#and then made him play one of the most boring characters in existence

[probablygayattorneys]

Yes, hello, 911? I’d like to report shots fired by @vaptainhammer

[synthville]

so what im getting is that it was absolutely unnecessary to isolate raffi on gotham city in order for her story to go on.

a story that’s so halfhearted that five episodes in—halfway to the end. btw—her motivation is yet to be explained (why go back to this sector of intelligence work when teaching seemed to be fulfilling? was she made to do this?? did she volunteer because her son now lives on this planet now apparently?? was losing elnor cris and possibly seven so painful that burying herself in work seemed like a better option??? who knows! not me!!) and it’s definitely a retreat character-wise but the fact that they still haven’t laid the groundwork to make this stick is kind of amazing lol. it’s the way they’re not even pretending to give a fuck about her or any of the other women characters for me—they said you’re a womb or a subordinate ladies pick one and shut the hell up LMAO?

the fact that the ‘real plot’ is happening on that other ship while everything raffi does is basically an afterthought with backstory slipped in between the cracks like aged caulk is so disheartening and pathetic. star trek picard make an effort maybe. she’s a polarizing character that’s been stuck in impossible situations, weighed down with retractions and stereotypes (they thread the line but HM) because the narrative continually refuses to meaningfully engage with her and a lot of fans of the show wont examine their own biases to see why they have such a viscerally negative reaction to a complicated black woman character that’s good at what she does, knows it and refuses to kneel at the foot of their hero’s :)

and if it wasn’t for ms hurd elevating this performance with sheer will, massive talent and the whip of that (sexy) ponytail? shit would be so much worse. but it’s still bad! because instead of giving her a nuanced, thoughtful send off she’s once again being made to suffer for the nth time. because why? oh right so wise man worf can guide her to the light lol give me a fuckin break.

and it’s no accident that if you cut raffi out (which they literally did in ep4 miss musiker you WILL be avenged) the story could more or less proceed as usual. that’s by design.

because legacy characters or not, im simply not buying that the main white cast members (plus two interlopers idgaf about those new guys and they’re doing nothing to make me care either. pick a random channel and their stories are being told right now live and in color like don’t piss me off) just so happen to be on the ship with the lead yet the sole woc is sent away on some underbaked adventure because ‘reasons?’ please. this season literally could not be more transparent about the audience they’re catering to and who/whose stories are of importance and consideration.

and i knew this would probably happen once the premise for s3 was revealed but i still can’t get over how obvious it is that there really was no plan for raffi and that she only happened to bypass the cull of the la sirena crew because she was romantically linked with seven at the time. which is baffling considering how things are (not) going between them (#theyareMARRIEDletthemTALKandKISSandREST)

and it’s not just them like everything about this season is quite literally happening just because. every slightly interesting or fresh development (and character it’s true) from the previous seasons has been dismissed or diminished and for what? secret sons and man pain? ew lmao. no suspense no lingering threads just excessive shots of ships, an aggressive insistence on biological families and rampant, shameless references to past glory. a mess.

[biteyoubiteme]

brrr

seungmin x fem!reader

⊹ ₊ ݁ . ❅ synopsis: friends with benefits either ends in love or indifference. ⸝⸝⸝ warning: fwb, reader and seungmin are toxic/avoidant/mean, not too much aftercare at all, mentions of menstruation, period pain, slight spit kink, mentions of no prep, no protection, creampie(s), oral (f!rec), lots of kissing, minho side character, I probably did forget some this time im so sorry

⊹ ₊ ݁ . ❅ wc: 13.5k ❅ . ݁ ₊ ⊹

❅ ⸝⸝⸝ now playing: brrr- kim petras an: this was not my best work pls forgive me ;-; ive had this idea since august last year and im glad I could get it down- this is not proofread im so sorry for any mistakes that you come acorss :p

[m.list]

The two of you weren't friends; you didn’t even share any acquaintances, classes, or hobbies. It was better for the both of you that no one knew the other existed; there was no need to make things messy with questions. It was a one-night stand that turned into two. Six months later, the two of you were still inviting each other over for no-strings-attached sex. 

You remember that second night when Seungmin rolled out of bed already halfway to putting his jeans back on when you asked, “Are you leaving?” The look he threw over his shoulder was cruel to anyone else, the one that said he would kick a girl while she was down in the dumps for him, put an end to any relationship with complete certainty, and never look back.

“I don’t want to sit and cuddle, I told you that already. I don’t do relationships,” 

“I wasn't asking to cuddle you idiot, I wanted to make sure you would lock the door on your way out,” you were sitting up in bed the sheet halfway up your body, “I need to shower and I don’t care enough to walk you out again,” 

Seungmin had huffed a laugh tugging his shirt on, “You didn’t walk me out last time,” he looked down at his phone flipping through his calendar, “Does Thursday at three work?” 

“Are you really trying to schedule sex like we’re a forty-year-old married couple?” 

“Yes, does three work?” he repeats himself looking bored. 

“I have a chem lab then, I'll be here at seven,” 

“Okay, I'll just meet you here,” 

And if you didn’t see Seungmin all week you would be sure to find him standing at your door Thursday at seven, hands in the pockets of his jeans leaning against the door frame waiting as you unlocked your door. Your standing dick appointment was penned into your schedule along with any other time one of you felt an itch. It wasn't past either of you to text randomly in the middle of the night a quick you up? 

In minutes Seungmin would be in your bed, on your couch, over the countertop, or even right at the front door. Neither of you really wasted time with kissing or prep, most of the time Seungmin’s spit was the most lube to help with the stretch of taking him so fast after he came in, it was a month in when he brought over a bottle of lube with him to keep in your nightstand. “look what I got you”

One of the nicer things he had done besides make you cum but you only ever used it if you made it to the bed. The only times he had his mouth on you was to keep his moans down after a noise complaint from your neighbors. Every sound pressed right against your pulse. 

Seungmin often came over when he was angry, always upset about one thing or another. Pressing your face into the mattress as he pounded into you, complaining about his classes, his roommates, and someone getting his coffee order wrong. Any slight towards him sent him right to your door, his perfect crutch to getting his anger out. It didn’t matter much to you either way as long as you had at least one or two orgasms by the time he left you were fine to be used without mercy. 

It was easy to ignore him, push everything away until he was there in front of you, leaning on the door frame already hard just knowing you would pull it open. But if you weren't in the perimeter of your apartment neither of you even looked at the other besides a sideways glance you would share with any stranger you walk past. 

It's how you could stand in the same line for coffee, a few feet away chatting with your friends while he picked up his order. Just a boy with a scowl on his face as he sipped from the still steaming up. You didn't even look at him as he brought his cup back up, cutting your friend in line just to complain. 

“He's always so rude,” she mutters as soon as Seungmin has gone, rushing out without a blink your way, taking his newly redone cup of coffee with him. “He was arguing with our professor the other week about the context of some passage. Went on and on and it was so awkward because he was kinda right but neither of them would drop it,” 

Seungmin had come over that day, the door slamming behind him when he finally came in, no questions as he pushed you down onto your bed, not even stopping to help pull down your shorts. “Stupid fucking prick, doesn't even know how to properly teach a class he's paid to teach-”  

But you just shrug now, arms crossed holding your coat like a blanket you could throw over your lies. You didn't care what Seungmin got up to when you weren't around, but it made sense that he was angry even outside the walls of your apartment. How he got through his fits before you wasn't your concern but you're sure he did have some other form of release. And now you knew he would be right back in your bed when you got home. Because it didn't matter how small the inconvenience was. 

And you were right, the second you turned the corner you could see his stupidly big black car sitting outside in the parking spot with your apartment number on it, unused when you spent most of your time biking or walking the short distance to campus. 

“It's fucking freezing outside,” was the only thing he said as he watched you roll your bike into its spot next to the entryway, your keys jingling as you pulled them from your coat pocket, twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open. 

“Is it the cold weather of the bad coffee that has you back here,” you ask, your smirk only making him roll his eyes. He lets you get out of your outerwear, watches you slowly unzip, the sight less tantalizing and more annoying. He knew you liked to play with him, especially when you witnessed the problem for which he came over in the first place. 

“Shut up,” he walked right past you to your bedroom, pushing open the door to see your half-made bed. He moved around like he knew where everything was placed and located. You're sure that if you asked him to do the laundry he would know where to fold and put away your clothes, even where to put the basket and fabric softener when done. 

You follow, shimmying out of your jeans before he's on you, pushing you against the wall and pulling your panties to the side. His fingers are cold and he runs them through your folds, your body jolting forward until your face and chest are the only thing keeping you up. “Warning next time?” but if he's going to warn you it's the first drag of his tip from your clit to your entrance right before he slams himself in. hands digging into your hips and he curses, sinking in all the way so that there is no room for you to get away, no way for your to fuck back onto him. 

“No,” he grunts, pulling out only an inch before slamming back in, picking up a steady pace that has you biting your lip, hands sliding down the wall searching for purchase as he holds you in place. You lean forward so that your shoulder can keep you up, hand snaking down to rub at your clit because you know he won't do it right now when he's so focused on getting off. 

He’s quick, grunting into your ear and you're right there at the edge ready to fall over when he pulls out. His cum dripping down your lower back after he gives a few short tugs of his slick cock, your whine an exasperated expectation when he's this fed up. “Seung-” he cuts you off with his fingers, shoving them back into your waiting cunt, pumping at the same pace he had been at before, letting you finish the second he curled the digits to meet the perfect spot inside you. 

It's a rush of a high before he pulls away, fingers in his mouth before he zips his pants back up. It didn't matter to you if he got you off when you had your hands to help. Neither of you was past using the other like it was nothing. You had done it before and you're sure it would happen again. Late nights where you called over Seungmin to eat you out when you just couldn't get off, toys doing little for you when you wanted someone right there between your legs. There were plenty of times you sucked him off without wanting anything in return, but finishing now felt like a bit of a gift. 

“Sorry,” he huffs, less an apology but a way to fill the space. 

“You don't have to apologize,” you try to look at the stain he's left on you, the warmth already cooling against your ass, “I needed a shower anyway,” 

To anyone else it would have felt cold, the dismissal as clean cut in your eyes as you waved him away. But it's the exact reason why you liked Seungmin, if even a little bit. He wasn't one to get attached, less so one to linger; hover around like the ghost of past regrets. The two of you knew exactly what this was, down to the way you turned around with a small goodbye, his in turn response just as cold, transactional. You would have it no other way. 

You jumped into the shower after hearing the door close, Seungmin always remembering to turn the first lock so that you would only have to deadbolt it when you were done. The routine down faster than it took you to memorize your class schedule. He was a constant you knew would always be around, one that you even liked from time to time when he could hold up a conversation longer than a few words. 

It hasn't always been like this, not that first night you met. The conversation flowed, aided by the drinks in hand, tucked into the corner of a frat party neither of you wanted to be at. It was a glaring contrast to the second night when you had called each other back. Less wanting and needy under the LED lights half hitting your faces and more like tonight. It had been one of the only times he had kissed you, lips chasing yours when you pulled away, hands greedy to get a feel of your body, so new and undiscovered to him. “I don't do relationships,” had slipped from both of your mouths between kisses, his apology then for feeling as if he had cum too soon and not because he had pulled out to release on your favorite lace panties. 

But it didn't matter, you didn't need an apology when he had stayed hard, finding himself back in you without stopping, making you feel things you never thought possible, finding your moans in his mouth, as he echoed back the perfect choir to match. It had been the best night you had had with someone, the one you turned to when you needed help to get off. And it wasn't as if you hadn't had great times with Seungmin after that, it was only different because the two of you knew who you were.  

You could see into each other and you didn't have to hide. Somehow you had stripped down to the basic raw instincts of each other, no need for the added layers of emotions when all you wanted was everything physical. Neither of you had to hide from the other when it would be no use in the first place, the two of you looking into a mirror that shouted back the same image. 

It's why when he came back hours later, the knock on your door had the same rhythm he always found, you didn't think to even turn him away. “It almost seems like you missed me,” his eye roll, a welcomed response. 

“Shut up,” but he couldn't deny the way he had already been hard just thinking about driving over to your place. The idea of someone being so open to taking him whenever he saw fit was something he found addicting, something he wouldn't admit to anyone except you but never in words. The confession tucked in between his moans as you sucked him off, the warm, wet skill you have over him bringing him to your door over and over again. 

He did miss you, in some strange way when there was no sex and he was sitting at your doorstep waiting or in the short time it took him to get up and leave, the small conversations shared before you got in the shower he liked the solace he found. The sex was an added bonus nonetheless. But he wouldn't be able to deny that he liked how easy it was to just be himself when around you. It was something he avoided thinking about too much but crept up on nights like this where you just wiped the corner of your mouth and sat next to him on the couch not kicking him out as you turned on the TV. 

The two of you could sit in silence that is not strained, no questions asked when the air is still. It was peace he didn't know that he needed; didn't even know that he wanted. And yet he always went home. 

Because when you woke up, tucked in on the couch right where he left you it wasn't surprising. You just picked yourself up and got ready for school all over again. Bundling up in an extra layer since the seasons were changing, the bike ride numbed your face and ears. Your lecture halls were stuffy with the heat turned up enough to make you flushed, stuck in a roundabout feeling as if you were defrosting. Your partner already waiting in the seats you had picked out at the beginning of the semester, assigned together at random to work together on your final assignment of the quarter. 

Minho was always on time, scrolling through his phone as he waited for you to join, coat thrown over the back of his chair. Your exasperated ‘hi,’ enough to turn his head in your direction, a soft genuine smile gracing his lips, the the edge of his mouth turned up. 

“I only got a few words in on the doc last night, the research isn't going too well,” he confesses while you pull out your laptop from your bag, setting it up once you have taken your seat in the unbearably uncomfortable chair. 

“I only got a few more lines in before i had to take a break, maybe we can work later if you're free,” it was usually how things ended up going, you got most of your work done after class while sitting over coffee growing cold. The work slowly devolved into giggling over stories you shared together. But you two always fell right back into working. 

“I'm free after my lit class, around three if that works,” it's how you ended up back at the cafe, your usual spot occupied by your laptops and books, research underway as you tried again and again to locate the proper evidence you needed. You needed Minho there in times like this to be the soundboard to bounce ideas off of, making sure that your topics lined up and you didn't have the wrong points being made. 

“I can never tell if I'm doing the citations correctly,” Minho muttered, blowing a puff of air out enough to tousle his dark bangs. The two of you had been sitting here for well over two hours, the sun just starting to set from the wintertime. It made the whole cafe feel warm now that most of the bustle of the campus was dying down, everyone just milling around doing work, muttering with their friends, the hum heavy in the air. 

“Let me see,” the table was long, filled with all the books and empty cups you two had yet to clear so you got up to lean over his shoulder to check. 

Minho sat with his hands in his lap, letting you look over the work he had done poorly, “what have you done?” The words are mostly a giggle at how messed up he got the format, every line was at a different indention, nothing lining up properly at all. 

“I have no idea,” he giggles right back, his hand rubbing down his face as he tries to hold back his laugh, “I really didn't want you to see it but it got too bad,” 

“I could have helped when you first had a question,” you remind him, leaning over the side of him to get the keyboard in place for you to help fix. It was something you would have done in the cramped library closer to your lecture hall, the larger study rooms always taken up leaving the single cubicles available, the two of you squeezing into one if you weren't lucky enough to find one together. It's why you preferred the cafe, so much space to look at everything you needed and apparently the free entertainment. 

Pushing open the door, Seungmin waltzed in, eyes glued to his phone before he ran right into the poor soul who happened to be walking right out at the same time. The crash is loud enough to turn everyone's heads, Seungmin's loud “fuck” echoing in the newly silenced room. 

He was drenched in coffee, the front of his cream-colored sweater only showing off the river of the stain for everyone to see it. The perfect design you would wear for a bad day. 

You're frozen leaning over Minho, his hand resting hot on your lower back to steady you. It's the first thing Seungmin sees when he looks up from his soaked sweater, his lip curling in as he holds back his frustration, balling his fists, shaking his head. It's a rush of apologies from the coffeeless person, Seungmin waving him away without the need for the theatrics, what's done was done, and now he's pissed. 

Minho laughs, loud and shocking in your ear, cute teeth on display for the cafe as you gape at him. “Bad day?” he asks, and unlike the rest of the cafe who tries to turn away, shy eyes from the mess made, Minho only racks his eyes up and down the front of Seungmin. 

“Now made worse,” seungmin mutters, not even looking at you as you stand up straight, Minho's hand leaving you as he pushes his hair away from his brow. 

“Oh this is my roommate by the way, seungmin this is my project partner, the one i was telling you about,” he gestures between the two of you, sharing your name, seungmin only sharing you a brief glance. 

“Hi,” “Hello,” it was probably the few times you two had shared niceties, even when he watched you walk up your front steps he was quick to complain about the wait and you were quick to tell him to fuck off. But it was clear Seungmin was surprised to see you now with his roommate. 

