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disturbedbydesign · 2 years

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Take Me Home - Part 8

PAIRING: Dennis Baker x Reader

SUMMARY: It’s been nearly a year since your ex-boyfriend dumped you and left you with a laundry list of insecurities, and you haven’t been able to really put yourself out there since. But when Dennis shows up at the adoption fair you’re running for your job at the animal shelter, there’s just something about him that makes you feel like you’re ready to try again.

WORD COUNT: 5.3K

WARNINGS (more to come): Body Issues (Dennis and Reader), References to Past Animal Abuse, Emotionally Abusive Exes (Dennis and Reader), Mention of Past Domestic Violence (Dennis’s Evil Ex), Dry Humping/Thigh Riding, Two Idiots In Love Making Out In A Car, Oral (M Receiving), Titjob, Cum Play, Fingering. 18+ only, no minors.

TAGLIST: @littlelioncub43, @filthy-gorgeous, @whatinthestyles, @justile, @mazarinqueen, @valhalla-kristin, @elrw24, @janaev4ns, @ysmmsy

*Taglist is open to 18+ readers (no blank blogs) who comment, reblog, and/or chat with me via asks. If you just want to read lowkey, that’s cool and you do you, but the taglist is reserved for the lovely people who want to interact with me and my story :)

Series Masterlist

Part Eight

Dennis sleeps better than he’s slept in years. Instead of waking up groggy and resistant to leave bed, he’s actually got energy—that ready-to-greet-the-day pep in his step that’s always annoyed him when he sees it in movies or on tv. It never seemed realistic to be excited for a new day. For Dennis, for a long time, all the days have been the same, bleeding into one another—some of them horrible beyond words, others just an endless stretch of nothingness. There was never anything to be enthusiastic about; there were only ever things to fear. But he gets it now. Because of you, he feels like the day ahead is filled with promise.

Of course, Jax has helped with those feelings, too. With Jax, Dennis’s days have structure and he never has to be alone. Normally on a Sunday morning like today, he would have to force himself to get up and get out of the house to go for a run or a hike. Even though he actually enjoys those things once he starts doing them, there was always that inertia keeping him in bed too long or holding him down on the couch. But today—waking up to Jax licking his face, his mind swimming in memories of you—he can’t wait to get up and out and take Jax to the park. Everything seems greener as he jogs the trail with Jax at his side. Even the birdsong seems louder and more melodious than usual. When people pass him in the opposite direction, he smiles back instead of looking away. He would say he feels normal again, but this was never his normal.

Even though they got an early start, by the time they get to the middle of the trail the summer heat is starting to get oppressive. Dennis’s t-shirt is soaked with sweat and clinging to his body, and he stops to take a drink of water and give some to Jax who is happily panting away at his feet. He takes a few big gulps and Dennis thinks it’s probably smarter to cut the hike short given the heat, but as he goes to lead Jax back down the trail the way they came, he starts to pull in the opposite direction.

When Dennis turns, he sees what’s caught Jax’s eye: another German Shepherd who is also pulling at the leash to meet a new friend. The other dog is strong, and the woman holding him loses her grip and stumbles over a branch onto the ground. As Jax and his new friend greet each other with a few butt sniffs, Dennis grabs the other dog’s leash and pulls the both of them toward the woman to help her up.

“You okay?” he asks as she takes his hand and hoists herself up.

“Yeah,” she replies, taking the leash from his hand. “Mickey’s only six months old but he’s already way too strong for me!”

Dennis is focused on the dogs playing together but he can feel the woman’s eyes on him, expecting him to say something—the kind of small talk he’s never quite grasped. He gives her a half-smile because he doesn’t want to be rude.

“They seem to be getting along,” she says. “I’ve had him in puppy socialization classes but he hasn’t really been around older dogs much. How old is yours?”

“Jax is about 4,” Dennis replies, much better at answering questions than coming up with something to talk about. “He’s a rescue so we don’t know his exact age, but that’s what the vet thought.”

“I’m Stacey, by the way,” she says, reaching her hand out.

He takes it and gives it a shake. “Dennis.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dennis.”

Dennis is happy to see Jax make a new friend and he watches the two dogs wrestle around with each other as Stacey babbles away, telling him all about her last dog who passed and how she thought maybe it was too soon to get another but that she was just so lonely without one.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I feel like I’ve been talking forever and I haven’t let you get a word in.”

“That’s ok,” Dennis replies, but he doesn’t know what else to say.

“I think they really like each other,” Stacey says. “Here, why don’t you take my number and maybe they can have a playdate sometime.”

Dennis doesn’t want to take it but It feels awkward not to and she’s already got his phone out of his hands anyway, putting her number in and sending herself a text.

“There,” she says, “now I’ve got yours, too. Well, I’ve gotta get back home, but it was really nice meeting you. Hope we can get the dogs together soon! Come on, Mickey.”

She’s off down the trail before Dennis has a chance to say anything. And what would he have even said? It’s not like she asked him out. She just wants a playmate for her dog. It doesn’t mean anything. Dennis has no intention of texting her or calling her or making plans with her. You’re the only one he wants to spend time with, and he wouldn’t want you to think he’s just going around getting women’s numbers. He deletes Stacey’s contact from his phone and puts it back in his pocket. She doesn’t need to know. No need to be rude.

All thoughts of Stacey are gone from Dennis’s head by the time he gets back to his car and gets a text from you.

Y: Hey! I’m at work. Just wanted to check and see if you still want to come over later.

D: Of course I do. Should I make dinner reservations? Someplace nice? My treat.

Y: Sounds good. Mal loves a free dinner. Why don’t you come over around 6 and you can meet Badger and then we can go to dinner after.

D: Perfect.

Y: Just a reminder that Badger can be a little standoffish with men so don’t take it personally. He might have to warm up to you a little before he acts like himself but he’s a sweetheart once he feels comfortable.

D: I’ll be patient.

Y: Ok. Gotta get back to it. I’ll see you at 6.

You sign off with a heart and a kiss emoji and he can’t wait to feel your lips on his again. It’s all he’s going to think about all day—well, that and the fact that he’s meeting your best friend and he’s terrified she’s going to find him lacking. You’d promised him that he had nothing to worry about, but he can’t help it. This is new territory for Dennis and he wonders what kind of questions she’s going to ask him and if he’ll be able to answer them.

He wonders, too, how much you’ve already told her about him—if she knows all about his history. Dennis doesn’t think you would share everything with her, but the fact is that he doesn’t know. Maybe you did tell her and swore her to secrecy. It makes him uncomfortable to think about it—you sharing his deepest insecurities and fears with someone else—but he tells himself you wouldn’t do that… would you?

***

You smile at your phone as you put it down on your desk. It seems like ages since you’ve seen Dennis but you’ve only been at work for a few hours. You wonder briefly if this is normal—this insane need to be around him 24/7 and to miss him when you’ve barely even been apart. It’s all just so new, these feelings. You can’t remember ever feeling this way about someone, not even Brad at the beginning when things were fun and exciting. You’re lost in your thoughts about the night before when Jack comes into your office. He’s holding Lily, his favorite little Chihuahua, and he’s got a sheen of sweat on him and terror in his eyes.

“I need your help,” he says, and you feel a panic rising beneath your skin.

“What’s wrong? Is Lily ok?”

You rush over to him and give her a once over but you see nothing but her tiny smiling face with her tongue poking out.

“Can you hold her?” he asks, and you take all four pounds of her into your hand.

“Jack, what the fuck?” you ask. “What’s going on?”

He pulls a little black box out of his pocket and opens it with a sheepish smile, and you gasp when you see it. The ring is modest but absolutely gorgeous—a vintage art deco style that you know Betsy is going to love.

“I wanna tie it to her collar,” he says, “and my fucking hands won’t stop shaking.”

“OK, that’s adorable. I’m so excited. Does she know?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“I mean, she knows but she doesn’t know it’s today. Fuck, what if she says no?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” you reply, holding Lily still so he can slip the ring onto the ribbon and secure it to her collar. “In no universe does she say no. And that ring is amazing.”

“It was my grandmother’s. I hope she likes it.”

“She is going to love it, and if she doesn’t, I’m stealing it. So how are we doing this?”

“I was gonna bring Lil over to the desk and ask her to check her neck for a tick.”

“I love it,” you say. “I love all of this. I wish you’d told me sooner. I would have gotten a cake or something. I can run to the cafe real quick if you want and get some cupcakes.”

“No,” he says. “That feels like a jinx.”

You roll your eyes. “Jack, you guys have been together forever. Do you honestly think she’d say no?”

He takes a beat to think about it and smiles that goofy little boy smile of his. “I guess not,” he says. “I’m just… I’m excited. I just want to spend the rest of my life with her. I would marry her today if she wanted to.”

You feel a pang of something then, though you can’t say what it is, and when the tears starts welling up in your eyes you stomp your foot and say, “Dammit.”

“Shit,” he says. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” you reply, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I’m just happy for you.”

And you are. You really really are. They are happy tears for sure, but you can’t help but wish it was you—that you were where they are instead of at the very beginning of something, wanting desperately for it to be more. And then there’s the other bit, because when you look at Jack, absolutely frazzled with nerves and excitement to make Betsy his wife, you think about Dennis—how, at one time, this was him. You wonder how he proposed to Karen, if it was some adorable elaborate thing he was this excited about. You know in your heart that it was, and you also know she didn’t appreciate it, that she never appreciated him or anything he did for her.

It pisses you off that she got to be married to him for all that time and took his love for granted. It pisses you off that he wasted so many years on her, that he wasted marriage on her when she never deserved it (or him) to begin with. You never thought you were the kind of girl who was desperate for a guy to put a ring on it—who would be filled with jealousy at someone else’s proposal—but here you are, filled with envy as Jack makes the final touches on the ribbon bow.

You can’t help hearing those words in your head—desperate, needy, clingy, crazy—and that’s exactly how you feel right now, like maybe Brad was right. But then you feel a single cramp shoot across your side and you realize you’re probably just pre-menstrual and hormonal. But that doesn’t stop you from sobbing like a lost child when Jack proposes and Betsy says yes, or from spending the rest of your day at work lost in thoughts of your own dream wedding as Betsy talks to you about their plans.

“I just want something simple,” she says. “None of this whole wedding industrial complex bullshit with months and months of planning and tons of money spent on one day. I want to do it soon. Like, maybe in the next few weeks just go to the courthouse and have a little party in our backyard or something. I just want to be married to him, you know?”

You’re so in your own head that you barely realize she’s waiting for a response from you. “Yeah,” you say, “I totally get it.”

And you do—part of you does, because (as insane as it makes you feel), if Dennis showed up today with a ring and asked you to be his wife, you know you’d say yes. You haven’t even said those three little words to each other yet but you already know you want to be his forever, that you already are his and he just doesn’t know it yet. But these are the kind of thoughts that you know it’s best to keep to yourself, just like you know you shouldn’t be thinking about the type of dresses that you like when Betsy comes into your office to show you a couple of choices she’s trying to decide between. You help her pick, of course, but when she leaves your office, you stay on the website and tell yourself, what’s the harm in looking?

The further down the wedding website rabbit hole you go, the more you feel your rational mind urging you to shut your laptop. Objectively, it’s insane for you to be thinking about any of this and you know that. Never once in your entire relationship with Brad did you consider any of this stuff. Of course, he never once brought up the idea of marriage, but it’s not like Dennis has either. You find yourself wondering what Dennis's wedding was like. It was probably picture-perfect and insanely expensive. Karen would have insisted on the best of everything, and you know he always gave her everything she wanted. He probably wouldn’t want to do that again; it would probably just remind him of her.

You have to stop. It’s just the hormones. It’s too soon for any of this. You haven’t even had sex. You haven’t talked about whether he’d even want to get married again. Sure, he’d said he wants a committed relationship, but that doesn’t mean marriage. And what about kids? You want them, but does he? He was married for 10 years and never had any. You think that was probably her decision, but what if it wasn’t? There’s so much you still don’t know about him.

Stop being crazy.

You’ve got an intake to prepare for anyway: a 5-year-old Persian named Bella whose elderly owner passed away and whose family can’t take her because of the children’s allergies. Bella is young and gorgeous and by all accounts perfectly healthy, and you know she’ll be adopted quickly, so it won’t be too stressful an afternoon, but you need to focus on making sure your newest resident gets all the TLC she needs. After the initial examination, you spend some time with her and you’re happy to see that—though she’s understandably a bit freaked out by her new surroundings—she’s a very friendly, sweet-tempered cat. Once you get her settled in the kennels, you snap a picture of her on your phone, put her into the system, and take your break.

The cafe is slow at this time of the afternoon and Cassie grabs your iced coffee and sits with you at a table.

“I’ve got a beauty for you,” you say, showing her the picture you took of Bella. “She just came in and I want to get her fostered ASAP.”

Cassie snatches your phone out of your hands. “I’m in love with her already. Look at those eyes!”

“I know,” you say, “and she so sweet. You’re gonna end up keeping her.”

Cassie rolls her eyes and says, “Probably,” before accidentally scrolling backward in your camera roll. “Fuck me. Hello there, handsome.”

You look over and see the picture Dennis sent you of him shirtless in bed with Jax and you feel your cheeks start to heat up.

“Give it back, Cass,” you say, trying not to giggle as you attempt to grab the phone back.

She holds it just out of your reach and raises an eyebrow at you. “Um, so, when were you planning on telling me that you’re fucking the nerdy beefcake?”

“Keep your voice down!” you whisper-shout, checking your surroundings to make sure no one heard that. “And we aren’t… you know… we just started officially dating, like, yesterday.”

“So you’re telling me you haven’t fucked this guy? This guy? The incredibly sexy, ripped guy who adopted the dog you’re in love with and is sending you lewds?”

“Not yet, no.”

“Well do it, for fuck’s sake. I mean… look at him.”

You laugh and finally get your phone back from her. “I will,” you say. “It’s just… we’re trying to take things slow.”

She eyes you over the rim of her coffee mug as she takes a sip. “Is that your decision or his?”

“It’s a mutually agreed-upon decision and it’s complicated so can we talk about when you’re coming to get Bella, please? I have to be back at work soon.”

“Alright alright,” she says, “I won’t pry. I’m just excited for you. It’s about fucking time you found yourself a new guy. What’s he like?”

You can’t keep the goofy smile off your face but you don’t care. “He’s sweet and kind and he’s, like, actually capable of talking about his feelings.”

“And he treats you well?”

“Like a queen,” you say. “I think… fuck, I don’t know.”

“No, uh-uh, no way,” Cassie says, and you know she’s not letting you get away with anything. “What were you going to say?”

“I feel crazy,” you tell her. “I feel like it’s all happening so fast but I think… I love him? Like, I’ve never felt this way about anyone and it’s making me feel absolutely insane and I don’t know what to do because I obviously can’t tell him because he’ll run away screaming but I feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t.”

“Slow down,” she says, grabbing your coffee away from you—a not-so-subtle hint that caffeine is the last thing you need in your current state. “You’re not crazy. Sometimes it takes a long time to fall for someone, and sometimes it happens right away. Now, if I were you I probably wouldn’t go spilling all that to him before you’ve even had sex, but what do I know.”

“I looked at wedding dresses today, Cass. I’ve officially entered crazy territory.”

She looks at you and bursts out laughing. “Well definitely don’t tell him that.”

“To be fair, Jack and Betsy got engaged and she pulled up the website to show me some stuff. I just happened to stay on it longer than I should have.”

“About time Jack popped the question,” she says. “That’s been coming for a while. So, let me guess: you listened to Betsy wedding planning all day and now all you can think about is walking down the aisle towards this big hunk of man?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Understandable. I can only imagine how he’d look in a tux. But you need to slow it down a little. I mean, I’ve been there—when you fall fast for somebody and it feels like you’re crawling out of your skin—but you basically just met this guy.”

“I know,” you say. “And I’m not going to say anything to him, but I just… I don’t know. I just want to be with him. I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to feel like this about someone and now I do and I don’t want to lose that feeling.”

“Well,” she replies, “the good news is you are with him because you’re dating him. He obviously wants to be with you, too. So why don’t you just enjoy that for now, get to know each other, and fuck him before you start picking out DJs and wedding flowers.”

“Peonies,” you say wistfully. “He grows them. In his garden. That he built himself.”

“Oh, you’re down real bad,” Cassie says, laughing. “But, wait, are you serious? Because that is very sexy.” You pull up a few pictures of Dennis’s garden and show them to her. “Holy fuck, look at those tomatoes. I think I might love him.”

“I’m sure he’d bring you some,” you say. “He donates most of the stuff he grows to the food bank.”

“Ok, ok. I get it. He’s perfect. Except he’s not perfect, because no one is.”

“He’s close,” you say. “But point taken. I gotta go. Do you think you’ll be able to take Bella soon?”

“Absolutely. I can get all set up to take her tomorrow.”

“You’re the best, Cass.”

