#oh man we know me thinking about consequences of details like this
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Wait. Since Unicron's blood is a natural purple pigment. And it does mutate things in slightly unnatural ways. Alexandria's genesis might be real in aligned universe-
Perhaps and that would lead to some... interesting ecological effects
#tf aligned#especially since if you know your fandom history A. Genesis is 100% a condition for a self insert to soothe the author#but hey it wouldn't be the first time we see vampires caused by dark energon#oh man we know me thinking about consequences of details like this#I'll need to go brush up my knowledge on e. genesis and maybe bullshit some science brb
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I'm gonna let my crazy show for a second
I need to talk about how fucking beautiful Fort looked this episode and why, because it's not like I just woke up today and noticed how stupidly attractive he is for the first time ever, I already knew that.
This production is making choices that I really, really fucking appreciate. The most immediately noticeable of which is that they didn't whitewash him at ALL which just makes me so indescribably happy. It's all beautiful golden skin all the time and it's fucking amazing.
But it's not just that they didn't whitewash him, look at his cheek. You can see his skin texture. And it's not just a one-off because he and Peat were gonna play in the ocean later in the scene and the makeup people didn't wanna apply makeup just so it could get washed off by the saltwater.
You can see it here too when he and Peat are back inside. You could use the excuse of "oh well he's meant to be freshly showered so it makes sense that he doesn't have a lot of makeup on". And to that I say, when has that ever stopped a production from caking makeup on their "freshly showered" characters? Half the time their hair isn't even wet when they're meant to be drying it.
Beyond being vastly appreciated by me, the fact that we can see skin texture is also an excellent character detail, and it's deliberate. It wouldn't make any sense for a person who spends their whole day outside sweating and getting in the ocean to look perfectly airbrushed all the time.
It makes sense for someone who spends their whole day inside working on their computer to look airbrushed though, which Peat does. Especially in the first episode when he arrives on the island.
But you know what?
You can see Peat's skin texture too. They put more makeup on him than they do Fort but they don't cake it on. I cannot even TELL you how happy that makes me.
But this...this is what I really wanna talk about.
Do you see them?
DO YOU SEE THEM? DO YOU SEE THE BEAUTIFUL NORMAL STRETCH MARKS ON THIS MAN'S SHOULDER AND CHEST? DO YOU KNOW HOW AMAZING IT IS THAT WE CAN SEE THEM, THAT THEY DIDN'T EDIT THEM OUT IN POST OR SLAP MAKEUP ON THEM TO HIDE THEM?
*pauses to get myself together*
Listen I am someone who notices every single little mole, freckle, and birthmark that someone has because I think they're beautiful. It's probably concerning how often I notice them and how happy it makes me when I do. And it really makes me angry that these completely normal parts of someone's skin are seen as imperfections or only desirable when they're a certain size or on a certain part of their body. And you know what else always gets labeled as an imperfection? As something that has to be hidden?
Stretch marks.
Every single human being alive has stretch marks because every single human being alive has skin but for some reason, people are made to feel ashamed of them. They're made to feel like stretch marks are these unsightly things that they only have for x, y, or z reason.
Our skin stretches as we grow! Of course we all have stretch marks! All of us! Even the fittest, most shredded person you can think of has stretch marks! They aren't a consequence of your weight or how much muscle you have, they're part of having a body! They're NORMAL.
Do you understand how big a deal it is that we can see Fort's? That we can see every aspect of his skin, including and especially its actual fucking tone? This man--I just--just--
I WANT TO EAT HIM WITH A SPOON
I love that they didn't make him get shredded for this role I love how beefy he looks I love that he looks like a real person I love that you can see his shirt tan I love his fucking stretch marks I love the mole on his chest and the one on the back of his upper arm and the ones on his face I love love love love love!!!
Alexa, play "Piel Morena" by Thalia
#THIS MAN IS MAKING ME LOSE MY WHOLE MIND AND I'M MAKING IT EVERYONE'S PROBLEM#fort thitipong#love sea#love sea the series
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Hii hii! I hope your doing okay today or tonight, I was wondering if you could write something for dazai (idm if it’s scenario, hc or mix of it and if you add another character you really want to write about).
The request basically is; a reader who finally told Dazai about their past abuser, how they got away with no consequences (who reader mentioned seeing sometimes in the city) and later said abuser goes to the agency on behalf their company to investigate missing items.
Stuff like this is really comforting for me so thank you if you do it :D I hope I put in enough detail for you to work with.
DAZAI AND CONSEQUENCES
A/N: baby, I’m so sorry, but this is long asf and I got a lil carried away💀 I’m also sorry it took a bit to get out. I work in a nursery, so I work 12 hours shifts, and this got to me slam in the middle of my first one (out of three in a row). If this isn’t what you wanted, you can send me in another ask :) But I hope you like it
WARNING(s): reader was in a physically abusive relationship in the past, mentions of PTSD, canon-typical violence, mentions of panic attacks, pissed off dazai, reader is a girl
—I'm gonna assume this is like a pt. 2 of this writing, but it can stand alone, too :)
—We all know Dazai is megamind over here. He sees EVERYTHING. Nothing goes unnoticed by him (which you probably find a little annoying, tbh, but oh, well). It's especially annoying when he knows things about you that you don't necessarily want him to know
—HOWEVER, if it's something that you physically and emotionally feel like you cannot talk about, like it brings you distress and discomfort, he's very unlikely to push you about it. Let's be honest, this man's probably never even told you the name of his parents. You don't even know if Dazai Osamu IS his real name, so he knows he hasn't got room to talk
—I feel like if Dazai noticed something about your mannerisms, or the way you act that very obviously speaks to past trauma, he'd ask you about it, like in my previous writing. If you're unable or unwilling to talk about it, he drops it. He SO desperately wants to know, but he cares for you too much to put you in any sort of emotional distress by pushing it
—When you do decide to open up to him, he's all ears. He knows how hard it is to speak about the shadows of your past, and he honestly is just so flattered that you trust him (he can't believe it, lmao. Like, three people in his life truly trust him) enough to tell him about it
—You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub in Osamu's apartment, absently watching him comb through his wet hair. The two of you had showered together, and you couldn't help but notice over the months of your relationship how much he had changed.
Osamu was flighty at first, and very distrustful. He wasn't a fan of placing himself in vulnerable positions. Not just to you, but to anyone. Yet, when you'd gently brought up his lack of self care, and how it made you sad to see the person you loved think so little of themselves, a change happened.
You helped, of course. At first, you reminded him to brush his teeth when he forgot, and then you began combing his hair. You'd point out when it was time to change his bandages, and call him to bed at an acceptable time because you knew he'd just stay up until the early hours of the morning (if he slept at all). Together, you two had even begun cooking meals, and he'd started to fill out a little bit.
Now, he made sure to do all of those things, even if you didn't remind him/cook with him, because he felt better, yes, but also because he could see how happy it made you.
He was still suffering from chronic depression, of course. You knew you couldn't fix that, and were thinking about gently bringing up a therapist to him, but he had gotten so much better. Even his coworkers noticed it.
Osamu dragged a comb through his brown waves, eyes narrowed as he focused intently on it. It meant so much to you. How could he not focus on it?
You knew it, too. He would've never made these changes for himself, but he had begun to trust that you had his best interest at heart. A few weeks ago, he'd even opened up about some of his own traumas surrounding Mori and the Port Mafia, about his best friend, Oda Sakunosuke.
Osamu trusted you.
That was why it felt so wrong to keep your own past from him, because he was finally starting to open up. You feared if you didn't return the favor, he'd wilt again. More so, you'd recently been catching yourself let parts of the story slip. Subconsciously, you wanted so badly to tell him.
"What are you thinking so hard about?" He asked lightly, brown eyes sparkling with so much affection that it had your breath catching. Osamu was watching you from the mirror.
You blinked, realizing you'd been out of it for a moment, lost in thought. In your lap, you fiddled with your fingers. Part of you wanted to shut down as your heart plummeted at the thought of reliving the worst of it...
But the way he looked at you, like you hung the sun and the stars, like he felt such fondness for you that 'I love you' simply didn't cut it...
It was time to tell him.
"Can... Can we talk?" you asked, surprised by the softness of your voice. It was almost ashamed, but you knew you shouldn't feel shame for what had happened to you.
Only, you were so scared he'd feel ashamed of you.
Osamu was a great aim, and he was smart as a whip, and he was oddly strong for his thin figure. He'd never let himself stay in the sort of situation you did. He'd fight back.
You felt so small.
He turned to look at you, leaning back on the bathroom counter. His eyes were gentle and knowing, and you couldn't tell if you were upset that he already knew what this was about, or relieved. "Of course," he said with a little smile, squatting down in front of you and taking your hands in his. "What about?"
You gulped, knowing there was no turning back now. If you told him this, you'd be trusting him with probably the worst part of your life. Even imagining it, the past with him, made you sick to your stomach.
You knew you'd backtrack if you didn't just rip it off like a bandaid.
"I overreact to things sometimes," you whispered, and he squeezed your hands. "I'm sure you've noticed it."
"I wouldn't use the word 'overreact.'"
You chewed on your lips nervously, staring into his eyes. Thankfully, all you saw there was understanding, but it was still so hard. "My ex beat me. For years... Anytime I did... anything, pretty much. It was bad." Your voice cracked as you continued, tears welling in your eyes. "I couldn't see my family... I ended up in the ER a few times. He broke me, Osamu. He had me convinced I'd never trust another man."
You waited with baited breath for his reaction, trying to hold in the tears. Your eyes stung and your breathing was speeding up into gasps, because you hadn't even told your family or closest friends the full extent of it.
Osamu looked oddly calm, but at the sight of your fallen tears, he got up to sit beside you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he pulled you in close, flush against him, and kissed your temple. "Breathe, baby. It's all right now," he whispered, squeezing you close.
You couldn't stop it now, though. What had been building up since you left your ex was being released right here, right now. There was no turning back. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks and clouded your eyesight. Subconsciously, you grabbed his shirt in a tight grip and squeezed until your hand ached.
"He beat the shit out of me, and nothing ever happened," you continued, the anguish in your voice now laced by anger. "He broke my collarbone... my jaw—my ribs and my wrist. He made me feel like an ant, like I was so small, and I still feel that way now, and even after I left him... I'm still suffering, but he gets to go about his life like it was nothing. I couldn't even go to the police—he said he'd kill me," you got out through gasps, squeezing your eyes closed as your vision had started to darken at the edges, anyways.
Osamu's eyes flashed with something you didn't recognize, but all he knew to do was pull you in tighter. He placed a hand on your head and pulled you into his chest, and you certainly weren't trying to resist.
"It's not fair," you added, knowing how childish you sounded. Nothing was ever fair. Here you were, saying all this to a man who had probably done much worse than just break people's bones, complaining about fairness.
You weren't a child. You knew life wasn't fair, but that didn't mean it didn't fucking suck that it wasn't.
"Sometimes, I still see him, you know... In town, I—" You had to stop, otherwise you'd make it worse for yourself.
He held you close, rubbing your back and gently scratching your scalp as he whispered for you to breathe. Osamu knew you were about to land neck deep into a panic attack.
Eventually, he did get you calmed down. He got you to bed, made you a mug of hot chocolate, and read to you for about thirty minutes before you were able to catch your breath, his smooth voice calming you better than any benzo could.
In the end, you two lied down together, your back pressed to his front. The bandaged arm that was wrapped around your waist felt like a safety blanket. You were sure you'd be embarrassed about your outburst tomorrow, but for right now, you simply soaked up the feeling of him wrapped around you so snugly.
"You're not small," he whispered to you, and that was the last thing you remembered before passing out.
—Dazai doesn't seem different to you afterwards, in that he doesn't act differently towards you. You were worried at first that he'd see you differently, that he'd see you as being as weak as you saw yourself, but it was the furthest thing from. He respects the hell out of people who can go through such terrible things, and yet come out so kind, so good
—While he doesn't seem different, inwardly you can bet he's raging. Dazai is PISSED OFF, more than he's been in years. He's made great progress, but let's not forget that Dazai can be a cruel mf. He's got a darkness in him that he doesn't want you to see, but it is definitely there
—He doesn't press you for anymore details, but he can't help himself. He digs. He uses his brilliance to find out who the guy is, who his name is, and any time he feels even a slight bit of guilt at digging into your past life without your knowledge, he reminds himself of the injuries you listed.
—You thought he'd forget the things you admitted during your confession? PLEASE. He needs to know everything about this fucking piece of work. If he has a photo, he might even text it to Chuuya, along with a message "wanted alive," and you best bet Chuuya takes it seriously (even if he hates Dazai, lmao) because just by LOOKING at the photo of this guy, everyone can tell he's an asshole. And you still see this mf sometimes? Man is RAGING
—Dazai stands on business, because seeing you so torn up about it physically hurts him. It makes his heart ache every time he remembers you in that state. He can't fucking stand it, and he has to do something about it
—Your words about it being unfair haunt him in his nightmares. You're right to a degree: the world isn't fair. However, Dazai knows that if it takes him a million years, he's gonna make this shit fair
—Then, what do you know, one day he's at the office and Atsushi comes strolling in with a Manila folder and the piece of shit, himself. There he is, practically served to Dazai on a silver platter
—"This is Tanaka Jiro," Atsushi chirped, missing the way Dazai's eyes widened when he saw the new client. "He's here on behalf of the engineering company that got broken into last night."
Dazai sat up in his chair, staring right at the man who had the gall to make you feel small and weak. His eyes darkened, and then he slowly smiled. It wasn't happy or gentle, or even playful and teasing.
He smiled like Mori smiled.
In that moment, if his coat was black instead of tan, he'd look the picture of his younger, crueler self. He supposed that part of him never went away, always there just at the edge of his subconscious.
He promised Odasaku that he'd push it away, that he'd do good. However, he felt that even Odasaku, his kind friend, would understand the necessity of it now.
Immediately, he jumped out of his chair and made his way over. His hand landed on Atsushi's hair, giving it a playful ruffle. As he looked at him, his eyes softened. "Maa, Atsushi-kun. You work too hard, you know. I'll take this case for you."
Atsushi stared at him with obvious shock, eyes wide and jaw on the floor, because Dazai never, ever volunteered to work. If anything, he complained about it like a child.
"D-Dazai-san?" he breathed, in disbelief. It looked like he thought someone had killed the real Dazai, and was now acting in his place.
"Ah, ah," Dazai chirped, shoving Atsushi away. "Go do normal teenager things. Flirt, make friends," his voice trailed off as his gaze slid to Tanaka, your ex, and the smirk lifted his lips once more, eyes flashing dangerously, "all of that."
"O-Okay," Atsushi mumbled, still in shock. He recovered quickly, smiling brightly at Tanaka. "Dazai-san is a very good detective, Tanaka-san. You're in good hands!" he promised.
Tanaka smiled back, and seeing the bastard have the audacity to smile had Dazai seething internally.
Maybe, he'd take all his teeth, so that he could never smile again.
