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#I like putting ideas out I don't know if they make sense
sincerelyneo · 3 days
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could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐
mad at you | l.mk
“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”
💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we
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❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.
❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader
❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex
❯ words: 4.3k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.
an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.
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The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had. 
But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales. 
You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.
So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment. 
He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think. 
He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous. 
The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.
“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”
You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy. 
“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”
You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”
"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."
Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”
His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath. 
“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”
“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”
He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”
“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”
“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”
You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.
“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug. 
“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”
“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap. 
Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair. 
“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”
You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought. 
“Oh, so you want to break up?”
He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”
The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other. 
Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.
Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.
“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”
“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it. 
Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument. 
He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.
After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys. 
It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy. 
Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.
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Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to. 
As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes. 
You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.
The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.
However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.
“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.  
You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”
Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.
His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head. 
"I thought you left..."
Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.
“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw. 
You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap. 
He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”
His kindness only amplifies your guilt. 
"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."
Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."
"No—"
He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."
Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.
"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."
"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"
Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"
His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.
"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."
You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”
You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.
Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.
His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.
Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.
You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.
He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.
“‘s okay,” you whimper. 
Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.
He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock. 
He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too. 
And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers. 
“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”
You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud. 
“Mark…” 
“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.” 
You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.
And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.
As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been. 
You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.” 
He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock. 
Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does. 
The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.
You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick. 
You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment. 
Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.
Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.
And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more. 
You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you. 
So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...
“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”
You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.
“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”
And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax. 
And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back. 
The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do. 
You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed. 
You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.
"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.
"I’m sorry," you say softly.
You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."
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argumentl · 1 day
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Fan-translation
Phy.25 Kaoru Interview (April 2024)
(Interview by Hasegawa Yukinobu)
ーAlong with the new single 'The Devil In Me', you have also recorded self-covers of your songs 'Cage' and 'Yokan'. Had you already decided to do this at the time you were making your previous release '19990120'?
Yes, we had. The idea behind the last release was originally in part due to our 25th anniversary, but we also thought it would be a good chance to reconnent with those people who had been fans of Dir en grey in the old days, but who had since drifted away. But we couldn't just re-release the old songs and then be like, 'Ok, thats it'.
ーYou have to get those returned fans to listen to your new music too, right?
So, we made 19990120 and planned to release a new song straight after, but as for what to include for the coupling tracks on the new song, we decided self-covers of Cage and Yokan would be good.
ーYou re-recorded the 3 songs from your debut release for 19990120, but following this, you went for your 4th and 5th singles. By the way, I personally found it very emotional that the band chose to re-record Yokan.
Did you?
ーI think you know this, but I've loved Yokan since way back....You know that, right?
Uh, no. I didn't know that (lol)
ーDo you remember that whiteboard there used to be backstage at Studio Coast, you would use it to decide the setlist? There were magnets with song names taped onto them, and you would use them for deciding that day's setlist. I once even tried making some magnets for Yokan and Akuro no oka, and sticking them on the whiteboard myself. Thats how much I love those songs (lol)
Oh, yeah, I remember that. (lol)
ーAnyway, regardless of that, looking back at these songs from the time of your debut, I really felt the Dir en grey of 1998. How did you approach your next moves in terms of sound back then?
Back then? Well, for the first three songs, they needed to have a big impact. Then following this, the singles Cage and Yokan had the restraint of being tied to a major label. We had to figure out how to make melodious but also interesting songs.
ーMaking songs with a major label?
Thats how it always goes, right? And record companies want follow up singles to have just as much punch as the debut single. So thats the kind of situation we were in making Cage and Yokan. But within ourselves we were also making them with the album in mind.
ーNot as stand alone singles?
This was our first full album as a band, so I wanted to include a lot of songs. With 5 singles included they had to be songs that would fit well with the other songs on the album. I remember having this in mind while making Cage and Yokan.
ーA lot of visual kei came out in the second half of the 90s, but in 1999, with your first album Gauze, I really got the sense that the members didn't want to fit into that typical band mold.
At the time, we were just so driven we didn't mind being seen as unorthodox. To put it in an extreme way, it was kinda like, 'As long as we make an impact, who cares about the music!'.
ーDynamite Tommy's band 'Color' had a similar outlook. They would say in interviews, 'We are an unorthodox band!'. Maybe you were influenced by him? (lol)
No, I don't think that has anything to do with it (lol). But at the time, there were not a lot of bands with flashy visuals. I mean, there were in the following generations, but in our generation visual kei was mostly bands wearing fancy suits. With us, there was a part of us that just wanted to be different, I think thats reflected in the songs too. Whether it was the single, or the label, whatever...we just wanted to do something out of the ordinary (lol). Also, we knew that our producer at the time Yoshiki, would make it sound good for us in the end.
ー Were you aiming to get to the top by being out of the ordinary?
No, not really. I wasn't thinking about the songs selling to such an extent while I was making them. Of course, I still thought this band would sell records, but part of me also thought 'How weird for this kind of band to be big'. So instead of aiming for the top, I just aimed to make interesting work. But of course, being with a major label at the time, we would have requests come in regarding the lyrics and the music. And the more I hear this kind of thing, the more I just want to go in the complete opposite direction. These were the circumstances in which we created Gauze. So at the time, I thought to myself 'After this I'm never gonna make another album like Gauze'. (lol)
ーYou wanted to be more free to make it in your own way?
