#which isn’t the fault of anyone except the writers of that finale but like | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

afriendlyblackhottie · 4 years ago

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Boyfriend

Summary: Colin is your neighbor and best friend. Hell he might as well be your boyfriend except he isn’t.

Pairings: Colin Shea x Plus Size!Black!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, daddy kink, doggy style, missionary, cunnilingus, possibly triggering comments about weight, negging

(A/N: negging is when someone insults you with intentions to sleep with you. I can’t believe I finally finished a Colin story. I’d like to thank @queenoftheworldisdead and @whiskey-cokenfanfic for the ideas because apparently all I needed to do was put them together. Like most of my work this isn’t proofread I’m the slightest, but not only is it not proofread in the slightest, I also have e acrylics so I probably made even more mistakes than usually. Sorry for that. Btw this is pure writers insert. Not gonna deny it 🤷🏾‍♀️ Follow, like, reblog 💜 ✌🏾)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @zaddychris @queenoftheworldisdead @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @mariahthelioness29 @donutloverxo @little-baby-vixen @puffyam1yum1 @brattycherubwrites @iam-laiya @whiskey-cokenfanfic @doloreshazes @thedarkplume @toni9 @golden-ariess @tinystudentfirepurse @honeychicana @love-more122

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“And, what is this!”

Colin asked with a wide ass smile as he came out of your bedroom. He’d just kinda dropped in to hang out after one of his hookup’s boyfriends apparently decided to interrupt. Since you were used to him doing that by now you didn’t say anything.

When you’d moved in next door you’d immediately found out that he had a lot of guests. You’d ended up needing to tell him to keep it down a lot. He’d poke his head out of the door while he was naked before giving you that charming ass smirk and telling you sorry. Somehow in between that time you’d built up a soft spot for him and he started using your apartment to hide from those same guests after they’d over stayed their welcomes. Yeah it was awful, but it kind of worked out.

Not like whatever this was, was a one sided deal. In exchange for using your apartment he did things that you hated doing. Like when you had something wrong with your car he took a look under the hood. Had a flat tire? Here comes Colin to the rescue. Bad date? He’d find a way to get you out of it. You liked the deal the two of you had. Besides you actually enjoyed his company and he seemed to enjoy yours too because the two of you had started hanging out a lot even.

The biggest problem you had with him is that he had the habit of being nosy as hell. Going through your things. Looking over your shoulder as you tried to draw. If it had been anyone else you probably would have clobbered them by now. You didn’t want to admit it, but you kind of had a crush.

Which is why him finding your vibrator was super mortifying. You’d asked him to grab your phone so it was kind of your fault anyway. Since you’d set them to charge near each other. You just didn’t think about it when you’d asked because you had started making him a sandwich. Yeah you know how that sounded, but homeboy seemed to always be hungry and you actually liked the way the two of you were.

“Put that back!” You protested forgetting about the sandwich as he giggled. Your downstairs neighbors were probably pissed off because you’d started chasing him around only for him to jump over your couch with no issue. Fucking himbo. “Colin!”

“What’s the magic word?” He teased, waving it in the air.

You narrowed your eyes. “How about I’ll kill you!” Then as you were trying to catch him again, you tripped over his guitar case because this douche couldn’t not leave his shit everywhere. Ugh he’s so lucky that he’s pretty.

“Shit!” He said before hurrying to your side. You whimpered as he scooped you in his arms so that he could sit with you on the couch.

“You’re such an asshole.” You sniffled.

“I know. I know. I was only teasing, Sweetie,” he cooed as he started nuzzling your face with his nose. “I’m sorry.”

Then he started placing kiss after kiss on your forehead. You could see the device in his hand still so you reached over to snatch it away.

“You little shit,” he gasped.

“It’s mine.” You laughed as you tucked it into your shirt, before standing up to try and get away from him.

“Give it back!” He protested as you tried to get up to get away from him. Before you could get very far, he grabbed you pushing you onto the couch.

“Stop!” You giggled as he started tickling you as he tried to grab it.

He’d pushed your legs up so that he could get between them. You screamed as he continued his assault while also wiggling about trying to keep your toy out of his hands.

“Why do you want it so bad?” You asked as you laid back, trying to catch your breath. “That’s gross it’s been on my vagina.”

Colin laughed. “Maybe that’s why I want it.”

“Ewwwww! Colin!”

He finally stopped as the two of you ended up staring in each other eyes for a little too long. “Gimme it back,” he said.

“No.” You giggled. “It’s mine.”

He glared down at you before finally grabbing it from under your shirt, exposing your breasts to him. Of course.

“Hey!” You protested pushing your shirt down and then reaching for it again. Instead of handing it to you his gaze seemed to focus even more before wrapping his bicep around your inner thigh.

You were totally spread out for him at his mercy. Only wearing a pair of shorts and he’d already seen your boobs. When you tried to reach for it again he used one of his hands to pin you down. “Not so funny now, huh?” He smirked.

Suddenly it felt like the air had changed. He was on top of you snuggly between your thighs. Looking down at you. Ugh why did he have to be so-

You couldn’t even finish the thought as he placed his lips on yours. His mouth working yours ever so gently. Like he was afraid you’d deny him.

When you deepened it, it was almost like you couldn’t help yourself. You’d spent the last year harboring this crush. Seeing him bring girl after girl to his apartment and fuck now that you were thinking about it, you didn’t want to become one of them.

“We should stop,” you said breaking apart from him.

He nodded and raised off of you. “Sorry... I...”

“It’s okay...” you replied as you also sat up.

“I, um, I should go,” he said, as he stood. It was like neither of you could believe what had just happened.

You nodded and swallowed as he got up to grab his guitar and left. As you went to close the door behind him, he lingered for a bit like he was about to say something before shaking his head.

“I’ll see you.”

“Yeah,” you replied. When he was gone you put your back against the door and sighed because what the fuck were you supposed to do now.

You’d promised yourself that despite liking him you would never pursue it. It wasn’t even about his “guests.” Sure he’d been a good friend to you, but would that translate into more.

It may have been childish, but in the days that followed you did best to avoid him. You weren’t even sure if he was home. There’d been a noticeable silence with no women moaning and screaming his name at all hours of the night.

You didn’t walk into your living room to him asleep on the couch as he waited for his latest booty call to leave. Thinking about him not being around was making your stomach hurt. Fuck you hadn’t meant to screw up so badly.

Your friends having noticed your slump had set up for you to go on a date with this guy. Except you didn’t want to go out with some random guy. You wanted Colin. Fuck him. This is bullshit.

Of course you saw him as you were leaving. All that avoiding and you’d run into him at the worst possible moment. “Hey...” he said with a soft smile. “You look nice.”

Ugh. He was making your heart flutter. “Thanks.”

“Going out with your girls?” He asked.

“No. It’s this stupid blind date.” You rolled your eyes.

Colin’s face fell. “Oh... well. Call me if you need anything.” He smiled weakly. “Oh yeah did you still need me to take your car to the shop?”

“No I did already. Gotta pick it up Monday.” You smiled weakly.

“Okay...” he trailed off with a frown on his face. Like he wanted to say something more, but didn’t know what to say. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah. See ya.” You shot him this tiny smile. You started to go down the stairs, kind of hating how how sad you felt to walk away from him.

“Wait!” He suddenly said.

“Yeah?” You turned back to him a little quickly.

Colin stood there. Like he was trying to get his thoughts together before answering. “I... um... nothing. It’s not important. Call me if... you need me. Okay?”

You nodded and that was it. You waited for him to stop you again, but obviously he wasn’t going to as you walked out of the building.

Your entire date all you could think about was him. Sure it was a little rude, but you’d let him consume you. Your date was bleh anyway. You hate when your friends set you up.

As he rambled on about himself, you stabbed at your food with your fork. Not only was this how it’s been this entire time, but the food wasn’t even good. How long was he gonna keep going on and on about his fantasy football team. Sure Colin would go on and on about it, but it was so weird to have someone else do it. Also Colin didn’t interrupt you every time you opened your mouth unless it was to make you laugh.

Finally it was over and you wanted to go home and maybe get postmates or something. Before you could get in the car he’d stood in front of you so you were leaning against it. Damn this was awkward.

“It’s crazy. When Simone showed me your picture, I was a little apprehensive, but you actually are really pretty for a chubby girl,” he said.

And there it is.

Isn’t it funny how this shit goes. You don’t know if people thought that kind of thing was a compliment, but it really really really really wasn’t and now all you wanted to do was punch him.

He even tried to fucking kiss you after. “Why are you doing that duck thing?” He asked. “Put your lips like this.”

You turned your head. Fuck you should have never let them talk you into a date when your car was in the shop. How is it that they hate Colin, but this guy was fine? “Actually can you take me home? I think I left the stove on.” You crinkled your nose.

“You don’t have to lie to get me to go home with you,” he said.

Oh hell no. “Actually,” you started, crinkling your nose because ew, “I don’t have sex on the first date.”

“Oh,” he replied making a face. “Then what do you do on the first date.”

Yeah. Don’t get into a car alone with this man. You will be cussing your friend out for this. After you had food. “Uh, actually I think I’m gonna get an Uber.”

Thank fucking god he’d finally left you alone. You thought about calling Colin to come pick you up because sure he’d helped you out on a bunch of these things there was something about it that felt humiliating. Pretty for a chubby girl? Really dude. Fucking jerk. As if that’s even a real compliment.

And your friends would rather you be with that. Over a guy that actually cared. Not that you were even sure that Colin liked you. One kiss doesn’t mean anything with. He kissed a lot of girls. What made you any more special.

It wasn’t even about the other girls. If it had been you would have stopped being like that with him a long time ago. You didn’t care. You just missed the way the two of you were.

When you’d finally made it to your door you were already crying. Fat tears falling down your cheeks but since you didn’t wanna sound like you were on some Haunting of Hill House shit as you walked up the stairs you tried to keep yourself quiet, with your fist to your mouth.

You almost made it to your door, too. When some girl walked out of Colin’s apartment looking pissed. Then him noticing you before he could close it.

“Y/N? Fuck. It’s not what it looks like.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t care,” you said through the tears.

“Shit what happened?” He asked.

You didn’t say anything as you took out your key. Just wanting to get inside so you could be sad in peace. You’d rather him not pile onto the shittiness.

“Hey,” he said, putting his hand on your shoulder. “Talk to me. Did he do something?”

You closed your eyes tightly because you knew if you looked into his you’d spill everything. You couldn’t not talk to him. He made it impossible. It was so annoying.

Colin breathed. “Look, I know I kissed you and I know that you’ve been avoiding me since. I’ve just been trying to give you space. I didn’t want to freak you out, but I miss you. That’s why I kicked that girl out. She wasn’t worth it when I’m trying to be... that doesn’t matter. I at least wanna be like old times.”

You sniffled, finally opening your eyes. Ugh there it goes. “It was so bad, Colin.” Ah fuck him you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He sighed before pulling you into his arms. “Here let’s go inside. Okay? I’ll making you some tea.” He swiped his lips across your forehead.

You nodded but didn’t let go of him. He was just too warm. And his muscles were all tight around you and it felt good. Besides his chest was really good to cry into.

“It’s okay, Honey. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded. “You promise?”

“Yeah,” he replied before pulling your chin up with his fingers and kissing your nose. “Always.”

He made your tea while you showered and did your routine. You’d also spent a lot of time brushing your teeth because you’d felt gross after he kissed you. By the time you got back he was waiting for you already on the couch. Looking so inviting in your hoodie.

“Hey, that’s mine,” you said with a pout.

He narrowed his eyes. “This is my hoodie. You stole it from me.”

“You shouldn’t have left it here then.” You whined.

Colin chuckled before holding his arms out. “Get over here.”

You decided to get over it for now as you went to sit beside him, curling into his side. You reached forward to grab the cup of tea he had waiting for you. “Thank you, Colin,” you said.

“Always,” he replied. “Now tell me what happened.”

You rolled your eyes again because you didn’t even want to talk about it anymore, but with him there was no letting to. You sighed. “Do we have to?” You asked.

“Not taking no for an answer.”

You took a deep sigh before taking a sip of your tea. “Okay, so, he spent all night talking to me about his fantasy football team.”

He cringed. “Only I’m allowed to do that.”

“Exactly! And then he told me that I’m pretty for a chubby girl,” you said rolling your eyes.

“What?” He frowned.

“Yeah. I think he was trying to neg me.”

Colin sighed. “That doesn’t make it okay. I wish you would have called me.”

“Yeah. Maybe. Didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Hey. Stop it,” he said. “You can always calls me. I don’t care how far I am. I’ll hop on a plane if I have to.”

“Stop,” your voice shook as you spoke. “You don’t have to do the whole knight in shining armor thing.”

“I prefer Prince Charming.” He shrugged.

You rolled your eyes, as you sniffled. “Whatever.”

Colin chuckled before placing more kisses on your head. “Don’t you ‘whatever’ me. You should have called me. He didn’t do anything else did he?”

“He kissed me and it caught my off guard and he asked why I was doing a duck thing with my mouth!”

He frowned. “What the hell. And you let him take you home?”

“No. I got to freaked so I called can Uber.”

He nodded. “Okay.” He sighed. “Next time you have to call me.”

“I don’t even want there to be a next time. I’m so over dating.” You pouted, crossing your arms.

“Well, then, how about you don’t. Instead it’ll just be us?”

“Yeah as if you can go even three days without sex. You’re an addict.”

Colin’s jaw dropped. “I’ll have you know I haven’t had sex since before you started avoiding me.”

“What about that girl?”

“I told you it didn’t feel right,” he answered. “I was only with her because I got mad and that wasn’t fair.”

“Mad about what?”

“That you were going on a date with some other guy,” he confessed with a sigh. “I don’t want you to go on dates with other guys. I only want you to go on dates with me.”

So there it was. You’d thought about this moment so many times before. About what it would feel like for Colin to like you back. Honestly it felt pretty good.

You looked up at him and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so nervous. “You sure you want that?”

“I’ve been doing boyfriend things for you for a year and I miss it.” True. “Might as well make it official.”

“Colin, I... look if you’re serious about this then you need to promise that you’re committed because I know you and I know how you get.”

He took a deep breath. “I know, but I know that I want you. I’ve never been like this with anyone. I love you, Y/N.”

“You’re so annoying,” you said, turning so he couldn’t see that he’d made you tear up as you wiped away each one that slid down your cheek.

All he did was kiss the top of your head. “Say it back.”

You shook your head. “Go away.”

He laughed before pushing you onto your back so he could crawl on top of you. “Don’t fuck with me. Say it back.”

“Colin!” You giggled.

His nose touches yours as he glared down at you. Lips getting ever so close to yours. “Say it back.”

“Fine,” you replied dramatically, even if you couldn’t help the smile that was on your face. “I love you, too.”

“Yeah?” He whispered, pecking your lips ever so soft.

“Mhm,” you hummed putting your hands in his hair. When the kiss deepened you let yourself feel him. Didn’t even think about pulling away this time. Pushed whatever thoughts to the back of your mind. None of it mattered anymore.

You fisted his shirt in your hand as his tongue started going against hers. There was something so yummy about him kissing you. You can’t believe that Colin was really your boyfriend.

He did that thing again where he wrapped his bicep around your upper thigh so he could get situated between your legs. This time you didn’t even think to pull away from him. “Colin,” you moaned into his mouth.

“That’s it, Baby,” he whispered pulling away so he could take off his hoodie.

You couldn’t help yourself as you grabbed it. “Mine.”

“Are you- no!” He tried to grab it out of your hands. He’s so lucky he’s so muscly because he balled it up and threw it across the room. “I want my hoodie back.”

“But, I wear it when I masturbate.” You pouted.

“Really?” He asked with this dopey smile spreading across his face.

You snorted. “No. I do think about you when I do it though.”

“Yeah? It’s okay I’ve accidentally said your name during sex.”

Your jaw dropped before smacking his arm. “Colin!”

He laughed. “That’s why that girl left so quick earlier. She kissed me, but I was thinking about you.”

“You’re such a jerk.”

“Yeah, but it’s cuz I’m crazy about you.” He leaned down to kiss your neck.

You let out a moan at the feeling. “Unless you plan on taking care of me I suggest you stop doing that.”

“Oh, I plan on spending all night taking care of you,” he whispered.

“Can you get me food first. I’m starving.”

Colin chuckled. “How about we order in and until it gets here I make you cum with my mouth like I’ve been wanting to.”

You smiled lazily. “I like that idea.”

Obviously he kept his word. He had you pick whatever you wanted before laying you back to tug your shorts off. Being exposed to him like this was making you feel a little shy, but you didn’t have the chance to think about it once his long was licking your clit.

Your hands went to his hair as he bent you up so your legs were over his shoulders as he put his hands on the back of your thighs. “Got the prettiest pussy,” he said before going back to feasting on you.

“Colin,” you whimpered. “Fuck.”

He was making your stomach quiver. Putting his hands under your ass getting a grip so he could really taste you. Until you started trying to move your hips against his face. Damn he looked so pretty like this. Fuck he was gonna make you cum.

Seriously looking into his eyes as he was between your brown thighs was so sinful. He was eating you out like you were the best meal ever. Making you cry and moan for him. It was literally everything you’d been wanting from him.

“I’m cumming!” You squeaked, throwing your head back. “Fuck me, Colin. Please,” you whined as he kept going.

“Here go get on the bed. I’d prefer our first time not being on the couch.” He raised back up so he could kiss you softly.

You nodded as he got off of you so you could stand on your shaky legs. He chuckled, pulling you into a hug. You wrapped you arms around his waist, needing to feel close to him.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

He grabbed your hand as he led you to your room. Stopping every so often during the short walk to kiss you. You don’t blame him for not being able to help himself. Now that the two of you were honest about your feelings you weren’t sure you’d be able to get away from his embrace anytime soon.

You kneeled on the bed in front of him and he pulled you into his arms to kiss you again. You started to undo his pants, getting on your stomach as his cock finally popped out. Your jaw dropped as you looked at it and then up at him. Sure you always expected for there to be a reason he was getting girls back to back. Yeah he has a pretty face, but there was definitely a bigger reason and now that you were faced with it, it was like every thought left your brain.

Wrapping your hand around it, you brought the head to your tongue. Moaning around him at the taste. “Fuck, you gotta big dick.”

“Were you not expecting it?” He asked.

“I mean I was, but fuck. I don’t even know if you’re gonna fit.”

“Oh I’ll make it fit,” he said, hissing as you placed open mouthed kisses in it. “Fuck, Baby. Stop. I wanna be inside you.”

“Then get inside me.” You pouted up at him. “But I wanna suck it later.” You got back on your knees and he smacked your butt.

He chuckled before taking his shirt off. When his pants were finally thrown wherever, he moved to remove your own top. You’d been so preoccupied looking at him you didn’t even realize you even still had it on. “Always wanted to see these perfect tits,” he groaned before diving in.

When he finally laid you down, his didn’t stop licking and sucking them. He was going so hard you were pretty sure he was trying to leave a mark on purpose. You were so just sensitive that you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning even louder.

“Colin,” you whimpered.

Finally he got on top of you. Lining himself up with your core. “No turning back now, Baby,” he said as he started to push into you.

You cried out as his thickness stretched you out. He pressed his lips to yours again as he got a little deeper, but then pulled away to hiss, “Fuck, you’re fucking tight.”

You threw your head back. “Harder.” Despite the slight burn you felt from how thick he was all you wanted was more. He felt so goddamn good.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he replied finally tearing himself away from your breasts.

“I don’t care fuck me harder,” you whimpered. “Please? I need it.” You moved your hips. “Colin, I need it.”

“Yeah?” He asked before planting his palms on either side of your head as he started to rock in and out of you. “Fuck. You’re so wet.” He groaned. “Fuck I shouldn’t have waited this long to do this.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist and moaned as he started picking up pace. Making you feel so nice and full of him. It was honestly everything you’d hoped. Maybe even better.

He reached between the two of you to rub your clit. Not only was he stuffing your pussy, but the added stimulation was only bringing you closer to your peak. “I’m cumming!” You cried.

As you came your muscles contracted, you pushed him out and he took the chance to turn you over. Without any warning he pushed back in. Since you were still in the midst of an orgasm you were so sensitive. His pelvis smacking into your ass with each thrust.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you cried, moving back against him. Soaking pussy still tightening around him.

“What’d you call me, Babe?” He asked, placing a kiss on the back of your shoulder.

“You’re my daddy,” you sobbed into your blankets.

Colin groaned. “Fuck yeah I’m your daddy, Baby. Don’t you ever fucking forget that.” He reached down so he could wrap a hand around your neck. “I’ve never fucked a girl without a condom before. So glad you’re the first. Pussy’s so damn good.”

“Please don’t stop,” you begged. Feeling the next orgasm right there. “I need your dick.”

“I’m not gonna stop until you cum again,” he replied. “I know you wanna cum again.”

You nodded as you let out gasps of air with each movement. “I am. It’s right there. Fucking harder.”

He smacked your ass and you threw your head back. “Fucking cum for me.”

You nodded, feeling like you were tearing up again. God you wanted it so damn bad. “Colin, Colin, Colin,” you chanted as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

He didn’t let up. Shoving himself inside of you as he felt his own peak creeping up to him. He just wanted to make sure you were taken care of before he could finally let go because once you did he couldn’t stop himself. Filling you up with his hot cum. Not stopping as he fucked it into you.

While you slumped over, he laid beside you before pulling you into his arms. “Goddamn,” he breathed. “We waited way to long to do that.” You nodded, chest heaving up and down as you laid your head on his shoulder.

As the two of you were getting all relaxed and basking in that post-sex glow a knock on your door made for jump.

“Shit, I forgot we ordered food.” He laughed before kissing your temple.

#Colin Shea smut #Chris Evans smut #Colin Shea x reader #Colin Shea x black!reader #Colin Shea x plus!size reader #Colin Shea x female!reader #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x plus size reader

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dimples-of-discontent · 4 years ago

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Oh anons flooding my inbox to tell me that I’m a conspiracy theorist for thinking there’s more to this finale than meets the eye and/or that it’s totally the writers’ fault, you have no idea how much I do not care! I’m tagging anything related as “finale theories” and you should feel free to blacklist it using whatever method you so choose. I’m staying away, until the dust settles, from drawing any conclusions about what exactly happened to the script (either to make it what it was pre-covid or post-covid) or what cut scenes might have contained, or who was at fault for how it all turned out.

To the anons who think I’m reading too much into Jensen and Misha’s relative “silence” on the finale, I have some comments. With Misha it’s harder to tell, but I am completely convinced that Jensen is deliberately not engaging with finale-related content because he’s so alienated, angry, and disappointed. I think Misha is finding ways to talk about it that he thinks will support the fandom, rather than the network, and frankly he is far more used to having to deal with the feeling of being screwed by the network but still loving the fans. But Jensen really trusted them and they did him really dirty.

Leaving aside the fact that neither Jensen nor Misha was in the CW “thank you” video--which is LOUD AF of them--let’s look at the social media angle. We already know that Jensen wasn’t happy with the finale as it was written (which likely included Dean dying and, yes, that was probably his biggest beef, but I’ll bet he had some words about Misha’s character too) and talked to several people about it. He was then told to accept it and make his peace and he did that and did the best he could. Now, since November 5th we’ve heard very little from him and definitely not in the ways you would expect to hear from the star of a long-running show like SPN.

He’s been much more forthcoming about how proud he was of the scene he shot with Misha in “Despair.” Jensen and Misha both posted about 15x18 and Jensen happily talked about it on a livestream. It meant so much to him personally (as the last scene they’d film together, or as a momentous moment in the show, or as something else) that he had someone film it on his phone just for him and admitted breaking character. They talked it through beforehand a lot. They talked about it after a lot and texted each other fan reaction videos. They were glad to be able to do something that meant so much to us and that brought the story to this point.

Over on Twitter, Misha seems pretty much his same self, using the proper hashtag (which in the old days of Twitter he used to mock Jensen for not knowing how to do) and RTing nostalgic comments from Kripke, Jim Michaels, etc. His personal tweets just tagged Jensen and Jared. The set pics he shared were from 15x18. Jensen just gave Entertainment Weekly a RT for the finale. He’s pretty much full-time on Instagram, but that’s still pretty little engagement. He liked two tweets, both on 11/5 when 15x18 was airing, by Misha and Bobo Berens, but zero tweets related to the finale. (Jared tweeted during the finale a few times and then sent some comfort to the fans. FWIW he also didn’t RT or tag any network folks. I think he’s probably less happy than he seems, but he’s a company boy doing a new show with them so his hands are tied.)

