#but some of the internet detectives are honestly concerning | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dimepdf · 3 years ago

Text

WANNA BE YOURS. + THE RIDDLER

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? summary. Working the night shift in Gotham City, where sociopaths and criminals are constantly on the loose, makes you concerned about your own safety. Until you meet a dull man named Edward, whom you enjoy teasing during your work shift. What's the worst that could happen? author's note. hey horny people! porn this time!

[ ❥ ] pairing. riddler x fem!reader

[ ❥ ] word count. 5.3k sorry again

[ ❥ ] genre. +18, PWP

[ ❥ ] warnings. language, manipulation, musty ass reader, reader being a discord mod, obsessive behavior, bottom!riddler, dense reader, incel Edward, awkward flirting, car sex, slight hand kink, unprotected sex, choking, dense reader, unhealthy relationship, corruption kink?

[ ❥ ] You yawned into your palm, your fingers reaching up to subconsciously adjust the septum piercing that dangled from your nose as your fingers went back to finding themselves tapping against the keys of the overheating laptop that was nested on top of your hip bone.

Your head was angled to sit up by the excessive number of pillows at the headboard of your bed as your eyes were tiredly glued to the brightly lit computer screen.

You wet your chapped lips, your tongue dragging along your lips before taking your bottom lip in between your teeth as you scrolled through the discord channels of your active friend server.

You lived in Gotham your entire life. You were aware of the crime rates and all the bad shit that people would compare your city to, and honestly, you didn't blame them, as you were even too paranoid and filled with anxiety to leave your own house without being glued to the hip with your parents by your side.

You knew it was pathetic being a 20-year-old secret college dropout with a shitty night shift job at some diner just to help ease your subconscious mind of the seeping guilt you felt constantly mooching and freeloading off of your parent's funds. You were a grown woman yet felt so directionless, having graduated from high school.

You sort of realized that people didn't care what you were truly doing with your life if it didn't benefit them or serve any purpose of entertainment. In your extended family's eyes, you were just simply the quiet cousin/niece that just followed orders from everyone, the cousin who was too spineless to stick up for themselves or got picked on and called a crybaby.

But what they didn't know was that you ruled another world, a world within the internet.

You were a very niche true-crime Youtuber, gaining your following from true crime compilations and edited documentaries on the sociopaths that caught the light of fame because they lived in your city.

You were Gotham's most adored faceless source of information other than the corrupted aired news that was controlled by the city. What people liked about you was that you were real. You didn't care about higher-ups or give in to the bribes of rich people trying to hide the criticism.

You were just another victim of your city's shit system and had used your channel to voice it.

You welcomed the internet as your only safe space as the coded community welcomed you with open arms. You had actual friends and fans online and grew a pretty decent-sized community.

Of course, most of the "fans" were mostly just parasocial creeps with a fetish for criminals and tragedies, but it didn't matter because it wasn't like they could tell that secretly you were judging their lives since they didn't know your real name nor any information to discover your true identity.

You weren't undercover using an alias for the privacy of yourself and the safety of your family.

Aside from the caped Bat who roamed the streets locally, you demonstrated yourself to be the most polished detective in the city. Your fans admired your ability to work safely in the shadows. Many of your parasocial fans even went as far as funding your lifestyle. Of course, you took all the gifts and money as the donations were very lucrative.

The amount that your fans would give wasn’t enough for the end goal. You aimed to move out of Gotham City and into a safer city. Also, in terms of your bad spending habits, you would find enjoyment in doordashing food from the comfort of your full-size bed.

You could count on your fingers how many times you’ve left the house in the last month, blessing the subscriber that funded enough money for you to have the high tech laptop that you could complete all of your blogs and edit videos on.

Aside from your family and the small number of coworkers and customers you had to tolerate, you didn't have much going for you outside of the internet.

You have to turn on your mic just to have any sort of social interaction in your life outside of your parents asking you to come down to eat dinner because all your friends are voices hidden behind stupid usernames.

A hum left your lips as you heard the annoying discord ping notification spam through your laptop speakers. You had managed to complete a small group of people into a more inner circle using the superfans as content mules, as they would commonly ramble about gossip that happened in the city like they walked the same streets as you.

As you opened the group chat and read the chat logs of your friends spamming links of a live streamer in Gotham going on a rampage. You never disclosed a lot of personal information with your internet friends. As much as they liked to believe, you didn't trust them.

The creeping fear that they would piece too much of your privacy together and ruin the persona of your only main source of income makes you shiver just by the thought of it.

Your online username was gothicgrims, a play on words as your content was mainly about Gotham and its daily rising crime rate in the niche community of true crime.

You were the queen of the city news. Some of your blog posts even reached the modern news eye as they would use your blog as a credited source. Of course, the shout-out only made it harder for you to keep a low profile. You would take extra care that you wouldn't leave even the smallest traces of your identity anywhere in your words.

Folktales: check this fucker out he’s planning something insane!

Zobner: dude hes probably making a fucking BOMB LMAO

gothicgrims: how is that funny?

gothicgrims: he’s just another incel looking for the gotham news clout

Folktales: lol

Marzbarz: yeah but are you gonna do a video on him?

Marzbarz: asking for a friend :eyestare:

gothicgrims: giving me something actually interesting to write about :yawn:

Folktales: yeah but his voice tho :lipbyte:

Zobner: not you being horny for another musty masked man on main

Marzbarz: im tryna see what's under the mask :ughh:

gothicgrims: you all need serious therapy.

Though you were more serious in your comments, your friends were pretty dense and reflected most of your sarcastic remarks blinded by the power trip of you being a famous role model they looked up to, and you had admittedly gotten used to talking freely with your emotions to only the muggle group chat full of people.

cheeks puffed out as your cursor hovered over the highlighted link. You sighed, stretching your fingers before clicking on the link, waiting as your browser loaded the live streaming page.

Your brow furrowed at the contrast of neon green and dark background. You assumed the male was using his website to stream onto the platform, ticking off another mental red flag in your head as you quickly checked your VPN to ensure it was still active while logged in.

You sat up against your headboard, snuggling your back deeper into your pillows for a comfortable seat as the man on your screen seemed to be moving around as his camera shook the blur of his green mask, bloating the vertical screen as you pressed the volume key on your laptop.

Plugging in your old trusty head buds as you pressed the volume key on your laptop, bloating the vertical screen as you pressed the volume key on your keyboard, plugging in your old trusty head

The moment the man started speaking again, you tapped your volume keys a few more times to a higher volume as his gentle voice played through your headphones, a shiver of goosebumps running up your arms.

You placed a hand against your mouth, masking the embarrassed smirk from no one as you glanced at your bedroom door and jumped up from your mattress, shamelessly shedding your pants as you reached across your small bedroom and flicked the lock on your doorknob.

A sigh left your lips as you crawled back under your blankets and tuned back into the stream, or more so, the male's voice once more.

You could tell he wasn't used to being in front of the camera by the way he uttered, but what piqued your interest was the pattern in which he spoke.

Even in his own company, he appeared nervous, but intelligent in the subject he was attempting to discuss.

Wait, was a fucking masked dork talking about making a bomb was turning you on?

As you traced your hands down your stomach, your fingers hesitated as they reached the material of your underwear. A wave of arousal mixed with shame washed over you.

The light poured in through the window. He sat behind a white blare that ate up half of the screen since he had placed the phone on the floor. The male appeared to be sitting on the floor, droning on about weaponry you were unfamiliar with.

It wasn't like you cared as your fingers finally broke through the barrier of your waistband. Quietly finding the warmth of your core, a low whimper escaped your mouth as your other hand teased your clothed buds that peaked from the cotton lounge shirt you had been wearing for a week straight.

You would pleasure yourself without interruption to the man's voice all the way until your orgasm. As post-nut clarity settled in, you slammed your laptop shut hard as you buried your face into your pillows, the sound of only your muffled frustration bouncing off the walls of your bedroom.

Another message ping interrupted your pity party as you turned your head against your fluffy pillow. Your arm swung lazily to grab your phone from the nightstand, where you cringed as you read the message notification.

Bitch ass boss: short notice Pam is bailed.

Bitch ass boss: but need you to do closing tonight.

The message from your boss kills any remaining vestiges of your lady boner as you set a 6 pm alarm and then a 7 pm alarm, knowing you'd most likely hit snooze by accident, deciding to spend the rest of your free time before work cuddling into your blankets half-naked and falling down strange rabbit holes of YouTube videos you'd saved to watch later.

The diner you worked at was decorated in the classic 80s diner style, with neon signs, harsh counters, and strict musty costumes that featured far more skin than you were comfortable wearing while taking lunch orders from middle-aged couples.

When you first considered applying for the job, you were familiar with the drawbacks of working part-time for a boss who didn't care about his employees as long as he was making money.

Though your safety had never been in jeopardy, you had been working the same job since junior year of high school.

Dealing with rude coworkers and old creepy men who needed a strong reminder that they didn't walk into a Hooters and that groping you was not acceptable.

Your parents cared enough to buy you your own car, not wanting you to walk the few blocks at the break of dawn.

It was a peaceful night, well as peaceful as it could get in Gotham. As you walked past one of your coworkers taking a smoke break in the back of the restaurant, you locked your car and tossed your tote back over your shoulder, the loud clicking of your car keys in hand.

As you entered the building, you gave them a tightly closed mouth smile, instantly wincing from the bright restaurant overhead light beaming all along the kitchen roof.

You took a turn to the restrooms to change into your uniform, your back against the door just in case someone tried to open the door as you were changing.

You yawned giving yourself a once over in the dirty mirror, your hands reaching down to flatten the skirt of your dress as you wiped your nose with the back of your hand not bothering to wash your hands as you exited the restroom you locked your bag into one of the employee lockers or at least attempted too as most of the locks were busted from everyone always trying to steal from them.

You were wise enough to keep your car keys and phone in your pockets at all times, leaving only your purse and a change of clothes in your bag.

The restaurant wasn't busy, just a few lingering people sitting in booths talking amongst themselves already situated, you only assumed an earlier server got to them before your shift started as you exhaled plopping yourself in front of the cash restaurant and instantly taking out your phone, you decided now was the perfect time to do a deep dive on the male you were using as wank bank material earlier.

You rested your chin in your palm, your elbow on the counter, and used your thumb to scroll through the rest of his saved live streams.

You made the best of your repetitive shift. As you tapped one of the older streams, your eyes were glued to your phone. Looking up and scanning the environment, you quickly realized that no one gave a fuck that you were sitting there as you turned up the volume just loud enough to make out some of the words he was saying but not loud enough for the others across the room to hear.

They were pretty much all in the same format you would study, the male asking for help from the weird community of people that watched his videos.

You assumed it was some weird 4chan group wanting attention but the farther you scanned through his page the more you would realize how seriously dangerous his plans truly were.

A deep panic creeps up your skin as you were hung up on every word that came from the masked male's mouth. “Excuse me.” You slammed your phone down on the counter making the standing male across from you slight flinch, his nature instantly coming off timid as he gave you a feared glance you awkwardly chuckled off your frightened reaction.

Putting on your customer service smile trying to milk your way into getting milk with every opportunity, “sorry about that, can I get you anything?” you tone a falsely sweet tone as you slide your phone back into your pocket glancing at the man quickly you could already tell he was staring at your exposed cleavage.

His cheeks a pinch of pale pink as his eyes seemed to just fall into a trance of your boobs you crossed your arms in front of your chest the man looking up at you in confusion almost like he didn't even realize himself that he was staring until breaking away from from the trance.

His fingers fidgeted as he looked around the entire place, everything except the person in front of him. "Uh, I'm sorry…" his voice was gentle when he spoke almost like he was afraid that you reached over the counter and smack the shit out of him.

A smile couldn't help but to creep onto your lips as you only chuckled placing a washed mug in front of him, "awe man, it's alright as long as you're only looking and not touching we won't have a problem, you a coffee guy?" and from the one question that bloomed, you bonded with the man who would soon be your regular.

That made the closing shift not too bad with his constant bright and calm demeanor presence. In contrast to your highly sarcastic and blunt personality, you were surprised at how natural the friendship had formed between the two of you from behind the counter.

You grew so close to each other enough to know and exchange names with each other that you would come to realize that he was one of the first actual friends that you could talk to face to face in a while. Unbeknownst to you, Edward felt the same way, and that fucking terrified him every night.

You were the distraction he never wanted to come into his life at the worst time. He would constantly worry about you and his connection revealing the worst side of him.

The creeping fear that you found about his alter ego and dehumanizing him was one of his biggest fears as he would spend the late nights staying up just to talk to you on the same bar stool getting the same order every day. "You have to try the fucking pumpkin pie here. It's insane. It's like Sal sold his fucking soul for it to come out that perfect."

You would vouch for all the food he would order, though your conversations were always involved with him spending money, not to mention the times you would force him to tip you.

Sometimes your conversations would have him thinking about you for days, your words lingering in the back of his mind at the worst possible time. You'd often linger in these thoughts, his fist angrily tugging at his cock as he kneeled against his carpeted floors, his cock flushed with anger as his tip leaked cum right into his hand.

You two had one thing in common, both perverts with a knack for justice. Edward would instantly undercover your little YouTube channel even your full name and identity just in under the first week of knowing you.

He was not some silly 20-year-old with a hobby; he was a fucking sociopath with a plan, and that plan had taken him many years to develop since he stepped foot out of that horrible orphanage. He was angry nonetheless.

You had proved to be heavy destruction, a speed bump as he leaned his head against his wall for more stability. Edward didn't bother hiding his grunting and moaning as he angrily beat his cock to an image of you that was posted on your mother's Facebook.

It was your 20th birthday picture. The picture was taken at an upward angle as you stared up into the camera with big doe eyes. You had white frosting all over your face, having just had your birthday smashed against your face as a prank. After blowing your candles, your pointer finger rested in your mouth, your plump lips wrapping around the knuckle.

Your tongue stuck out from the underside of the finger. Edward imagines himself in your mouth, his big harsh manly palms caressing your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lips as you sucked his finger with the same flirtatious look; God, you were driving him insane.

Edward sat on his legs, his head leaning to rest his forehead on the same floor, as he came undone with the pump of his fist. His cum just rested inches away from his face, soaking into the carpet.