Well, actually its like this every time, but whatever I make, even if I put my all into it, I always look back with some regret wishing I had done parts of it slightly differently. So after Gauze, I did think that I always want to surpass my previous work each time. Nowadays, its less about surpassing, but more about finding something different to try.
ーTo surpass=to deny your former selves, so the band underwent some changes, didn't it? I think the turning point came in about 2005 when the band began overseas activities.
Yeah, we went overseas and I think thats when we realised the importance of just being ourselves. Foreign bands stand on stage unashamed of who they are and what they do. There is a purity to it. So for us to chase our goals, I realised it wasn't just about surpassing ourselves, but also being more defiantly ourselves.
ーWere you not as self-confident before that?
Before that there was a lot that we simply didn't understand. From making music, to playing lives, finding ourselves was like fumbling through fog, grasping at things bit by bit. Eventually I realised this was our way of trying to reach our goals. So even just standing on stage, I would still feel a bit unsteady in myself. But going over there and playing lives, I felt more grounded. I realised its ok to just stand there, even completely stripped bare, and just to be yourself.
ー That realisation, yeah.
It was the right time to realise it. Maybe thats why we discovered how to show what was truly within us at that time. Our heavy sound wasn't just a result of lowering the tuning or using a heavy amp.
ーYeah.
I can't really explain it well, but its not about searching for something that is missing, the important thing is using what you have inside you. Whatever comes out from inside the 5 of us is good enough. For example, if you look at Shinya drumming, he doesn't seem like he has a heavy sound in him, but its HIS sound, so its ok. I don't want to change or manipulate it, the band sounds the way it does because of that. Rather than wanting something more, we should be a band that uses each member's sound just as it is.
ーIts great to acknowledge each member like that.
That's all we can do.
ーThats how a band should be, but bands are also groups of people with strong egos. There are also times when too much self assertion leads to failure.
Well, we have had times like that, in the 25 plus years we have been together. But I feel like we are where we are now because of that. You could say that we are similar now to how we were at the time of our debut....because we didn't know how to make music then, but we were just being ourselves. So its kind of interesting for us to re-do these old songs now.
ーWhen you look at these songs which you made 25 years ago, did you feel like they were interesting songs?
I feel like I tried hard to make something interesting. I just had an idea of what I wanted. But the gap between that and the reality was huge, so I constantly felt bad about it. I was remembering this during the recording.
ーDid you feel nostalgia for your young self?
Well, I still worry about things like I did then. I still get stumped when something feels a bit off when writing songs, but now I prioritise discovering what I have in me.
ー 'What you have in you'.....could it be...'The Devil In Me'!? (lol)
Hahaha
ーAs for the new single, what kind of image did you have for it?
Well, I discussed it with the members, but even before that, I had a vision of what would be good for our next move. But if it turned out exactly as I had envisioned, it would be less fun. So the members' opinions are really important.
ーIts a song unlike any you've done before. Its less about developmets or structure, but it really establishes each member's presence. Does this song represent the band's style going forward?
Yeah, its a different style than we've previously had, but I think its ok to keep it simple. Its a chemical reaction between the members. That's what the band depends on. Its not about who does what, its what do these 5 members each make you feel. Even a song which I'm not playing in is ok, if you feel that I am.
ーThats impossible (lol)
No, its not (lol)
ー But I feel like this is the territory you have arrived in after 25 years.
I think thats the type of thing that will make the band more interesting. How can I say it, we don't even have to make it weird, it just has to sound like us. We have over 100 songs now, right? Before we would try to cram stuff into a song to make it sound like us, but now we don't have to intentionally do that. In other words, its something thats easy to convey. Something that you can feel the presence of the 5 of us when you hear it. This will feel different depening on each listener, but thats how we are doing it now. And its the same for our new song too.
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scorpioriesling · 2 days
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Guilty as Sin?
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Pairing(s): Azriel x reader
Warnings: angsty asf
Summary: It wasn't hard to love your best friend; after all, you'd been through everything together. He'd seen every in-depth part of you, but now you were forced to give all of that up. All because of the stupid cauldron, and stupid fate.
SR’s Note: Brb going to get "mine" tatted on my upper thigh... this is so UGH anyways. I had to; I apologize in advance. This is one of my favorite new songs.
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The cauldron could boil itself at this point.
You weren't sure how to make the best of this situation; something you could normally do without fail. A talent everyone loved about you. However, that talent was failing you now.
Now that the bond had snapped, and there was no way out. No way of avoiding what you so desparetely wanted for years, and somehow it all ended up messed up in the end.
Lucien was a good male, you would give him that much; but that wasn't enough. Your life felt near over when your best friend revealed his hidden bond with the Archeron girl -- but now, you were in the same position. Somehow, you were cursed in more ways than one. Not only was your best friend mated to someone else -- but now so were you.
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"You're right, we should definitely get matching tattoos!" You laughed, bumping into Azriel's arm as you both stumbled down the Velaris streets. It was past midnight, and you were both buzzed from your night out at Rita's -- something you did at least once a week -- and the walk home turned into more of a walk through town.