Seungmin hadn't even caught on that it was you who was Minho's partner until that very moment, seeing you lean over him, his hand on you like he was comfortable enough to even do so. He listened when Minho talked but clearly not close enough to realize it was you. Now not only soggy and angry he was able to admit the hint of jealousy he was feeling at the sight of the two of you. If not jealousy, annoyance that he hadn't caught on, annoyance that the two of you seemed so comfortable, so able to be seen in public. 

But the two of you had made the rule without thinking much about what it would do in the long run, no need to go on and on thinking about some kind of claim he had on you when in turn you two had no claim over each other at all. But it didn't keep him from feeling the crinkle of unease in his stomach, the feeling so similar to anger that it was easy to feel the emotions flip-flop with each other. “We are just about to finish up and I was wondering if you could take me home,” 

“Don't you have your own ride?” Seungmin asks, Minho was the only other one who had a car in the apartment they shared. It was the point of contention every night who got street parking and who got the lone parking spot by the front door. 

“I dropped it off at the shop before class and just walked the way, and it's too cold to walk back now,” Minho shrugs,“wait dont you bike home?” you've moved back to your side of the table, slowly packing your things as they talk, seungmin ignoring you. 

“Yeah, but I'm used to it, when it snows I'll catch a ride with a friend or just walk once it's settled,” 

“I could give you a ride whenever you wanted,” and he's so obviously flirting it's like you're caught. Seungmin is watching you, looking for your response as you blink at Minho who is smiling so sweetly the corner of his mouth dipped just right to turn any girl to agree just to see that smile again. 

“Flirting when I'm right here?” Seungmin flicks Minho's shoulder, and you can feel your face heat, as Minho rolls his eyes. It should feel small, like a joke, Seungmin poking fun at Minho in front of a girl he likes, but it feels like Seungmin trying to tug you from Minho’s hands.  The obvious glint in Seungmin’s eyes could be written off by his bad day but you know exactly what it means, if anyone knew what he looked like when pissed it was you. 

“Maybe i'll take you up on it for now youre right i should be back home it's getting late and i don't like to make the trip in the dark,” it's all you have to say to get away from really answering in front of seungmin, your bad thrown over your shoulder as you wave bye to them, “its was nice meeting you, see you tomorrow minho,” seungmin dipping his head in a stiff nod as you leave. 

It wasn't too long after that there was a knock on your door, the first words out of your mouth teasing him, “Is someone upset?” he doesn't even try to answer with his usual bite, his hands in your hair before he's nipping your neck, leaving a trail of wanting bites and muttered words you can't grasp. The door is kicked shut behind him as you clutch his shirt, still warm under his open coat as you stumble back. 

He was needy, hard already, and grinding into you as you fell back on the couch. His hands were hot, working off your shirt, not stopping to worry over your bra as he shoved his hands down into your sweatpants, sliding them down your legs along with your panties. 

It's rare that Seungmin comes over to eat you out, not unless you send him a text to head your way. Now with his lips on your clit it shocks your system, thighs trying to close in around his ears, hands twisting into his hair as he sucks. He doesn't even have to try to get you wet, he's lapping at your cunt like he had been starved for you, the lewd sounds only making you shake. It's when he slips his fingers in, curling them just right that you cry out, moaning without warning that the noises would even leave your lips. 

“Wait-” It feels too soon to finish, like everything is hurtling towards you as you feel the tightness in your stomach burns. You don't want him to stop now when you're crashing as he pulls his mouth away, thumb working over your clit to help ease you down from your hair, the fingers still inside you, pumping slowly as he watches the way you tremble for him. 

“Tell me you want it,” chin still slick with your wetness, his tongue darting out to taste you on the edge of his lips. Your heart is beating in your ears, so caught off guard that you're stumbling to keep up but Seungmin is right there tugging you closer to where you need to be. His thumb which had been so slow is now replaced by his persistent circles, speeding up the longer it takes you to answer. “Tell me,” 

“I want it,” you can't even remember what it was a few minutes ago opening the door for him, teasing only to be teased right back, now you're looking for anything to hold onto, searching for the right words as your mind spins. 

“Beg me for it,” he pulls his fingers from inside you, placing them on his tongue as he soaks in your desperate whimpers. 

“Please-” hips moving on their own, you're grinding forward trying to catch more pressure as he slows down his circling fingers on your clit. “Please Seungmin- I want it, please,” 

Free hand pushing down his pants he releases his aching cock, pre-cum bubbling up from the tip, thumb rolling over his slit to catch the release. “Louder,” his eyes are hooded as he watches, so dark you are sure that you'd fall into them if you didn't know what this was. But you couldn't care about that, not when he was demanding something so little of you. 

“Please- please Seungmin,” his lashes flutter at the sound, his name on your lips like an antidote to his frozen limbs. He moves so that he can sink into you, falling over your body as the two of you gasp at the entrance, the stretch gloriously needed to leave you mindless. 

He doesn't even realize he's doing it, nose to yours, breathing in the same air, gasping on the same breath, lips just brushing and before he can help himself he's kissing you, sloppy and consuming. The taste of you fills your senses as he finds it in him to devour you. Your arms wrap around his neck, hands pulling on his hair as you let him take control as if you ever had an ounce of it before. 

Every drag of his cock only draws out both of your hums, the slow pace only speeding up as Seungmin’s need grows. He had only been here yesterday, felt the warmth and squeeze of your cunt less than twenty-four hours ago, and yet even he could admit he was addicted. He needed a long fuck, that drawn-out ache working into his bones the whole way to dropping off Minho back at their shared apartment. The only thought on his mind was the way you said his friend's name instead of his, how many times had you uttered his name? How many times would you do it again if you had the opportunity? He wanted you to think of him in the way he was starting to think of you. 

Not in the way he had imagined, he knew I wouldn't fall into loving you easily as horrible as it sounded. Seungmin had come to the conclusion that he wouldn't find anyone to love, but you…you were an obsession, that jealousy twisting around his mind, burning down every rational thought until he couldn't help but need to hear you say it, say his name, over and over again. 

And you didn't stop saying it, the reverberation of it pressed to his lips as he tried to hold back his moans but it was impossible when you felt this good under him. He didn't even realize it was happening, the kissing, until he was cumming, his breaths uneven, whines pressed right into your mouth as you came along with him. The warmth of his cum spilling out of you with each added thrust he made, his face pressed into your neck to try and hide what he had done. 

His mind was clearing, from the jealousy, from the orgasm, from you, and he needed to leave.  

It felt so unceremonious; so quick to move from passion to regret. He shouldn't be here, not when it wasn't just anger getting him off but jealousy, unreasonable jealousy that felt heavy and sick in his stomach. He had no reason to be jealous, not now when the both of you had made it clear that if the other found a partner you would stop seeing each other. That the two of you would let the other know when it was even close to happening. And maybe that's why he was angry, not over the fact someone had the opportunity to get you in bed but because it would mean he would be left alone with nothing but his hand.

Since being with you in whatever way it was you had, he hasn't even tried to look for anyone else because he didn't have to and he didn't necessarily want to. He liked the ease at which you put him. Even now, pulling out of you and cleaning you up it felt so normal until your phone lit up on the table. Minho's name flashed across the screen for the small second it needed to let you know he had texted you. So late at night when you don't usually text your project partner. 

You didn't even see it, too busy throwing your clothes in the hamper, warming up your shower, and asking if Seungmin wanted to hop in with you. It was an offer, not a plea he knew as much. 

He could still feel your kiss, the thrumming of the memory scaring him more than he would like to admit. So much so that he's gone with a wave, ditched from the situation like it was the first week of seeing each other and not two years deep. 

You knew he would do it, the second he kissed you he would be gone. It was rare he made the slip up but it wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last time and each time you knew he would be out the door no matter how much you told him it didn't matter. 

It was something you had trained yourself not to be hurt over but it's not as if you didn't see it getting easier with time but it only got disappointing. Seungmin had only stayed over a few times in your bed, sleeping over without realizing he was doing it, not realizing that you two found each other sharing a meal over the course of a few episodes of TV, sitting around on your phones, sending each other videos you found funny because he was right there and on your mind. 

So you climbed into bed feeling drained and wishing for just one time you could spend it tucked back into it, not even cuddled, with him after a night like this where it seemed like he wanted you so bad he couldn't stop himself from taking and taking. But you didn't care, or it's what you liked to tell yourself, you had signed up for it, knew what you were asking for, and had enjoyed it, loved the rules you had fit so snugly against, all until it felt like a straight jacket you could pry yourself out of. 

It kept you up most of the night, the chill of the air outside sinking in between your floorboards making your bed seem warmer than it really was, wanting you to stay in it and skip the day so that you didn't have to face the ride to school. But you fell into the monotony of the day, dressing and making sure your bag was packed with everything you would need for the day. Minho has texted you to tell you he wouldn't be in today because of his car, needing to take it to get checked out across town. It meant you could leave early and work in the comfort of your own home but it also meant you had to keep yourself accountable in getting the work done alone. 

It's halfway to campus that the first snowfall starts, the fat white puffs coming down like rain; fast and hard. You have to keep your annoyance in check at the sight. It was snowing so much earlier in the year, that the hassle of finding someone to take you on the worst days already makes you upset. You can feel the scowl set in on your brow, the tilt of your mouth taking its shape. It's how Seungmin sees you, locking up your bike with your hands in fingerless gloves, spinning the combination, the snowflakes catching in your hair. Scarf tucked close to your chin, nose scrunched as the wind sends a flurry of snow in your direction. 

The decision is easy, he knows when your class is out, your schedule memorized just like you had his down. And when the day is over, your last lecture out he waits next to the bike rack not caring if anyone sees him. Leaning right against your bike he wipes away the build up of snow that had already accumulated. You don't even notice him, head down as you try to avoid the breeze. 

“It's snowing,” the sound of his voice startling you, the obvious observation making you irritable. 

“I know,” you tug on the lock, fingers already falling numb as you put in your combination. The second it clicks seungmin’s hands are on the handlebars, pulling it from its spot, and rolling it away from you. “What the hell-” but you don't stop him, following after as he leads you to his car, already on and warmed. 

The suv was completely oversized and obnoxious, the kind of car that was made for families or people with entourage, not a college student. But it was Seungmin’s prized possession, the only thing he put all his care into, and he was proud of it. You had made fun of it before, the spot in front of your apartment hardly big enough to fit it between the other two much smaller cars next to it. But he took no criticism of it, completely blacked out with its heated seats. It was a blessing when the road's reflection of the winter sun bounced off the blinding snow. 

You had only been in it a few times, that first night being one of them, his hand on your thigh as he drove you home. Even now it was a welcome warmth as you got in, body instantly feeling the effect of defrosting as you buckled in, seungmin lifting your bike to place in the trunk like it was something he did all the time and not the first occurrence. 

And for the first time, the air was stale between you two, not the usual understanding, not after last night when both of you couldn't get the feel of each other's lips to go away. The radio was low, your hands twisting together as an excuse to do something besides sit still; eyes dancing over the oncoming snow, raining down harder than it had been earlier. The soft thumps of the windshield wipers keep up with the pace of your thoughts, say something- don't, say something- don't.  

It's not until he pulls into his usual spot that you speak up, the light, “thank you,” fading into the background. The wind is howling, beating the flakes against the windshield at a rate the wipers can't keep up with, the inside of the car keeping the two of you in a reverse snowglobe, watching the world shake as you ask, “do you want to wait it out inside?” 

“If you don't mind,” he doesn't even share a glance your way, eyes passing you to look out the window before looking over his shoulder into the backseat, “we can just leave the bike in here for now,” 

The two of you rush out of the car, huddled close as you fumble for your keys, Seungmin standing in the way of the wind, taking the brunt of the weather before you push open the door. The two of you shedding clothes without the intention of fucking for the first time in a long time, your school bag falling to the foot of the couch as you move to turn up the heater.“Do you want anything to eat, i have a few snacks and things if you're hungry,” 

He already knows where the pantry is, pulling open the door to look inside. It's casual and yet you feel the distance, not only in the way you had been before, the barely talking had been comfortable, but now the barely talking felt heavy. But you wouldn't be the one to break it, it wasn't you who came around to take you home, it wasn't you who had kissed him. But you knew exactly why you wouldn't say anything. Somewhere the worm of thought was wiggling around your brain, telling you that you weren't as casual as you had hoped to be, you were in some way friends at the end of it all, even if no one knew about it. 

Seungmin pulled out a bag of popcorn, still folded nearly, ready to be popped. You sat back down on the couch, getting under your blanket and ignoring your work as you reached for the remote to the TV. The air filled with the buttery scent of fresh-popped kernels, seungmin reached for a bowl in the cabinet already having seen you do this exact task before. 

“I didn't know you knew Minho,” you don't even turn in his direction when he makes the statement, watching the TV shows and movies flip past, looking for something to watch. 

“Yeah we’ve been working together for most of the year,” you watch Seungmin’s lips pursed, nodding to your answer lightly before moving over to sit next to you on the couch. He kicks his socked feet up onto your coffee table and you click on a random show that neither of you care much about. “I didn't know he was one of your roommates, I knew you had them of course it's why you keep me away from your coveted apartment,” 

“It's not coveted, they are just nosey,” you lean over to grab a handful of popcorn as he chews, “and your place has no one else we have to worry about, if we went to my place yesterday and tried to fuck on the couch we would have a lot of explaining to do, and the decor is better here,” 

“So it's the decor and convenience that keeps you coming,” you're leaning on the armrest of your couch, half turned to him so that you can push your foot into his side. Toes cold as you tuck them under his thigh. 

“You know that's not the only reason,” but it's the way he looks at you when he says it that makes you freeze, the soft tilt to his eyes and the quick realization that he was doing it in the first place. But you knew it wasn't the sex, not when he was quick to flush about the statement. He never got embarrassed to talk about your sex life, seungmin was the most open partner you had, slowly pulling that same confidence out of you. He was easy to talk to about what you wanted and when you wanted it, his one-month-long journey to get you to speak up in bed worked wonders on the way your sex had evolved. 

But this, the blush on his cheeks staining your mind as you knew turned over the meaning in your mind. He knew the same comfort that you did, felt the same relaxation settling over him as it did you when you could just strip back to someone who was entirely yourself and yet hidden from so many other people. “I know,” it's a whisper because anything more would make him run, just like a kiss, anything more and he would be out the door in seconds, snowstorm be damned he would sit in his car. And you were starting to hate that truth, that fear he was feeling. So you kicked him again, “and you can't resist my-” 

“Do not start right now, I'm eating,” he cracks a smile, the corner of his mouth turning up as you fake shock. 

“I was going to say personality i have no idea where your mind was going,” 

“Your personality makes me sick,” his tongue poked out for a moment as you shoved your feet further under him, toes wiggling in the cramped space. 

“Your attitude makes me sick,” you quip, rolling your eyes as he leans over, hand sliding up your calf. 

“You love my attitude,” it's the kind of moment that would have led to sex, you could see it, him leaning over to kiss you,if he let himself. Spilling popcorn but neither of you cared as you fell into each other. But that wasn't the way things felt for you two, because that would have been too close to a couple and you could see that in his eyes when he pulled away.“I should head out soon before the roads get too bad and it looks like it's clearing up a bit,” he nods to your window, the curtains pulled back to see the light snowfall. 

“Yeah, let me get my bike-” 

“I'll just pick you up tomorrow, you're seriously not going to bike in the snow again,” he passes you the bowl of half eaten popcorn, setting it in your lap as he stands. 

“You don't have to do that-” 

“But I am, you don't have to worry about it I don't mind, and you can't deny you don't love the heated seats,” and you want to ask him to stay, and spend the night. He had clothes here, ones he had left and forgotten. He knew where in the drawer they were and put them occasionally, it wouldn't even be the first time he used your shower whether alone or not. Even sharing your bed wouldn't have been too much. But you let him go without asking. Too scared to be turned away, too scared to think about why you wanted him here this close when you swore to yourself that you wouldn't let that happen, he had told you it wouldn't happen. But the lines felt so blurred when he was being nice even if it was the bare minimum. 

So he left, took your bike along with him, and you found yourself alone in bed again, turning and turning as you tried to find the right spot to lay. You had accounted for the bad sleep to that, the constant moving, and yet the second you made it to the bathroom you found your period had started. Your groan sank into your stomach as you got ready. Seungmins knock on the door was punctual and all too much a reminder of not having enough time to crawl back into bed and skip. 

“You look like shit,” it's the first words out of his mouth and you're not sorry for the look you land on him. 

“I hardly slept,” you mutter, locking up and following him back to the waiting warm car. The few steps down were slick with a mix of melting snow and salt, Seungmin’s hand helpful as he hovered it just slightly next to your hip without actually touching you. It made you want to shout at him for being nice, for blurring lines you didn't think would ever be spotted with questions. 

It felt like he was toying with you, pulling on the little string on your back to hear you, all before he left again. It was tiring and you already felt drained. Especially when he was back to not knowing you on campus, the library filled with people, and there he sat with his friends, ignoring you when everyone else said hi when Minho introduced you, picking up notes he needed from one of them. It felt like falling backward, hurtling in a different direction than you had been going when on the couch together less than a day ago. 