Over on Instagram, on the day of the finale Misha was busy. He posted a pic of Maise “Spon on-set props assistant” in a trench coat robe. Jensen liked that. He also posted a video recapping and asking people to tune into the finale. Jensen did not like that. THEN he posted a pic of him and Jensen filming 15x18. Jensen liked that. Pic of Misha and the kids about to watch SPN? Jensen likes it. Pic of Misha crying during the finale and saying how much he’s going to miss Sam and Dean that actually tags Jensen? Jensen does not like it. The gist? Jensen “likes” all Misha’s posts from that day except the two related to the content of the finale (rather than watching it with West and Maison...and besides, soft boy Jensen isn’t going to not like a pic of West and Maison!).

And here’s Jensen’s account. On November 3rd, Jensen posts to thank TV Guide. On the 19th he posts to thank Entertainment Weekly. On the day of the finale, he posts a pic of Dean’s boots and a video of him getting dressed as Dean “for the last time - for now.” (I think that was a clumsy attempt not to spoil anything but I will also hold onto the idea that maybe he will do his own version of a sequel. The day after the finale he posts a slightly salty photo of the piece of rebar (aka “the rusty nail”) that killed Dean captioned “Excuse me....uh, ‘set dec’!!! Can we get this removed please?!?!” and uses the hashtag “spnfamilyforever.” That’s the hashtag for us--for the fans--rather than anything official. Those posts were both for us too, showing him loving Dean and loving being Dean and being just as pissed as us about his death. (For the record, Jared posted a pic of him watching the finale, also hashtagging the spnfamily, and Jensen liked it.)

All the people that he’s not thanking reads very loudly. Contrast to all the thanks he (and everyone else) were throwing like roses at the 300th episode party. Jensen is a generous guy. He’s professional, everyone likes him, and he likes to credit everyone for their accomplishments. For him to be this silent and not write a single caption thanking ANYONE aside from TV Guide and Entertainment Weekly (who he needs to keep on his good side for his own production company)? IS SO OUT OF CHARACTER!!! Every con, every interview, he talks about how they couldn’t do what they do without the help of all these other people along the way. To not have it in him to thank those people? He must be hurting so incredibly badly.

He cares about us so he’ll do what he can for the SPN family. But it won’t surprise me if the clusterfuck of an ending alienated him so much that we don’t get things we might otherwise (more panels, for example, or cons) because he is just done working with the people who hurt him. I’m glad he was smiling in that most recent livestream because he sure doesn’t seem happy right now.

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scandalsavagefanfic · 4 years ago

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Hello! I am a huge fan of ur writing. I've loved everything I've read of yours. I've read alot of what you've posted, except for a couple of the tags that are squicky for me (so I'm very thankful you tag very thoroughly). No judgement for the squick, it's just not for me. & when I'm having a bad day, I usually just go thru ur ao3 and find something to reread. I think about Therapy's Bruce & Jason every damn day. While I obvs appreciate ur darker more "problematic" content (I really vibe with some of the themes you write about bc of my own trauma, & so it's very cathartic to read about in a fictional setting), I am truly a sucker for ur more happy content. The Happily Ever After verse also lives in my head rent free. Idk more wholesome stuff just seems more special when you write it. Anyways. I would die for you. But the point of this ask is cause I'm curious as to why you don't like Urban Legends? I'm sorry if you already talked about it here or on twitter and I missed it. I was just wondering because I really enjoy your take on things and would love to hear why you dislike it. I've been enjoying it so far personally, but I am always open to DC comics criticism.

Aw thank you so much! I'm so flattered by everything you just said. You're so sweet ❤❤❤❤❤

I haven't talked about Urban Legends here or twitter (I haven't been very active in either place lately. Just a lot going on and no energy 😔) but I'm happy to do it here.

Before I start though, I just want to add a standard disclaimer and make it clear that if you like it, there's nothing wrong with that and you don't have to let me ruin it for you lol. Like what you like.

That said, since you asked...

I said this when I was talking about it on discord, that there is a difference between hope and expectation. I always hope that a new story centered on Jason (or anyone really, but things have been especially egregious for Jay for 15 years) will be good or at least treat the character with a minimal level of respect (to be honest, the bar is super fucking low). But my expectations always temper my hope, to keep it from getting unrealistic. Because my expectations are based on experience.

The long history of Jason Todd, since even before his resurrection, has been one of retroactively trying to make him "a bad seed" in order to absolve Bruce of any responsibility in his death.

I don't even expect DC or their writers to start honoring the fact that Jason was not an angry, reckless Robin (and less of the later than Dick or Tim and definitely Damian). There plenty of ways that retcon can be folded into his history and be compelling and sympathetic. And if they're going to stick with that retcon, I'm only asking that they do it in one of those compelling and sympathetic ways because Jason was 15 when he died, heroically, in one of the most selfless acts in comics, to save a woman who literally handed him over to be brutally murdered. He was 12 when Bruce plucked him off the streets, he'd been homeless and fending for himself for at least two years. I personally think that Jason's story hits harder for him and Bruce if their original, canon relationship, of Jason as starry-eyed and eager to learn and absolutely devoted to Bruce and Bruce to Jason, is preserved. But Jason's origins does leave room for a meaningful interpretation of him as angry and frustrated at the lack of meaningful results of Bruce's methods.

And that's really where my irritation at stories like Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer and Batman The Adventure Continues has it's roots.

Every time one of these stories comes out, I think (or hope, rather) that this will be the one that remembers and respects the origins of the Jason and the Red Hood, that takes into account the changed sensibilities of comics readers in the 30 years since Jason's death and the subtle, 20 year, retroactive campaign to make him the "bad Robin". The "born bad" trope is played out and literally no one likes the message it implies. That some kids are just bad eggs and there's nothing parents or the adults around them can do. Especially when it's played as the kid's fault. If Jason's time as Robin is going to be characterized by anger, then it should be rooted in anger at the social injustices he witnessed as he grew up in an impoverished, crime-ridden, area and the horrors he faced raising himself when every day was a battle for survival. There are topical, meaningful, stories to tell with that backdrop.

But those are never the stories we get.

⚠⚠ Spoilers for Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer ⚠⚠

I'm particularly disappointed in Urban Legends because for the first issue, it looked like that was the kind of story we were going to get. I was put off by the first flashback of Jason being mesmerized by Bruce's guns, and I got that feeling in my gut that it was a bad sign. Jason depicted as impatient and overconfident and the scene with the guns is heavy-handed foreshadowing that got my spidey-sense tingling. I had a inkling then (in the first three pages) of how this story was going to play out, but it was early and I could still see many narrative paths that could lead to a satisfying story. My concerns were soothed somewhat and the little flame of my hope fanned, with the flashback of Alfred scolding Bruce, with Barbara's concern for Jason. A bit of worry returned with the way Jason ruthlessly pursued an addict who didn't appear to be a dealer and with the ending of the issue. The stuff with the addict sat wrong with me but the ending was tempered some by how despicable Tyler's dad was written. The scene was clearly set so that the reader could sympathize with Jason's decision and the scene with the addict could be brushed aside as a side-effect of comics over-the-top need for constant action, so I still held hope.

Issue 2 made me uncomfortable and it's where my hope starts to take a backseat to my expectations. I can dismiss Jason's self-deprecating internal monologue as unreliable narration, except that the flashback reinforces his thought process to explicitly show that it's not unreliable narration, and should be taken at face value. Jason faces physical abuse at the hands of his mother's drug dealer and when the flashback continues later, Jason kills the drug dealer. To be clear, this is a pre-Bruce Jason. His mom is still alive. He's like... 10. He kills this guy for shoving his head into a wall and implying Jason's mother paid for her drugs with sex. This is a scene that serves a single purpose. To show that Jason has always been prone to violence.

In the spirit of full disclosure, there is the small chance the drug dealer might not be dead. But the story obviously wants the reader to think he is, and it hasn't done anything to change that yet.

Starlin already did this story with The Diplomat’s Son in 1988 and he did it infinitely better. AND that’s still technically canon. So now I’m supposed to believe that Jason lost his cool bad enough to kill two douche bags before his sweet 16? Like it’s totally normal for abused kids raised in poverty, who’ve led hard and heartbreaking lives to just... haul off and kill people? That’s bullshit, and when taken with the Jason in the third issue, who is little more than an idiot thug, this story is really doubling down on some fucked up stereotypes.

Which brings us to the most recent issue. I went into this installment with very low expectations. I thought this story was going to be about Jason, through this experience with Tyler, a young boy with a similar background to Jason's, coming to the realization that Bruce's way is the best way and that Bruce did his best by Jason.

That would be annoying (in no small part because it takes increasingly absurd levels of plot armor to keep Bruce's no kill rule relevant, let alone irrefutably right). But I can probably live with that, if only because maybe if Jason officially falls back into line with the Bats crusade, maybe I'll get stories that treat him with respect, stories that don't relegate him to comic relief, dumb brute, or a background body with no lines in a story about the Joker burning Gotham (like Jason would just fucking stand there quietly for that).

And that may still be where the story is going, Jason realizing Bruce is right.

But holy shit do I not have the right words to describe how fucking insulting and gross issue three is.

From start to finish--including the flashback--Jason is written as cruel and fucking stupid. Like straight up dumb.

The entire issue is Bruce explaining the fucking basics to Jason like it's his first day. And Jason flies off the fucking handle and terrorizes a doctor he knows isn't a part of making the Cheerdrops, beats the shit out of some random addicts, and finally, when he can't accomplish anything on his own because he's a dumb brute he calls Barbara for help and rushes in with no information where he's promptly incapacitated and must now wait to be rescued by Batman.

This panel is the least of the issues sins but I can’t screenshot the entire story but it’s representative of the tone for the whole issue (and retroactively tainted the prior two issues).

This is beyond insulting. The only conclusions Jason comes to in this issue are the ones Bruce leads him to by talking to him like he can’t make the simplest connections. And like... in this story Jason can’t make the simplest connections.

This (and the Jason throughout the entirety of this issue) is a far cry from the Jason we fell in love with in Under the Red Hood, who was competent and strategic and intelligent enough to seize control of Gotham’s underworld from Black Mask (who’s no fucking slouch, he’s the first and only person to unify organized crime in Gotham) AND elude and manipulate Bruce until the time and place of his choosing.

This is a far cry from even the Red Hood and the Outlaws Jason who is competent enough to fight the League of Shadows and Ra’s al Ghul (among very dangerous and skilled others) and smart enough to create antidotes for mind control nanotech viruses.

As he should be, by the way. Jason Todd is one of the best, most comprehensively trained fighters in DC’s stable of non powered vigilantes. He’s not irrational or hot headed. He’s pragmatic, tactically minded, and patient. He’s a detective. Right now. Has been since he was 12. Bruce doesn’t have to make him one because he already is.

Jason is not a stupid thug who uses his fists because his brain doesn’t work. And I can’t tell you how so very exhausted I am by this narrative.

This is actually the most egregious example of Jason’s skills and intelligence being not just undermined but dismissed entirely. Even Morrison’s Jason had some degree of competency.

The one, single redeeming factor of this story is the art. It’s beautiful. And Marcus To is a godsend he seems to be one of only a couple of artists who remember that Jason was a child when he was Robin and I’m literally only buying this book because of him.

Anyway, I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to come out so... um... passionately lol. I’m just very very tired. My intention with this isn’t to ruin it for you, if you like it, that’s fine.

But this issue shot this story to the top of my "Vehemently Despise” list. 1) Batman: Urban Legends (Cheer), 2) Battle for the Cowl/Morrison’s Batman and Robin, 3) Batman The Adventure Continues.

I hope the next issues somehow salvage this dumpster fire. But I’m not expecting it.

(Damnit. That sounded harsh again. To reiterate, I’m not trying to judge anyone who enjoys it, I just personally hate it and you asked me why lol 😅)

#Batman #red hood #batman: urban legends #nice art #shit story #or at least shit characterization #jason todd deserves better #this response got long and I didn't edit it #please forgive any errors #and/or unclear spots #spoilers

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literatikoo · 3 years ago

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Jess Mariano's alleged communication problems

If there is one thing the Gilmore Girls fandom agrees upon, whether you're team Jess or Dean or Logan, it's that Jess isn't great at communicating. There's just a consensus that he's not great at discussing his problems and that's the number 1 reason why his and Rory's relationship blew up in their face in season 3. But... this is a (somewhat) unfounded complaint? Don't get me wrong, I know Jess can be harsh and rude and really knows how to hit the nail on the head sometimes but there are also multiple instances where he talks after being pushed a little. Like every single time he's talked to Luke about Rory problems ("The girls I like don't give a damn about me," "I told her I loved her" and the infamous swan episode) or when he tells Rory, a girl he barely knows, that his mom doesn't want him back for Christmas.

The problem with Jess is that he picks and chooses who to communicate too. He definitely doesn't talk about Liz to Luke because he knows that Luke just doesn't believe that Liz is a bad person and a neglectful mother. And seriously, we've seen Luke enable Liz' terrible behaviour multiple times on the show, do you really think he would've believed whatever Jess had to say about her? He talks to Rory about Liz that one time and she doesn't believe him either and both we and Jess know that she has a right to that because she's never met Liz, but this is still enough for Jess to never bring her up again (at least from what we see) because he's a 17 year old kid with a terrible relationship with his parents. NO 17 year old kid who's been treated bad by their parents would want to open up about it because it's pretty strongly ingrained in us that having negative emotions against your parents is WRONG. On the other hand, Jess knows that Luke sees his and Rory's relationship and may even help because he has his own unique relationship with the Gilmore Girls, which is why he's much more open about Rory and even seeks advice on occasion.

Now, let's talk about Jess' less than stellar communication moments:

1. Lying about school and Walmart: Jess skives off school a LOT to work at Walmart and save up money. He doesn't tell anyone about it. Why? Because for everyone else in Stars Hollow, and for most of us too, school is important and education is a positive thing needed for growth. But who knows how often Jess went to school before SH, we already know he has a bad relationship with the educational system but why? When he goes back to NY in s2 it's obvious he's not going to school and we know Liz moved around a lot so he may be a lot more behind in school than we know. Yes, he's smart and he reads a lot but that's not enough to do well in school; you need to be able to conform a fair amount and I don't think Jess even went enough to know that. Jess already wasn't planning on going to college and he knows that living with Luke is temporary, which is why he puts more importance into saving up money. He was already working for the future, just in a different way from everyone else. It's obvious that he also wasn't planning to flunk out of school, it happened because he wasn't attending enough not because he was failing (which pisses me off so much don't even get me started). He was going to graduate and then he was going to use the money he saved up while looking for a job that suited him. And that's a pretty solid plan honestly, especially since he didn't have the luxury to suddenly decide to go to 4 year college because his girlfriend told him too like Dean. But this is something else he just couldn't talk about to Luke or Rory, who both think he's capable of great things within the academic sphere. Mind you, once Luke found out he was skipping school he didn't deal with things in the best way either. He stole his car, effectively cutting off Jess' last bit of independence. I really feel like Jess was just waiting to graduate before he had THE talk with Rory about their future, and it was obvious he was thinking longterm ("22.8 miles"). That is before everything goes to shit.

2. Keg! Max!: Let me preface this by saying that Jess definitely made irreversible mistakes in this episode... but it wasn't for the lack of trying. This is the episode that he finds out he's not graduating and we can see him struggling with this information, he's tense and angry and his emotions are simmering. His interactions with Rory, which are usually so easygoing, are surrounded by this air of finality. At this moment, he knows he's going to lose her and his home with Luke because that's what the deal was. But he still goes with her to that party and he still does the bare minimum of mingling. Throughout the party he tells Rory that he wants to leave, I'm guessing to talk to her about what happened. But they don't (this is NOT Rory's fault btw, she had no way to know what happened either) and instead Jess' emotions get the better of him. This is the first of the two instances where we really see how non communicative Jess can be. However I still maintain that if Dean hadn't gotten involved, Jess and Rory would've been able to talk. (fuck Dean)

3. Jess leaves: This is the second case where we see him being truly non communicative, and unfortunately I don't have much to say in his defence. Except that he probably was still reeling from losing his home and meeting his Dad and just didn't know how to put that insane amount of emotion into words. He also probably thought that Rory just didn't want to talk to him anymore because of how terribly he treated her, especially since he was just going to give her more bad news. He could see himself self destructing, and didn't want Rory to be collateral damage.

4. Smaller instances (Swan song, Not calling Rory, fighting with Lorelai): Okay, I think the swan incident was Rory's fault, because he was telling her the truth and just didn't want to get into it in front of Emily. But she wasn't ready to hear it until she talked to Dean, which honestly was a sucky move on her part. The not calling her when he said he would while they were dating in that one random episode was also a similar misunderstanding. The thing in common with both of these instances was that he was ready to learn afterwards; he said he was willing to go back to Emily's house and he bought them tickets to the Distillers and from what the show tells us they had a lot more consistent date nights after that. This was Jess' first proper relationship and he was really trying. Now the Lorelai thing... he just didn't want her in his business. They had no relation to each other and she was very condescending to him the first time they met, he wasn't great either but when an adult talks to you the way she did after you've just been uprooted at your mothers whims, you tend to hate them a little. And honestly I always thought that Jess being weirded out by Lorelai's involvement in his and Rory's relationship was more normal 17 year old behaviour than Dean being overly friendly with her.

So, in conclusion, because he made two big fatal communication mistakes, he's labelled as the broody non talking type. When we see most of the characters actually do the same (Rory drops out of Yale and cuts off ties with her mother, Lorelai sleeps with Christopher after months of miscommunication with Luke, Luke doesn't tell Lorelai, his fiance, that he has a daughter), seriously, they've all made mistakes and this doesn't diminish the mistakes that Jess has made and the hurt he has caused, but he also doesn't deserve to have non communicative as a personality trait. If it was seriously that big of a problem, he wouldn't have been able to grow from it that quickly (by the end of s4) and by reading self help books of all things. I also think it comes off like that because he was in the show for so little time, and that's what the writers chose to focus on.

So tldr, Jess isn't as non communicative as the show wants us to believe and he definitely isn't broody.

#gilmore girls #gilmore girls meta #jess mariano #rory gilmore #luke danes #liz danes #lorelai gilmore #literati #character meta #jess mariano meta #anti dean forrester #not really but my entire blog is anti dean forrester so

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writings-of-a-hufflepuff · 4 years ago

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My Liability, My Deadweight

Fandom: The Chronicles of Riddick

Collection/Series: My Liability, My Deadweight

Pairing: Richard B Riddick x Female Fat + Glasses Wearing Reader

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long

Rating: T (Swearing, Riddick is Riddick, violence)

Warnings: Swearing, violence towards deadly alien creatures, violence from deadly alien creatures towards the reader

Summary: None of this was supposed to happen. You were supposed to be on a holiday resort planet, relaxing by glistening waters and forgetting your troubles. Not traipsing through a deadly jungle on an uncharted planet with a just as deadly companion who seems torn between helping you and hating you.

Notes: So I guess this is going to be similar to Western AU Din in that i’ll probably write some stuff in the same sort of world/vein as this. I’m just interested in the idea of Riddick with a reader who is the opposite of a survivalist, who isn’t fit or strong, who is scared. The idea of Furyans having mates or soulmates that they don’t really get to choose and the idea of Riddick having to come to terms with the idea that the person he wants to protect so bad needs his protection more than most is interesting to me.

This is probably such a niche thing to write, not only because the fandom is tiny, but also because people tend to write Riddick fanfic where the reader or OC is extremely capable, but I wanted to write it. So self-indulgent fic coming up.

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Kratos is a horror show of a planet. It’s the sort of planet you’d never thought you’d end up on, the sort of planet that you saw on horror vids and read about in the tales of survivors of tragedy. You weren’t supposed to be on it. You were just on a short trip, just supposed to go to a stupid holiday planet, at the insistence of your boss that you needed a break from your desk, that you worked too hard. You were a city slicker, an urban citizen, not an outdoorsman or an adventurer, certainly not the sort of person who’d come to a planet like this. But, your pilot had needed to make a stop, said there was a problem with the fuel cells that he needed to check out. So you’d made a pit stop on a barely charted planet. Nothing good ever happens on a barely charted planet.

Covered in dense, muggy jungle, the planet would have been beautiful had it not been trying to kill you and your, for want of a better word, companion at every turn. It was covered in vibrant green forest, tropical plants, exotic and brightly coloured flowers (many of which, it turns out, were deadly themselves). There were brightly coloured bird-like creatures and primitive mammals that scurried through the trees and across the ground. It would have been beautiful, except for the limp in your walk from the burning claw marks deep in your thick thigh, except for the blood that followed in your wake, the dead bodies of the crew you’d left behind, and the yellow eyes that seemed to follow the two of you under the dark canopy.

After a stupid decision by your group to go out into the jungle to try and find a settlement of some sort, just because it had seemed like (as if there was any real reason to leave), you’d been picked off one by one. You could only describe the beasts as fucked up panthers. Two tails with stingers at the end, sharp spindly spines along their backs, an elongated neck, venomous fangs and sharp teeth and claws. They were hard to spot, silent in the underbrush and decidedly and most definitely deadly. The only reason you were still even alive was because of Riddick, because for some unknown reason the man, the murderer, had decided to stick close to you, like glue. You weren’t complaining.

At the time of boarding the ship for your trip it had seemed horrifying, to know that you were travelling on the same transport as Richard B. Riddick, escaped convict, known murder, predator. He was the sort of man your parents whispered about, the sort of man that you never wanted to meet. He was someone from your worst nightmare. Now he is your saving grace and surprisingly not what you had expected of a notorious big bad. While he meets many of your expectations, crude at times, harsh, and physically intimidating, he defies them too. He is at times oddly gentle with you and, the mere fact he cares about someone’s survival other than his own, is in itself a surprise. A fortunate one for you.

“Are we nearly back to the ship?” You ask because your leg is killing you, because you so desperately just want to get off this planet even if it means being stuck in a confined space with a convicted murderer. You hate this planet, you hate the constant feeling of fear and of uselessness. You hate the truth of it all, that you are weak, vulnerable, prey not the predator. It has you realising your many weaknesses, many vulnerabilities, many failings.

“Shhh…” Riddick raises his hand out in front of you, a universal sign to stop, while the other comes to his lips in a shushing motion. If he were a dog, his ears might very well have pricked up at the slightest sound.

To you nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There were no unusual sounds or movement in the brush. You couldn’t see anything out of place. Just as you begin to notice the silence, the lack of sound, that is the moment everything goes terribly wrong.

“Riddic-” You were cut off by your own scream.

Things happen so fast that you don’t really have time to process them. One minute you are standing behind Riddick attempting to get his attention, the next a dark shape crashes into you and you’re on the jungle floor a heavy weight pressing on your chest and stopping your breathing. Your hands reach up instinctively, pushing against the creature in an effort to keep sharp gnashing teeth from your face, but you’re not strong and you’re not a fighter and you can feel your arms beginning to collapse already. Can hear yourself screaming for Riddick even as part of you thinks he’ll leave you there, abandon you to be eaten alive. There is a deep fear that this is it, this is the end. That it shall be painful, terrifying, lonely, and unfamiliar.

Claws scratch at your arms, blood runs over your skin in rivulets as you scrabble in the dirt. Then as suddenly as the weight came it was gone, hefted off of you with an angry roar and the sound of a knife hitting flesh over and over again. You don’t look, can’t bring yourself to look, just lie there and breathe, in and out. You don’t want to see him do what he’s good at, don’t want to see alien blood, a dying creature, the parts of him that are less than gentle. So you stare up at the canopy and catch your breath, feeling the blood flow down your arms, the bruises that ache over your stomach, hips and legs. Feel the relief flow through you, combat the shock, as you realise you are not dead, you are alive, and he did not leave you to die.

You’re rather numb in truth until you hear him muttering above you, “goddamn liability, deadweight…”, it shouldn’t upset you because it’s true. But it does, it upsets and angers you because you didn’t want to be here, you didn’t want any of this and you didn’t ask him to hang around, didn’t ask him to help you. You had no say in this. This was not your idea of a holiday, your idea of fun, or your fault.

It forces you to your feet, forces you, despite the blood dripping from your wounds, to stand and face him, despite the bruises, despite the pain, despite the fear. You find yourself planting your feet even as you sway unsteadily, standing with hands on your wide hips and a scowl aimed at a man that could kill you easily. For the first time you’re too angry to overthink your actions towards the man. For a moment you stop thinking and start acting.

“If i’m such a goddamn liability, then just leave me here! I didn’t ask for you to stay, Riddick! I didn’t ask for your help! If it’s such a fucking chore to have me along, if i’m really dead weight then leave me! Go!” You didn’t normally scream at anyone, it wasn’t your personality type. You were quiet, shy, retiring. A wallflower. You didn’t scream. You didn’t start fights. You didn’t do any of that. Anger wasn’t your natural response to anything. Fear was. But after being hunted down, time and time again by giant alien cats with venomous fangs and an uncanny ability to hide on a jungle planet, all while being called a liability, a dead weight by the one person you had to rely on, well, you were finally at your wits end. You were in pain, you were upset, frustrated and ready to just go home.