He chuckled beside you, fingers curling around your elbow to help steady you. His wide smile was a sight you'd never tire of; he rarely let it show, but when he did, you made sure to illustrate it in your mind, holding onto the masterpiece forever.
"It isn't our worst idea..." he admitted, taking another swig from the bottle he held. You watched as his throat bobbed, swallowing the liquid and turning his attention back to you. You look toward the sky, trying and failing to pretend you weren't staring.
"What should we get?" You ask with a grin. He ponders for a moment, brow lifted in mockery. "Hmm.." he says. "What if we got eachother's handwriting?" You giggled, and he laughed with you.
"I'm serious!" He exclaimed. The tattoo parlor was coming into view, and you rolled your eyes. "I don't know if I trust you to literally write on me," you say. "We've been friends for far too long for me to put it past you to write something like "Azriel is so hot" or "Kiss my ass" on me-" You barely get it all out before laughing again, his gaze on you softening as he loops an arm around your shoulders.
"I promise I won't do something so vulgar," he says. You're now in front of the tattoo shop, the neon lights illuminating his face in a deep blue glow. He grabs the door handle and opens it, gesturing you to go inside.
"Ladies first." He smirks. You lightly smack his shoulder, and saunter your way inside.
"Fine -- but you have to go first." You throw over your shoulder. He enters behind you, and within minutes he's put in a chair and the tattoo artist is holding the needle gun over his forearm.
"Okkayyy, 'lil lady," he says, pulling up a stool to allow you to sit beside him. He hands you the gun, and places his hand over yours to help you with the process. "You ready?" he asks. You glance at Azriel, who now has his eyes lightly closed as he lays down on the bed in front of you.
"Are you ready, Azzie?" You say. He nods silently, a small smile playing on his lips. You release a breath as the gun whirrs to life, and the artist guides you to begin pressing into your best friend's skin. Stealing a glance at his face, you find him peacefully laying there, almost sleepy. That would make sense, seeing as you both drank a lot tonight.
After a few minutes of darkening the lines and wiping away the excess liquid, the artist powers down the needle and scoots back on his rolling chair. Your fingers lightly dance over the puffy black lines on his otherwise bare forearm, and he stirs at the sensation.
"Have a look," you say. He opens his eyes and sits up, delight overtaking his features as he sees your work.
"I choose you and me," he says aloud, reading over the ink now drying in his skin. He almost blushes, gazing at the ink and touching it lightly. His eyes meet yours, and in seconds he is hopping up and offerring you the bed. You sit on it, pulling the hem of your shorts up so it's easier to access.
"Heyy..." he starts. "You picked the spot for mine-" You huff.
"I want mine up here," you point to the upper part of your thigh, and he rolls his eyes. He shoots a look to the artist, and shakes his head.
"I've learned to just not argue with this one," he says, and you gasp at him. He laughs, his white teeth shining like stars inside the dim shop. The tattoo artist sighs, powering on the newly replaced tatto gun and handing it to Azriel. You place a hand on your leg, eyes wide.
"You're not gonna help him?" You ask the artist. He only shrugs at you.
"I've seen his work before -- he knows how to do a pretty damn good tattoo." Your eyes narrow toward your best friend, and he only grins down at you.
Sighing, you rest your head back against the cushion of the tattoo bed. "Az, you better not fuck this up-"
You're cut off by his fingers brushing against the skin of your leg, pulling on your shorts to move them slightly. Your breath catches in your throat, now staring wide-eyed down at the man you'd secretly fallen so madly in love with. His messy curls tickled the strips of skin between the hem of your baby tee and the top of your shorts as he stared intently at his work, needle lightly pressing into your skin. His other hand laid flat on your stomach, holding you gently in place.
You couldn't ever get rid of this sight unless someone quite literally ripped it from the archives of your mind.
He glanced up at you, noticing your labored breathing. His soft expression was one he only ever used with you; a stark contrast to the strong, unfazed front he presented to everyone else. You figured he was going to tell you to chill out -- little did he know you weren't focusing on the pain, but rather the striking male on top of you.
"Lay down -- you can't peek 'till I'm done."
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The air was warm as it rolled off the sidra, the salt air so familiar. You'd come down here for some peace; some time away. Since learning of the bond with Lucien, it was like you couldn't escape. You couldn't get away from the constant "Are you okay?"s and "Have you told Azriel?"s and "Do you think you'll accept the bond?"s. It was getting to be too much. No, you weren't okay. No, you did not want to accept the bond.
And fuck no, you did not tell Azriel. You remembered what happened last time when you found out his bond snapped, and you hadn't even seen him in months. There was no point -- it wouldn't change your situation.
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"I made you that strawberry cream cake, you know, your favorite?" Feyre's kind words filled the kitchen as you continued to pour glasses of lemonade, setting down the pitcher to meet her watercolor eyes. You gave her a soft smile.
"Thank you... but whatever for?" Her gaze dropped, fingers fiddling with one another as she looked around nervously. You arched a brow at her.