As you’re walking back to work, you get a text from Dennis with the dinner reservation confirmation and you almost choke on your sip of coffee. Mirabelle just opened and you’ve heard amazing things, but it comes with a hefty price tag and a dress code. It’s one of those chic, sexy restaurants—the kind of place you’ve always wanted to go but could never rationalize spending the money. Mal is going to absolutely shit. You want to text Dennis and tell him it’s too much but then you think about the fact that he’s gonna have to dress up for dinner and you’re basically drooling at the thought of him in a suit. Besides, you know Mal would murder you if she found out you turned down a free five-star dinner and she confirms as much when you text her to tell her where you’re going that night.

M: Holy shit Mirabelle?!? Please marry him.

You almost text her back, “I’m trying to,” but you put your phone away instead.

***

Dennis takes his time getting ready. Even though he knows you won’t be spending the night tonight, he wants to look his best for you. He lays out one of the suits he bought—a nice navy blue one—and pairs it with a light blue button-down. It’s pretty hot out for a jacket, but the restaurant requires one and the suit is lightweight anyway. It’s probably too much, he knows, but he just wants to spoil you, and it doesn’t hurt that his choice of dinner location will ensure he gets to see you in a dress. The first one is still burned into his memory and he can’t wait to see what you’ve got in store for him tonight. And yes, sure, he wants to impress your friend, but it’s not about her. It’s about you. It’s always about you.

When he pulls into your apartment complex, he texts you a heads up so you can get Badger harnessed up and ready to meet a new person. Dennis knows his history: that Badger was in rough shape when he was brought in, had obviously been abused (and was most likely used as a bait dog), and is still skittish around other dogs and men (especially big ones). There’s a pit of anxiety lodged firmly in Dennis’s chest because he knows it’s important that Badger likes him (or at least tolerates him) or else your relationship is never going to work. You’d never choose him over your dog, and he’d never ask you to. And even if Badger does like him, Dennis wonders how things could possibly proceed if Badger and Jax don’t get along. Dogs brought the two of you together, but they could also complicate everything.

As Dennis walks to your apartment, carrying a basket full of veggies and herbs from the garden and a bottle of wine for your roommate, he can’t seem to calm his nerves, but all the bad thoughts whoosh out of his head the second you open the door. He’s never seen anything quite so lovely. The dress that hugs your body is a sinful shade of red and falls just above your knees, and Dennis’s eyes travel up the slit, drinking in every inch of your thigh on display. Your black heels are high, bringing you slightly closer to his height, and your silver pendant necklace rests on your breastbone, just above the swell of your breasts. You look elegant and sexy as hell, and the wicked little smile on your face tells him that he looks good, too.

“You look…”

Dennis doesn’t even know if there’s a word for the way you look, but you don’t make him finish his sentence. Instead, you say, “Hey, handsome,” and give him a kiss that tastes like cherry candy.

You swipe your thumb across his lips to wipe them clean. “Sorry,” you say. “Lip gloss.”

“Tastes good,” he replies, and he can hear the gravel in his own voice.

“Come in.”

Your apartment is much as he imagined it would be: small but in a cozy way, a collection of secondhand furniture that somehow goes together although it’s mismatched, colorful walls and artwork and pictures, a tiny open kitchen overflowing with things you have no space for. It’s warm, it’s inviting, it’s you.

“This is Mal,” you say. “Mal, this is Dennis.”

Dennis sticks his hand out and swallows the lump in his throat when he gets his first look at your friend. From the way you’d described her, Dennis expected some supermodel, but although Mal is a beautiful woman, she doesn’t hold a candle to you.

“Nice to meet you, Dennis,” she says, shaking his hand. “This one won’t stop talking about you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Dennis says. “This is for you.” He holds out the bottle of Cabernet the guy at the wine store said is the best. “I don’t know much about wine so I hope you like it.”

Mal’s eyes go wide when she takes the bottle from him. “Is this… holy shit, this is Opus One.” Mal turns to you, clutching the bottle to her chest. “I think I love him,” she says, and then turns back to Dennis. “This is insanely nice of you, thank you. Should I open it now or…?”

“You keep it,” he says. “I’m not much of a wine guy. It’d be wasted on me.”

“What else you got?” Mal asks, motioning towards the basket Dennis is holding.

“Oh! Right.” He turns to you and hands you the basket. “From the garden.”

You place the basket on the small kitchen island that divides the kitchen space and the living room and your eyes light up when you open it.

“Mal, look,” you say, taking in the bounty he brought for you.

He’d taken his time in the garden that afternoon, picking the best of everything—perfectly ripe tomatoes and bell peppers, crisp Bibb lettuce and green beans, basil and chives and thyme, and a bundle of lavender tied in a bow. You take the lavender out of the basket and bring it to your nose and Dennis is jealous of the buds that brush your lips as you inhale.

“Oh my God, Mal, smell this.” You hand her the bunch and turn to Dennis, quickly closing the distance between you and grabbing his face and bringing your cherry lips to his again—a deeper kiss this time, but nothing too obscene in front of your friend. “Thank you. I love it.”

I love you, he thinks.

“You’re welcome,” he says, lost in the sparkle of your eyes for a moment until Mal’s voice brings the rest of the world back into focus.

“Should I go get Badger?” she asks you.

“Let me do it,” you say, and Dennis can see a nervous crease in your brow. “So, ok, here’s what we need to do. Dennis, I’m gonna give you a couple of his treats to put in your pocket, and when I bring him into the room, you should just ignore him, ok? No eye contact or anything. Let him come to you, and if he does, then just toss a treat onto the floor but don’t look at him or make any moves to pet him or anything. He’ll probably just sniff you and then ignore you, and that’s probably as good as it’s gonna get right now. He’s got some… trust issues.”

“Don’t we all,” Dennis says, and you smile as you give him a handful of treats.

“It’s gonna be fine,” you tell him, placing your hand on his chest and running it down the front of his jacket. “Love the suit, by the way.”

“Love your dress,” he responds, and you look over your shoulder.

“It’s Mal’s,” you say. “I don’t have anything Mirabelle-worthy in my closet right now.”

Dennis is already planning the shopping trip he wants to take you on as you walk towards what he assumes is your bedroom. The A/C in your apartment is working overtime in the summer heat but Dennis can feel himself starting to sweat so he takes his suit jacket off and lays it over the back of a nearby armchair.

“I hope he likes me,” he says, partially to Mal and partially to the universe itself.

“He will,” she says. “You just gotta give him time to warm up. He’s very protective of her, as am I.”

Mal gives Dennis a look that says she’s kidding but also very much not kidding, and Dennis nods.

“As you should be,” he says.

Mal gives him a tiny half-smile as you enter the room with Badger on the leash. Dennis watches out of the corner of his eye, making conversation with Mal as Badger slowly walks toward him with his head low to the ground. He stops a few feet away and you say, “Wanna go say hi?” but he doesn’t move. Dennis tosses a treat on the ground toward him when you tell him to and Badger scarfs it down and moves a bit closer before stopping again. Another treat, another few inches, and soon he’s tentatively sniffing Dennis’s loafers. Another treat, some more conversation with Mal, and Badger is circling Dennis, sniffing at his pant legs and collecting the treats as they fall. You’re praising him the whole time (and praising Dennis, too), and Dennis is looking everywhere but the dog until he hears you say, “Oh my God, look!” Dennis takes a quick peek down and sees Badger sitting in front of him with perfect posture, his tail wagging behind him. You look like you’re about to cry.

“Is that good?” he asks.

“He’s literally never done that before,” Mal says. “With anyone.”

“What should I do?” he asks you.

“OK,” you say, “why don’t you walk over and sit on the couch and let’s see if he follows you.”

Dennis does, and Badger does, and when he sits again and starts wagging, you rush over to give him a treat.

“Good boy, Badge!” you exclaim, bending over to give him a treat and some scratches. Dennis catches your eye and you’re smiling so wide he can feel it in his own cheeks. “Let’s quit while we’re ahead, shall we? You guys ready to go?”

Dennis gets lost in your cleavage for a minute as you lean over in front of him and he has to force the memory of his dick sliding between your tits to the back of his mind or else he’s going to go absolutely feral. You just look so fucking good he wants to grab you by the arms and pin you down on the couch and rip that dress to shreds, but instead he just smiles and clears his throat.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m starving.”

PART NINE >>>

#dennis baker fanfiction #dennis baker x reader #dennis baker x you #dennis baker #chris evans #chris evans characters #take me home series

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sparkledfirecracker · 3 years

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Sunny Fall Out

Synth’s 5K Follower Challenge / How it started – How’s it going?

@syntheticavenger , again congrats on reaching 5K 😊!

Title: Sunny Fall Out

Pairing: Frank Adler x Female Reader

Challenge: Frank Adler / Babysitting Mary

Warning: Swearing and fluff

My blog is an 18+ only zone, minors do not interact. Don’t let the fluff fool you.

A/N: My second entry for Synt’s 5K follower challenge. This fluff entered my brain while working on this dark filthy twisted mobster story. Took a break to write up this fluffy drabble for the lovely anon who requested this for the challenge. Lightly proofread, so all mistakes are my own. ENJOY!

Pictures for moodboard found on Pinterest, credit to the respectful owners!

How it started:

Frank Adler, your next door neighbour, with his complicated character. He was your weakness, his toned physique, his hard working ethic and his devotion to Mary. Exhaustion had overtaken your body when Frank ambushed you. There he had stood; practically begging you to watch Mary for a couple of hours. Roberta being out for the day and he had no-one else to turn to.

You loved that little girl and wouldn’t — nor couldn’t — say no to an opportunity to watch her. Even when you were exhausted and all you wanted to do was catch up on some much needed sleep.

Hours had been filled with chatter, pillow fort building and currently; watching a movie allowing you to doze off. It hadn’t been long when your nap was interrupted, the snuggled up girl moving with impatience.

“How about we paint some nails?” You croak

“YES!” An exciting peep from the small human. “What colour?”

“We can check, there is tons of different shades.” You smiled, getting up and grabbing your keys out of your bag. “I’ll be right back, don’t burn down the house, okay?”

“I won’t.” A mini promise before you hurried next door.

Only briefly getting used to the comfort of your home. You grabbed the small basket with nail polishes and remover. Running back and settling back down in the homemade fort. It hadn’t taken you long to decide on a colour, pink with a glittery shimmer.

“Mary, sit still.” You chirped firming your hold.

“You’re tickling me.” The foot in your hand tried to wriggle out of your grasp. Loud giggles erupting from the small body on your opposite.

“If you keep this up you’ll have more nail polish on your skin than the actual toenails.” You giggle, hearing the door open and keys being tossed on the table with a loud thud.

Frank leaned his hands down on the table. He looked like he had a rough day with whatever he had to do.

“We’re painting toenails.” Mary gleamed showing him the foot we were working on.

“Are you serious?” He sounded aggravated. Mary’s face dropped at Franks annoyed words. Assuming she’d experienced a minor outburst from him before. You couldn’t get a good read on him and opted for the immediate apology.

“Sorry, I thought it might be okay, since it’s only her toenails -- they can be hidden.” Screwing the brush back on the bottle. “I should have asked first.”

“You should have indeed.” He growled

“Mary come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” The disappointed pout on her pale face made your heart sink. Getting up and holding your hand out for her.

“Thanks for watching her, but I didn’t expect to come back to all this girly nonsense and fucking mess.” Frank grumbled. His impatience growing when you weren’t moving fast enough “Just leave it and get out already.” His annoyance had softened when he spoke the harsh words, too late for an apology now.

“Shut up Frank, I thought it was a nice gesture.” Dropping Mary’s hand and pushing past Frank’s body. You turned around to look at him. “You just didn’t have to be a dick about it.” Slamming the door on your way out.

Large steps taken to your house next door, balled fists by your side while you mumbled angrily to yourself. Fighting the tears that were threatening to fall from being exhausted and emotional, clearly the lack of sleep coursing your body. A squeal escaped when you were tugged -- a little too roughly -- on your arm, making you spin around. Frank!

“Leave me alone, you ignorant prick.” You tried breaking free from his grasp, hitting his arm with your free hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t cut it.” You spat tears now streaming down your cheeks from the overwhelming tiredness consuming your body.

“It’ll have to do”

“It won’t and you know what,” You took in a sharp breath “You’re such an asshole you know that? I did something nice for Mary and here you come, barging in and being all rude and taking your shitty mood out on me. She looked devastated about having to take off some innocent nail polish. I did you a favour when you practically begged me to babysit her. It is just nail polish, Frank, not a full blown makeover to become the next pageant queen of the state…”

The anger unleashed onto him had made you feel slightly better. Before you could speak two large hands had pulled you in and enveloped your lips harshly. The shock made time stand still and then your thoughts recollected themselves at what was happening. Trying to push him off.

“I am really sorry,” Frank looks down at you taking in your features, his cheeks blushed. “I shouldn’t have taken out my rough day on you, it’s just -- it’s just Evelyn making life difficult for a second time ‘round”

You knew his mother was ruthless when it came to Mary. He had told you some small stuff, but knew their relationship was complicated. You’d seen her once and she made shivers run down your spine. She didn’t look like a pleasant person to be around.

Your face softened at his explanation “You want to talk about it over a couple of beers?”

“No, I don’t”

“You don’t want beer? I am truly shocked.” You feigned a gasp, clutching your chest in shocked surprise.

“I want the beer; I don’t want to talk -- I want to make it up to you.”

“For what exactly, Frank?”

“Being an asshole, can I persuade you with an offer of beer and pizza?” It wasn’t really a question, but it was a nice sincere suggestion.

You contemplated for a moment, you grabbed his face and risen to your toes. Pulling him down in your cradled grip and pressing your lips gently to his.

“Does this mean she can paint my nails again?” Mary shouted from the door. Breaking away from the kiss, Frank let’s out a grunt and you both turn your head towards the blonde girl grinning widely in the opening.

“MARY! Get inside”

“Play nice asshole.” With a giggle you slapped his chest playfully.

How’s it going – 6 months later

Your sundress clung to your body, yelping at the cold water from the exploded water balloon. You’re quick to grab the hose holding it in Mary’s direction, joyful shrieks filling the air.

“STOP! STOP!” She yelled, trying to fight her way towards you.

“No, you started it, you’ll finish it.” You laughed continuing to pour the cold water on her.

She fell down and let out a frustrated sob. You initially thought she’d gotten hurt, but when you reached her she full blown sprayed you with her water gun.

“That’s cheating.” You protested, you turn your head at the large grumble from the familiar truck you had been waiting to see. Mischief coursing through your body and you look down at Mary who expresses the same delight as you. “Let’s get Frank.”

“YES!!!” The exhilaration clearly visibly, jumping up and down.

Hiding around the corner you watch Frank approach the house, unknowingly, scanning through the mail. Mary runs up to him with her water gun and you throw some water balloons his way. Hitting him on his head and arm.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!” Frank growled looking at the both of you giggling. “This is how I get welcomed home?” He opened the door and tossed the mail inside, before returning with a wide grin, grabbing a filled bucket by the door and running your way.

“RUN” Mary shrieked heading off, Frank followed in her tracks. Grabbing her by the arm and locking her between his legs. Her frantic movements were no match to his firm hold and she screeches when the cold water is poured down on her.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction. Frank whispers something in her ear and she nods. He lets her go and he waves at you, raising your eyebrow in confusion, but soon realize that Mary is running your way.

“You traitor.” You chuckle pointing towards Mary.

Running away quickly, sprinting around the house trying to dodge Mary. She launches her small body at you, hanging onto you like a Koala. It has clearly slowed you down and before you know it Frank catches you, securing you in his grasp. Mary let’s go and runs away.

“I missed you.” You muse giving him a quick peck on his lips, batting your eyelashes at him.

“I missed you too, but that cute look is not going to charm me.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, pulling back giving you a devilish look. “We’ve got other ways to deal with naughty girls like you.” With ease Frank lifts you over your shoulder, you slap his ass animatedly trying to get him to put you down.

#frank adler #frank adler x reader #frank adler x you #frank adler x female reader #frank adler x y/n #frank adler smut #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #lilos masterlist #synths5kfollowerchallenge #lilo writing

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sternbilder · 3 years

Note

Hi!! Stumbled on your blog via the buried stars tag and I'd like to say thank you so much for the kr>eng translations! There aren't many english-speaking fans so I was happy to read about the game & its characters. I was wondering, what do all the characters call each other in Korean? Or what honorifics they use? I could hear it in the audio sometimes (Gyu-hyuk: "Do-yoon-ah", or I think Seil: "Inha-ssi" ?) but I didn't catch all of them. Google tells me some of it is based off of (1/2)

(2/2) Google tells me some of it is based off of respect, friendship/closeness, or just being older/younger than one another, but I'm still new to the intricacies of what it implies about the characters' relationships and how their individual personalities are. If it isn't too much trouble, I'd love to know ^^

Hello!! You're very welcome and in fact thank you for the question, I'm always receptive to more excuses to talk about this game!

It seems like you already have some context on rules surrounding Korean honorifics. There is a lot of nuance, obviously, but to put it simply...Yes, I'd say the speech patterns the cast (particularly, the TOP5—the others are a bit more complicated) uses are what you'd see in a casual social setting between people who already know each other somewhat, but aren't necessarily friends, which is what I think I would expect from a group of twentysomethings who probably had a chance to bond socially as a cohort throughout the whole audition process (it's explained in the Q&A that they lived together in a dorm for most of the show, too). And as you've pointed out the rules there I would say are much more tied to age and closeness. I'd generally characterize their speech patterns as informal, but polite—basically, you have to use the polite form with people who are older than you, but you can use casual speech (banmal) with people who are the same age or younger. The exception is if you are close enough with someone that you mutually decide it's OK to drop honorifics despite the age difference. More on that later.