You didn’t understand it. Why Riddick even bothered with you, practically a stranger. You knew you were a liability, that’s why it hurt so much when he said it. You were soft, emotionally and physically. You were a slow runner, a poor fighter, had terrible eyesight that required glasses, you weren’t light on your feet or graceful and you certainly didn’t know much about survival. You were overweight, unfit and unsure on your feet. You were prone to panic and tears, you were easily emotionally and physically unbalanced. Until this trip from hell you’d been content in the inner rim, working a normal job, a safe life. Your day to day had been comfortable, safe. Easy. You weren’t cut out for this, for danger and potential death and had Riddick, this known criminal, one of the most sought after murderers in the verse, not decided to stick by your side you’d have died at least ten times already. It didn’t make any sense and your frustration at yourself, the situation and at him had tears pooling in your eyes. You didn’t ask for any of this.

“I can’t.” He’s so impassive, so calm, that it pisses you off more. It pisses you off how hard it is to read him, how he hides his eyes behind black goggles that stop you understanding him. How he hides all emotion from you so easily. How is he okay with this? How is he so calm when everything around the two of you wants to kill you, when he could have left this goddamn planet already if you weren’t slowing him down at every turn? How could he stand there above the body of some hell spawn creature and just stare at you like that, like everything was just fine, just normal? Like he wasn’t covered in it’s blood. Like you weren’t dripping in your own. Like you hadn’t almost died. Again.

“I..I don’t get it…? What do you mean you can’t? You could walk the fuck away right now. I can’t stop you! No one else is here to stop you! If you want to leave, leave! No one’s holding you back, Riddick! No one is going to stop you! I can’t bloody well can’t! Look at me!” You sound hysterical even to your own ears but you can’t help it. You are so scared, so confused, so frustrated, so panicked by all that’s happened, all that could happen. You gesture down to yourself, to the bloody coating you, the way you protectively hold yourself off of your hurt leg, the sheer stature different between the two of you. All the things that make it very abundantly clear that if he chose to simply walk away you couldn’t stop him.

“Listen, princess, it’s not that fucking simple!” The snap is almost relieving, that he’s not as cold, not as impassive as you thought. That he could break too. That he could be angry, that he could be upset, that this wasn’t just normal. Even as his steps closer cause your back to hunch, cause you to second guess your antagonist behaviour.

“I don’t understand!”

With a growl he’s crowding you against a tree, thick arms caging you in. He’s imposing, large, a head taller than you and the action has him taking over every one of your senses. He never touches you in anger and while the display is intimidating, it oddly enough doesn’t scare you. It almost feels secure. Perhaps because not once has he done anything to suggest to you that he would hurt you, every move he’s made has been to keep you safe. Every time he’s touched you has been to pull you from danger or bring you back to your feet. Despite his harsh appearance, his foul language and the deadliness that he displays at every turn, he has never once given you cause to fear him. To fear how he would treat you.

“You’re my mate, got it?! I don’t get to choose, I don’t get a choice! I can’t leave you! I just fucking can’t, so you’re a fucking liability and dead weight, but you’re my dead weight, got it? I ain’t fucking leaving you, we either both get off this motherfucking planet or we both get eaten by these fucks, princess. There’s no inbetween, understand?” Silver eyes flash at you as he tears the goggles from his eyes, his brow furrows and the muscles in his thick neck and broad shoulders bunch and move with every piece of tension that bursts through him. You are distinctly and sharply reminded that Riddick is a predator in every sense of the word, while you are prey. You are on two separate ends of the spectrum.

“Mate…?” Your eyes flit across the landscape behind his head, trying to process all those words and all their meanings. You don’t understand, you don’t understand any of it. But, those words soothe you in a way you can’t explain. He isn’t going to leave you. For whatever reason, for whatever this is, whatever he means, he isn’t going to leave you. You let out a breath you didn’t even realise you’d been holding. He’s not leaving, even if you’re a liability, a deadweight. Even when things get bad, he’s not leaving. He is, at this point, your only chance at getting home, getting away from him, of surviving. The panic in you begins to soothe, calm and settle.

“We don’t have time for this.” You’re startled by the sudden display of affection as the man cups the back of your neck and presses his forehead into your own, “Just trust me.”

“I do, Riddick, I trust you” It’s hard to explain, the trust you feel for him, the safety as you let him lead you once more through the jungle. You are bleeding, in pain and still ever so aware of the dangers around you, but you have an implicit belief that with Riddick you are as safe as you can be. That if there was ever a person to carry you through this it would be him.

You might still be confused, might not understand what he means by you being his mate or by his obligation towards you, but you know that he isn't leaving you for dead and that is enough right now. That is more than enough.

------------------------------

All Works Taglist

@charradelange @belfry-bat @gabile18 @beccaboo929 @trasheater

#riddick x reader #richard b riddick x reader #chronicles of riddick #richard b riddick #plus size reader #my liability my deadweight #fat reader #readerinsert #reader insert

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sluttbuttsstuff · 3 years ago

Note

Not to spam you but…

Yandere la squada and a darling that’s a little pant-y mess on the occasion that she masturbates and knows a member of the team is home, but upon thinking she’s alone (unaware of her stalker) is masturbating REALLY FUCKING LOUD 🥺 👉👈 sorry if it’s too filthy but this thought will not let me know peace

I do NOT know how to write short pieces; sorry, but that's just not the kind of writer i am. That being said, i had a lot of fun with this, so thanks for the request!

WARNINGS: afab femme reader, Not sfw, dub/con, but reader strongly implied to be okay with everything, voyeurism, sex toys, fingering, blow jobs, intercourse, etc.

Why is it so hard to get some alone time?!...okay, when you’re living with 9 other men, it shouldn’t really come as a surprise to you, but STILL! Well, at least you were able to release some tension, late at night when everyone was too asleep to barge into your room to ask you for something, but you had to stay quiet. God forbid anyone hear the noises you make, so you had to get yourself off quickly and efficiently, without getting to really enjoy yourself. So when this week’s meeting left you free for a day at the base ALONE (even Risotto himself had to be out for a mission, which was rare) you intended to take advantage of it to the fullest.

First: You sang all your favorite songs at the top of your lungs, without fear of anyone hearing you go out of key, or judging you for your taste in music. Then, You took an extra long shower AND bubble bath, effectively using up all the hot water and pampering your skin and hair-which you never had time to when you had to share the bathroom with all the other members. You ate a ton of junk food and ordered delivery all for yourself, and watched all the shows and movies you didn't have the time to before because Formaggio would watch sports games all day.

Finally, you figured now was as good a time as any to....”relax your body”. You were so excited, it had been so long since you’d taken the time to really explore your body while you rubbed one out. You got undresses, rubbing your smooth, moisturized legs together while you turned on one of your favorite pornos on your laptop. You mimicked the motions onscreen, rubbing your neck, your chest, stomach, and finally the lower lips of your pussy. You were already warm and tingling with anticipation, and it didn’t take long for you to get into it. You let yourself moan freely, not saying anything in particular as you clenched around your fingers, lubing yourself up for your toys that were waiting to be used again.

Eventually, the porn ended, but you were just getting started, rocking yourself on your favorite dildo, circling a vibe around your clit and pinching your nipples. It was intense but slow, pleasure raising and declining like gentle hills you rode out. Still, you held off your orgasm for as long as possible, you were having so much fun you didn’t want it to end. You were so invested in the pleasure you were feeling, the rest of the world went away, you didn't even notice the crash of your laptop off the bed.

You were close now, like it or not, so you pushed your body faster and harder than you had in ages, despite the cramps in your wrist and hips. You couldn’t stop your body now, wailing out, tears streaming down your face as you begged yourself for release. Almost there, almost-!!!!

Formaggio: Of course Formaggio was able to finish his hit early- he’s good at his job and doesn’t like carrying things out needlessly! Besides, his favorite team’s playing tonight, he has to hurry home before Prosciutto claims the TV again for an old movie marathon, ughhh. He calls out to you when he arrives home, since he knows you were off this week, but didn’t hear you greet him. You must now have heard him, either, or you wouldn’t be making noises like that. Formaggio cackles to himself-of course you’re getting off, he does the same when he gets the day off too. He likes to do something more exciting than usual though, like leave his door open, or do it in someone else’s room. Yours, for example.

Stifling his own laughter, he uses his stealth skills to sneak into your room. You’re so out of it, you don’t even notice when he opens the door, or your overturned laptop at the foot of your bed. It’s pretty hot, actually, you’re usually more tight-lipped than this, refusing his advances and keeping to yourself when not at work. He likes this side of you a lot more; hair messy, gleaming with sweat, and moaning like a porn star. Yeah baby, let it all out! Formaggio knows he probably shouldn’t, that you’ll kill him afterwards, but Formaggio isn’t exactly a good guy per se so he forces himself on you and grabs the dildo from your hands. You gasp and make an odd, half-choking noise, shocked at Formaggio’s presence and trying to stop moaning in front of him while he fucks you on your toy at double speed.

“Yo, y/n, had a good day today without the guys around? IT’s about to be a lot better, now that I'm here~ why don’t you let me have a turn making you feel good? I’m sure you’re tired from doing this all yourself.” Formaggio teases you, as you struggle to find the words and hide the noises. Finally, you roll your eyes and give up; if Formaggio really wants to help you out so badly, then you’re gonna put him to work. The two of you end up fucking for the rest of the aftenoon and evening, until Proscuitto bangs on your door to keep it down, and even then you have another round or two while giggling.

The two of you are exhausted, but sated, afterwards, and you convince Formaggio to make a run to the fridge to pull out your leftovers, on the condition you share them with him. You spend the rest of the night eating in bed, watching Formaggio’s beloved game on your laptop, and falling asleep. It's an almost perfect end to your day, except for the fact that Formaggio snores louder than a chainsaw.

Illusio: unfortunately, this is not the first time Illusio’s heard (or seen) you masturbate, try as you might to hide it. With a stand like his, you know he not only has the means, but desire to snoop on others. Hell, half the time he doesn’t even mean to spy on others, he just forgets about other’s privacy when he’s in his mirror world. This is, however, the first time you’ve been so vocal, presumably because everyone’s supposed to be out right now. Poor girl, it must be hard to take care of your needs when you’ve got to stare at him all day. He’d be pretty flustered too, with his long chocolate locks and well-toned muscles. Illusio pities you, so he decides he’ll give you the help you clearly need. Jumping from the mirror in the hallway to the one in your bedroom (See? You don’t even cover it up, of course you want him to ravish you!) he watches and listens for a minute at the raunchy display before him. Despite you clearly doing this for quite awhile, judging from the sheen of sweat and heavy breathing, your movements were steady and rhythmic, almost like you’d been edging yourself for a long time. How cute. You must have wanted him to finish the job for you. You’re being very loud however, which Illusio likes, but you’re not saying what he wants to hear. So, he slinks over to you like a ghost, and puts his hand over your mouth to stop you from screaming.

“As much as I love coming home to hear you pleasuring yourself, I think we can do a little better than this. And also-” He kisses the side of your shocked face, “If you’re going to scream something, scream my name.” He picks up where you left off, edging you again and again until you’re so desperate that you beg him to fuck you, and say all the pretty words he wants you to. He fucks you so good you squirt when you come, and makes you come again after he finishes inside of you. It takes you a minute or two to recover, but when you do, and Illusio is bragging about what he did to you, you chase him out of your room with a pillow for being an annoying cocky bastard.

Prosciutto:

Hmmm, well, this is a bit awkward. He knows what the noises mean the minute he first hears them, but isn’t sure how to approach this without embarrassing both of them. If it had been one of the other men, he’d have just slammed their door until they shut up so he didn’t have to listen to their tug session, but Prosciutto prided himself on being a gentleman, and didn’t want to embarrass a lady if he didn’t have to.

He waited about 5 or so minutes, hoping you would wrap up, but when you only got louder and louder he decided enough was enough. After all, god forbid one of the other men hear you-like Illusio or Formaggio. So, steeling himself, he coughed loudly and knocked on your door. You must not have heard him, as your moaning didn’t stop, you were clearly enjoying yourself too much to notice or care about the other men in the base.

Prosciutto huffed, almost offended. Is this what he gets for trying to be polite? Jerking off loudly like a common whore where anyone could walk into you? He tried the doorknob, and was almost disappointed you were careless enough to leave it unlocked. Really, this was all your fault, so when your noises of pleasure turned to shock and embarrassment, he merely chided you for your carelessness, forcing his tongue into your mouth to shut you up while he took over. He took control and instructed you how to properly touch yourself, as well as jerk him off in appreciation for the self-love lesson. He decides to leave it there for the night, as motivation for a reward the next time you’re home alone. So you better work hard on your next missions if you want him to properly fuck you, got it?

Pesci:

Pesci was grateful Prosciutto was willing to finish up the job for him, since it meant he got to go home early. Heck, maybe he could even get a chance to watch one of his documentaries before Formaggio came home and the game started. However, he was growing increasingly concerned about the noises coming from your room. He didn’t want to pry or anything, but you sounded...almost in pain. Sometimes you worked out or did yoga though, and Pesci thought that’s what you were working on, so he decided to leave you be.

However, upon hearing a loud crash, followed by a particularly pained groan, he thought it was best to check in on you. He knocked on your door frantically, but you were unable to answer it. Oh no, maybe you’d hurt yourself so badly you couldn’t even move! Determined to help you, he opened the door, only to see you writhing on the bed, nude and in the midst of an intense self-love session.

Pesci’s mouth opened, and closed, but unlike you, he couldn’t make a sound at the sight before him. It’s true, he harbored a small crush on you, but he had hope he would see you like this under better circumstances. He wasn’t sure what to do, he knew the right thing was to close the door and pretend like this never happened, but you seemed desperately in need of help, not to mention Pesci’s pants were tented with his own sudden but no less intense arousal.

Thinking back to advice Prosciutto had given him about manning up and taking what he wanted from life, he creeps up to your still unaware body, crouching onto your bed with a squeak of the bed springs. This is enough to break you from your trance, and you jolt up, looking at Pesci in shock and embarrassment. Pesci shushes you before you can say a word, pushing a trembling, clammy finger to your lips.

“Please...Let me help you y/n,” He begs you, looking you in the eyes with more courage and bravery than you’d seen from the man since you first met him. Still wet and horny, and body growing tired, you lick his finger, earning an adorable squeak from Pesci; this is going much better than he thought it would. You pull him on top of you, and show him what to do.

What Pesci lacks in experience he makes up for in quick-learning and a massive cock with a short refractory period. You move his hands for him across your body, bringing yourself to climax finally, and return the favor with a blowjob. Pesci doesn’t last long, but he’s hard again very quickly, which you decide to use to your advantage. You ride him again and again, Pesci doing everything you tell him to, and making sure you come as many times as he does. He comes everywhere, inside you and out and on your chest, and makes quite the mess of you.

IT doesn’t stop him from pulling you into a passionate kiss and spooning when you’re both sated, mumbling his thanks and sweet compliments about you. You end up sleeping together that night, and in the morning the men tease him half to death about it, but you can tell Prosciutto's proud of him.

Melone:

Oh, he’s been WAITING for this day since you first joined the team, and now that it’s finally happening he can hardly believe it’s real. First he Manages to reactivate the babyface from today’s mission to grab his camera and record everything. Then, he grabs his chest of toys from his room to help you out. He has a hard time not just jumping in and screwing you into your mattress, but like everything in Melone’s life, he has a plan for this, and he intends to follow through with it. After getting a minute or two of just your moans recorded (just in case his “mission” is unsuccessful, at least he’ll have fap material for later, he decides to make himself known.

“You know, y/n, your arm’s are going to get worn out like that before you’re able to climax if you keep this up.” Melone chided you, sitting on your vanity stool, head in his hands like he wasn’t just watching you touch yourself. You scream, out of shock and anger this time, trying to cover yourself and yell at him to get out. Melone’s incredibly stubborn however, and the tongue of a snake, and is able to persuade you into letting him stay, be it from charm, blackmail, or perhaps tapping into your own dark desires.

He starts by merely watching you, taking pictures with his phone and directing babyface on angles to take video. He instructs you on how to touch yourself, and gives you free range on his collection of toys. It all feels good, and you are able to come, but you’re still unsatisfied, to your disappointment. As if knowing this would be the result all along, Melone plays dumb and makes YOU beg him to touch and fuck you.

Once you finally give in, though, he’s much nicer to you, and to no one’s surprise is an excellent lover. He licks your pussy until you come again, and then finger fucks you once more for good measure, before pulling out his copy of the Kama Sutra. He lets you pick out your favorite positions, as well as a few he thinks will give you the most pleasure, and you tire yourself out.

Ghiaccio:

Ghiacchio does NOT want to deal with your loud noises right now, and he ESPECIALLY doesn’t want to deal with the “problem” it’s caused him personally. He breaks your door down, fully intending to chew you out for being so….”distracting” but ironically enough, Ghiacchio freezes when he sees you. He doesn’t have the most experience with dating, especially not with women (I imagine what limited experience he has was with other passione members *cough* Melone *cough*) so seeing you fully bare in front of him is a lot.

The noises you made haven’t helped either, halfway pained and desperate, it makes Ghiaccio oddly jealous; he wants to be the one that makes you make those noises. So before you can chase him out, or cover yourself, he tackles you on the bed, sloppily kissing and touching you. He’s rough, as you could have probably guessed, but also weirdly shy and gentle? For example, he fingers you so roughly and quickly you cum squirting within minutes, but he’s looking you in the eyes the entire time and gaging your expressions/reactions. He’s got a giant blush on his face, almost like he’s ashamed of doing this, but then bites your shoulder while he spears himself inside of you with a snarl.

Good news: you are no longer the loudest one in the house, Ghiacchio progressively growling then shouting the closer he is to climax. He jackhammers you with incredible speed, and bends your body in half to suit his own purposes. It takes him a couple rounds until he’s fully sated, but then he gets really soft afterwards. He likes to spoon you from behind so you don’t see his face, but he holds you gently, rubbing your shoulders where he nipped you, and soothing your sore muscles.

Risotto:

Let’s be honest: this isn’t his first time hearing you masterbate, he’s heard everyone in the base do it at least once. Hell, he’s even walked in on Melone a dozen times, once with Ghiacchio, so that’s not the issue. What is the issue, however, is that you’re being so loud and obvious he can’t ignore it. Even putting aside his personal feelings for you (which he isn’t necessarily willing to do) it would be bad if you were keeping yourself pent up like this around the others. You could be distracted on missions and hurt yourself or mess up your hit. Or worse- you could go to the others for sexual relief.

Clearly, you needed help, and it was your capo’s responsibility to help you take care of it, and only him. He turns invisible and sneaks into your room, but he needn’t have tried so hard to be stealthy. You were clearly in your own little world, fucking yourself on your fingers, crying out over the wet squelching of your aching pussy. He touches you lightly, so lightly you barely notice, while he’s still invisible. Sure, Risotto’s more than happy to do this, and he doesn’t care if you or the others know about his feelings, but he’s still a little shy, and unsure how you’ll react.

He’s worried for nothing, however, when you unconsciously rock into his touch, palming your breasts and licking the sweat off your brow. You’re confused about the phantom touches lingering on your body and invisible force rubbing your clit, but too aroused to do anything about it. You merely relax your tired body, letting yourself be finger-fucked into climax, crying out in pleasure-pain from the large, rough hands raking orgasm after orgasm out of your body.

After Risotto’s able to finger you enough to (he hopes) sufficiently stretch you out, he repositions your limp body, fluffing pillows under your head and placing you to face his still invisible body. He rubs the head of his cock against your clit and entrance, collecting as much lubrication onto his cock as he can. At the last minute, Risotto turns himself invisible, and watches the look of surprise and embarrassment turn into red hot need as he bottoms out into your aching, tender pussy.

He doesn’t go easy on you, each thrust hitting the deepest parts of you, forcing squeals out of you every time. You wrap your arms around him, trying to take some sort of control of the situation, but Risotto doesn’t give you an inch as he fucks the daylights out of you. Your moans spur him on, having gone from non-specific mewling to begging for Risotto to go deeper, harder, “more, more, more!” Risotto likes this side of you best, completely under his control and telling him exactly what he’s doing to you.

Far too soon, you orgasm again, already sensitive from your previous orgasms. Risotto isn’t done though, and doesn’t finish for several hours. Even when the others go home, and are tempted to say something, they hear who’s name you’re calling, and think twice before interrupting their capo’s “alone time.” Finally, after finishing, You pass out almost immediately, too exhausted to even clean yourself off. So, Risotto takes care of you, cleaning up your mess, putting some comfy pjs on you, and fetching some water and painkillers (just in case).

When he walks out of your room, the Squad is silent, no one daring to say anything (Ghiacchio and Formaggio are physically restraining Melone from talking). Risotto sees no need to say anything to them either, merely gives them all an unreadable look, before smiling to himself and returning to your room. Tomorrow, he’s going to need to rearrange the schedule; you’ll need some time off to recover.

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peppermintbee · 4 years ago

Text

OMORI’s poor writing (Part 2)

Once again, if you are a big fan of OMORI, this review is not for you. Treasure this game, love it, recommend it, make fan art, buy the merch, do what you will with it. I am not here to take OMORI away from anyone. Based on the overwhelmingly positive reviews on Steam, I know that my opinion is in the minority.

However, just as the fans have the right to praise the game, I have the right to examine it, criticize it, and explain why it failed to provide a compelling experience. This is second part of my review where I will tackle OMORI’s problematic themes and disrespectful appropriation of mental health.

[ See Part 1: Plot Writing Lies ]

(Note: I use “OMORI” in all-caps for the game title, and “Omori” in title case for the character name.)

Spoilers and criticism below.

Part 2: OMORI’s message is mishandled and distasteful

OMORI provides a warning that it depicts scenes of depression, anxiety, and suicide. Because the game includes these scenes, I assumed these mental health issues are presented in a way that is meaningful and respectful.

However, that is not the case.

Despite having depictions of such, this game is not really about depression, anxiety, or even suicide. It’s about committing a horrible crime, lying about it, and getting over the guilt.

1. Suicide as a game mechanic

Suicidal thoughts are intrusive, terrifying, and painful. As well as ending the victim's life, suicide wreaks havoc on the lives of those who once knew them. It is often a taboo topic, but discussing such matters is an important step to understanding and preventing it. Video games are a medium well suited to approaching such dark topics.

Unfortunately, OMORI does not handle the topic of suicide well at all.

First, suicide is written as a unavoidable game mechanic that seems to have been included for shallow reasons such as aesthetic and shock value. To leave Sunny’s headspace and wake up, you--as a player--must direct him to stab himself in the stomach.

But why? It’s not like waking up involves some sort of major sacrifice. In fact, waking up is something that is more or less unavoidable. Reality should be something that snatches Sunny away from his headspace against his will, perhaps as an encroaching darkness that Sunny can run from, but never truly escape. But instead, facing reality is something you are forced to opt into in the most needlessly violent way possible.

Forcing you--as a player--to literally commit suicide just to wake up from a dream is a pointless, distasteful, and disrespectful action that sets a precedent for suicide not being taken seriously in this game. (And it isn’t.)

In the black space, Omori is pressured to kill a cat. In that scene, regardless of your choice, you are forced to kill yourself. However, the act of stabbing yourself has been seen so many times at that point that it has completely lost any impact. Who cares about suicide when it’s been reduced to just a means of travel?

Lastly, if you fail to defeat the final boss, Sunny commits suicide in the real world. However, this is not a cutscene, it is once again something that you--as a player--are forced to do to progress. Putting these actions in the hands of a player is not as meaningful as the writer seems to believe, because there are no other options to progress. Any weight in making that decision is lost to resignation; a frustrated sigh of “Well, okay, fine. I guess I have to click Z here.” You are then rewarded with a SLAPPING pop song and a psychedelic cutscene of Sunny falling to his death. It’s tasteless to its core and appropriates the deaths of every suicidal person as a quirky, shallow “bad end.”

(Seriously, this is how the writer decided to depict a child taking his own life.)

youtube

2. Sunny/Omori is a poor presentation of depression

Sunny/Omori does not smile. Even in past photographs before The Incident, he still is not smiling. The contrast between Sunny and his friends stands out like a sore thumb, so I assumed this was the writer’s attempt to show that Sunny is dealing with depression, where he can’t be happy even in happy situations.

Of course, if that were the case it would be inaccurate since depressed people do smile and do hide their true feelings. They are often dismissed with, “You can’t be depressed, I saw you smiling once.” However, I was willing to let Sunny’s chronic frown slide because sometimes you have to oversimplify an idea to get your point across.