"Thank you for your help, Nakajima-kun," Tanaka said, nodding.
As Atsushi walked off, Dazai tilted his head to the side, his plan already formed. "Follow me to answer some questions, and then I'll begin investigating right away."
—For Dazai's plan to pay off, he needs to figure out who broke into the company. It wasn't a planned event, and he quickly figured out the guy who did it probably had no connection to the company (probably just a low down thief looking for some quick cash), which made it more difficult. It was the sort of not-really-a-big-deal crime that the agency would usually put on the back burner (the only reason it even came to them was because the thief was figured to be gifted), but Dazai worked tirelessly at it
—He interviewed people, looked over documents from dusk to dawn, and just generally put in a hell of a lot more effort for this than he usually would for some petty theft
—You probably even notice how hard he's working. There are bags under his eyes and he's back to not taking very good care of himself, but when you ask about it (obviously worried), he just smiles gently, kisses you, and assures you that he'll have this case figured out in no time. He doesn't want you anywhere near this
—When he does find the criminal, their interaction goes something like this:
"I know you did it. Give me the shit you stole, and I'll let you off."
"Bet."
—He has this part meticulously planned out. While your ex is in work one day, Dazai plants the stolen items in his car, and then calls the company security
—He watches with glee as he's dragged from the building, kicking and screaming like an enraged toddler, and fired on the spot. Your ex's livelihood? Gone. Phase one? Completed
—Dazai sat at his desk with a satisfied smile, chin resting in the palm of his hand as he counted down in his head. Everyone else is entrenched in their own workloads, barely even noticing the malicious sparkle in Dazai's eyes.
Soon enough, the door bursted open, and your ex came running in. His eyes were rimmed red, like he'd been crying, and he was flushed all over from rage. "What the fuck did you do?!" he demanded, pointing at Dazai.
"What do you mean?" he asked innocently, standing and walking over with the same smile.
Everyone else stopped what they were doing, watching the scene with widened, or curious eyes. This sort of thing didn't happen much at the ADA.
"You know what the fuck I mean, you piece of shit!" Tanaka screamed in his face, and it only made Dazai's smile widen. When he saw this, he hissed, "I think we should take this outside."
"Hold on," demanded Atsushi, immediately standing from his desk, along with Kyouka and Kenji.
Dazai didn't even look at them, staring into Tanaka's eyes, as he held up his hand to stop them in their tracks. The smile melted off his face, replaced by a cold glare and lips pressed into a line. "I'm fine," he assured them, light tone not at all matching his expression.
"But—Dazai-san," Atsushi mumbled, eyes flickering between Dazai and Tanaka.
"You guys are so dramatic," Ranpo said with a roll of his eyes, absently watching the scene from his desk, which his feet were propped up on. "Dazai-kun said it's fine."
Dazai tilted his head mockingly at Tanaka. "Are we going outside?"
That, they did. Tanaka stomped down the stairs and through the cafe, out onto the crowded streets of Yokohama.
Dazai followed, of course, even as Tanaka led him towards a darkened alleyway, obstructed from the view of the general public. Inwardly, he thought that this guy was making it way too easy. He was an idiot.
Tanaka stared at the dead end wall for a minute, and then let out a cry of rage, turned on his heel, and began running at Dazai with his arm pulled back and his hand clenched into a fist.
Nonplussed, Dazai side stepped it, loving every minute of the surprise on Tanaka's face. "What? Did you think fighting someone your own size would be as easy as beating on a girl?"
That had Tanaka freezing immediately. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he growled out, and Dazai almost laughed at his attempt to be menacing and scary.
Right on time, a black SUV pulled up. He might not be in the mafia anymore, but Dazai had plenty of contacts from it. When masked men jumped out of the vehicle, surrounding Tanaka, Dazai smirked at the look of pure terror on his face.
"Don't play dumb. You aren't handsome enough to pull it off," he said lightly, and then laughed as Tanaka tried to call for help.
He was knocked out before he could.
When he awoke, eyes all bleary and with a searing headache, he was in a big, dark warehouse. It was old and beaten, with leaking pipes and creaky doors. He was sitting in a chair, hands cuffed together behind him.
Tanaka screamed.
Dazai walked in front of him casually, hands tucked into his pockets. "Scream all you like. No one will hear you," he said.
"Why are you doing this?! Who even are you, man?!" Tanaka cried, the tears falling down his cheeks. He looked so pathetic.
Dazai loved every second of it.
He hummed, walking forward until he was right in front of the bastard, footsteps echoing around the wide open space. Grabbing a fist full of Tanaka's hair, Dazai yanked his head back, so he'd be looking up at him, so he could see the icy glare, the hate.
"You hurt someone I'm very fond," Dazai said softly, tilting his head. "You hurt someone I love... And ever since she told me, I've been thinking of ways to make it fair for her. It's all I've thought about.
"She's not like you and me, you know. She's kind. She's sweet. She's good. You," Dazai scoffed, "you're pathetic. A man who has to beat defenseless women to feel good about himself is no man." When he leaned in close, so his lips were inching his ear, Tanaka whimpered. "And me? I'm the worst of the worst."
Now, all Tanaka could do was cry and plead, but Dazai wasn't having any of it. He let go of Tanaka's hair, letting his head fall limply, enjoying the sounds of his uttered prayer. "No god can save you from me," he told him in a pleasant voice, taking a few steps back.
Dazai crossed his arms and hummed thoughtfully, making a show of it. "I thought I could just kill you, but that's not really fair, is it? She has to live with what you did to her, and I think the fairest thing would be if you have to live with what I do to you."
"You're fucking psychotic," Tanaka whispered.
"Ah," Dazai agreed easily. "I've always been more of a proponent of revenge, rather than justice. See, she probably just wishes you'd have gone to jail." His casual tone melted into something deeper and smoother, deadlier. "Whereas I'm more of an eye-for-an-eye kind of guy, so..." He pursed his lips in faux thought, looking up at the ceiling. "What was it she said?"
Tanaka stared at him in horror, especially when Dazai stared him straight in the eye and smiled.
"Right. Broken jaw, collarbone, ribs, and wrist!" He said, snapping as if he'd just remembered it, as if your broken confession hadn't been causing him physical pain this whole time. "I have plenty of history with breaking jaws, so I guess we'll start there. What do you say?" he asked brightly.
Tanaka screamed again, the sound becoming a cry of raw terror as Dazai began walking towards him.
An hour later, Tanaka still sat in his chair, still handcuffed, but he was bloody and bruised. Every injury he inflicted on you, Dazai returned tenfold. He was delirious with pain, and in and out of consciousness.
Dazai grunted when he looked down at his hands, seeing the blood that absolutely coated his knuckles and bandages. He'd have to clean that up before coming home to you.
"You up?" he asked, walking closer.
When Tanaka immediately flinched back, Dazai hummed with satisfaction.
"I won't kill you," he said, as if he was doing Tanaka some great favor. "You're going to go about your pathetic, little life with no job, and every time you look at yourself, you'll remember this pain. You'll finally feel at least a fraction of what she did."
Tanaka just whimpered. It was hard to speak with a shattered jaw.
Dazai smiled at the sound, crouching down in front of him to force Tanaka to look him in the face, in the eyes. "The men who kidnapped you are going to drop you off at a hospital. They'll ask what happened, and you'll be tempted to tell them. So," his tone lowered into a hiss, breaking the somewhat casual facade now that Tanaka had physically felt his anger. There was no point hiding it now. "I'll tell you the same thing you told her at her lowest point, that defenseless girl who didn't stand a chance against a piece of shit like you: tell the cops, and I'll kill you."
Dazai stood, jaw clenched. "And I'll be watching you from now. Step a toe out of line, hurt anyone else, and I'll bring you right back here. Only, that time, I'll probably just go ahead and do the whole world a favor, and shoot you in the head.
"I bet no one would miss you at all, because that's how small you are."
With that, he walked away.
—I know that was pretty brutal, but to be honest, y'all, Dazai was a whole ass executive in the PM (the 'demon prodigy'). He tries to hold it back in the ADA (per his promise to Oda and his care for the others), but let's not kid ourselves. The guy does have the capacity to do some really evil shit, and I think if he'd do it for anyone, it'd be you
—It just pisses him off so much to feel helpless, especially when it comes to you. He couldn't save you, then, but he can damn well set the record straight. In his head, he had to do something. At the very least, he had to stop this guy from doing it again
—You were eating dinner with him that night, and hadn't really noticed anything out of the ordinary. Both of you were just sitting at the counter, digging into some instant ramen, and you probably wouldn't have noticed if you didn't pay such close attention to him.
There was a speck of blood on the collar of his coat.
"Hey, what happened?" you asked, concern pinching together your brows. Worried eyes scanned him over, looking for any sign of injury. You found none, though.
"It's not mine," Osamu answered, and then took a bite of his food, looking pointedly away from you.
You pursed your lips, tapping his wrist. "We don't lie to each other, O-sa-mu."
He couldn't help but smile a little at your tone. His eyes finally met your's, and he tapped your wrist back. "It's not a lie. It's-not-mine."
"It's a lie by omission if you don't tell me what happened."
You were terribly confused when his eyes softened, and then he gently pressed his hand to the back of your head, bringing you closer until your foreheads were touching. "What's wrong?" you mumbled.
"I can't tell you everything," he admitted slowly, eyes shut. He looked so peaceful, like he was where he was meant to me. Honestly, when Osamu was all soft like this, it took your breath away.
"Then tell me part of it," you breathed, reaching up to cup your hand around his neck. "Did something happen?"
He stayed quiet for a long time, though you didn't know how long. It was like he was contemplating something serious, and that both confused and worried you.
When he finally did speak, it felt like time froze. Everything froze.
"I made it fair. He won't ever hurt anyone else again. I made sure of it."
The words were a whispered promise, and you automatically knew what he was talking about, of course. He was mysterious, and he had been distrustful at first, and you knew he had once been in the mafia, but he was also the person you trusted the most in the world.
Osamu always went above and beyond for you, and you didn't feel as safe anywhere as you did with him.
You believed him wholeheartedly, and found that this admission was enough. You didn't need to know the details, and probably wouldn't want to.
The relief you felt was enough.
"Thank you, Osamu."
—Look, he's so bby girl with you, but he don't play when it comes to your abusive ex💀
—Just... just honestly don't fuck with the people this guy loves, okay? He's gd diabolical, and he can be so cruel to those that hurt who he cares about, so... Just watch it if you're tryna show out to his girl, okay, lmao
#dazai osamu x reader#osamu dazai x reader#dazai x reader#dazai osamu x you#osamu dazai x you#dazai x you#bungou stray dogs#dazai osamu#makochi’s hc/scenario mix
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Time Of Our Lives || Part 15
Part 15:
A week after Liana started working in a small Architecture Firm in New York, her boss called her in for a meeting. Anxiety took over for a moment. She was sweating in her hands and felt like she was going to faint as she sat there, waiting for the 50-year-old man to tell her that she had probably managed to mess up and now she was fired.
"Oh, Liana Levy, the girl of the hour!" He walked into the office cheerfully, causing her to scratch her nose for a second and mentally curse herself. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble." He probably understood her level of stress. No matter how hard she tried, Liana could never hide what she was thinking. "I don't understand what's going on..." She forced a smile, trying not to stutter.
"We received a construction project and the client specifically requested you. He saw your final project in Oxford and was impressed." The man explained. "Specifically me?" Liana asked. "Yes, it's for building a house, in a suburb near New York. To design from scratch. He must really trust you because he insisted that you manage everything." He seemed enthusiastic. Too enthusiastic to be giving such a new employee such a large responsibility. "Of course, you'll get a percentage of this project, and it's one of the most expensive our company has taken on this year. You should be happy; I'll assemble a team for you." He concluded.
"Can I get some details about who ordered the project?" Liana found the mental strength to ask, while Ronen, her boss, was already buried in paperwork. "His name is Art Donaldson. If you follow tennis, you probably know him; he's a rising star in the sport," he said without looking at her. As Liana returned to her desk, the news spread through the office like wildfire. Everyone wondered how the girl with the least experience got the responsibility for the most expensive contract the company had received this year.
Tashi saw Liana from afar as she threw balls to Art and he chased after them. She hadn't seen the her in over three years, but you could tell from Liana's body language that Tashi wouldn't want to be in Art's shoes at the moment. Her steps were quick and long, and she was flushed. All her movements radiated nerves and anger.
"Can I steal him?" Art turned in complete surprise, completely missing the ball Tashi sent his way. "Hey, Liana." Tashi said to her in an amused tone, "Nice to see you." she added. They never had a special connection, but she knew that if the woman in front of her had managed to wrap Patrick and Art around her little finger for years, there must be something worth not ignoring. Tashi didn't see it tho.
"You too." She said to Tashi in response but didn't look at her; her gaze was fixed on Art, "Now, Donaldson," her jaw clenched, and Tashi saw Art swallow and not even ask her before he climbed to the stands, two steps at a time. "Sure, Art, of course you can leave in the middle of training." Tashi said sarcastically. "Maybe I'll bring you his head on a platter." Liana replied instead of him, causing Tashi to raise her hands in surrender. She didn't want to get involved in whatever this was.
Art decided he could look at her like this for hours. Flushed cheeks, glazed green eyes, quick walk toward the shade. He wanted to hug her for a second. To tell her that everything would be okay. That whatever it was, he would solve it for her. But all that after he looked at her a bit longer, while she was just like this. Almost wild. Almost animalistic. Acting purely on instinct. Not thinking about consequences. Only about the here and now. And in her current here and now, Art was present. And after three years of complete ignorance, he called it a win.
"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?" she asked. Her leg was shaking. He couldn't ignore it. But more than anything, he wanted to chuckle. It didn't suit her. This level of anger. She was so small. So delicate. She looked like she could murder him. Physically lift one of the benches and end him right here and now. "A lot of things... right now I don't really like my haircut, I switched barbers and I feel like he cut off too much hair, what do you think, Li?" he answered, trying not to laugh. He couldn't take the situation seriously.
"You know that was my workplace, right?" she said, and he nodded. "Of course, I know. I was very specific in my requirements." He shrugged. Liana could murder him. She was sure of it. His smile was too smug. If she pushed him, maybe he would fall and roll down all the stairs. He deserved it. "Art. People in the office where I've been working for only a week think I sucked your dick and that's why I got a job that's going to earn me more money than I've made in all the years I've existed." she almost screamed. To Art's credit, he held back really well and didn't say 'technically you did suck my dick and sometimes I still imagine it when I want to cum quickly.'
"Li, you're exaggerating." He rolled his eyes instead. "Am I exaggerating? A week! I've been working there for a week! Suddenly the biggest project comes in, and I'm the one managing it? Have you lost your mind?!" she asked. Well, maybe she did scream. He was wandering if Tashi could hear them. She wouldn't let him off the hook. But he didn't care that much. "I bought land and I need to build a house. That's the truth," he said with feigned defeat. "All the construction and planning companies are out of business?" she replied. Her hands were folded under her chest and Art was a man who respected himself and her, so he didn't stare. He only glanced at her chest occasionally.