The order of the age of each of the main cast are as follows: Seungyeon (33), Juyoung (28), Gyuhyuk (27), Doyoon and Inha (25), Seil (24), and Hyesung (20). So with no other caveats we'd expect, for example, Doyoon to use polite form with Juyoung and Gyuhyuk but not with Inha and Hyesung, etc. Now, with that as the basis, here are some notes based on what I can remember, though disclaimer that my memory isn't perfect, and there are also things I might have missed because I haven't done a full playthrough yet with Korean text.

(Character spoilers for the "Other" section at the end; otherwise a few minor spoilers)

TOP5

Juyoung (28)

Juyoung is the oldest of the main cast, so she uses banmal with pretty much everyone and refers to them by name, or name + ah/ya (which is the casual vocative marker), and it's perfectly acceptable for her to do so.

The rest of the TOP5 call her 언니/누나 (unni/noona, lit. "older sister" but more generally used to refer to any slightly older female acquaintance; which one is used depends on the speaker's gender). They also sometimes call her 영이 언니/누나 (Young-i unni/noona) for short, which I thought was cute. There's actually a Q&A question that asked about this because it is a very familiar/affectionate nickname, and the director explained that Juyoung asked the others to call her that because she was afraid of seeming unapproachable due to her age and because of the fact that she was a former idol.

Gyuhyuk (27)

As the second oldest, I believe he uses banmal with everyone but Juyoung. The younger male characters all call him 형 (hyung, lit. "older brother", see above), though I can't seem to remember Inha calling him 오빠 (oppa). I might be projecting that assumption onto her based on her somewhat brash personality, since 오빠 can come off as a bit...Girlish? Cutesy? Flirtatious? in certain contexts? Idk.

Doyoon (25)

What's notable about Doyoon is that he uses the polite form with Juyoung, but not Gyuhyuk. He calls Gyuhyuk 형 (hyung), of course, but he uses the casual form, which suggests that they're close enough with each other that they've already agreed to drop formalities. Their first rapport event gives me the sense that they're especially close, too, compared to the other contestants (as does just like...waves in their general direction, but anyway,)

Inha (25)

Inha is the same age as Doyoon, so you would also expect her to use polite form with Juyoung and Gyuhyuk. However, she doesn't with either of them IIRC.

As for Juyoung, I don't remember how much of this came through in the text of the game itself, but I would guess they were probably already pretty close in a way similar to Doyoon and Gyuhyuk were. At the very least, I think I remember one of the Q&A answers indicating that they kept in touch very frequently after the events of the game.

I don't really remember too many interactions between Inha and Gyuhyuk, tbh. I do recall that she (not sure if any others do) refers to him as 규 (Gyu) at least once, which I think is adorable, LMAO. This might indicate that they may have been on close enough terms to use casual speech? But then again, she did seem to resent Gyuhyuk at least a little bit for the scholarship thing, and according to the Q&A she took much longer than Juyoung and Doyoon to see him again after the game, so??? She could just be kind of disrespectful like that, which...Kinda tracks, honestly??? 🤷‍♀️Like I said, I don't remember too much about these two, so don't take my word on this.

Hyesung (20)

Hyesung is the youngest, so you would expect him to use polite speech with everyone, but he, uh, does not. With anyone. LMAO. Maybe he's just super tight with everyone, but something tells me it's more because he's a rude little shit who's just Like That. (I mean, he uses banmal with Seil, who does hate his guts, so.) He does call everyone 형/누나 (hyung/noona), though, at least—though, now that I think about it, Seil might be an exception to that, LOL.

Since he's the youngest, everyone just calls him Hyesung.

Also, this is tangential, but I also just wanted to throw in that Hyesung notably has a slight "old man" dialect in that he sometimes uses expressions and slang that you would expect from the older generation, because growing up his only friends were the other vendors at his mom's fish market. This is unrelated to politeness, but it does come off as really funny considering how young he is, and definitely gives his speech a unique vibe.

Staff

Seil (24)

The speech patterns between Seil and the TOP5 are pretty similar to speech patterns within TOP5 itself, which is to say, fairly informal but still polite. He uses polite form with everyone older than him, and uses banmal with Hyseung. I actually wouldn't necessarily have expected this to be the case since he technically has more of a professional relationship to the TOP5 than they do with each other (so I wouldn't have been surprised if he actually used formal speech, rather than just polite), but it's probably because he's in that same age range and because he was the staff member who was closest to them socially.

I believe you are correct that he calls Inha, and Inha alone, -씨 (-ssi), which is actually formal, rather than simply polite. Probably just indicating his high level of admiration for her in particular.

The rest of the main cast just call him Seil. Hyesung also occasionally calls Seil 세일 FD님 (Seil FD-nim) which is technically extremely formal, but obviously said in sarcasm.

Seungyeon (33)

I believe she calls everyone by their full name, and uses casual speech with them. Makes sense. She's the boss.

Everyone else calls her PD님 (PD-nim, formal). Including, notably, Hyesung. AFAICR Seungyeon is the only character Hyesung shows even an ounce of deference toward in this game. 😛

Other

Suchang (27) & Suyeon (18)

AFAIK Suchang only really has in-game interactions with Doyoon and Suyeon, and Suyeon only has interactions with Suchang, who she of course calls 오빠 (oppa), in the familial sense. Though IIRC at the very end she does once refer to Doyoon as 그분 (geubun, lit. "that person") and 도윤님 (Doyoon-nim), both of which are extremely formal/deferential in tone but in kind of a "little girl talks about her crush as if they were Prince Charming" sort of way...Which causes Suchang to hilariously go into overprotective/jealous older brother mode.

The Ha siblings use casual speech with each other, which is standard among siblings. However, Suchang also talks down to Doyoon, which is pretty audacious of him considering they're strangers—he basically talks to Doyoon as if they're already friends. He's kind of an audacious guy in general, though, so I'd say that kind of fits his character.

Doyoon, on the other hand, being the polite young man that he is, uses polite speech with Suchang. There's a funny scene where he accidentally slips up and uses banmal, and then immediately gets called out by Suchang, who chews him out for talking down to someone older than him. (Though ofc Doyoon had no way of knowing this, and also, Suchang shouldn't be using banmal with a stranger in the first place.) At the very end of the true ending when they finally meet, Doyoon actually takes it up a level and calls Suchang 수창씨 (Suchang-ssi) but Suchang tells him to drop it and just call him 형 (hyung). It's sweet.

#khattikeri #Asks #Buried Stars #Meta #liveblog: bstars

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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

Text

Cabin Fever (Dabi x Reader)

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, pwp

Prompt: Winter with Dabi, sweater, flannel

Summary: Dabi and you get away on a mini vacation in the mountains and end up inside due to the snow.

Word count: 1,384

Tags: @rintomoj @yamichxn @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: My winter entry for the Seasonal Love Event being held by my Discord server! This is just fluff without too much plot, but I hope you guys enjoy the little bit of coziness it might give you~ Stay tuned for the other entries by my friends!

Seasonal Love Event Masterlist

"I hate to be that kind of boyfriend, but what's the point of this?" Dabi trails behind me, boredom visible in his entire expression.

"Because it's our anniversary?" My eyebrow quirks up. "Don't be rude."

"Right."

His last word earns an elbow in the chest from me. "I thought you would've liked spending time all alone with me, considering you're always complaining about your friends constantly butting in."

"Yeah, but did we have to go all the way into the mountains?" His eyes dart around cautiously. "It's a little too secluded for my taste."

"What, are you scared you might cause a fire?" I unload more of our bags out of the trunk. "And as long as we're laying out gripes, it's not fair that you can be out in winter in just that stupid flannel and not be cold."

The man glances down at his black and blue flannel shirt, unbuttoned to reveal just a white T-shirt, a stark contrast to my coat-and-beanie attire. "You can thank my quirk for that." His long arm slithers around my shoulders, his natural warmth a welcome hug to cut through the cold seeping through even my heavy winter coat. "I could share it with you, maybe in more ways than one."

"Ugh, you and your greasy comments." I shove him away, before quickly pulling him back in when the warmth regretfully withdraws. "You can't go a day without making an innuendo."

"Isn't that why you're with me in the first place?"

"No, I'm with you despite that." I hit his chest and carry the bags into the cabin in front of us. "Hurry up and help me take in the rest of the bags, we have a lot of unpacking and stuff to do.

Eventually, we get ourselves settled into the cabin. My uncle usually rents these cabins to other couples, but I asked him when it was available for us to get away from the city for a bit. Work was getting a bit hard for both of us to take - obviously Dabi's work is much more demanding on him - so we needed to get away.

"It's a pretty small place, cozy I guess." He came back after touring the small cabin in its entirety. "Big enough for just the two of us."

I'm unpacking some of the plastic utensils and plates we plan to eat using. "Yeah, my family sometimes vacations here. There were nine of us the last time, so some of us slept on the floor."

"Well," his scarred limbs slither around me again, "At least now there aren't seven other people to bother us."

"Dabi, I swear, do you have anything else in your thick head?" I hit him with a plate and shove him away. "There's a grill and fire pit in the back, we could probably have a little barbecue to ourselves tomorrow night."

His low voice hums right next to my ear. "I don't know if you checked the weather, babe, but apparently we're due to get a lot of snow tomorrow."

My jaw drops and I whine out, "You're not serious! Damn it! Well that plan's down the drain now."

"And we'll have to do something else to warm ourselves up..."

"GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER ALREADY!"

His raven hair shuffles as he throws his head back in a throaty laugh, leaning back against the fridge to look down his nose at me. He's enjoy this teasing a little too much. It's normal for Dabi to be a flirty little shit, but he must be more charged up at the thought of us being all alone in a house in the mountains together. Where no one can probably hear us.

Now that I think about it, that makes sense.

"If I knew your hormones were gonna go into overdrive being alone, I wouldn't have planned our weekend like this, we could've gone to an amusement park or something." I move away from him into the living room.

"It's not such a bad thing though. Might as well take advantage of our situation, right?"

"Dabi!"

The next night, the two of you were stuck in the cabin, the snow storm outside raging on despite your vacation plans. Wind howls outside as it rushes through the swaying trees. It was a good thing my uncle left a few decks of cards and some board games so we wouldn't be terribly bored out here, probably for when he rents them to others.

"Your turn."

I look up from my phone and down at the board game. Gathering the dice in my hand, I make my next move. "I took some nice pictures today, wanna see?"

He scoots next to me, his pinky finger catching onto the long sleeve of my sweater as I flip through my gallery. "That one's nice, send that to me."

"I really like that one too," I smile gleefully. That picture was actually my favorite; it was one I took at dawn while Dabi was still sleeping. The barren trees glistened in the approaching golden light of the rising Sun. The entire sky and lake reflection was bathed in a marriage of pinks and oranges, fighting the dark blue at the edge of the photo while the ice on the branches twinkled as if stars. "I think it's gonna be my new phone background for a while."

"Or you could sell it and make some money off it," Dabi suggests, picking up the dice from where they landed after my toss.

Usually, I would rebuke him for such an idea, but the thought of making a few bucks off my amateur photography is tempting. "Maybe, I'll think about it. Or I'll just print it out to hang in the apartment."

I notice Dabi had left his thick flannel draping over the couch messily. For the love of everything good. "Babe, at least hang your stuff up in the closet." I pick up his clothes and hang it in the closet by the door, retrieving my own jacket from there to hang over my shoulders. My fingers were a tiny bit cold from the weather outside. Although the heat was on, it wasn't up to my standards as someone who's generally always cold.

"You still have that?" It's almost teasing, but there's the slightest bit of pride and affection behind his teal eyes resting on me.

"Of course, you never let me return it," I bite back in a similarly playful manner before snuggling back next to him on the floor.

Dabi and I first met by chance in the city, waiting for the bus. I was probably shaking like a leaf next to him, to the point where I knew I was becoming a minor annoyance to him due to my chattering teeth. To my surprise, he shed his down jacket and draped it around my shoulders.

I was quick to protest and refuse it. "No, it's okay, I don't want you to be cold like that."

That day, he was wearing just a black hoodie. "Nah, it's fine. I'm hot blooded anyway."

Ever since that day when we started talking, I realized this man didn't wear a jacket at all, not even in the dead of winter on the most frigid days. When we would go on dates, he would wear one just in case I got cold. It warms my heart to this day that he would even think of such an affectionate gesture.

Dabi's bare arms wrap around my body. "If you were cold, you should've told me, I would've warmed you up myself." His head rests on mine as he says innocently, "In more ways than one."

"Get away." I shove his chest, but he remains strong.

"You wouldn't push away your human heater, you love me too much," he chuckles, placing a kiss on my temple.

I hum, simply basking in his warmth. "Isn't it funny how you ended up dating someone who's perpetually cold?"

He casually shrugs again. "At least my quirk has a non-destructive purpose, I guess."

Although he says it so uncaring, I know his own warm affection blooms in his chest at the thought of us being matched because of our opposing qualities. "Opposites attract, huh?" I breathe, tracing the staples on his hand as he pulls me closer into his space, eliminating any distance between us.

"Not really. You do have a fiery temperament, sometimes when-"

"Shut up!"

#dabi x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dabi fluff #mha dabi #bnha dabi #gender neutral reader #dabi imagine #dabi scenario #league of villains #lov dabi #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #seasonal love event

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daydreamed-snippets · 3 years

Text

@gingerly-writing - thank you for this wonderful prompt. I love your blog!!

Prompt #2623 --- “Don’t lie to me,” the villain snapped. “I know your commanders are planning to kill me. Just tell me how they’re going to do it. Please. I’d- I need to know.”

“Don’t think of it as death, per se,” the agent murmured, grabbing the villain by the collar and pushing them up against the smooth, plaster wall of the institute. With a jerk of their head that unequivocally conveyed ‘hands where I can see them’, the agent watched with a satisfied smile as the villain slowly slid their arms up the wall to rest their hands on their head. The edge of the agent’s weapon goading them into compliance. “Think of it more as a rebirth. A release. Think of it like your past catching up with your future.”

“Am I supposed to know what you’re talking about?” The villain’s expression was tight, the irritation they showed earlier steadily drained into unease. Still, they kept their chin high, the agent noted. Docile in all accounts but this--their eyes.

The way they looked at them. Glowering, yes, but more importantly questioning.

Questioning them. Looking for the ruse. Searching for the persona of that civilian that they hit it off with--back when they first met. And wondering about this civilian turned agent, or if they were an agent the whole time.

For their part, it was easier than the agent thought it would be. Just act like an unassuming nitwit. A fool trying to do the right thing and befriend the estranged villain. Because the villain would trust that an idiot would pose little to no threat to them.

Stupidity always did invite those who felt a sense of blind superiority to morons, like a vacuum. Well, the right kind of stupidity at least. Act innocently stupid and they won’t notice. Act youthfully dumb and they’ll excuse anything.

But the villain was playing at ignorance too.

“Is this because I stole your security badge and broke into the institute?” the villain asked, daring to shift a bit. The agent pressed the weapon closer, jabbing it in their side. They had thrown their full weight against the villain, being the taller of the two, knowing that they had the advantage. Hips pinning them, one knee between the villain’s legs driving them on the tips of their toes. Keeping them off balance. There was little competition between the agent’s more toned muscles to the villain’s lanky form. “Look, I know I wasn’t…that I haven’t been the greatest friend or the most upstanding citizen. So, yes, I’ve broken a few minor laws, but—but do your commanders really have to do this?”

“Oh, sunshine, this has nothing to do with our farce of a ‘friendship’, or your little excursions around this shithole of a city,” they drawled, and with their free hand they pressed a button on the communicator they kept in their pocket. The security alarm the two had tripped in the scuffle cut out, letting diminished lighting illuminate the room.

The villain dared to look surprised. The agent only chuckled. “Yes, I know about that. Your ‘secret identity’, your fights with heroes. But all of that is inconsequential, really, to the bigger picture.”

“Which is?” the villain whispered in askance.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” the agent faked a pout, shifting their weight to ease off the villain. Their weapon still trained on them as a reminder to keep perfectly still. “I’m a little perturbed. Had I known what you actually were when I was first sent on this assignment, well.” They shook out their free hand before catching the villain’s belt loop, tugging them close. Off of the wall so that they were a breath away again. They then trailed their fingers up the villain's torso, across their chest, relishing the erratic beat of their heart. They skimmed a thumb over their chin, before grabbing them by the throat, ignoring the villain’s agitated expression.

“I would have likely kept you for myself. My commanders be damned. I don’t know exactly how I would pull it off. Probably make up some little lie that you skipped town. That you slipped my grasp.” They let go of the villain’s throat and fished in their pocket to pull out a syringe, concealing it at their side. “I get excited even now thinking about the ways I could have played with you. Played with your powers. The power you so rarely use.”