And it was so easy to feel annoyed today of all days, when your cramps were starting to work their way through your body, and make you more uncomfortable than sitting silently in a car with seungmin as he took you home. But you did have to agree about the heated seats being the perfect makeup for not having to bike to school. 

But as you sat there trying to focus on the warmth under you all you could feel was pain in your lower back, that hollow ache pressed right against your pelvis. 

Seungmin could see the way you were trying to hold back a whine, eyes squeezed shut as you rested your hand over your stomach, leaning back with a frown on your mouth. He didn't say anything, just followed you back into your apartment unasked, and you let him too tired to care. “I don't feel like it today,” you muttered while he followed you into your bedroom, already halfway undressed as you slipped on pajamas. 

“Neither do I,” he shrugged, pushing out of his coat. “If you want me to leave I can,” 

But you don't tell him to go and you don't really tell him to stay. Groaning as you fall into bed, face pressed into the pillow trying to find some way that relieves even a bit of your pain. Seungmin climbs in after you, but not next to you as if he was going to nap but straddling the back of your thighs, hands warm as he pushes the back of your sleep shirt up, fingertips pressing into your lower back as you whine. 

He knew your periods would get bad occasionally, once you had texted him to come over just so that he could help you to bed, your body curled up on the bathroom floor, head pounding with a headache and nausea making it hard to want to stand at all. He hadn't said anything, helped you up, and took you to your bed without questions. It had been one of the truly personal moments you had shared and didn't care that he had seen you like that, didn't care if it had made you seem less sexy because it hadn’t, he had been back just as often as he had the week before. 

Now he massaged you, hands kneading slowly as you tried not to think about what it meant to have him here with you now. It would have felt embarrassing to have anyone else around to see you like this but at the same time, it was natural. And Seungmin liked to know he could make you feel good, not only when he was having sex with you but that he could make you feel good in a way that was similar to how you made him feel. He liked to know you were okay, liked to see that he could provide as you had for him when he was in his nastier moods. Because sometimes he felt bad that he used you, even if you had used him right back it left him feeling like he owed you an apology, even if you would never accept it. 

So you let him stay, let his warm hands work you to sleep. And when you woke up with the lights dimmed, curtains pulled closed to let you sleep in you felt like crying. Your bed empty but your bedside table dawned a full glass of water, a few painkillers, and crackers. He was gone but he hadn't left like it was nothing. 

You climbed into the shower trying to wash away the feelings that had started to cling to your skin, your mind. It felt wrong to hear his knock on your door and know the second you saw him you wanted to hug him and say thank you. You wanted to let him know how much it meant to you, how much it was affecting you. The only thing you could come up with as a thank you that didn't seem too much was to gift him your apartment spare key, shoved in the back of a junk drawer where it should not have been, the little heart keychain getting tangled in a bunch of old changing cables you had no use for anymore. 

It was a long overdue gift, one you should have given a year ago in the winter where he would stand next to the front door with his hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders to his ears. But you had been so used to avoiding your feelings that it was easy to write them off as nothing more than a complication. But now it feels silly to think that. This isn't even the first time he was nice, much less the last time seeing as he was already leading you down to his warm car. 

“Here so you don't have to freeze your ass off and so you can deadbolt my door when you leave now,” it was another casual dismissal like it meant nothing to hand your house key over to someone you only slept with when you needed to take a load off. But it was the way you knew wouldn’t make him run, if you had said it any nicer he would leave and you wouldn't see him for a week or more, damn it if you're cold or not. 

“Took you long enough, didn't I ask for a key once and you told me if I didn't make one there was no way of me ever getting one?” he slipped the key into his back pocket, the little pink heart made of easily shattered plastic hanging out right against his dark jeans. 

“Well you have it now so no need to complain about how long it takes me to make it back from campus,” you were setting yourself up for the morning when he didn't show up, did not knock or let himself in so that he could take you, snow or not you knew it would sting. 

“You love it when I complain,” your answering eye-roll enough to make him chuckle. 

You didn't think that he would use the key so soon, the weekend rolling in, no reason for him to pick you up, no reason to come over. He had even dropped your bike off right outside your door on Friday so that if you needed it you had it. Spending most of the day hunched over your books working on your project that you and minho would have to submit by the end of the week and present. 

It was late enough that Minho had logged off the shared doc and retired for the night and you knew you wouldn't hear from him until he was ready to put in work again. So you stood going over your presentation trying and failing to work your way through the parts you had to memorize. You got more points if you didn't use flashcards, and even more points if you only gestured towards the board and didn't need help to remember plot points from it as you flipped through slides. But you kept having to look down and remember the parts you had to interject in between Minho's parts. 

The task was distracting enough not to hear the door open behind you, your hand falling over your heart the second you turned and away Seungmin coming in, the flashcards holding Minho's parts of the presentation fluttering to the ground,“you scared me you asshole-” 

“I texted you like an hour ago that i was coming over,” and you know your phone is on the charger in the other room, turned face down to try and keep you from flipping it over and going on it to procrastinate. 

“We can have sex after you help me with this,” picking up all the notecards you file them in order shoving them into his unexpectant hands. 

“I don't really want to do homework this late at night, it's not even my homework,” fingers deftly working through the cards, “and it's not even your work i’m reading, shouldn't minho be working on this with you?” 

“He was busy and i didnt even know you were coming over so, wrong place wrong time, now help me,” you wave seungmin to sit on the couch, standing in front of the coffee table, closing your eyes to try and remember the first line in your speech. 

“He is back at home watching TV with the guys,” Seungmin says leaning back as he reads over his half of the cards. “And you know sometimes I come for the company,” it was the truth, or at least as much as he was willing to share. He didn't know why he had texted that he was on his way, he knew less as to why he couldn't think of what to say when he finally put his key in your lock. He was glad to have found you somewhat shocked to see him so that he wouldn't have to jump right into your bed but had time to do what he really wanted; just sit around in your presence. 

“Well either way I want a very nice reward for doing so much school work so late into the night,” and it had been a while since you had found each other twisted up together, especially after seeing each other around more often than usual these past few weeks. “For now I need you to read those when I get to the breaks,” 

Seungmin picked up the pace easily enough, pointing out the grammar mistakes that had been rushed over in haste to get the cards done. But you were thankful to have him help you. His easy chuckle and smooth cadence helped more than you thought you needed. Even halfway you order food to be delivered, taking a much needed break and calling it a night for work. You had been standing the whole time, looking for a way to make it seem less awkward talking with nothing in your hands. Now your legs were tired, your groan leaving you the second you laid out on the couch not caring about putting your feet into his lap while you did it. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, eyes covered with the back of your hand as you sighed through your nose. “I know it sucks to come over for sex and get this instead,” 

“I didn't come over just for sex, believe it or not. Sometimes I like your company enough to not be inside you,” but it didn't matter about him trying to brush it off when now all you could think about was sex. And with him looking the way that he did, half disheveled and relaxed was enough to make you want to sink to your knees for him. So you did. Sliding from the couch so that you could be in front of him, hands gliding over his thighs, looking up from under your lashes. 

“I mean we don't have to…” but just the sight of you like this on your knees for him was making him grow hard, his hands reaching out for yours, capturing them before you could find his zipper. 

“Sit with me,” but the words themself felt like a ‘no’, a direct denial that he could read over your features as they sink into you. But it wasn't the way he wanted you to take it, not when he couldn't get the idea of your lips out of his mind, not wrapped around him but pressed to his, chasing his mouth as he tried to catch his breath. So when you got up he pulled you down to the couch with him, pushing you into the fabric and finding your mouth without warning. 

He knows he shouldn't, knows it goes against the quasi-distance he puts between you two, and yet all he could think about was the last time his lips were on you, kissing you, trying to hide his truths right against your mouth. And you were so willing, arms pulling him in, needing him closer, wanting to be here, and not pushing him away like you should have. But even you couldn't deny how good it felt to have him this close to you, semi-hard just from the sight of you. And there was something about breaking the thin rules you two had in place like his need was more than his conscience. No longer able to resist himself. 

It was a slow kiss, exploring the way you fit together as if you hadn't learned each other's bodies before this one bit. All his kisses turned intense, dripping with desire as you spread your legs, letting him sink in closer to you, rolling his hips as he caught his breath on the edge of a whimper. And he was looking at you, really catching you in his sight, blinking down at you. His hair hanging around his brows that you couldn't help but push it back, fingers running through the strands as you tucked them behind his ear. “You look so pretty,” 

It was the truth, one you didn't know you had said aloud but you had, and now he was pulling away. Sitting up and leaving you laid out, disheveled, and feverish from a few kisses. “I have to go,” 

“Seungmin-” 

“No i should go, i need to go,” and it was a switch, that boyish smile cleaned from the surface like a stain he didn't want visitors to see, and you were just a visitor he allowed to see it occasionally but not one he let stay. Now his scowl was set in, his shoulders set as you sat up. 

“Fine, go, run away,” his eyes flickered at the dismissal as if he could be angry at you for kicking him out so willingly. 

You watch the way his eyes roll, “we have rules for a reason,” 

“Rules,” the word feels foreign in your mouth, arms crossing, “you're the one who came over, you're the one who told me it wasn't for sex, if it wasn't for sex what was it for? Huh? Think about the rules next time you want to stay a while,” 

“We said no kissing,” 

“You said no kissing, and I never kissed you first, think back to every time it's happened, you did it, take up the rules with yourself,” 

“You should not let me-” 

“Let you, you're acting like a child, get over it, people kiss all the time, go if you want to, act like you don't like me,” 

“Fine,” he mutters grabbing his coat, “and it's not an act,” you don't even try to stop him, let him walk right out and even listen to the sound of him locking the door, deadbolt slamming like the shutting of a heavy book, echoing in the room as you fall back where he had pressed you, heels of your palms pressed to your eye sockets, sighing. 

He was scared and you didn't help it, didn't want to push him so you pushed him away. The both of you are childish and cold to the other, running around like you don't know that this would one day crack so much so that you wouldn't be able to glue it back together. But you had never predicted it would be over a kiss or even the friendship you had started with one another. And even that made you want to cry, now alone on a warm couch soon to grow cold because he's not here anymore to keep you warm. 

He doesn't call or text you, doesn't even come to pick you up Monday morning. The snow already settled and mostly shoveled away from the roads and sidewalks, and a lot of other people from campus were already back to walking. And you had prepared yourself for this, your sadness turning to anger more than anything else. The walk filled with a scowl and half pouty stomp, cursing Seungmin under your breath knowing that if it was anyone else making you feel this way you would have called Seungmin over to work you out enough to let it go. And now you have no one to help you, having to find more conventional ways of getting your anger out. And so you turned to overwork on your projects. 

You spent more time at the library and the cafe, calling Minho to practice so that you knew in some way Seungmin might know that you were busy. The whole week you poured over every little note to take your mind away from his and his rare smile and soft kisses. And when you did see him at the cafe ordering a coffee neither of you acknowledged the other, brushing past each other like true strangers, like it had been before when you first set your rules.

But it did sting, like an ember that only aided a fire and didn't put it out because you bottled it up and didn't wallow over it. You wouldn't be the first one to crack, not when you didn't see what you had done wrong besides letting him do what the both of you were thinking. 

Minho had picked up on the irritation, “everyone is having a bad week, some of my roommates are in a pisspoor mood,” he commented while you waiting for your turn to present your project, “you should come out with us tonight, we are celebrating the end of the quarter with lots of drinks and dancing but mostly drinks,” 

Most of your time had been spent indoors and now would be the perfect time to get out. The much needed time away from your apartment, letting go and not thinking about Seungmin on your couch, and if he wanted you he would text you,or wait for you to come home. “That sounds perfect actually,” and Minho planned to pick you up for your place, texting you when he was outside and watching you lock up from the comfort of his car, headlights shining over you as you walked across to get to the passenger side door. 

Both of you had done great on your project, the time you spent pouring over your work and not worrying about boys with commitment issues helped tremendously. Now without a care you wore the shortest skirt you owned and didn't care if Seungmin saw or not. Until you made it to the bar and watched his eyes find you. Minho's hand in yours led you through the crowd to the table they had all gotten, seungmin’s jaw tight as he held his glass of water, gaze trapped on the way Minho helped you get into the booth. 

It felt liberating to be ‘allowed’ to talk to him in this sense. He couldn't hide behind the fact he didn't know you after this, you would now know of each other publicly even if he never did break and text you again. For now, you would sit and let him stew for as long as he wanted. And stew he did, watching every little move you made although he was trying not to seem obvious about it. He listened and didn't talk, nodding along to what his friends were saying and yet still treating the room like it was only you two and your fight between you. 

And when Minho asked you to dance you didn't stop yourself from agreeing, taking his hand and letting him hold you, standing as close as he wanted knowing exactly how angry it would make Seungmin to see. He traced the path Minho'shand had made on you, from the underside of your rib cage down to your hip, catching your eyes as he fumed. His tipping point when you caught him looking you knowingly blew him a kiss, the taunt going too far for him. His scowl set as he stood grabbing his phone and shoving it into his pocket. 

“I think I'm going to head home,” your hand cupped near Minho's ear, “I'm going to call a bad I'm a little lightheaded,” 

“I can wait with you-” he started, concern written over his face before confusion.

“I can wait with her, Chans asking after you,” Seungmin’s voice was a cool balm over your flushed skin, hot from the crowd, the lights. His face had an indifferent cold exterior as you nodded, “Yeah, you stay, have a good time,” 

Minho gave you one last final look over, nodding with a quick,“Okay, text me when you get home,” before you were walking out the same way you had come in. the chill sinking into your bones the second you left the stuffy club. Your phone in hand, fully prepared to call a cab just like you had claimed you would. 

“You could sleep with him if you wanted to,” Seungmin wasn't even in front of you when he said it, your head snapping to look at him over your shoulder, his brow raised like he was waiting for you to take the bait waving in front of you. 

“Oh I know,” the sarcasm dripped from you like venom. You didn't want to sleep with anyone, not when the one person who you enjoyed getting your anger out on was being an ass. 

“Go sleep with him, you have my permission,” he tipped his head in the direction of the door, goosebumps rising along your arms from the anger, the cold. 

“I don't need your permission to sleep with anyone, you don't do relationships, remember,” you were standing right at the edge of the pavement, where the sidewalk met the parking lot. “Go home,” the words felt heavy as you said them, hitting him with each syllable. You felt so silly standing here before him, both of you dancing around each other but you could see the cracks in him, watching the way the water bubbled to the surface ready to spill out between the two of you. 

“I'm just reminding you,” it made you sick, the arrogance, the casual brush off as if he wasn't the one who started the conversation over nothing. 

“Maybe I will sleep with him,” but you're bluffing, crossing your arms and stalking closer to him, your breath fanning white in front of you like smoke, “maybe he will actually invite me over and not run away from his feelings,” 

But he's angry even at the thought, “no,” the word like a slammed door at the unwelcome proposal. He looks disgusted, nose scrunched, shaking his head, “No,” as if repeating it would make it stick.  

“didn't you just say I could? Go back so easy on your word when people play with your toys, if you like me just admit it- stop acting like a toddler and fess up,” you're standing so close to him now, it didn't matter what height you were when in this conversation he knew you were right anyways you looked you would be the one on top. You just wanted once for him to admit it, say it without having to reduce yourself to begging him. You wanted him to say yes, to tell you, even if you had to stop seeing each other you would live with it because you could live with him being scared but not dishonest. 

But he just blinked back at you, mouth pinched closed like he knew it would drive you insane. Sometimes he loved to deny you, wait it out because it was better that way than just giving in to losing. “Let's go, you can't walk home it's too far,” the words felt like a clear wave of his hand, taking everything you had said and swiping it off the table into a drawer that was easy to slam closed and ignore for later, or never open again. 

You turned around, arms crossed, fiddling with your phone as if you weren't too angry to look at the screen properly. You would walk all the way home if it would fuck with him, just to say you did as petty as it was. You would be the only one at a loss and still, it didn't matter, you knew it would piss him off nonetheless, or if you went back in and asked Minho for a ride, that would hurt him even more. “I'm going to get a ride,” you throw over your shoulder, the angry padding of his following steps right behind you. 

“You already have one,” he holds up his key and you see your keychain as the only other one on there besides his house key and car key, the small heart dangling in his fist, “come on, get in,” 

“Admit it,” you don't care that you are stopped in the middle of the parking lot, standing there in what felt close to nothing, numb from the cold. 

Seungmin watched the way you shivered, hated that he knew you would torture his mind until the end if he didn't get you into the warmth of his car, no matter how badly he wanted to keep his mouth shut. Because he did like you, hated that he was backed in the corner to say it when he could hardly think about it when alone, less when he was with you and the idea was right over him. He was so good at ignoring things, he had been doing it since that first night that he had you. “Fine, get in the car,” it was already on and warm. 

“Say it,” your hip dips, ready to hold out. 