"Nothing, I just -- I thought you might like it. To celebrate the first day of Summer," she stuttered. You'd never seen her at a loss for words, but before you could think too long about it, Cassian barged into the room, eyes full of delight when he spotted the filled lemonade glasses.
"Ahh," he grabbed one and chugged it, putting it back on the counter after a few gulps as though it was a shot. You giggled, Feyre finding his interruption rather funny as well. He peered at you, sliding the glass over on the counter top.
"Fill 'er up -- Gods, it is so hot outside." He says, fingers fiddling with a small band tying his hair back. You top off his glass, and he takes it again, only sipping this time.
"Are you ladies joining us outside? Or what?" He asks giddily. You swear, if he wasn't a fae bat he would be a golden retriever.
"Absolutely," Feyre nods. He saunters out of the room, and within seconds you spy him by the edge of the Sidra tackling Rhysand into the river with him. They both come up within seconds, laughing and shaking their wet hair. Feyre peers out with you, and your heart catches when you see Azriel not joining in. He is sitting on one of the picnic blankets the group laid out, Elain's head in his lap as he leans back on his hands. She tenses, laughing at something he said. He gives her a smile; one you'd thought only he shared around you.
"I'll meet you outside in just a moment?" Feyre offers. She knew; she knew exactly how you'd felt for Azriel. But, she also knew that he was in some newfound, weird relationship since her sister arrived.
You tried to brush it off. Your best friend had lovers before; most of them only lasted a few weeks anyway, then they were gone. This one would be no different.
Finally making your way down to the river, tray of drinks in your hands, you were greeted by Mor as she helped pass out the drinks. She walked over to Feyre and Cassian; of course, leaving you to head over to Azriel.
You sighed, and walked over to the blanket where he sat. Her annoying laugh rang out again, and you winced. Azriel looked up, finally noting your presence and shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand. The unmistakable black writing on his forearm still reading "I choose you and me". Your heart swells just a bit.
"Y/N! Did you bring us drinks?" He asks nicely. You smile back, appreciating this side of him never failing to come out around his best friend.
"I just might have..." You say. Elain sits up upon hearing your voice, offerring a kind smile. You pass one glass to Azriel, and hold out another for her.
"Thank you Y/N! You must have known lemonade is my favorite," She takes it from you, beaming and turning to Azriel. He nods in agreement, sipping from his drink.
"Lucky guess." You say, grinding your teeth in a tight smile as you set down the empty tray on the grass. She giggles and continues conversing with Azriel, and you decide to not even try to engage this time.
You stalk over to the towel Mor is currently lounging on, her sunglasses set high on her nose. Your body creates a shadow, and she sits up grumbling.
"Ugh, Y/N, I'm trying to get a tan!" Her eyes finally adjust, seeing that you're stripping off your clothes, only a small emerald green bikini underneath. Her mouth pops open and she gasps, loud enough for everyone to hear. You're kicking off your shoes when she takes her glasses off and gapes at you.
"Girl, I'd let you stand over me any day -- you look good as fuck!" She squeals. You roll your eyes, her loud appraisal catching attention as she continues to compliment you.
"Seriously! Feyre, have you seen Y/N's suit? She is looking like fine wine-" She looks you up and down, and you notice behind her, Feyre has jogged over to where her friend Lucien has just arrived. Feyre turns her attention to you over Morrigan's whooping and hollering, giving you a thumbs up
"Looks good! I told you it would!" She shouts. She turns back to her Autumn court friend, but his eyes are drinking you in as though you are the wine itself. You steal a glance at Azriel, and boy are you glad you did -- he is pissed. He is glaring at Lucien as Elain babbles on, absentmindedly. She doesn't even realize he isn't listening to her anymore. You bend down, coming face to face with your bubbly blonde friend.
"Swim with me?" You say. She scoffs, tossing her sunglasses down and rising. You both walk to the bank of the Sidra, its gleaming water only inviting you in further.
"You know I'd never deny you, but I did want to lay out-" She is cut off by a strangled scream as Cassian yanks her in by the waist, her head reappearing moments later. Breathless, she pants.
"Cassian! Are you kidding?" Him and Rhysand only laugh, you shaking your head and chuckling along with them. You slowly enter the warm water, basking in the last few warm days the year has to offer. Mor wades past you, and makes to get out of the stream.
"Aww what! Where you goin'?" You whine pathetically. She runs her fingers through her soaked locks, huffing.
"I. Am not. Swimming. With those knuckleheads. Any longer." She stomps back over to her towel, and you stick your bottom lip out in feigned sadness.
"Aww, come on, Mor! You're already wet, just get back in and swim for a while!" You say. It isn't long before a splash to your left flings water near you, and you look around for a few moments before something grabs your ankles and drags you under. You come up a few moments later, Azriel resurfacing in front of you and laughing at your drenched complexion.
"I'll play." He says lowly. You shove his shoulder, and Mor waves a hand from her blanket, sunglasses already back on her face.
"Yes, yeah. Let Az play with you."
It isn't long before you're splashing around with your friends, everyone swimming besides Morrigan and Elain. Even Lucien has joined in, the water twirling his fiery locks over his shoulders. Maybe in another life, you'd fall in love with him.
But you're living this one, and you're still in love with your best friend.