“What I am?” the villain echoed. The confused look was endearing, if not strained. Like if they could only stick to the role of cluelessness, maybe they could stop what was about to happen next. “You seem to think that I know what this is, but I don’t. Please…”

“You can drop the sniveling coward act. It’s unbecoming.” It was their turn to snap. “You may be easy on the eyes. A punk of a villain, but my commanders and I know who and what you are.” The agent makes a showing of licking their front teeth, as they lean in and brush their lips against the villain’s ear.

They whisper their name.

Their real name.

An ancient name that once spoken was said to immediately draw the aid, power, and ambition of that being. A name only found encased in tomes hidden in long-forgotten burial mounds. A name which whispered of gods and powers beyond temporal appetites.

Something changed then. The agent can feel the villain shutter and grip the front of their shirt as they let out a quivering breath. Perhaps they'd get their wish after all. Perhaps, this was all it took, and the villain would now bend to their myriad of passions.

But the villain finally spoke, with an incensed sigh. “That’s not how it’s pronounced.”

The agent blinked, letting out a line of curses in their head. Keeping their fortitude, they laughed and leaned back. “I’m sure it’s close,” they said. The villain let go of their shirt, flickering their gaze to the floor. “We'll figure it out. It will be enough for my commanders to proceed with your conversion by killing this body. Setting the immortal residing in it free. And by saying your name, your true name, in the binding ritual, you will have no choice but to lend your strength to us.”

Without warning, the villain lunged, ignoring the weapon pointed at their side. Believing that it wouldn’t be used against them. That they were too precious an asset to risk injury to.

The agent didn’t hesitate.

They discharged the weapon as they were driven back, stumbling to land on their back. There was barely a grunt, as the villain righted themselves and stocked towards the agent.

“You’re right. What use is there for pretense now?” the villain said, lowering into a crouch. Blood oozing through their fingers as they clutched their wound. It splattering on the floor. “You mortals are always confident that your schemes will work. But you’ll soon realize that when mortals plan, gods laugh.”

They grab the agent by the throat and lift them onto their feet like they were a ragdoll. “I haven’t’ heard my true name spoke properly in over four thousand years. I very much doubt you, or anyone for that matter will be able to say it correctly. And I won’t respond anything less.”

The villain squeezed hard, grinning madly. The agent claws at their arm with one hand, remembering their concealed syringe in the other. Black spots dotted their vision, but it was enough. They plunged the needle in the villain’s arm, emptying its contents. The villain let go and they fell like a sack. Hitting the ground they gasped in air, coughing rudely into the tiled floor, half expecting the villain to topple over them, unconscious. That serum was enough to knock out three grown men. But the villain stumbled back.

“What…was in that?” they stammered, looking at their fingers, running a hand over their face. “It’s not supposed to—”

The agent coughed up phlegm, practically giggling. “Modern medicine's a bitch, you damned immortal.”

The villain staggered towards the door, hearing movement down the hallway. Wishing they could kill this idiot, this monument to their own nearsightedness, but they had bigger problems. Namely footfalls of the rest of the agent’s comrades eager to secure them in chains.

Making their way out the door, their vision swayed again; rising, and falling. They clutched the wall for support. Leaned against it to regain composure. Making a run for it, the villain stumbled down the hallway, towards what they’d hoped was the way they came in. The wound at their side was slowing them down. They couldn’t heal properly with that serum in them. They could feel their blood trying to burn it’s way though the sedative--the added benefits of this body not being entirely mortal. And on the other hand, being mortal enough.

They tripped again, begging whichever god that they would make it out of there. And put as much distance between themselves and this blasted facility. The irony of that wish was not lost on them.

They looked back to catch a glimpse of facility guards. Blindly rounding the next corner, the villain slammed into something solid. Toddling backward, they righted themselves just in time for someone to grab them by the arm.

It was the hero.

The alarm must have alerted not only those in this compound but also to the outside authorities. Hence their hapless appearance here.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” the hero said, throwing a glance at the direction the villain just came. “Come with me.”

“Like hell!” The villain gasped, attempting to back away. Wrenching their arm free. “Don’t you—”

“That wasn’t a request.”

A well-aimed punch to the villain’s solar plexus knocked the villain out cold. More blood splattering on the floor and wall. Apologetically the hero threw the villain over their shoulder and darted out a side window.

#writing #villain #agent #civilian #othersprompt #might continue if anyone likes it #notmyprompt #short story #hero

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miracul0us-multishipper · 5 years

Text

Welcome to the back (Part 15)

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

- - -

Adrien had never felt this afraid. He‘d been in this building countless times before, as both Adrien and Chat Noir, but he’d either been guided or had simply followed his Lady’s lead. Now he wished he’d paid more attention to the the layout of the building.

He had reached the main studio a minute after the ads had started - this place was a maze! - just to find all his friends gone already. A confirmation of his worst fears. They were up to something!

He had to find Lila! She could get them out of this mess, she knew how to talk her way to safety. If she were to be exposed... Earlier that week, it had only been their class’s harmony that had been at stake.

Now, she would take Adrien down with her. What had he been thinking? Why had he helped her, why had he lied for her? He’d only made everything worse! Damnit, Marinette had been right. This was his own fault- Marinette!

His thoughts returned to their encounter earlier, and he ran even faster, searching for the others. He needed to find her. How she had gotten her hands on his Miraculous, he didn’t know, but the fact it was inactive and on a string meant that she wasn’t using it - yet. Maybe she was simply waiting for the right time to steal his place. He growled and ripped another door open, revealing the room behind it to be empty.

Marinette wasn’t fit to be Chat Noir. She didn’t have what it took to be Ladybug’s partner, and she hadn’t deserved his miraculous like he did! He would convince her to give it back. Marinette wasn’t unreasonable, she’d understand. And she had liked him, Lila had told him once. Maybe if he promised to be a better friend now, maybe even go out together, she’d realize this was his destiny.

His thoughts began to spiral down a slippery slope. He needed Plagg, needed his miraculous. He’d do everything that was necessary, for Paris’ sake, for Ladybug’s sake!

But no need to do something rash, he’d try it the nice way!

Adrien knew this would work.

Adrien knew that it had to.

Adrien-

“...really is a bitch.”, a familiar, although muffled voice declared from somewhere in front of him. Felix! With his last bit of strength, Adrien pushed the doors to Jagged Stone’s studio open. His eyes widened when he saw what had happened.

He was... too late.

Lila stood in the middle of the room, together with Felix and a man he didn’t recognize, even though he looked vaguely familiar. She was frozen in fear, and she had every right to. There were cameras pointed at her from every side, and her classmates stood at the walls like angry bulls. Jagged Stone was patting a smugly grinning Marinette on the shoulder, and Nadja Chamack held a microphone out to the unknown man.

“This is Nadja Chamack, life from the TV tower, 21st arrondissement!”, she almost screamed into her microphone in excitement. “We just witnessed Chief Editor René Bordeaux admitting to have actively and willingly spread false accusations about an aspiring designer, specifically to harm her career. Will you give us a statement about your conspiring with a minor in order to blackmail your son, famous model Felix Leanne?”

The man - René Bordeaux, he remembered him from the fashion show, now! - backed away, arms raising to simultaneously hide his face and gesture through the air

“Y-You’re not allowed to publish that!”, he yelled at her, panic and wrath merging his voice into a shrill shout. “I have not consented to any interviews! As your superior, I order you to stop!”

“Actually, since you are a public figure and I am a journalist investigating your case of corruption, everything that has just been published is perfectly legal.”, Nadja informed him with a wink. “And it doesn’t look like your position as my superior will last much longer.”

”Also, since Lila has signed a declaration of consent just this morning,” Alya chimed in, holding up a document, “she’s fair game as well! Maybe you should’ve read the damn thing, Liar.”

Lila was only now recovering from the shock.

“Y-You guys did so great!”, she tried to fake a smile. “We finally busted that evil producer! I knew you were there, of course, I was just acting to make him spill his deeds-“

“Oh, shut up.”, Felix rolled his eyes at her and walked over to Marinette. “It’s game over for you, so save your excuses!”

Tears welled up in Lila’s eyes, and this time Adrien actually believed they were real.

“I-It wasn’t my idea! He forced me to, René Bordeaux forced me to help him!”

“I deny any involvement in this affair! I want to speak to my lawyers!”

“Come on, guys, you know me! I-I did so much for you, didn’t I?”, Lila whined on. That’s when she spotted him in the door.

“Adrien!”, she all but sobbed. “Tell them! Tell them I’m innocent; I’m the g-good guy!”

He backed away, wishing she hadn’t brought him up. Now the others had noticed him too.

“Is it true what she said?”, Nino said, brows furrowed in frustration. “You knew everything? And you just... did nothing?!”

“What the hell, Adrien?!”, Chloé spat, towering over him like a hawk. “I thought I was the jerk between the two of us!”

He fell to his knees, exhaustion catching up with him. His legs were wobbly of shock.

“No! No, I... I only wanted... I was just trying to protect you!”

“Protect us?”, Alya snarled. “By leaving us at Lila’s mercy, completely unprepared?! I uploaded a shit ton of fake news on my blog thanks to her! If it hadn’t been for Marinette, this could’ve ruined my entire career!”

“I thought we were friends, dude!”, Nino agreed, looking as betrayed as Adrien felt. “But friends don’t lie to each other! And you sure don’t help others with lying to your bro!”

No, no! This couldn’t be happening, no! Not like this, not now, not him!

“Please...”, he whispered, his hand clutching around the lucky charm in his pocket. “I wasn’t... Lila just...”

He couldn’t think of any excuse that wouldn’t sound hollow now. His friends didn’t care as they turned back to Lila, ignoring his slumped figure on the floor as they continued their petty fight.

Adrien didn’t listen to them, too busy with his own despair. He had... failed. At everything.

At being a good friend in the first place. At being there for Ladybug. And now at stopping Marinette from exposing Lila. Everything he did went wrong, everything he put his mind to-

“Cathexis”, a deep voice called and a purple glow illuminated the darkness of his mind. “I am Hawkmoth.”

Adrien froze. The lucky charm beneath his fingers had grown cold, and he couldn’t lift a finger to throw it away. Its cool prickle travelled up his wrist, his arm, into every cell of his body.

“I will give you the power you need to achieve your goals.”, Hawkmoth whispered into his head. “To keep your loved ones close, and your enemies even closer.”

No. No, he was a hero. He couldn’t let himself be turned into another one of Hawkmoth’s monsters.

“You’ve been wronged, haven’t you?”, Hawkmoth continued sweetly. “Ah, you have tried so hard, yet they keep ignoring your advice.”

His fight with Marinette flashed through his mind.

“Rejecting you, even though you have done so much.”

Ladybug pushing him away, again and again and again.

“If they cannot listen...”

Lila had continued to lie, Marinette had kept on plotting against her, Felix just wouldn’t stop being rude...

“...they must feel.”

Adrien’s head lowered and his lips moved on their own, whispering a word he didn’t mean.

“Yes, Hawkmoth.”

His eyes closed as the purple smoke covered him entirely.

“I will reign them in.”

Cathexis smiled.

“And be the hero they deserve.”

“You did it.”, Felix beamed at Marinette and pulled her aside. “I don’t know how, but you did it.”

How had she gotten everyone involved? Their oh-so skeptical class, Nadja Chamack, even Jagged Stone! It seemed impossible, but she had succeeded. He was free, from his father’s lingering shadow and Rossi’s obsessive manipulations. Free, once and for all.

“Of course I did!”, she played it off, cheeks as pink as Rose’s shirt. “I promised you, didn’t I? Besides...”

Her eyes wandered to her classmates.

“It was more of a group effort.”

Felix followed her gaze to the others, who were gathered in the middle of the room. Alya eagerly assisted Madame Chamack in pestering Bordeaux with one cutting question after the other, Nino cheered her on. Chloé led the others in their rage against Lila, who had started to spout every lousy excuse in the book. Sabrina was calling her father at the Police to arrest Bordeaux, who would have a hard time getting out of this one. Juleka and Jagged Stone were comparing the hues of their hair dye, Rose being their obviously biased judge. They were chaotic and loud and ruthless and absolutely amazing.

“I guess I should thank them.”, he said, a smile creeping onto his face. “They’re not so bad, after all.”

Yes. Annoying maybe, but full of loyalty and love for their friends. For Marinette, and after some time, perhaps even for him.

“Still”, he insisted, not here for Marinette not giving herself enough credit. “You are the best. How do you want me to repay you? I could invite you for dinner!”

She shook her head, smiling ironically.

“I think we are past favors and debts, aren’t we?”

Favors and debts, like on their very first day. No, they really had moved on from there. He had moved on, from his obsession with owing nothing to anybody. When he thought back, he could only see fear. That Bordeaux had been right, and every nice thing done for him came at a cost. Now though...

“Then let’s not call it favor.”, he suggested softly. “Let’s call it... a date?”

Part of him was shocked to hear himself even propose that, but rest of him was tired of hesitating. He wanted every second of Marinette’s company he could get, to make up for the days of Lila-induced isolation.

He watched every movement in Marinette’s face, every minute twitch of her lips and eyebrows. At first, her eyes widened and her cheeks turned darker. (Was she blushing? She was blushing! That was a good thing, wasn’t it?)

Then her fingers bolted up to her face, as if to hide it, only to settle for brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I...”, she started, voice two octaves higher then usual. Until finally, her lips curved into a smile. “I’d like that. And I know just the place!”

A mischievous glimmer appeared in her eyes.

“You’ll see when we get there, it’s-“

A scream drowned her voice out and they jumped back. Felix felt his blood run cold. The door had been slammed shut, chained and locked. Where Adrien had kneeled when he’d last checked, a gloomy figure hovered over the floor. It was held up by heavy metal chains that crept over the ground like snakes, apparently not bound by any law of physics. Defying gravity, some of them simply floated next to their wielder, waiting for orders.

The wielder himself looked monstrous enough on his own. His skin was devoid of any color, lifeless and dull like bleached bones. Black stripes ran down his face, like tear stains from his wide, eerie green eyes. His hair shared the stripes’ unsettling color. On top of his head rested a spiked, golden crown that reminded him of a halo.

Knight-like armor adorned with an upside down paw-print protected his torso, and around his wrist was a beaded bracelet of some sorts. From a chain around his other hand dangled a heavy, spiked Morningstar.

The akuma - because what else could he be? - chuckled.

“Much better.”, he sighed. “Now, let’s see... who wronged me the most?”

Without any visible sign, his chains bolted towards Lila, who screamed when her waist was seized by the animated metal. Instinctively, Felix’ hand grabbed Marinette’s. Any fast movement might draw the Akuma’s attention to them, but he needed her to be ready to run as soon as there was a chance.

All eyes were fixed on Lila and her captor, who tapped his chin as the girl quivered before him.

“Oh, you look so scared.”, he gasped. “Poor Lila. It’s just me, good old Adrien! Or... Cathexis, to be exact. Why would you fear me?”

He hummed.

“Maybe... because you know that you used me? Or because you lied to me? Or because you stalked me?” His voice grew louder and louder, and his soothing smile turned into a malicious grimace.

“Or because you ruined my friendships? My school life? My everything?”

Cathexis laughed joylessly, eyes so wide they looked as if they might pop out of his skull.

“Please!”, Lila pleaded desperately. “It wasn’t my fault, I-I only wanted the same thing as you! I promise-“

“SHUT UP!”

Everyone in the room startled, frozen in fear. Marinette gripped his hand more tightly as the chain holding Lila started to glow in the same, cold light Cathexis’ bracelet radiated. It began at its root somewhere behind his shoulder, and slowly spread over the links towards its victim. Lila whimpered.

“See, I am tired of waiting for you to change.”, Cathexis lamented. “I gave you so many chances, but you just won’t listen! So I’ll have to make you a better person myself.”

He grinned, revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth.

“Let’s call it one last emotional investment in you, okay?”

Lila trashed and trembled in her restrains as the glow came closer, tears in her terror-stricken eyes.

“Stop! I’m sorry, but whatever you’re doing, please stop it!”

Marinette twitched, but Felix held her in place. He wouldn’t let her endanger herself for Lila of all people! They could only watch as the light reached its prey. A white flash blinded them, then the chain dissolved and Lila dropped to the floor. She breathed, and her eyes were open, but her gaze was lifeless and empty.

Cathexis sigh broke the silence he’d shocked them into and he looked around.

“So...”, he said with an innocent smile. “Who’s next?”

Cathexis felt strong. He felt quick. He felt ready.

His chains dashed through the room the second he thought about giving the order, and as the people in the room broke out in panic, they seized them with ease. Nino, Alya, Chloé, all immobilized and chained to the ceiling with nothing more than a thought. The chain he had lost by fixing Lila was regrowing, and he directed it towards Marinette. His dear friend had started to guide the others to the back of the room and behind a curtain, cherishing the hope they might find safety there. Felix was next to her, but he could wait. For now, his ring was priority number one.

With a flick of his wrist he send the chain flying. It wrapped around Marinette’s wrist before she even noticed he was targeting her, and he had pulled her into the air in a heartbeat. Ignoring Felix’s scream, he retreated to the other side of the room.

Hawkmoth’s approval humming through his head, he sunk on eye-level with her, dodging the punch she’d aimed at his face. Another chain wrapped around her, fixing her arms at her side.