“I like you,” he says it like he hates the words, the tone chipped as you pull it out of him, but you know him, know him best when he's on the edge of anger and desire, “now get in the fucking car,” 

“Fine,” both of you headed for the car, Seungmin reaching out around you so he could pull your door open. He even helps by keeping his hand right on your lower back as you step up to get in, closing the door behind you as you reach over to turn up the heater. The seat was already warm and welcoming. He doesn't say anything when he gets in, putting the car in reverse, hand on the back of your seat as he twists to get a good view behind him. You sit watching outside the front windshield, arms still crossed as you ignore the way his shirt rides up across his waistband. 

“You could have cleared up so much if you had just said something sooner,” you mutter, “hell even if you didn't want me because if it did, it would have been better than sitting around thinking about how I must be a horrible kisser-” 

“I never said that,” he cuts you off, watching the road as the snow starts to come back down. The roads had been cleared and it was only a light dusting, flurries that would melt as soon as they hit the pavement. 

“Exactly you never say anything, you come, you fuck, you leave. I don't even mind it, I welcome it, but then you come over and just hang out, kiss me, and leave but deny you have feelings for me-”

“I never said I didn't have feelings for you, you never asked,” 

“I shouldn't have to ask,”

“I shouldn't have to be the one to start the conversation, you're just as much to blame as I am,” it shuts you up, lips twisting closed as you sink into the seat knowing he's right. But it didn't matter, what's done was done, and you were never the one to run away from him, annoy him yes, but you never ran. 

The two of you sat in silence, watching the snow fall, the anger slightly dissipating as you let the thoughts of him take over. You knew you were a hypocrite, and felt it as easily as you felt the feelings you had for him. You didn't want to push him away, you didn't want him to take you home to drop you off and ignore you all over again. Not when it would feel closer to breaking up than him not coming back to pick you up from school. “I like you and I don't care about the stupid rules, not when you like me too. I like you more than just the sex and that's saying a lot because you can be distant. And I like it when you kiss me, even when you don't mean to, I like it when you come over just to hang out, and I like your stupid car and its heated seats, and I like your smile,” 

The words came out in a rush, “I used to like that you ignored me and now I just hate it, and I hate your stupid jealousy over nothing at all, and I hate the way you make me feel sometimes,” 

“Like when?” His grip on the wheel was tight, knuckles white from the hold. 

“Like when you pull away from kissing me and leave me alone, when you don't show up to pick me up the next week and walk past me like you don't know me anymore, when you watch me dance with someone else and you don't admit when I'm right. And I hate it even more that when you kiss me and it doesn't make you want to stay but run,” your throat felt tight, your teeth working into the flesh of your lip, trying to ignore the way this conversation was making you feel. You didn't even notice him pulling off the shoulder of the road, not until he was putting the car in park. 

Unbuckling his seatbelt he leans over, catching your chin in his hand, pulling you to meet him halfway across the center console to press his lips to yours. You know he's doing it to prove a point, the slow kiss weakening you. Breaking the kiss, you're only just ghosting your lips over his still searching ones, “Seungmin-” 

“I like you, a lot more than I care to admit, and I-” he doesn't even open his eyes as he says it, brows coming together as if it pains him to admit it, “I want to spend all my time with you, I want to kiss you over and over until we can't breathe and I want you to want me as badly as I need you,” his nose bumps yours, the whispered, “please,” pressed right against your mouth, so close its as if it came from your mouth too. 

And you can't help yourself from clinging to him, pulling him by his shirt, hands fisted in the fabric as he devours you. His hand slid behind your ear cupping your skull to get you as near as he could and still he needed you closer. With his free hand, he clicked your seatbelt button, needing it off of you. It was easy enough to follow his instructions, even the silent ones after so long of knowing each other in movements instead of words. 

Pushing out of your seat you made the climb over to his side, his chair pushed back to give you room when between him and the steering wheel. Your skirt bunching around your hips, now short enough to be a belt in this position; arms wrapping around his neck as he holds your waist, keeping you steady as your knees dig into the sides of the seat. He doesn't give you much time to wait before his mouth is back on you, his control slipping as you meet him with the same need, his exploration of you turning messy in seconds. 

It's when he starts to kiss down your jaw, mouth open and hot against your skin that you feel how hard he has gotten, pressed against your thigh as you roll your head back for him. He drags his teeth over your neck, kissing away the trail, groaning at the taste of you. He wants more, needs more, hips rolling up into your as if that bit of friction would fix anything. It didn't matter how many times he had you, he would need more, needed to hear you say his name like you did now, meeting him with a slow tantalizing grind back down on him. 

Your nails scratched along his scalp, gripping his hair with one hand as the other wedges between you two fiddling with the button on his pants. “We don't have to,” he's gasping, the car steaming up. The snow thickened against the windshield, the wipers cut off once he had pulled over.

“I want to,” you say against his mouth, relishing in the way he gasps as soon as your hand grips him. He's never been so whiny before, vocal as you rise on your knees, panties pushed to the side as you drag his tip through your slick folds.“Tell me if you want me to stop,” but he's shaking his head, nose brushing your cheek, hips pushing up to try and catch your entrance before you can think about stopping. 

“No, don't stop,” hands on your hips holding you hard enough to bruise the second he slips in an inch. “Please don't stop,” 

The stretch makes you gasp, forehead to his as he tries to keep himself from pushing all the way in so fast. But you don't care, you want him as deep as he will go, as close as you can get him. Sinking down you take in the overwhelming feeling, hand falling to your stomach as you moan, “You're so-” the words won't even form anymore, brain finding it hard to make connections to your mouth now that you had him this far in.  

“You always feel so fucking good,” Seungmin groans, body melting into the seat, the warmth of the heater only making the two of you flushed and easily pliable. “I knew it that first time that your pussy was made for me,” he rolls his hips finding any room that he can to give his shallow thrusts, his pelvis pressed to your clit making you blink hard. “Can you feel it?” 

“Yes-” the word a confession as you find your own pace, grinding your hips, finding a rhythm that would have you finishing without much effort, but you know it's because it's him, the way he knows your body, fits you so well. His nails scratching at your clothes, finding a grip so that he can use you as leverage to rock into you, tip pressed right to your g-spot at this angle. 

“You're so fucking perfect, how could I not like you, how could I not think about you and only you,” his puppy dog eyes watching you, his hair a disheveled mess, brows close together as he whimpers again. “Look at you,” his sweet mewls fill up the space, one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his seat as you drag your hips back and forth on him.“So pretty riding my cock so desperately,” 

“I want you to cum for me, please, please,” you can't even keep yourself up anymore, crowding his space, pressing your lips back to his as he takes over, and you know he's cumming the second he starts to tremble, mouth frozen in a moan as you catch the sound in the back of your throat. Your own climax triggered by the sight of his, by the feeling of being so full. He can't even stop himself from using your hips to ride back down on him, wanting to keep you right where you were, full of him in every way. 

You wrap your arms around him, his face tucked into your neck, the light kisses over your still hammering pulse only making it flutter longer than calm down. It's not until you pull back to look at him that you see that hazy smile on his features. “Come home with me? Spend the night,” 

His smile only grows, spreading across the expanse of his face until he's nodding, “I do have a key, maybe I could stay longer than just the night…” his eyes caught on the way you smile right back at him. 

“As long as you want, since I happen to like you, I could keep you around for a long, long time,” both your smiles caught against each other's lips right before he's back to kissing you. 

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @chasingthatjjunie @possum-playground @ch4nn13luv @izzyy-stuff @jellymochii @yeoningz @filmnings want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Aaa back to my origins, I missed writing for Chrollo, he is such an interesting character with some many layers to peel off. Got inspired to write this after doing a lesson for my course where me and my group were discussing about the meaning of life and, y'know, philosophical questions like this would get Chrollo debating for hours just so he could understand his darling opinions.

The room was dimly lit, the only light source was a flickering candle on a worn-out table - the room Chrollo rented this time left to be desired, quaint, old. Shadows danced along the cracked walls, creating an atmosphere that was both claustrophobic and eerie. And you were almost certain that you saw a roach running somewhere. You hated here.

Most of all, you hated him.

Chrollo's dark eyes bore into yours, the intensity of his gaze sending even more chills down your spine. The air as always was thick with tension, one could not have a simple conversation with someone like him im peace.

He leaned forward, his shadows swallowing the light as he let his book rest on the table before turning to look at you again. You could almost see the gears turning on his head. Chrollo was calm and composed but there was something deeply unsettling about him — an aura of danger that lingered just beneath the surface.

Maybe it was his eyes. His very beautiful, mesmerizing eyes that were so similar to two black holes devouring and tainting anything they fell upon. He rested his chin on his hand, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips as he observed you, as he searched through your soul for something only he knew about.

"Entertain me, dear," Chrollo began, his voice smooth, almost gentle, yet laced with a sinister undertone, drumming his fingers against his leg, "What do you think is the meaning of life?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. You hesitated, knowing that your answer could shape the course of this conversation. He liked doing that; giving you something to think about to mold you into who he thinks you should be. Chrollo was unpredictable, his mind a labyrinth of thoughts and intentions that were impossible to decipher, yet you were learning how to read his mannerisms.

If he could read you like an open book, then you should learn and do the same to him. Two can play this game.

He was a man who could kill without remorse, who was used to steal and take without feeling nothing for the victims, even then here he was, asking you to ponder something as profound as the meaning of life. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to curse him; the man who took you from your old life.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I think the meaning of life is… To find s purpose. To create something that gives our existence meaning, whether it's love, art, or even just surviving the challenges we face. Don't you think?"

Chrollo's smile widened, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Purpose, you say? Interesting." He leaned back, crossing his arms as he considered your words. "But what if your purpose is tied to destruction, to chaos because the world failed you? Can that be considered a valid purpose?"

The question sent a shiver down your spine. You knew what he was getting at. Chrollo's life was one of bloodshed and mayhem, his purpose seemingly intertwined with the suffering of others. The thought of justifying such a life made your stomach churn, but you couldn't afford to show weakness.

Sometimes, you mused, Chrollo must think of you like a butterfly strapped to his table while he dissected you.

Or that's how you felt.

"Purpose is subjective," You replied carefully, your voice steady despite the unease creeping through you. "Some might find meaning in creation, others in destruction. But I believe it ultimately comes down to how we perceive our actions and the impact they have on the world around us."

Chrollo's eyes narrowed, the intensity of his gaze becoming almost unbearable. "And what about you?" He asked, his voice soft but deadly serious. "What is your purpose? What meaning do you find in your life?"

The room seemed to close in around you, the air growing colder, more oppressive. You could feel the weight of Chrollo's expectations pressing down on you, as if he was daring you to give the wrong answer. Your mind raced, searching for the right words, the right response that would satisfy him.

"My purpose..." You began, letting your eyes fall to your folded hands. You didn't have one, not anymore at least, he stole that and any chance that you could find it. "My purpose is to live. To experience everything life has to offer, the good and the bad. To find my own path, whatever that may be."

My purpose is to survive you, to kill you. But not yet, dear. You concluded mentally, imitating his tone.

Chrollo studied you in silence, his expression unreadable. The tension in the room was almost suffocating, the silence stretching out until it felt like it would never end. Then, slowly, he nodded, as if accepting your answer — though you couldn't tell if he was satisfied or merely amused.

"An admirable sentiment," He said finally, though his tone was laced with a special kind of amusement. "But remember, the path you choose may not always be under your control, life has a way of steering us in directions we never expected. I'm certain you're quite familiar with this."

Chrollo was a man who thrived on control, on manipulating the lives of others to suit his own ends. It annoyed you greatly that he liked to pour salt over the wound, teasing you about your current predicament.

This time you didn't look away. You held his gaze, refusing to let him see the fear that threatened to consume you. If you were going to survive him, you needed to be strong, to show him that you weren't just another victim.

"I suppose that's true," You replied, forcing a small smile. "But I also believe we have the power to shape our own future, to defy and erase certain aspects of it."

Chrollo's eyes gleamed with a dark amusement, and for a moment, you thought you saw something dangerous flicker in his expression. "Perhaps," He nodded, his voice low and almost mocking. "But remember, in the end, the meaning of life may be nothing more than what we make of it… Or what someone else makes it for us."

The conversation ended with those words, the tension in the room slowly dissipating but leaving behind an unsettling feeling that lingered in your chest. Chrollo rose from his seat, his movements graceful and deliberate. He gave you one last, lingering look before turning to leave, his presence as haunting as ever.

"I'll buy us something to eat, behave yourself in the meantime."

As the door closed behind him, you were left alone with your thoughts, the candle's flame flickering weakly in the darkness. The meaning of life, what did it matter in a world where someone like Chrollo Lucilfer existed, where lives were manipulated and discarded without a second thought?

You couldn't shake the feeling that, in his own twisted way, Chrollo had found his meaning right here and now.

And if he did, if he found his meaning, you didn't want to know what it was.

[enteringdullsville]

I got bored so I made a thing. Modern Nick AU featuring a handful of the child protagonists, a chibified SpongeBob being their chaperone? A summer camp setting, perhaps? With everyone save for Danny, Jenny, and Dora having their ages fudged to be closer?

Sure, why not? From left to right:

Sanjay Patel

He may or may not have snuck Craig into his cabin, and Craig may or may not have started charging people for “sage advice from the talking snake”

Sanjay’s a relatively good kid but kind of a hellion. Manny spends much of his early life in a moral dilemma. Having them be partners seemed like a logical decision

His bowling pin head was really hard to adapt to my usual style without utterly mangling his face, but I think I did alright

Manny Rivera

He’s wearing the boots and scarf from his El Tigre costume

Bessie thinks he’s the coolest thing, but his and Danny’s egos clash almost immediately

This presumably takes place after he’s settled on heroism, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a troublemaker

April O’Neil

She’s quite possibly the only person getting any actual work done in camp

She’s ostensibly the least insane person in the group, but she’s prone to egging on the others’ antics and starting bets on how much things will escalate

Her age has been dropped a couple of years, so she’s often with Lincoln foiling Dora’s whole escape artist routine

Tommy Pickles

Still on his filmmaker career from All Grown Up! He has a lot of footage of a lot of things in a lot of places

Normally mild mannered and agreeable, but being given “strict orders” instantly makes his good mood vanish

His mind tends to wander when he’s bored, and it has no regard for its curfew

Lincoln Loud

He’s a weeb canonically, so he’s been given a vaguely animesque appearance

Whatever camp this takes place at, I can guarantee at least one of his sisters had been there prior. Since most of the characters here are the Everyman type, Linc’s cunning and trickster attributes are played up a bit

Has no regard for the fourth wall. Tommy has no clue what he’s on about and thinks he’s insane

Aang (Just Aang)

Whether or not he can bend is based purely on what’s funniest at the moment, especially since he and Dib make it impossible for this to be canon compliant

He’s definitely living in an AU with a less horrific backstory. Less responsibilities, less issues

Wouldn’t hurt a fly, but he’d definitely give a wasp a warning shot if it was being a jerk

Danny Fenton

Danny, and only Danny, is actually a little older here. He and Jenny are the counselors. Lucky them.

Doesn’t even bother with the secret identity since Bob’s the only one dense enough to not connect the dots

Being able to turn invisible is really helpful when Dib has questions he doesn’t feel like answering

Jimmy Neutron

There he is, officer. That one’s the ringleader

Aang’s existence is a constant source of frustration for him since he can’t come up with a scientific explanation for all…that

He’s right off the heels of Nicktoons Unite and is wondering when and why SB became so serious

SpongeBob SquarePants

The only adult we see at the camp for some reason, and the only nonhuman besides Jenny

I messed up his scaling, he was supposed to be small enough to fit in someone’s hand, hence his overly simplified design. That’s the height he is in-universe

Ironically and disproportionately strong. Not Jenny’s level, but about as strong as he is in Unite…without being adjusted for size. In other words, he can easily pick up and throw the campers like rag dolls

Jenny Wakeman

The only nonhuman kid at camp, as well as the oldest/youngest at 16/5

She’s the one thing stopping land bears from tearing the camp apart

She’s justifiably a little wary since she’s not exactly nature proof, but all the kids think she’s the coolest thing

Timmy Turner

A closer look at him reveals three familiar looking trinkets shaped like a wand, wings, and a floaty crowny thing

He doesn’t need magic, anyway. He’ll make everything possibly go wrong his own way

He and Bessie butt heads almost immediately; Timmy’s fine with one hypercompetent overachieving Girl Scout in his life, but he does not need another

Ginger Foutley

Usually found with fellow artsy types Rudy and Lincoln

Riddled with anxieties and restless leg syndrome. She comes of as brooding, but she’s just introspective

Since April’s a menace, she’s the actual least insane camper

Eliza Thornberry

It took her a bit to realize SpongeBob could actually talk to begin with and that everyone else didn’t have the same power as her. In fact, there’s a non-zero chance there are a bunch of animals from assorted Nick shows that are screaming in the background constantly and it’s messing with her head

I gave her just the one braid to make her distinct from the other Elizabeth in the cast

She slips in and out of her father’s mannerisms. SMASHING!