"Hey, uhh," Azriel swims close to you, the sunset on the horizon illuminating his tanned skin. You can feel his hands creating water riplets around you to stay afloat, and you gaze at him. "Can we, like, swim over there? Maybe?" He asks, jerking his head toward the rocky alcove a few hundred feet away. Your eyes widen as you try not to think too hard about why he'd want you in there with him instead of his girlfriend; so you glance over to where everyone else is drying off and gathering their items. Elain is staring a hole into the side of your head.
"Sure," you say, timidly. Azriel grabs your hand under the water, his scarred fingers threading through yours with ease. You suck in a breath, and Azriel throws a smile towards Elain.
"We'll be in soon!" He shouts, and she returns the smile, almost a little smugly. She helps her sister collect the items from the grass, and Azriel stars swimming away, pulling you with him.
"Why did we need to come over here?" You ask, out of breath when he finally stops swimming behind a large rock. You can't see your friends anymore. You glance around nervously.
"Well, I had something I needed to talk to you about." He says. "Privately," he adds. Your cheeks heat. Its finally here, the moment has finally come.
"Oh, um. Okay. I think I have something I talk to you about too." You say. His eyebrows raise, and he smiles kindly at you.
"Oh! Alright. Well, why don't you go first then." He offers.
"I don't really... know... how to explain it." You fumble. The breeze blows over the water, pulling you away a bit. Azriel reaches for you, probably to hold you close but his hand grips onto your waist. He pulls a little too hard, and you're flush against his chest. His intense hazel eyes bore into yours, tiny water droplets dripping from the end of his onyx curls. Its silent for a moment, the mixed heavy breathing the only sound other than the nature around you. You gaze up at him, his eyes trailing down from your eyes... to your lips... then down to where your heaving chest rises and falls beneath the water's surface. Your eyes can't escape his full lips, and you snake your hands around his neck, pulling him in so impossibly close and close the gap.
Finally, after all these years, you get to taste those delicious lips on yours. You kiss him, softly, and when he pulls back, he looks at you with sorrow.
"Y/N... I..."
"I don't mind, Azriel. You know I love you; I want this. I would choose this. I choose you and me." Silver lines his eyes and you don't think you've ever seen him get so emotional. You pull him to you once more, kissing with more hunger this time, and he doesn't stop you. His hand scoops under your ass, squeezing and holding you tight, the other one flat against the side of your neck. His thumb brushes along your cheekbone as your fingers curl into his wet locks, when suddenly he rips away from you. He lets go as if he was a bug caught in a zapper, flinging himself away from you like you had electrocuted him. You instantly feel colder without his touch.
"W-what's wrong?" You ask, timidly. He runs a hand through his hair, and rubs his eyes with his palms, sighing.
"What is it, Azriel?" You ask, moving closer. He puts a hand out to stop you, and you begin to feel regret. No, not regret. Fear.
"Don't, Y/N." He says. You eyes close, near slits as you try and keep the sob rising in your throat at bay. He's never taken that tone with you before.
"Don't what? Be honest with you? Azriel, I love you, and-"
"I have a mate, Y/N." He cuts you off. You feel like you've been stabbed in the gut, thrown off a cliff; what was he talking about?
"W-what?" You ask. That sob is barely at bay, tears stinging your eyes as you try to keep from crying. He moves his hands to look at you, and immediately sighs and looks down at the water, hating to do this.
"Yeah... uh, Elain and I-"
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." You huff a humorless laugh and a single tear slips free. You don't bother brushing it away; you just cross your arms instead. He narrows his eyes at you.
"What is your problem with her?" He asks. The sinking feeling in your chest only intensifies as he defends her. You begin to feel angry, angry your best friend, who you'd die for, would defend another dumb girl who didn't know him like you did. Not even in the slightest.
"What is the problem with me?" You ask. He shoots you a confused look, and you continue. "Am I not quite good enough for you? Is that it? I'm not an Archeron, I'm not High Fae; I'm not officially in the Inner Circle? I don't-" You breathe, gasping for air as tears run down your cheeks now. "I don't look like her? I get it Azriel. I fucking got it. Loud and clear-"
"Shhh, shh shh. Heyy," he swims close, offerring you his hand. You want more than anything to fall into his chest and cry, just cry it all out; but you don't. You won't. He doesn't want you. He never did.
"You know none of that is true-"
"Don't bother." You say sharply. He sighs, dropping his hands in the water.
"Y/N, look I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, okay? You know how important mating bonds are; I just wanted to make sure it was real, and it would work and Feyre would be okay with it-"
"You... you already told. Feyre?" You seethe. His eyes widen, realizing maybe he shouldn't have revealed that information.
"I, uh... yeah. I did. And once she knew, it kind of got out and everyone knew," he mumbles. You clench your hands into fists.
Your favorite cake.
Elain's smug smile.
"Let Az play with you," Mor had said.
They all knew. No one told you. Not even your best friend. They knew you'd be hurt and not a single one of them told you. A small cry reverberates in your chest and you turn away from Azriel.
"Please don't be mad at me, Y/N. You know you're my best friend, you know I'd do anyth-"
"Save it." You say, wading toward the water's edge. "We're done here."