“Marinette!”, he rebuked her with a raised finger. “You should never react with violence, don’t you know that?”

“Let me go!”, his mannerless friend snarled. “What did you do with Lila?”

He knew the question sourced from fear for herself rather than concern for Lila, but he pretended otherwise for the moment. Soon, she’d care about Lila for real. And about him. And about any other person he chose to fix. They’d be a big happy family, with no problems or flaws under his watch. But first...

“You know what I’m looking for, Marinette.”

She froze and his eyes darted to the bump in the fabric above her collarbone.

“It’s fate that brought it back to me, so soon after I lost it.”, he whispered with a blissful smile. “You have it, don’t you? I saw it on you. My little secret, I want it back now.”

Marinette’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Lost it... wait, your secret?”

Her jaw dropped as her mind caught up.

“You!”

“Yes, me.”, he admitted happily. “You understand, don’t you? I need it back. Once Hawkmoth is done with it, I’ll be Chat Noir again. It’s my destiny! Surely, you wouldn’t want to stand in the way of a hero.”

Marinette looked absolutely shocked. Devastated even - hopefully at the thought of hindering Chat Noir. But the way her face hardened told him otherwise.

“It’s no longer yours!”, she hissed. “And you’re a fool if you think Hawkmoth would just give it back to you, once he has it.”

He sighed.

“The hard way, then.”

The chains tightened around her as he concentrated, focusing his energy on her. She was his friend. He’d done so much for her; he deserved something in return. But before he could conjure the light into his chains, pain flared in his right cheek and he was thrown sideways.

“Argh!”

More startled than hurt, he rubbed his cheek and looked around. The moment of distraction had been enough to make his chains go slack, enough to let Marinette free herself. His eyes fixated on the culprit. Felix stood in the middle of the room, arm still raised from the punch he’d given.

“Ah.”, the stubborn annoyance of a boy sighed, despite his obvious fear. “That was cathartic.”

“You!”, Cathexis growled, summoning his chains. “I’ll make you regret ever coming to our school.”

Oh, he wouldn’t fix Felix, no, no, no. The rude bastard didn’t deserve this mercy, and Cathexis wouldn’t invest his emotional energy in a guy whose akuma had cost him Plagg! No, Felix would meet a far harsher fate. Cathexis raised his Morningstar and swung it through the air to gain momentum. With a battle cry, he hurled the spiked sphere at his enemy, who threw himself aside just in time to avoid getting turned into a pancake. Again and again Cathexis took aim, using his sentient chains to block Felix’ path. Finally, when he had nowhere left to run, the Akuma called his weapon back to attack one last time.

“I should’ve done this sooner!”, he cackled gleefully. “It would have saved me so much trouble, you living nuisance!”

He swung the Morningstar, blind and deaf to anything except his target. A mistake, as it turned out. He couldn’t hear the creaking of metal over his own laughter, couldn’t see the beams for the cameras at the ceiling move. Only when they crashed down on him he realized he should have payed more attention to Marinette.

“No, no!”

Trapped beneath the crashed metal structure he could only watch as Marinette - the crafty pain in the butt - climbed down from the bars of the supporting column, pulling Felix with her. The two of them vanished behind the curtains at the back, and when he send out his chains to rip the fabric apart, he understood why.

“A backdoor!”, Hawkmoth growled. Of course, that’s why no one had been inside anymore. “Idiot! Now the girl escaped with the ring, our ring!”

Groaning, Cathexis pushed the beams and bars off of himself and stood up.

“I’ll hunt them down!”, he swore and called his chains back to him. “They can’t run from me!”

“No.”, Hawkmoth stopped him. “No, wait. The Cat Miraculous is already close, but Ladybug is still missing. Call her here, then go after the ring.”

Cathexis nodded as the violet glow faded from his face. His Lady would be here shortly! Until then, he could bring Chloé, Alya and Nino under his contr- supervision. They were still struggling with their restraints, but not much longer.

“Lila!”, he barked for his new ally and the brunette stood up. “Get the camera working. I need to alert Ladybug.”

“Of course!”, she obliged with a smile. “Then I can apologize to her. We’ll be great friends, with your help!”

Cathexis grinned and bared his fangs as she got to work. Soon, he told himself. His chained friends looked at him in fear.

Soon.

#miramu writes #wttb #welcome to the back #felinette fanfic #felinette #ml felix #ml marinette #akuma!adrien #cathexis

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ai-suru-hito-yo · 5 years

Text

Waiting For Someone To Release Me (Pt. 2)

Let’s hope Tumblr Bumblr doesn’t mess up the formatting on mobile like it did part one!

Word Count: 4k+

Summary: Your ex causes a scene which leads to one hell of an end to the night. But it’s not all bad, is it?

Warnings: harrassment, mentions of alcoholism/alcohol abuse, some minor violence, homophobia (not from any of the boys) and accompanying language

A/N: Here is part twooooo!! I tried to be *aware* and include some actual slang terms from the 1970′s. Did you know much of today’s common slang started in the 1970′s? It’s pretty interesting. Anyway, I promise this will coincide with the song “Genie In A Bottle” more as it progresses. We’re still kind of in the beginning.

Unbeta‘d. Unedited. On this blog, we die on our own swords.

Part 1

You froze, eyes wide, completely unable to move as a chill ran down your spine. You knew you had heard someone calling your name earlier. It had to be him. It simply had to be.

John's face turned from confusion to concern in front of you. You very much hoped he had not heard the rude comment Charlie had just made, for you had the feeling it had been directed at John, as he was the only person you were talking to.

“(Y/N), what's wr-”

“”Ey!” Charlie shouted in your direction again. “(Y/N)! I know you can 'ear me. Come on luvvie, don' ignore me. Wassit take for a man to get a drink 'ere? This is a pub, innit?”

John seemed to register your discomfort then, and started to turn toward Charlie before you shook your head at him. His eyebrows furrowed in frustration and confusion, but he remained facing you. You took a deep breath before turning away, saying to John, “I'll handle him and then I'll be right back, okay?”

John nodded and you plastered on your fakest smile.

“Charlie. Long time no see. What are you drinking?” Charlie ignored your question as he leaned over the bar, drunkenly swaying and nearly losing his balance.

“See I knew you 'eard me! Come a little closer, luvvie, don' be shy, now! You never were a shy one 'round me!”

You felt your cheeks heat a little as some people down the bar had turned to look at you and Charlie. You knew you would likely not get out of this without Charlie causing a huge scene first. Part of you was aching to look back at John for support, but another part of you told you that was not a good idea.

“Yeah, sorry Charlie, I was with another customer. I'm free now, though, so what can I get you? An ale? Lager?”

You tried to tempt him with something a little less potent, as it was clear to you that he had too much already. In his state, however, he was having none of it.

“Tell me, (Y/N), why did you leave? We 'ad a good thing goin', yeah? You an' me, we was good for each other. An' you just walked away from it.”

You were starting to feel nauseous, partly from the memories of nights spent with Charlie just like this, him drunk out of his mind, and you either trying to drag him from the bar, or drag him off the floor outside his flat and into bed to sleep it off.

“You know exactly why, Charlie. Now if you don't mind, I am on the clock and we are very busy tonight. Either place a drink order, or leave. I have other customers to attend to.”

“Oh yeah, 'other customers', I see,” Charlie said narrowed eyes. “You mean that band of poofters you been trailing like a cheap whore all night?”

You did look toward the end of the bar then to see if John had heard this, only to find he had left his seat and it was instead taken by a young woman who seemed to be in her own world. Dread settled into your stomach. John surely must think poorly of you now, knowing you had been associated with a chump.

“Don't say that Charlie. They're actually perfectly fine gents, and their inclinations are none of my business, as our interactions are strictly professional.”

Charlie ignored your comment, his expression turning predatory. Despite the solid wood bar between you, the look made you take a step back.

“Ditch 'em and come 'ave a drink with me. For old time's sake. We can relive the good days, I'll show you a good time none of those fairies ever could.”

You were truly angry now. You had no idea what you had ever seen in this idiot, but you were disgusted by his language and his behavior, especially toward a bunch of complete strangers.

“I can't. I told you, I'm working. And I think you need to le-”

“Bunch of poofters is what they are, dressing like that, paintin' their fingers an' faces, an' all that 'air. I actually thought that drummer was a chick, you know? What kind of man looks and sounds like that? He better watch himself, one of these days he'll get 'is arse kicked for prancin' around like that.”

“You mean like this?” a now familiar voice came from behind Charlie. He whipped around, nearly losing his balance, to reveal Roger standing right behind him with a murderous expression on his face. Before you could react, Roger brought his arm back and threw his whole body into the swing he aimed at Charlie. You watched in horror as you heard a sickening crunch, and Charlie immediately hit the floor. Roger shouted and immediately clutched his fist to his chest. He leaned over Charlie, who was still on the floor, completely dazed, and shouted down at him, “You are one sick fuck, talking like that. It's one thing to insult me, but when you come after my band or after innocent, hard-working people, that's when I have a problem.”

A movement from the corner of your eye caught your attention, and you looked up just in time to see John return with the pub manager, Mike, who caught the tail end of Roger's tirade. The bar had gone silent, and you could see Brian toward the back of the crowd now gathered around, craning his long neck to try and figure out what was happening. He soon disappeared, and you stood frozen, staring at John like a deer caught in headlights. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, moving forward slowly to collect Roger and pull him away from Charlie.

“What the hell is going on here?” Mike had turned to you now, and you could no longer hold back the tears that had been threatening to escape since you first heard Charlie's voice.

“Um, well, you see,” you started, but you were unsure how to continue. You did not want everybody knowing your business, but you wanted to make sure your manager knew that Roger was provoked into action as well.

“That man,” John spoke up, pointing to Charlie on the floor. “He was...saying some rather rude and terrible things about (Y/N). I think he had too many and was absolutely out of his mind, but he didn't seem inclined to stop when asked, either. I don't know when my friend got involved, as I left to find you.”

“Uh huh,” Mike responded, glaring daggers at Roger, who was still cradling his hand close to his body. Suddenly springing into action at Roger's obvious discomfort, you reach under the bar for a clean towel and dump a hefty scoop of ice into it, wrapping it up before moving around the bar toward Roger. You pressed the towel lightly to his hand, causing him to hiss in pain.

“Sorry, sorry!” you exclaim, you only wanted to help him after what he had done for you.

“It's okay,” he said through gritted teeth. He took the ice pack from you, took a deep breath, and thanked you for it.

“Perhaps we should take this to the office,” said Mike. “All five of you! And somebody get that idiot out of here!”

Once outside the office, Mike told you to wait while he talked to the band first. After about 15 minutes of explanation followed by shouting, which mostly seemed to come from Roger and Freddie, the door flew open again, and the boys stormed out, each with a thunderous expression on his face.

“(Y/N)!” came Mike's voice from inside the office. This was it. You knew you were done at the pub, and all thanks to Charlie. Would the man ever leave you alone?

You sat down in one of the chairs in front of Mike's paper-strewn desk, noticing the now sopping wet towel you had filled with ice for Roger sitting in the other one.

Mike sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before addressing you. “Frankly, I'm rather disappointed in you, (Y/N).”

You felt a spike of anger at Mike's words. None of this was your fault. You had tried to handle the situation professionally and quietly. Why were you being reprimanded? You decided to remain quiet and listen to what Mike had to say before arguing.

“Turn in your apron and your key after your shift is over. You're done here.”

“What?!” You felt as if you had been slapped. You did not understand. You had done nothing wrong. It was not you who threw any punches or said any one of the rude things that had flown across the bar that night. “I didn't do anything wrong, Mike!”

“You were involved in the situation. I cannot tolerate any of this nonsense.” Mike sighed deeply before continuing. “We're trying to run a respectable business here, and now I have to do some major damage control.”

“How is firing me damage control?” you argued. “I was simply doing my job, you know, trying to serve patrons! You said not four hours ago when I came on that I was your best, most professional server.”

“And you are! But every single person who witnessed that saw you as part of it! What am I supposed to do? If I keep you on and any of those people come back to see you still here, do you know what that would do for this establishent's reputation?”

“Do you not think people will notice when you fired your best employee over a matter that wasn't even her fault?”

“My decision is final, (Y/N). I cannot tolerate this. Finish your shift and turn in your apron and key.”

You sat there for a moment, head cocked in contemplation over everything that had happened in the last 30 minutes. Then, deciding you had nothing to lose, you stood up, removed your apron, and tossed it and the wet towel directly onto your now ex-manager's paperwork. You crossed to the door, threw it open with a satisfying bang! and walked out with your head held high, pausing only to look back with a very clear, “Fuck you, Michael.”

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You sped back out to the bar area, hoping desperately that the boys would still be there. It was almost empty, all the patrons, including Charlie, having cleared out. The only people left were your ex-coworkers, the bands, and the sound technician. You spotted Queen still shuffling around their equipment, which was now entirely packed and ready to be loaded out. You rushed over, calling out as you came closer. All four heads turned toward you, and you immediately made a beeline for Roger, throwing your arms around his shoulders and pulling him close.

“Oi watch the hand!” he said, before seeming to realize what was happening. He gingerly wrapped his arms around your middle, giving you a little squeeze in return before pulling back. “What's that for?”

“Thank you, Roger. For sticking up for me. I mean, I know you were sticking up for your friends, and that he said terrible things about you, too, but I heard you outside Mike's office earlier. I heard you tell him the awful things Charlie was saying to me. Thanks for trying to get me out of trouble.”

He looked at you with an unreadable expression before smiling softly. He looked away nervously before bringing his good hand up to rub at his chest beneath his slightly unbuttoned shirt. “It was nothing. Somebody had to shut him up.”

“It wasn't nothing, Roger. It means the world to me. You and John both tried to help, and I couldn't possibly thank you enough. I really couldn't.” You tried to sound as genuine as possible as you turned to look for John, but he was nowhere to be found. Before you could ask, Freddie had moved forward to hug you as well.

“What happened, dear? Is everything sorted out?”

“Well, sort of,” you said, looking between the three men who were watching you.

“He fired you, didn't he?” Brian asked.

“Don't be silly, Bri, why would he do that? (Y/N) did nothing wrong!” Freddie admonished him.

“Actually...,” you made eye contact with Brian, who immediately pursed his lips.

Freddie gasped, “No! Certainly not? Why would he do that?”

“He said he 'cannot tolerate that sort of nonsense, we are trying to run a respectable business here and now I have to do some major damage control' whatever that's supposed to mean.”

Roger spoke up at that, looking incensed once again, “I'm gonna talk to him. He can't do that!”

“No!” you shouted a little too loudly. Roger turned to you with a look of surprise. “No, Roger,” you said softly. “Thank you, but don't worry about it. I kind of already made it final myself. Even if he wanted me back, I wouldn't do it.”

“What happened in there?” Brian asked.

You explained to them what you did and watched as smiles grew on their faces.

Freddie took one of your hands between his. You felt yourself growing more fond of this ragtag ensemble by the minute. “He certainly deserved that, dear. Though we should probably be thankful our dear drummer hasn't landed himself in the slammer. I am terribly sorry for this whole mess. You certainly didn't deserve any of this, you are completely innocent.”

“It's okay Freddie. It was probably time for me to move on anyway. I was getting kind of tired of this job and my class schedule is picking up, I should find a different job. Anyway, enough about me. What happened with you four in there? To be honest, after the way Mike overreacted with me, I'm also kind of surprised you haven't been arrested, Roger.”

“Well, he wanted to. No matter how much I tried to tell him he indirectly threatened me. Brian finally talked him down, though.”

You turned toward Brian expectantly.

“I convinced him that if he didn't call the police or let this...situation become more known about than it already will be, we would finish packing up and leave and never come back again. He agreed to the terms after telling us that if he saw any of us within a one block radius again, he'd call the police.”

You scoffed. “What a prick. Besides, he doesn't have say over the whole block or who is on it. I'm finding myself more and more glad to be rid of him.”

“It's a shame, though. I liked playing here. Good acoustics, great crowd.”

“Oh, I wouldn't worry about it, Brian,” you told him with a genuine smile. “I have a feeling Queen is destined for much better venues than stinky, dingy pubs on poorly lit streets.”

At that moment, Mike came out of the office, his hands full of the wet bar towel and apron you had tossed at him. Freddie saw him, too, and immediately prompted Roger and Brian into packing up the rest of their gear and leaving before “that complete berk decides to call the cops anyway”. You offered to help since Roger was injured, and you felt it was the least you could do for their kindness and all the trouble they had faced over the course of the evening. You quickly ran to the back, grabbing your coat and purse, before dropping your key on the table where Mike would find it, before joining the three men again. It was then that you remembered their fourth member was still missing.

“Where's John?” you asked, looking around the bar but seeing no sign of him. Brian looked around as well.

“His coat and all his equipment are gone. He must have packed up already and decided to wait outside. I think tonight may have been a little bit too much action for him.”

“Oh,” was all you said as you grabbed Roger's cymbal case. You felt especially bad now about how the evening had gone. You knew none of it was your fault, but you had been having such a wonderful conversation with John, it had been a good night only to fall apart in the blink of an eye.