Much to my surprise, there is NO evidence of Sunny having depression before The Incident and there is very little indication of him having depression throughout the game either. The evidence of this is that while looking at a family portrait, Sunny comments that he's never liked to smile. Since he's a a baby in this portrait, this goes to show that his not smiling is simply a preference -- a quirky character trait that makes him stand out so that you feel an emotion during the true ending when he finally smiles.

Everything in the game seems to point to him being pretty happy and well adjusted up until he killed Mari. Then, even after he killed Mari, he pretty much looks and behaves the same way. Wouldn’t it be more jarring and tragic if you saw Sunny was happy in the past, but depressed now?

Which leads me to my next point...

3. Sunny and Basil are not depressed, they’re guilty (and for good reason)

In the book I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn’t), Brené Brown explains the difference between feeling guilt and shame.

Guilt means: “I did something bad.” Shame means: “I am something bad.”

Guilt, when attributed to bad behavior, is actually a healthy emotion. It means that you have a sense of right and wrong, that you empathize with those you’ve hurt, and it motivates you to make things right.

Shame is an unhealthy emotion. It arrests growth, destroys self-esteem, causes poor decision making, isolates you from your loved ones, and is directly correlated with anxiety and depression.

OMORI should be a game about overcoming shame. All the right set pieces are there. Sunny’s walled himself off, his sister (allegedly) committed suicide, and he seems to be struggling with lifelong depression. However, this all falls apart, when it’s revealed that he killed his sister and staged her death as a suicide to escape blame (with Basil’s help). He DID do something bad. It’s not shame, it’s literally guilt.

All at once, OMORI stops being a game about recovering from grief and depression and becomes a game that demands the player to sympathize with a killer and liar who is hiding from his crimes. Because he and Basil feel bad about what they did, Sunny and Basil are presented as greater victims than their actual victim.

4. OMORI asks you empathize with villains (with ZERO self awareness)

Games where you are playing a character with a guilty conscience has been told before, but where OMORI really fails is that Sunny is not truly held accountable for what he did to others. Instead, the game focuses on HIS pain: since killing his sister he’s been isolated, he’s having nightmares, and he’s suicidal.

The plot of the game is focused on helping Sunny forgive himself for ruining other people’s lives. The writing barely acknowledges how his friends/family feel about what he did. When his victims’ pain IS addressed, it’s either used to further victimize Sunny (ie: isn’t it sad for him that he made his friends so sad?) or it’s used to reassure the player that Sunny’s victims have forgiven him (or will forgive him).

In fact, the game holds Mari responsible for her own death, citing that her "perfectionism" must have been what pushed Sunny to attack her. OMORI presents Mari, through headspace, as someone who accepted death gracefully and wants Sunny to live a happy life. She is never given her own voice and nothing in the game suggests she is capable of feeling bitter over her death and postmortem desecration. She plays the role of the Madonna archetype--and the perfect victim--allowing the player to empathize entirely with Sunny while accepting that Mari brought everything on herself.

[Mari suggesting that Sunny acting out his aggression on her was her fault.]

The climax of this game is NOT Sunny telling the truth to his friends. The climax is Sunny defeating his guilt and forgiving himself. We know this because the story does not even show how his friends respond to his confession, because-- once again-- what’s most important thing is resolving Sunny’s pain, not the pain he has caused others. (Though the game does heavily imply that his friends will forgive him.)

[Pictured: the boys shedding their guilt is the true happy ending ]

Imagine, for a moment, if this game was about an abuser, who caused immense pain to someone and got away with it. Then, the whole game was about how they felt bad for the abuse they caused, and-- as a player-- you help them forgive THEMSELF for their past abuse. Then, in the last few seconds of the game, they either apologize to their victim or kill themself. The victim’s response is not shown because it is not important.

This is the plot of OMORI, except with a bunch of excuses thrown on top to make it more palatable. Sunny and Basil are just soooo cute and sad. Killing Mari was an accident. Stringing her body up like a piñata was a juvenile mistake. The boys feel SO BAD that they want to kill themselves. And because suicide is so tragic, you-- as an audience-- are manipulated into empathizing them.

5. In OMORI, suicide is used as a cheap ploy for sympathy

As I mentioned before, suicide is horrible and tragic. People struggling with suicidal ideation need help, support, and respect. That said, let’s make one thing clear: being suicidal does not automatically make someone a good person. There are plenty of examples of criminals who kill themselves to escape the penalty or guilt for something they did. It is so common in the news that I don’t think I have to list out examples.

In bad endings, Sunny and Basil’s suicides are 100% motivated by guilt for their very real crimes. Now, it should be stated, Sunny and Basil do not deserve to die. And because suicide is such an extreme, permanent end for those two boys, we-- as players-- are invested in preventing that tragic end at all costs.

However, the looming threat of suicide is used as leverage to force the audience to dismiss the severity of what Sunny and Basil did. As I’ve said before, the plot of the game is about soothing and alleviating Sunny’s guilt and stopping him from killing himself as opposed to making things right.

The worst thing is, this tactic actually works. The threat of suicide is so strong, it has distracted many players from the truth that this story is about sympathizing with a boy who has killed his sister, with little regard for those his actions have affected (see point #4).

It’s terrible because suicide is such a serious topic worthy of discussion, but when used as little more than pity-bait, it twists your perception of what the characters did and silences those who try to criticize how this game handles such topics.

6. Mari's suicide being fake is a terrible twist

Lastly, by revealing Mari’s “suicide” as an accidental death, OMORI misses an opportunity to tell a much more powerful story. In the first half of this game, when Mari is thought to have committed suicide at the young age of 15, is a sobering moment. That tragedy is something very real.

If Mari had killed herself as opposed to being killed, Sunny isolating himself after his sister takes her own life is realistic. Mari’s death coming as a surprise is also realistic; how often have we heard people saying that they never knew someone was suffering? That they seemed like such a happy person?

Losing a loved one to suicide does not just cause horrible grief, but crippling shame as well. Those left behind will blame themselves, tormented by thoughts of how they could have saved them, how they would do anything to get them back. That shame can follow you forever, haunting you like a ghost, threatening you with the same fate. Overcoming that grief and shame is no simple task, and I truly thought OMORI was going to be about grappling with grief and letting go of survivor guilt.

Instead, Mari didn’t commit suicide, her life was cut short by her brother. Then, her body was staged as a suicide, forever changing how her family and friends perceived her. Her hanging body did not represent a devastating loss of life and horror of teen depression, but instead is a cheap twist that represents Sunny’s guilt for killing her and tampering with her corpse.

Conclusion:

As I’ve mentioned before OMORI has a lot of potential. The set pieces of a depressed kid who escapes to a dream world to cope with his unresolved trauma is one that had the makings to be very meaningful. However, it fumbles these issues, creating a sloppy plot that results in a problematic message. It’s baffling that this even happened, especially considering the length of time this was in development.

#omori #omori hate #review #words #the more I analyze it the worse this game gets #suicide cw #omori spoilers

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trashyeggroll · 3 years ago

Note

New Amsterdam is definitely more stable than Shondaland. Leyla would have already found out, decided to forgive Lauren but slipped on the stairs and died before she could find her, if this was that show. And all this would’ve happened at the hospital, because Grey Sloan is actually grave lol. But anyway, how do you think the bribe will come out? I’m weirdly excited to see how it unfolds but scared Lauren will end up relapsing or alone and heartbroken again. Or both.

The first part of this about what would happen in Shondaland is possibly the funniest thing anyone has ever sent to me 🤣 You know the entire scene would be in slo mo too with no dialogue, just an Olivia Rodrigo acoustic cover song playing over it 🤣

But regarding the Impending Reveal…… I actually seemed to have made myself completely forget that that happened until I was reading a post on here a few weeks ago ☹️ Avoidance is my specialty. Also I’m just pretty bad about remembering canon looool

Anyway I am really struggling with the power dynamic issue that comes up with the bribe, AND I think I need more character development for Leyla from the writers. This is a character that keeps almost off-handedly referencing background details that potentially come with some severe trauma (still wish Lauren hadn’t made that comment about war-torn Kashmir and hellfire…) that doesn’t much play into any of the conflicts we’ve seen her deal with so far, except in positive ways, which is fine, but gives me an impartial sense of who Leyla is during moments of crisis (not as Dr. Shinwari).

What I would like to see happen: Lauren tells Leyla without being forced to, and although Leyla is upset and embarrassed, she also understands that the issue wasn’t related to her skills like a college admissions scandal, it was her immigration status, and that’s not Lauren’s fault OR her fault… so they can work it out 🥺

What I think is gonna happen: Lauren tells Leyla because she’s about to find out somehow, and Leyla’s horror is mostly based in the lie. Lauren’s supposed to work the program and be completely honest with her, and this is a red flag that maybe Lauren isn’t as solid in her recovery as they thought. Leyla feels that the bribe makes her seem like a kept plaything for Lauren and moves out of the apartment. Cue season finale 😭

#asks #leyren #new amsterdam #leyla shinwari #lauren bloom

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shrinkyclinksfest · 3 years ago

Text

That's a wrap!

Thank you all so much for another successful run of Shrinkyclinks Fest! Altogether the works add up to 150K words of new Shrinkyclinks content and six new artworks! We want to thank all our wonderful writers, artists, promoters, promoters, readers, and supporters. We will see you all next year!

Without further ado, the Masterlist:

Title: Nazi Punks Fuck Off [Shrinkyclinks AU] Creator: bleedxblack Medium (fic, art, podfic, etc.): digital art Rating: G Prompt #: 22 Warnings: N/A Summary: Local punk Steve Rogers goes to see his hardcore vocalist boyfriend, Bucky, perform with his band, Widow. Friend and guitarist Natasha took the first photo of them after the band had finished their set. Steve took the following photo himself while he watched his friends and lover play on stage.

Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33271081

Title: Steve has hot guy problems Creator: HeyBoy Medium (fic, art, podfic, etc.): digital art Rating: T Prompt #: 33 Warnings: N/A Summary: For the ShrinkyClinks Fest prompt: Meet-cute at the gym! Smol Steve is determined to work on his cardio and fitness. He reluctantly goes to the gym, feeling intimidated but ready to spit fire at anyone who so much as looks at him twice. He is going to get a good workout, damnit. Ignore the clunkheads. Ignore the gym rats. Ignore the super hot guy with long hair and stormy eyes who always seems to be using the equipment near Steve. That wasn't so bad! Now we can shower and go home. Wait, hot guy is also in the shower and… he's singing. WAIT hot guy just exited the shower and now he knows that I know he was singing!.

Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33271468

Title: asthma attacks, fire escapes, and chai Creator: beemotionpicture Medium: fic Rating: gen Wordcount: 6,657 Prompt #: 9 Warnings: none Summary: It happens because of his asthma of all things.

As soon as he feels short of breath he starts rooting through his messenger bag for his inhaler. Steve has a moment to think aha!and then fuck,before he’s losing his grip on the thing and it’s skidding across the pavement and into an alleyway.

He freezes when he realizes he’s not alone.

Steve hears a muffled sound coming from behind the dumpster, but that’s not what makes him look; no, it’s the metallic scent in the air which, with a creeping feeling of dread, he hopes isn’t blood. He looks. It’s blood.

And there’s a man sitting right in a puddle of it, leaning heavily against the brick wall and clutching his side with a metal hand.

How Steve finds an injured Bucky, nurses him back to health, and takes down a HYDRA agent while he’s at it. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33272239

Title: Highway Ghost Creator: Neonbat Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 15820 Prompt #: 31 Warnings: Usual WS Bucky warnings Summary: Steve hated long drives, it was too easy to zone out, especially when you’re full of cook-out food and good times. Having someone fall out of nowhere right in front of his car wasn’t exactly something he’d ever consider a possibility. He had enough excitement already from his job as an ER Nurse. Except, where most people would have been laid out on the asphalt, the man dressed in black got up without a scratch and insisted medical care wasn’t needed. The fuck was his life? Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33283738

Title: He "Accidently" Picked A Hot Roommate Creator: rufferto Medium: digital art Rating: G Prompt #: 48 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve needs a roommate. He thinks he will never find one but then he meets Winter Soldier Bucky who needs a place to stay while he recovers. Steve offers him the room immediately and it turns out Bucky is a great roommate. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33279370

Title: special delivery Creator: @glim / glim Medium: fic Rating: Teen + Wordcount: ~6,000 words Prompt #: 30 Warnings: n/a Summary: Written for shrinkyclinksfest, Prompt #30: Steve Rogers has always been prone to sickness, but summer colds are the absolute worst. What he wants is a huge bowl of chicken noodle soup and some ice cream. What he gets is a food delivery guy who’s so built and hot Steve chokes on his tongue. That’s why he keeps ordering long after he’s recovered and how he finally gets Bucky Barnes into his apartment and his bed. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33343828

Title: When the Pool Closes Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Fic Rating: T Wordcount : 1858 Prompt #: 36 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve just wants to enjoy a day out in the sun by himself. That’s not too much to ask. Except it is, apparently. With such fair skin, sunscreen is a must, and there’s no way he can reach his entire back. He’s just going to have to find someone to help him apply it, and if the guy is ripped… Well, it’s not Steve’s fault that he’s got good taste. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33341596

Title: To the Future and the Past Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Fic Rating: T Wordcount : 1465 Prompt #: 40 Warnings: Major character death Summary: Maybe a funeral isn’t the right time to admit to a gay love story, but Bucky doesn’t care. That’s what Steve wanted, and Bucky’s never been able to say no to the love of his life. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33358726

Title: A Shot Across The Bow Creator: Author: Becassine Artist: Call_me_kayyyyy Art Rating: G Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 18382 Prompt #: 52 Warnings: Blood/Injury, Implied/Reference Abuse, Reference Slave Trade Summary: Bucky Barnes is a Pirate Captain, and one accustomed to getting his own way. When fate drops Steve Rogers in his path one lonely evening in Tortuga, his life is forever turned upside down. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33265450/chapters/82597747

Title: Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet Creator: Girl_Back_There Medium: Fic Rating: Mature Wordcount: 6214 Prompt #: 45 Warnings: Some Homophobic Language, Instances of Sexual Harassment against women Summary:Bucky doesn’t know how his mother managed to Jedi mind trick him into dropping off Becca at summer camp this year, but she somehow did it. Despite his grumpiness at the unreasonable hour in which he was wrenched from his nice and cozy bed, Bucky is glad for this time with his little sister. Becca spends their time talking about the activities she got to do last summer that she hopes will be back again this year, all of which was organized by Steve Rogers. After she came home from Camp Marvel last year, all Becca could talk about was Steve Rogers, one of the counselors for her team, The Howlies. Steve Rogers was an amazing artist. Steve Rogers participates in all of the competitions despite his asthma, scoliosis, heart arrhythmia, and various other medical issues. Steve Rogers totally drinks his respect women juice. Bucky would be worried about his sister may be developing a crush on this Steve guy, but after meeting him, Bucky is more preoccupied with the crush he's developing on Steve. So preoccupied in fact, he ends up signing on to be a camp counselor for the summer. Link to work:https://archiveofourown.org/works/33339220

Title: The Way To A Man’s Heart Creator: Author: HaniTrash Artist: Kocuria_visuals Art Rating: T Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 11852 Prompt #: 53 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve Rogers, skinny Brooklynite, is a college student who makes old recipes and posts videos of them on tiktok. When Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier and Avenger, sees one, he's instantly hooked and becomes Steve's biggest fan. What follows next is a story of food, flirting, and a very unlikely pairing. But much like Steve’s unusual recipes, what shouldn’t work often does… Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33312223/chapters/82722664#workskin

Title: Maybe A Muse Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Medium (fic, art, podfic, etc.): fic Rating: M Wordcount: 2871 Prompt #: 28 Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Summary: When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33393928

Title: Be My Breath Creator: Goosenik and clarkestetler Medium: Fic Rating: Teen and Up Wordcount: 44,575 Prompt #: 48 Warnings: N/A Summary: For the Shrinkyclinks Fest 2021 prompt: Steve needs a roommate. He thinks he will never find one but then he meets Winter Soldier Bucky who needs a place to stay while he recovers. Steve offers him the room immediately and it turns out Bucky is a great roommate.

Basically: Bucky moves in with Steve after he escapes from Hydra, and Steve begins the long process of helping Bucky remember how to be human again. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33275848/chapters/82626394

Title: Tap-Tap Into Your Heart Creator: huntress79 Medium: Fic Rating: T Wordcount: 5k Prompt #: 6 Warnings: none, except for one blink-and-you’ll-miss-it mention of animal death Summary: When HYDRA finally fell, the Soldier was lost, in more than one meaning. And for the next several months, he, more or less, drifted from one former safehouse to the other, always avoiding to stay too long in one place. Until he comes to Brooklyn - and finds a new purpose, again in more than one meaning… Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33416524

Title: I'd be selfish but never with you Creator: Lacunalady on Ao3 Medium: Fic Rating: E Wordcount: 20k Prompt #: 32 Warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Prompted with: "Arranged marriage AU. Steve is a prince and Bucky is a newly crowned king of the neighboring country having conquered/overtaken the last ruler. In order to keep the peace between their countries, Steve's father decides for them to wed. Steve is reluctant for several reasons but mainly because he wants to marry for love and the fact that Bucky has a reputation for being exceedingly ruthless in battle (aka the winter solider)" by Bangyababy on Tumblr! Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33424936

Title: Just Peachy Creator: Erosanderis Fic Rating: N/A Wordcount : 1266 Prompt #: 34 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve Rogers was not looking forward to meeting his soulmate. Ever since the day he was born, he had the worst possible words on his forearm. So of course he would meet them at work. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33412060

Title: Knocking Boots with Sugar Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 4095 Prompt #: 29 Warnings: N/A Summary: In between summers at college, Steve Rogers wants a new adventure beyond his lonely life in Brooklyn. He ends up in West Texas working on a dude ranch where Bucky Barnes is a long-time employee. When Bucky offers to buy Steve a drink, they end up drunk on tequila and making out in public. For the rest of the summer, they're inseparable. As the summer draws to a close, Steve realizes he doesn't want to leave. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33499603

#shrinkyclinks fest 2021 #masterpost 2021 #shrinkyclinks #stucky #stucky fic #stucky fanart

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miraculouscontent · 4 years ago

Text

Didn’t Need Burrow (April 17th-23rd)

Anonymous said:

Didn't need Burrow: "Gabriel Agreste" will be all about how he's not really evil just misunderstood. He had a lonely childhood or some garbage and we should feel totally sad for him you guys.

Just throw the man in jail and move on, PLEASE.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chloé will be jealous of Zoe and throws a temper tantrum. Bonus points if the show blames Maribug for giving Chloé the Bee Miraculous in the first place.

[flashbacks to “Malediktator” where Adrien “the perfect high road boy” made the comment about Chloe that encouraged Marinette to give her the bee in the first place, something they will very likely never address]

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Gabriel and Nathalie will have last-minute redemptions because "fAmiLy".

Aaaaand now I’m having Voltron flashbacks...

and Steven Universe flashbacks...

You know what, just most recent shows that have a villain related by family ties in some way.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Zoe and other new characters are Romantic Rhombus shippers/stans. (love square synonyms anon here; glad to know you liked them.)

I HATE IT

SOMEONE HAVE A UNIQUE OPINION, I’M BEGGING.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Luka and Kagami get new love interests. Bonus points if this is used to make their exes jealous.

Double bonus if the one paired with Luka is either terrible person/isn’t like Marinette at all, or is just “objectively better” than Marinette.

Anonymous said:

Didn't need burrow to know that there'll be an episode where Alya tries to help Marinette out with all the Ladybug things and Marinette is gonna get pissed because she's helping to much and possibly the kwamis like Alya more than her. Alya won't be akumatized, but Marinette's gonna learn a lesson about trusting her friends and not being so controlling because Marinette will have to trust Alya to give a miraculous to someone.

Anonymous said:

Didn't need burrow: that Alya knowing Marinette is Ladybug and thus Lila being a liar isn't going to come up except for one episode and then never be mentioned again.

If they don’t address it in the very next episode I s2g--

Anonymous said:

Didn't need the Burrow: The season's finale will feature Shadow Moth empowered by Catalyst. He will have the most ridiculous name and outfit. Bonus: His grand plan fails mostly due to his owns stupidity

I’m only looking forward to the stupidity and nothing else.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will ultimately betray Marinette's confidence in order to prove that Marinette was wrong to trust her with her secret identity instead of Chat Noir.

The building blocks are already there, let’s be honest.

Bonus if Astruc acts as if Alya was “the best choice” and then cut to Alya’s betrayal (whether accidental or intentional) and he’ll act as if the writing is so clever.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Since Hawkmoth already knows Alya is Rena Rouge, Marinette will try giving her a different Miraculous to try throwing him off. This only serves to make Trixx jealous and cause friction between the kwami which is all blamed on Marinette.

Okay, the idea would be plausible if it weren’t for the fact that this would mean making new models.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: The writers will steal another common fan concept by having Marinette entrust Nino with the Miracle Box. Su-Han will be upset at first, but accept Nino as a suitable candidate (possibly implying that he's better at it because, as a guy, he's not 'ruled by his emotions' like Marinette and proves better at keeping the kwami in line. Somehow).

It’s genius! His parents and other relatives don’t even exists outside of Chris, who only exists when it’s to torment Marinette when she has to babysit him!

There’s no one to find the box!! (except Alya, who Su-Han will be fine with knowing because he trusts Nino’s judgment)

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will continue to push the pro-Adrien agenda down Marinette's throat, over any and all protests that she can't have a romantic relationship with ANYONE right now due to her various responsibilities. Alya will give lip-service to the idea that she'll help her with everything else, but in practice, her only real priority is shoving her towards Adrien every chance she gets and continuing her scheming to get them together.

The illusion of caring.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will wind up STEALING the Fox Miraculous from Marinette in order to become Rena Rouge again. This will be presented as entirely Marinette's fault, with Mari forced to apologize to HER for not 'trusting her more', despite Alya's actions throwing her trustworthiness into question.

“Bonus” if Marinette had trusted Alya with the code to open the Miracle Box’s compartment, yet sure, she needs to trust Alya “more,” okay.

differenttriumphdragon said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will still believe Lila at some point even though she now knows Marinette has a good reason not to trust her.

And this will not be portrayed as Alya’s fault but rather “Lila’s.” She’s just “too clever,” you guys!!

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will continue trusting Lila, accusing Marinette of lying about not being friends with her as Ladybug and insisting that she needs to 'give her a chance' as Marinette rather than letting jealousy get the better of her.

The thought alone makes my blood boil sjgnjdfjgnfdg

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: The matter of how Alya refused to listen to any of Marinette's warnings about Lila will be glossed over with Alya making some lightly teasing remark about how 'You could have cleared this all up sooner if you'd just been honest with me, girl~'

Thus furthering the narrative that Marinette telling someone about her being Ladybug was “a choice.”

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will make a 'triumphant callback' to her remark in "Chameleon" about how journalists always check their sources. Referring, naturally, to how she now knows the truth from Ladybug herself... while completely ignoring how she dismissed all of Marinette's warnings before and refused to do any of her own research. Somebody will add this to ML's 'Crowning Moment of Awesome' page, praising it as an incredibly cool and well-earned moment of catharsis.

ugh

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Now that she knows Marinette = Ladybug, Alya will accuse her of two-timing Adrien with Chat Noir. She will refuse to believe any of Mari's insistence that she's NOT 'stringing Chat along'. Meanwhile we'll get more Sadrien as he mopes over LB continuing to deny their love.

“Bonus” if the fandom praises Alya for finally “calling Marinette out” because “Ladybug has never properly denied Chat Noir.” (but they’ll also deny that she should’ve done it more bluntly because “that would’ve hurt his feelings”)

[meanwhile, “Prime Queen” was a thing that happened and was publicly recorded]

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Upon realizing Lila deceived her, Alya will get PISSED. ...Not over anything she did to Marinette, but because she tricked her into posting false information on the Ladyblog. Other than snapping at Mari for 'not warning me', or scolding her if she starts complaining and 'trying to make it all about you', she won't acknowledge what her bEsT fRiEnD went through at all.

I--

...oh my gosh, I hate how plausible this sounds.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Hawkmoth will inexplicitly delay going after the families of the exposed superheroes until the writers can frame it as Marinette's fault. This likely involves Mari being forced to babysit Chris and/or the twins, and having to take them on an outing since she can't have them at the bakery due to the kwami. Cue akumatized kids/hostage situation, Nino/Alya angst and Mari being lambasted for her failures.

Kids, Marinette babysitting, and Marinette being blamed??

Wow, it’s like all the things I hate rolled into one convenient little package!