"I don't know anyone who talks about buildings like you talk about buildings." He shrugged again. As if it were a logical answer. As if Liana were the only architect in the world. "I have no experience, Art. All my experience is completely theoretical." She said in defeat. And Art knew he had officially won. "Liana, I trust you. Besides, think about how exciting this is. Your first project, and you have completely free rein. I trust your taste 100 percent." He stated, not taking his eyes off her. He didn't trust her taste 100 percent; she was in a relationship with Patrick. But he trusted her taste, her abilities, and her passion. She talked about buildings like he talked about tennis. He had a way to give her a good start, not even she could stop him from doing that.
"What do you mean by free rein?" she asked. "Whatever you want to do with this land, do it. Without thinking about the budget. I won some big tournaments this year. It's all good." He shrugged again. As if it were no big deal, but he continued to scrutinize her. He wanted to see that she was proud of his achievements.
"I need to talk to Patrick." She stated, causing Art to raise an eyebrow. "Why?" "Because he's my boyfriend, Art. And this might not sit well with him." She concluded, turning her back to him and walking away. Once again, Art had always been a respectful man, but the sight of her ass walking away in anger was an image he planned to keep in his head for the near future.
"What was that?" Tashi asked, half amused and half curious. "Liana." Art replied, not wanting to elaborate. "I didn't ask who it was, I asked what it was." She clarified, rolling her eyes as she walked to the other side of the net and picked up her racket, seeing Art mimic the action. "That was a point for Art." He answered, more to himself. Tashi hadn't seen Art play like he did in that practice since they were at Stanford.
"Of course not, Liana." Patrick looked horrified. "What do you mean 'of course not'?" she responded. "You are not going to build Art Donaldson's house." He sat down on the torn couch that one of his friends had given them as a gift, shifting his gaze from her to the TV that was on the floor. "I don't have a choice, you know that, right Patrick?" she asked the obvious.
He laughed. The smug bastard laughed. "Of course you have a choice. You just want to work closely with Art. Stand next to him and have him sweat near you while he whispers things about the house in your ear, Liana. Do you masturbate to that when I'm not here?" he responded. "You're an idiot. You really, really are an idiot and need some medical help. You know that? It's clinical in my opinion." she said, completely exhausted from the day's twists and turns. She stood with her back to him and her face to the fan.
"Do you understand the concept of work, Patrick? Do you know what 'boss' means? Do you know what it means when someone else decides your schedule? Do you understand discipline? Because for us to have money for a freaking couch that doesn't smell like piss, one of us needs to work." she said, turning her head towards him.
He looked at her with disgust. No less, no more, disgust. "So, you've decided to be Art Donaldson's whore?" he asked with feigned calm, as if it were a logical question. She turned fully and approached him, crouching in front of him and looking directly into his eyes. "You have 5 seconds to apologize before this becomes the last time you see me in your life." Her gaze was darker. Almost aggressive. Uncharacteristic. He really pushed her to the edge and back in seconds.
"Liana, you must see—" he started, looking aside, unable to contain such level of rage directed at him. "First, apologize for what you said, then speak." She stood up and moved away from him but didn't break eye contact. Expecting him to look at her again. "I'm sorry, of course I don't think you're Art's whore, come on, Liana." He looked at her, trying to minimize what he had said.
She rolled her eyes in response and went back to standing in front of the fan. "You must see what he's doing." He continued from before. "He's building a house you're imagining, Liana. You're building a house you love. Who do you think he wants to live there? Do you really think he's building your dream house for himself? Do you really think Art Donaldson thinks you're that talented?" he almost scoffed at the end.
Patrick didn't believe she could be that naive. Something in him knew no one could be that naive. He was sure part of Liana wanted Art's closeness just as much as he knew Art wanted hers. "You don't think I'm that talented?" she asked, turning her head to him but not her whole body. He hated the fact that recently, even when they were fighting, not all her attention was on him. The fight didn't consume her entirely like it did to him. Right now, she was more concerned with being hot than being angry at him.
"Of course I think you're talented, Liana," he sighed. Not understanding how he ended up in this corner. "Good, because I am really fucking talented. Why are you on the couch by the way? Don't you have a tournament in two days?" she suddenly asked. "I'm resting." "No, you're giving up on yourself. Again." She rolled her eyes.
Liana saw Art training for the same tournament today. They had been in New York for over a month, and Patrick had been to the tennis court four times; Liana knew because she counted. "I'm going to build him the fucking house, Patrick, it's my job, and I want to have money to buy a TV stand. If you don't like it, you're welcome to find yourself a simple, ordinary job of simple, ordinary people that will earn an amount of money that won't make me hesitate whether to buy oat milk or regular milk but then suffer from a stomachache because I want a cup of coffee but I'm lactose intolerant." she took a breath for a moment, "And if you ever call me someone's whore again, because of your stupid insecurity, I will personally cut off your dick. The only one who has been unfaithful in this relationship is you, so don't project your shit onto me." she concluded the conversation with a door slam.
Some days, Liana thinks she hates him. There are too many of those recently.
"I can't fucking hear you," Liana yelled into the phone as she walked among the people who had come to the tournament in New York. "Can you hear me now?" Melissa asked, but Liana heard her voice breaking up. "Hardly." She sighed. Liana missed London. She came to the almost tragic realization that the only person she knew in America and (mostly) wanted to stay in touch with was Patrick. She never had friends here. There was Rebecca, but they didn't keep in touch. Once, she could call Art her friend, but that time was far behind her. All the friends she made in recent years were left behind, and she had to build herself a new social circle. Until she managed to do that, she called Melissa every other day.
"He has a tournament today, and I just know he'll be eliminated after two matches, so why even bother?" she mumbled into the receiver. "I hope you're not talking about me, Li, because that would hurt my ego." She heard Art's voice behind her, as smug as ever. He knew she wasn't talking about him. He won awards. He was on a different level. He had a fresh campaign with Adidas. He was building a house while she didn't even have a TV stand. Liana wanted to choke him.
"I'm on the phone," she said coldly. "Someone I know?" He still spoke in the same amused tone. "No, Donaldson, you don't know her." She rolled her eyes. "Is that Art? The Art?" Melissa said in response over the phone. "Shut up," Liana shot back, unable to focus on both her and the guy in front of her, who looked as young as he looked in college and probably just as dumb. "Maybe I should know her; every friend of yours is a friend of mine, you know, according to the transitive property and all," he said, trying to grab the phone from her. "The transitive property would imply we're friends, Art, which is far from reality." She rolled her eyes again, and he chuckled as she moved away from him. "Asshole," Liana mumbled, almost forgetting the conversation she was having. "An asshole you wish you could fuck," Melissa declared, laughing. "Anyway, I can barely hear you," Liana responded, hanging up. She received a text a second later, 'Love you, bitch. Fingers crossed for Patrick at the tournament. Don't worry too much; it causes wrinkles.' At least someone still knew how to make her smile.
Art found Patrick smoking on a bench. He took a deep breath as he approached him, wearing the best smile he could muster. "If it isn't Patrick Zweig, the one and only," he said casually. Patrick raised an eyebrow at him. "Donaldson," Patrick said. And Art could see that he was the last person Patrick wanted to see. But it's tennis. It's a tennis tournament in America. What did he think would happen? "What, you didn't come all this way to see me?" Art asked with a laugh. Aware that the last time he asked this, Patrick was still with Tashi, and Art thought he cared that he was with Tashi.
"How are you man?" he sat down next to him. "Are you hitting on my girlfriend?" Patrick didn't like beating around the bush, especially not with Art. He hadn't seen Art in so long, and the unfamiliarity was surreal. "Your girlfriend." Art chuckled. "I'm surprised you two have lasted this long. You have to tell me the secret; the longest relationship I had was a month," he responded.
"Good sex," Patrick replied, looking Art directly in the eyes. Knowing that the fact Patrick had been sleeping with her for so many years definitely bothered him. It sat at the edge of his thoughts constantly. Art chuckled again. "Too bad you told her to come here, Patrick," he said, planning to leave when he realized the conversation wasn't progressing. "Too bad I told my girlfriend to come see me play tennis?" Patrick raised an eyebrow. "You forget that long before she was your girlfriend, she was my lucky charm." He walked away without giving Patrick a chance to respond.
Hey guys :) I really love this part for no particular reason. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I was enjoying writing it. Any predictions? Any thoughts? can't wait to hear from you as always. Tell me if you want to be added to the taglist xx
taglist: @soberbabes @nina357 @lamoursansfin @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss
#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig x reader#the time of our lives#challengers fic#art donaldson#patrick zweig#tashi duncan#challengers
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nepobaby² [pt.2]
elijah hewson x pop singer! reader
description: people hate to see a hot girl killing it, so much so that tmz starts rumours that spread like wildfire.
authors note: heyy this is a random part two to this ! so go enjoy and tell me what you think :))
tmz
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tmz 🚨 Scandal Alert 🚨 TMZ exclusive: Shocking photos reveal yourusername caught in a steamy affair with a Saltburn's heartthrob Barry Keoghan, despite being in a relationship of over 3 years! 😱💔
Stay tuned as we uncover all the juicy details behind this explosive cheating scandal.
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inhalerfan1 omg what a slut! always knew she was no good for Eli
inhalerfan2 she's so fame hungry going after the most popular irish celeb, watch out paul mescal
ynfan1 nooooo girl nooooo
ynfanupdates
liked by ynfan1 and others
ynfanupdates ehhhh guys did you see all this?? yn and eli were spotted together like a week ago what the hell is going on??
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ynfan1 I refuse to believe this is true, she's not like that
inhalerfan2 oh and you know her so well do you? ynfan1 maybe not but I do know tmz have lied in the past! they have no journalistic integrity
ynfan2 she must of really REALLY enjoyed saltburn
inhalerfan1 I will never listen to her again disgusting behaviour
deuxmoi
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deuxmoi just hours after the news broke that his girlfriend of 3 years is cheating on him, elijah hewson is the picture of heartbroken at his show and their interviews :(
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inhalerfan1 omg baby, #ynisoverparty
inhalerfan2 this is crazy, how could she do this to him while they're touring !
ynfan1 we don't even know if the rumours are true!! inhalerfan1 evidence is pretty stacked against your girl
inhalerfan3 can't wait for the single Eli era !!
yourusername just posted on their close friends!
this is hell there was 6 other people at that dinner and we got in separate cars home
replies:
bobbyskeetz yeah didn't think you fucked with barry like that
↳ ...... bobbyskeetz too soon? yeah just a bit man
taylorswift they are ruthless! please call me gorgeous, you're not alone in this xx
trumanblack are you in LA right now?
↳ I am yeah why does that matter rn matthew trumanblack just wanted to make sure I booked the flight to the right place. ↳ matttttt I'm gonna cry (even more)
ynfanupdates
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ynfanupdates THIS IS NOT THE FACE OF A CHEATER. Also look how in love those two are !!! I dont not believe tmz on bit. ALSO people are being so mean to her. LEAVE HER ALONE!!!
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ynfan1 couldn’t said it better myself
ynfan2 people hate to see a hot girl slay.
tmz
liked by 1975fan1 and others
tmz big brother to the rescue ? looks like the Healy siblings are sticking together through thick and thin. our cameras caught the eldest Healy sibling rushing to the states to support his little sister amidst her massive cheating scandal! 👀
looks like getting cancelled runs in the family huh...
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1975fan1 oh he looks pissed
ynfan1 omg the poor girl she looks in bits 💔
inhalerfan1 consequences of her actions ynfan2 WE DONT EVEN KNOW IF ITS TRUE NONE OF THEM HAVE COME OUT AND SAID ANYTHING inhalerfan1 you are clearly unhinged babe xxx
inhalerfan1 great job playing the victim girl, what about eli x
elijahhewson
liked by yourusername and others
elijahhewson stop making shit up to sell you papers. this is the love of my life who was at a group dinner, leave her be.
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bobbyskeetz ready to go to war for my favourite couple
ryanmcmahon_15 me too !
inhalerfan1 holy shit eli's is off private oh my GOD
inhalerfan2 it’s happening! everyone stay calm
trumanblack fair play mate
denisewelch its all so silly, clearly haven't seen how in love you two are !!
taylorswift glad to see her smiling again <3
ynfan1 I KNEW IT my parents could never .
ynfanupdates hope she's okay people were so mean to her..
yourusername
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yourusername please learn to be nicer while I disappear x
comments have been turned off.
ynfanupdates
liked by ynfan1 and others
ynfanupdates it’s officially been a year and a half since we’ve heard anything from or even seen yourusername 🥲 I really respect her taking some time after that crazy barry situation but this is HARD
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ynfan1 noo I’m the same, I do be missing her bops
ynfan2 fr feels like we’ve been put in the worlds longest time out
ynfanupdates especially with that last insta post 😔
yourusername posted to their close friends!
replies:
charli_xcx yessss queen the world is not readyyyy
↳ AHHH thank you C <33
rass75 AOTY pending?
↳ heheh idk ! genre change pending tho …
taylorswift cannot wait to hear what you're working on !
↳ and what if you hopped on a track?
yourusername
liked by elijahhewson and others
yourusername is there anyone out there?
come spend some time with me within the echoes of solitude, there might be some familiar faces x
// this is me trying / the lakes / mad woman / my tears ricochet / mirrorball / slut! (feat. Taylor Swift) / let the light in (feat. Elijah Hewson) / both sides now (feat. Joni Mitchell) / coney island (feat. Matty Healy) //
out in TWO weeks !
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jackantonoff lets fuckin GO
trumanblack so moody, almost emo?
yourusername coming for your gig big bro x
gabriette woooo they are not ready !
charlixcx AHHHH so buzzed (for all the sadness)
ynfan2 ah a sad album?? yourusername im sorry to confirm its not very pop 💔 ynfan2 so heartbroken ! but can't wait to hear it all, welcome back <3
elijahhewson so proud of you beautiful
ynfan1 OMG SHE'S BACK
ynfan2 oh no she looks so sad :(( slut! is gonna break me
ynfanupdates okay queen is back to dominate a new genre !
vogue
liked by yourusername and others
vogue our next edition unveils an exclusive interview with our beloved pop sensation! emerging from a year of solitude, she opens up about her toughest career moment yet and her newfound carefree spirit, crediting the unwavering support of friends, family, and the love of her life! don't miss out on the latest scoop - grab your copy and dive into her inspiring journey!
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yourusername ahhhhh thanks for having me !!!
ynfan1 oh she slayss
ynfan2 bless her, the part where she talks about how nervous she is about not releasing a new pop album broke my heart
ynfan1 fr she doesn't get how much we love her ! yourusername AWH you guys !!!!
inhalerfan1 the love of her life .... her and eli are the cutest
yourusername
liked by trumanblack and others
yourusername HI again ! soooo I felt a tinnie bit bad that I'm abandoning my roots, espically so close to summer sooo....
espresso a certified bop* is out now xxxx
*certification is from my boyfriend so possible bias there ..