You had too much power over him.

He hated that his mind spiraled with every mistake, every fuckup that you would manage to cause by just existing, and then he finally decided... you had to go.

Your shift started like every other night, changing in the bathroom to having too much downtime. The only difference between today and yesterday was that Edward was waiting for you this time.

You moved behind the counter and in front of him, tilting your head and squinting at the man.

Noticing his pumpkin pie plate and a warm-looking cup of coffee in front of him. "You fucking cheater! I thought I was your one and only favorite waitress!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms over your chest.

Edward considered how well your arms pushed up against your breasts, how you managed to show off your body to him without realizing how much you were displaying yourself to him.

"Just wanted to try something new before it was too late." You were dense. Edward quickly discovered his words that held greater meaning seemed to just slip into your ear and go out the other.

It was that way for a lot of people he had met in his lifetime. Though he found your ignorance endearing, dotting the way your head would tilt in confusion when he rambled on about something you didn't understand or how you would always use your humor to hide how much of a dummy you were.

He wished he could keep you forever, preserve you from the harm of the world.

Don't get him wrong, he has considered kidnapping you from the comfort of your own home and dragging your body to his apartment, chaining your feet to the radiator in the corner of his apartment living room.

He would be able to control everything you did, but at least you were smart when it came to defending yourself.

You overpowered him in strength, no doubt. Edward, no matter how much height he had on you, was not the type to engage in any form of arm exercise, as he frequently defeated his enemies with weapons.

He knew that if he were to get into an altercation with you, you would manage to catch him off guard by using pure strength.

"What's one thing you always wanted to do before you died?" The question was unprompted as you simply glanced at Edward from your phone screen, your mindless scrolling on Twitter coming to a halt as you sat your phone down on the counter, starting to ponder as you bit your bottom lip.

Edward waited patiently with the same slight smile on his face. His eyes considered kind as his arms rested on the counter of the table. He was dragging his fingers along the mug of his coffee as he gave you his full attention.

You lifted your pointer finger in the air. "My first kiss, I mean, I want to have my first kiss, you know, like the whole feeling of fireworks and roses flowing around me."

The answer was not what Edward was expecting. As he lifted his brow, you quickly took notice of how he was staring at you. "What, you think you're the only adult virgin here, buddy?" You chuckled, your attention going back to your phone screen.

"I want—what if I could help you with that?" Your attention perched as you lowered your phone once more, a deep smirk setting on your lips as you used your elbows to lean closer towards Edward's face.

You were flirting again, an activity that would often leave Edward flushed pink and you triumphant as you had managed to fluster the man to the point of stuttering and stumbling. It was a fun pastime for you.

"You wanna kiss me, Eddy?" He hated nicknames, especially the times you would use them.

He just didn't see the point of you shortening his already short name. He liked the way his last name rolled off your tongue, almost like you were saying it just to tease him.

"If that's the only thing you want, I'm happy to offer your last wish." You thought it was weird how suddenly forward Edward was tonight.

You thought it was even more weird seeing him set a briefcase down on the counter before following you outside. But the fear instantly went away as he linked his fingers in between yours, giving you that same shy look as he peered up at you over his glasses.

You would admit how much you were a hopeless romantic as you clocked out for a break and led Edward outside to the front of the restaurant. Leaning on your car hood, as Edward stood awkwardly across from you, you reached your arms out to grab his wrist and pull him in between your legs.

"Don't get all shy on me now, Eddy." God, he really fucking hated that nickname. The way you smirked up at him with those big fucking eyes, he let his actions get ahead of his thoughts as his thumb traced over your chin.

He ignored your slight flinch reaction as his fingers seemed to study the structure of your face. He might as well soak it all in while he can.

"You're into some kinky shit Eds." You gagged, his pointer finger shoving into his mouth as his chest rose from the warm feeling of your tongue wrapping around the digit almost instantly.

Spoke in a slight mumble, careful to not bring your teeth down as you spoke. He still couldn't believe that he was getting away with the action as his other hand tilted your head up farther so you could peer up at him through your lashes.

The way your dark eyes glistened as you looked up at him expecting something made him remember what you would look like kneeling to the ground begging his name.

"I want to do more than kiss you." His confession was dull as he stared at your mouth.

The way your lips wrapped around his pointer, a slight chuckle making your teeth flash from your mouth as Edward looked at you looking for any sign of discomfort.

You pulled your head around from his hands, wetting your lips. As you leaned back against your hood, a groan left your throat as you buried your face in your hands.

Edward was ready to back out in an instant as he backed away from your hand and shot out to grab his arm.

"You're so fucking unbearable, Edward," you grumbled, yanking the male closer as your head slumped into his chest.

He quickly realized, looking down at you, that you were more embarrassed and nervous than him. Given the situation, he felt an even more flaming desire as he glanced at his wrist for the time being. He needed everything to go on schedule.

"Can we... do it?" You snorted a laugh into his chest, tilting your head up to look at him again for a second before pushing the male away to stand up ."Only if you want to." It was the first time he’d ever seen you so flustered because of him.

Edward nodded his head in approval the instant the question left your lips. You smiled at him, biting your bottom lip, unlocking your car as you both slid into the back.

Your skin was already hot as you were convinced he could hear the sound of your heart beating so hard against your ribs as you both sat in a minute of silence.

Edward sighed before grabbing your face and smashing his lips into yours. You hissed into his mouth as your teeth clashed together from the force.

But you both quickly recovered as you crawled into his lap, his hands finding your hips as he thrust up between your legs.

You trailed kisses against his neck. Edward leaned his head to the side to give you better access as you sucked a small trail down against his throat.

Your hands trailed down his chest and to the belt buckle that held up his jeans. As you fumbled to pull at the buckle, you groaned in frustration, your head snapping up to look up at him with concentration glistening in your eyes.

"Help me please." Edward was convinced that most of his blood had already made its way to his dick, as the simple request caused him to become dizzy, causing him to shift his hips up to unbuckle his belt and pull his jeans down to his thighs.

He hesitated before pulling down his boxers as well, exposing his cock as it yanked from the material springing to his chest.

You breathed out. Your legs spread on each side of Eds as you lifted yourself and pushed your underwear aside with your thighs.

While you gripped his cock and guided the inches deeper into your core, your stomach began to burn as you buried your face into the man's neck. You groan as you lower yourself further down.

Edward groaned, his hand resting on your hip as the other fisted the roof of your car, every twitch and groan melting him farther into you as he leaned his head back and let you set the pace.

As you bottomed out, you both groaned with his cocked buried inside. You paused to catch your breath, feeling yourself throb around his length as Edward whimpered. You pulled back your arm using the headrest behind you as your other hand rested on his chest.

Edwards squeezed his eyes shut so hard that he was seeing white spots. He was finding it difficult to sit still and not react to your cunt squeezing his dick. "If you cum in me, I'll fucking kill you," you grunt, pressing your chest against his as you slowly lift yourself, wincing as your body desperately tries to adjust to being fucked.

Your legs shook as you practically bounced against his dick. The air in the car is hot and stuffy as you both begin to sweat from each other's body heat, moaning into each other's mouths. His hands were trailing up your shirt, desperately groping your chest through your bra as you ground your hips into his lap.

All that could be heard was the sound of your skin slapping together along with Edward's low whimpering and your moaning. The car jerked every time you would slam down into his lap.

The more you got the hang of it, the more arousing it became as you wrapped your arms over his shoulder to hold yourself closer to him. Your legs began to tire as you sat in his lap and ground your hips to chase the new sensation building in the pit of your stomach.

Then Edward began thrusting his hip into yours as you leaned your head back and strung together moans. Your legs were shaking as you came undone.

Edward quickly followed your orgasm, raising you slightly to pull his cock out and onto the front of your dress.

"I have to walk back inside covered in cum now." You nibbled at his lip as you leaned down to passionately kiss the fucked speechless Edward, before using his shirt to smear some of the stains off of your dress and readjusting your underwear.

"What time is it?" You groaned, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.

You shifted yourself over to sit in the other backseat as Edward pulled himself together, tucking himself back into his underwear and pulling up his pants.

Almost fucking him dumb as he had almost forgotten to check the time on his wristwatch. The moment the question settled in his brain, he recognized the situation once more, the plan almost slipping from his mind.

"You should probably go back inside now." When he mumbled, fixing his belt and refusing to meet your eyes, you assumed the innocent reasoning and assumed he was the type to get nervous after inanimate solutions, so you followed suit to his request.

Leaving the man in the car as you went to clock back into work, you stayed in the kitchen of the diner for a bit, using a wet cloth to wipe any remaining stains from the front of your dress.

As you shuffled back to your usual spot behind the counter, your phone rested face down in the same spot you'd left it, and you pressed the power button, your lock screen flooded with notifications of missed discord calls to your friends messaging you. You quickly tapped on the Discord icon and scrolled through the messages.

Folktales: HE’S STREAMING AGAIN!

Folktales: our crazy hot mask bf awooga

Marzbarz: ours???? No mf YOURS

Zobner: where is he even at??

Marzbarz: looks like some shitty diner

Folktales: LMAO HES GONNA BLWO IT UP I BET!!

Zobner: LMAO

Marzbarz: wait.

Zobner: ???

Marzbarz: does that phone case look familiar to you?

Folktales: gothic has the same one

Zobner: thats her ringtone…

Marzbarz: guys something doesnt seem right

You frowned, swiping up and tapping on the Livestream notification link, your phone instantly redirecting to the familiar black and neon green page. This time the Livestream was the thing that caught you off guard, as it was a live feed of a security camera.

The camera was pointed directly towards you. As your head jerked in the direction of the camera mounted to the wall. You froze, your blood running cold as you tried to piece together everything. The only thing you managed to think about was how Edward still hadn't walked into the restaurant.

His seat was empty. The only thing occupying his space was the same strange briefcase. Your curiosity getting the best of you, you grabbed the handle of the case. You froze.

A loud beeping sound rang out throughout the diner as you quickly unclasped the case and yanked it open, revealing a bomb and a small note inside.

It's better this way; the world is too filthy for kindhearted people like you. I adore you too much to lose you by another's hand.

“Oh you fucking–”

[ ❥ ] taglist. @lluvin @lovemedaddy-666 @toy-cars-and-grape-juice

tap here to be added to taglist.

#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#paul dano x reader #the riddler smut #riddler x reader #paul dano riddler #paul dano #the riddler #the batman #the riddler x reader #edward nashton imagine #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton

940 notes · View notes

ssamie · 4 years ago

Text

epilogue. “your girlfriend’s kinda hot”

kozume kenma x fem dazai!reader

(bsd x hq)

tw: mentions of suicide and suggestive themes + dirty jokes

masterlist. suicide freak!

"hey uh, welcome to my stream i guess" he said as he spared the camera a quick glance "im not really playing tonight because an incident has recently occurred in this household" kenma said with a tired sigh

nobody else knew it, but the said 'incident' was y/n accidentally setting half of their living room on fire

the reason? apparently, she wanted to try burning herself to death in the furnace. obviously, it didn't work. and all that's left from that is more shit for kenma to clean up and a trip to yosano-san.

kenma is stressed. and y/n is still alive. both of them are facing problems.

"can you please wear a maid outfit- no."

kenma shook his head as he continued playing, glancing at the chat once in a while to read the veiwers' questions and comments

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: how about cat ears?!

user: ^^ cATBOY CATBOY CATBOY

user: u suck at this game wtf

kuroo.tetsu: hey kenma ;)

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

"first of all, i do not suck at minecraft thank you very much" kenma scoffed

"second of all, go away kuroo. im still mad at you"

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: LMFAOOO kuroo what did u do?? 💀💀

user: he probably broke kenma's pc

user: PLSS he's the one kenma’s throwing shade at on twitter

kuroo.tetsu: STOP THE SLANDER 😔✋🏼

user: rooster head lookin ass

user: ^^ NOT THE HAIR

kuroo.testsu: 😃😃

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

kenma sighed as he continued building a cute little cottage. he was currently vibing, just building y/n a cute cottage for her to probably burn later on.

and he decided it would be nice to go on stream since his oh-so-lovely girlfriend was still out for work.

ah yes, kenma has somehow kept y/n alive all those years.

barely.

hence why his phone was being bombarded with messages from her, all of which being blurry selfies.

the photos had her sporting a huge grin while atsushi panicked in the background.

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: ayo, ur phone's blowing up

user: do you have a girlfriend?

user: KODZUKEN LET ME SUCK UR TOES 😋😋🤩

user: ^ ayo chill 😃

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

kenma simply ignored them and continued on with his task. all was going well until a loud slam was heard. his cat-like eyes widened as he heard a familiar voice singing from downstairs, it was undoubtedly y/n.

kenma chuckled nervously and muted his mic.

but of course, cute dumb catboy didn't actually mute his mic. haha <3

he ignored all the questions in the chat, all of them being speculations that he has a girlfriend. which he does, but they simply did not need to know that <3

"kenma~" she yelled out "i have a surprise for you!!" she said, followed by menacing giggles.

kenma glanced at the camera before hopping off his gaming chair and peeking his head out of the door.

"y/n, im streaming!! stay down there!" he yelled out in panic

"aw, you're playing hard to get aren't ya?" she chuckled

kenma deadpanned as he saw her limping up the stairs, with her bandages torn and unravelled, same with her clothes. he didn't really think much of it since this is usually how she comes home.

its most likely just due to work and/or another suicide attempt.

"so, kenma.. you'll never know what just happened to me today" she started off with a goofy grin

"im streaming, atleast let me turn it off first-"

she paid no mind to him as she peeled off her ruined coat and pointed to her poorly bandaged stomach

"i got stabbed!"

"you got what?!"

kenma furrowed his brows as he immediately rushed over to his side, cradling her face and waist as he inspected her injuries

"are you okay, kitten?" he asked worriedly

"yep, apparently it wasnt deep enough to be fatal" she sighed dejectedly

"please don't be sad about that." kenma groaned "can you undress?"