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You hadn't seen him since he accepted his bond with Elain six months ago; you couldn't even bring yourself to sit through the entire ceremony they hosted. It was all too much.
That was the first crushing blow. But then, to find out that not only had he accepted the bond and been happy about it, but now you were bonded to someone you didn't want either?
What a joke. The mating bond was a joke -- it had to be. All these years of believing that bonds were so special... it was all bullshit.
As you sit near the bank, you hear footsteps approaching behind you. You didn't quite care who it was; after all, you were so deep in loathing that you had grown distant from all of your friends over the past few months. It didn't help that the last words you'd hurled at them were unkind, but... maybe it's what they needed to hear. They did keep a huge thing from you, and you haven't even begun to figure out how to move on yet.
Moving on from Azriel sounded like it would be the end for you. You didn't know how you'd ever do it -- it was always him. There never was anyone else for you. You only wanted him.
And now he was honeymooning with his mate. Fucking her. Loving her. Allowing her to know him on a level only you'd ever been on.
Tears are streaming down your cheeks when a whisper pulls you from your thoughts.
"Y/N?"
You turn slowly, the last person you'd expected to see standing behind you. His hair was windblown, his skin tan from the Summer court sun. He had a few light freckles dusting his nose.
Upon seeing your upset state, he slowly approached you, and sat down beside you. Staring out at the water, you continued to let the tears fall, chin resting on your bent knees. His gaze was hot as he stared at you, taking you in fully.
"Y/N... this isn't okay... you're-" his voice cracks. "You're not okay." He whispers the last part, and your eyes meet his. Tears stream down his cheeks, dripping onto the cream colored button-down he's sporting. Typical Summer court fashion, but you should expect that as he did just spend time there.
He grabs onto your shoulders, pulling you to his chest. You have no choice but to sink in, open sobs emitting from your broken hearted chest. He breaths deeply, resting his chin atop your head. A drop of water lands on your shoulder, a tear. It's from him.
He holds you for a few minutes, allowing you to release all your emotions. He sighs, the sun dipping low alolng the horizon. You finally pull back and look at him. Nothing was going to change about your situation.
Your eyes caught on the black letters still imprinting his arm, fresh tears brimming your eyes.
"I hate seeing you like this," he says, sniffing. "You're my best friend Y/N. You always find the good in every situation, in everyone... that's why everyone loves you so much. You saw the good in me when no one else did." He says, rubbing your shoulder. You train your eyes on the grass below.
"I hate this too. But I love you," you say, not looking to meet his eyes. "If this is what is making you happy, I love that for you." He takes one of your hands in his.
"Y/N, it's just... Gods, this is a mess." He says. You let out a humorless laugh.
"Yeah. Even more of a mess now that I have a mate too." His eyes widen, and you look up just in time to see something swimming in those hazel orbs.
"Oh." He says. He drops your hand, but you reach over and place yours on top of where his now rests in his lap.
"The difference is, I would still choose you and me." You say, and he wipes a tear from your cheek. "I would always choose you and me. Because you're my best friend Azriel; and I love you. I don't know how to stop." You say. You lean back, resting your head in the grass as he gets comfortable laying beside you. His fingertips graze over the spot where he'd written on you -- marked you -- years back, reiterating the sentiment he'd etched there.
"And you're mine, too."
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87 notes · View notes
starpirateee · 1 day
Note
Hi!! Could you write one of the Curtwen prompts I made, yet didn’t cut it? I love your writing style!!
Honestly there was a bit of deliberation here because you put some really good ideas out there on the form, but I did say I'd write em myself, and by all means, I'll still do it! So, I decided to go for this prompt:
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Would you take a modern au from me? Can I do that?
I mean, I'm going to anyway, because I have a dire need to call Curt and Owen husbands (and also for wider Starkid lore), but i just thought I'd warn you beforehand!
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"Agent Carvour, have you found anything yet?"
Owen leaned back away from his research. He'd been looking at the same page now for a while, trying to make some sense of it. Redacted government files were hard to get hold of, but even harder to make ends of. His system had been trying to translate it, but not even he had the software for that.
"Quite possibly, sir. I have a few sources, at least."
"What have you got?"
With an air of something that was almost excitement and almost elation, Owen pulled up a series of documents and started the walk through them. "Well, sir, the easiest source was from a few years ago. There's a company in Michigan that's been trying to conduct various temporal experiments under their parent company— some kind of analyst company, I think. They're surprisingly ordinary. Anyway, apparently the experiments just… Stopped. They never drew a conclusion on whether or not their research was connected to what was on the other side."
This had all started when Chimera had dug up a series of centuries old reports about people claiming to have looked into the eyes of old gods. None of the people had known each other, but all of the reports showed some form of consistency, and all told of great, unknowable power.
So, they had decided to look into it, to see if there had been anyone else who'd dared to brave the process of trying to find an answer. Owen was one of those lucky enough to find himself with the resources to start a thorough investigation.
"They didn't finish?"
"No, I don't know what happened, but the reports just stopped one day."
"Is there anything else?"
"An american government report, but it's as hard as you can imagine to decipher. Most of it is redacted…"
"Anything worth noting?"