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ynfan1 holy shit I LOVE YOU
ynfan2 eli is so in love im OBSESSED
charlixcx so hot omfg
bobbyskeetz man is whipped
yourusername isnt it that sweet?! bobbyskeetz i guess so 🙄 elijahhewson espresso
finished
hehehe this is so dramatic and for WHAt?! but I love and had so much fun making it. ENJOY <33
ALSO requests are open aswell so it me up xx
#inhaler band#elijah hewson imagine#inhaler dublin#elijah hewson fanfic#elijah hewson x reader#elijah hewson#fake instagram#fake insta post
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Preliminary thoughts on 106
I've only read it once so i may have missed a few details so bare with me sexy
Donovan is such a well designed character. A menacing presence every time he's on a panel. I had to hold my phone at a healthy distance to get through this chapter. Beyond his signature bulging eyes, he has such a zombie like appearance to him that just leaves a horrible taste in your mouth
Damian's dynamic with his family is interesting. He's oddly optimistic, determined to have a bond with them despite their distance and coldness. He doesn't seem that interested in Melinda and I will give Endo the benefit of the doubt and say it's because they're already close (ignoring that she wanted him to die)
Demetrius is wonderful as always. Nonchalant king. He had not a concern about anything but his food and his work. Autism wants his number
Melinda was the stand out character. She was oddly quiet and timid in this chapter. Damian had no direct interaction her and she had few lines. Still there was something so unusual about her demeanor. She is normally very cheerful and bright, the only time we saw her this dull(?) was when Damian brought up his dad at the end the bus hijacking arc. At first I thought she was mad but looking at screencaps she seemed sad and uneasy but still a bit irritated.
Love how this chapter expanded on fucking nothing btw. A filler indeed. But a good kind, shows that when he's ready but the man cook.
Anya's absence in the chapter resulted in little to no thought bubbles. This further added to the tense environment. A lot of the tension in the story is subdued by Anya's (and to an extent Twilight's) perception. You're never fully lost or confused. This chapter however, you feel their absence as you're forced to watch these characters silently interact and only rely on what the author is willing to share.
Anya and Donovan have never interacted and his brief interaction with Twilight showed he has an intense amount of self control, hiding his intentions and responses cleverly. I will omit my tangent on the parallels between the two patriarchs for now but it's obvious they're good liars and manipulators. The same way Anya is Twilight's kryptonite (a person who cannot be lied to or manipulated) it's obvious she has the same dynamic with Donovan hence why the two of them have been kept apart for so long
Donovan's final comment about the dinner being worthwhile (man can someone compare the orig japanese version please) is the most captivating line. Two possible interpretations are: a, he genuinely didn't pick up on the terrible vibes in the room (touch of the tism, consequences of the lobotomy, who knows) or b. He did that shit on purpose
I like the second one more. The idea of him coming home and having dinner with his family fully aware of how awful they will feel the entire time is just peak villain shit. Choosing a random week in December to just make everyone miserable is the kind of evil I need.
I think of it as his way of reaffirming his dominance in the family. A cruel reminder of everyone's position in the family. As he sits at the head of the table gazing off coldly at his family while they all desperately avoid his gaze. The scene where he scans the room but his eyes barely move, oh what a wicked man.
Damian seems to still be learning his place in the family. He is again still trying to have a normal family life but he will soon fall in line I suppose much like his brother and learn how to stay quiet and work.
Donovan is clearly aware of his son's adoration of him and is using that to help "train" him. The moment where Damian was talking and he just sighs (vol 6) or his parting comment to slow down (indicating that he had been fully aware of his son the entire time, including his attempts to start a conversation).
tldr i love Donovan Desmond. They'll make me hate you, you ugly decrypted zombie man. 100000+ aura indeed. terrible terrible man
#spy x family#sxf#damian desmond#donovan desmond#melinda desmond#demetrius desmond#anya forger#loid forger#twilight#sxf spoilers#sxf chapter 106#love when villains are just so evil#endo knows how to shut me up man
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I've been pretty positive about Yuu so far, but watching her magical girl story... hmm.
Basically I like everything about Yuu, but man that serial killer bit is the only thing that really sticks out as an overt bad choice. Having Nagisa stand around and watch Yuu kill people is such a weird choice, it feels more like fanfic than actual canon. Like this doesn't feel like something that could happen in Magia Record-- or hell, even in Madoka Magica either.
For example, Sayaka has a scene on a train where some dudes are being sexist assholes and it's left up to the viewer to decide if she kills them or not. It doesn't go: Sayaka killed them and also they were calling out for help the entire time while Madoka watched you know?
That said, this is something I can see in a bunch of the spinoffs (Kazumi, Oriko, Suzune), but I think everyone agrees that the spinoffs are of dubious quality. I love me the spinoffs but they're a hot mess.
I dunno. It's one thing to know that Yuu is a serial killer, it's another thing to have a character watch her go around and kill people and not intervene in any way. Especially in a story that goes out of its way to not do that. Walpy hitting Kamihama is noted to have no causalities at all (which goes a little too far in the other direction imo but it is what it is), Suzune isn't able to kill anyone in Kamihama and is dealt with by kicking her out (and not killing her), the deaths in arc 2 are mostly accidental and have massive consequences, everyone is forgiven in the end-- this isn't a story that really has "watch someone kill people and do nothing" in it's cards, you know?
I actually liked Nagisa's Wish for a lot of things. For example, I like that Nagisa didn't think she could be a magical girl until she saw Yuu, because she assumed that magical girls had to be good people-- aka, Nagisa did not think she was good. But that's not because Nagisa is a bad person. Nagisa is just unloved, and since she's a young kid, she's internalized that to mean that something is wrong with her, not that something is wrong with her mom. It's heartbreaking to see her go from "I can't be a magical girl," to seeing Yuu the murderer, to then going "oh okay if she can be a magical girl then so can I." Like sweet pea, your mother not loving you is not the same as being a killer. You've done nothing wrong. You are not a bad person for having Feelings and Emotions about the neglect you are experiencing.
However the serial killer/organ seller bit just goes too far for me and it kind of overshadows a lot of the better ideas present in Nagisa's Wish. Like how can you focus on the interesting ideas about justice or self worth when there is a serial killer/organ stealer walking around.
I think that the best qualities of Yuu are her design and how creepy she is-- having her actually go all the way and be a serial killer/organ seller actually makes her less creepy in my opinion. Yada yada, less is more, leave it up to the viewer's imagination. If she was just off, if we just knew that something was wrong with her and that people are disappearing but it's not outright stated what she's doing... I dunno. That would make her a lot more scary to me. A lot of fear can be found in apprehension and outright telling all the details will fill in too many gaps.
Like, the things that we all like about Yuu would be her voice direction, her memory issues, the way her Live2D is designed to be slightly off kilter from everyone else, the gap between her attitude and the darkness she engages in, the weird weaponry she uses and how it changes the way she walks/moves-- all of this is effective because it is offputting and different, not because the narrative is telling us "hey she kills people and sells their organs."
Basically I really love Yuu, but I do have some criticisms for her character and I understand why some folks don't like her.
That said, it did lead to this fantastic line from Kyubey so like,
You take some, you lose some.
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Do you believe in any feelings from Sauron for Galadriel? It seems that he is only chasing through the woods because she has rings and not because he wants her back :( I'm sorry to be negative, but this season is a disappointment and there is little hope for episode 8
Hey anon! First of, i completely understand your pov, it's normal that you feel this way since we didn't really get much of Haladriel interactions this season, and it might be extremely dissapointing, especially after everything we got in s1
HOWEVER. I feel a bit different
I might need to put this under the cut cause oh boy, do i have lots to talk about
I really do think Sauron has feelings for Galadriel. And it's not just because i want to believe that, but also because of what the creators are showing us this season?
I made several posts talking about Sauron's and Galadriel's feelings towards each other, and i really do think it's executed the way it is for a reason. And i mean, even Amazon themselves admitted Sauron is obsessed with her (Galadriel, not the rings)
And while i believe that Sauron wants the rings because he's power hungry (totally expected from the evil incarnate), I also believe his vision of the world is not ideal without Galadriel in it. He really meant what he said on that raft: she binds him to the light, and there is no darkess without light and vice versa
throughout the entire season we saw that Galadriel never left Sauron's mind for a second: starting with his creepy interactions with Mirdania, and ending with him creating an illusion where everything connects to Galadriel, and him being completely devoured by this moment of peace and quiet, when he could just dispose of it the second he didn't need it anymore (sounds awful, but pretty much like he did with Mirdania). The dialogues, the visuals. the metaphorims of it all — it screams "i miss the times when we were together, and i want her with me".
I really do believe that Sauron. in his sick and twisted way, is trying to build a kingdom, where he would rule with his Queen — just like he promised her on that raft. And if she refuses again… well, then all of Middle-Earth will pay the consequences for that i'm afraid
Even those little details where Sauron gets annoyed by EVERYONE touching him, speaks a lot to me. He hates being touched by everyone and can't even hide his disgust when that happens. With everyone, but again, not Galadriel. Galadriel is the only being on this earth, for who's touch he practically craves, which was proven multiple times with Mirdania, on whom he basically projected his true desires (creepy af, but Sauron is not exactly... a healthy individual lmao)
Though i really don't think Sauron wants to "posess" Galadriel. He is smart enough to know that you can't "posess" someone like Galadriel — her spirit is simply too strong for that, and he can never fully "have" her, he would need to break her for that to happen, and i don't think he's willing to do that, at least not now — he is too drawn to her light and doesn't want it destoyed
I mean, even if we look at their finale battle
Galadriel is going all in and is determined to destroy him at the cost of her own life. Sauron? He's just defensive. He doesn't want to hurt her (at least in the beginning), although he could do that in a blink. He will probably just try to convince her to talk (as weird as it looks, given the circumstances lmao), but Galadriel will refuse to listen (totally understandable)
Now, going back to the "posessing" point i made, i don't think Sauron wants that. In my opinion, the main factor why Sauron wants Galadriel with him is because she was the first, mind you in eons, one who showed him that he can be loved, and she loved him. she loved him as her friend, Halbrand, and she was the first one to show him what genuine affection is like. Which is also why i think he will use his Halbrand for in the finale: it's not only to convince her, but it's also to sort of tell her "look, that man u met on the raft? I'm still that person, I can be that person if you're with me, because you're my light"
So for me, this season was actually entirely centered around Haladriel — not in the amount of scenes together no, but in the whole... leitmotif of it. idk if that makes sense
#answered#the rings of power#haladriel#saurondriel#rings of power#season finale better feed us good though#and with all the bits and pieces we got so far i actually think this might happen
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Let's be honest with ourselves that Transformers Earthspark has its issues. It isn't uncommon for the series to have a few messy iterations throughout the years. However those at least have something going for them.
Bayverse is a junk pile yet there's a lot of material you can build off on and some pretty interesting concepts. RiD15 is an awful sequel to Prime but does decently well as a standalone although there are much needed changes to be had. Earthspark... Well, it's just there.
I can be lenient with the plot holes and poor pacing as Nickelodeon is notorious for interfering with any show that isn't SpongeBob to the point of cancellation. The issues truly land on the characters themselves. I'm gonna try to simplify it without devolving into a rant like the previous draft.
Edit: Gonna add some further edits as I wrote this in the middle of the night. Plus my simplified version skipped some key details.
Robby. Somehow they made a human character I actually dislike instead of be neutral about. In the official Transformers wiki, he's labeled as a big brother who cares for his siblings but his actions so far say otherwise. Robby literally ran away in the first episode because they moved then decided to try and hide the Terrans from his parents.
Yet he rarely gets enough consequences for his actions. I think we don't just need less Emberstone saves not just because of plot armor but force actual character growth on him. Like a life changing to one of his siblings as consequences for his actions and strained relationship until he gets his head outta his ass.
Edit: Yes, I know Robby is a teenager but that isn't a decent enough excuse for his behavior. Seen the trope about big brothers who do act closed off or at some points rude but they haven't done shit that put their family in serious danger. No, I didn't try to purposely forget the times he was injured badly.
There honestly needs to be less of those and his consequences be adjusted to it affects someone else badly. *
Next issue is lacking confrontation with Optimus choices alongside the obvious misplaced trust in the 13 Primes. Quintus Prime literally emotionally manipulated and scarred Mo through a fake bad ending reality because she doubted herself. No good person would do that, much less an actual ally. Even moreso on a child.
I seen this shit in Trollhunters but at least Jim, the main character, was a teenager. (It still was wrong though.) We also got remember that Liege Maximo and Megatronus/The Fallen are Primes. Yet somehow it is best to trust them.
Don't get me started with some of Optimus' choices when it comes to GHOST. He probably did it to protect his Autobots but what about the Decepticons who are locked away? Why are there so little of his companions with him especially since Bumblebee had fucking went into hiding before the show began.
There needs to be tension between Optimus with his Autobots. Someone is bound to snap and Bumblebee would have the biggest impact. The man clearly isn't okay as he's doing things that even Megatron admits ain't like him.
Mandroid needs to be written differently. He has the making of a sympathetic villain but oh boy. First off it is clear that his depiction is ableist aligned since the reason he doesn't like Cybertronians is because he lost his arm. Major thing to change right there.
Give him a narrative where his interest been genuine but slowly declines as the Autobot/Decepticon war increases the number of destroyed lives. Let him become a victim to this than just 'I lost my arm so death alongside experimentation to all Cybertronians'. Also don't make Mandroid ignore the obvious fact that the Transformers parts he puts into his body is slowly poisoning and instead come up with ways to fight the infection. Kinda like in Ironman 2 where Tony's arc reactor began to do the same thing.
Edit: Mandroid's negative views on Cybertronians are about the war and he's aware of the Energon poisoning. It is just that it is poorly portrayed to the point you rarely see it over his Arachnamechs/his ruined life.
Have the man present various evidence of destruction the war caused by both sides at the Malto children or anonymously spread such info around town to sew discontent with the townsfolk. 'These are the people who you consider heroes. Who you see as family and friends. Or should these tragedies be forgotten?'
Do a Baxter Stockman where you frequently see him try to fix the Energon poisoning than just simple dialogue. Even have testing on organic subjects to see how they react and find ways to counter it. Don't keep these key points as simple dialogue. *
I don't think Karen needs much changes either. 'But her taking over Cybertron doesn't make sense!' It actually does for one reason: hubris. Have you ever seen what happens when you give a control freak power? Their behavior becomes more erratic as they begin to think they deserve more. She is xenophobic in nature so imprisoning Decepticons and ordering around the Autobots is a drug to her.
Karen wants to treat them like slaves so the next step in her mind is Cybertron. Her death is well deserved and well played. Just like Icarus, the bitch flew too close to the sun.
I think the last major issue, other than out of character racist Shockwave, is the Terrans. No offense but they need a bit less screentime so the rest of the cast can shine. We barely see Alex and there's unclarified issues involving Bumblebee with Arcee if he's uncomfortable around her.