Once outside the pub, you followed the boys over to an old beater of a van where you could just barely see John's silhouette in the front passenger's seat. John spotted all of you coming down the road and quickly exited the van, moving to the back doors in just a few long strides and opening them to load the equipment in. As you approached you tried to catch John's eye but he stayed focused on each piece of equipment as fit it all into the van with practiced precision. You felt quite disheartened, and knew for sure then that John wanted nothing to do with you anymore. You passed off the cymbal case as the last piece of equipment, taking care not to brush John's fingers with your own in the process. You stepped back as they inspected the fit and closed the doors up. Roger then passed the keys to John, claiming he couldn't drive with his bruised hand. John took them and immediately climbed into the passenger's seat.

You looked around before deciding to take a shortcut home, and turned back to say goodbye to the three men still gathered around the back of the van.

“Well, goodnight, gents. It's been lovely meeting you, and it was a good night for the most part. I look forward to seeing where your future takes you!”

“Where do you think you're going, dear?” Freddie asked.

“Um...home?” You were unsure why it came out as a question, as that was the only place you would be going at that time of night.

“You're going to walk?” Brian asked. “At two in the morning, down a less-than-reputable London street?”

“Get real,” Roger interjected. “Come on, we'll give you a lift.”

“It's okay guys, I really don't live very far, and I know a shortcut,” you countered, but they were having none of it.

“I'm afraid it's not a request,” Freddie said, reaching toward you. He took your hand and pulled you toward the front of the van. “Come on, you'll sit up front with Deacy.”

“Deacy?”

“Yes. Darling Deacy. It's short for Deacon,” Freddie explained, but when you still looked confused, Brian clarified.

“He doesn't mean like a priest. Deacon is John's last name. John Deacon, Roger Taylor, Freddie Mercury, and Brian May.”

“Oh!�� you exclaimed, smacking your hand to your head. “Sorry, the last hour has been such a bad trip. I think my brain is fried.”

Brian smiled his kind smile and waved you off. “It's alright, you didn't know. Let's get you home so you can sleep it off, yeah? I need the same myself.”

Though you were reluctant to climb into the front next to John, Freddie insisted, and you knew it would not be a very long drive. You were sure you could tough it out long enough to get home, and it would be that much sooner you would be able to get into bed and not have to face reality until much later tomorrow. You climbed in and closed the door, glancing up at John who was staring straight out of the windscreen.

“How far do you live?” he asked quietly as the other three climbed into the single bench seat and tried to make themselves comfortable.

“Um, about ten blocks that way,” you pointed to the left, and John glanced that way. “It's easy to get to, only one turn from here.”

“Alright,” he answered, looking forward again. “Freddie and Roger live about four blocks that way, mind if I drop them first?”

“Not at all,” you answered, and you settled in for a quiet ride home.

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The moon shone brightly above you as Freddie and Roger disappeared safely up the steps to their block of flats. You watched it out your window as John started to pull away, and you heard him sigh. You checked behind you to see that Brian was fast asleep before turning to address the elephant in the room-well, van.

“John?” you asked quietly.

“Yes?” he responded, eyes not leaving the road as he stopped at the intersection.

“John I know we don't really know each other, but I have to ask you, did I do something wrong?”

He did turn to look at you then, his head moving so fast you thought you heard a crack, hair flying wildly around his shoulders. You quickly tried to explain yourself, hoping to save some face.

“I just mean, like, I thought we were having a nice conversation and I was really loving the music, and I really mean that, John. I love Queen's music and I really think you all are great-”

“(Y/N).”

“-and I was enjoying talking with you and it seemed like you were having a good night, too, but then Charlie came in and it was all such a mess and-”

“(Y/N).”

“-I really would like to come see you play again but if you don't want me to I understand. I would just like to know so I don't make a fool of myself again-”

“(Y/N)!” John's shout in the closed space finally got your attention. You quickly looked back to see if he had woken Brian, but the curly hair man was still sound asleep. You turned around again as John pulled to the curb and put the van in park. He finally turned to face you, and you felt a short lived sense of relief seeing those green eyes once more before panic settled in.

“(Y/N), please stop. None of that was your fault. None of it. If anyone is to blame for how things turned out, it's me. You should be the one who doesn't want to see me anymore.”

“What?” your voice jumped an octave, and you heard Brian snuffle behind you in his sleep. You immediately quieted down again before continuing. “What do you mean I should be the one who doesn't want to see you? What are you talking about?”

“Well, it's my fault Mike saw what was happening and saw you in the middle of it. I panicked and went to find him like...like some primary school child tattling to the teacher on the class bully. If I hadn't brought him into it, he might never have known what happened or between whom. And now I got the band kicked out of a good gig pub forever, and now you're probably in deep with your boss and-”

“Ex-boss,” you supplied automatically, and you immediately knew it was the exact wrong thing to say. John's mouth fell open and his eyes widened, face falling in a shattered look.

“Wh-what? He fired you?!”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“Great!” John cried in exasperation, his head falling to rest against the steering wheel in front of him. “Just great! That's what I get for trying to go about things peacefully! I narrowed the band's chances of booking more gigs. I got you fired from your gig!”

You reached out hesitantly and laid a hand on John's shoulder. When it wasn't immediately shrugged off, you took it as a good sign and gave a little squeeze.

“John. Please look at me, John.” The guilt-ridden man before you took a deep breath before sitting up again, pinning you with a very doubtful look. “It's not your fault, either. No, don't interrupt me, please. None of that was your fault, either. It wasn't even Roger's fault, though maybe he could have found another way to handle things. Neither of you would have felt the need to do what you did if Charlie hadn't shown up acting like a fool in the first place. What you did, what you both did, means so much to me. I barely know you, you barely know me, but you went out of your way to help me. You've got a heart of gold, John Deacon, and I can't imagine how the night would have ended if you four hadn't been here to help me out. It was time for me to move on from that gig anyway. It was getting old, and it was too much fore me to handle with my class schedule.

John was still giving you that sad look, so you reached out and shook him gently until he could not help but smile.

“I'm thankful, John! This night gave me a kick in the arse to get me moving onto the next great adventure!”

John was smiling genuinely now, and glanced down before turning back toward the front, nodding as he declared, “Well, I suppose if you're alright with it, I'm alright with it, too.”

“Totally! Now, take me home, John Deacon, and get sleeping beauty back here to his own bed. I'm afraid if he stays in that position much longer, he'll be stuck like that permanently.”

John glanced into the back seat and laughed at Brian's awkward position before he shifted gears and pulled back onto the street.

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It was only after you watched John pull away, Brian now awake and sitting in the much roomier front seat, that you realized you had no idea when or where Queen would be playing again, nor did you have any way of contacting any of your new friends to find out.

#john deacon x reader #john deacon x you #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #John Deacon #roger taylor #brian may #freddie mercury #Waiting For Someone To Release Me #wfstrm #tw: harassment #tw: alcohol abuse #tw: alcohol mention #tw: homophobia #tw: language

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satan-is-a-part-timer · 4 years

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Drama explained

Hello. I'm Lucifer, and I am a very small, not really known artist in the hetalia community who turned 16 back in october. I'm a panromantic asexual and frankly I joke a lot to compensate and fit in.

But recently, there was a drama. Before I get into it, I'd like to state that I bear no ill will towards anyone mentioned or tagged in this post. The only person tagged will actually be an au hub, and I hope you all know better than to attack people.

Don't fucking do it. I don't condone it, and I'm only tagging them for awareness since I know that things are all mixed up even now.

The drama is about me.

Back when I first decided that I wanted another au community to join after being rejected from rejoining an au (it came as a surprise, since I was under the illusion they would let me back in (they refused to tell me why I'm banned)) I had gotten onto a voice call with two friends. Both friends were mods on a brand new au, the @aph-aquaverse-hub. They seemed quite happy to introduce me to the concept of the au, and so I sent in a couple asks set to public. From my memory, only one was posted. This was the only way anyone aside from these two friends would have known that I may have been joining, and at the time I was joking. Eventually I decided to get serious, and made some art for the blog while I sent in an ask.

I was denied because someone I used to know- someone I had not talked to in months, and the last message from them was on the 3rd of November- sent in a long spiel about how I made them uncomfortable, about how my two friends and a person in aquaverse- this person is my co-owner on another au- are all untrustworthy and about how I sent porn to minors. Now, I never sent porn to anyone- frankly most of it disgusts me, and most nsfw makes me want to puke.

But that's not the point, is it? The point is that this person lied about three of my closest friends. This person and a mod from another au both spread misinformation about the people I care most about. Saying one was banned, that the other is rude and can't be trusted. Insulting people and insinuating that nobody I know is trustworthy.

Now, I have nothing against pagen, but seeing as both mods brought her several stacks of screenshots, and yet one left after being demoted from mod, the other being banned because this person ran crying to her the moment someone else is being slightly 'rude', means that I have full rein to spread this knowledge.

But this isn't about Pagen.

The two of you who decided to spread this misinformation and hurt people- one who isn't even as old as I am, while one of you is an adult- disgust me. You'll know who you are when you read this.

I wasn't going to make this post, but to the person who ran crying to Pagen after somehow finding out I'd join; do you really watch my public asks that much? You know very well if you had a problem with me you could've said something, but y'know. You said you don't like me.

You are a lying, duplicitous backstabber who can't be trusted as far as she can be thrown. Innocent people were dragged into this. You apologised to my co-owner, but you're only truly sorry about what you said about him. Not the people who's reputations you ruined. But you're not sorry, are you? That means this post is still fair game.

This is 2020 people. It's not the fucking spoctor drama. Sending nsfw to minors is a crime. It's not to be taken lightly. Stop spreading petty shit, so I don't have to make these salty callouts.

#drama #hetalia #hetalia au #axis powers hetalia #hetalia world series #hetalia world stars #hetalia world twinkle

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alyssabethancourt · 5 years

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A Unique Spin on the Fantasy Genre

from the blog It Came From the 20th Century, filmmaker Jonathan R. Skocik:

Okay, strictly speaking, this falls outside the parameters of this blog, since it is not from the 20th century. However, I’m making an exception in this case because I want to help promote an excellent book that deserves to be read.

Elves, castles, magic, kings and queens, swordplay, imaginary languages – yes, we’ve seen all this before, and Alyssa Marie Bethancourt’s debut novel, Mornnovin has them in droves. That is not to say these elements are automatically tired in any way. There’s a reason we keep revisiting them. But in the wrong hands, they can admittedly feel stale or even silly. Fortunately, Ms. Bethancourt knows her genre, and navigates the material with ease. The best fantasy will make you forget that it’s fantasy, allowing you to completely buy in to what you’re reading. Mornnovin is such a novel. Beyond this, however, and perhaps more importantly, it gives us a wholly fresh perspective in that the author is autistic, and her elven characters are also coded as such.

Bethancourt’s elves are emotional basket cases. Their feelings run the gamut, their internal lives raging storms of passion, guilt, and self-recrimination, yet they are expected to maintain a veneer of stoicism that would make Mr. Spock proud, even to the point of making elaborate hand gestures to indicate their feelings rather than allow a genuine emotion to reach their faces. These elves are no Vulcans, though, and their ability to maintain this cool facade is, shall we say, less well-perfected than their sci-fi counterparts. This is, in fact, an amazingly on-point depiction of the autistic experience. People on the spectrum spend most of their lives learning to hide what they’re really feeling, having been told over and over that their expressions of emotion are inappropriate. For this reason, autistics are often viewed as cold, rude, and distant. But this is largely learned behavior, the only reaction that makes any sense when it seems like everything you do is wrong.

That Bethancourt’s autism stand-ins are literally not human reflects the feeling many on the spectrum experience of not really being a part of humanity, of being aliens in their own world. This is further illustrated by the state of isolation in which the elves of Mornnovin have placed themselves. They live in Evlédíen, also called the Valley, hidden away from the rest of the world to protect themselves from the humans who once tried to exterminate them. The Purification, as the humans call it, could be viewed as a parallel for the erasure experienced by autistic people every day. Often, the lives and perspectives of the autistic community are ignored. The clueless and ignorant have even gone as far as to say that autistic people are not even really people, and that those on the spectrum actually have no inner life, no genuine feelings or sense of identity. What is this if not a low-key extermination, if not in fact, at least in spirit?

Onto this stage emerges our heroine, Loralianasa Raia, nicknamed Lorien. Though she’s over a hundred years old, she’s only just on the cusp of adulthood in elf terms. As the crown princess whose parents have long-since been murdered, she now faces the unwelcome responsibility of ruling her people. To make matters worse, this coincides with a global war among the humans as well as a sinister plot that soon drags the elves back onto the world stage. Lorien now faces the almost unthinkable decision to expose the existence of her people to the rest of the world in an effort to save the very people who once brought them to the brink of extinction. This funhouse lens coming-of-age story perfectly illustrates the exaggerated gravity that an autistic person faces upon joining the adult world. In much the same way that Joss Whedon’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer used monsters as a metaphor for growing up and learning adult responsibility, so does Bethancourt use her fantasy landscape of imagined cultures in a global war engineered by a vengeful sorcerer.

Of course, no coming-of-age story would be complete without a romance, and Bethancourt does not fail to deliver the goods. The concept of lovers bound by a telepathic link has perhaps been done to death in numerous online fanfics, but this manages to feel fresh, perhaps because of the earnestness with which it is written. It might also have to do with how truly endearing the love interest is. Naoise (pronounced Nee-shuh) Raynesley is the prince of Grenlec, a kingdom at war with their longtime rival, Telrisht. We meet him in the first chapter and there’s instant sparkage with Lorien. He’s bright, kind, open-minded, thoughtful, and witty. Indeed, he borders on being a Mary Sue, though thankfully never quite crosses the line. By the end of their first encounter, Naoise and Lorien are mystically joined, and though separated afterward for a large chunk of the story, their love grows stronger and stronger through the psychic bond they don’t even know they share. Visiting each other in dreams, they become each other’s only solace from the hellscape their world has become – though Naoise arguably has it worse, being that he’s stuck on the front lines of a battle that seems frustratingly unwinnable for reasons that will eventually become ominously clear.

As the story unfolds, we’re introduced to a colorful cast of supporting characters as intriguing and memorable as anything offered up by J.K. Rowling, Marvel, or even Tolkien himself. There’s Lorien’s sister Lyn, who having been raised away from her people has never learned their stoicism and therefore expresses herself with some delightfully creative profanity. We’ve also got Naoise’s womanizing brother, who manages to be charming despite being a total heel; a mercenary named Cole who struggles to outlive his shady past; the brusque elf warrior Sovoqatsu questing to fulfill a sense of purpose; and Sefaro, a good-natured ambassador from a distant country who serves as the moral compass of the group. Aside from the main party, there’s Lorien’s taskmaster guardian, Tomanasil; Naoise’s overbearing father, King Lorn; and a mysterious fairy named Sun.

But the greatest gem, for me at least, is the villain, Kataki Kurome, a sorcerer grieving over the murder of his wife at the hands of the humans. He engineers the war between Grenlec and Telrisht as a way to thin the herd and lessen the task he’s set for himself of annihilating humanity. He easily could have been a thinly-written mustache twirler, but Bethancourt gives him depth, pain, and a cold civility that at once makes him relatable and utterly terrifying. His cold determination, detached sense of purpose, devious craftiness, and sheer power make him seem utterly unbeatable. This, coupled with his age and inflexibility make him the perfect foil for the young and idealistic Lorien, who was already overwhelmed by the adult world even before the shit hit the fan.

No character is ignored, and Bethancourt not only gives depth and individuality to all of her primary characters, but breathes life and personality into even the most minor characters. Such a task naturally requires a lot of breathing room, and Mornnovin is not a short book. But it never overstays its welcome, and indeed the epic scope of the proceedings demands the necessary space to unfold. Beyond that, the pace never wavers, and the novel’s bulk is never daunting. Quite the contrary. This is the kind of expertly-woven story that draws you right in and keeps you anticipating each new development. Mornnovin isn’t just one of the best fantasy stories I’ve ever read. It’s easily one of the best novels I’ve read in recent memory, and I eagerly await the next installment in the series, due out next year.

Mornnovin is printed by Dogwood House press and is available from all major online booksellers.

Full disclosure: I am married to the author. However, this is my honest assessment of the piece.

-- Jonathan R. Skocik

#autism #autistic #elves #epic #fantasy #novel #magic #sorcerer #sorcery #review #book review

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kotolocke · 5 years

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Entry #01: New Bark & Beyond.

God it really has been a week since I started this blog and I still haven’t updated it? Gotta stop being useless and post more regularly. I’ve made decent headway into the game so I have several posts I need to make about it. So let’s get started. I’ll save y’all from a long summary of the game events and stick with just mentioning important game-play stuff and how Lyra reacts to them.

First up: Elm’s request.

This whole little introductory quest that Elm sends her on is actually kinda meaningful to her perception of herself as a trainer. In blog cannon, Lyra immediately goes to collect her starter from Elm after having a massive argument with her Mum about leaving home, which ended with her Mum basically pushing her out of the door and telling her she wouldn’t care if she came back. She would. She didn’t mean it, she was just lashing out. But Lyra didn’t know that and she ran most of the way to the lab choking back tears.