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will use the fact that she knows Marinette's biggest secret to justify being even more invasive, insisting that she already knows Mari better than she knows herself.

“wE cAn tAlk wHerE aNd wHeN yOu wAnT”

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Despite how their secret identities were exposed, Marinette will be pressured by both Alya and the kwamis to give her friends 'their' Miraculi back and give new Miraculi to other classmates. Her fears about this will be presented as unreasonable... until they come to pass in later episodes, at which point she'll be blamed for 'letting this happen'.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will pressure Marinette to trust the rest of the girl squad with Miraculi, with Mari taking the blame for anything and everything that goes wrong in the process.

*long, deep sigh*

Alternatively, Alya will pressure Marinette into giving miraculouses to already-revealed heroes (Rena I could at least see being excused due to being a long-distance fighter who can create illusions from a distance, but Carapace? lol no).

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: The exposed superheroes will get magical makeovers to let them 'start fresh' and throw Hawkmoth off their trail. These new designs will be HEAVILY whitewashed, using the weak 'justification' that this will help hide their identities. Think Shanghai Special levels of appearance-shifting. Bonus points if Chat Noir tells the transformed Alya and Kagami they look prettier now.

I already hate it.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya is against Lila because she knows Marinette is Ladybug (not because she [Alya] trusts her).

Yyyyyup.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: The Ladybug reveal to Alya is used for shipping purposes.

Well obviously!! Who else was going to comment on the oh-so-coveted LadyNoir???

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow to know that Alya will still believe Lila's lies, despite her knowing that Marinette is Ladybug now

Anonymous said:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Alya is still gonna be on Lila’s side despite now knowing Marinette is Ladybug.

Part of me wants to say, “No, they wouldn’t be that stupid,” but...

yeah...

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: There will be an episode where Marinette has to learn to respect the privacy and boundaries of others. Likely candidates for the recipient of her pesky prying are Juleka (because 'Friends don't keep secrets!' only applies to Mari), Adrien (because haha stalker) or another guy-'friend' like Nino (because guys are entitled to their privacy in ways girls are not). Alya will lecture Mari on being 'too nosy' and insist that SHE would NEVER go so far and knows to give others space.

THE HYPOCRISY!!!

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya doesn't believe Marinette, assuming that she's lying to her about being Ladybug. The scene of the kwami surrounding them was an end-of-episode fake-out and didn't actually happen/she didn't see them. Marinette is berated for spilling her secrets so 'easily'.

fdjkgdfjkgdfg okay but would we roll with that or nah considering at least that’d mean that Alya doesn’t technically know then??

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Jagged Stone's relationship with Marinette will sour since she broke his son's heart. Never mind that he's been a deadbeat dad for years; clearly HER slight against Luka is far worse, and he has every right to condemn and judge her for it.

Jagged, I swear, I want to keep liking you, don’t do this.

Especially because then it’s gonna seem like they made Jagged the dad just so he’d have some reason to be against Marinette, taking away yet another person who was on Marinette’s side.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien's antics will escalate to the point where he is openly and brazenly sacrificing others for the sake of his 'hilarious antics', such as getting them hit by akuma powers to pun off their plight. Ladybug gets blamed for failing to protect them.

Ladybug and Chat Noir are “equals” until Chat needs to be blamed for something, in which case Ladybug will take the heat.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: In a moment of jealousy, Adrien will sacrifice somebody else in the name of his own ego. Such as outing another hero, bringing an already outed heroes' loved ones to Shadow Moth's attention, getting more kwami caught by the villains... Naturally, Marinette gets all the blame and all the guilt from the fallout.

Of course!! Who else could possibly be blamed???

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: In a cliffhanger, Chat Noir needlessly sacrifices himself only for Shadowmoth to recall the akuma before Ladybug can purify it/do something else that leaves Chat Noir in limbo. Much angst and drama is mined from Ladybug's failure to save him; the fact he effectively did this to himself is never acknowledged.

Okay, that IS sad for Ladybug but would we honestly complain about Chat being stuck in limbo?

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: In a 'Shocking Twist', Hawkmoth's connection to *Chat Noir* will be revealed, causing Ladybug to flash back through all their interactions and question whether Chat Noir was ever TRULY on their side. Her moment of doubt will be treated as completely unreasonable and unfair, with Adrien stung deeply by her 'betrayal' and failure to 'trust in their love'.

all of my hate--

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette's anxiety will be depicted as the *cause* of said anxiety -- in other words, she'll be told that she's making mountains out of molehills and 'worrying over nothing'. Most likely by the very ones responsible for making her so anxious in the first place, treating problems *they caused* as a 'you problem'.

Don’t you guys know? Anxiety is always caused by the person having anxiety!

Trauma?? Root causes? What are those?

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette will be forced to pass Guardianship to somebody else, but will NOT have to wipe her memories in the process. This is treated as a 'learning experience' with Marinette having to live with the knowledge that she simply wasn't up to snuff, with somebody else having to 'pick up her slack' and take over the responsibilities that she 'just couldn't handle'.

I still say the worst part of all this is that I - someone who hates memory loss plots - am half-hoping for her memories to be wiped just to free her from this hellscape.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Somebody else will take over as Guardian, and Tikki will guilt-trip Marinette for not being able to handle the responsibility on her own. Sighing about how nice and lively it was with the other kwamis around, and how quiet it is now that they're staying elsewhere, wistful about the 'good times' they had while failing to acknowledge how much of their excitement and enjoyment came at Mari's expense.

And just casually forgetting that Marinette’s own privacy was invaded by the kwami being around, but sure, their comfort was so much more important.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: During a battle, Marinette/Ladybug will have to sacrifice herself/APPEAR to sacrifice herself in a way reminiscent of Chat Noir's usual self-sacrifices. This will be absolutely necessary to create the opening they needed to win, but will be treated as senseless and unneeded. Everyone will berate her for it, especially Chat - and if she points out his own tendencies, he'll accuse her of pulling that stunt just to 'teach him a lesson' and punish him for being heroic.

*screams from a distance*

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Juleka doesn't get any dialogue outside of mumbling in her hero debut episode.

I’m half-expecting Juleka to be totally mumbly until a future Couffaine-centric episode where they’ll treat her talking as if it’s a huge deal.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: The show would end on a vague note. We don't know if the Love Square got together (they had a finale kiss and a confession.) We don't know what will happen to the rest of the plotlines, characters, and miraculouses.

We also don’t know when we’ll get the time we lost back.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien switches sides after learning his father's motives, and is treated as 100% in the right for doing so. Marinette keeps fighting, and is blamed for everything Hawk/Shadowmoth does in his efforts to win.

“See, Marinette??? You didn’t aPpReCiAtE Chat enough!!!”

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: In a 'Very Special Episode' of ML, somebody else gets to learn a lesson. It's Luka, who starts a new relationship with somebody else. It's shown that he learned from his mistakes with Marinette, and is more assertive and straightforward about his desires, and much happier for it. Meanwhile, Marinette's latest mistake is either being reluctant to let him move on... or letting him go because she foolishly 'wants him to be happy'.

(╯ಠ□ಠ)╯

The worst part is that they definitely won’t give a reason why Adrien > Luka outside of possibly “they have history” (fun fact that Hannah Montana back in the day - another show about a girl who led a double life - did this, except the guy she “had history with” - blond, famous, and rich - ended up cheating on her and she later pursued the other option properly - black-haired guitar boy who was way more flawed than Luka but was still endgame)

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Mylene will be treated as a better Multimouse than Marinette. Not because of any of her personality traits, but because she has more mass to draw from. This is trumpeted as 'body positivity'. (Bonus points if her design is still inexplicitly slimmed down by her transformation.)

I feel nothing but disgust from reading this, please apologize.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Juleka and Luka being twins/her being held back is confirmed by her getting bullied/mocked for her anxiety issues keeping her from completing assignments (flunking verbal reports, presentations). Alternately/in addition, it's revealed by Bustier while asking Marinette to help Juleka/fretting that she'll fail for similar reasons. Somehow, Bustier is still presented as a 'good teacher' despite being the one who held her back in the first place.

This will also be a reverse-”Gang of Secrets” where Luka doesn’t appear or has no input on the matter whatsoever.

“Bonus” if this ends up being used as the reason why Juleka has been mumbling for this whole season: they didn’t want her to be considered “stupid” so they retconned her to be more mumbly than before, which caused her to get held back.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: It's revealed that guys are normally incompatible with the Bee Comb because Pollen treats men like worker drones while all women are queens. Adrien is either an exception to this or gets to be Sadrien after he's briefly given the Bee and has to deal with Pollen going Full Sass on him, with her severe critiques being presented as totally wrong no matter how dead-on her analysis of his character actually is. Jokes are made about her 'poor judgement'.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Flashbacks will reveal that Gabriel had a similar personality to Marinette when he was younger. Unlike her, HIS anxieties will be treated as more serious/endearing, rather than something to be mocked and belittled -- think his own version of Sadrien. The parallels drawn between them may also be used to cast Marinette in a worse light/imply that she could go down the same path as him.

I hate how plausible “male character has anxiety but is treated properly” is.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will be the next Chloe; trusting her despite her clear personality flaws is ultimately shown to be another of Marinette's mistakes. Just like Chloe is an unrepentant bully, Alya is an 'aspiring journalist' first and foremost, and this will override whatever faith her BFF put in her.

THE PARALLELS CONTINUE.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: After Alya's eventual but inevitable betrayal, Trixx will defend her by reminding Marinette that 'She's a Fox. Foxes lie.' He's not even particularly *surprised* by Alya breaking her promises, treating it as proof that she's one of *his*. And it's not on him for not warning Mari, but entirely her fault for failing to recognize what being a Fox truly means.

You can’t trust foxes, Marinette, and that’s what makes them great.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Su-Han will constantly veto Marinette's ideas, ESPECIALLY ones that would have prevented problems that arise later on... which she then gets blamed for not averting. If she actually calls Su-Han out on this, he will insist that the fault falls upon her for not convincing him... if he even acknowledges that he was wrong/she actually suggested things that could have averted disaster.

“But--”

“No.”

“It makes so much se--”

“No.”

“YOU DIDN’T EVEN LISTEN TO WHAT I HAD TO SAY--”

“No.”

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: An episode will LITERALLY get on Marinette's case for breathing -- while hiding from an akuma with super-sensitive hearing, her needing air causes problems. Bonus points if she's breathing heavily after getting injured saving Chat Noir from being hurt due to his messing about; cue Drama and Sadrien without acknowledging his true culpability in the matter. (I.E. "It's all my fault! D:" "No, no, *cough* I should have dodged better..." "Fear not, my lady, I'll protect you!")

Miraculous: Tales of Marinette Not Even Being Allowed to Breathe

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: We'll see more in-universe merch and marketing of the heroes, their images stolen and sold without permission. Ladybug is dismayed and disturbed, while Chat dismisses it; he's financially secure and doesn't care how his image is (mis)used, while Marinette's concern is treated as 'silly'. Why is she so bothered by dolls with unrealistic proportions and painted-on suits, or ones that gussy her up to make her more overtly girly and marketable?

Bonus if this is also an episode where Marinette is strapped for cash due to possible gifts for friends or all the things she used to make for Adrien (i.e: more proof that her Adrien crush just makes her life worse), and she will be treated as greedy/selfish for wanting something out of her hero work.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya declares the LadyBlog to be officially endorsed by Ladybug herself, and that all of her information is verified by the heroine. This is a blatant lie, as she continues not to do any fact-checking or run anything by Marinette, and acts as though MARI is wrong for trying to call her out on this.

Alya will also be treated as in the right for taking advantage of the opportunity because “she deserved to know” and “should be getting extra rights” as Marinette’s best friend.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Gabriel is shown monitoring the LadyBlog and using information he gleans from it more and more. If Marinette expresses any concern about this to Alya, she gets dismissed as 'paranoid' and 'jumping at shadows'.

And, similarly to “Feast,” Alya will never be called out because the narrative will conveniently never make the connection to Alya or force Alya to realize that this was a mistake.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will be responsible for exposing Ladybug's secret identity to Chat Noir. Chat then gets *furious* at Marinette for telling her and not HIM, using this as an excuse to not reveal his *own* identity, sarcastically parroting back all her warnings about how 'It's just not safe' for them to know.

Totally ignoring the fact that Marinette was on verge of a breakdown in “Gang of Secrets.”

Sorry, Marinette, guess you should’ve let yourself plummet.

#Didn't Need Burrow

63 notes · View notes

jaeminscoffee · 4 years ago

Text

The midnight man | l.ty

Pairing- Lee Taeyong x reader

Mentions- Lee Donghyuck, Na Jaemin, Liu YangYang, Nakamoto Yuta, Seo Johnny, Kim Doyoung, Ten Lee, Lee Dong Wook.

Genre- Horror!au, angst, crack, part fluff.

Warning(s)- Evil entity!Taeyong, Manipulation, Major character death (lmao you'll actually punch yourself towards the end), sexual themes suggested, impulsive decision making, talks with religion.

Word count- 11.83k

Synopsis- 'Lust though pleasurable, innocent and vice, thee shall stay loyal to thy partner regardless of wants. To betray thy partner is to deceive thy people and hence the kingdom. Thou shall pay for thy soul shall remain wandering, driven by the desires but, shall not be able to feel the human love thou took for a grain of salt. And all who shall follow thy steps shall face the same wrath.'

@kpopscape

This story is pure work of fiction and therefore doesn't speak about the mentioned members' personality in real life. I, in no manner, am trying to encourage hate speech towards the members so please don't come at me. This story was written using a mix of a bunch of urban legends and few made up by myself and therefore it isn't going to be spoken about the same way as it is in google. I also worked really hard on this piece and it's by far, the longest story I've written so feedbacks would mean a lot!, also it could get a little boring since i took time to focus on the side characters too. Make sure not to repost my works and sign it off as your own because that's a little disheartening and mockful towards the writer. So all credits reversed to @jaeminscoffee 2020©®

If anyone here doesn't know the story behind the midnight game, then read on! Because I've described it throughout the story! Happy reading!

29/10, Thursday, 10:57PM

"We need to do something this halloween man, Y/n come on!"

Your friends all collectively whined as you constantly kept rejecting their proposal.

Halloween is bullshit. It's overhyped and in all honesty, childish. You'd rather prefer staying home than go house to house and make a fool out of your existence. Not to mention you were all past the age of trick or treating. And to add on top of that came all the sugar rush you'd all go through at the end of the day. "For the last time, Hyuck we're not dressing up like crewmates and going trick or treating. I've got other things to do for the love of god" you grunt, rubbing the scrunched up skin to soothe the pain at the temples. University has been acting up again and so has life. "If your 'other things to do' is binge watch high school musical then no, you have no other better things to do" Yangyang bites back.

"It's just, I don't feel like it anymore, alright? It feels too weird going out asking for candies when we're all literally 19 and above. It's time to up the notch." you say, plopping down.

When Haechan called for an emergency meeting in pure 'among us' style back at the guys' dorm, you'd expected it to be about something along the lines of having to console Jaemin or someone for having been stood up on a date. What you didn't expect was to have the boys prepare an entire presentation on who'd dress up as what character from among us and who'd be the impostor, do a little play and then say 'red is sus' and then ask for candies. What made it worse was that you thought they were just pulling a prank on you when in all reality, they were dead serious which made you go, 'oh, oh they aren't pretending to be stupid, they're just in their original form.'

"It won't be that bad, doll. It's a genius plan if you ask me" Jaemim chirped in on the conversation finally after looking back and forth between you, Donghyuck and Yangyang caught up in a meaningless fight. "I don't see how any of this is genius, Jaem. If this plan's anything, it's stupid." You pull out your phone after making your way all the way to the headboard of Jaemin's bed. "How about we try out one of these creepy pasta games?" Yuta finally spoke up. Jaemin's brother, an early graduate, senior and of course a dear friend of yours. Yuta, despite the age difference between your classmates and you, had little to no trouble blending in with the tiny group of yours. Probably the only one who didn't behave like a toddler and the most sane one according to you. Yuta's been an amazing planner since junior year where you first met Jaemin, Yangyang and Donghyuck who then proceeded to introduce you to their senior friend group that consists of Yuta, Johnny, Doyoung; Donghyuck's cousin and Ten. You guys had a friendship the entire campus was envious of. But two year after you getting into the university, the seniors had to graduate. But that didn't stop all your bonds from staying as strong as ever. Not even after Ten got his posting in a town a little far away from the one you guys lived in. The distance didn't change anything between you guys and you were as close as you could ever get.

"Creepypasta?" Donghyuck inquired, looking straight at the guy who aimlessly scrolled down the screen of his device as Yuta didn't even bother looking up while passing the confused boy a nod. Sitting up cross legged from his previous side sitting posture, Yuta showed his phone screen to Donghyuck, who immediately got surrounded by the other two while you stare at the oldest in the room, slightly intrigued by the idea. "Creepypasta's like these horror-related legends that have been copied and pasted around the Internet by people who're too bored for their own sake." you explain as Haechan took the phone out of Yuta's hand who agreed to your explanation. "I read some sick games that I kinda wanna try out and see for myself," he said, looking at you with expectations and then the rest who seemed too immersed in surfing the website.

"Yuta, you of all people should know better than to think all these made up crap's real" you say nonchalantly.

Yuta's a huge skeptic, and so were you. Which is why you got along really well despite the mentioned age gap. The night gatherings back at the boy's dormitory or the girls (in this case, girl, yours) would always end up in narration of on spot made up stories of all genre, mostly horror because apparently according to Jaemin 'Rom-com's overhyped, sci-fi won't be fun when you narrate it out loud, mystery can easily turn boring, comedy, meh i guess, but a good horror story narrated properly, -yes, like you, Haechan- while adding jumpscares here and there could actually result in y'all being too scared to use the bathroom on your own'. And yeah, you'd startle here and there but the stories weren't believable enough for you to actually be scared. On the other hand, Haechan and Jaemin were scaredy cats. Literal toddler's who're so gullible, you could literally tell them there was an alien invasion news flash two minutes ago and they'd be hiding under their bed. And then there's Yangyang, he just doesn't care. He goes along with the plans solely for the fun of it and for the other's' (Haechan and Jaemin) reaction. "That's the point. I don't" he shuffled around to shift closer to you,

"Which is exactly why i want to try them out"

Maybe it's the feline that crossed over his body, maybe it was the fact that his spirit just wasn't ready to leave the human realm yet. Maybe it's the mourning of his family or maybe it's him himself knowing full too well his potential was truly wasted due to the fast departure. Whatever it was, his spirit was definitely made restless.

The world is a cruel place where harsh actions are always sugar coated by honey like words. It's how he knew the doings of his people were wrong that made him disappointed. The practices of the people, his people, were stupid, meaningless and only harmful to the human kind. They fend off the satisfaction of their almighty even if that means that there needs to be sacrification of their loved ones, their nemesis, or them themselves. And it was his ancestors fault for starting all these practices.

Passed down generations from generations was the curse put on the first of their bloodline by the princess he'd defied to go out and be ruthless by disregarding his duties as a husband, a father, a member of the royal courts and as a human being.

Lee Dong Wook. The root of all evil, the main reason the males of the family line faced the same wrath as him, all cursing at him but one namely enjoying his role. The pagans, dating back to the roman times era had a very, let's say, interesting method of punishing. The said lords they'd worship, the people following the religions had a strong belief that nature is sacred and that the natural cycles of birth, growth and death observed in the world around us carry profoundly spiritual meanings. Gods and goddesses of life, or say, death or anything else that exists beyond life and death, they believed in all.

The doings of his ancestors started off innocent. Sacrifices to the lords of goodness and tranquility, a peaceful life by the towns and outskirts, forgiveness for wrong doings and of course, happiness. It's how any religious rituals would go about and all were happy until the said betrayer of the group came in with that curse of his. 'The doings of his shall be repented for all the men following shall be the one paying it,'

At first glance when the man returned back to his royals, there were little to no suspicions of a curse being casted on him. He seemed normal to his family, his people except for the occasional forcing people to do something they despised. And it wasn't just the men of the family instead, it was all. But mostly the men, unless the same sin were to be committed by the females. Obscure behaviors have been asked to follow starting exactly at midnight to the witch's hour be it hurting your loved one, your enemy, doing sinful things, allowing self to get manipulated and mostly, shortening their own life time in the human realm. It was all unexplainable. Why was he asking people to do things like this but most of all, why are they even listening to him?

It wasn't until they discovered that Dong Wook, for one, was never the one who returned home. On a second note, he, 'Dong Wook' mainly only targeted the men whose doings were similar to his that was fueled by the same sin that had him going. Which only remained undiscovered. The curse was unbeknownst to all still, Dong Wook himself remained undiscovered. Or proposed by the elders of the community, his body remained undiscovered while his spirit roamed restless among the people.

The pagan romanticists are, in most cases, ignorant of the “paganism” they praise—the redeemed paganism of Christianity depicted in the transfigured water of the True Well of Life. Wrestling with the Greek gods, however, leads us to see the hyper-anthropomorphization of the gods with one intention in mind—justification of sexual lusts and displays of power over the weak.

The oldest written account of the Greek deities is from Hesiod. His Theogony, literally “birth of the gods,” charts out the genealogies of the major and minor deities in two branches. The first set of gods come into existence without sex. The second set of gods come into existence with sex; often very graphic and violent sex and they continue to have violent sex after their birth.

As Hesiod continues to describe the birth and death of the gods and great monsters of antiquity, the chaining of Prometheus to his eternal torment is described. So too is Hades’ rape of Persephone. Battle is depicted left and right, and “a terrible din arose from their dreadful wrath, and the work of power was revealed”. Lust, sex, and war reign supreme in Hesiod’s telling of the birth of the gods. Moreover, it is from this brutality and carnality that Hesiod gives them praise—only those with enough cunning and ambition are worthy of having the praise of the muses.

That the gods birthed through sexual lust are themselves lustful was not missed by Christians of the pagan community. Though St. Augustine received the Romanized version of the Greek myths, he goes to great lengths and laborious pains—using the pagans’ own prophecies —to highlight the moral depravity of the gods in Confessions and City of God.

His sin, after all the years, was lust and the want to dominate.

'Lust though pleasurable, innocent and vice, thee shall stay loyal to thy partner regardless of wants. To betray thy partner is to deceive thy people and hence the kingdom. Thou shall pay for thy soul shall remain wandering, driven by the desires but, shall not be able to feel the human love thou took for a grain of salt. And all who shall follow thy steps shall face the same wrath.'

Oh, how lust was a dangerous feeling.

29/10 continued. 11:28PM

It's how you all circled around in the living room like any other day that was comical to you. Instead of reading out your own made up story, it so happened to be the Creepypastas Yuta screenshotted for what he wanted to try out and see for himself. It wasn't even his idea to read them out. Haechan and Jaemin's 'too curious for their own sake' selves were the ones who wanted to read it out loud. "How about we sit in the order of who's gonna read out what and when?" Yangyang suggested, standing up from his seat. "Yuta read out the topics and we'll pick randomly."

"No fun! Hold up," Haechan did some pretty exaggerated hand actions before getting up and heading to his room, well, Jaemin's room to do who knows what. "Okay? I'll get the candles!" Yangyang said, him getting out of his seat too, "And I'll go get the bible, jesus christ" and Jaemin was out of his seat too. You look at Jaemin in a funny manner, as though questioning him with your eyes if he's actually going to get a bible or not, "What? I don't want to die young, I'm too hot for that" he said, before following Haechan's steps to his bedroom, "Yikes, you aren't going to die dude"

"Okayy, I'm back, make way bitches" Haechan dictated to which he earned a few groans and a smack on the ankle from Yuta, "Jaemin! I can't find the candles!" "It's beside the Reese's cups! Second rack inside of the refrigerator!" Jaemin says while walking back up to your tiny circle with an empyre comic in his hand and a cross pendant dangling off of his neck, "That's a bible?" you question. "Shush, do not question the power of avengers and fantastic four." Jaemin replies, holding the comic up close to his chest. You all collectively dismiss it with a concerned look directed towards the male, "Are we not going to question the fact that Jaemin keeps his candles inside the fridge?"

"So here's what we're going to do, I've got these tiny papers which have numbers from 1 to 5,because we're five people and I've folded the paper into chits, once i toss it, we pick random sheets and the number you get is when your turn to read is, any objections?" Haechan explained, "Even if you have any, keep it to yourself because I don't care" he bites in again while juggling the folded sheets in a closed palm while the other supports his body by it being planted behind him. "Okay I'm back with the candles" Yangyang finally joins in on the circle, completing it, "You took that long to find one candle?" Yuta asks, "No i was eating the reese's cups" he replied, wiping his hand on your jean clad thighs earning him a loud whine of 'Eww that's disgusting man' and a little too far from soft smacks on his shoulder, "You piece of sh-" Jaemin starts, "Okay all, Focus!" Haechan cuts him off, ready to throw the bits onto the space between the five of you in front of the now lit candle (Thank you, Yuta), and so he tossed it a little high up from the ground, letting the paper fall of his palms and onto the floor while being cautious of not throwing it anywhere near the flame.