I also want their flaws to be at the forefront. Thrash is the only one who gotten such character development from his encounter with Swindle. We need more of that! Like Hashtag's overreliance on the Internet biting her back as she is forced to use real world skills.
Edit: I accidentally put in Terrans when I really meant Twitch. The screentime for everyone needs to be balanced mainly for the Malto family. Alex alongside the three younger Terrans rarely get involved or their characters further build upon. Twitch needs to get benched more.
Also the Dad Number 2 should really be addressed. Wheeljack was clearly uncomfortable when it been brought up. Plus it is way too fast to even consider such ideas unless you plan to have it addressed properly. Like 'Kid. We barely know each other yet somehow I became a father figure in an instant? It's best not to do that until you truly certain "Dad Number 2" doesn't mean harm or feels comfortable with it.' *
Earthspark clearly has potential but these problems need to be handled better. Addong the deleted scenes help add some clarification but canon needs to present it. We are supposed to get a second season so hopefully some of these are addressed.
#sonicasura#maccadam#transformers#transformers series#transformers earthspark#tf#tf series#tf es#tfes#personal idea#rambles#tv shows#slight rant#personal review#fixing canon#canon divergence#character flaws
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It’s late, no grammar check. lol yes, I’m about to vent. Stay with me. This is mainly to the problematic individuals in this fandom and I’m sure they’ll reveal themselves by responding….because well they simply can’t help themselves. Hit dogs will holla.
What i don’t understand is why are people calling Chris names and fussing at him and celebrating when he fails, all due to their displeasure of his involvement in this stunt?
If it’s Pr, Chris is simply doing his fucking job regardless if he likes it or not, he has to sell this shit.
So to those who believe it’s fake, why the outrage?
Do you not realize if this was legit or deeper pr this would be so much worse for him and his fandom?!
Hollywood is a business and Chris is simply doing his job however long he’s supposed to, so instead of bitching and moaning about him online, how about sit back, shut up and wait for this to end.
Some people seriously think they are sane and can’t see their insanity.
If I get a project at work with a racist coworker, I can’t just quit my job or say no. If I go to HR that could fall back on me and that’s just the corporate world, now imagine Hollyweird and their power and their history of hiding things.
In a perfect world, Hollywood wouldn’t abuse their talent and use their personal lives to sell things all to make money for shit. It puts the talent in a horrible predicament where the talent will get ridiculed, their lives uprooted or ruined and not those in charge.
Jeez, when this ends watch Chris fully return to his usual predictable self…..he’s fucking human!!!
If people are legit mad and can’t see that this is a pr situation, or they scream how it is, yet get mad at each new development, simply log the hell off.
You basically confirm that some part of you believe it’s 100% legit or you simply wouldn’t react to things. 🤷♀️
Also make that make sense, you know it’s fake and Pr, yet you complain when the fake Pr is done? 😂
See those in pr know the truth, they are not sitting online messing with fandoms and calling the talent names or predicting when it’ll end.
We simply know it’s fake, Chris is doing his fucking job because if he doesn’t there are consequences and how fucked up is it that most in his fandom are calling him names over a business deal, yeah one part of the business deal equation is problematic, but seriously if you think this is PR, then calm the hell down.
The only way I’d be pissed at him is if I actually believed this shitshow and believed he married a very problematic woman and they were using pr to stay and gain relevancy.
Once this is over, I hope many in this fandom check their own shit before trying to call Chris out on anymore shit.
And to those claiming they don’t care for the man, stop fooling yourself because it’s clear as day you’re beyond OBSESSED!
Who the hell logs into a social media platform every fucking say to rant and bitch about a man and a fandom they claim to loathe, fuck out of here.
I’m so mad people don’t stop to think of the scenario that Chris himself is aware of how fucked up this is, was forced to involve family and friends and the consequences that came with that and how bad it looks and why he can’t figure out how his fandom can call the shit out as fake while still believing and falling for it, complaining when the next orchestrated thing is done and giving that girl more relevance then she deserves.
Make that shit make sense.
Simply IGNORE EVERYTHING! Especially her!
Chris’ actual life has been dragged into this shit and because people don’t know details they insert their own theories and speculation into the mix and get mad at him over THEIR OWN opinions, not facts!
He’s literally showed how depressed he was at one point, people say “oh well he signed the contract and knew the deal”, but how do YOU know that’s true. Do you all not see this man still half assing this and trying to do everything he can to sell this while not having to do certain things.
You all can’t wait for this to end, hell he probably can’t wait for this shit to end as well. People make assumptions that he can get out or it’s not that deep, again do you know that as fact, No. you don’t.
Things aren’t always as they appear.
Open your eyes people. You’re calling out Hollywood shit while still falling for Hollywood shit.
Can’t wait for the end and this man be able to get back to his life. I can’t image the stress he’s been under. People thinking they know more than they do and believing you’re a piece of shit when they don’t understand the entertainment business.
Let me tell you all a secret……reality tv isn’t real. 😆 shit is fake asf. Teleprompters and all. Most know things are scripted, but it’s soooo much more orchestrated than that, yet people are online screaming at each other over bs scenarios. It’s all entertainment and making money for various people. But see those people sign up to do that shit because that’s all they have to offer. Some know it’s fake and still watch it. Wrestling is scripted. The stunts are real, but choreographed. Some singers are in major debt to their labels, yet you’d never know. They have to prance around in public as though everything is fine, knowing each gig is needed to help their financial situation and get more opportunities.
When Hollywood plays that shit with actors and musicians, it makes one regret becoming famous and living their dream, who wants to deal with the bad side of Hollywood. It’s a reason some celebs lose their shit. Not being able to be yourself and having so many judge the littlest things. People be online saying some evil shit and then saying well the celeb won’t see it…..SO that gives you a right to be an evil piece of shit? Some celebs do indeed see that shit and as a human I can’t imagine the negative impact that has on someone.
But back to Chris…..
Fake Fans think they’ve seen his “true colors” not realizing this man hasn’t changed. People have noticed more of his bad habits and shit they chose to bypass in the past due to putting him on some bs pedestal, and believe oh he’s this terrible guy due to this shitshow. WRONG! Still the same sweet annoying soul.
Chris is still, the same meatball you all fell for, Hollywood is unfortunately Hollywood and if people knew that it’s not all glitz and glam maybe they’d show a little grace. Some of these celebs are in debt, stressed the fuck out, etc and presenting themselves as if their lives are peachy keen for business. And no I’m not saying Chris is in debt, that man’s finances is not my business.
To the genuine fans who’ve been disappointed yet have constructively and maturely voiced their displeasure, see this bs for what it is, casually throw shade at it and yet they choose to focus on his projects and ignore the obvious bs, thank you. 💙
I always say watch how people move once the mess they were in is over, then you can truly judge their character.
I’m tired, things will end soon enough. 🫠 then maybe some of you will move on with your lives. Hope my post provides a new perspective to some. Being a celebrity is fucking hard and it’s a hell of a JOB!!! 😮💨
OMG! YOU HAD TIME TO WRITE ALL OF THAT?
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Issues I have with ikevamp
That I’m venting here because they won’t leave my skull
*Content warning, we’re talking about men in the past, they did some bad stuff*
Part 1, historical inaccuracies
I’m I history nut so this really gets to me, since I know the deep details of these peoples lives.
The timeline, ok so the game takes place in 18th France, correct me if I’m wrong but I think it is in the second empire (1852-1870) considered there is a noble class, yet you can clearly see the Eiffel Tower which was completed in 1889, there is no mention of the 1889 exposition, so it must be after the tower had become permanent, by then the 3rd republic was around, if we are in the republic the Count wouldn’t be called that by the npcs at all the parties he goes to, no matter which we’re in, NOBODY mentions Napoleon III at, NOT EVAN HIS UNCLE (WHOSE SOMEHOW BECAME CASS CONSCIOUS!)
How does the time travel work, example, Dazai died in 1948, his plan was seemingly to wait until he’s born in 1909 then kill himself as a baby, but then he decides to use the magic door, what are the consequences of 2 Dazais existing at once or him erasing himself from history, he’s a pretty important literary figure, does someone else replace him or does the space time continuum collapse?? Is the future Vlad sees set in stone or can it be changed, just copy someone else’s time travel bit!!!
So straight up these guys aren’t who they say they are, we’ll go through 1 by 1
Napoleon- doesn’t mention he left the love of his life to marry a girl 20 years his junior (like think how interesting it would be if he’s conflicted about love cuz he had to give it up for political reasons) -that scene where MC talks about all the ‘good’ that he did in Europe, like committing war crimes against the Spanish and Portuguese and Eastern Europeans, being a coloniser, killing the slaves he freed when they asked for more rights, killing thousands of men in a meaningless war (ligit H*tler vibes)
Arthur- goofy irl, literally believed in fairies, had 5 children and married twice but he never mentions any of this, he cheated on his first wife while she was dying of TB, he was a liberal unionist (tldr didn’t like Irish people) he was anti-immigration, might have committed fraud. We’ll get to the other issues I have with him.
Leonardo- fruity as hell, vegetarian
Mozart- they got his character completely wrong, the guy was a complete man child, vain, broke, by the end of his life his career fell off (Beethoven better composer), in love with his cousin 🤢, had a s*at fetish 🤢🤢🤢. The hole Salieri thing didn’t happen.
Vincent- they made him too mentally stable, I’m all for him being meek, but the guy had serious issues that they ignore, he ate paint thinner, was rejected by his both crushes, WHY DOES HE HAVE BOTH EARS, DID IT GROW BACK, THEY SHOULD HAVE LEFT HIM WITH ONLY ONE, also he should be ginger smh. Oh yeah and they never mentioned the s*ecide attempt.
Theo- doesn’t mention his wife, or son, WHO HE NAMED AFTER VINCENT, his wife is the person responsible for Vincent’s work not being completely forgotten, was way nicer irl.
Issac- tbh hotter irl, low key ace, maybe a fruit, kinda mean, the only thing they got right was the major virgin vibes.
Jean- WHY MAN!??!! Even if the didn’t want a lesbian route, they could have gone with any other guy from the 100 years war, Edward black prince, idk WHY GENDER BEND ONE OF THE MOST PROMINENT WOMEN IN HISTORY, I’m fine with the delusional trans dude lie, but they say that he was a guy all along, THEN WHAT WAS THE POINT OF HIM BEING BURNT AT THE STAKE IF HE WASN’T CROSS DRESSING???!!! was he double cross dressing??? This is the worst of them all, give me the girl boss we deserve (revers fate)
Dazai- not depressed enough imo, he was a leftist, again missing wife, their were two su*ecide attempts, guy lived through fire bombing, had a few children that he is fine to erase from existence.
Shakespeare- probably a fruit, again never mentioned his wife and kids, btw the way he talks is annoying, some people don’t think he’s real.
Faust- NOT A REAL PERSON.
Sanson- too young, this guys is 67, really liked the guillotine, just saw execution as his job didn’t really care, had a wife and kids.
Vlad- Ok is he supposed to be Vlad THE impaler? Cuz he’s not evil enough, or is he a Dracula reference, cuz he can’t dance that dance either, why did they call him Vlad if he isn’t a blood thirsty war criminal.
Count- not enough history to work with.
Part 2, problematic moments
So I ha have seen some posts on the low key misogynistic way the MC is written and treated and there are a lot of issues wit white washing history so another trigger warning ⚠️
Misogyny- the MC of this game is not the best, I know she’s a self insert but she has no backbone at all. She lacks agency I’m most of the routes, like the MC getting kidnapped is a troupe in all these games, but Emma can escape on her own, Kate has ⚽️, even Alice had more depth to her, seems the only thing MC can do is cry and wait to be saved, I swear she gets kidnapped once in every route, I think they could have given her more character to work with. Another thing, but Jean being a man is bad, really bad, she’s a feminist icon but they made her a man, it’s sought of saying that women aren’t capable of this so she had to have actually been a man.
Handling of SA, important one here, I’m ok with the flirty guy, but I really hate Arthur, he doesn’t just flirt with her in chapter 1 he assaults her and acts like he did her a service, and she just forgives him!?! I’m fine with a guy that sleeps around, I like Jin and Nokto fine, but the way Arthur talks about women, always calling them Birds (if they were going for English slang it doesn’t work cuz he doesn’t have a cockney accent) or worse Skirts, it’s dehumanising, and shows that to him women are vehicles for sexual pleasure and aren’t on an equal level of understanding. There are smaller parts to, Leo kisses her without consent, the Count hides the truth from her, idk but Theo calling her a ‘hound’ sounds like he’s calling her something else…
Minor points on classism, I’m not expecting the communist manifesto, but all these games aren’t very good at dealing with class deviation. In Vlad’s route, the orphan boy thinks he can impress the rich girl, this is the 19th century, capitalism is on the rise, but there’s no comment about how it’s impossible. The little school Napoleons runs is strange, considering he was in a position where benefited from poor people existing and staying poor, ( side note, he’s teaching them swordsmanship when ww1 is right around the corner, just saying they won’t need it in the military) called MC out as a social climber, these games sought of depict the past through rosé tinted glasses, there’s only passing reference to how fucked people were in the past, Also all the historical inaccuracies above tie to this.
Anyway love to hear some other opinions, (I started playing this game before my transition and have always thought it it was wired, it’s my personal least favourite just cuz I couldn’t really get into any of the guys, my OC ended up as a Carmilla reference so….)
I have seen a post talking about some of the issues before so that’s what got me to write this out, if you disagree or want to add anything I’m all ears 👂
Thanks for reading 💗💖💖💕💓💝💗🥰🥰🥰❤️✨✨✨✨❤️⭐️⭐️⭐️
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Lake Time Loop
A little while ago I had a plan with some other writers to write a fic where Henry gets stuck in a time loop at The Lake and has to hear Alex confess he's in love over and over again, night after night, while he tries to figure out how to get out of the situation. We each wrote a section.
Unfortunately the project fell apart due to one reason or another. The thing is, I'd written my whole section and I really like it! It's very angsty, which is out of the norm for me. So, I thought I'd share it here as a throw-away piece of writing that otherwise wouldn't see the light of day.
Enjoy! (Oh and tw: heavy alcohol consumption, vomiting described in detail, dark/self-harming thoughts from Henry)
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Henry is losing his mind.
He has to be. He can’t actually be stuck in a time loop. He must be in a little padded room somewhere, imagining all this. Repressing his gay urges has finally sent him spare.
If he is imagining, or even worse, if he’s not, there seems to be no consequences here. In that case, why does he have to keep behaving in a manner befitting the crown?
Maybe, Henry thinks, just maybe, if he gets drunk enough today he won’t have to comprehend the look in Alex’s eyes at the lake. He’ll simply get too sloshed to understand or care. It’s as good a plan as any, stuck as he is.
“Woah,” Alex says, as Henry pours a generous measure of brandy into his tea directly after breakfast. He’d sent a PPO off to a local town to buy him some supplies while everyone was still in bed. Buying brandy at seven in the morning; only in the USA. God bless America. “You okay there?”