Rudy Tabootie

Mysteriously disappears to parts unknown it’stheChalkZone every now and then when he needs to blow off some steam

I find it funny how stylized I made everyone else while Rudy’s just slightly taller

SpongeBob sees a lot of himself in the kid. Rudy doesn’t know how to feel about that

Dora Marquez

Y’know, I added her as a joke, and she immediately became my favorite

She’s the youngest kid at her canon age of seven, so she’s coddled by everyone else. She HATES it, given that she’s been adventuring on her own for the longest time, so she’s a lot more cynical than usual. Easily the biggest departure from the norm

Constantly tries to escape supervision in favor of wandering the wilderness, but the talking cheese won’t let her

Arnold Shortman

He doesn’t know how he ended up as the “cool guy”, but he’s not gonna fight it

Appears detached and aloof, but he’s more likely just dissociating

Always seems to know what he’s doing to the point of parody. As smart as he is, I must reiterate he’s just improvising

Dib Membrane

Eliza, Rudy, and especially Timmy aren’t too keen on hanging around him for very obvious reasons

The fact he’s with people who are reasonably sane this time around means he’s in much better spirits. Lincoln’s probably his best friend at the camp, although Dib’s still a loner

He and Jimmy always run the risk of killing each other if they talk for more than two minutes at a time due to differing views on magic

Bessie Higgenbottom

The kid most likely to actually listen to the inane drivel that comes out of SpongeBob’s mouth

Since she’s still working on the whole Mighty Bee thing, she’s all over Manny, Danny, and Janny

There are very few campers that aren’t at least a little intimidated by her

There were a few other characters I wanted to add like Nate Wright (Big Nate), Annie Bramley (It’s Pony), Mikey Munroe (Bunsen is a Beast), but I scrapped them for space.

I elected to only use one character per series, causing me to drop Korra, Sheen Estevez, Ronnie Anne Santiago, and Hazel Wells for being spinoff characters (especially since Sheen and Ronnie Anne were around before getting their own shows). It also forced me to remove Fanboy and Chum Chum from my initial plan entirely.

I additionally wanted to keep SB as the only organic nonhuman character due to the inherent absurdity of having him as the sole adult figure, which is why Dib and April represent their series rather than Zim or a Ninja Turtle and why I chose not to use Harvey Beaks.

[animeyanderelover]

Halloween is almost upon us and so I have decided to write a short something as well. It doesn’t include a specific character though and only focuses on the concept of a siren reader in the world of One Piece. I took the liberty of taking my own spin on the sirens, though there are still known themes in here.

Tw: Yandere themes, sirens are extremely cruel in here, manipulation, hypnosis, sadism, blood lust, sirens play around with their victims for the fun of it, sirens have a human and a monster form, the monster form is going to have very specific physical features, cannibalism, slavery, sexual abuse, violence, mentions of suicide, death, female reader

A reader's origin

You still remember it. Your human life. Yes, once upon a time you used to be a human. One who lived above the sea water, who walked on two legs and one who lived a puny and mortal life. Young, naïve and deeply in love with a sailor who had found his second love in you with his first being the sea and its alluring promise of adventure. You poor maiden, always filled with longing and heartbreak whenever he left you on the island where you had been born and raised to chase his next adventure. Always waiting for him every day on the port, your hopeful gaze focused on the horizon. Your sailor always kept you waiting, the distance only making your heart grow fonder as you waited day and night for your darling’s arrival. Wondering, weeping, moaning for your sailor until he sailed home to you. Weeks or even months sometimes passed as you longed for him, your innocent heart slowly filling with disdain for the sea and all the glittering gold it hid, for stealing your man from you. What a boring and meaningless existence it has been in hindsight.

What a good-natured person you used to be. Your heart filled with longing for your sailor and resentment against the ocean that constantly stole him from you. How many times did you beg your lover to take you with him only for him to laugh at you and tell you that you aren't made for the harsh sea. His comments were hurtful yet there still was a grain of truth in his words that you couldn't deny. Then one day he announces news that nearly break your heart. He plans to sail to the New World, plans to plunge himself into unknown seas that have taken the lives of so many other people before him. You beg him to not go, to stay with you instead of risking his life on seas where he may never return to you. Yet on that day you realise once more that you have never been the one he loves most. His heart belongs to the sea. So you have no choice but to let him go, tears cascading down your cheeks as you watch his ship leaving the ship, disappearing beyond the horizon. The sunset dips the sky in warm colours of red, casting a bloody light upon the ship as it sails away. An eerie forboding for the future that awaits the crew.

Only a few weeks after his crew has left the island they come. Real pirates. They raid the island, steal away all the riches your village possesses, imprison men, women and children alike. You are under those who are enslaved, who spent weeks on a cold and reeking ship where they push you around, where they grope you and mistreat you and everyone else. Weeks you have to spend on deck of the ship, malnourished, dehydrated and abused. Not everyone makes it sadly and those who die due to the mistreatment are thrown into the seawater, damned to serve as food for the sea beasts. You protest, you cry, you plead for them to at least allow the rest of the captured villagers to bury the dead properly only to be thrown around like a ragdoll as they mock you for your desperate pleas. Clothes are torn of your body, your nose is weeping red blood and your lip is busted as the taste of metal fills your mouth. Hands are all over your body, taint your skin and leave you shaking and crying on the dirty ground, the anguished cries of the other villagers filling your ears as the limp corpse is thrown overboard.

You're sold in Sabaody Archipelago to a Celestial Dragon, added to an evergrowing collection of women he buys as if they were souvenirs. To him they most likely are. Every day is torture for you. A collar around your neck that could explode any moment, skimpy clothes that tear away the last shreds of your dignity as you are forced to serve a slimy and disgusting master who touches you whenever he wishes and has a temper worse than a toddler. Something always sets him off even if you did nothing wrong. You're always slapped, grabbed roughly by your growing hair or forced on your knees to serve him pleasure. There is no bond that holds you or the other female slaves together as everyone is focused on her own survival, fingers constantly pointed at each other to avoid the punishment. You do not find it in you to blame them though as you start mimicking the other female slaves, pushing the blame on others and listening with closed eyes as their screams of pain fill the halls. It feels like you're going insane as weeks pass, every day a fight for survival and the bare necessities, a fight for no new wounds and scars.

You barely have any time to think about your lover, too preoccupied with your own survival. Sometimes though he crosses your mind at night when your whole body is aching from the intense labor of the day. You find the love you hold for him slowly dimishing, overshadowed by your own suffering. If only he wouldn't have left for the sea, if only he would have stayed with you and wouldn't have taken all those men with him. Then maybe, maybe, your village would have been able to defend itself better. Then maybe the pirates wouldn't have been able to take so many of you as prisoners. Then maybe you wouldn't have seen them dying or watching as they were sold to different people. Then maybe you wouldn't have to go through the torture that you are now forced to endure. All of that didn't happen though. And why did none of those what-if-scenarios happen? Because you were less important to him than the sea. Your thoughts are selfish and filled with resentment as those black emotions nourish themselves from all your pain and your suffering, tainting your once pure love more and more.

A storm is raging on one fateful night as you and other female slaves are upon a ship as your master has insisted to travel across the oceans of the New World as he has heard about another auction to buy a new female slave as one of his own has recently caved in to all the torture and took her own life. You do not know what happened to her body as you did not belong to the group that was forced to discard her body. You only remember the whiplashs you received as a punishment for her disobedience as her life was not her own and for that she didn't have the right to just kill herself. Truly, as you lay in the tiny room all of the female slaves sleep in with your back still screaming in agony, you wonder what you have turned into for you feel only bitterness for the woman who is responsible for the pain that was inflicted upon you. It's as if any empathy you ever possessed has slowly been stomped out like a dying spark. This is what you have turned into. You do your best to ignore the searing pain in your back as you close your eyes, hoping to at least get some hours of sleep only to wake up and repeat your daily hell.

There's a pleasant buzz drapped within your brain like heavy fog when you awake, sitting up as the rest of the other female slaves. The storm outside has calmed down as if falling silent for those humming melodies coming from everywhere. Your thoughts are slow, your body seemingly not your own as your limbs start moving on their own. The sounds of dragging footsteps are heard everywhere as all people on board start moving outside, even your master. Once outside the strange melody amplifies in volume now that there is nothing shielding you anymore from its sound, the fog within your mind thickening until your slow thoughts completely vanish. Your only desire in that moment is to get closer to that melody, to drown yourself within that sound that seems to erasse every single trace of pain and agony. You're not the only one. One after the other everyone jumps into the water. Once you stand on the edge you catch sight of something that almost stops your heart, your eyes widening subtly as you stare down into the bubbling and dark waters as everyone around you drops into the salty water as if they were stones.

They're slithering around within the water like the predators they are, webbed hands with sharp claws stretched out as they welcome their prey which jumps into the dark waves. Razor sharp teeth are within their mouths as they continue singing with those hypnotising voices of theirs, their eyes completely white, ears shaped like little fins and the skin of their upper body a light grey. Long fish tails in an even darker grey than the skin on their human torso, gills on their necks as they snatch away all those who fall into the waters, grabbing them and dragging them into their kingdom where they will be drowned and devoured. The wind is howling around you, almost drowning out the screams of terror and pain as those creatures start feasting from their prey yet not enough to erase the sound of their voices. You are shaking, whether its due to the biting cold, newfound terror or morbid excitement is unclear. Blotches of red swirl around within the water all around the ship, slashed clothes resurfacing here and there as all former passengers are eaten. There's only you left now, standing there and staring into the abyss which stares right back at you with shimmering white eyes.

The final step you take almost feels liberating as you leave the ship behind, leave every bad memory behind. The few brief seconds where you fall feel freeing before you plunge into the cold water that almost immediately numbs your body. The salty water irritates your eyes as soon as you try to open them, everything around you dark and ominous as you make out the dark silhouttes of the monsters as they drag people deep within the ocean to enjoy their meal. One of them approaches you slowly, her head tilted as if she is observing you. Somewhere within the deepest part of your mind you wonder what creature they are. Mermaids? No, that can't be. The descriptions and rumors that you have heard do not fit those strangely beautiful creatures at all. Clawed hands suddenly touch your cheeks, high-pitched chirps resonating through the sea as she seems to communicate with her sisters all whilst not looking away from you. The emptiness of air within your lungs is but a dull sensation, your mind still strangely serene and peaceful as you listen to the weird chatter of those creatures before your body forces you to refexively gasp for air, water filling your lungs, nose and mouth.

You only have hazy memories. The taste of salty air on your tongue as the she-monster helps you back to the surface. A swarm of them swimming close to the surface, all of them holding other female slaves from the sinking ship close to them, frequently resurfacing to allow you to breathe. Pressure popping in your ears as suddenly they take all of you into a mysterious cave, the entrance deeper within the ocean. You remember that you gasp desperately for air at one point as soon as you resurface, your lower body still in the water. There is mostly darkness around you, not a single ray of light that reaches the underwater cave, only the dim glow of their bodies. Only the sounds of splashing water and other human women gasping and coughing around you. The very last memory that you have is the sensation of being dragged underwater once more, smothered by the cold skin of the sirens who produce slimy and thick threats from their bodies and wrap you inside of them as if it was a coccon before they attach you to the wall within the cave, half of the strange creation still hanging outside the water. After that you barely remember anything as you fall into a deep sleep that is going to last for months.

You dream a lot during that time, revisiting your whole human life as you are shielded within that cocoon. Sometimes you stir awake though when wails of agony and sorrow suddenly fill the cave, telling you that one of the other female slaves hatched too early, their metamorphosis not complete and their body unable to survive under the water. At one point you find yourself weeping along, a strange agony filling your soul, a new compassion for the loss of a potential sister that you never felt before as a human. The feeling of hunger and the wish for freedom is what causes you one day to wake up all by yourself, the tightness around you restricting you and making you uncomfortable. Something compels you to leave, your instincts telling you that it is time. Sharp claws tear into the thick and gooey egg, tearing it effortlessly apart as you create a hole big enough for you to slip out. A light glow emits from your body, your senses completely different. Only freshly hatched yet your instincts seem to already know what to do as you quickly find your way outside the cave, joined by joyful sisters who welcome you as a new sister and invite you to your first hunt. You're the only survivor.

Free to explore the sea all by yourself, your first desire is to find the man who betrayed you but who you still long for. The very sailor who chose the ocean over you. You long to see him, to hold him, to kiss him, to devour him. Unable to deal with your heartbreak anymore you wish to unite with him forever, to never let him leave you ever again. A few of your older sisters follow you, the promise of fresh flesh alluring as they help you to hunt him down if he should still be alive. Luckily he very much is and you expected nothing less from the man you love. You feel your heart trembling with affection and wrath when you spot that familiar ship, you and your sisters slowly swimming closer without being spotted. Still, you wish for him to see you, to see what has become of you since his departure. Only after he has jumped right into your arms do you take him further away, allow him to come to his senses for a little while. A sweet smile on your face, one that quickly transforms into a bloodthirsty grin which reveals a row of sharp teeth, claws stealing his pretty eyes before you slowly drag him down with you, watching the life slowly fade from his body, forever united with the two biggest loves of his life. The sea and you.

Your kind doesn't have any specific name. Not until a few decades after the World Government has been established and accidents surrounding crews disappearing mysteriously from ships in the New World become more frequent. Sirens. No one exactly knows where your kind originated from or for how long you have been existing already, though tales from Fishman-Island suggest that you are related to their kind and therefore have been luring beneath the ocean for a long time already. However, your kind is forbidden to enter Fishman-Island, stories of your kind hunting mermaids and Fishmen alike, toying around with them and playing around with them for fun making the seafolk fear you and your sadistic nature. You feast on flesh from all living creatures, use your voices to lure prey to you and then devour them like starved piranhas. Underwater you are dangerous predators, fast and surprisingly strong. Your voices hynotise your targets, their brains mushy and slow as they fall victim to your songs. Sirens do not only use their voices to bewitch people though. You are also able to release a high-pitched scream which causes everyone who hears it extreme pain.

Those screams can even be enough to kill someone as the sound can cause not only eardrums but even the brain within the head to burst. It is a rare line of defense for your kind to use your voices that way, a last resort if you are cornered or wounded. Your bodies heal faster than other creatures, wounds that may take weeks to months to heal only take you days if you rest enough and receive proper nourishment. Sirens are very closely connected, treating each other as sisters even if everyone is free to travel alone through the oceans. A siren can live up to a millennium before she passes away, looking as beautiful and young as the day she hatched. However, once the life has left the body the remains can rot and unable to bear the heartbreak of your sister withering away into ugliness, your kind has developed a morbid tradition. Once one of your own dies you weep for days and nights, the eerie sounds carried across the seas and keeping entire islands awake in terror and bliss before you feed on her dead body before she can lose her beauty, even devouring her bones so that nothing remains, so that no one may ever take your beloved sisters or her remains away from you.

It is unclear to the Government if your kind procreates. Truth is, none of you has been born from a mother and a father. All of you hatched in the cave from the gooey threads you were wrapped in, creating the cocoon which slowly transformed you into sirens. The Government spectulates that technically it should be possible though for your kind to bear children biologically if you should ever decide to mate with a man. However, it simply doesn't seem to be an instinct installed into your biology. Your kind does feel affection but often only in short-lived sparks with the end goal always being to ultimately feed from your chosen victim. Your kind is even able to transform back into the race they were before being made a siren, allowing you to travel even on land and mix in with the rest. You're almost indistinguishable from other people living above the water from that point on which makes it extremely tricky for people to realise what you really are, especially since sirens naturally attract people to their sides, bewitching without even speaking. Your kind is far from wild animals after all. You are fast learners and your threat levels have only gone up after your kind learned how to use and utilise Haki.

The mere solace for the World Government is that your kind only lives within the New World. Very rarely does a siren travel to Paradise and even if she does, the government proceeds carefully. They never kill one of your kind as they know that other sirens will take merciless revenge if one of their sisters should be murdered. They've learnt it the hard way and that accident remains one of the worst in their history, one that only few know of. In Paradise and other parts of the Blue sirens only remain legends meant to scare children. In the New World however those legends quickly turn into a fearful reality. Still, you are no brainless predators. You do not attack and kill just anyone. Your kind doesn't kill every pirate crew whose ship they spot. You respect those who are strong and who you personally deem intriguing, the golden rule to never get on the bad side of a siren is to never kill one of their sisters and those pirates who disobey that rule learn to pay with their lives. The New World is indeed filled with many new dangers, with some of them more enchanting and tempting than even the finest riches. Yet obtaining such treasure has cost many pirates their sanity, their heart and even their life.

[exculpateinteractivefiction]

"All suffering originates from craving, from attachment, from desire." - Edgar Allan Poe

Exculpate: The Fall from Grace is an upcoming 18+ action packed and fantastical interactive fiction novel. Loosely inspired by media like “My Hero Academia”, “Bungou Stray Dogs”, “Jujutsu Kaisen”, “The X-Men” and “Titans”.

Tags: [Urban Fantasy/Sci-Fi, Romance, Drama, LGBTQIA+, Textbased]

The Astra. In the years after the war it was a name that had grown familiar. A select group of individuals who had gained special abilities after the…incident. They are powerful. They are talented. They are gifted.

And you’re one of them.

Or at least you were around a decade ago. Before you made the mistake.  The type of colossal fuck up that blows up your apparently  flimsy life in a matter of minutes. The kind that has you running away and starting completely over. That kind.