So she takes a deep breath, calms herself down and as soon as she’s in the lab, Elm’s asking her to act as a representative of the lab and complete an important task for them. At this point, Lyra’s already been helping out around the lab for some time so this isn’t entirely out of the ordinary. But being asked to take care of a “real” “discovery” one of Elm’s peers has made whilst she’s still highly fraught from a fight but is pretending that she’s totally fine? This is the basis of the person she becomes. Someone who thinks of herself as a highly important “chosen person” who cannot express her real emotions or else she’ll won’t be taken seriously or allowed to follow her goals. Because something tells me Elm wouldn’t be too comfy sending a crying eleven year old off into the wild world of Pokemon after a big fight with her parents.

Next up: Lyra’s starter.

Meet Cabbage!

She’s an extremely sheltered Chikorita who honestly never thought she was actually going to end up travelling with a trainer. Surely she was just going to spend the rest of her life in the lab with the Professor? Lyra decided otherwise, and decided primarily because she was the only girl of the three Pokemon Elm was raising. Lyra was anticipating getting some flack for being a young girl on a Pokemon journey so she kinda projected some of this onto Cabbage. Moron boy trainers would probably turn their nose up a cute, female Pokemon so she should had to take Cabbage with her so she wouldn’t feel like she was anyone’s last choice.

Cabbage would have been okay with that but unfortunately can’t tell Lyra how she feels. She’s just gotta learn to embrace all the terrifying Pokemon battles Lyra puts her through. Which happens surprisingly quickly; Lyra’s an impatient girl but she always gives her Pokemon the time they need to adjust. Speaking of adjust:

Cabbage is legitimately confused and slightly irritated about her nickname. It’s the first of many little annoyances that eventually lead to her becoming stubborn and standoffish towards Lyra as she grows more confident.

Next: Mr. Pokemon & Professor Oak.

In terms of character development, this whole scenario kinda bolsters Lyra’s ego even more. But I want to single it out because it’s the start of one of her three major plot threads:

This fckin’ egg. This egg is important and eventually hatches into one of Lyra’s core team members. This egg is also lowkey a symbol of everything early journey Lyra thinks about herself. She’s so unique and powerful and special, Elm can see she’s naturally good with Pokemon so he chose her to go on this dangerous quest to collect a mysterious egg! And better yet, during this quest the esteemed Professor Oak, advisory to the legendary Red, asks her if she can help him out with something too!

He gives her a high-tech Pokedex, an item so exclusive that only a handful of trainers own one? Wow she must be the best trainer out there, she’s only just got her first Pokemon and everyone’s falling over themselves to get her to do trainer stuff for them. Clearly she’s hyper naturally talented and all the smart Pokemon experts know it! She’s a dumbass child. I love her.

Anyway, why’s the egg important you ask? Oh—

—no reason.

And finally: Silver.

Did you know: Lyra absolutely hates Silver’s guts pretty much until she sees he also hates Team Rocket? Because he kinda epitomises the older boys who would belittle her for being a girl who wanted to be a trainer?

It’s pretty clear to Lyra that Silver kinda knows some shit about Pokemon training because she hears him muttering shit about Elm’s lab being “famous”. Bitch, the only people that Elm’s famous to are fringe nutcase trainers who breed for something they call IVs because he’s basically lord high king of egg knowledge or whatever. That makes it doubly annoying when Silver tries to kick her when she asks if he’s getting a Pokemon there too and twice as satisfying when she knocks him over with a retaliation kick and stamps off righteously. She’s especially glad that she chose Cabbage at this point; just thinking of what he might say about her makes Lyra fume.

More evidence that Silver is a bog-standard shitface sexist kid:

Whilst Silver would say this sort of crap to anyone, this hits a little too close to home for Lyra and she takes it as a misogynistic insult. Generally implying that she’s somehow not worthy of becoming a trainer is a surefire way to make Lyra go feral because she kinda thinks it’s the only thing she’s good at. And it’s just not true, look at what level Cabbage is at this point:

Three levels above where she started and only around 3-4 hours have passed since they first met. Lyra is insanely good at training Pokemon. She has great intuition when it comes to assessing individual Pokemon’s strengths and weaknesses and encourages them to fight in whatever way suits them best. She doesn’t always have great long-term strategy in battle, but she knows exactly what her Pokemon can and cannot take and dish out and this is what secures her most of her victories.

Also Silver’s “someone weak” comment is 100% self-projection, just so we’re clear.

lyra vc: lmao yeah i am???

lyra vc: lmao no!!!

Queue Lyra getting Actually Mad™ because there is no way a dick like Silver could become a better trainer than her?? She’s gonna be the greatest, just you wait and see Tampon!!

If you don’t think she was holding it in the air just out of his reach then you have fundamentally underestimated how much of a petty little shit my Lyra is.

Regardless, Lyra then runs back to the lab to see exactly why Elm called her in such a panic.

In conclusion: All cops are bad.

A kind of recurring theme in Lyra’s story is her distrust of traditional authority figures, and it all starts here.

Okay, so obviously this exchange is so cartoonishly stupid that I cannot see it going down like this in blog cannon. But the cop that does come to investigate the lab in blog canon is pretty much as incompetent as this guy. Stealing a Pokemon is kind of not a big deal in Johto? Shit happens all the time, the cops are corrupt as fuck and they don’t care about doing their job. It’s the reason Rocket was able to regroup in Johto without anyone really making any attempt to stop them.

So this guy is mad that he’s been taken really far out of his way to investigate some minor crime in a tiny town and now some brat kid is going on about how some other kid was rude to her? Yeah, he’s not happy and totally belittles her, calling her “girlie” and scoffing at the idea of her and her wimpy looking Pokemon could have defeated a criminal. It’s not until Lyra insists that it was the red haired boy Elm mentioned to the guy she battled that he starts listening to her, and even then he’s still extremely brusque with her. And Lyra cannot stand being talked down to so this drives her round the bend.

A lot of terrifying things happen to Lyra during her journey, enough that she could easily qualify for police protection, but she never once asks for it throughout her journey. Because whenever she imagines walking into a police station, she imagines a bunch of wrinkly, balding, middle-aged men who will belittle and insult her the same way this cop did. And she’s not going to willingly suffer through that again.

#kotolocke.

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edjectedly · 6 years

Text

I Just Wanted a Good Grade

So I know I have another story but @tsfanart‘s post inspired me and you totally need to check it out because it is wonderful, just like the rest of their blog. Also the texting bit is like completely theirs, I just added the very last text from Logan but they came up with that. I really hope they enjoy this, especially considering I did not intend for it to go how it’s going, so without further ado here we go!

Warnings: Failing a test, yelling, minor cursing, If I missed anything let me know

Words: 1517

Parings: Analogical

Tags: @fuzzypurplecloud @emphoenixcat

“Roman Prince!” yelled Virgil as he stared down his friend, focus drifting towards the paper still grasped in his hand, “You had no right going through my stuff!”

Roman raised his hands in surrender, “I know, I know! I’m sorry, but Virgil it really isn’t that big of a deal! Everyone fails test sometimes.”

Virgil growled and yanked the sheet of paper out of his hand, trying to ignore the large red F written on top, “Leave me alone.”

“Virgil wait!” Roman cried, grabbing his shoulder before he could turn around, “I can make this up to you!”

“How?” hissed Virgil, trying to refrain from hitting him.

“I have a friend who is just like a textbook,” Roman spoke quickly, obviously understanding that Virgil was going to kill him if he didn’t get his point across, “I’m positive he could tutor you.”

Virgil glared at him while weighing his option, on one hand someone else would know how stupid he was, but on the other he might not fail, before sighing, “Fine, but I want you to know if I ever find you digging through my stuff again whatever happens to your posters is not my fault.”

With that Virgil stalked off, anger still simmering.

The next day Roman had introduced him to Logan, and Virgil was ready to kill him again. Roman had failed to mention that his friend was so attractive. He was really thankful he had remembered do put on makeup today, his foundation was saving him from complete embarrassment.

“Virgil this is Logan, Logan Virgil,” Roman said gesturing between the two accordingly, as Virgil rose up from his bed.

“Salutation,” Logan said, with a small smile while offering him his hand to shake, “I heard you were having issues in physics?”

Virgil nodded, ignoring the fluttering of his heart, he took Logan’s hand and shook it before quickly stuffing his hand back in his pocket, “Yeah uh, it just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well hopefully we can fix that,” Logan said calmly, before shooting Roman a glance, “It will be best though if there are no distractions present.”

Roman grinned, “I can take a hint, my beauty wouldn’t allow either of you to focus.”

‘“I was going to say your stench,” Virgil smirked with a shrug, “But whatever helps you sleep at night Princey.”

Logan snorts and Roman chokes, “How rude!”

“Out Princey,” Logan says sternly, smile only slightly undermining the authority in his voice.

“I’m going,” surrenders the regal man heading to the door, “But don’t think for a minute you won’t be paying for that later Hot Topic!”

Virgil rolls his eyes and sits down on his bed as the door clicks, “So…” he says, looking up at his tutor.

“Why don’t we start with what is giving you trouble?” Logan ask, sitting down beside him and opening the textbook, hand brushing against Virgil’s in the process.

Virgil can feel the blush rising back to his cheek as he bites the inside of his cheek, Tonight was going to be a long night.

Virgil groaned, about ready to throw his stupid textbook out the window, causing Roman and their friend, Patton, to look over at him in concern.

“You okay Verge?” ask Roman, pausing in painting Patton’s nails.

“Yeah,” lies Virgil throwing himself back against his bed, “I’m just getting a headache.”

“Here,” smiles Patton standing up and stretching, “Me and Roman can go to my room for a while and when I send him back he will bring you some headache medicine. Is that okay?”

“Thank you Pat, but you guys don’t have to leave,” first Virgil couldn’t do his stupid homework, and now he was running Roman and Patton off, what a wonderful person he was.

“No it’s fine! We don’t mind at all, let’s go Roman.” Patton turns and offers Roman his hand.

“I love how you ask if I’m okay with this,” Roman laughs, standing up with Patton’s help and grabbing the nail polish.

“Shush,” Patton scowls, before a grin replaces the uncharacteristic look, “Let’s go.”

And with that the other two were gone, leaving Virgil to wallow in solitude. Of course he didn’t want them knowing he was still failing in physics, Roman was so excited when he showed him the B he got on his last quiz, but now that they had moved on to the next chapter it made no sense again.

Virgil sighed and picked up his phone, desperate times called for desperate measures. He opened a new message, thankful Logan had made him trade numbers last week, and sent him a message before his nerves overwhelmed him.

To: Logan

Hey, Logan, are you busy?

To: Virgil

No, not particularly. Why, what’s up?

To Logan:

Well I’m still working on that physics homework.

To Logan:

And I HATE having to ask you this again. Like, really hate it. But…

To: Virgil

Hey, it’s no problem. I’ll stop by your room in ten?

To Logan

That would be perfect. Just, please don’t tell anyone about this?

To: Virgil

My lips are metaphorically sealed.

Virgil sighed, letting his phone drop onto his chest. At least now the only person who would know he was a failure was the guy he was crushing on. It could always be worse. With that optimistic thought Virgil sat up, determined to get something done before Logan showed up.

“And that is how you’d get your answer,” explained Logan, pen hovering over the formula on the page.

“Oh!” exclaims Virgil, quickly setting up another problem, “So then if I did this…” he pauses while writing down the next steps.

“Exactly!” Logan cheers, “I told you you could do it.”

“I just have a good teacher,” Virgil shrugged, turning to grin at Logan.

A sudden knock at the door caused both occupants to freeze, “Hey Virgil, I forgot my keys, can you let me in?” called Roman from the other side.

“Shit, shit, shit,” hissed Virgil jumping up and frantically throwing his text book in his bag.

“What are you doing?” whispered Logan, matching Virgil’s volume.

“He can’t know I’m still messing up, he was so proud when I passed my last quiz,” Virgil mumbled, focusing on hiding all proof of homework.

Another knock caused him to jump, “Virgil, you in there?”

“No, no, no,” Virgil groaned, grabbing his hair and tugging, trying to figure out what to do.

“Hey,” Logan said, taking his hands, “While I doubt Roman would think lesser of you for needing extra help, if it would help you feel better I can answer the door and tell him I texted you asking to hang out.”

Virgil eyes widened, “But Roman’s going to think-”

“That we’re dating?” Logan finished, knowing exactly how Roman was, “Then we let him, I mean we could correct him, but honestly it’ll make it easier to help you, since you’re embarrassed. It would give you an excuse to come over to my room more often for us to study and for me to be here to help you.”

“You-You’d do that for me?” Whispers Virgil, trying not to focus on their still clasped hands.

“Why not?” Logan shrugs, a smirk appearing on his face, “You need help, plus I would like to see if we could pull one over on the star actor, and honestly I would not mind spending more time with you.”

Virgil nods feeling his ears turn pink, of course Logan had to be really nice and want to prank Princey too, “Okay go open the door before he leaves.”

Logan nods as Virgil plops back down on the bed, leaning back and biting his lip.

“Salutations Roman,” greets Logan, allowing Princey to taken in his appearance.

On his way over to the door he had loosened his tie and un-tucked his shirt to help sell the act, “Sorry we were a bit- um, preoccupied and did not hear you knocking.”

“Oh my god,” cries Roman, pushing past him and taking in the disheveled looking Virgil with a huge grin on his face, “You didn’t have a headache at all did you? You just wanted to make out with Logan!”

Virgil winces at the accusation, afraid of how this was going to blow up, when Logan clears his throat, “Roman I assure you it was I who asked to come over, Virgil actually does have a heachache.”

Roman’s eyes widen, but the grin doesn’t vanish. “Sorry Jack Smellington,” he apologizes, lowering his volume, while also pulling out a bottle of pills, “Peace offering?”

Virgil takes the offered bottle, shooting Logan a grateful look. Roman wouldn’t bug him about this till tomorrow now, which gave him time to figure out what to do.

“Thanks Ro,” he mumbles.

Roman grins, “Anything for you Verge, but we will be talking about this tomorrow.,” then he turns to Logan, a wide smile on his face, “You and I must talk now, c’mon I’ll walk you back to your room.”

And with that Roman is pulling Logan out of the dorm, leaving Virgil to figure out how he was going to deal with this.

#analogical #thomas sanders #sanders sides #college au #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #ace writes

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hikariobsessions · 6 years

Note

I think I kind of agree with you, I'm not too fond of the sassy mc in ikesen, but she'll grow on me eventually maybe. It kind of makes me sad that people think reserved or shy characters can't be written well or be strong without being sassy/rude or without being annoying. I always see them being written as if being shy/pure is their only trait. I've met shy people in real life who are very enjoyable to be around once they open up to someone. (You don't need to reply to this by the way)

I can’t say how much this kind of ask/discussion is making me smile right now. Thank you for this (*^^*) – if you want, you can dm me and we can discuss this in a little bit more detail~ More opinions from me under the cut – but you don’t need to read it if this topic is already driving you insane (as it is me) because of how it blew up into this odd, unpleasant thing that really didn’t need to be. But I suppose, it’s Tumblr nonetheless…

Don’t let one opinion stop you from enjoying the stuff you really admire. THIS OPINION IS JUST ME. Ignore or barrel through the commentaries, that’s up to you.

But it’s there as food for thought. For myself, and just as an answer to this asker who has been the only person so far that has responded to my call for civility when it comes to these rants.

Again, thank you so, so much (*^^*)

[RANT] Just another one to get stuff off my chest ^^;; We all know how this goes right?

I can understand why people like the ENG MC. And here’s the thing, they’re not WRONG to like her for whatever reason they have. It’s FINE.

I’m just running my mouth with my own opinions because first of all this is my blog - LET’S JUST GET THAT OUT OF THE WAY IN CASE NO ONE HAS NOTICED.

But also, just as someone in the minority of these opinions, I take it upon myself to try and elaborate on my own point of view because I feel like I owe it to the people who like/maybe even love this particular character, to not just give them hate and criticism, but rather a valid argument for my own views.

But so far no one has given me any fair observations/criticisms of the writing that points me in a different way of looking at and appreciating the writing in the IkeSen ENG App for what it is, flaws and all. People are just going “it’s good writing/dialogue” and I’m just like…why do you think that way? PLEASE ELABORATE.

I am literally someone who wants my opinions challenged because I don’t want to hate on this game. Far from it. Why would anyone want to download something just to do that?

Furthermore, I don’t tag the company’s social media in my rants in particular because they are just that – RANTS. I call the localization team out on several things, definitely, but whether they change their writing is up to them.

Ever since I entered this fandom, I already knew I was in the minority when it came to opinions of the MC, just by looking through Tumblr for IkeSen content.

But honestly, I want a more substantial reason as to why people think the writing is good apart from the fact that the MC is different (sassy, witty etc.) from other examples of MCs in otome.

Because as you said, hun, there are other people out there who can be really shy and reserved but have their own strengths as a person/character. And they can also be rude and judgmental at their worst. This is just human.

And you’re right, it’s a shame that they are sometimes only “written as if being shy/pure is their only trait” – that in itself is BAD WRITING.

The only bad female character, if you ask me (and you did), is one who’s flat. One who isn’t realistic. One who has no agency of her own, who only exists to define other characters (usually men).