“I feel like I’m getting a cold,” Henry lies, taking a large gulp of his beverage. It burns going down in exactly the way he was hoping it would. “This is a common home remedy in England.”
Alex raises an eyebrow at him, but Henry holds his gaze until he shrugs. “If you say so.”
Henry surreptitiously keeps up the cups of tea until lunch, switching to the sangria which has been made when the others start drinking with the meal. He has more than a buzz going already and he knows he is on his way to his goal of getting sloppy. He distantly wonders if the loop will re-set without him getting a hangover.
After lunch everyone heads to the lake, a cooler of beers being carried down by Alex and Oscar, and Henry sits on the edge of the short dock with his feet in the water, drinking cold lager with the determination of a man possessed. He doesn’t swim. He can’t really feel his arms and legs very well anymore and he doesn’t want to drown.
A morbid thought tells him that might be an effective end to his means. He drinks some more beer about it.
“Hey baby,” Alex says, swimming up and tugging on Henry’s leg. “You okay?”
“Yes,” Henry manages to slur. “I’m having a great time.”
Alex stares up at him, looking thoughtful and slightly concerned. “Okay,” he says eventually, and swims back to June and Nora. Henry can see them talking quietly, and catches the moment that June flicks a glance at him over her shoulder. He’s obviously worrying them, but he finds it hard to care - both because he’s very drunk and because he’s sure that all of this won’t matter tomorrow.
When the others get tired of swimming they all head back to the house, and Henry, having lost count of the number of drinks he’s had, finds that it is somewhat difficult to walk in a straight line. Almost immediately Alex is under his arm, gripping him around the waist and helping him walk the short distance to the house, where he dumps him in a chair on the porch.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, crouching down with his hands on his knees so he’s at Henry’s eye level.
“Nothing,” Henry manages to mumble.
“Henry, you’re completely hammered,” Alex says, and he sounds upset. “I know that’s not you.”
“No you don’t,” Henry slurs. “You don’t know me …. know me as well as you think.”
Alex’s eyes widen and he looks quite hurt, but it’s momentary and his face softens into sympathy. “I’m getting you some water,” he says, heading inside, and Henry wants to scream. Getting drunk wasn’t supposed to make Alex even more affectionate towards him. Why isn’t this working?
Slowly, on legs that won’t quite work, Henry stands. He still has half a bottle of brandy stashed in the room he’s sharing with Alex. If he can get that and down it, he hopes he’ll simply black out, removing any likelihood that Alex will confess.
When Henry walks into the house it’s clear he’s being talked about again. This time Nora, June and Alex are clustered around Oscar. They all look up as he enters, and concern is written across all their faces. Henry draws himself up to his full height and ignores them, staggering across the room and using furniture to keep himself upright, his sights set firmly on his goal.
Halfway across the room a strong hand clamps around his arm. “Son, where are you going?” Oscar asks, his expression deeply concerned. Alex is hovering just behind him.
“‘m gonna lie down,” Henry manages to lie. Oscar gives him a searching look, but then loosens his hold.
“That might be a good idea,” he says. “But we should get some water in you first.”
“Don’t need it,” Henry says, turning towards the bedrooms again. This time Oscar lets him go, and through his haze Henry hears him telling Alex they’ll keep an eye on him during the afternoon. He makes it to the bedroom and quickly finds the brandy, lying down on the bottom bunk and hiding the bottle next to him under the sheets.
Alex comes in the room with a glass of water. “Will you please drink this?” he asks softly, holding out the glass, and Henry’s heart gives a lurch in his chest. Why is he doing this again? He’s obviously hurting Alex, who he has never wanted to hurt even for a moment. He forces himself to sit up and takes the glass, draining the water without looking at Alex and passing it back.
Then, unable to look at the sad expression on Alex’s face, he turns and curls in on himself, hoping Alex will leave.
It hurts a lot when he does. Henry pulls the brandy out and drinks as much as he can in one breath, sick of the day and Alex’s hurt and this whole fucking loop he is stuck in. He pulls the bottle away from his mouth and pants for a moment, his hand slipping on the bottle and sloshing quite a bit of the brown liquid onto his chest, then finishes off the rest in a second pull.
The warmth of the brandy burns in his chest and Henry feels his stomach begin to roil against all the alcohol in his system, but as the spirit takes effect on him his vision begins to narrow to a point and his thoughts swim and then he feels nothing at all.
“Henry? Son, can you hear me? June, get a bowl. He’s breathing, I cleared his mouth out, he’s going to be okay, Alex. Mierda, why would he do this? Has he been under any sort of stress?”
Henry lets out a soft, involuntary groan. His face is sticky, especially around his mouth, and all he can taste is bile.
“Henry?! Henry, can you hear me?” It’s Alex’s voice, sounding strained and panicked. He feels hands on him, and then there’s some shuffling and they’re removed.
“Mijo, I know you’re worried, but you’re not helping. Just leave him for a moment, will you? Nora, can you -”
Henry hears Alex swearing and Nora cajoling and then there’s the sound of a door closing and their voices become more distant. He wants to stop them, to tell Alex to come back, and that he’s sorry and he knows he fucked up, but he can’t move. He tries to open his eyes but all his eyelids do is flutter. He groans again and feels the sensation of vomit surging up his throat.
Someone, Oscar he supposes, holds his head over the edge of the bed as he expunges the contents of his stomach. He vomits so hard it comes out his nose too, and by the time he finishes he’s letting out cracked sobs and his face is wet with sweat and tears. Oscar’s strong hands push him back onto the mattress and he feels a towel being wiped over his face. Slowly, he manages to squint his eyes open, and he finds Alex’s father on his knees next to the bottom bunk, looking at him with concern written across his features.
“Do you know where you are, Henry?” he asks.
“Lake,” Henry manages hoarsely.
“That’s right. What day is it?”
“S-Saturday?”
“Okay,” Oscar says. He watches Henry for a moment, a frown settling on his face. “I’m not going to ask why you purposely tried to drink yourself into a blackout,” he says in a low voice. “But I can tell you I am not impressed.” He sighs, looking Henry over. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my son is in love with you, and as his father I am now invested in making sure he’s not with someone who is going to make these kinds of selfish, self-destructive decisions.”
Henry shuts his eyes. Oscar keeps talking, but he doesn’t hear him. His plan has failed. He got drunk enough. He made himself sick.
But he still had to hear that Alex loves him.
#red white and royal blue#rwrb#firstprince#rwrb fanfic#fanfic#rwrb fic#writing#absoluteaudacitywrites#fanfiction
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TriMax Vol. 5, Part 1: Vash Time
MY FAVORITE VOLUME LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOOO
This is going to be especially interesting to talk about because from what I’ve read this is the volume where I’ve seen the most variety in interpretations. I’ll go over what I think is happening and why. I’ll be splitting my volume 5 thoughts into two posts, because I have So Fucking Many. This first one is just focused on Vash, the second will cover everything else. Because Vash is my blorbo and I have many thoughts. I am normal about this man and this franchise.
LOST JULY
[ID: A crop of a page from TriMax Volume 5 chapter 3. Vash is unconscious, wearing a straight jacket of some kind and strapped down to a table. His right arm is extended and held in an unknown device, surrounded by syringes and wires. Conrad and Knives are looking down at him. End ID] I’ve seen some disagreement about whether or not this was just Knives taking some kind of measurement, or if it continued into full experimentation on an unconscious Vash. I don’t think it’s clear either way, though I’m inclined to think more was done to Vash than just measuring his gate. We never see Vash use his powers before July, so I’m left to believe Knives did something to him to open his gate or make it so Knives could manipulate it. It could also be that once Knives wanted to know how powerful Vash was first before forcing his powers. There is room for interpretation: Vash could not utilize his powers on his own, didn’t even know his body was capable of something like this before July. It’s likely Knives didn’t either.
It’s not clear to me if Knives wanted Vash to manifest and fire the Angel Arm, or if he only wanted to transform him enough to frighten Vash, remind him that he isn’t human. Across panels the transformation is inconsistent, sometimes the barrel has formed, a panel later we can see Vash’s hand again. It’s not clear to me if this is an error, or if Vash is actively fighting the transformation. I did read another post that suggested Vash fired the Angel Arm in a deliberate attempt to hurt Knives without thinking/knowing about the damage it would do to July. Which. Top tier suffering. Something something impulsive choice made during a highly stressful and emotional moment with devastating long-term consequences leading to hyper-vigilance and self-flagellation.
THE NATURE OF VASH’S POWERS
Outside of the Fifth Moon, this is the first time we get a good look at Vash’s powers. Sure he has faster reflexes, greater intelligence, and (.) than humans, but those are more passive. They’re just part of who he is and how he moves through the world.
The wings though? Oh, boy howdy. They first appear when Hoppered nearly kills him. We see here (and later) his powers rise up when his life in danger. This response appears to be autonomic, entirely outside of conscious control. In fact when we get the reveal of Turbo Trauma Chicken Mode, Vash’s eyes are blank. The lights are on but no one is home.
The next chapters he spends in this state, and it’s unclear how aware he is of his surroundings or what he’s doing. When he tries to manifest and fire the Angel Arm, Elendira stops him by impaling it (and Legato’s weird monster) with a nail. Then Vash’s iris becomes visible again, either because of the pain, or the realization that he’d almost used the Angel Arm again.
Then he grips his transformed arm with his left, and this happens:
THAT’S SOME GOOD FUCKING BODY HORROR
[ID: A page from TriMax volume 5 chapter 6. Vash is kneeling, drawn without any clothing details against a black background. His left arm, flash and blood and not his prosthetic, is gripping his right near his shoulder hard enough to make it bleed. His right arm is a mutated mass of crying eyes, screaming mouths, deformed arms and hands, and long fleshy tendrils. End ID]
Another one of my favorite pages because holy shit that’s gross and terrifying and exactly the kind of shit I’m here for.
I interpret this moment as taking place in Vash’s head/a mindspace shared with Knives. Vash looks naked, but he has his original left arm, no black hair (briefly), and his body is outlined like he’s wearing clothes. That plus the black background and the presence of Knives makes me think this is meant to be how Vash sees himself and his powers. This is what it feels like to be Vash, part of his body has become a grotesque horror beyond his control. It’s repulsive and horrifying.
Quick side note: we also see this effect briefly during the Lost July flashback:
[ID: A crop of a page from TriMax Volume 5 chapter 3. Two vertical panels. In the first we see an unknown surface pierced in two places by fingers with long, broken fingernails. The second panel shows the gaps widened, the surface tattered, revealing a dark mass of screaming mouths and crying eyes. End ID.]
For two panels we see similar masses tearing through something, a representation of his gate opening for the first time? Back then they’re also shown screaming and crying, even as the mass breaks through with long, broken fingernails. It seems to represent now just Vash’s power, but also his own terror and grief. In the present, in Vash’s mind, the mass of his arm is screaming and crying, mirroring Vash. When Knives speaks I get the impression this is a telepathic conversation happening in the present. It reads to me like Knives preying on Vash’s vulnerable state to try to win him to Knives’ cause. Vash confesses he doesn’t know if humanity can be “saved” or if his way of life is correct. (Love a character who expresses doubt about what appeared to be a firm belief!). What he does know is that the people of July, the ones he killed, were kind to him. Above all else that’s the impression he’s left with. They were kind to him, and he killed them.
He’s able to calm his powers, becomes conscious and mobile enough to try to protect Hoppered from Legato-controlled zombie Midvalley, until Elendira decisively ends the fight.
VASH AND THE DEAD
Here’s two moments I want to point out in the final chapter:
[ID: A crop of three panels from TriMax volume 5 chapter 6. In the first we see Vash reaching down with both hands towards Hopper’s limp hand. In the second we see Vash take Hoppered’s hand gently in both of his. In the final we see Vash’s face, with an unclear expression, looking down at his right hand holding Hoppered’s. End ID]
[ID: A crop of three panels from TriMax volume 5 chapter 6. In the first we see in the foreground two silhouettes of cross-shaped gravestones, one with a saxophone hanging on it. Behind them we see Vash bowing with his hands together. Wolfwood is behind him, holding up a small cross. In the second panel it’s a closeup of Wolfwood’s face, he’s wearing sunglasses and holding his cross. His speech bubbles say “Yer bowin’ with yer palms together? Wrong religion, pal. Look, those are crosses.” In the last panel we see Vash’s face, he’s looking to the side with a small smile on his face. His speech bubbles say “I can put more feeling into it this way. Is that so wrong?”. End ID]
We see Vash hold the hand of a dying/dead man, one who just wished him eternal suffering. Then we see that he’s buried both Hoppered and Midvalley, probably with Wolfwood’s help, and given them last rites. How often do we see a protagonist of an action series take the time to put his enemies’ dead to rest? Vash saw both Hoppered and Midvalley as people, even though he didn’t know them, even though they tried to kill him and hurt both innocent people and the ones Vash personally cares for. He took the time he could have spent helping the living to care for the dead.
It bothers me when people reduce Vash’s philosophy down to “no killing” exclusively, because this scene shows it’s about more than that! It’s about even seeing terrible people as human, ones who should be comforted as they die, who deserve burials and late rites. Yes not killing anyone is important, because death is final and robs a person of a future and a chance to change. It’s not the end of the conversation though.
I think this distinction is important, and is related to something I know I’ll want to talk about near the end of the manga.
CONCLUSION
I just. I have a lot of emotions about Vash the Stampede. Someone please get this man some space antidepressants and a hug.
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3.1 K words. It is 3rd part of my Girl!Daniel fic. Part 1 | Part 2
Summary :: During an argument, Daniel said something she shouldn't have said to Max. She had to navigate the consequences of her rash action.
She was seated in the passenger seat of a rental car and couldn't stop herself from jigging her legs along the beats of the rap song. She had been away from a circuit for too long. Excitement was fueling her body. Once again, her system was flooded by adrenaline, making her feel alive.
"Please stop, Daniel. You are making me anxious." The driver said. Well, he was, technically, not a driver. Just a Red Bull crew who picked her up from the airport.
Daniel warped her hands around her jeans-cladded knees. "Ah, sorry. I am just excited. I've been stuck in England for weeks. It's nice to be able to travel again."
"I heard about that," he said. "I think it is a bad idea, really. If I could afford to live in Monaco, I would leave London in a heartbeat. And for you, to do the opposite is-" he made a hand gesture with his right hand while the other holding the steering wheel.
"Nuts, right? It only took me two weeks to realize it was a bad idea." She laughed at her own stupidity.
It was silly of her to think moving would solve her problem. It was a mistake– a big one. Turns out London was too lonely, too cold, and bleak for Daniel's taste. And nothing could help her feel better there.
The only thing she could think about was her old normal. She missed traveling, sunny days, and a friend who would visit her whenever he could. So when Red Bull told her to prepare herself to do some testing during the Fp1, she was overjoyed. She packed her bags and suitcases, shoving her racing gears, which were still inside an unopened cardboard box.