Owen nodded, carefully turning back and switching the tabs. This felt a little like he was giving a presentation that he hadn't prepared for, and he hadn't felt like this in quite some time. He took a breath, trying to slow down the rampage that was going on in his head. "They started in the early noughts. 2005, to be precide. That's the earliest I'd gotten without looking at those old reports from the pioneers. A branch of the military tried to build a gateway to the other side, to investigate what existed outside of our plane. I don't know names, only one. The name of the man who performed the experiment."
"They got this gateway open?"
"Yes, sir. And they sent someone through. I think there's a good reason why his is the only name they disclosed."
"Why?"
"Because he was declared dead, sir."
His screen still displayed the document, and the man's name sat among the black markouts, clear enough to see. Cross, W.D. Apparently, he'd ventured into the portal, and nobody heard from him or saw him after the date of the experiment. They gave up the search after a month, and after that, Colonel Cross was indeed declared dead.
"So, another dead end?"
"Maybe not. I'll do what I can to uncover this with what I've got available, but it was scanned, so…. It might take some time." Owen was normally confident in his abilities, and uncovering government documents was a difficult yet necessary part of the job. There was something almost genuinely enthralling about scraping off the parts that the world's governments wanted to keep secret. It felt like giving people a small yet surprisingly effective slice of justice every time.
"Keep looking, Carvour. We need to know if this is viable, or even worth our time…"
If Owen had any kind of normal life— if he and his husband didn't both do the dirty work for secret operation services— he would have a blast trying to decide how to describe the intricacies of what he'd been researching lately. The throws of domestic life confounded him to no end, which was why it was so funny when he and Curt tried to imitate that.
The otherwise simple question of "how was your day" turned into a battle of who could craft the most believable lie that better concealed what they'd actually done. Neither wanted to jeopardise their jobs, and Curt had always been brilliant at crafting stories, so it was never dull.
He started to think about what today's excuse would be. Something about pioneers, or the Oregon trail, or perhaps he could bring up that old, dead colonel somehow, that would be interesting to add to the pile.
--
"You know what I'm gonna ask already…"
By the time he got home, Curt was already waiting for him, and the mid-spring sun was starting to set. For anyone else, it was a day at the office, but the trails he had begun to uncover had really put all other days at the office to shame.
He laughed softly, having prepared this answer a number of hours before, and took up a position on the couch. "No, love, you first. I insist."
"Fine, okay," Curt answered with a chuckle. "It was nothing really, just your standard… But, the bear returned, and in about a month, I'm gonna get really rich and run off to central Europe, with a really pretty lady and a dollar store box of magic tricks."
"The same bear from last month?"
"Yeah. Bastard won't leave me alone."
"Sounds wild. Are you coming back after your plans to run off with this really pretty lady?"
"Plan is to cut myself off after three weeks, but at this rate, I might not make it two."
"Not good enough?"
"Owen, I'm a bit too gay for that." To sell his point, he flashed his wedding band, and Owen laughed harder. "Besides," he added, covering his own bout of laughter. "Who needs a fake wife when I've got my own right here?"
Owen shot him a faux-offended glance. "How dare you!"
"You might fool the guys at work, O, but you couldn't pretend you don't think about it…"
Or that he hadn't been experimenting in that part of himself in little segments since he was seventeen. Turns out he suited long hair better, and he wouldn't hesitate to admit that he both looked and felt rather good with the occasional flourish.
"You know me well..."
"I should hope so! Anyway, what're you keeping from me? How was your day?"
"Office, just like you. I've had a conversation with a pioneer, and tried to erase marker pen over the body of a dead soldier. Oh, and I tried to teach myself statistical analysis."
"Jeez, that was— that was a whole rollercoaster there, huh?"
"Mhm, I've been busy."
"You can say that again, god… So, a pioneer? Like those guys that travelled to Oregon?"
"Yeah. Quite interesting people, if a little paranoid." Something other than their oxen might be watching them would've been a perfect addition to the statement, but Owen felt that was a little too close to the line to pass, so he decided not to add it.
The important part was, apart from the knowledge that Curt was on an assignment in a month's time, both of them were none the wiser. Curt didn't need to know that he had started the deep dive into a pack of eldritch gods and was even slightly nervous about the outcome.
He didn't sleep well that night. He knew that he had right to believe that this was all one great hoax, that there was something in the water that made the pioneers mass hallucinate this supposed watcher. They all travelled on the same trail, it was entirely plausible that all of them found the same hallucinogenic and envisioned a thousand eyes watching them and their familes. It was less of a coincidence when two subsidaries of larger companies started describing details of experiments that led them to discovering other beings beyond just the watcher, of course, but he still wasn't sure whether he was privy to believing any of it.
There was something about redacted government files, though, that were meant to be believed. There was a reason they hid information from the public, and that was often because they had found something worth disclosing in the first place. That meant huge news, large press cover ups… The whole works… And that was the last thing any self-respecting government with something to hide would want. Owen imagined the size of the initial press conferences for dealings like Roswell, how many people must've shown up to that conference, under the impression that they were going to get answers, only for the press to redact the next day and claim that it was no more than a weather balloon.