Here’s the thing about being a damsel in distress…it’s only bad if that’s all she is. If the character’s defining characteristic is being a damsel in distress, that’s bad. - Mad Lori

I can’t stop quoting Mad Lori enough about this :’)I don’t need to tell anyone that this goes for “sassiness” as well right?? So how about this? About “progression” in the sense that women don’t have to be “strong” in order to be good, well-written characters. And they don’t have to possess a specific trait, such as ‘sassy’ just to be said - “strong” character. That they find their own strength by choosing to love, overcoming their own flaws but more importantly being someone with their own agency to achieve self-determination in the world that they’re in – but also remain down-to-earth, shy, outspoken or otherwise.

This was never taken from the Japanese MC as a character in the JP App. This is why I remain so confused as to why the English team decided to change her.PORTRAY CHARACTERS AS HUMAN. Not as this thing trying for a convoluted cultural ideal which has its own flaws.

This is coming from someone, who in turn watches stuff like Orange is the New Black (just watch a trailer for it (if you haven’t heard of this show) and maybe you can get why I’m referring to it).

It’s a show which has an amazing amount of diversity in terms of its portrayal of women. But what’s good about it, is that those portrayals aren’t so much black or white, shy or sassy, strong or weak – they all have their strengths and weaknesses that make them complex and are motivated by their individual character traits and flaws as well as possessing their own agency.

In any case, the only reason, or at least the MAJOR reason I was completely turned off by the ENG MC is that in the writing, they try SOOO hard to make a point that this particular MC is different from the rest. That she is witty. That she is sassy. Oh, and look just how “strong” she is, by thinking up all these snarky comments/comebacks against the guys, even when they’re not being dickheads!!

To me, that’s the only reason they decided to change her from the original Japanese MC (correct me if I’m wrong, PLEASE) – shoving these sentiments of “a strong woman” into this particular character just to……..what? Reach a “diverse” audience?? How diverse are we talking about exactly?

If you can’t even look at a type of character that is shy, insecure and reserved as part of that diversity – and admiring how she becomes an exception to her own trope – you’re just kidding yourself. And this change isn’t even the core of my problem with the writing.

Look I get that people can be frustrated because of the lack of representation of different kinds of MC and that’s a fair frustration to have. But let’s not back ourselves into a corner of thinking that women need to be portrayed as this one thing in order to be “well-written”:

Sherlock Holmes gets to be brilliant, solitary, abrasive, Bohemian, whimsical, brave, sad, manipulative, neurotic, vain, untidy, fastidious, artistic, courteous, rude, a polymath genius. Female characters get to be Strong. -Sophia McDougall, Quote take from here.

To me, this entire push to have this “sassy” MC in the ENG App is the writer or perhaps the business, literally shoving their own rant/agenda onto my face (or rather their “market research” let’s say).

Having that happen to you as an audience/reader is seriously disengaging from the story. What I’ve seen them do, is blatantly spoon-feed information about the traits of the characters and tell audiences what to think or feel about them, instead of letting readers figure these out for themselves.

They are literally “talking” to the reader, and that severely takes me out of the world of the story. For example, they use thought-bubbles of the MC to monologue about (Oh, how I used to be such an independent woman, but now I’m in the Sengoku…) — From my perspective, THAT IS SERIOUSLY BAD WRITING. And hence, why I think she’s not a well-written character. Not because of how they changed her to be outspoken and/or sassy, but rather their execution of conveying that in the stories.

“Show, don’t tell” anyone?? Nothing bad about applying a common writing technique preached by almost every writing mentor out there.

The thing is audiences aren’t stupid, but more often than not - when they're paying attention - they know when they’re being called “stupid”.

I have nothing against the localization team trying to change this particular MC into having a ‘sassy’ personality. My problem is that they don’t write it well.

There’s nothing substantial added to the story by changing the MC that actually makes the development of their relationship (MC and any Warlord) stronger from the stories in the JP App. It’s possible to have done it but unfortunately no, not in this version. If anything the ‘decorative’ nature of what the English team has done with the character to “reach” audiences just made the MC unbearably annoying (to me).

But, equally bad is that everything that they’re doing, which shouldn’t be evident while reading the stories, is showing:

i.e. aiming for a goal of wanting the MC to be different, and using her thought-bubbles to deliver expository commentaries; instead of letting her stand on her own two feet as a character through her actions.

– they should at least BE SUBTLE about it and make sure that they have that self-awareness as to why they’re doing it. And not just because you want to gain popularity amongst audiences who are sick of a trope. This is what I mean when I say I don’t like different for the sake of being different. It’s just sensationalist, immature and completely distracting from the actual story and relationships we’re supposed to be admiring. To quote the great screenwriting guru, Robert McKee:

Just as children break things for fun or throw tantrums to force attention on themselves, too many filmmakers [in this case writers too] use infantile gimmicks on screen to shout, “Look what I can do!” A mature artist never calls attention to himself, and a wise artist never does anything merely because it breaks convention. - Robert McKee

But, hey, like with anything else — this is just me, with my blog, voicing my opinion~ If you’ve read this, again:

Thank you so much for putting up with these rants ^^

Peace out guys, and stay kind ^_^ - Hikari

#0-0iseul #ikemen sengoku #personal #rant

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skshim · 7 years

Text

Hi, Tumblr.

It’s been a while.

I’m sorry for not really keeping you updated. I think it’s been basically a year since my last original Tumblr post (not counting the Instagram cross-posts).

The main reason for that is because over the past year, and especially after my break-up (or, rather, my “rather unexpected dumping event”, or RUDE for short), I didn’t want to vent out my hurt and frustrations online to strangers. I think I felt it was time to let my inner circle know more of how I felt.

The reason for this is because while I always searched for a “me for me”, in terms of a friend that would be the good, sensitive listener, the one you could commiserate with, I didn’t always give people the chance to do so. So I held in a lot of my inner-most thoughts and feelings…and put them on here. And I was like, that’s unfair. And perhaps not the best thing for me to do.

And I don’t go onto Tumblr just to reblog cute/funny things or memes or horror stories. That’s what I use Facebook for (as a personal branding exercise). So after a while, I just lost interest.

I still want to get to know people from here, as I’ve met some decent people (even in real life!). I would welcome other minorities of minorities of minorities into my circle, because God knows how bad/weird it can get (He honestly does, I believe). I know Asian Christians, and I know a few gay Christians, and I have, like, one gay Asian Christian friend. I would like to know more.

Just to give you an update (and know what’s been going on over the past year, if you’re not connected with me elsewhere):

My best roommate left, and I had two other short-term roommates after, and this one (who’s the third, but he’s longer term) is fine. He’s straight and Muslim but open-minded. I like him, but he’s just SO DIRTY IN THE KITCHEN it drives me crazy. And once in a while, it smells like curry.

Work is a hot mess in terms of staffing, but it’s always like that. Basically, my friend went on maternity leave and just came back, the permanent new person quit after a car accident (and partially because she thought she couldn’t handle it long-term, methinks), and my other permanent co-worker is leaving to live out of a van for a year and being…creative. On the plus side, we hired my friend (from my new church) and I hope that all works out. I pray that that all works out. She has relevant experience, at least.

Speaking of which, I go to a Chinese Alliance Church now, and it’s been pretty good, but complicated, since I’m slowly coming out in a conservative context. This means, for example, my pastor hasn’t allowed me to join a worship team. (Yet?) However, I’m showing people how gay people are, like, normal, and I believe that’s part of the reason why I’m here, so I’m okay with that. Also, I met a new BFF from this church. She takes the Chinese female spot from the previous one who ghosted me.

My family is normal and relatively healthy so I can’t complain.

I was set up (like, for a possible relationship, not like a scam) and given the number of a guy…who ended up being my ex’s ex. MY EX ONLY HAD TWO BOYFRIENDS – ME AND THIS GUY. WHAT. THE. HECK. Anyway, it’s probably not gonna work out, since we don’t seem to be really connecting beyond just a friend level, for one thing. (He said that he doesn’t open up easily, which is in stark contrast to me, which you should know by now.) He’s also shorter than me. :P Oh, and he was raised Buddhist, and has no connection to the Christian church.

YAY CONDENSED LIFE NOTES.

So basically, what I’m saying is that this blog is semi-retired, in a sense, but you can always hit me up in the DMs (BUT NOT FOR EXPLICIT CONTENT NO MEANS NO). Perhaps it may be better for you to add me on Facebook. That’s where I’m most active. And honestly, I think it would be nice to get to know you, as long as you want to get to know me. But then, like, we’d actually have to talk and stuff to get to know each other; just adding does nothing AMIRITE.

So yeah. Hello, and goodbye!

(I’ll still be posting Instagram things on here, I think. But yeah, just follow me there too.)

-Stephen

#personal #gay Christian #gay Christian here #gay Korean Christian

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phantastus · 7 years

Note

Hi Kit!! I was thinking about Shattered Memories for the first time in a little while and so I decided to search your blog about your opinion on it and you said it frustrates you, and I'm curious to hear your thoughts on it if you're interested? :)

Oh man, what a coincidence. I was just talking about this with @dunglizard.

Hmm… to condense my thoughts on it, my basic opinion is that while I did enjoy playing the game, there was a lot ABOUT it that was frustrating. Most of my issues with it have to do with wasted potential and the disrespectful attitude of the people making it, and then also there were gameplay aspects that were frustrating too. Of the two, the gameplay aspects are more forgivable imo, because like, no game is perfect and they really were trying to do something new, which is risky and doesn’t always succeed even with the best of intentions.

But to be clear– I had fun playing it! The story was compelling, the character writing was great, and the entire visual makeup of the game was haunting and beautiful. There was a LOT about it that I find really commendable!

And, really, what made it so frustrating to me was the fact that those aspects of it… deserved better, and were sorely let down by the things that WEREN’T good about the game.

I’ll put my negativity under a readmore because it got really long.

(disclaimer: I’m an angry old Silent Hill fogey and while I think I’m generally more reasonable than a LOT of fans, I’m still exactly the kind of person that Tomm Hulett likes to chortle about never being able to please, so like… keep that in mind.)

So uh, we’ll start with the gameplay I guess!

I love the idea of a no-combat Silent Hill game, and I remember when the game had only just been announced, I spent so much time chatting with friends about how a Silent Hill game featuring a protagonist who had a valid reason not to be able to fight the monsters (such as a small child, or an elderly or disabled person) would be really, REALLY cool. But even with Harry 2.0 as the playable character, I was still looking forward to what I thought was probably going to be a stealth-based Silent Hill game, which was SO exciting for me because the most scared I’ve ever been while playing games as a kid were ones where you had to sneak, with no option for combat (guess who nearly had a fucking heart attack every single time I had to sneak out of the Slytherin Common Room in the Harry Potter + the Chamber of Secrets PC game? spoilers it was teenage me). If you were caught, that was it. And the trailers for the game seemed to indicate that this would be the case, with mechanics for hiding from the monsters so that they wouldn’t find you. You know, like what would make sense for a no-combat horror game. This is a common mechanic for horror games both indie and mainstream NOW, but at the time, the only major one I remember knowing about was Amnesia: The Dark Descent, which blew everybody’s MINDS with how pants-shittingly scary it was, and the thought of an SH game trying the same thing was like:

But then when the game came out, that mechanic wound up being… kind of broken. Maybe the AI for the monsters was just ramped way up or something, but hiding essentially felt useless, since there was basically never a time when the monsters WEREN’T chasing you. No matter how far ahead of them you got, they still seemed to know exactly where you were and would catch up to you within a few seconds. If you DID manage to hide, most of the time they seemed to telepathically know you were there anyway and would drag you out. Not to mention, since you pretty much had to run the entire time without slowing down or stopping, there was no time to check the map and, as the courses got more and more difficult, they basically stopped being scary.

There was no time to actually breathe and build up that apprehension of “Will it find me? Did I lose them? Is it safe to pull out my map and figure out where to go?”– instead it just became an obstacle course race where all the other participants were not only more in-shape than you but also knew the course by heart and wanted to eat you. What should have been heart-stoppingly terrifying and dread-inducing just turned into “oh FUCK now I have to run around at breakneck speed for twenty minutes and hope that I’m going in the right direction”, and that just got… really aggravating after awhile. It could have been really good, and it just… wasn’t.

Pictured above: me thinking I’ve taken a new path for the 20th time only to emerge directly into a Raw Shock army who already knew I was coming.

At best, watching Harry get repeatedly dogpiled by Raw Shocks every time my thumb faltered was pretty funny. But they were going for adrenaline rush and instead wound up with yackety-sax. Not a good move for a game boasting about how damn scary it was. The non-chase portions of the game definitely had a lovely, dread-filled atmosphere, but the fact that you were never in any kind of danger until the scripted events where the Obstacle Course Race From Hell happened kind of dampened their effectiveness, too.

ANYWAY, onto the other stuff, which I concede is more personal than objective. But I do feel really strongly about it, so here goes.

Originally, Silent Hill: Shattered Memories was going to be an entirely new entry in the series, not only featuring a new story and characters but also the first female protagonist since Heather Mason. Between THAT and the unique atmosphere that SHSM had, I really, REALLY think that it would have been an awesome entry to the continuity, and GOD does Silent Hill need more female protagonists!

But somewhere down the line, that idea was scrapped in favor of the “re-imagining” idea, so instead of a new entry to the series, instead we got… a new entry where the characters had the same names as the ones from SH1, despite resembling them only in the most superficial of ways, and also you’re playing as a dude instead of a girl because of course you are. The honest truth is that if those familiar names were filed off and only a few minor tweaks made to the story, it would STILL be a completely original entry, which makes the re-imagining aspect feel jarring and cheap– the game really felt like it was banking on the shock value of Harry Mason Actually™ being an alcoholic womanizer and Dahlia Gillespie Actually™ being a hot sexy twenty-something, etc more than anything else– when the truth is, if they had just trusted in the story they were telling and the genuine emotional impact of the characters’ problems, they would have had an equally (if not MORE, imo) impactful and memorable game.

Instead, the SH1 aspects felt forced and ugly, and when you factor in Kaufmann 2.0’s smug soliloquey at the finale about accepting that your [Cheryl’s AND the player’s] perfect image of Harry Mason was wrong~ and unrealistic~, the entire story felt like a smirking hamfisted dickpunch aimed at people who enjoyed the original Silent Hill story about a diminutive and flawed (yes, even in the original canon, he WAS flawed) but determined man who rescued his child from a nightmarishly abusive home situation.

Reading Tomm Hulett’s opinion (pictured above: me reading almost anything Tomm Hulett says) on the game only reinforced that impression– I honestly don’t feel like going and looking up the interview because it pissed me off but it mostly consisted of insisting that SHSM was “as canon as any of the other games” and was supposed to be considered a viable in-universe ending to SH1 (despite… literally being an alternate universe BY DEFINITION and not being continuity-compatible with the other games). Given Hulett+Co’s consistent obsession with “fixing” the original games (see the HD collection debacle, during which the original voice actors/actresses were mocked rudely and key dialogue changed to be “more believable” despite the new dialogue being totally deaf to narrative, characterization, and tone), it’s really hard not to take the “We fixed Harry Mason to be more realistic and the entire message of the game is about how silly and fantastical the original character of Harry Mason was, hohoho” attitude as being deliberately condescending and self-masturbatory.

Not to mention, while I have NO PROBLEM WHATSOEVER with the characters of SHSM entirely on their own (hence why I’d honestly be all for filing the names off and treating them as entirely-unique characters in their own story, which I feel they absolutely deserved), I personally find the whole concept of… ‘fixing’ an everyman hero by ‘revealing’ him to be an unfaithful, child-abusing alcoholic, and a delightfully sinister and brilliant villain to be a Sad Mom ™, AND a troubled and traumatized but ultimately heroic young woman to be a Daddy Issues Stereotype who was also Crazy The Whole Time ™ to be…. just repugnant, in the same way that I find overly-grimdark versions of superheroes repugnant.

Pictured above: me when people take pre-established characters and make them edgier for shock value and not much else.

For me, that was what took an otherwise interesting and poignant story and cheapened it for the sake of beating a dead horse (because they’d rather SHATTER our MEMORIES of those silly OLD games, lol cry moar babies!!! than take the plunge and try doing something that could stand on its own).

The characters of SHSM deserved so much more than to just be a “fuck you” to SH1, and the characters of SH1+3 deserve more credit than to be considered flimsy and unrealistic just because they didn’t fit into someone’s approved level of Grimdark. Given that, after all the smirking and hullabaloo and Problematic Decisions ™, the game’s connection to SH1 was still so, so superficial, it went from being just a questionable storytelling choice to actively making the game worse than what it could have been, for virtually no good reason.

And final footnote: These are my opinions, and obviously there are ample reasons for people to like and enjoy SHSM! I also in no way think that writing characters with the issues presented in SHSM is bad or “edgy” by itself, it’s purely the reasons behind doing it and the fact that it denied me a bona fide in-universe canon Silent Hill game with a new female protagonist that puts it in that territory for me. Nobody has to agree with me if they feel differently. Thank you for reading.

#Silent Hill #SHSM #kit rambles about silent hill #this is a largely negative post #so folks in the tag for regular SHSM content might want to scroll!#asks 4 me #Anonymous

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