They wanted her to arrive at the media day morning. So she boarded the plane, put her Red Bull polo on once she arrived at the airport, and went straight to the circuit.
When they arrived, the paddock was bustling, full of journalists and crews. They interviewed and took pictures of the drivers like they could get enough of them. Some of them said hello to her. The PR team snapped some pictures of her while she was dragging her suitcase and bags through that overcrowded place.
"Hi, guys!" She waved at the camera. And they waved back.
She unpacked her suitcase in her driver's room. She took out her racing gears and hung them in the small closet. For a moment, she let herself admire her racing suit. Oh, how she loved its color, but she loved it more because it had her name and flag printed on its waist.
And then she went to the garage. She met with her newly found engineer friends, the ones she bugged whenever she felt the need to do something during her weeks-long exile in England. They were already working; paper, pens, and tablets were scattered around the long table. She stood among them, trying to mimic her surroundings.
Heavy technical talk bore her, so Daniel wandered and walked around the garage. She ran her hand on every surface there, just a ghost of touch, not moving things or pushing any buttons. She wanted to burn this experience into her core memory because it might be her last time being inside an F1 garage as a driver, even just as a test driver.
When the engineers had finished their discussion, she approached one of them, who was standing in front of the monitor, reading his notes. She greeted him. She knew that man, Theo. He was a friendly Englishman.
"I didn't know we would use Max's garage. So cool," she said.
He just smiled and showed her his black binders. "Look at this." He explained to her what they would do the next day. "I think it would be great to finally test it out with a real car because the sim test data is immaculate. Thanks to you, we have more than enough data from the sim."
"Yeah. I can't wait." Honestly, Daniel didn't understand half of the things Theo said, but she got the picture. It was okay, she would get a detailed explanation during the briefing anyway.
"I feel like building a rocket ship, not a car."
She understood what he meant. These cars were beasts. Fast and reliable. Some people had already called them rocket ships.
A big hand squeezed her left shoulder lightly. Max was standing beside her. "I heard you were here," he said, a little breathless. Clearly, he was running away from his media duty and sneaked to the garage.
Like everyone in this garage, he was clad from head to toe with their merch. There was something different about him that she could not put a finger on yet. But she noticed his new cologne. It was sweeter than usual, with maybe a little bit of a chocolate undertone in it.
"What's up, Maxy? Do you miss me already?" She offered him her biggest smile.
"Do you miss me?"
"I asked first." There was a hope in her heart that he would say he missed her. She had limited their texting for the last few weeks. It would be impossible for her to move on if they were still texting every single day.
"I do miss your cookies."
"Only my cookies?" she teased. "Too bad, I didn't bring any."
"I need to talk to you about something. Can we move to somewhere more private?" Max said, out of the blue.
Daniel looked at Theo who just gave them a knowing glance. "I need to go back to work." He gathered his papers and put them back inside his binder. "See you later, Daniel. Bye, Max."
"Can we go to your driver's room?" Max said after Theo left. It was an unusual request. They didn't hang out in their driver's rooms.
"Yeah." Curiosity got the best of her sometimes. "What's going on?"
Max led her into the narrow hallway, exiting the garage. "Who is he?"
"Our engineer. A friend. Why?"
"Great. So you still like your mysterious guy?"
"I guess."
"When will you have time to visit Monaco?"
She opened her door and let them in. "Sorry, it's a mess." She pushed her suitcase and bags that were lying around on the floor to the corner of the room. "I can visit you during winter break, maybe before Christmas. Why?"
"Daniil just broke up with his girlfriend. If you want, Kelly and I can arrange dinner for you."
She froze. "Dinner with Daniil?" She turned around and faced Max, who had a blank look on his face. "Wow! What? Did I- did I miss something?"
"You like him, right? I want you to be happy, Daniel. If he can do that, I will do anything to make it happen."
"Oh my god, I can't believe it! You two are so cruel!" The thought of Max and Kelly discussing her dating life made her blood boil. And for them playing matchmaker, arranging Daniel a date with Kelly’s ex not the least, was unbelievably evil.
"You said you like him!"
"I never said that!" she said, raising her voice. "You made your own conclusion. Just leave it alone, yeah. Why do you have to always bring it up? Every single conversation we have had has always ended with you bringing this topic up." She wished she never opened her mouth and blabbed her feelings to Max. If she knew Max would be obsessed with this, then she would have buried this secret even deeper.
"I just want to help, Daniel."
"But your help only makes things worse."
"Then tell me what I can do!"
"Just let it go, yeah. It would be better for us if you just left it alone."
"No. I know you are miserable. Let me do something. Tell me. Just tell me who it is, Daniel. I promise I will shut up after this."
"It's you, alright," she said.
The room became quiet. Max just stood there, looking directly at her, not blinking. She could hear her heartbeats in her ears. She felt her palms become wet and cold. She wished she could disintegrate and become a pile of dust, gone, blown away by the wind.
She cleared her dry throat, trying to find her voice. "Can we move on, now?"
"What do you mean?" He finally said something after a minute of silence.
"Max, I'm sorry. Please forget it, okay? I don't mean to say that. My feelings will pass, and everything will go back to normal. I don't want to ruin everything. Shit." She opened the door and gently pushed him out of her driver's room. But he was larger and stronger. He didn't even budge.
"I love you too."
"No, you don't." She tried again, pulling on his bare front arm, trying to drag him out of her private room. She just wanted to be alone and hide in her room, God damn. "Don't make fun of me like this."
There was no point in trying to make a grown man move when he didn't want to. So she left him there. She ran back to the garage while doing her breathing exercises to calm herself down. She knew Max was trailing behind her. She could feel his gaze behind her head.
She found Theo's notebook lying on the table, unattended. She opened that binder with her shaking and sweaty hand, pretending to read. She was trying to look busy, so no one talked to her.
"I was not making fun of you," Max said with a hushed voice. He was standing close to her, too close, so no one could hear what he said.
Daniel scanned the garage. She was grateful there was no camera pointed at them. It would be a nightmare if people knew. Sure, Netflix would put their conversation in the documentary if they caught them in a video. "Not now, Max. I need to focus on tomorrow's testing." She took a step away from him.
"Daniel, there you are!" said a crew member from across the garage. She walked closer to them. "I was checking your room to make sure you got everything you needed, and I noticed you didn't have your balaclava. They said that you bring your own gear now."
"Sweet, I might have left them in my bedroom," Daniel said bitterly.
"It's okay, we'll find one."
.....
After she was done with the day, she packed her things from her driver's room and went to the hotel. She took a quick shower and changed her clothes. She was grateful to see that the black silk blouse she brought was not totally crumpled. She put a little makeup on her face- just a hint of color on her tired face. The humid air of the city made her curls difficult to manage, so she straightened them and tied them into a ponytail. She put a bandage on her bleeding thumb and then left the hotel.
She let out a sigh of relief when he got into the taxi the hotel had ordered for her. She asked the driver to take her to the shopping district of the city.
She opened her phone, which had been vibrating every few minutes for the last hour. She received several messages and missed calls from Max. She turned her phone off and kept it in the small sling bag she carried.
Daniel visited several unique shops on the street but didn't buy anything. Occasionally, she met fans who recognized her. They greeted her and some asked for selfies with her. She didn't mind.
She ends up visiting a cafe. She stopped by because she smelled the freshly baked pastry from inside of the cafe. She ordered some pastries and a cup of fancy latte to brighten her mood.
She sat in the corner, far from the big front windows. She didn't want to be disturbed. She wanted to dwell on her thoughts in peace for a bit. She didn't want to touch on what happened a couple of hours earlier. She wanted to put the memory in an imagination box and lock it, but she couldn't. It kept appearing in her consciousness even when she kept pushing it away.
Daniel wanted to blame it on Max. Because he had pushed her into confessing her feelings to him. But, can she? Maybe it was because of the nature of emotion. You can only suppress it for a certain period of time; after that, it will bleed. Like pushing a bubble of air inside water, the bubble would always surface.
It was already said. She couldn’t take it back. The only thing she could do now was navigate the disastrous aftermath. Maybe this was the end of their friendship. Was it a friendship if she had not thought of Max as “only a friend” for years?
She ate the cake and sipped her latte slowly. She savored them until she felt like several hours had passed. She asked the waiter what time it was; it was 8 o'clock. A good time to go back to her hotel. She needed a good night's sleep for tomorrow anyway.
When Daniel returned to her hotel, she found Max pacing in the hallway of her room. He played with his phone while putting one of his hands on his hip. When he saw Daniel, he immediately pocketed his phone and walked towards Daniel's door.
"Where have you been? I've been waiting in front of your door for almost an hour." He cranked his head to talk to her. With her heels on, she was a couple of inches taller than him.
"Jeez, everyone has their own thing going on, Max. Besides, you didn't tell me you would be here, right?"
Max observed Daniel's appearance from head to toe, lingering on her neck, where she put her dainty silver neck chain on. "Dinner?" he said.
"No, thanks. I'm good."
"I mean, did you just come back from dinner?"
"No, I was just walking around. Window shopping. What do you want?"
"Can we talk about earlier?"
"Do we really need to talk about it? Listen, I'm sorry. It was so selfish of me. I shouldn't have said anything."
"Can we talk inside your room? I— I need to explain everything to you."
"I don't think that's a good idea, Max."
"So you want to talk here? Okay," he said nonchalantly with a shrug.
Daniel looked around. There were only them in the hallway, but who could guarantee that no one would eavesdrop on their conversation? She took the key card from her bag, opened the door, and let them in.
"Please, be quick. What do you want to explain?" Daniel put her bag on the nightstand and took off the high heels while sitting on the edge of her bed. She massaged the soles of her feet. They were sore from her long walk.
Max stood there, four feet in front of her. She can still smell the circuit's aroma that clings to his skin and clothes. He took off his cap and ran his right-hand fingers through his hair. "I want you to know that I have been loving you for years."
Dumbfounded, she stared at him. She said nothing because her brain was overwhelmed by his confession.
"You don't believe me, do you?" Max said.
She shook her head. She felt her heart stop beating. She gripped the bedsheets. Trying to remember her grounding exercise. Who would believe him, though? When a guy who was in a long-term relationship with another woman told you that, it sounded like a lie, right?
"I broke up with her right after our conversation in the garage. Daniel, I was with her because I thought you only saw me as a friend."
She still couldn't process what she had just heard.
"Say something, Daniel."
"Ah, yeah– I–" she tried to form a sentence. She cleared her constricting throat and took a deep breath. "Max, that's so wrong."
"I want to be with you."
It took her back to a couple of years earlier. Daniel remembered what had happened to her at that time. Rumors had circulated that she was the reason one of her friends broke up with his girlfriend. It made her head spin, and she tasted a bitter sensation in her tongue.
"We can't! You just broke up like hours ago! I want to retire. I want to enjoy my last months of racing in peace, Max. The last thing I need is to be followed by drama everywhere I go. If people find out—if she tells the media why the two of you broke up—they will hunt me down." She still remembered how every interview she did always discussed that gossip. How they monitored and analyzed Daniel's interactions with her male friends. She wished she would never have to go through that again.
Max took her clammy hands, enveloping them in his bigger ones. His hands were freezing too. Maybe she was not the only one who felt lost, they were in the same sinking boat after all. "We are not celebrities," he said, "nothing will happen."
"Oh, you don't remember. They will find out and paint me as the bad guy. It did happen years ago, even when I had nothing to do with that breakup. I don't want to be put in that situation again."
''I didn't tell her anything about you. I will be okay, Daniel."
"She will know, Max. You broke up after we saw each other for the first time in weeks." Kelly was a smart woman. She surely would put two and two together. And if she were a cunning person, she would make this public to gain more attention, clicks, and followers. She could turn her misery into money.
"If something happens, I will take care of it. I promise. I will tell the PR in the morning." He held her hands tighter. “Give us a chance."
"We can't be together now, at least not yet. We will screw things up if we rush into this. We are not thinking clearly." She pulled her hands from his hold and stood up. There was a need to put some distance between them. This closeness felt too much, suffocating.
"We just found out about each other's feelings this morning. And I think you are downplaying your feelings for her, too. You're not a heartless monster, Max. If you feel nothing, you won't spend years in a relationship with her. Let's wait."
“How long do we have to wait?” He looked at her with his doe, pleading eyes.
“I don’t know.”
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Scatter-brained...
Tumblr, I'm going to hold your hand when I say this... ain't a chance in hell I'm ever going Premium, baby. Please stop begging. It's very unbecoming.
My last day of summer school was last Friday and I feel like I've been running around ever since I clocked out. It's been amazing seeing my family, but now that everybody's back home, I'm happy to finally be able to rest.
There's something so relaxing about watching car detailing videos. Which reminds me, that's one of the first things I need to do once I get a new job. Shonda deserves.
I deep cleaned my room and bathroom and when I tell you I smile each and every time I walk into my room now... I love it. Just finished washing my locs, and now I'm gonna curl em... I'm so glad to have my time back.
I've never related less than to people who say that weed makes them anxious. I wonder how much of that is due to me being an all around pretty chill person, in general. The only side effects I experience are horny, happy, hungry, and sleepy and for that, I'm grateful.
Now that I think of it, if you see that repeated in my gratitude log, mind your business.
A man I went on a first date with last month popped back up in my messages unexpectedly to tell me he was moving back east. I wished him good luck and told him that if he wanted to hang out as friends before his move, I'd be open to it. He said he'd love to and expressed that the reason he didn't want to begin things with me is because he knew it was a possibility that he'd be going back home at some point.
Normally, I'd respect that answer. But the fact that he's telling me now that he knew then that it was a chance he'd be leaving and still decided to talk that big game about a "relationship" is irking me. He's not a bad person. And we had a lot in common interests-wise, so I don't think hanging out as friends will be an issue. On my end, at least... he might as well be a cousin. Any desire I had for ole boy is gone gone.
Something just don't seem right to me about knowing and not sharing that you could be moving back across the country when you were oh so vocal about wanting to be with me and being eager to fuck. Nah, lay it all out for me. Let me make my own decision about that I want to do. Omitting that seems unnecessarily manipulative to me.
I woke up this morning immediately worried about this next election. How if Trump wins, that might be the last presidential election we see for a while. It sounds hyperbolic, but I don't know... with his mistrust of the voter system, I could see him saying we don't need another election and the Supreme Court just gave him all the power to do it and not face legal consequences.
I don't want to end this on that thought... it's bad enough I had to wake up with it.
Still catching up on Love Island and it's about time they stopped playing in JaNa's face. Also Kordell's lap dances had me on the floor! That damn lisp 🤣
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chapter 3: prince
word count: 3k
Sonata in Darkness: [2] ... [4]
“I mean god… he’s such a jerk.”
You had just finished telling Selina about what had happened down in the 44 Below as you sat in the cab. You didn’t even hear what place Selina told the man to drive to, you were so upset and instantly started ranting.
“An absolute asshole,” she said as she rolled her eyes. She started telling you about what had happened on her end of the line, before she gave a sudden gasp. “I just remembered!”
