odd minutes to visit the only remaining store in my entire region. So for me especially, the entire FYE storyline was a ride. It reminded me of American Dad, where every episode turns something mundane into an elaborate conspiracy or wild adventure into its secret underbelly. It's awesome from beginning to ... well, not the end, but it's mostly awesome. And we get to hang out with Kelly! That's neat!

This is apparently my hottest take: the "foot whore" routes are not that bad. For starters, they're not presented in a way that fetishizes Jecka herself. You never see her feet, or see what she does with them. Yall can still find the suggestion of it gross if you want, but comparisons to Quentin Tarantino seem unwarranted! More importantly, the foot services enable the writers to explore topics of sex work while keeping the game light on actual sexual activity. It's rare to see such subject matter broached in a thing like this, yet we get to see how circumstances can pull desperate people into selling their bodies, and how swiftly and easily they can have their boundaries violated and their safety compromised by the customers they depend on. The increasing disruption of normal conversations by the text notifications of Jeffery's donations is a genuinely despairing plot device. Both endings are troubling for different reasons (again, that's for another post), but the game's got something to say in a way that, to me, is fairly mature yet distinctly Class of '09. (Credit to my partner for this observation, I'm so grateful I could play this with them.)

... Uh ... the music sting from the opening monologue bumps ... It sounds more Class of '17 than Class of '09, but it's still cool ...

Okay so I can't think of more, at least not right now. (EDIT: How did I forget the Hatman? That was cute!) Flip Side may be the most flawed game in the series, but it's still pretty good. At the very least, I don't think it's the shitshow other people are making it out to be ... though there is a smell. I'll go deeper on the negatives in other posts.

[briarandhissecretgarden]

A Minecraft Movie Trailer Dive

Alright!! I have a hard time talking about things in a more real? manner like this but I feel like it's important to be honest and share thoughts.

So the Minecraft movie trailer is a trailer that exists and it's incredibly upsetting to say the least. i had always had hopes of it being entirely animated and be a sort fo film version of Minecraft: Story Mode but it's clearly not that at all. It's a shame too, it's incredibly disappointing to know it's live action as I am a HUGE advocate for animated movies and blockbusters and such. I think Minecraft is a game that is so fantastical and developed and normalized within it's own plane of existence that trying to translate it as anything other than an animated movie fundamentally goes against what the game is supposed to be.

Minecraft is creativity incarnate. It is a canvas for you to do quite literally anything with. And i think turning it into a pathetic cash grab live action movie is about as hard away as you can get from it's core values. You lazily slap real people to into the game to mock and laugh at and disrupt the flow of it's own universe. Treating this game as if it is nothing but a child' plaything despite the fact that people of any age can play it and find joy and excitement. I think the jokes and the overall childish view of the game is disgusting I think it belittles it, I think Minecraft as a whole, encourages all ages and helps develop personal understanding of the world around us and our own ideals. Maybe we'd like to build a large house, go on, here are hundreds of blocks to choose from! Loads of colors, be free!!! Perhaps you'd like to calm down and play with friends or even challenge yourselves, go on with multiplayer! There's servers and achievements!!! There's plenty of things to do. And I think one of the most important things is that, none of this is wrong or weird. None of this is an incorrect way of playing, nothing you do is bad. This isn't supposed to be humbling this isn't supposed to be stressful or something to laugh at. Your desires and plans are valid.

Perhaps as an autistic individual myself, I find that so comforting. I understand it's just a movie, but it's a movie that fundamentally gets everything wrong about this lovely game. I don't understand how these trailers and jokes and plot points are treated as if it's okay to be bad if it's for children. It's saddening.

Either way, moving onto a different subject that I have much more knowledge about and care too much of, the Piglins.

This trailer shows off that Piglins are meant to be the main antagonists, as well as the The Seer having a role in the plot. I have many problems with this, and I will be discussing this through the lens of my own experiences, especially as it comes to my race. (I am latino for those who don't know)

First things first, no, the Piglins aren't evil by any means. I know a lot of media has a very black and white view of them but honestly, take a moment to think about this.

Piglins are minding their business, having fun, living their lives, when a bunch of explorers come barging into their home, exploiting them for their willingness to barter, stealing their valuables right from their houses, and on top of that, being killed and hurt because they dare fight back and attempt to protect one another.

To me, it's incredibly disheartening to see Piglins being portrayed as some kind of aggressors, savages and barbaric monsters all because they want to protect their way of life. I don't understand how emotionless people seem to act toward them. They aren't even physically accurate to the game models. They wear clothes, they use tools, they talk amongst themselves. It's very disgusting to see how this group that is CLEARLY INTELLIGENT BTW (they make music, tools, clothes, armor, buildings, homes and have a complex social system) being drawn and shown in less clothes, more violent tendencies, a more destroyed home and life, even showing violence among themselves to portray them as anything other than the interesting and complex species they are.

I'm just tired of the racist undertones that most Piglin plots seem to have. I find it insulting to them, i find it concerning regarding the language used. 'barbaric' 'crude' 'savage'

Just makes me angry.

[zaddyazula]

NEVER MESS WITH MY BOY TANJIRO AGAIN

[alieneyedcow]

He fits right in

[peanutseagle]

guys i think they might be dating

[sadmages]

Sometimes I remember i went to school to be an animator and i have the power to make my ocs dance and gaze lovingly into each other's eyes

[lululeighsworld]

it was literally their moment and they just let us watch

(if you need me i'll be marinating in this for the foreseeable future)

[elvisqueso]

Pocahontas (1995)

[vynnyal]

Turns out Sunlit Trail isn't quite done just yet, so after all that they just send you to a dead end 😂

[keywhole]

so hows everyone feeling about love winning in nevada

[cringefailvox]

STOP. OW. the way his tail starts lashing nervously as he tries to justify why he needs to keep seeing stolas, the way his expression brightens with desperation and then wilts again when stolas reaches for him—I'M UNWELL.