"ara ara~ whats this?" she cooed "you're getting real bold, kenma" she smirked at him

she unbuttoned her shirt and started pulling down on her skirt "but since you asked so nicely-"

kenma simply sighed and shook his head. "i was gonna prepare you a bath but now im considering leaving you here to die"

"but the second option would've been better though" she smiled at him

"oh my fucking god."

kozume kenma. (22)

╰─▸ university student, stock trader, pro-gamer, youtuber, ceo of bouncing ball lpt.

╰─▸ y/n's struggling boyfriend. definitely needs a pay after all he's been through.

╰─▸ currently panicking because his girlfriend got stabbed.

l/n y/n. (22)

╰─▸ operative/member of the armed detective agency.

╰─▸ kenma's girlfriend. kinda dumb, very hot to compensate for it. still hasn't died yet.

╰─▸ currently bleeding and wounded. also hoping for severe blood loss.

"kenma, did you know" she mused in a teasing tone "lack of sleep and too much stress could possibly lead to poor memory and lack of awareness"

kenma looked up at her with a look of confusion. he was currently kneeled down before her while she was sat on the bed as he cleaned her wound up with a damp towel.

"why are you telling me this?" he asked

"i just thought it probably applied to you" she snickered

"why? i didnt forget anything-"

he cut himself off with a huge intake of air. he slowly turned his head to look at the screen which still had his stream going on. to make it worse, the camera was on and they were both clearly in the camera's field of view.

to make things worse worse, his mic was on the whole time and the live chat was in shambles.

"i hate it here" he sighed

kenma laid his head on her lap as he continued on patching her up, honestly not caring that this whole scene was being recorded for thousands or millions of people to see.

"well, atleast the internet could finally see my beauty before i die" she laughed

she ran her fingers through kenma's hair as he grumbled under his breath. kenma was a pretty private person. he made sure not to overshare, given his current 'influencer' status. and he was planning on keeping his relationship a secret, though it seems he can't do that anymore.

"might as well say hi" she shrugged

so of course, she then decided to walk up to the camera looking utterly dishevelled and roughed up.

for context, the newly wrapped bandages around her stomach was being stained already by a crimson red hue and it was only getting worse the more she moved, undoubtedly messing up her wound.

"hi, im kenma's girlfriend and if i see you flirting with him i will make you regret it" she grinned

"y/n!" kenma groaned from the bed "you're close to dying right now, turn the stream off"

ignoring him, she proceeded to read the veiwers' comments, laughing at some of them while she joked around.

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: heLLO?!?!

user: GE HAS A GIRLFRIEND NOOO

user: bruh, did i just hear that right? were you fuckin stabbed?

user: ur kinda hot tho

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

kenma furrowed his brows as he reluctantly walked up behind her, reading the comments with varying reactions

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: well damn, hot bloody girl comes in and suddenly im lesbian

user: kenma looks so done

kuroo.tetsu: hi y/n ;)

user: HER NAME IS Y/N

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

"jesus christ shut up, kuroo" kenma grumbled out with a sigh

"yup! yup! im y/n, and no, i am not a criminal. i swear." she shook her head

"i got an injury from my job, that's all." she cleared up

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: tangina nyo sana ol

user: MSKAKAKKA

user: THIS IS LOWKEY ICONIC

user: time to scratch another gamer boy off my possible bf list 😔

user: girl wtf happened to u

user: that's wack bro 🚶‍♀️

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

"great question, random person from the internet!" she beamed "see, what happened was.."

"i went on a certain mission and got severely injured. though, when i called for help nobody responded" she said

kenma furrowed his brows at her words. "why didn't anybody respond?" he asked. she sighed and fiddled with her torn bandages, pouting her lips as she does so.

"well, when i told them that i was finally on death's door, all they said to me was 'congratulations!' and all that.." she said "what's your take on that, hm?" she asked kenma

"im not surprised" he said

she grinned at his words and leaned in for a kiss. "you're so mean to me, kenma~" she whined

she licked her lips as she held his blushing face in her hands, she nuzzled their noses as she leaned in closer to him.

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

kuroo.tetsu: oh shit 😳

user: we all know where this is heading ;)

user: sana ol talaga punyemas

user: AYO CHILL

user: why we goin so fuckin fasstttt 😳

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

kenma hastily turned the camera off as soon as y/n's lips touched his.

"kitten, were still- hmph-"

he was only silenced as she slipped her tongue in his mouth, smirking lightly as she ran her fingers through his hair

"thanks babe." she said as she pulled away, giving him a soft peck on his cheek and a nod "anyways.." she hummed as she turned the camera on once again

she looked through the chat while kenma slaps his face to get rid of his blush.

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: ur fuckin freaky

kuroo.tetsu: oya oya 😼😼

user: MS MAAM I JUST MET U AND I LOVE U ALREADY WJABSJSJJS

user: not me blushing chiiilllleeeeee 🏃‍♀️

user: KENMA IS FLUSTERED

kuroo.tetsu: kenma, i didnt expect this from u 😼

user: im so fucking JEALOUS GRR😡

user: girl r u bleeding rn 😃

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

upon reading a certain comment, she subconsciously grazed her fingers against her bandaged wound. her eyes slightly widening as she felt a concerning amount of wetness seeping through

she glanced at kenma who was still calming himself down and inspected her wound

"oh my.." she muttered, though she couldn't help but let a smile slip through

so like any normal person would do, she simply ignored her bleeding wound and the fact that she was getting a bit lightheaded. haha <3

"anyways, let's answer some questions!" she beamed

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: what's ur full name

user: what's ur job miss girl

user: are you possibly looking for a gf, because i am more

than willing to take the spot 🚶‍♀️

user: how did you meet??

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

"alright, those are all very nice questions" she chuckled. kenma, who's now calmed down, sat down beside her to look at the chat.

"first, im l/n y/n" she mused "nice to meet ya"

"second im a detective! mhm, im cooler than your fathers"

"third, it depends, belladonna" she cooed as she sent the camera flirty smirk "are you perhaps willing to join me in a double suicide?"

"oh god.." kenma grumbled. he pouted at her and shook his head in disapproval. "don't flirt with random girls" he whined

"why not?"

"uh- because i am your beloved boyfriend, is that not good enough of a reason??"

"... anyways, we met at a cafe way back in high school" she said with a smile "also, i asked him to join me on a double suicide" she said

she was smiling and nodding as if it was the most normal thing in the world, all while kenma nods along

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: wtf are u okay 🗿

kuroo.tetsu: teenage romance 🤩

user: cute ❤️

user: im concerned ❤️

user: ur a detective?? cool

user: LMAOO I'LL GO ON A DOUBLE SEWER SLIDE

WITH U MOMMY 😩😩😋

user: ^^ SAME 😩

user: CHOKE ME WITH THOSE BANDAGES MOMMAE 😩

user: u r still bleeding 🚶‍♀️

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

kenma was simply glaring at the chat as more compliments and flirtatious comments came flowing in, all of which were directed to his girlfriend.

"this is why i didn't wanna let people know about you.." kenma grumbled

"aww, why not?" she asked with a playful pout

"people are flirting with you." he sighed "also, stop asking for my girlfriend's onlyfans! she doesn't even have one!" he snarled

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮

user: LMAOO CATBOY IS ANGRY 😩

user: y/n-senpai spit on me 😡😡

user: drop the onlyfans

user: chupapi munyanyo 😩

╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

"anyways, i'd hate to ruin the mood" she chimed in with a sluggish giggle "but im so wet kenma" she whined out

a menacing smirk was etched on her lips as kenma spluttered in response, a bright red hue covering his face almost instantly as he faced her with widened eyes

"y-y/n! why would you say that?!" he whisper shouted

"cuz i am" she whined out as she grabbed his hand and trailed it down her abdomen

she faced the camera and gave them a shit-eating grin as kenma mumbled out incoherent words

"y/n we should-" he cut himself off as he felt the concerning amount of blood drip down his whole arm

kenma's face paled as he looked up to see her smiling like a kid in a candy store, completely unbothered.

"y/n, you idiot! why didn't you tell me!" kenma exclaimed

"um- my girlfriend is bleeding. excessively. so uh- bye i guess" it was all he said before hastily ending his stream and turning off his computer.

"y/n, let's get you to a hospital" he said as he reached down to carry her away. though she simply slapped his hands off and closed her eyes.

"nope. this is my time, kenma. don't ruin it for me" she said

"you're fucking dying!!"

"well, would you like to join me?"

"no"

"damn." she muttered in response

"so...wanna fuck?" she asked sheepishly

"for the love of god-"

this was so messy :/

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moodyseal · 4 years ago

Text

One thing we don’t get often is to hear Shinichi make any sort of statement about what he is feeling, and not just an objective observation of the situation he’s in.

After 98 volumes and 1001 episodes (yikes), all we got were some casual “oh no the BO can’t find out about me or I’ll die” or “I will metaphorically smack them all in the face as soon as I find enough proof about them :)” or general thoughts about how embarrassing it is to be babied when you’re actually a high school student, but did we get anything deeper - something that actually concerns Shinichi’s outlook on how agonizing his situation actually is? Absolutely not.

I mean, with so many episodes and a bad memory such as mine it is nearly impossible to remember every single scene in DC and thus I may be missing something, but I think that at most we only got a couple of brief scenes of Conan actually looking sad for himself. Most of the time he is worried about how Ran is dealing with his absence or about how he wishes he could stay with her, and the few (relevant) instances of him thinking something like “Damn I wish I could still be a high school student, this sucks, I will not cry because I am a Manly Man but just know that I am, on the inside” were not really canon (as in they were not in the manga) - for example, that time when he was watching Ran and Sonoko go to school while being sick in OVA 9 and he wondered whether he would stay a child forever. Or even the openings - like the 28th, when there’s a shot of him standing in the rain as the singer goes “Even so, tears keep tumbling down my eyes, I think this may be a little bad” while a tiny drop of rain that might have been placed there casually (and it probably was) slides down his cheek, so it actually looks like a tear.

(man, you have no idea how much I love that opening)

And yet it’s weird, because being Conan definitely isn’t a walk in the park, seeing how he must lie and pretend everyday to fool the people around him (something that technically goes against his principles, I suppose?), and with the weight of a devious organization possibly going after him (and, honestly, at this point it’s just a matter of time until they find him, since they probably saw those few shots of him on the Internet and in the news broadcast), the fact that no one takes him seriously except the few people that know his identity or suspect him and the pain of being so close to the people he knew as Shinichi (his friends, Ran) and yet being unable to talk to them like he would like to and like he used to, no one would blame him if he just broke down at some point. But he doesn’t, and just ignores the situation completely until he has any clue about the BO.

It might not be as bad as Haibara’s situation, but while she is used to the ways of the organization and doesn’t really have anyone she needs to lie to except to the bad guys, Conan isn’t - before the whole mess happened, he was just a kid being a detective and getting excited about any new case, unable to understand the actual dangers of such a profession. That new reality came crashing onto him without a warning, and before Haibara was shrinked too he had to deal with that new situation completely on his own, alone in the action.

With The Scarlet School Trip, though, we get a subtle reference to those emotions, and it’s... really relieving. I think often about that “This is too much fun”, and I can’t get off my head how, while the situation is supposed to be light and happy because ohmygodtheyresoclose, it has a really, really sad tone to it. While he was Conan, Shinichi could ignore the joys of being a teenager for a while, at least to a certain extent: other than hanging out with Ran and Sonoko and other kids of his age and solving cases (something that, in a way, he still does), there couldn’t be many relevant things that he would miss, or that he could realize he would miss. After this trip, though, he knows what he’s missing and what he could do if he wasn’t a child - that “This is too much fun” is actually a “I know that the time I have with Ran and the others is short and I will soon be excluded from these normal experiences once again, yet I wish it wasn’t because I am actually enjoying myself after literal months and I don’t want to lose it all over again”.

I know that this might be obvious but I just wanted to point it out because I’m slowly losing my mind over this.

I hope that we’ll get more of that in the future, even if it’s just at the end, when Conan manages to defeat the organization. Seeing his cool and collected façade fade is immensely exciting.

#in short: unchill dear #it’s been too long since I made some sort of semi-analysis/commentary on something #I’m rusty #by the way if you know any fics that explore this aspect share them with me pls 🥺#detective conan #kudou shinichi #lonely thoughts

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lady-star-strings · 4 years ago

Text

About Dream’s Tweets...

To begin with, I’m demisexual and have been part of the community for years - I think I have pretty good credence to speak on this matter. I try not to throw my two cents into situations like this because I can’t stand the ignorant responses of the internet anymore at my age - DeviantArt Dark Ages vet right here - but sometimes I just have to. Whether you agree or not, I could honestly care less, but I would appreciate it if you read everything and gave it some thought before responding, be it positive or negative. With that said, let’s dive in...

At this point, if people are taking the shipping/fanservice jokes and banter between the Dream Team and other creators surrounding them seriously, I don't know what to tell them or really even say, honestly. They've all stated they're not looking to start relationships with each other - multiple times and on-stream/Twitter, might I add, because people keep donating and asking/demanding an answer to both that and about their sexualities - and that it's just messing around with friends. (If we want to talk about making people uncomfortable and being offensive in that regard, don’t you worry because I've got opinions on that too.) Bottom line is, you can't get mad at them for the fan-service now when you supported it before, especially when nothing has changed and they’ve been transparent about how everything actually is.

I understand that some may feel it’s an insensitive and inappropriate thing to do in some regards, and that's perfectly valid, but please don't go mobbing through the town with pitchforks over literal jokes between friends. Keep in mind, they’ve made it clear that’s all it was before people starting jumping down their throats, and still there are groups using their sexuality to attack them over it because "YoU'rE nOt MlM sO yOu CaN't MaKe ThOsE jOkEs, YoU'rE hOmOpHoBiC!!!!!" They're even openly attacking lesbians and bisexuals - whether they agree with them or not - because they're not gay and that somehow renders their words “invalid.” You can't accuse them of being ignorant for messing around as friends because it entertains the fans, and then turn around to attack literally the entire rest of the community for offering their opinions because they aren't valid enough for you in the argument to count - that makes you ignorant. You also can’t claim to be of the opinion that everyone’s sexuality is their own business, but then demand for them not to be ambiguous about it when it pleases you. Honestly, even thinking about people doing that is so incredibly hypocritical that it gives me whiplash.