“Jesus, Cat, way to scare the shit outta me. What’s wrong?”
She gave a sly look and smirked. “While you were busy with bat freak getting info from that D.A. guy, I was getting info from some loud-mouth customers.”
You raised a brow, silently asking her to continue.
“Well, let’s just say we’ll be busy tomorrow night… hope you didn’t have any plans,” she said amusingly, before turning her gaze out the window.
You looked at her in silence, expecting her to continue, but she still looked on. You scoffed, “Um, hello? Are ya gonna clue me in on what’s going down?”
She looked at you seriously, before a smirk crept onto her face and her facade broke. Laughing, she filled you in. “Okay, okay. According to some guy working in some narcotic lab, there’s supposed to be a drop going on—a score, if you will. I wrote down the place he was talking about. Anyways, we sneak there and steal whatever money they’re trading right from their noses. Come on,” she winked, “can’t be too hard.”
She gave you an eager look as you thought it over. On one hand, you guys could really use that money—living isn’t cheap. And it isn’t like this would be the hardest thing you’ve done; you’ve done way worse…probably. But on the other hand…the consequences of getting caught are much higher. These guys probably wouldn’t slap cuffs on you and send you to jail, they’d more likely shoot first and ask questions later, unlike that cop paroling the Mayor’s office. But the money…
“Yeah, okay,” you gave in. “Just give me the details-“
Your phone interrupted with a bzzzz.
Looking at your phone, you and Selina could see that it was your boss, Oswald Cobblepot.
Bzzzz.
You stared at the screen, panic filling you. Did he find something out? Are you in trouble? Maybe-
Bzzzz.
“I think you should answer that,” Selina whispered. You hastily accepted the call and put the phone to your ear.
“Heya doll, how’s it going?”
“Oh, it’s going alright. It was a busy night tonight, you know how it gets,” you laughed nervously.
“So me ‘n Mr. Falcone have been talking; he says he’s missed seein’ ya ‘round his place. He’s invited you to accompany him to the Mayor’s funeral tomorrow morning. Ain’t that nice of him?”
You held your breath for a second. Carmine Falcone invited you to go with him? You must have stayed silent for a beat too long, because Oz spoke up.
“Hon?”
“Oh, um, yes! Yes, thank you for the invite. I’m just not sure that-“
“-I think you should go. Wouldn’t want to upset Mr. Falcone, would you?”
“…no. Tell him that I’ll be ready in the morning.”
“Great, great. I’m sure he’ll be pleased. We’ll pick you up, darlin’, don’t worry about it. Have a good night.” He hung up, leaving your eyes to linger on the dark phone screen. Selina’s eyes burned into you as she nearly died of curiosity.
“So,” she finally gave in. “What was that?”
“Oz was asking if I would accompany Falcone to the funeral tomorrow.”
“…you’re joking.”
“I’m not! I tried backing out, but… you know…”
“Nah, I get it.” Selina had a strange look on her face. “Just be back for the score, got it?”
“Of course,” you smiled.
“And hey,” Selina got serious. “Just be safe, yeah? You know Carmine Falcone…”
————————————————————————————————
“You know Carmine Falcone?”
“I work at the mob spot, of course I know him.”
“You didn’t tell me you had a relationship with him.”
“I don’t have a relationship with him. Never did. What’s your problem?”
“Well, that’s not what it looked like.”
“You don’t believe me? You really gonna be an asshole about this?”
“Are you going to tell me the truth? You seeing another one of these mobsters? Some loser nobody—“
“Pretty,” Alfred interrupted Bruce, causing him to hurriedly pause the recording of the night prior. He had been rewinding that last bit of conversation for quite some time now. Alfred continued, “New friend of yours? Although by the way you’re talking, it seems a little more serious.”
Bruce gave him a sharp look before sighing and looking back at the screen. “I’m not so sure.”
“Looks like you upset her.” The recording was paused and zoomed onto your face. Even with your angry expression and tears that threatened to swell, you still looked beautiful. Bruce casted him an annoyed look. “Shall I take this as a good sign?”
“What?”
“Your attire.” Alfred gestured to Bruce, who was dressed rather handsomely. He was wearing a nice black suit and tie. “Is Bruce Wayne making an actual appearance?”
“There’s a public memorial for Mayor Mitchell. Serial killers like to follow reactions to their crime,” Bruce said as if it was the most obvious thing. “Riddler might not be able to resist.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” Alfred jumped as he took a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I took the liberty of doing a little work on this latest cipher—the one from the rat maze.” Bruce turned fully to face him, his back now facing the digital you. He could feel your eyes burning into him. “I’m afraid his Spanish is less than perfect, but I’m fairly certain it translates to ‘You are El Rata Alada.’”
“Rata Alada…” Bruce pondered for a moment before continuing, “‘Rat with wings?’”
“It’s slang for pigeon,” Alfred informed. “Does that mean anything to you?”
“Yeah, a stool pigeon-“
“-Where are your cufflinks?” Alfred interrupted.
“I couldn’t find them.”
“Well, you can’t go out like that,” the older man declared as he started to undo his own links.
“Alfred, I don’t want your cufflinks.”
The man handed Bruce the small piece of jewelry. “You have to keep up appearances. You’re still a Wayne.”
Bruce scoffed, “And what about you? You a Wayne?” Your cyber eyes felt hotter against his back.
“Your father gave them to me…” the man said solemnly. Bruce looked downwards, a little ashamed, but glanced back up to see Alfred giving him a small smile. “And besides, I’m just loaning them to you. I want them back!”
————————————————————————————————
Getting ready in the dingy, broken, and mess of an apartment you called home sucked. There was no time to clean after the break-in and unfortunately, it was hard to look at the place without seeing Anika. You kept your eyes on the floor for the most part.
You picked what you thought was most appropriate for a funeral; it was challenging considering that most of your clothes were for your work. Simple was the key—simple black dress, simple makeup, simple boots. The fall weather was chilly, so you borrowed Selina’s black trench coat to layer over your outfit. A car horn made you jump away from the mirror.
The driver politely opened the door so you could make your way into the vehicle. Your boss was sitting in the passenger seat, smoking a cigarette, while Falcone was sitting beside you.
“Morning darling, you look absolutely gorgeous,” he kissed your hand, “let’s get this shit show over with.”
You smiled, albeit uncomfortable, and stayed silent the whole trip. The men were discussing how much they did not want to go to this event but hey, gotta do what you gotta do, I guess. It didn’t take long to reach the church and with a look from Falcone, Oz got out of the car to deal with the crowd.
“Hold it,” he ordered, voice muffled through the car. “You good, fellas?” The crowd took the hit and backed away. He opened the door with a “We’re good Mr. Falcone” and Falcone stepped out, but not before giving you a wink. He cautiously looked around before offering his hand to you. You took it.
Your black knee-high boots clacked against the wet pavement as you settled yourself into the crook of the man’s arm, making your way into the building. You were about to enter until-
“Hey—hey! Give us a wide berth here, will ya, Slick?” You turned around to see Oz yelling at a man, but he was already looking at you with a strange intensity in his eyes. Wait a minute… was that?
“Watchit, fellas. You got the Prince of the City there. Some event, huh? Brought out the one guy in the city more reclusive than me.”
“Thought you’d never leave the Shoreline,” Bruce Wayne fired immediately. “Aren’t you afraid someone’ll take a shot at you?”
“Why? ‘Cause your father ain’t around? Guys,” Falcone looked back at you and Oz, “you know Bruce Wayne?”
“Wow, is that right?” Oz was not impressed in the slightest, unlike you. Bruce Wayne never makes a public appearance; it’s a rarity. Honestly, if it weren’t for all of Gotham never shutting up about his parents, you would have thought him a myth. You had to admit though, he was a little handsome.
“His father saved my life. I got shot in the chest, right here,” Falcone pointed to the place on yourself, ghosting over your right lower rib. Bruce’s glare darkened. “I couldn’t go to no hospital, so we showed up on his doorstep. Operated right on the dining room table. Kid here, he saw the whole thing from up on the stairs lookin’ down.” Falcone lowered his voice and leaned towards Bruce. “I remember your face. You don’t think that meant something when he did that?
“It meant he took the Hippocratic Oath.”
Falcone looked taken aback before letting a small chuckle escape. “‘Hippocratic Oath.’ That’s good.”
“Excuse me,” Bruce went to pass by as Falcone laughed.
“Hey.” One of Falcone’s bodyguards took him by the shoulder. “I was thinking, ya know, since I have my lovely assistant here,” he clapped you on both of your shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “Baby, you know I hate to share, but be a doll and keep Mr. Recluse some company, will ya? Help him loosen out of his shell a bit, I think he needs it,” Falcone laughed again. You expected Bruce Wayne to reject his offer, but he surprisingly obliged. Politely smiling and offering his elbow to you after sending Falcone one more glare, you took it with a shy smile and followed after him. The camera’s of the paparazzi exploded with light.
Bruce kept you nice and close to him as you both made your way inside. There were mourners all around; some cried, some looked bored, and some had a look of disdain.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer started. “Thank you all for coming to today’s memorial for our beloved mayor, Don Mitchell Jr. Our program will begin shortly. As a reminder…”
“I’m sorry,” Bruce spoke softly after a while of silence. “I can’t figure out how such a gorgeous woman is hanging around a guy like Falcone. I’ve seemed to have forgotten my manners. My name’s Bruce Wayne, what’s yours?” He smiled slightly at you as he introduced himself. He looked slightly eager. You already knew who he was, of course because who didn’t, but it was nice to see him introduce himself. It was… kinda cool.
You bashfully smiled back. “Thank you, Mr. Wayne—“
“Bruce.”
“—Bruce.” Your smile grew as you played along. “My name is—“
“What good is a safety net if it doesn’t catch nobody?” A man interrupted. “Didn’t help my daughter when she needed it, I can tell you that. Guy was just another rich scum sucker. He got what he deserved.” The man looked Bruce in the eyes. “Know what I mean? Hey… don’t I know you?”
“Bruce Wayne,” another voice interrupted. Bruce looked a little annoyed. He pursed his lips and frowned before turning to Bella Reál. “Why haven’t you called me back?” She turned her gaze to you briefly and looked surprised. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you had company. I’m Bella Reál, I’m running for mayor. I wouldn’t be bothering you here, but your people keep telling me you’re ‘unavailable.’ Will you walk with me?” Bruce followed the woman, tucking you into his side even more. Bella paused as she looked at you, but continued as she positioned herself onto the other side of Bruce. He gave you an apologetic look, as if he was trying to say ‘sorry for dragging you into this.’
“You know, you really could be doing more for this city. Your family has a history of philanthropy, but as far as I can tell, you’re not really doing anything.” You rolled your eyes, but she couldn’t see. “If I’m elected, I want to change that.” The three of you found yourselves at the front of the session where the ex-mayor's son could be seen. “I’m gonna go pay my respects. Will you wait for me? I want to continue this,” she said adamantly before approaching the casket.
The only thing not deeply depressing in the place was the music, which was lovely. You were going to make a comment to the man you were standing beside, but he was staring at the little boy. You could only assume what he was thinking, and you had a pretty good guess, so you squeezed his arm to try and bring him back. His eyes snapped to yours before squeezing you back with a small smile.
“‘Scuse me, Chief?” Being nosy, both you and Bruce shared a look before eavesdropping. “Gil Colson is missing.” Your grip on Bruce’s arm tightened.
“What?” The Chief asked. His badge name read ‘Gordon.’
“He hasn’t been heard from since last night—“
“—Christ, not again,”
“—Hey, Mr. Wayne,” a new, friendly cop chimed in with a smile and wave after noticing Bruce staring.
Bruce sighed before turning back to you. “Hopefully no more interruptions,” he whispered to you. “Let’s start over. My name’s Bruce, what’s—“
The world hated you because just as he uttered those words, screaming and the sound of revving engines echoed in the church. People, you included, fearfully looked around. Following Bruce’s gaze upwards, a sinister presence of a lone person looked down at you. You reacted quicker than Bruce—you could see a car driving up the church steps before he could, so you made a beeline to the little boy looking curiously. The boy, however, refused to move. He was transfixed at the vehicle heading towards him. Luckily, Bruce dove for you both and managed to roll and take the brunt of the impact as you all fell away from the car. The boy’s mother quickly gathered her son and hurriedly left as you stared at where the car crashed beside you. You looked down at the man who saved you but his gaze was still at the place the lone figure was—although he was gone now. Bruce’s grip tightened on you as you laid atop of him. Helping you to your feet, he saw the scared look on your face.
Cops rushed in with their weapons drawn and pointed at the vehicle.
“Get out of the car! Get out of the car and show your hands,” Gordon ordered.
The car door slowly opened as the driver raised their hands above their head. The person stumbled out and, oh my god, was that…?
“Christ, it’s Colson.”
It was the D.A.! He was still wearing the same outfit from when you last saw him, but there was a bomb around his neck and an envelope taped to him. One of the other officers yelled about the bomb, which caused the funeral attendees to panic. Bruce tucked your face into his chest and backed away as the phone taped to Colson’s hand went off. He was oddly protective, but you appreciated it for the moment.
“Let’s clear this place out now!”
Police began hurriedly ushering people out of the building for their safety, but Bruce stood still. The envelope was addressed to ‘The Batman’ in handwriting that could only belong to a childs. Dragging Bruce to the exit after not wanting to spend more time next to a bomb, you looked for Falcone and Oz. Bruce also kept an eye out, but after about 5 minutes of looking from out the front steps, you gave up. They must have left after the first sign of trouble.
“Those assholes,” you cursed under your breath. “Can’t believe they left me here. I didn’t even want to be here in the first place.”
“Well I couldn’t have met you if they didn’t make you come,” Bruce spoke up after a while.
You softly laughed, “Yeah, I guess you’re right, although I would hardly call it a meeting. It could’ve been done with less bombs.” You looked helplessly at the road; your boss was your only ride and you didn’t want to pay for a taxi.
“Yeah, less bombs would be nice during a proper meeting, but ideally it would be best over dinner, wouldn’t you agree?” You looked at him with surprise as a taxi stopped next to you. Bruce, a little nervously, continued. “Listen, I’m sorry about all the interruptions from earlier. As you can probably tell, I don’t get out much.” He laughed bitterly and opened the door for you. “I would like to get to know you better under better circumstances, truly.” He took a notepad and pen from his coat pocket and scribbled. “Here,” he passed it to you. “I hope to hear from you.” You looked at the numbers he wrote down as he gave a wad of cash to the driver. Looking back up at Bruce, he gave a small, genuine smile before shutting the cab door and hurriedly retreating.
You were mentally screaming but paused for a moment to reflect: You could tell that he was trying to charm you as he was laying it on rather thick, but you found it endearing. I mean, it’s not everyday that the Prince of Gotham lets you hang on his arm and accompany him. Besides, it really did seem like he wanted to get to know you. And most importantly…
He gave you his f-ing phone number!
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