"Now let's arrange ourselves according to the numbers, who's number one?" Haechan asks, Yuta raises his hands while pointing at where he's sitting, "I'm not getting up, y'all arrange yourself so that the person going second is to my right and the last person would be to my left", you all look at him nonchalantly, "What?" with a shake of your head, you proceed calling out numbers, "Number two?" Haechan shoves Yangyang back to take his place beside Yuta, "bitch." Yangyang seats himself beside Haechan, followed by Jaemin and lastly, you.

"First, Yuta!" Jaemin slurs the elders name, receiving a death glare from his cousin. Nevertheless, Yuta cleared up his throat and switched his attention to his phone screen, "The first urban legend is from Japan, ironically." He states as a matter of fact, "It's called Aka Manto."

"Aka manto is an urban legend related to toilets—particularly those in elementary schools.-"

"Is that why you take a relatively long time inside of the bathroom? Are you, you know? Tickling pickles with Aka Mant-ow! Sorry!" Yangyang was wasted as he was tackled onto the floor by Yuta, while the rest of you cracked up, "Now let's get a little serious, come onnn!" Haechan whines.

"This phenomenon is known all over Japan, with countless variations on the same theme. It usually takes place in a specific stall in a specific bathroom in the school. Usually it is an older or seldom used bathroom, often in a stall with an older style squat toilet. Often the fourth stall is the cursed one, as the number four is associated with death." "I'm so glad our university has only two stalls," Jaemin chimes in, suddenly grasping the cross pendant.

"Most stories follow this general pattern: while at school late in the evening, a student suddenly finds him or herself in desperate need of a toilet. The closest restroom available is one that is normally avoided by the students; it is older and less well-kept, separated from the rest of the school, and is rumored to be haunted. But with no time to search for a different restroom, the student enters. He or she does their business, and when they have finished, they reach for the toilet paper only to find that there is none. Then they hear a strange voice" Yuta looks up from the phone screen, "“Do you want red paper? Or blue paper?”"

"None bitch, give me the classic white,"

With a roll of his eyes, Yuta continues, "If the student answers, Red paper, moments later, they're stabbed and sliced up violently that blood seeps out of them, painting the walls of the stall red and it soaks up into their body, making them appear red", "And if the student responds blue paper, then their blood is going to be sucked up dry, leaving them dead and blue-faced on the floor."

"But! If you try to outsmart Aka Manto, by replying to question with, i don't know, "Yellow paper" then too, dead is inevitable, you will be shoved onto the floor where the spirit is said hold your head down in the dirty toilet water until you drown and well, die" Yuta ends with a shrug of his shoulder, "Seems pretty bullshit to me" and you agree alongside, though, it could be a little creepy if the existing legend did turn out to be true. "Okay next!"

Yuta leans back a little more, pressing onto your side which you took as an invitation to lean on his shoulder. When you did so, all Yuta did was beam at you and wrap his arms around you to keep you close after handing the phone over to Haechan, "If you want me to start reading you have to give it up for me. Give me the grand welcome that i deserve" the lad said in a childish voice which again only earned him a few smacks and half hearted applauds. "So this one is apparently called, the one man hide and seek" though all narrations were being taken on a lighter note, the mood set in the room gave you enough space to picture the stories, added to that came the factor that Donghyuck knows exactly how to narrate what.

"The "One-Man Hide and Seek", also known as the "One-Man Tag," is a ritual for contacting the dead. The spirits, which are wandering restless on the Earth, are always looking for bodies to possess. In this ritual, you will summon such a spirit, by offering it a doll instead of a human body." He lowers his voice while focusing solely on the screen.

"The warnings say that if you have any psychic abilities, you may feel unwell or be prone to accidents during the ritual." He raises his eyebrows, looking at all four of you in a curious manner. The things you need for this game seems lowkey sketch"

"One stuffed doll. It must have limbs, Rice, enough to stuff the doll full. One needle, and one crimson thread. One pair of nail clippers. One sharp-edged tool, such as a knife, glass shard, or scissors. One cup of salt water. Natural salt would be best. A bathroom, with a bathtub and some form of counter. A hiding place, preferably a room purified by incense and ofuda. There must be a TV in there." Haechan's face contorts with each requirement for the game. Letting out a defeated sigh, he hands the phone over to Yangyang, "Of all the stories i could've narrated, i got chosen for this and for what? Just to contact stupid poltergeists. Just play a ouija board and go"

Giving Haechan a sympathetic pat on the back, he takes the device. Looking through the screen he cracks up a smile, "Alright, listen up closely. This is an Urban legend classic"

"The Slender Man-" a bunch of 'aahhs' of realization resonate through the room

"-is a supernatural creature that is described as appearing as a normal human being but he is described as being 8 feet tall and he has vectors or extra appendages that are described to be as sharp as swords. The creature is known to stalk humans and cause many disappearances. He is described as a shadow creature that has a missing face. The creature fits into many mythologies in legends from nations such as germany and celts which brings up the possibility that he could be real." Yangyang pauses to add in a little more life to his reading while all of your paid full concentration to him

"A man named victor Surge found this legend and made his own version of it which he called slender man. The slender man is not exactly evil according to mythology but victor Surge’s version shows him as an evil creature that stalks humans to kill. In mythology he was actually trying to save you from a painful death by taking you to the underworld early." he ends, placing the phone down in front of him, screen down. "Kills you to save you from a death and collectively shortens your lifespan? Seems legit to me" Jaemin chimes in while the rest of you chuckle whereas Haechan pouted at the device in front of his friend, "I should've gotten that story"

"My turn!"

"So, ahem-" Once the focus is all on him,Jaemin looks down onto the device containing his part of narration. "- This is an urban legend about a girl named Daruma who was a young Japanese woman that died in the bathroom, which upon entering to take a bath, it stumbled and her forehead ended up against the edge of the tube, destroying it the brain, at the same time that her eye embedded in the tube , leaving it in consequence, one-eyed key and later , dead by bleed out." "Oh god ouch" You hiss as though your forehead was the one that hit the edge, " Her appearance as described is apparently; black hair that is entangled, her clothes rotting and made shreds. She only has one eye. Her left eye is completely open and injected with blood." "That's gruesome," Yangyang adds, earning a nod from Jaemin who's eyes were still fixated on the screen. "And apparently there's a ritual that you can follow to summon her into your house for twenty four hours straight" At the silence, he continues. "I'll shorten it, so you have to begin it right before your bedtime, shed all your clothing and enter your bathroom, turn off all the lights and fill in your bathtub, climb into it while being seated facing faucet, close your eyes and start washing your hair while chanting "Daruma-san fell down" and keep chanting that until you're done washing your hair, and yeah don't open your eyes."

"If you did it right then you'll get this image of a japanese who'll slip and fall in front of you. Even if you hear a noise behind you, do not open your eyes, no matter what it takes, Ask out loud, 'why did you fall in the bathtub' and let that hang in the air. With your eyes still closed, get up and out of the tub and be careful not to slip and do not drain the tub. Go to your room, don't turn the lights on, shut the bathroom door closed and sleep. Wake up the next day and carry on with your day and you'll apparently feel her presence alongside you all day. She'll constantly try getting close to you, when she does, scream 'Tomare!',"

"That means stop," Yuta adds to which you all hum in understanding.

"To end the game, capture her gaze from over your shoulder and say 'Kitta' which means 'I cut you loose' while swinging your arm in a chopping motion. If you followed the procedures then you'll be rewarded but if not then, run. That's all it says here" He stops, looking a little shaken at how he created an image of it all in his mind. "They didn't say how to get rid of her if you fail following the procedure?" you ask

"No." Jaemin shrugs it off

"Alright boys, my turn"

30th October, Friday, 10:53PM

It's probably how you read out your part of story telling, or it was how he felt the game was a little too unrealistic that had Yuta hooked onto the urban legend.

Yuta found himself at his dorm doing a little more research on the midnight ritual. A backpack already consisting of all the elements required for the game, 'could it really be played just by one person?'. Whatever it was, he really wanted to do the game. He wanted someone to accompany him, of course. But knowing his friend group, not many would be ready to play it alongside. Doyoung was probably busy preparing his resumes for his job interviews. Johnny's all the way back in Chicago for a little family time. Ten was a little too far from your town so he'd feel bad calling him all the way over just to perform a probably demonic ritual. Donghyuck and Jaemin are out of the question, they'd obviously say no. Yangyang has a company party to attend as the heir. And you had to study for your test on Monday so he didn't really feel like disturbing you though, he did inform you that he was going out to have some fun and that you could join him anytime. Closing his laptop with a sigh, he gets up and walks over to where his bag was sprawled across the floor, picks it up and makes his way out of the studio apartment like dormitory after grabbing his car keys.

Not like he believed it was real, it's incase if the legend turns out to be even the slightest of reality, he wasn't going to get his dormitory haunted, instead opting to perform it at the house he grew up in, his childhood house. That was left abandoned ever since they moved out months before his younger brother was born after his father had an episode still unknown to him inside the place. It was convenient enough to perform the ritual in and no one lives there anymore, and it was just a few minutes from where his house was anyways.

Reaching the place and swinging the backpack over his shoulder, he makes his way into the surprisingly still intact house. Not much time to waste, looking around, Yuta slowly made his way up the wooden stairs, the wood creaking with each step he took to prove the existence of this house dated long back. The guest room shut lock from lack of human souls even when they used to live there. The paintings still hung off of a single screw, nostalgia hitting him straight as he recalled the one time he was playing catch with a neighbor's kid and ended up breaking the glass frame. The wallpaper's adhesive seemingly had gotten weaker from how they had started coming out from nooks and crannies of the walls. The place, without doubt, looked a little creepy but nonetheless felt homely.

Switching on all switches from the main controller that was in the control room right by the end of the hallway, the entire darkness was replaced with light as the bulbs shockingly still seemed to function. The warm white colour of the lights took Yuta all the way back to his growing up years, missing all the fun he'd had there and all the memories he'd created. He, though grew up mostly by himself from how busy his parents were on the weekdays and sometimes the weekends, missed them more now that they live far off in Japan with his mother's family. Especially now that he was in the place they spent the most time together in. Shaking his head, he had no trouble navigating his way to his childhood room. Where he set the bag down.

He reached out to his back pocket to get out his phone, switching it on as the screen illuminated, 11:28PM, the screen read. To kill the time, Yuta set up all the items required in place to proceed the ritual smoothly. He pulled his laptop out of the backpack once he was all set to maybe watch something on the internet. It being other peoples attempt at the ritual he was about to perform.

11:55PM.

Yuta inhaled, having only a few more minutes until he had to proceed. He recalled your words,

"Alright boys, my turn" You snatch the phone out of Jaemin's hand who seemed really immersed in finding out more about the legend he just read out about, earning a pout from him. "I was reading" he let out in a whiny tone immediately going stoic after receiving a 'do i care' look from your end. "Okay, so the story I'm going to read out is called the midnight man, or the midnight game" You scroll back and forth through the pages the oldest of the group screenshotted. "From what he's gathered, there's not much backstory, but apparently it's a ritual or mostly a punishment that the pagan's use to punish the betrayer of the group who failed to stay loyal to their lords or the group. One of the people of the religion will summon the midnight man to an abandoned house where they lock up the said betrayer who'll then be put through god knows what by the midnight stranger," You stop to look up from the screen to look at each of your friends before letting out a sigh.

"My take on this though is that it's highly impossible since the rules here state that once you start the ritual you aren't allowed the leave the place until the game is completely done unless you want the midnight man to follow you around for as long as you live, so unless the midnight man actually favored the pagans, there's no way they could punish the betrayer without one of the loyal ones passing away along with the one being punished" you state, "But what if, it's the midnight man that they preach? You know, like, they could be praying the midnight man" Haechan adds in a point which seemed to make sense, "That's possible too"

"Why would someone preach an evil entity? That's so sketch" Jaemin asks perplexed. "They did a lot of sketchy things back in the days, Jaem. I wouldn't question it," Yuta chirps. "Is there any other backstory given about the midnight man?" Yangyang finally speaks up, "Well not really, but when i was taking screenshots of this it apparently started with a curse on someone whose identity is unknown to most. There was no such thing as the midnight game or ritual until the said bewitched man came back into town. I only know up to there, but there are high chances that he's probably the origin of the ritual." Yuta explains. "Why does Y/n get the best always, that's so unfair" Haechan's dramatic self whines while leaning onto Yangyang who rolled his eyes but nonetheless threw his hands around the latter's shoulder, "Anyways, the procedure for the ritual is given here."

"You need one candle, a lighter or a match box or anything that ignites fire, a piece of paper, something to write with, a sharp object, it could be a pin, it just needs to be something sharp enough to draw blood, a wooden door, and salt for protection-" You read out, "Now why the fuck would they need blood," Jaemin asks, shaken up. "That's for them to know and us to find out"

"Here's how the invitation for the midnight man goes. Begin prior to midnight,"

Yuta stood up from his bed, and walked up to the backpack on the floor, picking out the papers he'd brought along and took out a blunt pencil.

"Write your full name- first, middle, and last- on the piece of paper with your writing implement." He wrote syllable by syllable, Nakamoto Yuta. "Prick your finger with the pin and squeeze until a drop of blood appears. Dot the blood on the paper and allow it to soak in. Turn off every light in your home." He took out the small safety pin he brought along from his jean pocket, pressing his fingers hard and pricked into the skin as hard as he could, keeping in mind to not draw too much blood. Yuta let the droplet fall right in the space between his last name and first.

"Place the paper with your name and blood on it in front of the closed wooden door. Light the candle using the matches or lighter and place it on top of the paper. If you are using a taper, make sure it is placed in a candle holder." He walks up to the door and places down the paper with his name and blood on it, with the half melted scented candle he brought along. Yuta took out his phone once again, 11:59. "Knock on the door 22 times. The final knock must occur precisely when the clock chimes 12am. Open the door; then blow out the candle and close the door. Relight your candle immediately." He starts to knock on the door, drumming on the dusty wood, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22.

He checks the time once again, 12:00AM.

He leans down to pick the glass jar containing the candle, relighting it,

"I welcome you."

Taeyong loved the tiny creatures in the human realm. They were so naive and so, stupid but weirdly smart at the same time that made playing with them ten times more interesting. The callings from them, or the way they say it in the human realm, summoning the spirit was the only way he could gain access to enter the place. Summoning wasn't even necessary. Saying his name out was more than enough for him to go up to you. Midnight man, midnight stranger, midnight visitor, pagan's god, What not had the human's named him.

The only one besides his ancestor of said curse that enjoyed the power of punishing people was Taeyong himself. The youngest of the bloodline and the freshest of pagan's spirit, he loved the power he had. Sure he had no access to love, instead besides lust and range he felt nothing, maybe amusement too, but none other than that and he seemed perfectly fine with that. Human's always seeked lust more than love either way so he found no problem in being void of feeling a vulnerable emotion. Instead, he found love pathetic. Watching human's from where he lived, he'd seen all from men and women seeking love by going to heights of trouble only to waste away your remaining life with one partner. Leeching off of pleasure at times when you had a significant other. He always got a hearty laugh from all of that. According to him, if you want someone, get them. Instead of tailing them and trying to be a goody two shoes, just make them yours in a way that's inevitable for them to fall for you. Control how they feel. Easier said than done since he was the only one with the ability to do so, 'how fucking pitiful'.

So when he saw you and your small group of friends discussing about him, laughing at all the assumptions you made along the way, he wanted each of you to himself. "My take on this though is that it's highly impossible since the rules here state that once you start the ritual you aren't allowed to the leave the place until the game is completely done unless you want the midnight man to follow you around for as long as you live, so unless the midnight man actually favored the pagans, there's no way they could punish the betrayer without one of the loyal ones passing away along with the one being punished" you're smart and that was intriguing to him. He liked the way you thought of things and the male beside you too, you both seemed to take tales of him as a grain of salt and that, besides angering him, made him feel the want to prove himself to you. Taeyong found the other three cute, seemingly scared of him just the way he liked it.

His ancestor's who held the same power as him, the curse actually, came to be known as said lord because of their power of manipulation and to inject in their worst nightmare into their minds that had the people divide themselves into groups. One that believed the power they had was for the good and considered them to be their god, their savior. And the other being the one's scared of their power and the fear that the same faith would bestow upon them that had them pray for forgiveness for sins they never committed. So your friend had the point a little, but it was inaccurate. They believed him. Believed Taeyong and feared his power. He loved people bowing down in front of him, eyes trembling and body shivering. It gave him a sense of dictatorship. And he had set his mind to have both of you non-believers fear him.

Having been brought up with little to no love, Taeyong followed down the same path as his great grandfather. Not having enough time to feel the vulnerable emotion, he chose to go down the path of pleasure and power play. His powers though, seemingly stronger than the past generations, probably due to the fact that he was young, ruthless and free of care. He could make himself appear physically in the human realm in any shape and form, though he always preferred to go in his original, but less scarier form. His visuals were out of the world. He didn't have to scare people to make them obey, instead all he had to do was pretend to be there and just be himself and that only made humans seem even pathetic to him.

"Relight your candle immediately"

12:01PM, The main event.

"Keeping your candle in hand and your salt and matches or lighter close by, begin to move about your home. Should your candle go out, you must relight it within the next ten seconds. If you are successful, continue moving about your home. Do not stop moving until 3:33 am. If you are unsuccessful in relighting the candle, immediately surround yourself with a circle of salt. Remain inside the circle until 3:33 am. At 3:33 am, it is safe to stop moving or to step outside your circle of salt. You may also turn on the lights. The game Is Over."* You conclude. Hissing slightly at the sudden pain by your shoulder that was exposed from the minimalistic clothing you'd adorned, the stranger looking over it all smirked to himself. 'Got it'

Yuta opened the door again, mindful to keep his phone back in his jean pocket along with the lighter and of course, the salt be brought along. Starting from the end of the hallway, nothing seemed to change except now, the eerie silence was starting to bother him, 'Just 3 hours to go,'. He didn't miss a single corner, walking room to room, corner to corner, mindful to stay inside all the way. The temperature of certain rooms seemingly lesser than others. A cold pocket.

"There are few warnings too," you swipe the image to go to the next one, "At 3:33 am, the Midnight Man will leave your home. After he has left, you may safely end the game. Do NOT turn on any lights during the game. Do NOT use a flashlight during the game. Do NOT go to sleep during the game. Do NOT use a lighter instead of a candle during the game." Check. He had a lighter on him just to relight the candle anyways.

Taeyong, following the guy seemed to be quite impressed by his bravery. Not even the slightest of shaken up as he proceeded to walk about the villa. That's good, no slip ups and he seemed too good to mess anything up either ways, and that bored the entity. Where's the fun if he just succeeded?

To avoid the candle from going off at the sudden flickering, Yuta covered it up the best he could with his hands and checked around whether any windows were left open. Darkness engulfed the surrounding all of a sudden, the lad being taken aback, 10 seconds. He rushed to take out his lighter, 9, pressing the button repeatedly to ignite the flame only to get a small blue flame instead, huh? 8, running back full speed happy that he was in the premises of where his backpack is, he pulled the spare lighter, a brand new one out of the side pocket, 7, repeating the same process of flicking the button over and over, 6 until a bright orange flame engulfed the dark room, 5, he immediately grabbed his candle from besides the bag, 4 reaching in close by the wick, burning himself slightly in 3-, the process. Yuta heaves out a sigh of relief, while the spirit laughs at the frantic boy. 'He's cute.'

For a breaker, he took out his phone, looking at the time that seemed to pass by quickly throughout the ritual, 2:47 AM. A little more while to go until he'd finally get it over with. "Do not attempt to provoke the Midnight Man during the game." You ended for the nth time that night, "Which idiot would-" Yangyang asks "Haechan-" Jaemin pretends to cough while blurting out his best friends name, the mentioned feigning offence while tilting his head to the side, tongue poking at the insides of his cheek. "Seems like that's pretty much it." you shrug while the older guy beside you leaning back on both of his hands, "I kinda wanna try that out" Yuta raised his eyebrows at you. "Halloween night? We all go together" you chirp in, both of you whipping your heads to look at the three perplexed boys. "Uh, I have to water my fish on halloween? She'd get pretty thirsty". Jaemin's eyes wandered about, coming up with an excuse, "And I gotta walk my rock yo, physical fitness." Haechan adds, "Can I bring my fish along? She could use some exercising".

"Come on guys, it won't be that bad, we'll stick in a group?" You pleaded, trying your best to muster up the cutest puppy eyes. "I'm down" Yangyang shrugs. You do a tiny seal clap, looking expectedly at the other two, Yangyang and Yuta doing the same. "We stick together?" Haechan asks, to which the three of you nod your head,

"Alright then we're down too"

[3:04AM 30th, October. ]

A few more minutes left until he'd succeed, Yuta was starting to grow tired of constantly roaming. He'd usually not the one to wear out that quickly, but for a reason unknown to him, he felt utterly sleepy, tired, hungry and just wanted to lie down. He decided to take a small break, the candle still light, dangerously flickering but yet still intact. Yuta sat by the foot of the stairs as Taeyong looked at him with the same cocky smirk on his face, contemplating whether to pop out or not. 'Maybe let's make it subtle? '

Taking up the form of a black humanoid figure, Taeyong makes his way towards Yuta whose eyes seem to be dropping low with each passing second. Upon hearing the sounds of footsteps Yuta looks up, a hand on his forehead from the sudden throbbing headache. Letting out a loud yell at the figure in front of him that disappeared almost immediately, he rushed to grab his lighter again. The sudden temperature drop made him shudder. Taking out the new lighter, he pressed the button again and again as the time limit started to exhaust, 6, at a successful fire, he reached for his candle, only for the flame to go off when it neared the candle wick. "what the fuck.." 5, "come on.." he stated in a rushed voice, sure that he just saw whatever he saw once again. Finally flicking the button one last time, he succeeded in lighting the candle.

Contrary to popular belief, the midnight man didn't always radiate death. Sometimes he just messes around with the humans because the underworld could get a little boring. And as the curse states death and wrath is only to be faced by those who sinned and the boy playing right now seemed to be of no threat. All Taeyong wanted to do was get the guy to believe in his existence. Skeptics were like an insult to him. So if he had to prove himself and his existence on his own, then so be it. He gets some pretty good experience out of it anyways.

Yuta stood up immediately, remembering the warning's you'd stated, "Do not stop moving until 3:33am", walking back up the stairs, he took out his phone to check the time, 3:29am. Almost.

The same sounds of footsteps resonated from behind him, Yuta took an immediate U-turn. Going back down the stairs and roaming the empty, dark hallways, making sure to enter each and every room, keeping a mental note to thank his parents for having a slightly confusing infrastructure. The wax was almost completely out in the glass jar, but he had to hang in there for a little longer than 2 more minutes when he felt something brush his shoulder, much similar to how a friend would drape their hands over his/her friends' shoulder. He could've brushed it off as anything if it weren't for the sharp pain he felt right after the feeling of someone touching him. He's getting the proof he wants. Almost as if someone pulled his hoodie, Yuta stumbled back, letting out a shaky scream, tripping on his own foot, landing butt down onto the floor, catching a glimpse of the same humanoid figure he'd been seeing. He needs to get out of there.

Stumbling back onto his feet, Yuta bolted it upstairs, grabbing his phone once again to check the time, 3:32am. Reaching his room, he set the candle down right beside him, vary of the windows and doors, starting to back his backpack, the sounds of rushed footsteps running start to where he is ringing through his ears, hands shakingly packing his bag. Keeping the candle closeby, contemplating whether to draw a salt circle or not since there was only less than half a minute left when the same humanoid figure neared him with fast footsteps, reaching by the door frame with a loud agonizing scream only to disappear immediately.

Not realising the stress of tears flowing and the tresses sticking to his forehead, Yuta looked at the door frame in a perplexed yet confused manner. What the fuck was that.

Taking out his phone once again while grabbing his backpack, laptop and the car keys in the other hand, 3:34 am. He'd made it through. After reaching the front door, not even bothering to close it, he rushed to his car, starting it before pulling up your contacts, seeing the messages he'd never sent you.

Yuta san 1:39am: The boys said they won't make it tomorrow, it's gonna be just you and i

Y/nleE 1:43am: Why not?

Yuta san 1:45am: Dk, they said they aren't interested. So come near xxxx tomorrow at 11:30. I'll meet you there.