I completely understand not everyone is a fan of this behavior, but to accuse them of queerbaiting, being homophobic and faking allyship over it all right now is just ridiculous and borderline disgusting to me. They've made it clear they're not romantically interested in one another countless times and that it's just fun between friends because they're super close - they aren't playing the "Am I, or am I not?" game with anyone for gain so no, they're not queerbaiting. Queerbaiting is when it’s not explicitly said at any point whether someone is or isn’t LGBTQIA+ so they can play both the community and conservative side by putting them in ambiguous situations that can lean one way or the other for gain, whether it be monetary or otherwise. Not to mention, if they were really as “homophobic” and “falsely allied” as everyone thinks, why would other LGBTQIA+ creators such as Antfrost, Eret, Scott Major, etc. not only support them, but also consider them friends? Again, I get the offense and hurt people might have taken from this behavior, but your opinions and feelings are ultimately not universal so while they are all valid, that doesn't make them right and the final say on the matter. I don’t mean this to say you’re wrong or inferior in the argument, just that you can’t demand others to see your point of view and abide by it without granting them the same respect. The road goes both ways kiddos, I’m sorry.

Side note, there's no one to blame but the fans themselves for the jokes and whatnot to have continued on this long because they not only supported it, but also actively encouraged it. It’s been taken so seriously that Dream has outright stated on a stream - and now on Twitter - that he and George aren't together and more than likely never will be because they're honest to goodness just really good friends screwing around. Now if you think you're uncomfortable as part of the community, how do you think they feel being accused every five minutes of being against it because they won’t openly state their sexuality? Not to mention, they can't ever talk about actual relationships or joke about other ships because people will literally send death threats to whoever the other party is because they're "rUiNiNg ThE sHiP" at this point - need I remind you of the Septiplier fiasco? It’s alright if it’s a persona or a personality, but for the love of all things holy, please stop treating people like Barbie dolls that you’re trying to make kiss. They gave us the go-ahead to ship them because it makes us happy and allows us to be creative with the concept - don’t ruin it by trying to force them to play the parts you’ve constructed in your head and then get pissy because they won’t.

Also, it is unbelievably messed up for you to donate money to ask their sexuality and/or for them to tell each other that they love them - which then basically makes it a demand because if they ignore it they get blasted for not responding and “taking their money.” For example, Dream will say he loves any of his friends without issue because he does - just not in the way everyone is assuming or wants - and that's just the type of person he is, but George doesn't like to express it that way and that's okay. He shows his love in other ways that we don't always need to know about or see to make it real, just as it is with anyone else in the world. I don’t know how so many people miss it, but when he gets a donation to tell Dream - or anyone for that matter - he loves him on stream, you can easily tell how uncomfortable it makes him - and yes Dream presses/teases him about it sometimes, but he still drops it and doesn't flame him for it for eternity. Those that donate and chat, on the other hand, will not let it go when he doesn’t say it and continue to pour donations in begging him to say it when he’s already made it clear he won’t. You honestly shouldn't be bribing them to say or do anything through donation because that's beyond messed up and manipulative, especially where these matters are concerned.

And even if they weren't straight - which used to be the case and may have changed by this time, we can’t determine such things nor should we try to - or were in a relationship with each other, it isn't any of your goddamn business to know - no way, no how. What they do offline and out of the public eye isn't anyone's business but their own and people need to respect that, not try to force it out of them or play detective to dox that information for the attention. I mean, if you want a good reason as to why Dream hasn't done a face reveal yet, this is absolutely number one on the list because there will be little to no form of privacy for him after he does and he isn't ready to lose that just yet. I certainly can’t blame him for that considering all that’s been happening to him and his friends as of late, and neither can multiple other creators who hold the same beliefs and fears - ie. CorpseHusband, H20Delirious, Ohmwrecker. No one should have to tip-toe on eggshells in their personal life because fans online don't understand boundaries, that's just cruel and unfair after providing the content and comfort that they do without asking anything but support in return.

At the end of the day, I truly just don't understand how people can join in and support the jokes that they've made clear are purely just messing around, but then turn around and crucify them for the exact same thing later down the road. How can you practically harass them about their sexuality and relationship status through providing monetary means, then go on a witch hunt because they’ve decided to be more private with that information in the present? You can't play both sides and then expect to somehow be right or justified in the situation whichever way the tide turns because, at that point, the only wrong one is you. I completely agree that they need to watch their step with what they say and do sometimes - just as everyone with a strong platform does - but only more so now because people will create a problem the second they do anything that could spin into them being horrible people with too much power.

They’re all still incredibly fresh and new to the realm of social media popularity all things considered, and they reached said popularity startlingly fast so it can’t be easy to adjust to all the attention on everything you say and do. With that said, they’re doing remarkably well so far and I have faith that they’re going to continue to learn and grow in this arena given the time. They might mess up and make mistakes - already have, in fact - but that’s part of the gig and you can’t always please or satisfy everyone, so the best you can do is acknowledge your faults and move forward. You can’t demand someone’s head on a pike when they’ve made an effort to right things and it wasn’t good enough for everyone, it’s just not a fair standard to hold anyone to. In that same vein, you also can’t demand whatever you want out of them with the excuse that they owe it to you as a fan - you’re not a fan in any way, shape or form when you play that card, and you need to either shape up or ship out if you're doing that.

If you don't support it and/or don't like it, just don't follow or watch them anymore, it’s truly as simple as that. You can't continue to watch and support them as a “fan” while also touting how ignorant and horrible they are as detractors, that's just not how it works - pick one or the other and stop attacking them and those that don’t agree with you. They’re only on year one of their careers and the amount of people trying to “cancel” and tear them down over things that really aren't issues already is ridiculous, you aren't the righteous keyboard warriors you think you are and it's things like this that are ruining the internet for everyone, not just you.

That’s all I have to say on the matter and will continue to say going forward - sorry if you came here looking for my usual nonsense, but I really felt this needed to be said and addressed. I usually try not to do these sort of rants, however, this is a serious matter and a discussion that we as a community have been needing to have for a while, so now’s as good a time as any.

So, with my peace being given and my two cents thoroughly tossed, why don’t we focus on the bigger issues with YouTube such as their blatant ignorance of pedophilia and copyright abuse? Those seem like a much bigger problems to address at this point in time since that effects creators and fans as a whole - both in the present and the future - don’t you think?

#don't sleep won't sleep #sleep is for the living #rants with mady #dream team #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #dreamnotfound #tldr #the hypocrisy is SCORCHING rn #there are no pedestals to me #been there done that with other creators #ain't no one special in my eyes #this is just an explanation of another viewpoint #all replies welcome #sorry not sorry kiddos #LGBTQIA+

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watching-pictures-move · 3 years ago

Text

Put On Your Raincoats #18 | Necromania (Wood, 1971)

I am not in the cult of Ed Wood. I'd seen exactly two of his films and did not gel to either one. I attempted many years ago to watch Plan 9 From Outer Space, called it quits a few minutes in, tried again last year and still found it a strangely unengaging experience. For lack of more a better word, its badness was too flat and dignified for my taste. (Give me the energetic good vibes of Miami Connection or Rock'n'Roll Nightmare any day.) I also watched Bride of the Monster, which I honestly didn't think was that bad. Yes, it's obviously cheap and technically inept, but is classed up enough by the Bela Lugosi performance that it almost takes the fun out of the experience. Some may find it endearing that Lugosi was still this committed at this stage of his career, but I found myself a bit depressed that a titan of cinema was reduced to such squalid work at the same time his health was failing. Yet, because of my interest in a certain genre and the fact that my curiosity sometimes gets the better of me, after discussing bad movies with my internet compatriots, I found myself compelled to check out Necromania, his hardcore porn feature.

The plot concerns a couple, pretending to be married, arriving at a creepy house in an effort to repair their love life with the help of a mysterious Madame Heles, who we learn is a necromancer (not a witch). We know the house is creepy as the boyfriend remarks upon entry "Any moment I expect Bela Lugosi as Dracula". We know their love life is in trouble when, after a bout of coupling, they have an exchange like this:

"Damn, I might just as well watch television. That's how much of a charge you give me."

"You just don't try hard enough."

"Hard, that's whole the problem."

The boyfriend spends the entire movie having his manhood attacked, in ways both bad (as above, or later being browbeaten by his girlfriend when he freaks out at the sight of two women having sex) and good (sexually speaking, finding itself in different orifices), or just flailing around as he struggles to put on a pair of pajames (which happens multiple times; don't you hate pants?). Lest you think he's having all the fun, his girlfriend, played by Rene Bond (the only recognizable face here; Maila Nurmi turned down the role Wood offered her) makes a new friend with a woman she bumps into when walking down the hallway, by which I mean they start fucking in the middle of the hallway. The movie's most stylistically sophisticated section cross-cuts between the girlfriend and boyfriend having sex with different partners, the sight of Rene Bond with her friend offering welcome but brief reprieves from the boyfriend's pasty ass as he thrusts into his partner. Of course, with the sound of a gong, the fun stops, the hero and heroine are brought to a room with a coffin, and we finally meet the Madame Heles that everyone has been talking about.

It's worth noting that this coffin owned by the Amazing Criswell (who wisely prophesized that "future events such as these will affect you in the future") and was an antique that apparently dated back to the Lincoln presidency. I say it's worth noting because it's much funnier to think it was in fact Lincoln's coffin that Madame Heles ends up fellating the hero in, although most viewers will be relieved that Lincoln is not actually in the coffin while they do the deed. Of course, this act wraps up the movie (which runs a brisk, merciful fifty-or-so minutes), but before then we're not treated to just the above events, but plenty of being spied on by owl eyes on the walls, being startled by a stuffed wolf, the sight of an orgy through a kaleidoscopic lens, a weird sex ritual in front of the coffin, and numerous reminders that the leads are not married. (Apparently Wood adapted the story from a novel and changed the status of their relationship, with the only reason I can discern that he can repeatedly bring it up in the dialogue.)

And plenty of sluggish, low energy sex while out of sync moaning and loud music permeate the soundtrack. (Wood's preference appears to be rockabilly, but he finds room for jazz and big band.) And plenty of the hero's dangling penis while he struggles with the act of putting on pajamas. I describe the movie somewhat facetiously, but truth be told, it's not unenjoyable. Plenty of the dialogue is intentionally humorous. ("Good lord." "You can say that again." "Good lord.") And the mix of rough, spotty filmmaking and the idiosyncratic set design has the film settling into a pretty distinct rhythm during its brief runtime. Wood seems to almost mock the genre as he executes it in the most rudimentary manner possible (as with a lazily leering pan of Bond's body as she argues with her boyfriend about his inability to please her) and often seems more interested in the decor he's picked out or the stilted acting than in the sight of nude bodies in sexual congress. Those whose experience in Wood's oeuvre runs deeper than mine can perhaps detect greater significance or traces of his personality in the work (this was made after his most famous films but before he started churning out loops), but I liked this, all things considered.

#film #put on your raincoats #movie review #necromania #ed wood #edward d. wood jr.

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yuvon-writes-letters · 3 years ago

Note

Hey Yuvon, Jake.

I am sorry if this letter becomes shorter than the last one, I am on my way to work for..yeah probably the last time for now. At least till it is safe to go.

I am a bit nervous, but I can go through it. Everything is done, my clothes, tickets, motel (for the moment, I have the feeling that staying in one place wouldn't be good. Dangerous.). Only the afternoon has to come...And that means I have to somehow get home without anxiety when I see a guy in mask near the street I live in. But that's fine. I have Jake and Max this time. It won't repeat itself.

As for the deciphering, I would say I'd love to try and help...But if you can't do it then I don't exactly know if I could either.

Yes, I imagine Yuvons behaviour could be because of Jessicas last letter. I really can empathise her actions if it is because of that. I'd love to do that, too, but then everyone who gets a look at my flat thinks I'd be kidnapped. Yah, no thanks.

You're right, I didn't think of that yet.

[A mini paper is taped above that, as if the sentence was just added later] (It seems Jake already did! But didn't get the chance to test it yet.)

No problem about the word association :) Even though I needed to stop, I got a bit dizzy again. Maybe I really need to live a bit healthier in the moment. Cannot say I ate and slept enough in the TSB timeline.

Yeah, I know you understand Yu. If it gets to bad, tell me, yeah? Then we can write a bit 'alone'. Like...Detective Inc. talk, okay? [A small girl giving a hug to another girl is scribbled, but far less detailed and sketchier than normal]

You never mentioned those two words? Are you completely sure, Yuvon?

(Jakes, if anyone except for my counterparts would kindly stop reading here as long as I write in purple)

Yuvon, are you really okay? What do you mean with 'You have no plan'. I am worried about you.

Dang, I don't have much more time. But Jake wanted to adress you again real quick :)

Lis🐾🔥

[Again the screenshot of Jakes message is glued to the back of the letter]

The 'part of who you are since birth' is something I completely understand. Social anxiety made my life much more difficult, but without it I wouldn't be where and who I am today. It is always interesting to figure out things in which we are similar to each other.

I am not overly concerned either, thanks to you I got some advantages. Also that we, thanks to 'Goldie' and the TSB timeline, know that the Man without a Face is possibly a hacker, too.

I am honestly not completely sure what to think of the word association. You also noticed how Liskas writing changed, right? And that she suddenly stopped.

How did you get the idea to give her this word association? And what did you intend on figuring out?

As for your last part...I don't think we should be that surprised about defying the laws of physics anymore. It becomes far too normal.

~ Jake

(There are eraser marks in the margins again.)

Lis,

You'll make it, I know you will. Just one day, and you can get out of there. Stay safe, stay alert, and stick to crowds where possible, and you'll be just fine.

Yeah, I took a glance at the cipher over Jake's shoulder and I've got nothing. It's just scribbles to me. I might get something on a closer look, but I sort of doubt it.

That letter thing would be cool to test sometime, but like Jake said earlier. Priorities.

Make sure you're drinking enough, okay? Especially if you end up going someplace sunny. But I'm sure the dizziness isn't going to be anything too important for the moment. We can address it later, when you're safer.