Now instead of using your worthless ability to save people, you are stuck using it for much more…aggressive work. More effective work. Or at the very least work that pays better. The only cost seems to be your sorry excuse for morals. Trading your soul and sense of justice for a paycheck. What could go wrong?

It was manageable. Meaningful even. Something that gave purpose to the now shattered pieces of your life.

Everything was great.

...until you got a hit for the strongest hero in existence. Wonderful.

Play a former hero turned assassin turned…“hero” but not really .

Customize your character’s name, appearance, personality, and gender identity.

Develop a better understanding of your dreadful ability.

Explore and navigate complex relationships with six unique romantic options.

Kill your former best friend and betray old allies and new ones alike!

Come face to face with your past (both the choices you’ve made and the people in it).

Repent for your mistakes…or continue making them.

The Hero (Your Target): Maverick “Mav” Kingston (He/Him)

Maverick Kingston, your current target and the strongest member of Astra. The strongest, period. He is unstoppable - unreachable - unattainable. You would know as his (former) best friend.

Appearance: Maverick is the embodiment of “perfection” and that crosses over into his looks. He is roughly 6’1” and is quite lean. He has vibrant light blue eyes and a head of messy blonde hair that seems to always fall perfectly into place.

Personality: Maverick’s greatest flaw is undeniably his personality. To put it bluntly, he’s the best and he knows it. He manages to come across as nonchalant and egotistical on a good day - often just messing around or teasing both his enemies and coworkers alike, and while he can be quite charismatic, his laidback and annoying disposition tends to steer most people away. Although, you get the feeling that there seems to be something deeper lying beneath the surface even after all these years…

The Strategist: Carmen Reyes (She/Her)

Carmen Reyes, lead strategist of the Astra and to put it bluntly the only one with any common sense. She is an intimidating presence - although that might just be due to her title of the best hand to hand combatant of the Astra. You used to be co-workers and classmates but that was a long time ago.

Appearance: Carmen’s beauty is just another thing that adds to her imposing nature. She is roughly 5’11” and has spent years building up her muscular physique. She has curly dark brown hair that rests just below her chin and surprisingly sharp hazel eyes that seem to track your every move…

Personality: Carmen can be considered reserved and wise at best and completely distant at worst. She has a professional air to her that most officials and authority respect, but it can come across as aloof or boring especially when comparing her to the loud personalities that the rest of the Astra has. That’s not to say she is uncaring though - in fact she is arguably the most moral of the group - or at least she was back when you were a member…

The Heart: Silas Jones (He/Him)

Silas Jones, arguably the kindest member of the Astra. He’s excitable and naive - if not a bit endearing. He tends to act as the mediator between the public and the other members of the Astra when necessary. You don’t remember being particularly close with him back when you were in the Astra so it’s surprising how desperately he seems to want your attention now…

Appearance: Silas is roughly 5’8” and has dark brown skin with glowing silver marks scattered across his body. He has black locs that have been dyed red at the tips and dark brown eyes that seem to pull you in wherever you go…

Personality: Silas is easily the nicest of the group and can be quite soothing especially compared to the harsher personalities of the other members and higher ups of the Astra. He is incredibly open and energetic, if not a bit naive. He cares very deeply for the people around him and that clearly extends to you even after all these years. It does make you wonder why he is so interested though…

The Healer: Juno Aceso (She/Her)

Juno Aceso, head of the healing and medical department at Astra. She isn’t what most people expect when they hear the words “doctor” but she is a breath of fresh air compared to the rest of the group. You were close with her back when you were in the Astra…or at least as close as you can be with someone like her.

Appearance: Juno is roughly 5’5”. She has deathly pale skin and dark eyebags that frame her murky green eyes. Her straight chestnut colored hair lands right at her chest, though she usually keeps it up in a bun.

Personality: If Carmen is distant and Maverick is nonchalant then Juno is on a whole other level. She is practically apathetic with her laidback nature and tends to be quite removed from everyone else. That’s not to say she has no personality though. She can be incredibly snarky and sarcastic when she wants to be. Unsurprisingly, she seems the least invested in your return. Although you get an odd feeling whenever she glances your way…

The Star: Payton Monroe (They/Them)

Payton Monroe is nothing if not a star. They embrace the celebrity status that comes with being a member of the Astra with open arms. You weren’t particularly close with them back when you were in the Astra but you heard the rumors of their exploits…

Appearance: Payton is roughly 5’7” and seems to make it their life’s goal to make themself as appealing as possible. They have ivory colored skin and dazzling lavender eyes. Their hair is shoulder length and white with streaks of pink going through it.

Personality: Payton is someone who has no issue embracing the finer things in life. They are far more interested in the public image aspect of being a member of the Astra and that comes across in nearly every interaction. While they are quite flirtatious, they seem to hold no interest in pursuing an actual relationship. Maybe you’ll be the one to change that…

The Newbie: Amari Gray (Gender Selectable)

Amari Gray, the newest member of the Astra. Not much is known about them - they joined after you left and they don’t seem exactly interested in getting to know you. They tend to be annoyed with you more often than not but you get the feeling that they are that way with most people. Although, their constant avoidance towards you specifically is quite odd…

Appearance: Amari is roughly 5’3”. They have tan skin and sharp gray eyes that seem to be set in a perpetual glare. They have thick white hair that is currently styled as a short undercut. They have a few piercings and tattoos.

Personality: You don’t know much about Amari but one thing you do know is that they don’t like you. They are either actively avoiding you or are going out of their way to pick fights with you. They seem incredibly familiar which makes their determination on making your life miserable even weirder…

DEMO TBA

[slackerlifewhere]

Cale does not know everything

Why did anyone think he did?

[Note: There will be SPOILERS about the first part of TCF so if you haven't finished the first part or you don't want spoilers, I suggest you don't continue. Thanks!]

When I first read the novel, the most common mistake new readers often make was they all thought that Cale is omniscient and because he knows everything, it's inevitable that he'll be OP. "Which is the same boring cliche KR novels and manhwa are nowadays." Yeah, I saw the comments. There were a lot.

I think, once again, it's because of how in most KR novels and manhwa, the main character usually knows the whole story of a novel they read or a game they played before they transmigrate to another world. They don't have all the details but it's more than what Kim Rok Soo knows.

Because that's the thing. The difference is that Kim Rok Soo doesn't know the whole story. In fact, he only read up until five volumes of "The Birth of a Hero" before he transmigrated in another world.

He, like us, doesn't know how the story ends.

I might be getting repetitive but the reason why I love TCF is because the author, Yoo Ryeo Han, doesn't share everything to us right off the bat.

They never info dump us with the whole story about how OG Cale actually made a deal with the God of Death, about Kim Rok Soo's past as an ability user, about Choi Jung Soo, and about the existence of the White Star. Instead, all these plot points are gradually revealed later in the story.

And I honestly prefer it like this. This way, we can only guess what will happen next. It's not a boring story but a mysterious one because there's something we won't expect.

The story starts with Kim Rok Soo opening his eyes in another world.

We are never completely told what Kim Rok Soo read before he transmigrated. The most he tells us is a summary and a few details here and there at the start of the novel.

We only find out more by experiencing it through Cale's point of view. We read his thoughts about the novel. And we follow him in his journey around the Eastern and Western continents.

But as mentioned at the beginning, he doesn't know how The Birth of a Hero ends. His knowledge stops at the end of volume five. Everything else depends on him.

But even before the war happens, there are already some hints that Cale doesn't actually have all the information he needs. He is not fully equipped with everything about the book. He, like us, is in the dark about certain factors that can affect his goals.

Indestructible Shield

When the shield was first mentioned, Cale questioned why no one took it.

'No wonder nobody ended up taking control of it. But then why would the author mention something that could be useful but was never actually taken by anybody?’

- Chapter 11: Picked It Up

It's odd because it's found in the territory where Choi Han appears in the beginning of the story. Yet from volume one to volume five, not a single soul knew of its existence.

It's the first ancient power he gets because he read the book and he's the only one who knows about it. He doesn't know why it's there, he doesn't know why no one took it, nor does he question it any further. His only goal was to get it.

It's only when the Glutton Priestess tells him about her past that he finally gets the bigger picture.

The fact that this tidbit was shrugged off by Cale, and probably some readers, as something unimportant only to find out later in the story about its huge connection to the original White Star is just insane. And it's the reason why the books he read aren't informative at all. Because why did it leave out this piece of information if they want him to use it to save their world?

He didn't even know a single thing about the current White Star at the start of the story and here is a random ancient power sitting prettily in the Henituse territory that actually has a connection to the same guy Cale Barrow wants to imitate. He was utterly clueless like the rest of us.

I'm not gonna lie, I was shaking my head by how dumbfounded I was when I first read the novel. I was questioning everything I read in the early chapters, thinking if there's something else that I didn't notice (there were a lot actually).

The fact that the author gives us only a little info about the tree where the shield was found and its connection to the other ancient powers only solidified my respect by how good the author is at hiding this plot until the big reveal.

The Wolf Tribe

‘The novel didn’t say which of the divine items they brought.’

If Cale knew what the divine item was, he would be able to get one step closer to the identity of the secret organization. Unfortunately, the novel only described how the Wolf Tribe became weak because of the divine item. He had no way to determine the identity of the secret organization.

- Chapter 32: You

When Cale sends Choi Han to find Rosalyn and Lock, Choi Han returns with Lock who was about to transform into his berserk mode.

Later, Choi Han explains what happened and Cale realizes that a lot of things changed compared to what happened in the book. For one, Lock did not hide and fought back against Arm. Another is instead of assassins, the ones that appeared are official members.

For some, including me, this can be excused because of Cale's actions. He's a new variable to the story and thus, he ends up changing a lot of scenarios that happened in the story.

But, thinking about it, this is the only thing that is completely different from what happened in the books. Everything else is the same aside from when Cale is actively doing something like becoming a guardian to three kids or getting the ancient powers that originally belongs to someone else. Unless Cale acts, nothing actually changes.

There's the bombing at the plaza that also changed but that can still be excused as Cale ruining Arm's movements early on and them revising their plans.

Lock however, is not influenced by Cale. He could've stayed hidden just like in the book but in this case, he didn't. Arm could've sent assassins but they didn't. There is no reason for them to change from assassins to official members. Plus, instead of killing all of them, the wolf children survived.

This is not because of Cale.

So...does that mean that the book he read is not completely reliable?

Pretty much, yeah. Which already answers the question if he knows everything like a cliche main character does. No, he doesn't know everything. And the books he read can be taken as a guidebook but an incomplete one with a few mistakes here and there.

Let me remind you that this happened before the war started and there's already something Cale doesn't know or expect.

[Side note: I only realized this whole bit about the Wolf Tribe while reading a freaking reaction fic. If I had not read that fic, I wouldn't even realize how weird this one is. Am I dumb? Don't answer that.]

White Star

Another reason why Cale is not omniscient even though he looks and acts like it, is because he didn't find out about the White Star until the war against Arm and the Indomitable Alliance.

This man is like a god to his followers and allies and not a single person in Cale's group and even outside of it knows about him. Not even Ron, who has his whole family annihilated and later loses his arm in the process, knows about him.

Again, the five volumes of The Birth of a Hero never mentions this elusive White Star. The only reason he knows about this guy is through interrogation and torture. So when he finally appears in the Mogoru Empire, all Cale felt was anger and fear.

Because this unexpected factor is dangerous.

Cale knows they're completely unprepared to face this new player in the game. Eruhaben, an ancient dragon, was getting his ass kicked by this man who suddenly appeared out of nowhere and the dragon even told them to run. What everyone considers a very strong existence in this world is telling them that there's no hope in defeating him.

And the most shocking out of all of this is that Cale never expected how the White Star knows that Cale and Choi Han have their "time warped for them". He knows something about Cale just by looking at him.

So the books by this point are basically useless and he has to rely on himself and others to plan ahead of time. He works extremely hard for it.

He has to dig information using his Record to find out about White Star. He has to talk to the World Tree to get the weapon to use against the White Star. He has to talk to Sheritt to know more about the White Star and his curse. And he has to find out from OG Cale himself on how to finally kill the White Star.

It took the whole book to finally defeat him.

And none of these are mentioned in the books he read.

So Cale, in conclusion, does not know everything like what some readers once complained about. He has some pieces of the puzzle but it's like if he needs a hundred pieces to complete the puzzle and he only has ten, then he's never gonna complete it.

He knew about the first five volumes and the rest were just him and his allies' hard work. It's pretty much why he's so stressed in the whole book, zooming around the two continents just to look for the White Star's weakness while also juggling different problems like more wars or the God of Despair or finding the earth attribute the White Star needs.

So yeah. Don't judge a book by the first few chapters and expect to know everything.

end notes:

Alberu better give him his slacker life when this story ends.

Nelan Barrow and the God of Death really made him work for it.

I'm not gonna lie, I want someone (Cale) to kidnap Choi Jung Gun and interrogate him about why the heck he didn't explain the important bits in his "guidebook" and why the whole thing about the wolf tribe became different from what was written. He could've at least mentioned what the secret organization's name is but he left it to Cale instead. It's just the name, CJG. Why are you hiding it? Is Choi Han in the books really that slow or what? If you want someone to save your world, at least send more information like the name of the secret organization. You talked about the Indestructible Shield's location but can't spell Arm? Shame on you, CJG.

If it wasn't KRS that was transmigrated and it's just a random normal person, that person would've died even before meeting the White Star.

Or maybe Nelan Barrow just wants to be an author like Yoo Ryeo Han and be all mysterious about it.

[tossawary]

I'm reviewing episode transcripts from "Merlin" to build up my worldbuilding document (character list, mostly) and, a little ways into S2, I'm kind of feeling like the show is actually quite mean to Arthur as a character sometimes? S1 E14: "To Kill the King" is one of those episodes where I forget how badly it pissed me off until I run into it again.

Like, don't get me wrong, Arthur can be a bully, entitled, hotheaded, and reckless, but he's also at this point risked his own life to save people multiple times. Both individuals whose lives were "worth less" than his own (getting the Mortaeus flower for a poisoned Merlin, smuggling Mordred out of the city, protecting Ealdor from bandits) and also Camelot as a whole (fighting the plague-causing monster in the sewers, fighting the mam-eating griffin, drinking poison to lift the unicorn curse).

Arthur is giving me vibes of being both bored and frustrated (and probably not able to name those feelings or exactly why he has them) because he wants so badly to do good things, but he's not really sure how to go about it because (no one ever tells him anything, he almost NEVER knows what's really going on to make informed choices, and) he's also stuck under the thumb of his tyrannical father, who spends most of their scenes together berating Arthur for being too merciful, for not being dutiful enough, and/or not finding sorcerers for execution fast enough. When Arthur tries to be fair-minded and compassionate, Uther often essentially tells him that he's going to be a weak king with that attitude.

Arthur's pathways to betterment are limited, his parent and role model and boss here is an AWFUL person, but he's trying!

So, it's quite frustrating to get to this one episode where characters like Gaius (extremely biased, admittedly, clearly not an objective individual) are saying things like: "Arthur's not ready. The responsibility would be too great. Brave though he may be, he lacks experience, he lacks judgement."

Like, I don't know, Arthur may be only 21 and kind of a dipshit, but I personally think he'd still do a better job than the guy who tried to kill a kid (Mordred) just for existing a few episodes ago? Maybe? Gwen's father, who wasn't even a sorcerer or knowingly working with one, is dead explicitly because of Uther's awful laws. Did everyone in this episode forget that Uther tried to BURN GWEN ALIVE AT THE STAKE not that long ago (Episode 3)?

ARTHUR: "[Morgana]'s right, Father. You hear the word magic, you no longer listen."

UTHER: "You saw it for yourself. She used enchantments."

ARTHUR: "Yes, maybe. But to save her dying father, that doesn't make [Gwen] guilty of creating a plague. One's the act of, of kindness, of love, the other of evil. I don't believe evil's in this girl's heart."

UTHER: "I have witnessed what witchcraft can do. I have suffered at its hand. I cannot take that chance. If there is the slightest doubt about this girl, she must die or the whole kingdom may perish."

ARTHUR: "I understand that."

UTHER: "One day you may become King. Then you will understand. Such decisions must be made. There are dark forces that threaten this kingdom."

ARTHUR: "I know. Witchcraft is an evil, father. So is injustice. Yes, I am yet to be King, and I don't know what kind of king I will be, but I do have a sense of the kind of Camelot I would wish to live in. It would be where the punishment fits the crime."

UTHER: "I fear you're right. She's played with fire, and sadly she must die by fire."

When the adult druid (Cerdan) accompanying Mordred is killed (Episode 8), Arthur objects afterwards! On his own! While Arthur is sometimes an active participant in Uther's tyranny and otherwise complicit, he's been told all of his life that magic is inherently evil and corrupting, he was raised by the very man spreading this hateful philosophy, he should probably hate magic more than anyone after Uther, and yet he still disagrees with Uther's methods and judgments. Even though Uther is apparently VERY willing to lock both his son (Episode 4) and his ward (Episode 8) in the dungeons for disagreeing with him and disobeying him!