Y/nleE 1:48am: Coolsies.

Yuta san 3:38am: Y/n don't come here, gather the boys and meet me by Haechan's dorm tomorrow. The game's no fucking joke.

And with that he started driving away quickly to his dormitory, not once looking back at the house to see a human. Or a human like figure standing there, A bright red hair standing out due to his blood drained looking pale skin. A smirk on his face

Message not delivered.

31st October, 22:37PM, 2020.

Today was a weird day,

Having all plan's set two days before, you'd make sure to keep yourself ready for whatever you and your friend group were supposed to do today. You finished up all your assignments earlier that day to keep yourself free from afternoon and on.

The weird part was that, no matter how much you kept your phone for charge, each time you tried calling one of the guys to ask for the sudden bailing out on plan, which is a shocker because they've never done that, your phone kept switching off. You could've gone all the way to their apartment, well, dorm, but you decided to wait until later to do so. Maybe a few minutes before leaving to the place Yuta texted you so that they'd have no choice but to come along. Since your last time texting with Yuta, you hadn't heard from him. Granted, he did text you quite late at night saying he's going to do god knows what and to tell you of the sudden plan change, but you hadn't heard from him after, that being weird since he literally lives a floor below yours, he could've come any moment but nope. You kept a mental note to tell him off later.

You took out your phone once again to check if they'd sent any messages or missed calls only to have an empty chat box, other than that of your other friends that is. Added on top of that came the constant pricking feeling on your shoulder blades from the last day you hung out with the boys. The pain would appear randomly and it would be hurtful enough to draw blood, which is weird considering the fact that you kept yourself away from all sharp objects and had a full sleeve covering the area.

One stone, two birds. Taeyong's motto.

After having interfered with your phone, your friends, trying to keep you away from them until you'd go through the same as your other skeptic partner, Taeyong made sure that Yuta would be sick enough after returning home to keep him from even getting up from his bed. Temporary paralysis. Your other friends, of course they tried reaching out to you, only for him to cut the service to keep you away from them for a while. They got easily distracted from you ignoring their texts as they were focused on reaching out to Yuta.

Unknown: Hey Y/n, I'm Yuta's friend. He told me you aren't replying to his texts so asked me to do so.

Y/n: Who's this?

Unknown: Oh! I'm Taeyong! A close friend of well, your friend XD.

Y/n: Nice to meet you, Taeyong. I'm Y/n but it seems like you already know that.

Unknown: Yeah :). Yuta's on his way here and told me that you'd be joining us? Are you nearby?

Y/n: He left? No, actually, I'm just leaving my place. I guess I'll meet you there?

Taeyong: Meet ya :)

[23:22PM, 31st October, 2020 continued. ]

Hailing a cab to the address Yuta had sent you with his friends, Taeyong's number saved on your phone in case the later won't pick up, you left your place. Still feeling a little eerie from how Yuta just decided to leave you behind when he could've just offered to go together, which is pure Yuta style. He probably wasn't in the best of moods but he could've at least texted you letting you know of his departure from the apartment building.

The journey to the given address didn't take that long surprisingly. A little towards the outskirts of the town in a much aloof part but nonetheless, doable. It's not like you'd be alone there any ways. Paying for your fare, you took your purse, brushed your fingers through your hair to tame it a little from the ride, and turned towards the building, jumping slightly at the bright haired guy sitting by the front porch. Adorning the simplest of fit, a black knee slit jeans, with a graphic tee and a black leather jacket with a chain or two. He, in no doubts, was ethereal. His pale skin stood out the most in the street light if you could call it that and his lips seemed a little drained of blood, eyes hollow yet captivating when he looked up from the dirt below him to you who still stood yards away. Smiling, he got up, making his way towards after brushing off the invisible lint from his jeans, "Hey" he offered you his hands for you to shake upon reaching you. "Hey..? Taeyong, right?"

Wanting so badly to smirk, he only looked down with a silent snicker, looking up immediately to not look suspicious, "Yeah, Y/n..?" you nod in response, shuddering from the coldness of his skin, "Have you been out for too long? You're freezing," you exclaim, looking at him with a guilty expression and taking a mental note to hit Yuta for not arriving earlier. "Oh no, i just reached a minute or two prior to your arrival." you nod in understanding, withdrawing your hands from his hold, "By the way, Yuta called me a few minutes ago, telling me that he wouldn't make it and to just carry on" Taeyong said, looking at you with his eyebrows raised at your confused, innocent expression, his humane form threatening to change into his original form. "What? Why? It's like,-" you look down at your wrist watch, "11:50! And he's bailing out now?", smiling at you in fake sympathy, he replied, "he said he had other things to take care of," "But you said he'd left the place and was on his way here?" you ask, hands on either sides of your hip, "Last minute plan changes" Taeyong shrugs, "Anyways, let's get inside?"

He pointed towards the front door with both his hands, gesturing you to go forward first. And so you do. You offer him a smile before turning your back towards him and making your way towards the old house, the door seemingly open. Climbing up the stairs with caution, humming at the sound of dried leaves crunching up below your feet with each footstep. Taeyong stood behind where you two had introduced yourselves for a few minutes, a few more minutes. "Taeyong? Are you not coming?" you turn around slightly, looking over your shoulder at lad standing still, "Yeah, I'm coming" he replied soullessly, still standing his group until he saw you open the door ajar and then took his first step forward. Not bothering to go too quick.

The insides were simple, very very simple yet magnificent. The flooring seemed to be that of wooden finishing that creaked with each step you took, implying that of how old the infrastructure must be. You look around in awe, clutching at the sling bag that you carried along. You go corner to corner, not bothering to look behind to see if the friendly stranger was hot on your trail, instead seemingly being captivated by the olden time-ish wallpapers and paintings and antique pieces that the wall adorned. Taeyong on the other hand was just growing restless, 4 more minutes until he could play his next victim, he was growing frantic. He did follow you inside, instead opting to walk the opposite direction as you, towards where he'd hidden the paper with your crimson blood and name written on it, contemplating whether to just tear it and carry on proving his existence to the female in the room. 3 more minutes, he bit into his lips, "Taeyong? Look, i found something!" He heard you scream.

Puffing out a breath of frustration, Taeyong replied "Coming!" and he walked out of the room, hands in his pocket towards where you stood by the bottom of the stairs, looking at the lighter in your hand that seemed relatively unused. "I found lighter down here" you look at him with a tiny pout evident on your lips, looking back and forth between the candle and the guy, puzzled. "It must be some thugs who came here to smoke or something" He shrugged it off, taking the lighter out of your hand. It must be you over analyzing things but without a single light turned on in the villa with only your flashlight acting as a source of light, but Taeyong looked even more lifeless than before. Eyes dark ebony and dangerous, somehow intimidating, lips adorning a bright shade of red in contrast to how you saw it the first time, and his aura had seemingly darkened. 2 more minutes. You shake your head and walk up the stairs and towards a room which has it's door wide open. Choosing to lay out your things there, you stretch out a few stiff limbs, "So, me and the boys were planning on doing the midnight game, you know. One of those stupid creepy pastas? I can't believe all of them bailed out on me last minute," you speak particularly to no one in the room, assuming that Taeyong was listening to you, whose ears only perked up at the words midnight and stupid. Midnight. 00:00Am. The devil smirked to himself. Midnight, at last.

"I mean, Yangyang, Jaemin and Haechan came off as no shock to me- they're the other friend's by the way, but Yuta, it's weird for him to at least not let me know." You keep going, scrolling through your phone screen, only for it to load suddenly, No internet access. Sighing, you pull out offline downloads, "Did he tell you anything else? Like if he's feeling unwell or something?" you ask, letting the question float in the air, waiting for a reply. Getting known even after the passing of a few seconds, a minute too maybe, "Taeyong?" you stand up from the bed, well, the bed frame and make your way outside, "Tae?" you look left and right, searching for any moving soul when you feel your phone vibrate in your hands, and the sound of notification resonates through the eerie silence. You look down at the device in your hand, one new message from Yuta san and an immediate black out of the screen. Impossible.

You remembered full well charging your phone to a hundred percent before leaving your dorm. Hell, you even kept it on airplane mode your whole cab ride. Shrugging it off, you keep your phone beside your bag and then proceed to go out to look for your new friend? acquaintance? You didn't even know how to classify him as yet. "Tae, if you're trying to scare me, I'll give you heads up, it doesn't work on me." you chuckle, walking to the room beside the one you were previously lounging in. "It's past midnight and we both seem too uninterested to try out whatever we were supposed to anyways, how about we just head out?" you start, looking down at your wrist watch which displayed 00:09 on the screen in neon green. "I mean, it was stupid enough that my friends and i even decided to try it out knowing it's some made up shit to scare some seven olds, probably" you continue, feeling as though you're talking to the walls at the lack of response. "Taeyong, come on. I'm growing bored."

"Tae-" "You know, the way you logicised made it seem like you're smart enough. It was impressive," you hear his voice, a little too hoarse and plain for your liking, he continued before you could muster up a reply, "But seems like you aren't all that smart after all, seeing how you believed a total stranger and are even ready to spend time with him." you look around the place, only hearing his voice but his figure to be nowhere near you, "Taeyong, what are you talking about?" you head out of the room you currently stood in, jogging to catch his voice.

"It was a little angering you know? The way you spoke about me and my followers, it was disrespectful. And I could've taken you then and there, but what to do. You seemed too cute to take your soul without a small game? Is that what you humans call it?" You feel breathing fanning the nape of your neck and a cold air following it right after, making you turn back, "Your friend got his share of play" you whip your head forward, finally seeing the male in front of you, standing by the door frame of a connective hallway, you swore you felt his presence behind you though. His infamous smirk still adorning his features. Figure a little more towering and intimidating. If you thought he couldn't have seemed more lifeless a few minutes ago, then his appearance now only seemed to prove you wrong. "So it's only fair if you got your part of the play too, right?"

"Taeyong, you're only making your existence weird for me, let's go if you're done." He only tilted his head in amusement, "Oh it's only about to get weirder, darling" You turn back to face a blood red shot eyed male, well, Taeyong, eliciting a gasp from you, you look over your shoulder to see the place where Taeyong stood a blink of eye ago. "How..did-" His chest visibly vibrated from the hearty laugh he let out, "How did I do that?," you step back as his voice dropped even lower, only for you to bump your back into something rigid, something cold, making you let out a yelp as Taeyong seemed to stand still in front of you, "I can do a whole lot of things," you feared turning back, the insides of your stomach hurdling around as whatever was behind you reached their arms up and held you still in a vice grip. "Y/n!" you hear a voice scream from downstairs, "Y/n! Come out! We need to get out of here!" you recognize the voice as that of your friends, Yuta's.

You squirm hard to loosen the person's grip on your shoulder. Once succeeding, you bolt down the stairs, skipping a few steps, tripping now and then but nevertheless making it down without landing face first as you hear Taeyong's laugh thunder throughout the place. You take a turn to reach the front door, where Yuta stood in all his glory. You immediately run into his embrace, ignoring how his body seemed just as cold as the one you felt from whatever Taeyong was, "Y-yuta, he's sick, let's go, we need to go!" you try pulling Yuta's body a little closer to the exit, only for him to stand his ground, wrapping his hands around you even tighter as he caressed your hair, "Oh, Y/n.." your body goes stiff as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, that sounded nothing like your best friend, "Yuta..?"

You try pulling your head away from the nape of his neck to look at him, "No darling, it's 'stupid made up shit''," his body vibrated once again from the laughing against yours, as you feel yourself growing scared each passing second. You try mustering up all your strength to bring it to his sides and push him away when you feel a plush yet cold muscle press against your neck, only for it to go futile. "Still made up for you?" you feel a sharp pang of pain flow through your nerves, result of him biting the skin in a manner far too away from soft, "Taeyon-g- lord--midnight man, whatever you are.. I'm --sorry" you say in a hushed voice, scared that if you voiced out a little louder, he'd pounce at you. You feel him nibble at the soft skin, making you whimper, "Oh no, darling, do not apologize. Your doings really intoxicated me. Kept me entertained for a while."

"But now, it's angering me to know a feeble creature as you kept poking fun at my people. At me. And I want no more than to turn you into something belonging to me. Who'd worship me the way 'my people' do." He whispered against the area, lifting his head up and leaning down, making sure not to let go of his grip on you, "oh no, pretty girls aren't supposed to cry. Tsk tsk, what is this, Y/n" His eyes bore holes onto the crown of your head. "Look at me." he acted on making you look at him faster than you could, "Could you beg for forgiveness? Give me a piece of yourself?" he inched closer to your face, a small snarl escaping his throat at your scared and trembling figure, "Or you could just be my queen and come below with me, and you'd not have to cut down your lifespan"

"Are you turned on by all of this, Y/n? Or is it out of fear?" you let out a shaky breath as the tip of his nose touched yours, "Because i can smell you from here and oh," he let out what sounded like an animalistic growl, "Is it delicious.". "Taeyong, please let me go.. I'm sorry. I really am, just please don't hurt me,-" you let out a whine of pain when you feel his other hand knot his fingers in your locks and pull it back with much aggression, immediately planting his lips onto your trembling once, bearing his fang like teeth into plush flesh to draw out blood, earning a loud high pitched scream from your end as you try your best to push him away, futile once again. His hands tighten their grip at the waist while his other hand pulled your head further back, latching onto the firm skin of your neck, treating it with the same aggression, puncturing through the skin with his teeth as your hands go limp beside your body, nevertheless, letting out a whimper from the harsh treatment, which, in all your defense couldn't be help since you still are a human with all emotion any human would feel, that including lust. You feel his cold lips curve into a smirk against where blood flowed out, lapping it up with his tongue as you feel your vision blacken the more as time went by.

"Oh darling you're no different than me.."

4th November, 19:48Pm, 2020.

"She's awake!!" you blink multiple times to get accustomed to the blaring lights in the room, a comfortable white filling your eyesight. You move your head towards the side to find all your friends sprawled out on each side. A drip connected to your hands making you squint in confusion, "Can you hear us, Y/n?" you feel your shoulders being shaken as jolt, "Hey? Yeah i can hear you, why won't i be able to?" you ask, confusion still laced in your voice, "Because you hadn't responded to us the last time we called you. And because you've been laying dead the past few days" Jaemin spoke up first, earning a smack from his elder brother

"Why didn't you stop when we screamed your name the other day, Y/n? You literally weren't breathing the day we found you" Yangyang inquired and stated, "And why did you leave us all on seen??" Haechan added, "Most of all, where were you even??" Yuta spoke. You hiss at all the questions being thrown at you as you try sitting up by the inclined hospital bed, "Screamed? Didn't respond? I left you on seen? That's highly impossible and where was i??" you stare blankly at the plain wall in front of you, trying to remember any such episode. The more you strained your head, the more clueless you grew. Your throat starts to grow dry so you turn your neck to check if there are any water bottles nearby, only for a sharp pain to flow through your nerves at a particular spot in your throat. You yelp at the sudden pain, "I'll get the doctor," Haechan rushed outside, when you reached out to touch your neck, feeling it with the tips of your finger, feeling in the swollen skin, the dried up blood when it all hit you. Your eyes grow wide as you start shaking, for it to be first noticed by Yuta, "Yuta, that house! The game, it's all real! I saw hi-him, his name! I swear he's real!" growing concerned at your sudden frenzy behavior, Yuta kneeled down beside your bed, holding your non-injected hand giving it a comforting behavior.

"Calm down, angel. Tell me point by point," he encouraged you to take in a long breath, as Haechan rushed in along with the doctor whose face was half covered with a doctor's mask, "Doctor, he-he's probably out for me, you need to get me far away from here! Please" you beg with your eyes stinging with all the tears, "No one's going to get you from here, Ms. Y/n, you're safe here" You pause your frantic actions for a while. That voice sounded a little too familiar for your liking, making you think you're over analyzing everything again. The doctor gestured to your friends to leave you up to him to have a doctor to patient talk. All of your friends nodded in understanding, giving you one last reassuring smile before collectively leaving the room.

The doctor, once after making sure that everyone left, removed his mask to reveal the oh so familiar smirk and the hair protector, rustling the same, familiar bright red hair with the same familiar pale fingers of his. Your eyes widen, mouth falls wide ajar

"Oh wait, there's one last warning, Do not assume that the Midnight Man has left your home for good at the conclusion of the game. I'm for real done now" You laugh at your friend who snatched the phone away from you,

"Pleasure to meet you again, darling"

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littledevil-jpeg · 3 years ago

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Okay, so last post I was giving Lucifer 5B some credit for getting me interested and intrigued about a shitty character, so, as all things should be balanced, here comes the other side of the question. I'll say right off the bat that Lucifer was never a show I took seriously, all at once because of the tone, the way they chose to develop and delve into the themes, the monster-of-the-week format (though also done in spn, there it's redeemed by the darker tone and more subtle theme-development. Obviously, this is S1-S5 I'm talking about) and again the overall way this world works. I've been known to accuse Cobra Kai and even Breaking Bad for coincidence-bending, but they don't even come close to the level of Lucifer here. Then, of course, there's how easy everything is, like a bloody sled on ice: drugs - no problem, kill someone - no problem, infiltrate a mafia group - no fooking problem. How? Well, glaze over that, it's not that important. Except it is. Remember how in that same Breaking Bad Walter's team spent considerable chunks of the show planning, hiding evidence, preparing, measuring little details, diligently covering up their tracks. And they were only involved in a measly drug manufacturing business. Imagine the shit Lucifer runs, with crime bosses, drugs, demons and prostitutes piling out of his front door. Obviously it's a show about angels and demons, and the realism isn't the focus of the program, but still, these things matter. There's always a convenience to it. Like, oh, you need to infiltrate the Russian mafia or some shit? Don't worry, I know a guy - and poof, problem gone. That's not even to mention the universe bending out of shape all around Lucifer, everyone (Chloe especially) putting up with his humiliating bullshit, the fact that he would be kicked out the police in anything even remotely resembling real life, that the mc's get away with almost everything, the unrealistic dialogue that no human irl ever speaks, the second-hand embarrassment, the cheesy "morale" speeches, the dull, predictable cases that are all done by the same formula... and more. So okay, there's a lot, a lot, of problems with this show. Which is why no one really takes it that seriously, we all know it's kind of trashy. But "kind of trashy" is one thing. Now, when season 5 introduces a genuine "evil twin" that we're meant to take with even a bit of seriousness, in the footsteps of such chef d'oeuvres as Dispicable Me 3, when that twin is the most caricature-like villain in recent history, when the allmighty is a buffoon with half a brain, forget omniscient, and isn't even in-line with the stuff he's done before, when one of the main cast is offed as though mid-sentense, with no lead-up, no foreshadowing, no preamble, like a toss of a dice, when the main character is on a race to become God himself, and his love interested Mrs God, and when, oh, Jesus fucking Christ, just stop already! I truly wonder if the writer's room a big dart board with all these drunk-ass ideas stuck onto it, and they blind throw to make the next season. It's finally hitting me now, as I'm writing this, what on god's green earth I watched yesterday.

Why does Lucifer need to become God? Why does a war in Heaven even have to be introduced? Why not focus of the more intricate inter-personal conflicts on Earth, on the characters and their mentalities, on those meaningful arcs that hold actual importance, and emotion, and down-to-earth (lol), well, meaning again. Why do we need a heavenly war? Why does Lucifer need the approval of the angels, when the moral seems to be that he makes himself who he is, not his status, not his people, not his past and not the Silver City (an excellent moral, by the way, so credit where it's due. This self-actualisation business is the second best thing in the whole show)? I get that this is why the majority vote doesn't work, but then what does work? Are they ment to self-actualise into becoming God? Now, I'm aware it's left uncertain whether Luci really is God, so I won't go there for now, but then we have the issue of his resurrection. Was it a reward for self-sacrifice? That wouldn't fit so well, considering all the previous sacrifices that were much more impressive than this one. And what's the philosophy behind that - he's acting out of love? But to what end, if by dying he practically fucked all the other people on Earth, including the very same Chloe he just brough back down? Are these really the qualities for a God to have?

Or did he once again self-actualise, but this time he actualised himself to life? That would truly be a stake-killer. I saw a theory that he finally saw himself as worthy of Heaven, which doesn't quite link to coming back to life. Well, these are perhaps, once again, speculations, and maybe this will be cleared up next season. As for Lucifer's God status, it's a shitty move on the writers' part. Not only was the execution rushed, but thematically, again, Lucifer becoming God to feel worthy of Chloe is nonsense. From a plot and theme standpoint, why does this need to happen? This Godly status holds no meaning, no emotional worth, it's not fullfilling, not symbolic of anything fitting other than that same old "bad to good" and I guess the irony of the Devil becoming God, but the irony is an empty one if it has no real meaning. Which is the case. The whole thing is empty of substance, and I don't know why they went there. You know, it's hollow anyway, not least because Lucifer really doesn't deserve it. Even this season, he is nothing but a child - he acts and thinks like a child, he unchangeably does the same "projecting" bs from season to season to season with no actual sign of emotional maturity other than that in the words of other characters. But you can say he's different all you want, it's not gonna work if the subtle signs of his change aren't there. Say, imagine if Endeavor kept running his mouth about atonement, but kept dutifully abusing his kids - this is that. And yeah, Lucifer loves Chloe in his own way, cares about her, and even comes out of his self-absorbed little world for her, which by the way bugged me about their uneven relationship since season 1 (you know, treating her like shit with a flimsy excuse and then "making up" for it with a grand gesture of sacrifice or a round of angsty suffering. Time after time, every time.)

And finally, of course, there's the issue of how inconsiderate it is to Chloe for him to become God. I mean, it's dead obvious no relationship will be possible there, not without becoming even more unhealthy than it already seems. Themathic significance and meaning aside, even then, even in-universe, it's a shitty thing Lucifer does, again, for himself. So that he feels worthy of Chloe. What she feels, once he's made it his goal to do something, essentially doesn't matter anymore. And the plot fascilitates this splendidly, I mean, she always forgives him without fault like a well-oiled machine. Always, whatever he does, and it's gotten old a long time ago. We know Lucifer can do anything, anything at all, and he will be forgiven - by Chloe, by Maze, by Dan, by Linda, by Amenadiel, by anyone that he needs to forgive him. You'll be lucky if they don't do it the same episode, and extraordinarily lucky if it takes them three or four.

There are many other things to discuss this season, like Dan's ridiculously badly written death, Chloe's whole character stagnation, the, khm, the musical episode, the saturaday morning cartoon villain problem, the fact that Michael manages to descieve an omniscient being, and God himself. I might do those separately, might not, we'll see, as those aren't nearly as interesting to dissect as the above.

Aaaand, anyway, if he is now God, I strongly suspect they'll play the angle of "even though he's God, he stills feels shitty, as true self-love/worth comes from elsewhere" and the usual thing.