Thank you, Lis. I might take you up on that offer to talk later. But I can't now. And I never said those two words. Nor do I have a plan. Gur ragvgvrf znl or noyr gb ernq zvaqf, naq gurl qrsvavgryl pna ernq gurfr yrggref.

—Yu

(The handwriting changes to Jake's.) Hello, Lis.

As Yuvon said, exercise caution when returning to your workplace, but if all goes as expected and as planned you should have no issues. Once you are done, if you bring your phone on your vacation, do not answer calls from numbers you do not know, and especially do not answer the kidnapper's calls and messages.

Thank you for the offer of help :) However, I will manage alone eventually. It will simply take time. A lot of time.

At least I know the cause of her behavior now. I am somewhat at a loss for what to do about it, though. I will do my best to lighten her mood, but given that I am a living reminder of the issue, that may prove difficult.

I second Yuvon's suggestion of hydration. Dehydration has been proven to have several negative effects on the body.

That is all for now, Lis. I will speak to you later.

Jake,

As Yuvon was the one to come up with the idea, I will let her explain her thought process behind the word association.

(The handwriting changes to Yuvon's.) Lis said something a bit weird in the last letter. She was talking about how Goldie had likely helped things settle in the TSB timeline and mused that Goldie probably did all they could. Then Lis' writing grew neater (hope Jake showed you the word association thing so you know what I'm talking about) and she wrote "Like they always did..." before mentioning being dizzy, and seemingly forgetting she wrote that entirely.

I've known for a while that Lis had some memories relating to Goldie she couldn't access for one reason or another, but I hadn't seen the block waver until then. I theorized that I might be able to bypass the block at least partially if I approached it indirectly, and it seems I was right to an extent. It's only too bad I can't do anything with scents, scents are heavily tied to memories.

I didn't have anything particular in mind to uncover at the time, but I figured that if Lis let slip characteristics of Goldie or snatches of memories, those could be useful later. I hadn't expected to nearly get a name, though— see how the first letter is capitalized? Definitely a name. I think I have an idea what the name is, but I don't want to say or write it until we want Goldie's attention. It's probably Latin, though, and you might want to check the root of the alchemical symbol for gold on the periodic table.

I think the words we can safely associate with Goldie, however, are: best friend, past, safety, familiarity. Silver is another possibility, but that may just be an association with gold.

...I wonder when Goldie's going to send me the pissed-off letter yelling at me for meddling in the secrecy of their identity XD

Because I have such a good track record for respecting privacy and secret identities.

(The writing changes to Jake's.) I am back.

The similarities and differences are quite fascinating, yes. If only we could conduct some sort of study where we could learn how Jakes differ and how they remain the same from universe to universe. But that would require that they trust we are who we say we are, and that their Detectives actually open the letters we've been sending. So it seems unlikely that will ever happen.

Yes. The news about the kidnapper being a hacker is still troubling to me, even all this time later. He must be quite skilled, for the likes of us to only realize from his own mockery that he is one. We will need to remain on guard. I will also need to begin monitoring the situation in Duskwood again. If the kidnapper has been freed from the stasis, I will need to work rather hard to keep that group safe, especially now that I do not have all my equipment. And very limited Internet access.

I really should not be shocked at this point, especially given the experiences Yuvon has recounted to me and the fact that I have not needed to eat nor drink since coming to this place. I suppose that was simply the first time I directly saw the lack of logic, other than in Yuvon sending the letters.

I have little more to say. Goodbye for now,

Jake

(The letter tucks itself in the paper clip with the others.)

#duskwood letter game #yuvon writes letters #duskwood #duskwood game #duskwood everbyte #duskwood jake #lis

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prettynxsty · 4 years ago

Text

Scented Wood III

Sub!Chan x Domme!Reader

1 2 3 4

Featuring: Officer!Jeonghan from SVT, Police Chief!Jinyoung from GOT7, Yandere!Hyunjin from SKZ

Warning: Y/n is still an asshole serial killer, cursing, mentions of death, hot coffee, chan gets mad, there’s some self deprecation too.

AN: Hyunjin is finally fully established as a main, and boom he’s just as screwed up in the head. He is also a lil thot.

You were too absorbed in the discussion to even notice the sound of the door shutting. Why would Jinyoung assign Chan a partner - could he not handle the case himself? Chan was a good fuck, but he obviously didn't seem like a good detective if the boss is giving him a babysitter.

Or maybe it's to just show Hyunjin around. Who knows. Shaking your head as if to dispense the thought, you sighed, "Yeah, come here. I've got an extra copy in my desk."

Hyunjin smiled almost flirtatiously, "Thanks, Noona," he said, and you rolled your eyes, but couldn't ignore the prickling of your ears in response as you made your way towards your office, Hyunjin trotting on your heels. You saw Chan in front of the door, and stopped for a moment, wondering what he was doing, but didn't think anything of it, entering your office without a word.

You took a quick glance around the room, noting that everything was in its proper place. You hoped Hyunjin didn't notice the stench of cigarettes in the office, but even if he did, the kid seemed fairly laid back. You walked behind your desk, opening the drawer that you kept an assortment of files in (when they aren't in storage), and grabbed the right one from memory, holding it out.

"That should be everything you need. It's not much. Whoever's behind these killings is good," you said, as if tooting your own horn. Hyunjin took the file, opening it and skimming through it for a moment before shutting it and tucking it underneath his arm.

"Perfect. Can I take you out for coffee sometime? You know, to discuss the case," Hyunjin met your eyes, smiling, and you hated the fact you considered it for a moment.

"Well, I'm not a profiler. I can just tell you what the scene tells me."

Hyunjin still shook his head, as if that was a stupid excuse. "Please. I'm sure you have some good thoughts on the case, don't you?"

You thought for a moment, then nodded. "Sure. Sometime Sunday."

Hyunjin smiled in response before leaving the office happily.

Chan felt like he swallowed a boulder, quickly heading back towards the office. There had to be something on his side, something had his back in that moment. His head was swimming from the anxiety rush, it was like the big drop on a roller coaster and his stomach didn't catch up with the rest of his body.

He nodded his head at a few officers he passed until he reached his desk, more than aware that he was as pale as a ghost. The color was slowly returning to his naturally flushed cheeks, but he seemed a bit visibly shaken. It was a very bold thought to assume that you could be associated with this killer, no way. You couldn't be connected to the elimination of killers, no way. Chan tried to convince himself, shaking his head as he logged on to the computer and opened the case files. "Maybe I can try to remember what she told me..."

Chan tries to wrack his brain for what you told him, trying to recreate the scene in his mind. The footprints at uh.... What was it? Where was it? The footprints at uh.... God! Why didn't he take the paper with him!

His face twists in irritation and he bangs a fist over the glossy brown oak. He got a few confused stares, but he was too deep in thought to pay it much mind. Maybe he should just shoot you an email and ask you to send what you knew. Should he?

You grabbed your black coat and your phone and keys, looking around the office quickly to see if you forgot anything, before walking out, shutting the door behind yourself. You still had a lot of time before Hyunsung gets off of work, so you might go out to eat, head home and shower first - try and look up his associates on the internet, see if you could find any leverage on the guy.

If you could get Hyunsung to act as a rat, you could find out who Taehyun's boss is instantly; that's your next target. You passed the desks of your coworkers, casting your gaze towards Chan. The man seemed frustrated, like something was on his mind. You did have time to spare, but you didn't want Chan getting any ideas... Should you ask what's wrong?

You couldn't find a reason not to, so you walked up to Chan's desk, leaning against the wood and looking down at Chan, who seemed worse for wear.

"What's up yours?" You asked, casting a glance over his computer and seeing the case files, eyeing the familiar names. He must be looking at the case again. Fuck. You should be used to this by now, but it still nerves you just a bit.

You tensed slightly, "Can't you just... let Hyunjin handle some of this stuff? You seem... I don't know, pissy. Your face is all scrunched up."

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, he was done with thoughts of you for the night. But now it was almost like he couldn't escape you, be it in person or in his mind. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the familiar voice, he couldn't have ever predicted that you would approach him first seemingly out of the blue.

"Oh, uh, it's uh-," his mouth just seemed to have a mind of his own, deciding to make him look stupid. Chan tried to come up with an excuse, maybe he could chalk this off to some meaningless thoughts instead of provoke suspicion.

Chan scrubs a hand over his face with a sigh, pushing out a bit of authentic laughter. It was mostly laughter due to his current panic, but he could make it work for this situation.

He looks up at you and shrugs, "Jeonghan and I have this little prank war going on and he honestly like, just scared the piss out of me.”

It wasn't entirely a lie, but Jeonghan was definitely on late night patrol right now, but you didn't have to know that.

"Uh, what's with you? Kinda being more of a dick than usual." Chan pointed out, pursing his lips, knowing full well that his response was petty.

You bit your tongue for a moment. You were always a dick, Chan is just usually better and not being a bitch. You were probably a little more skittish, but how could you not, considering two days ago you were giving an abuser a blood eagle. You'd say you’re doing fairly well for an up-and-coming serial killer.

"I guess I'm under a little stress, considering I've been giving you more dick than usual," you joked, sliding on your coat.

"But if you wanna be that way, be that way. Just wanted to be polite."

Chan shook his head, still cracking an amused smile at your words. One of your quips wasn't enough to ruin his night, he knew you too well to let it get under his skin. But suddenly there was a thought that did get under his skin. The origami book, the scraps of emerald green paper. Should he just try to nip his suspicion in the bud? Maybe he had the gall, Chan reaches out, placing a gentle hand on your arm.

"Oh, uh, hey Y/n.”

Chan glances up, searching in your eyes for a second. Suddenly he was bombarded with so many things to say, he wasn't really sure what was about to come out of his mouth. He really hoped and prayed that he wasn't about to say something really fucking stupid right now, this night couldn't get any weirder.

"You uh, origami, I mean uh, I like it, do you?"

What the FUCK man. Come on idiot! Chan couldn't have felt any more ashamed of himself! Damn!

You furrowed your eyebrows for a moment, before trying to realize what he'd said, then you felt your stomach drop. It was like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs, and the fear of being caught made your throat tighten up. You knew what would happen if you got caught; California wasn't a death penalty state.

You would die in prison. This was it - no more friends, only quick fucks and victims. You couldn't risk it. You'd have to go on the coffee date with Hyunjin to stay on his good side, but past that, nothing. You quickly started thinking if you had left anything to suggest that you practiced origami in the office - you had a book, but you could have sworn that you left it in your car... You looked up from your hands, catching Chan’s eye, and realizing that you hadn't said anything for a moment. You needed to think of an excuse. Fast.

You couldn't think of anything to say. Your mouth hung agape, brows lowering as you searched for a thought.

"I... never really thought of... Why does that concern you?"

Your voice cracked slightly, and you cursed yourself for never losing that damn crack. You clenched your hands to stop the tremors, sliding them in your coat pockets, and ultimately shrugged off Chan’s hand on you.

Chan manages to shake the heavy disappointment in himself, returning his focus to you to get an answer. You had a damn good poker face, but it only lasted so long until it started to crack. He was more than aware that it began to crack, but why? Were you covering up for this guy?

He might have been causing a ruckus for no absolute reason. As you shrugged his arm away, he took note of this, pulling his arm back and resting it in his lap.

"Oh, okay. Uh, see you around then.." He responds slowly, nodding. Chan decided to just let it go for now, he would remember this later on though.

Hyunjin was headed to Chan’s desk, files in hand, and two cups of coffee. He walked slow enough to make sure he didn't drop anything, but as quick as his legs could take them. He needed Chan to teach him everything they knew about this case so far, get him up to speed, so they could finally start talking suspects.

Hyunjin looked across the room, eyeing the desks filled with people, successfully spotting Chan at his desk. He seemed to have his "thinking face" on, he almost looked upset.

Before he could take another step, you pushed passed him quickly, and out the door. Huh, he thought. Must be leaving early. He shrugged the weird encounter over, heading over to Chan’s desk.

"I bring good tidings of great joy!" He said, setting the coffee down in front of him with a smile on his face.

"Only Officer Hwang could keep smiling during these trying times, " Chan mused poetically as he brought himself back to earth. He wasn't going to tell Hyunjin about his suspicions, he needed to do further investigation before he could make that bold of a statement.

Can't always trust the new kid on the block, but it wasn't his thing to bust the new guy's chops. He was going to put some of his money on Hyunjin, he had untapped potential, but what if it were dangerous? Whatever.

"What's up?"

Hyunjin pushed the coffee a little closer to Chan, to get him to notice it.

"I wanted to help you," he offers, pulling up a chair from an empty desk and taking a seat right before him. He sat the file out on the table neatly, before grabbing his cup of coffee and taking a sip. He was more than eager to catch this criminal - specifically because he's been causing a bit of a ruckus, making it infinitely harder for Hyunjin to do his own work - his killings.

The Pine Killer burned him, ruthlessly taking away his time to shine. With cops patrolling at every corner trying to investigate, it makes it infinitely harder to make his own name. All of his plans, down to minute details, were ripped out from under him like a rug.

Just as he hated the Pine Killer, he loved them. Hyunjin had the mind to play the same game, he wanted to meet his new obsession. Enamored by each artistic treat left behind, he yearned to taste their skin. His dangerous penchant was wanting what he couldn’t have.

He lived in LA his entire life, he's been wanting to kill since he was a kid, there was no way in hell he was going to let some gimp with a god complex ruin his chances. He looked up to Chan, smiling still.

"Chief assigned me to help you out with your case." More specifically, bribed to assign him. "So... catch me up to speed."

Chan flashed Hyunjin a grateful smile, wrapping his hands around the styrofoam cup and blowing on it before taking a sip. Liquid fire, just like he liked it, boiling hot. It was nice of him, but there was something different about this approach. What did he want?

It was a kind gesture, but he didn't really need help from anyone, he was open to hearing some suggestions though. He watches Hyunjin carefully as he opens his mouth to speak, and what he said gave Chan a shock.

He chokes on the steaming liquid, coughing as it burns the back of his throat, nearly shooting out of his nose.

"What?!" Chan sputtered through his coughs, trying to catch his breath.

Hyunjin flushed red, glancing around his shoulders to meet the curious eyes that befell upon them. He set his cup back down, his fingers drumming onto the file.