ARTHUR: The Druid was only in Camelot to collect supplies. He meant no harm. Is it necessary to execute him?

UTHER: Absolutely necessary. Those who use magic cannot be tolerated.

ARTHUR: The Druids are a peaceful people.

UTHER: Given the chance, they would return magic to the kingdom. They preach peace, but conspire against me. We cannot appear weak.

ARTHUR: Showing mercy can be a sign of strength.

UTHER: Our enemies will not see it that way. We have a responsibility to protect this kingdom. Executing the Druid will send out a clear message. Find the boy. Search every inch of the city.

Obviously, running a kingdom is complicated! Uther apparently won Camelot by conquest and is in conflict with many of the neighboring kings, including Odin and Cenred, and likely has more of the respect of the local nobility than young Arthur does. Uther's death would create some instability! (Agravaine de Bois hasn't been created yet, but let's assume there are many other potential vultures.)

But the show generally isn't pushing that angle. This isn't really about smooth transitions of power. Personally, concerning Arthur's "lack of judgment", I do find his ready conviction that it is his duty to die for Camelot's honor if necessary (he says as much to Merlin explicitly before fighting Valiant in Episode 2, then again before fighting the Black Knight in Episode 9) more than a little concerning, but that doesn't seem to be angle pushed here either.

The show has characters (Merlin, Gwen, Gaius) suggesting that offing the King, who regularly kills innocent people whether they have magic or not, who has forbidden use of the tool that might have saved innocent people from Nimueh's plague or the wraith of Tristan de Bois, would be wrong! It would be murder and murder is bad! It would make (in the words of a grieving Gwen) her "just as bad" as him.

Even though Merlin has at this point already killed Aulfric and Sophia (Episode 7), as well as Mary Collins (Episode 1) because they were trying to kill Arthur. And arguably got an assist with Valiant (Episode 2). And will kill many more as the show goes on. This conversation with Kilgharrah in S1 E14 is in many ways so, so funny:

KILGHARRAH: Well, young warlock, what is it you come to ask of me?

MERLIN: I need your help.

KILGHARRAH: Of course you do, but this time, will you heed my words?

MERLIN: The sorcerer Tauren is plotting to kill the King. He's made an ally of Morgana. I don't know what to do!

KILGHARRAH: Do��� nothing.

MERLIN: What do you mean? If I do nothing, Uther will die.

KILGHARRAH: Don't you want Uther dead? It is Uther that persecutes you and your kind, Merlin. It is Uther that murders the innocent…

MERLIN: But surely that doesn't make it right to kill him.

KILGHARRAH: Only if Uther dies can magic return to the land. Only if Uther dies will you be free, Merlin. Uther's reign is at an end. Let Arthur's reign begin. Fulfil your destiny!

[The dragon flies off.]

MERLIN: Wait! Where does it say my destiny includes murder?

KILGHARRAH: Free this land from tyranny, Merlin! Free us all!

I feel for Kilgharrah here. He was VERY straightforward. I don't know how he could have been clearer about this.

I won't say that Merlin's character writing doesn't make ANY sense here (I do think the character writing in this show is NOT amazingly consistent), because... he IS being influenced by Gaius, who is, unfortunately, a bootlicker and also probably extremely traumatized by all of the death he's seen (big contributor of the bootlicking) (also, apparently Gaius only becomes a "freeman" at the end of Episode 6, so there's that). And Merlin is also being heavily influenced by Arthur, who loves his father, despite everything. For Arthur's sake, if no one else's, Merlin will go out of his way to save Uther. Sure! That tracks!

Merlin spends a lot of time in this show protecting a terrible status quo under some assumption that Camelot will... somehow suddenly become better under Arthur? Instead of perhaps eventually just trusting Arthur and talking to him after their years of knowing each other? There are several, in-world reasons for this and I don't think they're all unrealistic! It's tense! It's thrilling sometimes!

(Though I am ultimately a little annoyed that Merlin's many secrets never really come out and get dealt with by the characters, because that would have been fun drama and some resolution to all the tension, even if the story did still end in death.)

There's some tasty tragedy in this silly show, in many ways. Merlin is confused and conflicted and scared and without clear guidance in many ways. Kilgharrah is mysterious and not at all reassuring. Gaius is complacent and (very reasonably) incredibly secretive. Merlin doesn't get to see many of the moments where Arthur speaks up for magical people and tries to talk Uther down. Morgana and Arthur are both stuck here in a "The hands that cradled you are covered in an unimaginable amount of blood." "But they cradled me, yes?" nightmare scenario. (There's also a sexist element where male characters like Gaius and Merlin won't let Morgana know about her own powers "for her own good" in a gaslight-y way that's fascinating to me in how it creates a villain.)

But, also, the compelling tragic elements here don't make certain episodes any less frustrating to watch in their execution. (I don't think villains being frustrating to watch or read necessarily makes them effective villains, especially when what I really find annoying here is the heroes' reactions to the villain. Uther has killed SO MANY PEOPLE! FOR NO REASON!) Especially when a lot of the overall results of this show often feel more accidental than purposeful. I do understand why the writers keep Uther around! He's a formidable antagonist to have looming all over the place and the actor is fun.

But OOF, I felt that "Do... Nothing".

Merlin! MERLIN! LISTEN TO THE SCARY DRAGON! MERLIN, REMEMBER THAT TIME UTHER TRIED TO BURN GWEN ALIVE??? JUST BECAUSE GWEN IS TOO NICE TO GO AFTER UTHER WITH A KNIFE AND TAKE REVENGE, IT DOESN'T ACTUALLY MEAN KILLING HIM MAKES YOU "JUST AS BAD"!!! MERLIN!!! YOU HAVE ALREADY MURDERED MULTIPLE PEOPLE WHO KILLED WAY LESS PEOPLE THAN UTHER!!!

In Episode 4, Morgana says to Uther: "You can't chain [Arthur] up every time he disagrees with you." This implies to me that Uther has had Arthur thrown in the dungeons before. In Episode 3, Arthur says to Morgana: "Father will slam us both in chains if he knew I'd endangered you," and maybe he wasn't at all joking with that? Arthur is rattling the bars of his cell here, apparently fairly ready to be aimed wherever Merlin points him, bucking against being aimed at innocents by his tyrant of a father.

But nooo, Gaius says Arthur is "not ready yet" because...??? He seems less hotheaded than Uther to me, honestly. Are his tax policies not up to par yet? You can hire a guy for that. Suggesting that Arthur would be in any way worse than His Majesty "Anyone Who Talks To A Sorcerer Gets Executed Even If They Didn't Know They Were A Sorcerer" feels quite mean to Arthur, really. I think he'd do alright, in comparison, Gaius who lies to the King every single day, but I suppose you sometimes want to be a loyal friend to good ol' King "Made Merlin Drink Poison That One Time And Wouldn't Let Anyone Go Get The Cure". Good for you. Bad for everyone else.

Like, I know, I know this show is not very deep. I like that all of the characters are flawed and fumble a lot! I even kind of enjoy that it ultimately ends in death with so many loose emotional threads. It is a weekly burst of fantasy nonsense that is not especially concerned with consistency in worldbuilding or characters from episode to episode. But the executive discrepancies here are, like the ones in "Star Wars", weirdly fascinating with all of the holes and wobbly bits it creates.

This show: "Yes, our hero has once again saved the tyrannical king who kills innocents! Preventing the oblivious prince from assuming the throne and trying to do better as he so clearly wants to do! Good work, Merlin, taking the high road (which involved murdering the rightfully angry people trying to kill the tyrannical king) again!"

Me, every time: "...I am genuinely not sure how the show wants us to interpret this. What did they think they were doing with this? Was this always meant to be a tragedy from the first season? Because personally, I'm getting some kind of tragedy from this."

[doll3tt33]

୨ৎ Kai Anderson SFW headcanons

Gonna start doing headcanons for the evans in between making bots cuz I’m bored lol. If you ever wonder how I perceive these characters while I make bots, then here you go!

A handful of these are just plain observations and maybe to some these are clear as day, but idk imma still include them either way

Warnings: misogyny.. duh, loaaads of Reddit mentions

• This might be indisputably obvious, but I feel like some ppl think of Kai as someone who always plans 10 steps ahead, which I personally don’t think so

Yes, he does have a goal in mind, but a lot of his “next moves” are just ideas that came to him in a fleeting moment. Of course, he’ll act as if he totally knew what he was doing this whole time, even though he was def freestyling 💀

I feel like calling him out on his lack of meticulous planning would be an absolute jab to his ego, and he’ll deny it big time

• Kai is the embodiment of what it means to be a pseudo-intellectual 😭😭. Like he isn’t stupid at all, no doubt about that (mans manipulated crowds). But his arrogant attitude, his shameless use of fallacies, AND the fact he’s a walking contradiction - all while trying to act like he’s the smartest guy in the room?? Bye-

Again, I think he’s smart but don’t tell me he doesn’t act like your average pseudo-intellectual guy who’d mansplain 24/7

• His tolerance to spicy food is actually weak, but he pretends like it isn’t. He could be coughing his lungs out from the tiniest hint of spice in his food, but he would refuse to drink a glass of milk to cool down. HES A MAN

• This is already kinda a given, but mans speech mannerisms is literally like the average Reddit comment section ((iykyk

I also feel like a rant he posted online has been made into a copypasta at some point lol

• Speaking of Reddit.. whenever he gets into an argument with another user on there (most likely a politically charged one), he’ll downvote every existing comment from that user and will proceed to do it to any of their future comments by keeping tabs on their account, all out of sheer spite

• He likes weird porn genres. Idk which ones exactly, but I just know they be really specific

• Says he likes submissive, obedient women whose sole existence is to serve him. But at the same time, he can’t stand people he deems as vapid, and would dispose of them once he begins to see them as more of a liability than an asset (especially if they’re just THAT annoying). He definitely would rather keep someone around who has more substance

• Kai would play devil’s advocate for any corrupt figure you could think of. He’s like… that guy

• This is also a given, but I’d like to stress that people don’t know how r/theredpill was his holy bible. The Kai we know today has applied all the must-know tips to his entire character and mastered the arts of misogyny 101

Oh and he has a bunch of motivational posts saved from there, and he rereads the crap out of them each time a “fEmAle” would piss him off

• If you knew Kai prior to his cult and were genuinely nice to him, he’d definitely have a teensy-weensy soft spot for you and would avoid killing you ((unless you end up in a situation like winter’s, cuz then…💀

You’d be like the Jean to his Patrick Bateman! 😭

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

A true king

...king? No. Mephisto would never acknowledge that bastard Derkila as king. He wasn't worthy of such a title.

As far as he was concerned, Derkila was just a fool. A jester playing the role of king. Clowns like him get bored easily. And it seems he was right because Derkila had gotten bored and simply vanished.

It was no real surprise to the demon that this had happened. He figured it would happen eventually. While everyone else focused on the past and trying to get that spoiled demon to come back Mephisto chose to focus on the future.

Derkila was not what the netherworld needed. Who would want a selfish ruler that came and went when he pleased? One who left behind all responsibilities to do as he wished.

No. That wouldn't do at all. Hell seemed to collapse on itself when that neanderthal left. Cast into darkness. A stage awaiting the main character.

But no, silly sully and other thirteen crowns claimed he'd come back. Well, if that ever did happen, he'd be in for a rude awakening. One can't just abandon their post and expect it to remain empty after all.

Once upon a time, Mephisto had thought that Derkila might had made a good king. But that all changed with a single sentence. Sending his hope and dreams of the future crashing down.

The audacity! The disrespect! Why it nearly drove the king maker into insanity. Making him feel irrelevant and replacing him with unqualified spoiled imps!

Mephisto still grinds his teeth at the memory of that awful day. But it would all change soon. He had his own plans to witness.

Mephisto would choose a new king. He would mold him and guide him into being the perfect leader. Sheading the darkness from hell and casting it into a new light.

This new king would be different. A king who would not leave anything or anyone behind. Embracing new ideas and cherishing traditions. A king who doesn't just throw orders but one who listens.

Hundreds of years pass by, and mephisto still hasn't found the perfect king yet. So many demons but none seemed to be a good choice.

Too arrogant, too selfish, too violent, mm that one's a pushover. The quest for the perfect king took a toll on him. But he just had to find them. He knew they existed.

To his surprise, he found his candidate in the most unlikely places. Sullivan's grandson. He had been curious at first. Who wouldn't be?

That child who popped out of nowhere and gained ground at an unusual speed. That child who seemed to draw in powerful demons like a siren luring sailors.

Now, he'll admit, he was intentionally planning on failing the kid during his test. He had made it super easy to fail. Yet somehow he hadn't.

Iruma had somehow managed an endless amount of surprises. Calling his two companions as his help item, denying the title of king of the many ears. Building a school, teaching magic. Farming.

Even promoting those damn carrots with mephisto's own face. Damn that punk had some nerve. It made the thirteen crowns member laugh whenever he saw the poster.

The most shocking thing, however... was this brats resolve. Going as far as to pierce his arrow into a shield made by Amy clan member. Destroying that wall... amazing!

How ot sent a rush through the old demons soul. His blood pumping. Finally, finally his search was over. He had found his king. A true king!

[istharoth]

In love with a 2-D Character?! Sinostra Edition!

Blurb: In which you are a character in a popular game the Tokyo debunker boys are coincidentally in love with.

CW: Mentions of Organ Harvesting in Taiga's section.

↪ Taiga Hoshibami:

He doesn't play games. Next.

JKJK he only plays for the gacha aspect and gets annoyed when he doesn't have any more to pull.

Streamer Taiga? In this AU yes. Streamer Taiga who does absolutely insane things + says out of pocket things but doesn't get cancelled because people think that's his humour.

Taiga: "Lmao, last week I harvested organs." His fans: "OMG TAIGA YOU'RE SO FUNNY! WAS IT BLOODY!?" Also Taiga: *wants to explain the full thing but forgets so he just laughs it off*

So he plays the game right, he's bored as hell, he chooses a random character and then he sees you in the prologue.

You're bloodied up for sexy reasons and you're trying to kill him? That's his type, he loves those angry people who try to kill you, maybe you're a bit greedy too?

Geneunely regrets not choosing you in the selection screen but forgets about your existence just as quick, until you re-appear in the fourth chapter.

Pulls on every banner, does not care who the character is, he just wants to test his luck.

Has insane streamer luck, and luck in general. Is the type of streamer who does pulls on his viewer's accounts and to mess with them, he deletes a high-levelled artefact for fun.

His fanbase knows they have to say goodbye to the artefact to get the character lol

He doesn't remember you for the most part, he just knows you're relevant to the lore of the game.

Maybe has one or two merch items his fans gave him but he forgets who you are.

↪ Romeo 'Fico' Scorpius Lucci:

Adds him into the does not play games list.

Judges every character in the selection screen because Rui will not stop yapping about the game he's playing.

But who is he to judge? His last name is literally a play on Gucci.

You're a satisfactory character, in terms of design, so he picks you.

He's the type to have two accounts, has one for you, his side account, and his other account mains the character you torment, that's his main. [In this case Kaito's favourite character]

Doesn't spend money on the game because he thinks it's unnecessary, though he's easily annoyed when he doesn't get a character. Romeo: SIH [Shrivel in Hell] WTF [What the fuck] RIH [Rot in Hell] CHBB [Come home, you Basic Bitch!]

That's what goes down every time he pulls on his accounts. The last one is meant for his main account, he could never call you BB. You're him, he is you.

Romeo will go out of his way to have the clothes you wear custom-made for himself because he likes them so much.

If you mention a brand in-game, be it perfume or makeup, he's going to search for the equivalent of the irl one and get it.

Also isn't much on merch, might have a few of your jewelry statements and clothes but that's about it.

↪ Ritsu Shinjo

Why is everyone in Sinostra in the does not play games category?

But he'll play it because peer pressure always works.

Is the type of player who focuses too much on the story and if laws are mentioned, he's going to write threads on if they're wrong or right.

Might sue the game company if they're wrong. [nah he won't, I'm just exaggerating.] He understands the concept of fictional and real so i doubt.

selects you because you're the most normal based on the character selection screen.

He thinks he isn't big on merch, but no, he's a collector. You know those standees of characters outside events people steal sometimes? Yeah, he's going to get Taiga to steal them, but in a way that makes them unpunishable by law.

Won't go buy a body pillow but a cardboard cutout is a must. If you have a fan club, he's going to rise up the ranks and would likely be in the single digits of the fandom.

He likes them underrated characters frfr.

Prev [Jabberwock] Next [Hotarubi]

[velvet-vox]

The russian worker drones family; murder drone's greatest small scale tragedy.

As long as I can recall there has never been in my mind a story quite as painful and heartbreaking and yet quite as engaging as the tragedy of Doll, Yeva, and her husband, who's lack of a clear name doesn't detract from the impact of this story or the death of the other two.

The last time such an emotional impact was left in my brain was with Noximilliem Coxen the Watchmaker from Wakfu, who I will assuredly make a comparison post with Doll, as they both hit extremely similar themes and ideas while still having such different execution and story beats that it almost makes you question why would you even compare them in the first place.