#lucifer 5b #lucifer season five #lucifer season 5 #lucifer season six #lucifer #michael demiurgos #michael #lucifans #lucifer netflix #lucifer 5x16 #lucifer 5a #lucifer x chloe #chloe deserves better #chloe decker

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pedros-mustache-main · 4 years ago

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like the movies

summary: he’s the writer; you’re the muse. there’s a cup of coffee somewhere in there, too.

word count: 3.3k+

warnings: fluff & pining—so, a change of pace from my usual angst. :) also: a serious lack of dialogue because i am feeling verbose.

a/n: this is entirely @joemazzmatazz‘s fault. it was her idea (albeit given to me actual ages ago), but she said “do it” and who am i to say no? anywho, i’m relatively uncertain about how this turned out, but have it regardless!

your latte is hot, almost too hot. it burns your tongue on the first sip.

but you welcome the heat and the momentary burst of pain. the weather swirling outside borders on atrocious: freezing rain mixed with snow flurries, bloated, gray clouds, and a thin layer of ice on all surfaces. though the tip of your tongue stings upon that first sip, the heat that rushes to your chest pushes away the dreary weather you’d slogged through to get to the coffee shop.

you’re a regular here. not a regular regular, but regular enough that the interchangeable baristas recognize you and you recognize them. you exchange tight-lipped smiles and nods of greeting when you approach the counter, but nothing more than simple pleasantries. you don’t know their names, and they never ask for yours, but they remember your order: frosted blueberry latte with extra foam. it’s gotten to the point where you can simply walk up to the counter, money in hand, and the barista can repeat your order before you open your mouth.

it’s the little things, you suppose. in this little corner of the world, you feel seen.

today, you have your laptop open, latte pushed to the side, and a cherry and almond scone on a bright blue plate. you resist the urge to pull your foot up on the chair and rest your chin on your knee. though you’re here more often than you’re at home, this isn’t your living room. you settle for sliding your ankle beneath your opposite thigh.

being a paralegal is decidedly unglamorous. sure, it sounds highfalutin to the person sitting beside you on the airplane, but damn, if it isn’t stressful. you feel like a glorified secretary most of the time. pushing papers and getting signatures and making tens of phone calls to people and places that are not interested in speaking to a lawyer isn’t really what you signed up for. at least, it’s not what you ultimately want. it pays the bills for now, though; a partnership… that’ll come later.

you’re lucky enough that you can work remotely, hence your sturdy corner of the café. from where you sit, you watch customers enter and exit the shop. each time the door opens and the little bell tinkles above, a blast of cold air rushes into the cramped space. you enjoy watching the reaction of newcomer—the way they stamp their snow-covered shoes on the wood floor and shiver, turn to their companions with a smile, hurry to the counter to order something sweet and warm. in those moments, you grow wistful, your heart lurching with loneliness. it’s been a long time since you’ve had anyone to meet for an afternoon coffee date, friend or otherwise. your job doesn’t afford much downtime, and what downtime you do have is devoted to menial life responsibilities.

your phone buzzes, and you glance down. a text from your boss. time to refocus.

you work for a while longer, nibbling on your scone, sipping from your latte. the emails pile up, and your phone buzzes incessantly. a headache forms at the base of your skull as you struggle to keep up with the constant flurry of communication.

after receiving a terse email from your boss’s legal partner in relation to something that is no fault of your own, you shut your laptop. a five-minute break; you deserve that much. rubbing a hand down your weary face, you grab your purse, slide out from behind the table, and head for the restroom. in the poorly lit bathroom, you splash some cool water on your cheeks and sigh at your reflection in the mirror. you look tired, feel it too. the dark bags under your eyes bely how little sleep you’ve gotten in the last week, and your shoulders droop under the weight of the world. maybe by christmas…

who are you kidding? christmas is just as busy as any other time of the year. people don’t stop needing lawyers just ‘cause it’s the holidays.

when you return to your makeshift workspace, you immediately frown. you freeze several paces from the corner of the table and glance over your shoulder, tightening your grip on the strap of your purse.

someone had been at the table in the five minutes it took to freshen up.

nothing is gone, thank god. (in retrospect, you probably shouldn’t have left your laptop and phone sitting in plain sight. call it naivety, but you like to think the best of people. however, your line of work consistently reminds you that the bad in people often outweighs the good.) your laptop, though, has been nudged to the side, the movement causing the charging cord to fall out. several drops of dark liquid—spilled latte—dampen the corner of your yellow legal pad.

what truly catches you eye is the square piece of paper resting on your laptop’s keyboard like a discarded feather.

you look over your shoulder again, but the shop is largely empty save for the baristas and an older couple in the far corner. the weather is certainly a deterrent from lingering. perhaps someone had come in while you were in the bathroom and left you a note. had your car been hit? you hope not. you don’t have the extra funds for vehicular maintenance right now and even less time to fix whatever damage had been done.

leaning forward, you lift the piece of paper, and your chest tightens.

it’s a drawing—a drawing of you. blue ink scattered across the page in swirling lines forms the hazy outline of your profile. your chin rests in your hand, and the artist made certain note to emphasize your eyelashes, which are not that long in actuality. at the bottom of the page, a message in curling script: when you are old — yeats

your mouth runs dry, your palms moist with nerves. returning to your chair, you quickly type the words into the search bar of your browser. you remember enough from high-school english to know yeats is a poet, but when the poem loads and you read the words, you feel like you might fall over.

your neck snaps up, cracks at the sudden movement. someone had been here in the café long enough to watch you, to sketch you, and to think of the yeats poem in relation to you.

how decidedly… romantic. like something out of a chick-flick.

despite the warmth in your chest, you shut your laptop, fold the sketch, and shove it in your coat pocket, willing yourself to forget the random happenstance. things like that—serendipitous moments of romance—only happen in the movies. they certainly don’t happen to you.

whomever had left the note, well—at least they’d brightened your day. your mother would call it a gift from the heavens, an angel smiling down on you.

shaking your head, you gather your things and hurry out into the cold, wintery weather. you refuse to allow yourself to go home and daydream. you could use the note as a bookmark, sure, but there was no use in dreaming about the artist. no use whatsoever when you would likely never cross paths again.

except you do go home and daydream. why you ever thought you could keep yourself from mulling over a moment rife with potential is ridiculous.

all throughout the evening—as you make your stir-fry dinner, as you draw your bath, as you change the sheets on your bed, and fold the laundry—you consider the possibilities:

you’d been at the café for a handful of hours, but how much had you truly paid attention to the patrons coming and going? barely, if you’re honest with yourself. you had noticed the older couple when they came in; you’d wondered how they’d managed to get from the parking lot to the warmth of the coffee shop without slipping on the icy sidewalks. you’d noticed, too, a man who looked a lot like how you imagine paul bunyan: massive height, plaid shirt stuffed in worn jeans, impressive beard. no one else of note sticks out in your mind hours later.

what had you been doing all afternoon? hopefully you hadn’t done anything embarrassing. god, sometimes you have this habit of resting your fingers over your mouth in such a way that it pushes up your nose to resemble a pig’s snout. had you done that? sometimes you fiddle with your hair too much and bounce your knees and hum to yourself. you want to sink below the suds of your bathwater when you recall your propensity for talking to yourself.

your thoughts turn fanciful when you finally slip beneath your covers.

maybe the artist is like tom hanks in “you’ve got mail.” only instead of emails, you could exchange notes in a coffee shop and forgo the business rivalry part.

maybe the artist is like tom hanks in “sleepless in seattle”: soft and sweet and really good with kids.

maybe you just have a thing for tom hanks.

you turn your head with a girlish grin, tucking your lower lip between your teeth.

you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t daydream, but how could you not? yeats’s poem filters through your mind like the moon filtering through your curtains: how many loved your moments of glad grace, and loved your beauty with love false or true, but one man loved the pilgrim soul in you and loved the sorrows of your changing face.

with a muffled squeal, you allow yourself a moment to thrash in delight—like a schoolgirl with a crush and a note checked yes i like you tucked beneath her pillow. the idea that someone somewhere notices you, of all people, is simply too much to bear. you feel like your heart will explode and sunbeams will burst from beneath your skin. you feel warm and happy and drunk on possibility.

you settle, then, and sigh, smoothing your hands over the rumpled comforter. you’re a professional, though. a paralegal, for god’s sake. you’ll go back to the café. maybe not tomorrow, but you’ll go back. just maybe—maybe, maybe, maybe—you’ll run into your artist again.

you return to the coffee shop in two days, lugging your over-stuffed bag with you, earbuds snug in your ears. when you cross the threshold, you can’t help the way your eyes immediately scan the customers who have parked themselves in the various sitting areas. you’re looking for your artist, obviously, but you have nothing to go on other than the note tucked away in your jewelry box at home. a few words, a carefully drawn profile—that’s not enough to determine who had created the note from a simple glance.

begrudgingly, you remind yourself once again that life isn’t a movie. there’s no tom hanks waiting for you on the other end of the note. it’s silly to dwell on it any longer, really. you’ll get too wrapped up, too attached, and that wouldn’t bode well for the upcoming holidays.

the table you usually occupy is already taken by a man in a red sweater. his head is bent over his laptop, glasses slipping down his strong nose. you try not to take it to heart; the table was never explicitly yours. with a soft grunt of effort, you drop your belongings in an orange armchair across the room before meandering to the counter. julie (at least, you think that’s her name?) smiles when you approach, and she rings up your order, asking about the weather and plans for the holidays.

once your coffee is in hand, you return to your new seat and relax in the accommodating plush armchair. maybe the man in the red sweater had done you a favor after all. you glance up to look at him. if he stays as long as you often do, his ass will ache by the time he leaves. the wood chairs offer zilch in the way of comfort.

you quickly lose yourself in work, but the idea that your artist could be in the same room as you never truly leaves your mind. you find yourself glancing about the room from time to time, studying those who come and go, wondering if perhaps they were the one who saw something worthwhile in you. no one catches you eye; everyone is too busy with their own affairs, and you don’t blame them.

by the end of the afternoon, you find your latte completely and utterly forgotten. it’s cold when you take a tentative sip, and you sigh. maybe not five dollars wasted, but five dollars you had meant for a hot drink, especially considering the cold weather. rising from your seat, you take the latte to the counter and ask the barista to pour your drink in a to-go cup with some ice. might as well make the best of it, and you don’t like things to go to waste.

when you return to your chair, you nearly drop the plastic cup.

another note.

“holy shit,” you breathe. instinctively, your palm tightens around your cup, and the plastic gives a small crack. you wince and double-check to make sure no leaks have sprung before picking up the folded piece of paper on your messenger bag.

your fingers tremble as you flip open the folded note.

the same blue ink, same hurried penmanship. no drawing this time; only words.

she sat, much as i did, working fervently. i couldn’t help but watch, and maybe that made me a creep, but i’d been called worse. she sat with an heir of regality, her chin held firm, eyes dancing about the room like she owned the place. not haughty or self-possessed. just sure of herself. what did that make me then? alone in my corner? i didn’t like to dwell too long, so i—

the words stop in time with the seize of your heart.

you can’t seem to look away, to look around the room again in search of your artist, your writer. your heart pounds in your chest, flush rising on your cheeks. eyes—you feel eyes on you whether they are present or not. you feel dizzy. never have you felt so… seen, so noticed. not even in past relationships have your boyfriends took such care to notice the minute details of your being.

the strange urge to vomit rises in your throat. you aren’t afraid; you aren’t creeped out.

you’re just… overwhelmed.

so, you tuck the note in your pocket and leave, careful to keep your gaze on the floor as you exit. just in case your writer is still there, still watching.

you’re nothing special, nothing like the paragraph they penned. they should get that through their thick skull before they find themselves disappointed.

you don’t return to the coffee shop until after the holidays.

it’s not that hard to stay away. the hustle and bustle of work combined with the hustle and bustle of family gatherings keeps you from finding the time for an afternoon of solace anywhere, let alone the café.

you must admit that you think of your author often, try as you might to forget them.

by now, you have the cadence of the yeats poem memorized and the prose of the paragraph tattooed on the front of your mind. each time you pass a couple in a warm embrace, you wonder what became of your writer. you wonder if they think of you as much as you think of them; if they ruminate over the possibility of a life that cannot be.

if this were a movie, you would run into your author by random happenstance. you’d bump into them at the market, spill your legumes on the floor, touch hands in your haste to right the mistake, and—boom—as you look up, it would all fall into place.

if this were a movie, you would see them in the library or the post office or the deli or—

—or the coffee shop.

you sigh as you enter the café, wishing for your author to be there, knowing they won’t be. it is enough that you’ve experienced two mysterious love notes; things like that don’t come in threes.

that’s only in the movies.

the café still has its holiday decorations up. twinkle lights hang draped across the ceiling, and music filters over the sparsely filled tables and chairs. in the post-holiday haze, you didn’t expect the café to be crowded. in all truth, the sight of few patrons eases your mind.

less of a chance to run into your author. less of a chance to reveal yourself as the decidedly uninteresting person you are.

you set your belongings down at a side table, and as you reach for your wallet, a presence hovers over your shoulder. frowning slightly, you straighten, prepared to ask the person to kindly give you some space. when you do turn, your heart leaps to your throat, and the wallet in your hand clatters to the table.

it’s your author. you just know it.

there’s something vaguely familiar about the man, about his strong nose and groomed facial hair and crystal eyes. he’s tall, warm looking, like a hot drink on a cold day or a crackling fire. his eyes scan your face as though he is worried, as though he’s uncertain of what he should do now that you’ve actually faced him.

you speak before your thoughts catch up with your heart. “you wrote those notes, didn’t you?”

he nods, and the movement—so gentle, so reminiscent of a small boy on the verge of a scolding—makes you love him all the more. “yeah.” he sighs, lifts a hand to rub the back of his neck. “yeah, sorry about that. i wanted to apologize. wasn’t sure i’d get the chance, if you’d come back again.”

you shake your head. “no, don’t apologize. please don’t apologize.”

it’s his turn to frown, and he looks up from the table. you lose your breath momentarily. god, his eyes are blue. “when you left last time i thought… well, i thought i’d scared you off.” with a rueful chuckle, he shoves his hands in his pockets. “would serve me right, too.”

“why do you say that?”

“i mean, notes on your laptop when you aren’t looking? intently watching you? kinda stalkerish, huh?”

you can’t help but smile—smile at him, at the nervous twitch of his mouth, at the way he avoids your gaze. “i guess.” on a daring move, you reach out and touch his elbow. when you touch him, he feels like home. “but i don’t want you to apologize. i like the notes. i haven’t thought about anything else since you gave me the first one.”

“really?” there’s a hopeful tone in his voice; it sets your heart on fire.

“yeah.”

“i’m writing a book—a novel, really. i saw you so often that any time i got stuck, i just wrote about you instead.”

you could kiss him then and there. instead, you tell him your name, and he grins.

“i’m gwilym.”

“tell me, gwilym.” you pull out your chair and motion to the café counter. “how would you feel if i bought you a coffee? i want to hear more about that novel.”

“i’d—i’d like that.”

he follows you to the counter, his hand brushing the small of your back.

the barista—matt, you think—looks up from the register and laughs. “holy shit, i won!” he looks over his shoulder. “hey, julie! you owe me a fifty.”

you glance at gwilym, but he’s already looking at you. you smile.

matt continues. “we had a pool to see how long it would take for you two to get together. you were always looking at each other but never at the same time. you knew that, right?” still laughing, he rings up your orders without be asked. “coffee is on us today, guys.”

as you wait for your latte to be steamed and gwilym’s chia to be poured, you tuck your lip between your teeth to stem your widening grin. gwilym is strong by your side, the perfect height for you to rest your head on his shoulder. you look up at him, at the noble planes of his face, and your chest squeezes. when he looks at you again, your chest squeezes even tighter.

maybe life is like a movie after all.

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee imagine #bohemian rhapsody #j writes

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namgee · 4 years ago

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implications | knj

❥pairing: Namjoon x Reader (f) ❥genre: fluff, slice of life (pg) ❥word count: 2.3k ❥summary: The adventurer life isn’t for you. You like your routines and you stick to them, but a small mess-up finally forces you beyond your desired level of social interaction as you rely on a stranger. A stranger whose actions and words imply things you wish to explore. ❥warnings: none ❥a/n: this was just a quick little thing I wrote a few days ago before I got started on another smut fic which should come out in about a week 😋 ^^ I did a quick proofread so sorry for any mistakes 😣

A silence that sounds with turning pages, graphite scraping against thick paper and the ever present hums that arise from thought. Your ears anticipate it even before you're there. It’s, for the most part, the same soundscape you’ve grown accustomed to since you started visiting the art atelier. Well, the building technically has multiple ateliers, whatever your artistic interest, for a reasonable fee each month, you can visit the space and use their resources. Each floor focuses on certain subject areas, people are allowed to move around and work wherever they want. Like a Google workspace except for the arts.

You usually stick to the 4th floor, where most of the graphics tools are. The elevator dings, you step away from the metallic box and towards the senior part-time receptionist, Diane, who gives unsolicited artistic advice under the guise that old age equates to prowess in art criticism. The advice isn’t half as bad as you expected still, you rarely take it. You place your folder on the desk giving her a smile, teeth barely visible, it’s the best iteration of ‘a lady should always smile when talking to others’ smile you can muster with your lips chapped from the borderline glacial air you had to walk through this afternoon.

“Well, hello young lady! You haven’t visited the establishment in a while. Mateo has been asking about you actually.”

Mateo is the head of the graphic art department who you might or might not like, there’s still a few weeks left for you to decide. Your roommate, Jovian, had given you the ultimatum, “You have until you finish whatever creature you’re trying to collage together this time around,” she had said waving her half painted stiletto nail around before diverting her attention to another girl who also seemed to be having a hard time choosing as her family and in laws attempted to decide for her. On one thing you were sure, you would have said no to the dress she had on.

“There we have it! That’s a much better smile that one you gave before. It’s always best to show some teeth,” Diane says, her two row of teeth (some of which look awfully fake) in full display.

“I’ll sure think about it next time Diane. I’m just here to check in right now,” you sigh, removing your decaying gloves which have lost their purpose, your fingers are about as stale as Diane’s as you fish around for your membership card in your wallet.

“The time please darling.”

“3pm to 8pm,” you say blowing warm air into your palms.

It takes a few minutes for her to find your name in the system. “Oh sweetheart, it seems someone else already took your spot.”

“Exactly how did they take my spot?”

“Hmmm,” Diane’s eyes lift upwards as she tries to find an answer in the air, “to be quite frank with you I do not know.” She sounds shocked that she doesn’t know something.

“Uh, excuse me?” Someone questions from behind you. You both turn towards the voice coming from a golden haired man sporting what is most likely the best variant of the fully toothed lady smile Diane advocates for. To make matters even better it’s shaped like a heart. “I believe that I was the one who took the spot.” he giggles nervously as if caught red-handed before sliding his own card onto the desk.

You assume he’s here to work with graphics for some sort of fashion related purpose, in fact he sort of looks like the graphics plastered around the building: colourful, bold, warm but still a bit overwhelming.

“You’re indeed the one who booked the slot first, young man.”

“I believe that this is what the trainer for my position was referring to as a glitch in the system.” Diane says with an air of pride.

“Hm, sorry about that,” The human embodiment of a colour wheel says with an apologetic pout.

“Oh, don’t worry I’m sure I can find another place, it isn’t your fault,” you wave your hand around giving him your second or third genuine smile of the day. He mumbles a shy ‘okay’ before heading right, away from you.

“Can you see if there’s any place on the other floors?” You reluctantly ask, after all you had never gone to other floors unless it was to buy snacks because the queues on the 4th floor were too long or to find unoccupied bathrooms.

Diane finds you an opening for the floor above. You thank her and move back to catch the elevator doors right before they close, swiftly slipping in towards a surprised figure, a big figure. You mumble a quick apology after bumping into him. When you turn your head to look at him he gives you what you assume to be his own equivalent of the barely noticeable smile you gave Diane a few minutes ago.

The ride takes a few seconds. You rush out the second the opening of the doors is big enough for you slip past if you just take a deep breath in. Another second goes by where you feel disoriented. The floor layout is not that different from the one beneath but the place looks far more cramped than what you expected. Don’t writers like to be alone? In their own space?

You watch as Mr. Big gives yet another one of his glances, you haven’t figured out how to describe them yet, you don’t know if you’re being judged or just being perceived or whatever it is that writers do.

He goes to the right, so you take the other way. You peruse the space for a place you could sit down to work on your project. Somehow, the writers with their notebooks and laptops seem stingy about letting you settle down despite how packed the floor already is.

For every glance you take at a potential working spot you receive three glances and these ones you know to be of the judgy kind. You walk and walk only to end up on square one. Just to make sure, you do another round and another one as if you were in a full parking lot waiting for one of the cars to magically pull out for you to get a place. By your third tentative walk, the one where you put the most effort to seem approachable and nice, someone takes pity on you.

It seems it’s not only his stature that is big but so is his heart.

“Oh god, thank you!” You sigh, sliding into Mr. Big’s little corner which faces backwards from the café.

“It was starting to look... sad.” He gives you a brief look before focusing back on his laptop screen.

“It wouldn’t have been, if you writers were more welcoming,” you scoff, shrugging off your jacket, the rustling brings your actions to his focus.

A delicate slender hand pushes against his glasses as he leans back, “You’re quite the daredevil, huh?”

“What? Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, slipping past closing elevator doors and sitting down to probably do something noisy with a lot of... “ He takes a look at your stash of materials, “things while surrounded by silence seeking writers. Those things make me say that.”

“That’s a very boring view on action. Also the concept of this building is literally to allow anyone to work anywhere.”

“Sure, you’re right but just because that’s their goal doesn’t mean it turns out that way. This place is no different from high school, certain spaces have been sort of ‘claimed’.”

“And you expect me to act like a good teenage girl and not start trouble?”

“Your words, not mine.”

“Aren’t you a writer? You should know certain words can imply certain things,” you say matter of factly and receive a disjointed but delightful laugh as his hand fists to cover his wide smile.

“Anything else you know about writers that you would like to share?”

“You might end up making a character out of me, or a scene out of my situation.” You’re playing on stereotypes but for all you know they could be true. You lay out your material on the table forcing him to scoot a bit. He doesn’t protest and you appreciate that, so you give me a genuine tight lipped ‘thank you’ smile.

“So what are you doing?” He asks, lowering his computer screen a bit.

“A collage.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t really know yet. I’m just figuring it out as I go.” You stare at the big pile of magazines, newspapers and flyers you managed to collect over the past month. Something has to come out of it. “What about you?”

“Pretty similar actually, I just came here to write, figuring it out as I go you know.” He picks up a piece of paper nearest to him, a green flyer. “Do you even know what it says?” He holds it up to you. The text is in Arabic.

“No, I don’t.”

“Wouldn’t you want to know? I mean the work will be tied to you.” He questions.

“It doesn't matter, it’s not like anyone will see this,” you mumble, snatching the flyer from him.

“Someone should, I don’t know much about collages, actually I know nothing, but I like what I see so far.”

“What exactly do you see?” You probe.

“Ummm… uhhhh… it’s– there’s branches and,” he leans over to get a better look and hesitates “tentacles? Okay, so maybe I don’t know what it is, but I still stand by it. It’s nice to look at.”

“Would you give it as a gift to someone?” You probe even further.

“You know what, I’m just trying to tell you I like it. Like I would totally buy it! So yes, I would give it to someone, myself!” He has an overly cheery voice that encourages more glances your way. The more you look, the more you start thinking they’re watching you and not judging.

“How much?”

He gives you an incredulous expression, he seems both intrigued and confused with behaviour.

You snort a short laugh, “I’m just messing with you. But don’t get me wrong if you do want to buy it then I’m definitely taking offers.”

At that he retreats back into himself and his silence to focus on the blank document page. You shrug it away, you knew his words were too good to be true.

The two of you work in relative silence, your ripping and cutting does add a bit of a soundtrack for the period of time. After an hour or so of working, you move to buy a cinnamon bun, and while you’re at it you buy a second one. You did feel a bit apologetic for disturbing his workspace, you of all people should know.

You place his plate beside him but he’s too engrossed into his writing to provide any response. He does finally whisper a shy ‘thanks’ once he lifts his gaze from the screen. You answer with a nonchalant but truthful ‘no biggie’.

The hours bleed into themselves and soon enough your allocated time is about to run out. You’re quite used to that routine,packing up your material well in time to leave. However, the man in front of you doesn’t seem to have a good grasp of time. Last minute, he hurries to assemble his belongings, swiftly turning around to check that he hasn’t left anything behind, almost knocking down the plate that you manage to catch.

Your elevator ride to the bottom floor is as silent as the one you had earlier. You walk with synchronised strides somehow following the same way after you leave the building. You’re sure one of you is following the other, but as long as you’re concerned you’re taking the way back home. You walk in silence for a few more minutes before you think of asking him where he lives, just to make sure but he beats you to speaking.

“So uhhh, would–” he starts off in a high pitched voice which he masks with a cough, “I meant, would you like to grab a coffee?”

“At 8pm?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Or a drink?” He suggests.

“What does coffee or a drink mean?”

“I thought you were good at getting the implications of certain words.” He smirks, which seems out of character, but then again you don’t know him. You’re just curious about something first.

“What did you end up writing?”

“A short story about an avid museum visitor that discovers a collage at an exhibition that has him intrigued.” He chuckles knowing very well it just proves your point. And you smile satisfied to have finally figured out what that particular glance of his meant. He was just taking you in.

“It’s Y/N by the way,” you would have reached out your hand towards him but they’re cold so you compensate with a warm smile Diane would approve of. “And I wouldn’t mind a drink right now.”

“I’m Namjoon and I’m very happy you said that” He punctuates his excitement with a dimple. The same one you would come to grow enamoured with, so much you would make a collage piece out of all the pictures you’ve taken where it is present. In return, he would, just as he did today, unconsciously and deliberately write your works into his stories, and welcome you into his space.

“By the way, when you let me sit with you in your space, were you claiming me then?” You ask out of curiosity and urge to mess with him.

“I– I don’t know what you’re implying. But if you mean me taking pity on you then yes.” You scoff a bit too loud at his response. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to whatever it is you have in mind,” He says, looking down at your quizzical expression with warm eyes and a restrained laugh as he walks closer to you. It seems you’re not the only one who’s good with implications.

thank you for reading my fic, i hope you enjoyed it 🥺 any feedback or comment is welcomed !!

#namjoon #kim namjoon #ficswithluv #bangtanhq #houseofddaeng #bts fluff #bts #btsfanfic #bts fanfiction #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon fanfic #slice of life #mine #namgee

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