"Look, it wasn't my decision, but I think it would be really good for you. I mean this is a tough case, and I'm eager to learn, it's like I won't even be there," he tried to explain quickly, his words stumbling as he tried to keep Chan from blowing up. He met his eyes, searching for any sign of anger or malcontent.

Chan couldn't believe his ears! Jinyoung put him with one of the puppies?! Are you kidding?!

"Absolutely not. Oh my God!" He clears his throat, much more bewildered than angry at this very moment. This definitely had to be a joke, he must have been dreaming. It would be a good time to wake up now, because this dream got him good.

"You're not kidding, are you?"

#sub!chan #sub!skz #sub!stray kids #dom!reader #domme!reader #sub!hyunjin #yandere hyunjin #yandere!hyunjin #yandere reader #yandere!reader #stray kids angst #sub!idol #sub idol

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recentanimenews · 4 years ago

Text

OPINION: How Umineko Changed My Entire Approach to Fictional Media

All screenshots captured on Playstation 3 by author

The following article contains a discussion of thematic elements and motives that appear during the second half of Umineko When They Cry. While no actual plot details will be revealed, some might still consider it spoilery. So if you want to experience one of the greatest pieces of fiction ever completely untainted, you should check it out on Steam right now.

The internet is pretty rad, isn't it? You can follow your favorite creators, watch tons of awesome shows, and talk about your favorite things with other people. How about we do that right now? Well, too bad, because YOUR FAVORITE THING IS BAD, ACTUALLY! You made the mistake of posting about it online, so prepare to be sent lots of negative comments linking to 5-hour video essays pointing out every single flaw about your favorite story and why you are wrong for enjoying it!

It's a situation I'm sure many of us have experienced at least a couple of times online. While the internet can be fantastic for finding like-minded people to chat with about things you deeply love, it can also be a gamble and sometimes you end up in a discussion where your conversational partner seems more interested in showing off their intellectual superiority over a work instead of openly discussing its merits or flaws. I certainly know — I used to be one of them.

"As I've eaten my way through countless tales to escape boredom, I haven't really been eating them. I've just been killing them." - Hachijo Tohya

The rise of social media has opened the gates for some incredible in-depth discussion and has changed the way I experience things over the years. But there is also a dark side to the discussions on the internet and that is the trap of wanting to feel intelligent in how you approach stories, which is often accompanied by not really being emotionally earnest. I myself tried to come off as perceptive by pointing out so many mistakes and bad things about media which led to exactly one thing: me becoming absolutely miserable. All I cared about was consuming as many things as possible (FOMO's also one of the many downsides of social media) and appearing as "smart" about them as I could. Until one fateful 10-month stretch in which I played a certain visual novel known as Umineko When They Cry.

Umineko really is tailor-made for catching people with that mindset: It depicts a mystery story about how mystery stories are told and consumed — and what genre would be more fitting to challenge someone concerned with intellectual superiority than one that is all about the clash of Author vs Reader?

"Books aren't a competition. It's not about who's read the most. But boasting that you've read all your ever need to read is just as wrong-headed" - Battler Ushiromiya

Umineko starts off with a well-known mystery trope: A family meets up in a mansion on a distant island, gets cut off by a storm, and then slowly gets murdered one after the other until everyone is dead. And just as in Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None (which served as one of Umineko's main inspirations), a bottle detailing the events of the incident to the public eventually washes ashore. But this only serves as Umineko's prologue, as its main character Battler quickly finds himself facing off against a self-proclaimed Golden Witch known as Beatrice on a meta-narrative level where he must prove these gruesome killings could have been committed by a human culprit, or be forced to acknowledge her existence and allow her to fully revive.

Thus begins a game of chess filled with exceedingly preposterous murders in which our protagonist's family gets killed by demons, giant goat butlers, and sharpshooting bunny girls — all supplemented by the so-called Red Truth, a truth-revealing tell not unlike Martha's vomiting in Knives Out. Battler must use these authorial proclamations and find a loophole that enables him to explain the murders in a way that does not frame any of his beloved family members as the killer and still allows him to deny the existence of the gruesome and torturous witch.

Umineko's all about how stories are perceived and told by both their creator and their audience. It explores how remarks by the author in every situation — no matter how off-hand they might be — can be used, applied, and twisted to shed a completely different light on a story regardless of its original intent. It shows how adding meaning to a narrative that wasn't meant to be there can both add to or subtract from its most important element: The heart its creator wanted to convey.

"If I had found meaning in only exposing the truth, I would have sunk to the level of a truth-revealing witch and fallen into ruin, spreading only hatred, [...], crushing and refusing to acknowledge anything but the particular truth I seek, unable to escape the cycle of misery." - Ange Ushiromiya

Umineko goes through many different angles of how we create, share, and discuss the tales that fuel our discourse. It ponders the importance of rules when creating storylines and tackles how easy it is to overlook major themes and motives by just focussing on minute details that are open to misinterpretation and irrelevant to a story's soul. It even includes the typical misanthropic yet oh so intelligent detective that usually gets idolized in most media (think BBC's Sherlock or House, M.D.) and puts them at odds with every other character because who would really want to cooperate with someone that completely disregards you as an equal human being and merely perceives you as an amalgation of hints, motives and alibis?

"Sheesh! Just one more step and I'd have been able to take a heart as innocent as the smooth sand just after a wave had pulled back and tear it to bits. What a shame. This isn't fun anymore." - Erika Furudo

And just when you start to really get into Umineko, it moves away from its main conflict, providing you important hints for its solution which most readers ignore as they aren't presented with facts and logic but on an emotional level distanced from the characters we long to get back to. But most importantly, it conveys how one single element is so indispensable to enjoying the narrative odysseys we embark on in our lives, to cherishing the characters that are presented to us in these tales, and to truly understand a story's message behind things like story developments, plot twists, and narrative tricks. I, of course, am talking about love.

Be it the love you feel for characters, for certain staging elements, phrasings of prose, orchestrations of music, design of sound effects, implementations of themes and motives, or cinematographic puzzle pieces — the one thing that is indispensable to truly enjoy all kinds of media, is love. Or, to quote Umineko directly, "Without love, it cannot be seen."

By the time, I was nearing the end of Umineko's eight main chapters, it had transformed from an intellectual battle between author and reader to an all-out war of a story against its community of readers who simply wanted to tear it down to cold, hard "facts." I had spent ten months and over 100 hours. The first half took eight of those months to get through (owing to a few lengths in Episodes 2 and 4), I finished the second half in less than two despite my busy schedule. I even dedicated a whole 15-hour marathon to the final episode as I was too glued to the grand finale to move away from it.

A new me came out the end. I no longer had an interest in tearing apart media for minor missteps. I enjoyed them much more deeply and honestly and began taking my time with the things I consumed. Instead of filling my plate at the buffet of stories as much as I could, I gave each dish its own course on the menu so I could appreciate its flavor in a different way — one bite at a time and not stuffed up simply to give the outward appearance of a seasoned gourmet. And for that, I will never be able to thank Ryukishi07 and his co-creators at 07thExpansion enough.

"The point of theory-making is not to create a culprit or to trample the truths that lie in the hearts of those who have not sinned. If you want to play detective, don't neglect the heart. Otherwise, we're just intellectual rapists. Don't forget it!!" - Willard H. Wright

If you are interested in reading Umineko When They Cry, you can find both its Question Arcs and its Answer Arcs on Steam, GOG, and MangaGamer. You can also read the manga adaptation digitally on Bookwalker (though I personally recommend the visual novel for its award-worthy soundtrack alone).

What work of fiction has touched your life in a profound way? Tell us in the comments!

René Kayser works for Crunchyroll as a PR and Social Media Manager in Germany. You can find him on Twitter @kayserlein where he tries to get people into Umineko every single day.

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: [email protected]

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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monchikyun · 4 years ago

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30. bet you’ll love me

Everything is new to Connor. He is still finding pieces of himself in various places, trying to build himself up as he’s learning more about the world around him. A world that isn’t bordered by a code or defined by his mission. It has been an intimidating notion to be considered a human, he’s felt overwhelmed and lost, at times, but as months passed, the initial awkwardness of being new among other real people has washed out, leaving only the wonderfully mundane stuff behind, like doing chores and finding out that he maybe has a crush on one of his coworkers.

The people who used to fear him and project their hatred by proxy are now more or less becoming his friends or at least casual acquaintances. This of course includes detective Reed, the one person who might have probably been scared of him the most. They are more or less ignoring each other nowadays, but sometimes Connor catches the man stealing glances at him, which is not exclusive only to Reed. Because Connor watches too, whenever he has the opportunity to. Maybe he subconsciously tries to impart his inner-most feelings to him, tries to create something between them that isn’t there. It’s very unproductive and he cannot find a rational explanation for this, but he has been told that’s more than normal when one is not a flawless machine. So he accepts it as it is without trying to solve the mystery it carries around with it, just enjoying the fact that he’s able to experience such a natural thing. The pain that comes with it is just a necessary evil.

But the longer he allows those emotions to course freely through him, the more his overall mood worsens. He doesn’t know what the most correct course of action in this particular scenario would be, and he most certainly won’t find out by dwelling on it inside his overwhelmed mind. There is of course the internet at his infinite disposal, but he tries not to rely on it so much. It feels like cheating, like he’s robbing himself of organic development. So he opts to ask one of his friends, despite the embarrassment he’ll suffer from due to divulging a personal sentiment such as this. The person he chooses ends up being none other than Gavin’s own buddy Tina, and not only because her insight has the best chance of proving to be the most helpful. Connor simply likes talking to the sharp-tongued young woman. She doesn’t keep sweet with him, doesn’t act like he’s any better than the rest of them. He gets grounded by her blunt words, and that’s just what he needs right now.

“No fucking way. Talk about coincidences.”

Connor partly hopes that this means just what he suspects it would. The other part of him, the one that is readying him to bolt is convinced that it’s a completely unrelated statement.

Tina’s interest has perked up when he confessed that he maybe, possibly likes detective Reed for some weird reason. Honestly, it is more like an itch he can’t scratch, mildly infuriating and begging to be dealt with.

“Do you think I should talk to him about it?” He can’t imagine how that conversation would possibly go, and he isn’t sure he’d really like to find out.

“Absolutely not. It would be a terrible idea, trust me on this.”

Her voice drips sincerity and he loses all grounds not to do what she says. His heart sinks to his stomach, though, despite the small surge of relief that came over him right after he’d got his answer.

He is stupid for believing this would lead anywhere good. Utterly foolish for thinking that there is someone for whom he meant something, something other than just becoming friends with the most advanced android in existence.

So he goes on with his days, pretending like this doesn’t faze him. Days turn into weeks, and he still can’t get rid of that weight inside of his chest. Whenever he finds himself in detective Reed’s proximity, the man’s stress levels rise and his pulse elevates. Either he’s afraid of Connor, or… but there is no “or”, there can’t be, no matter how much he wishes for the detective to like him back, it’s never going to happen.

It’s Friday, an unusually slow one, for which he’s thankful. Connor is in low spirits, counting the minutes remaining until he can go home. Three hundred thirty-nine and counting. He looks at detective Reed for the fifth time this morning and when nothing out of the ordinary happens as a result, he decides to go make a coffee for Hank, since his attention is slipping and he caught him closing his eyes for longer than it would be deemed safe was he driving. He isn’t, luckily so, but his list of transgression is lengthy enough as it is.

He stands in front of the coffee machine, hypnotised by the steady flow of liquid that is filling the plastic cup, not paying attention to his surroundings.

That’s why he doesn’t notice the figure joining him in the break room, why he’s oblivious that someone is creeping behind him like a silent assassin.

“Connor.” His name gets called in that terrifyingly familiar voice, which is a first. A wonderful first.

He turns around, attempting to present himself as casually as he’s able to, to hide his traitorous nervousness.

“I like you.”

Reed says it like he’s talking about the downpour behind the windows, like it doesn’t concern him at all. And before Connor can react in any way, he’s gone, leaving the android in an utter state of shock. He can’t be sure it really happened, that it wasn’t just his overactive imagination preconstrucitng indulgent scenarios on its own.

Still, he forgets about the coffee and runs back to the office, not being surprised when he finds Reed’s desk empty. Connor catches him outside just as he’s about to unlock his car. The few moments they spend in the rain are enough to soak them, making them look like they went for a swim without taking off their clothes.

The detective gives him a look that betrays vulnerability and verifies the truth of his statement.

And Connor can’t help himself anymore.

“I like you, too,” he shouts through the onslaught of raindrops, to make sure the other man hears him properly. A boulder has been lifted from where his heart lies, and he feels like crying. But it wouldn’t be fair for him to do that, so he lets the sky do it for him instead.

“Okay, great. What now.” Not the response he expected, but at least Reed doesn’t flee, which is a success on its own.

Even if Connor knew the answer to that, it’s not like he could afford to do anything at this moment. He’s still on the clock, after all.

“You should go now. But call me sometimes after six, if you want. I know you have my number.” To that, the detective nods and hurriedly enters his car. Connor watches as it speeds away and gets swallowed by the drenched city.

“It was a bet.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Tina bet me to say those words to you before you would.” Gavin exhales and wishes that his corrupted soul escaped together with the released breath.

“Oh. You won, then.” And Connor sounds so hurt he wants to scream. At himself mostly, for being such a terrible person and causing the broken sound being spilled from Connor’s lips.

He’s glad he can’t see the android right now, that at least he’s spared the opportunity to touch him. But he wants to do just that, more than anything else in the world.

“No, I didn’t. I… don’t want that money, not anymore.” He squeezes his eyes shut and imagines that he’s someone who has the right to say what he’s about to because there is nothing that would stop him from doing so.

“I meant it, Connor. I do like you, maybe even more than that.”

It wouldn’t take much to fall in love with him if, he’s painfully aware of that.

“Is this just a part of that challenge?”

“No, of course not. I realise I have no right to ask you to trust me, not after all this shit, so I won’t. Just know that I’m really, truly sorry. For everything. And I know you deserve-“

“Shut up. I meant it too, you know. I still do, even though I fucking mad at you right now. And at Tina.”

“Didn’t know you were allowed to swear. It’s kinda hot coming from you.”