Tragedy is deceptively hard to write right and make meaningful, as just crippling your characters won't do, because at that point it just becomes drama porn and as boring as a low effort pre-schoolers program. Seemingly unfeasible in a show such as Murder Drones; an horror/comedy/romance where an abused child repaired and made friends with a robot only for said robot to cause the destruction of her planet and... something else.

Buckle up cause these robots emotions might not even be considered real inside the fictional setting but our pain allows what would otherwise be a pretty standard horror scenario to transcend into the bane of my existence as we take a look at the small, inconsequential tale of the russian worker drones family.

Yeva

Starting off with Yeva as the oldest member of our family in terms of chronological relevance, we get our first peek into the way this story plays out due to Yeva being seemingly mute by choice or programming, which retroactively sets up the storytelling method used; Yeva doesn't speak a single word in this scene or the one that precedes it, but we still get a clear rendition of her character by her standoffish behaviour juxtaposed with her caring and nurturing nature, it's debatable whether or not her and Nori are sisters, but you wouldn't be blamed for thinking that judging by the way Yeva tends to Nori after the banishment of the solver, being chained up and experimented upon didn't stop her from staying positive in the midst of adversity and could theoretically be the reason why she was the only correctly patched drone in the facility.

During the V attack she sacrificed her own life in order to protect Doll. An act that, in the long run, ended up being whortless, but that cemented Yeva has an unyielding positive influence in a world stormed by negativity and death.

The father

We know jack s##t about this man but that won't stop us from analysing him. The most interesting things about him are his relationship with Yeva and the fact that the picture of V seen in episode 2 was made by him. He's, admittedly, a white canvas for head cannons, but thematically he keeps a recurring motif that this post will touch upon in his final entry:

Doll

And now, for the crown jewel of this family. The protagonist's dark reflection. Not many people can claim to have been messed up as hard as Doll was. Sure, death is still death, but with it comes a certain sense of finality and rest. Instead, by contrast Doll's death is so brutal and devastating because although it's something that she has been calling upon herself since she started to consume other drones for her goals, it's just so heartbreaking because she managed to achieve absolutely nothing despite being one step forward everyone else in the story; she never got better, never reademned herself, made their parents sacrifice worthless, died almost entirely off camera completely alone and scared, and as her last compensation act she managed to give Uzi a barely useful warning before having her probably still alive consciousness eaten by an eldritch atrocity. At the end of the day, she was deemed worthless by the main antagonist and quickly brushed aside.

And we go back to a certain reoccurring theme regarding this family: Yeva never speaks. Her husband is never given a name. Doll is literally a toy name. Their story plays out in the shadow of the main plot. Every single aspect regarding them paints their existence as worthless and inconsequential (classic eldritch horror), yet are given enough spotlight to leave an impact on us, to have their presence felt, and to give us the impression that, despite their bad luck, if they only took certain decisions in certain key moments, maybe they would have survived and received a much better ending than the one they got.

Want more?

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Hiii!! I hope your having a good day so far. I was wondering if you still write for your oc Charlie? And if you do, Can I request for a darling who likes to bake and do baking to past time or to do when bored? Maybe you can also add him eating some of her bakings👀 I hope its not to much of a bother!

Hello, don't worry, I still write for him, and it's definitely not a bother!! This was a really cute request, I hope you enjoy!

Yandere Mafia Boss With a Darling Who Loves to Bake

Warnings: Yandere character but he doesn’t do too much Yandare like here, one line of him infantilizing reader, Mafia boss character

Fem! reader (I think? The pronoun her was used so I'm gonna take that as a sign)

Divider credit goes to @strangergraphics-archive

-Charlie absolutely adores having a partner who loves to bake, and it's not just because he loves everything about you anyway. He thinks it's super cute that you have such a sweet hobby, it only feeds the ''innocent, adorable s/o who needs to be protected' delusions he has about you (regardless of your actual personality/abilities). Plus, he gets a massive influx of sugary treats that he never would have had otherwise, so that's another win in his book!

-Charlie loves to watch you while you bake. He doesn't get the opportunity often due to be out on missions or going to meetings, but when he does he takes full advantage of it, even helping you out if you’ll let him. He’s not the best baker in the world, he never had much practice, but he tries, and it’s fun spending time with him either way!

-Regardless of his involvement, he’ll always have at least one eye on you, watching your every move as you do whatever step in the baking you’re on. Sometimes it’s a little off putting because he doesn’t speak, he just watches, staring lovingly at you while you move about, but you’ve gotten used to it. He’s happy to help with whatever you’ll let him do, but otherwise, he’ll watch you quietly, only speaking when spoken to or when he has a question about what you’re doing.

-No matter what you make, Charlie’s always excited to try it as soon as you’ll let him. It doesn’t matter if the main ingredient is something he doesn’t like, or if it has a certain texture to it that takes a bit to get used to. He’s eating everything up all the same. You don’t often get the chance to share your baking with other people since Charlie’s so protective of you, but what you lack in audience, Charlie makes up for in enthusiasm. He eats everything you make with a soft smile on his face, even if the food is horrifically burnt beyond recognition. You made it, so in his eyes, it’s the best food that could ever exist, right?

-Besides his overwhelming personal support of your hobby, another giant perk of having Charlie as your husband is that he’s absolutely loaded, and he uses his massive amounts of money to spoil you rotten. While he loves to buy you extravagant gifts of every nature, he also loves to use his money to fuel your hobbies, baking included. The fridge and cabinets are constantly stocked with ingredients you frequently use, you have every published baking cookbook known to man, and not only is your kitchen stocked with every tool you could possibly need, but Charlie personally made sure each of the tools is the most effective in its category. He does not play when it comes to your hobby, and if there’s anything you somehow don’t have already that you would like, he’s getting it delivered to your house the second he’s made aware of it. Anything for his darling!

-Naturally, the influx of money, ingredients, and tools gives you the opportunity to make more extravagant treats that you never would have been able to make otherwise, a fact that Charlie loves to see you take full advantage of. He’ll give you recommendations if you’re open to them, he never wants you to get bored of what you love doing just because you keep making the same stuff.

-If you were ever start making sweets that you know Charlie favors over others on a regular basis, he’d be absolutely over the moon. He makes sure you know just how much he appreciates your generosity while scarfing down whatever it is that you made (not that he didn’t already do that, but you know). He’ll try to return the favor by making your favorite sweets on his own, but don’t the result to be as good as whatever you make! He’s still learning, so chances are he’ll end up messing up one of the steps. Still, it means a lot that you’ll be willing to eat it, even if it’s not as good as it’s meant to be.

-Overall, Charlie loves that you bake, and he loves to make sure you can continue your hobby to the highest extent possible. As long as baking is something you enjoy doing, he’ll encourage and embrace your creations with open arms, participating with you as much as he can (and as much as you’ll let him). Who knows, maybe it’ll become your little thing together!

-But even if it doesn’t, even if he just gets to watch you as you bake, he’s content. It’s a change from his normally violent life, a welcome one for sure. He almost feels like it’s too innocent of a thing to see with his tainted eyes.

-Just…please let him keep eating your baking. Seriously, it’s the highlight of his day, to eat what his dove has made.

I hope you enjoyed!

[utilitycaster]

Part of why it’s tough to talk about the most recent episodes is that I feel a lot of people treat party dynamics, culpability vs. victimhood, and overall character focus on the show, based on an idea of a zero sum game, and I find that fallacious.

It’s really valid for everyone to be furious at Ashton, and I don’t think anyone has behaved wildly inappropriately towards them. I don’t think Bells Hells behaved in a therapy-approved manner either, but as is frequently discussed this is fiction and not real life and therapy-approved discussions are so boring and unnatural in, to be honest, either fiction or real life, that this is not a metric anyone whose opinion I respect would use.

It’s also extremely understandable how Ashton got here. As Taliesin said on 4SD, and now in-game and in-character, the fact that nothing good had ever really happened to Ashton means that they jumped at the first sign that they might be special and ran with it. The Ashton and FCG parallels continue; the past week has been a bunch of important people telling him how unique and cool he is. Jumping into the lava even worked out well for them! And so, riding high on that hubris, and with the knowledge that the rest of the party would probably stop them, they deliberately deceived everyone but Fearne. He even admits that the fact that “very smart people” (Evontra’vir, Allura, arguably Percy) advised against it was part of why he made the decision he did. It was perfectly in character, it did come from their trauma, and it still was a choice that was harmful to them, to the rest of the party, and to a vitally important mission. Ashton covers the situation well: they wanted someone else to blame, but in the end it was their fault.

Ashton is both deeply traumatized and also responsible for a number of their own problems. To be honest, I think this can be said to an extent about everyone in the party, but that’s beside the point. Within the fandom, swinging entirely to one side (They are a horrible selfish monster who ruined everything and are lucky the party is still talking to them) or the other (He has had a very hard life and exploding hurt a lot and everyone should be nice to him as a result) is an incomplete picture at best and a realization of the post author’s unexamined bias at worst.

It’s much easier to cover the other kind of zero sum: that of the show’s, and the fandom’s focus. The show is telling a story. In a good story, everyone will get their time in the sun, but if you’re counting how many minutes each person talks you have quite literally lost the plot. If your favorite isn’t getting the time you wish they did, it’s worth considering what sort of actions they take. Rarely do I find a main PC to actually be sidelined; more frequently, they just have a more subtle plot and the actor playing them realizes this. And in the case of the fandom’s focus; I’d be a hypocrite if I said complaining wasn’t valid, but you’ll achieve far more by making good posts about an underrated character than whining that other characters exist. People can enjoy multiple things at once, and frequently do.

[fuji-sen]

MONSTER UNDER THE BED pt. 2

a scar x reader oneshot / miniseries ༉‧₊˚༉‧₊˚. based on the music video: Monster under the bed by Emily Mei.

fandom: wuthering waves (game) characters: reader, Scar setting: modern au, characters (most) are in a college setting.

warnings 🖤❤️: stalking, yandere themes, drugging, kidnapping, obsession, lovesick???, scar, off the scene violence,

disclaimer: made when wuthering waves recently got out, so characters may seem ooc in the future. If it does seem ooc, I'll maybe consider rewriting it in the future.

INSERT SCAR GIF

˖⁺ ・🔪⋆ ♡ 💌・ ⁺ ˖

lost in your love for him, you didn't noticed the early signs of Scar reciprocating your twisted feelings.

Admittedly, when Scar first met you, he was only slightly interested, his feelings only grew as time went on, nurtured by your actions and devotion to him.

Having been hurt so young and quite frequently in his life, he wasn't one to think about love, he preferred fighting, chaos, and the like. Love was an afterthought, or what he assumed to be a no-thought at all.

And yet..

It was probably weeks in to your growing obsession with him, he'd feel your stare, he'd hear the shutter of a camera, or when you first flimsy-ly took a picture of him with the flash on. He was aware of what you were doing, but he ignored it.

He was simply curious of what it would bore,

how far you would take your feelings for him.

He would see you watch him from your classroom when he played soccer with his teammates, he'd see you sneaking glances at him at the hallways, he'd see you at the corner of his eye, or at least in someway you'd leave little reminders of your presence and existence to him.

It would slowly start to feed his ego, and in turn, he would slowly start to seek your presence as well.

Your gifts and trinkets started of as random materials, then as you continued to stalk him, knew him better, your gifts became more sentimental, useful, pleasant even.

You were like a devoted lamb to him.

And he didn't mind it at all.

He'd let you do as you please, without interfering or reciprocating your feelings, or so he'd think.

. . .

Scar winced, there were cuts on his faces and his knuckles were bruised. Having fought with a couple of seniors had him bruised and injured, but he was satisfied considering he still won. He walked towards the nurses' office with students separating, making space for him in the crowded halls.

It was akin to that of the red sea parting for him.

He clicked his tongue, annoyance bubbling in him but he forced a smile on his face as he entered the nurse's office, knowing he'd have to charm or manipulate the nurse for some bandages, the nurse here was always strict, not wanting to waste materials for stupid fights, or so she'd say.

"Scar?" a voice called out his name, and he raised his head, looking around the clinic to find you, sitting on one of the beds, applying ointment to a bruise on your knee.

He was impressed you weren't a stuttering mess, and you tried to hide your blush, but it didn't work, he could see the red tipped ears after all.

"On if it isn't Rover's little friend, (name)!" he'd greet you, walking up to you with his hands on his hips, he easily towered over you. "Now what happened?" he curiously asked, eyes locked on the bruises that painted your skin.

You scratched the back of your neck almost embarrassed, "I told the other cleaners to help me clean and they didn't like that, they kinda tripped me while I was distracted and I hit the chairs.. haha" you'd say.

And he found himself angry, lips twitching as he took the ointment, he was a bit confused by his actions, but he summed it up as giving you a bone so your feelings would develop more, he was curious of how far you'd go or feel for him after all! yeah, surely that was the reason why he sat on the bed across from you.

He bit the glove on his right hand and pulled it off, almost chuckling at the lovesick look you had. He began to apply ointment on your bruise, you winced and sucked your teeth whenever he pressed a bit harder on the purple skin.

"Thanks.." you muttered when he was done and was closing the ointment container "what about you?"

"Oh just got into a fight with the seniors, they didn't like my ideals, so I beat them up!" he proudly stated with a smile, you shook your head fondly and grabbed the first aid kit beside you, "let me return the favor" she offered.

So Scar sat patiently as you brought out some disinfectant for the wounds. He didn't hiss or showed any signs of pain, so you began to hum in the silence, cleaning his wounds and wrapping them.

You were so focused on treating your beloved that you didn't notice how quite Scar was, how he had an observant face, watching you with a forming emotion in his eyes.

Your touch was gentle, you didn't intentionally pressed on his wounds just like what he did with yours, your eyes didn't hold any sort of hatred or disgust for him, nor was there any fear even when you two were alone in the clinic.

When you were done with his knuckles, you took the time to trace over the scars on his hands, a sad look on your face, it wasn't pity but it was just that, sadness.

If he was a villain, he wasn't just a villain for no reason. Something must have happened to change his mindset or attitude, but maybe you were just making excuses but.. whatever it may be, it wouldn't stop you from loving him.

You looked up to meet his eyes, he was no longer smiling but it wasn't like he was frowning or angry or annoyed, it was like there was a blank mask.

Maybe he was contemplating on whether or not to hurt you for being rude or insolent, so you let go of his hands and apologized. "Why so sad little lamb?" he asked curiously, planting a smile on his face.

"you must have been through a lot.." you muttered, in response.

His eyes slightly widened but you looked away flustered, luckily enough for him. There was silence until Scar was the one to first break it, "aren't you going to patch up the cuts on my face?" he reminded her, a hand on his chin as he looked away, he looked cute, almost vulnerable.

You blushed, "is it okay?"

"well you have to finish your job!"

A chuckle left your lips and your hands reached to cup his face, he stared at you in shock "alright, let me take care of you." you told him.

take care of.. him?

huh..

his heart seemed to tighten at your words, and he found himself at a lost for words, and in the end he silently let you take care of his wounds, and as a reward, he let you touch his face as much as you wanted, and you simply thought he was distracted at that time.

As you two leave with not much words left exchanged, you bid goodbye and walk off, his eyes narrowing in on your bruised knee, he clicked his tongue, feeling annoyed again as his hand brushed his peppermint locks.

Strangely enough, your co-cleaners started cleaning, even letting or forcing you to leave everything to them and go play hooky. Which ruined your chances of watching Scar practice from the safety and distance of your classroom.

Kindness has a price apparently-

Scar feelings for you were born that day, and since then, he'd come to you sometimes to help him patch up his wounds, not always though, he wasn't going to be vulnerable with you just yet afterall!

He'd intentionally leave his bag alone in his classroom or at a table at the less visited area of the library, he'd hide and watch as you slip by and put some gifts for him and sticky notes.

have a nice day

goodluck on your exams!

take care of yourself please :'3

It was cute and innocent until you seemed to be nearing your limits, nearly walking past that one line, especially when you gave him, in cutely wrapped paper, your underwear.

He was impressed by your boldness, and he couldn't help but anticipate the things you'd do next. And of course he'd start to reciprocate your behavior.

He didn't leave gifts, but he too started to stalk you, just in more extreme methods. His gallery had more pictures of you compared to yours with him! He knew more about you than you did him, considering he had his ways and connections.

He knew what food you liked, what your favorite subject was, your favorite show, your type of clothes, your peeves and your routine.

He watched you when you were too busy watching him.

He even had cameras in your apartment having broken in, all in the hopes of seeing you do something exciting or at least something extreme.

He watches you from his laptop.

But it seemed stagnant and boring the next few days, there didn't seem to be a tug of war or any development with you, so he thought you needed a little push, so he spread a rumor that someone was going to confess to him.

And it worked wonders!

He watched as you drugged his water one night while he was out in the library alone. He walked back to his table, and took his drink and acted like he drank from it.

And you know what happens next!

˖⁺ ・🔪⋆ ♡ 💌・ ⁺ ˖

the end slowly loses its quality since I'm sleepy, I'll come back to this someday.