“Don’t push it.”

Yeah, he figures. It’s just that he has a nonexistent impulse control.

“Will.. will you forgive me?” He gives up on concealing his anxiety, the self-loathing caused by his recklessness. His voice has its own say and there is not much he can do about it.

“We’ll see. Depends on how you’ll behave from now on.”

His absolute best. Gavin can’t do anything but bet Connor’s affection on it.

@convinseptember thank you very much for this challenge! I’m glad I was able to participate ♥

#convinseptember #convin #my favourite thing about convin is that I can project my own experiences onto them I guess xD #this happened to me but without the last part when they had the phone-call unfortunately xD #but it was back in middle school so it doesn't count :D

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karama9 · 4 years ago

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Foreshadowing...?

Of the bad kind. This is about JK Rowling and her transphobia, so trigger warning here. I’ll tag too.

To be clear, yes, I’m calling her transphobic. I know she disagrees, I think mostly because she believes she doesn’t actively want to harm anyone, but she is delusional in thinking she’s not in fact harming transgender people by denying their identity and excluding trans women from women places. Her words and actions have been harmful and it is due to her inability to accept and recognize that transgender women are women and transgender men are men. Anyway, I’m not here to even debate that. As far as I’m concerned, it’s obvious and goes without saying.

I wanted to point out another red flag. I’m sure it’s been mentioned somewhere before because I can’t imagine being the only one who picked up on it, but I haven’t seen it discussed much when I last looked a few weeks back. I didn’t look very hard, so I might have missed it, but this post is just to boost awareness of a disturbing parallel.

As you may know, Rowling writes a series of detective novels under the pen name Robert Galbraith. We could talk all day about using a male name, after using a neutralized name for the Potter series, and how her willingness to deceive people about her own gender may bleed into her opinions on transgender people, but I’ll leave that to others.

The parallel that bothered me when I read it and that keeps coming back to my mind now is a part of the plot of I believe the third Cormoran Strike novel. In the book, Strike and his assistant come across people with body integrity identity disorder (also referred to in text as transable I think) and need to get information and help from them for their case.

Strike despises them. Their existence makes him very angry. He’s amputated himself, the result of a war injury IIRC, and people who, in his mind, are faking it (they’re not, it’s far more complex than that), enrage him.

The gut reaction is I think understandable in the narrative, so it’s up to the author to do something with it. For one thing, she chose to include this plot element, and it’s not something that can be brushed off as just plot convenient. It received a fair bit of emphasis in the story.

The disturbing part? Nobody really corrects him, and neither do circumstances. His assistant is way more chill but although they discuss it, she just shrugs off his opinion, agrees to disagree. He’s the one who has lost a limb, she figures his opinion is more valid than hers maybe? I honestly can’t remember the details but basically, the ‘confrontation’ was basically her asking him why he was so angry, him angrily telling her and her accepting it. As the reader, if you go in neutral on the issue, what you’re seeing is the disabled hero rightfully angry at the “fakers” (again, they’re not actually faking) and his non disabled assistant not realizing at first why. The narration even takes pain to point out that one of the characters is using up a handicap spot because she’s using a wheelchair.

I can’t speak to the needs of people with this disorder. I cannot speak to whether or not treatments are reasonable, effective, painful, or helpful. I have no idea but I do know researching it on the internet would not be reliable since I don’t know enough to evaluate the sources I’d find. I tried, and the one thing that seemed to be fairly safe to conclude was that it’s quite rare.

So why do I find this plot line disturbing? I cannot unsee the parallel with transgender people. Especially the very noticeable, well emphasized idea that one of the transabled person was using up a handicap spot and shouldn’t have been, and that the hero felt they were basically faking, and the heroine, although she didn’t share his anger, pretty much didn’t dispute this. You’re left with the impression that the overly kind girl is just willing to let them fake if it makes them happy. She’s also in an abusive relationship, making it distressingly easy to see her attitude towards the characters with body integrity identity disorder as just in character for her, as if they were abusing her kindness too.

To my mind, the whole thing was a stand in for transgender people and how Rowling feels about them. Like Robin, she wants to be accommodating because she strives to be kind, but she firmly believes she’s allowing them to play pretend and like Strike, she will not give ground on this - as far as she’s concerned, they’re playing pretend and they should absolutely not be treated like actual men and women.

And as I said above, I have no idea how to feel about transabled people. I haven’t seen enough (this was my first and so far only exposure beyond some googling) to know what their needs are. Strike absolutely seems intolerant, and it made me very uncomfortable because the characters were clearly being earnest and not malicious.

But seeing it as a parallel and stand in for transgender people, it really hammers in the things Rowling has said and it is SUPER disturbing.

#tw transphobia #Rowling #Robert Galbraith #Cormoran Strike #tw #body integrity identity disorder

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bedazzfangirl · 4 years ago

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GOOGLE DOCUMENT: HATE FOR GRUVIA & JUVIA

Warning: Long Read.

OKAY. So, there's this document going around on twitter talking about why the writer hates Gruvia & Juvia. A glean of that document shows that the main reason for his/her hate is stalking. In fact, at the end of the document, the writer admits that he/she has been a victim of stalking twice.

First, please do know that I am sincere in saying this: I finally understand where your hate is coming from. I don't share in the sentiment but I understand. I will not counter your reasons. I will not debunk your proof or evidence. You won't get any hate, any demeaning words from me. Rather, I hope my sincerity will reach you.

Second, I have always thought of how important mental health is for everyone. Especially, now, that for some reason, in the age of internet and social media, most people have become victim to mental illness. The worst thing about it is this: unlike physical pain, mental pain is even harder to detect & sometimes, detection becomes too late. On that note, to the writer of the document, if you haven't gone to a professional yet, I sincerely encourage that you see one.

My brother works for a pharmaceutical company who sells prescription medicine to mental health patients/clients. The job entails not only mastering the field of marketing but, in order to be an effective marketer, they must learn more about their products and the illness it ought to help. Hence, we must first agree on one point: Mental Illness is a real illness and a genuine concern. It's not just about fighting spirit or courage or merely a 'just deal with it' problem. Mental illness is caused by some irregularities in the chemicals inside our brains, inside our bodies. It is real. And just like the current Corona Virus, it takes away lives.

So, how did we go from the Gruvia Hate to mental health? Simple. I think we can all agree that stalking is a manifestation of a mental problem. I cannot go deep into a discussion of it because I am not a professional and in no way an authority to speak on the matter. But it is a problem.

In the case of Gruvia, the writer find the ship distasteful because Juvia stalked Gray and made him uncomfortable for a number of times and that Juvia's development, if there was any, cannot change the fact that she was once a stalker. For the writer then, Gruvia sends a bad message.

So, how can we, the Gruvia supporters, even promote this kind of relationship, which in your opinion is toxic and manipulative? It's because we see it differently. Gruvia and Juvia has a different effect on us and we sympathize on a different aspect to them. What do I mean by this? We view the world differently because of our own experiences in life. What we've been through. What we saw. I'd like to expound on this but we are going off topic.

Before you accuse me of not knowing how you feel or what you are going through then let me share this with you.

I have this workmate (let's call him Mr. S) who I don't talk to at all but I do greet them politely when we pass each other by the hallways. In the office, there are already rumors about this guy's tendency to stalk. In fact, someone has already reported this person because he graduated from just stalking into approaching. Imagine, you were strolling leisurely in a mall then someone calls your name, you look behind and there's no one there. Then, that person texts you and say that he sees you in that mall? Geeeerl. That is exactly what happened to a lady workmate (Ms. V). & the person who was calling her name and texting her excessively? It was Mr. S. It happened because Mr. S thought that Ms. V liked him. What?

Let's get closer to home. I was new at my job and I didn't know about Mr. S's issues. I was a friendly idiot. Bad move. Lol. So, of course I greet everyone in the office. No one warned me. But somehow, Mr. S starts approaching me when there was no one around either the hallways or canteen or wherever. So, that's no biggie right? Then, he starts saying how he saw me at my university (I took up law while working) on a Saturday (Univeristies in my country don't usually cater to weekend classes). He had no business to be in the university (Mr. S is already a lawyer) so how come he knew I go there and have classes on weekends? Weird, right? That did not creep me out but I started putting distance between us. There was even one time he offered to take me home or to school but I said no because I was already aware of his reputation (& mainly because I didn't want him to know where I live nor my routine). There's just too many instances to mention but main point is that yes, I do have an idea of how scary it is to feel unsafe and uncomfortable around someone.

So, back to my main topic. Why am I suggesting you go see a professional?

I WAS THE ONE BEING STALKED AND NOW I AM THE PROBLEM?

Nope. That's not what I am saying. Your stalker (like our Mr. S.) has the problem. Not you. Not the victim. It's the stalker who manifests his mental illness through stalking. It's not you. You are not the problem. You are not at fault. You are the victim.

Unfortunately, as mentioned by the writer at the end of his/her document, stalking has a lasting effect on not only the doer but also his/her victim. It's not right. I absolutely agree with you on that. It's not right that you were the victim but you are forced to endure the negative effects of his problem on you. But consider it like this, when a person assaults another, doesn't the victim of the assault, let's say stabbing, get him/herself treated too?

In that sense, physical and mental illnesses are the same in that they both can be treated and, if too late, equally fatal.

IF YOU CLAIM YOU'VE BEEN STALKED THEN HOW COME YOU SUPPORT AND EVEN PROMOTE GRUVIA?

There is a difference between my case of stalking and of the writer's, to wit: 1) gravity; 2) degree; and 3) frequency of the offense.

I did not share my story to compare it with yours but to show you that I know and understand your situation. I will not claim that I have better understanding of it because you have the first hand experience of what you went and are still going through. But like I said earlier, we view Gruvia differently.

WHY DO I HAVE TO SEE A PROFESSIONAL?

For peace of mind. Life is tough. We all know that. And peace of mind is a commodity easy to have but hard to possess. Do you get me? We all know what we need to do to get some peace of mind but it's always easier said than done. However, issues like these have the tendency to snowball when left unchecked. And sometimes, it becomes too late.

WHY SHOULD I LISTEN TO YOU?

Honestly, you don't have to. But I did spend my time composing this long ass blog discussing a possible root of the hatred, which to others seems to be unreasonable. Because I care.

There are Fairy Tail ships that I also dislike, and some I really hate, and I was in the verge to become a toxic person until I muted, blocked and just ignored their existence. I swear, my life became less toxic! So, if you hate Gruvia then just ignore its existence. If you can't then...

If there are circumstances that prevent you from seeking professional help, then, I'm at loss for anymore suggestion. Maybe, try to get an assessment first? As far as I am aware, the doctors will first assess if you only need psychotherapy or, in severe cases, medicine. In case of the former, self reflection might help. I can't claim I'm religious but in my time of depression, I found solace in prayer. But in the latter, I don't know what else to tell you.

#gruvia #gray x juvia #juvia lockser

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tokyoghoose · 5 years ago

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forgive these bastards ➤ prologue

summary ➣ when detective akaashi comes across a rather complicated case, he is faced with many challenges along the way. In his attempt to solve the murder of a young woman and a string crimes, he must work beside the reader to learn more about the victim. ( detective au )

theme song ➢ im not a good person - pat the bunny, sleep is for the weak - the dreadnoughts, the quittin kind - eleisha eagle, how do you sleep - himalayas, blow my brains out - tikkle me, when i was done dying - dan deacon, stalkers tango - autoheart, youre nobody until somebody wants you dead - saint motel, kitchen fork - john conte, distant past - everything everything, cough cough - everything everything

warnings ➢ mentions of murder and death, description of blood and gore.

announcements!

here it is! the prologue of ftb! :) I'm super excited to start this series! this is a little shorter than i wanted it to be, but I'm still pretty happy with it.

feedback is appreciated and welcome! requests are open!

—————

"Keiji, it's getting dark. Why not come inside for the night?"

The sun was just over the horizon, the moon coming up to replace it. It's bright—the orange and pink colors. The image is burned into young Akaashi's memory when he looks over. He waves at his mother with a nod before passing the volleyball back to his friends and running over. The scrapes on his palm sting and the bruises on his legs hurt a little, but he doesn't mind the sensation. It feels like freedom—even if he doesn't really understand the full meaning of the moon. This is what he imagines it feels like.

Games to be played with friends and laughter. If this is what life holds then he is more than willing to live it. His naivety holds firm when he grabs his mother hand at the door, being pulled into a brisk hug. She laughs and pats his hair and he thinks it's the kindest gesture in the world. He snuggles closer before pulling away to see dinner on the table. His mother locks up, looking quietly into the city with concerned eyes. She wasn't going to let anyone hurt him, the smile that she cherishes wasn't going to fade as long as she could help it. She turns with a smile, passing him a plastic fork before listening to the adventures Akaashi had gone on that day.

Childhood seems so far now.

———

If you were to tell Akaashi's five year old self that seventeen years later everything he thought about freedom and life was a lie and he would become a detective who took away other's freedom, he'd probably laugh and then cry and cry some more. If you were to tell him that his mother would die so he'd have to be raised by his aunt at the age of thirteen, he'd probably punch you in face in attempt to break your nose—and if you then told him that's the reason he became a detective and went through five grueling years of internships and having to learn how to stomach crime scenes in the first place, he'd make sure to add a swift kick to the shin with it. Even at twenty, if someone—anyone—would have told him that he'd never get sleep again because of the things he'd see day to day, eventually becoming desensitized, but still having nightmares that kept him up all hours of the night—well, he'd probably just brush it off because he thought he'd be different.

News flash: he's not different.

In attempt to rub sleep from his eyes (ironic considering he got maybe an hour), Akaashi yawns, triggering a chain reaction from his assistant. The city is bustling with talk of the latest murder—a social media personality. Twitter is blowing up with the hashtags 'rip' and 'always & forever.' Yet, hardly any of the people tweeting and saying things like: 'always in our hearts, never forget,' didn't know her personally. They knew the internet version of her, the side she showed to the world and not the side she was personally. To the world she is known as an idol—a hero to some.

But everyone has their dark secrets.

The car stops along the house's pavement, the driveway a large circle with a statue in the middle. His first thought is someone was in it for the money, maybe a robbery gone wrong. Stepping out the car, he snaps on some gloves and looks around before being handle the case file from an officer on duty, being caught up to speed.

The house is pristine except for the blood that has dried up on the tiled floor. It's a stark contrast from all the white and gold. Minimalist; he notes. Akaashi skims the file before looking at the body and watching it get zipped up into a black bag before being carried away. All that's left is half an outline and some splatter across the floor.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. Just what he needs—more nightmare fuel. But a job is a job no matter how tired he is.

"Alright, let's start at the entrances. Check the windows and doors."

———

Red. Why is there so much red? Whose breathing is that? And why is it so loud?

Your eyes finally focus on the hand outstretched in front of you, widening at the sight. A silent scream escapes past your lips and shakes your body, making you stumble backwards. The shaking hand blocks the view, forcing your eyes away from the scene. The thumping of your heart and blood in your eyes is so deafening that it makes you lightheaded. You felt sick. You were going to vomit, pushing down a gag and covering your mouth.

You look at your hands, willing them to stop shaking in tight fists before looking at the body below you. Blonde hair dyed red from the puddle. A sob wracks through you.

Heaving a heavy breath you weren't aware you were holding and gripping your phone tightly, you dial the police. Your voice shakes when speaking:

"H-help, please. She's dead! "

———

Akaashi rubs at his temple in attempt to soothe an oncoming headache, the dim yellow light at his desk straining his eyes. He looks at the file, nibbling on his lip in irritation. The pictures of the scene and the overall file and personal file just swarms his head with mixed up information and he honestly isn't sure where to start. With a soft sigh he leans back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

The case is gruesome, a red massacre. Victim was stabbed six times in the abdominal, close to gutted even, but the blunt truama to her head shows she was dead before hitting floor. The door hadn't been broken in, the wood and hinges still in place like they hadn't been shaken—perhaps she let them in. The window had been forced open from the inside, the paint that previously sealed it being chipped aggressively against the pane. It could've been some loopy stalker, but the more he looks at the case it's less likely.

His head hurts and he can't focus and it's getting late.

He begins to nipple of his thumb nail, bringing it up to his lips in deep thought. The red strings in his brain trying to connect the dots sooner than it's actually possible. He's smart, but not that smart. His eyes slowly shift to the post-it note beside the biege file, a number scribbled down messily. They had sent you home with an officer to calm down from the shock. It had been about two days now as they waited for the autopsies and inspected, but time was running short and he needed your statement before the case runs cold and slips through his fingers. He'd have to interrogate you, ask you to speak on behalf of your friend. It seems you would know the most about her and her true identity as her emergency contact. Maybe‐ hopefully, you'd help provide answers.

But he hates this part. The part where he has to call traumatized homicide victims and witnesses. He doesn't do well at comforting people, especially when he's the type to cut straight to the point. He doesn't know how to stop someone from crying (because someone always does) and he can never stop himself from saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. He's blunt and yet, he's like a double edged sword. And he knows what they feel because he's been there and he sees it every day, even if he wasn't involved directly. If it haunts him at night, then it must taunt them all day. It's a hard push to get over, and even then the wounds never really heal. Suppose that's why Akaashi keeps pushing to solve cases, even cold ones, because he knows how it feels to be hopeless with a dark mentality. Nothing else matters until the killer is at the mercy of law.

He goes back to gnawing on his abused bottom lip, leaning forward to grab the black office phone before dialing the number. He lets it ring, twice before he hears the line click and a soft, weak 'hello?' He clears his throat, picking up his pen to write down anything he may need. This isn't his first rodeo, afterall.

"Hello, is this l/n y/n? Yes, this is the detective on case. Would you mind coming in to answer a few questions about your friend, Michiko?"

—————

taglist ➣

@izzyphantomgamer @callmeignorance @kenmagi @sawasmura @kagsblueberrymilk

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pandawritespoorly · 5 years ago

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Soap

Author’s Note: Got bored and felt like hurting Marinette (because Kwami knows I've done enough to Adrien recently). So, I searched the internet for an obscure fact about Ladybugs I could hurt her with. Enjoy!

Summary: Ladybug collapses after a fight against a soap akuma.

Marinette nudges the model sleeping on her chaise. “Kitty, I’m sorry to wake you-”

“There’s a ‘kume?” He guesses.

“There ain’t no rest for the wicked, unfortunately.” She smiles at him softly as he sits up from his nap, stretching.

“What’s he got for us today?”

“Soap.”

“Ooh, well that’s new at least.”

Marinette shrugs, heading for the balcony. “Maybe, unless he focuses on the bubble aspect.”

“Is it too much to ask for him to just shake things up a bit?” Adrien groans.

Marinette giggles as she transforms. Ladybug shakes her head at her partner. “Silly kitty, you know that old geezer doesn’t have an ounce of creativity in him. It’s too much effort.”

Chat winks. “Not to play devil’s advocate, but some of the akuma designs are rather creative…”

She shudders. “Ugh, if that’s what you call it, then I don’t think I can associate with you anymore.”

---

He doesn’t focus on the bubble aspect, as it would seem, so there’s that. The fight mostly consists of them getting sprayed with a high pressured hose of soapy water. Poor Ladybug looks exhausted, and given how many times each of them has been slammed into a wall, Chat can’t blame her. She does have less armor after all.

Not that it makes much of a difference. The suits protect them nonetheless, the armor is mostly for show.

He wonders if she changed her suit recently, because something about it seems a little off, though he can’t quite put his finger on it.

That said, she’s always been more susceptible to the cold, and being sprayed with water can’t be helping things, especially with how shaky she seems. Kind of pale, and moving slower.

She’s shivering, poor bug.

Eventually, they swipe the akumatized object and Ladybug breaks it. It could be his imagination, but he’s fairly certain she has a little more trouble with it than she should. Cure or no cure, Chat will definitely be making her take a nap when they get back. She needs a break.

The second the magical beetles finish their clean-up around the city, she turns to him. Before either of them can speak, a light overtakes her. Tikki is forcing a detransformation, no warning beeps at all.

Something is very wrong.

Marinette stumbles over to him, collapsing against him. He catches Tikki, who barely lasted any amount of time in the air before she just gave out.

What’s going on?

“Mari? What’s wrong? What’s happening?” He holds her securely, but shifts the girl so he can see her face. She’s pale, and she can barely keep her eyes open. What he’d assumed was shivering is more along the lines of trembling, her body shaking weakly.

Marinette only frowns, leaning against him. He can feel Plagg in his ring growing anxious. It’s time to get home.

“Hold on Bug, we’re heading back.” He clutches her against his chest and propels himself back toward the bakery.

When he arrives, he wastes no time slipping inside. Plagg detransforms on his own, rushing to Tikki who hasn’t moved from where Chat placed her on Marinette’s chest.

“Plagg, what’s going on?” Adrien can’t keep the tremor from his voice, doing his best to look after Marinette, but unsure what caused this.

The God has wrapped himself around his other half, holding her close. Adrien can tell he’s trying to sense it, so he just turns to his Bug.

Now that she’s laying down, he can see some bruises. While a fight like that would definitely cause damage (worse damage than just some bruises), the cure should have healed it, and her suit should have protected her to begin with.

She groans, rolling around on the bed slightly. Marinette isn’t asleep, but she hasn’t been fully awake since she cast the cure. She’s just in a halfway state between consciousness and unconsciousness. She’s so clearly in pain and it hurts him that he doesn’t know what caused this.

“It’s got to be a tendency,” Plagg guesses, “It’s got that signature feeling of damage around it. It’s not one I recognize though.”

Adrien stares at him. “What do you mean you don’t recognize it?”

Plagg shrugs. “I can’t think of anything that we’ve dealt with before that’s caused this. This is new.” Plagg’s tail lashes out behind him, and he only holds Tikki closer. Adrien didn’t know that Kwami’s could look pale.

If it’s a tendency, there’s not much they can do. Normally they’d have Tikki or Marinette heal something - at least partially - but well…

They’re indisposed.

If it gets bad enough, Wayzz might be able to do something, but not much. He’s more for preventing injuries, and of the Kwamis bound to a miraculous, Tikki is the healer.

---

Adrien doesn’t know when he fell asleep, but he wakes up to Marinette groaning softly in her sleep. She’s curled up into herself slightly, and her face is flushed. He reaches out, putting a hand to her forehead.

She leans into his cool touch, and he frowns at her clear fever.

She hasn’t gotten any better.

“We need to take them to Fu.” Plagg’s acid eyes glow in the dim room. Adrien nods, giving Plagg a moment to situate Tikki on her chosen before transforming. Even with Mari’s parents away, it’s not like he can carry some unconscious girl around the streets of Paris.

Chat Noir tenderly scoops the designer off of her bed, holding her tightly, but mindful of her bruises. Taking off across the rooftops, he takes the quickest route he can to the massage parlor.

He knocks, his tail thrashing anxiously. It isn’t Fu who answers, but rather Wayzz. The Kwami takes in the sight and gestures for them to enter. “I will get Master Fu.”

Chat knows he should thank him, but he can’t find any words at the moment. Something has settled in his gut and he can’t shake the sense of wrongness. This is bad, this is bad, this is bad-

He doesn’t even realize Plagg has detransformed to hold Tikki until the Guardian enters. “Adrien. This is a rather odd time of night for a visit, but I can see why you came. What happened?”

Both Wayzz and Fu seem extra concerned that Tikki is just as bad as Marinette.

“We don’t know. Plagg says it’s a tendency, but it’s a new one.”

“A new tendency? Even for Tikki?” Wayzz parrots. “That’s…”

Fu nods solemnly. “That is indeed concerning.”

“She was fine before the attack. I noticed that she seemed off slightly during the fight, and then afterwards she just fell over onto me. Tikki couldn’t even fly, she just dropped out of the air,” Adrien reports.

Fu’s eyes are closed, though he nods to show he’s listening. The man’s hands hover over the girl on the mat, likely trying to detect what’s wrong.

After a moment, he folds his hands in his laps and looks at Adrien. “If it is a tendency-”

“And it is,” Plagg cuts in.

“-then there’s not much I can do. You are already aware it would be for the best to stay close to her, so I do not need to tell you that. That said, we can heal the more minor things, the bruises mostly, and possibly assist in the fever, but given that we do not even know the root of the issue, I am sorry to say I cannot help much beyond that.”

Adrien nods.

Wayzz pipes in, “If they do not begin to improve after a few days, it would be for the best to return here.”

He nods again as Fu begins the healing ritual. It feels like an eternity, but Adrien can see the bruises fade and Marinette’s face seems a little less colored.

Her big eyes crack open slightly, staring around her, but not truly taking anything in. She babbles incoherently, and Adrien grips her hand.

She mumbles some more, and this time he can recognize the word ‘kitty’. He squeezes her hand, and she at least manages to turn in his general direction.

“I’m right here.”

She hums, her eyes slipping closed again. She’s not quite sleeping, but at least she’s made this very slight progress. He slips his arms underneath her to pick her up once more.

As he heads toward the door, he hears Fu call after him quietly, “Regardless of anything, please do let us know how she’s doing.”

Adrien nods, then whispers, “Claws Out.”

He can tell Marinette is still awake as he goes across the roofs. She’s whimpering at the cool air and squirming slightly.

“My Lady, I know you aren’t doing so great, but please stay still, at least until you’re back in bed.”

She doesn’t respond, but at least the bakery is in sight.

He places her down on the bed, detransforming so Plagg can care for Tikki.

“Okay, Bugaboo, it’s time to rest now, alright?”

She doesn't let go of him, and honestly, he doesn’t want to let go of her either.

---

Marinette squints as she wakes up, the light from her balcony shining in her eyes. She moves her hand to cover her face, grumbling to herself. At her movement, the boy beside her begins to stir.

When did they fall asleep? What happened?

She knows that there’d been an akuma attack, but for whatever reason she can’t remember what happened afterwards very clearly.

Adrien sits up, turning to her. He exhales when he sees her eyes are awake, smiling at her. “How you feelin’?”

“...sore? I guess? Tired?”

“What happened? Do you know when you noticed feeling off?”

She sits as well, frowning in thought.

Tikki pipes up, “The soap. It… weakened the suit.” Marinette nods.

Adrien’s eyes widen. “How? It shouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“I don’t think it was normal soap, it kind of stung,” Marinette adds.

“You could have told me! I don’t want you to suffer in silence.”

She shrugs. “I figured it was just part of his powers. In hindsight, when I really started to feel those impacts against a wall I should have known something was wrong. You were fine? How did the soap not bother you?”

“It’s a new tendency,” Plagg says.

“With the soap?”

“We don’t really know?” Adrien admits. “I probably could have looked something up, but I was kind of panicking…”

Marinette frowns, looking around for her phone. She grabs it, and types into it quickly.

“‘Harsh soapy solutions may injure ladybugs at all life stages, but even gentle, common soap products kill beneficial ladybug larvae as surely as they kill harmful soft-bodied pests’” Marinette reads. “There’s such thing as insecticidal soap apparently… oh gosh it dissolves their cell membranes.”

“So it damaged the suit first.” Tikki realized. “Especially since you aren’t entirely a bug, it just weakened you in general.”

Adrien sighs in relief. He’d been worried it’d be so much worse. He could handle her being a little weaker for a little bit. He hugs her tightly.

She returns the hug, but he can feel her going limp after a little bit. He pulls away to look at her, and she smiles sheepishly. “‘m still tired, and you’re warm…”

“Then I’m going to have to order you to rest.” He teases.

“Wow. The cat wants to take a nap.” She rolls her eyes. “Who could have guessed it?”

“Hush.”

She harrumphs, but doesn’t attempt to escape the hug. She’s asleep again within a minute.

---

Author’s Note: Did you guys know insecticidal soaps were a thing? 'Cause I didn't. I'd assumed they were new enough that the Kwamis wouldn't have run into them before, but apparently they've been in use for 200 years, soooo.... to Kwamis that's barely anything, and it's not like they were out with a holder all the time, right? So like, let's assume they hadn't run into it before.

I just really like hurting Marinette, don't ask me why.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave any thoughts, theories, constructive criticism, or anything really in my ask box, in replies or through reblogs. I love seeing what you think!

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