He felt like he was dealing with a weather balloon of his own right now. This was something that this branch of the military clearly didn't want people knowing. The only reason they'd had to disclose any information at all was because one of their own had died looking for this information, and they had to provide the closure for whatever family he had left. Part of him wondered what they'd said, how they'd tried to cover up this man's imminent demise at the hands of another dimension. What did his family know? Was he ever given a sendoff?
When Owen tried to sleep that night, plagued with the thoughts of how much his research was worth, and what really happened on the other side, he couldn't get his head in the right place to take a suitable rest for long enough. Flashes of colour— brighter than anything he'd ever seen— danced behind his eyelids, chasing each other in sequence. Blue. Purple. Yellow. Pink. Green. White. Blue…. He didn't have much of the capacity to think, not when those colours started consuming his subconscious thought, but he spared a moment to the hope that he may get answers of his own if he stuck around long enough.
"He thinks he's brave… He thinks we don't know about him…"
Whatever dream he had been having was taken over by blurred edges and violent pangs of pain that he was sure he could feel outside of this existence. Everything faded out, leving only ruin in it's wake. Broken pieces, scrambled signals… Owen didn't even try and make sense of it, he already understood the futility of trying. There was nothing left in his mind but those colours and those voices— for he was sure there was more than one. A sickening chorus, holding perfect time with each other.
"He's foolish, if he thinks he can go further without us finding out."
"Owennnn…"
"We know what you're doing, Owen…. It's not going to last."
He'd thought about meeting his maker before. He'd thought about the possibility of death, the idea that he may not live to see another day eventually. It was hard to deliberate something so serious in his early thirties, but his line of work called for it. He knew that he had a dangerous job, and that there were few who would be able to save him if something happened.
But, he'd never considered the possibility of his own demise to this extent before. In the formless remains of his dream, where he was forced into hearing these voices talk about his death and how soon it would be to coming, he had pause for deliberation. And it wasn't good.
He had to strain to take control of his own voice, in this space that was once his own. Once so sacred, now scarce and left entirely to the whim of whatever was taking residence in his mind. This was a bad idea. All of this research was a bad idea, and he was suddenly more aware of that than he was anything else. Never before had he had such a violent urge to overturn everything he'd worked on for the sake of something this seemingly trivial.
"There's nothing you can do. It's already started. This is bigger than me…"
"We know that. You're not the only one we have heard trying to work your way into what is ours… Choose your next step carefully, Owen. I'm sure we would delight in taking you in the same direction as the others…"
Before he could really ask what that meant, he was left entirely alone. The ruin of his dream still stood strong, which was strange enough given that the voices had left him alone, but he had the strangest feeling that there was more to this landscape than just what he was being shown. He started to wander, to look around in an attempt to find the real end to all of this. His mind was a wasteland, taken over by the lack of colour and the apparently deafening absence of those voices that had only appeared a moment before. He felt empty without them, although he knew nothing more than the sequence of colours that paraded through his vision.
Blue… Purple…. Yellow…
The pattern was familiar, like he'd seen it before somewhere. And while he wasn't resting easy, he couldn't force himself to wake up, either. No matter how hard he tried, he was just left stuck, wandering the expanse until he found what he was apparently looking for.
Pink…. Green…. White… Blue…
The expanses of his mind stretched out into a road, occupied by nothing but empty space. He supposed that was mostly his own fault; he had known for years that his imagination was never one to be put on par with anything else. He couldn't so vividly picture that which others could, and he'd never really had much of a capacity to dream, either.
So, this warning was strange. Seeing such vivid, bright colours in the back of his mind, knowing that he couldn't have conjured them himself…
He started to walk the road, curious enough to want to know where it went.
"Owen?"
That voice wasn't like the ones who had left moments before. That voice had a personality, and a person to go with. It was warm, though scared. Human all the same. And Owen knew the shape of it.
"Owen?"
Owen let his instinct lead him down the road, through it's many curves and winds. Eventually, the road gave way to what could only possibly be a stage. There was a set of stairs to one side, that he let himself climb before he could think to wonder where they led, and then the familiar voice gave way to a man in the wings, staring at him with desperate, fear-lined eyes. Of course he knew the voice, and of course he had never tried to doubt himself on the matter.
He tried to advance towards Curt, but he took a hasty step back, shaking his head.
"Curt?"
"Prove you're Owen."
"I'm sorry?"
Curt hesitated, and then slowly emerged from the wings. Even though he stood on the light of the stage, it still looked like he was carefully enveloped in shadow, like the darkness was a comfort to him. Owen looked around, wondering what had made him so cautious, and whether it was still around. Had Curt seen what he'd seen? What had those things whispered to him?
"I'm not falling for it again. Tell me you're actually Owen…"
Owen frowned, not wanting to dwell too much on why Curt was so afraid to reach out to him and realise that all of this was as real as they could get it. "Curt, love, I don't know what you want me to say…" There was a certain desperation about him too. Improvisation had never been his strong suit, but he wass confident that, given the right prompt, he would be able to convince his husband that he was who he said he was, to quell any discrepancy that it may have been otherwise.
"Don't. Show me… What happened on your 25th birthday."
The pieces fit into place, and Owen nodded dutifully. He had been out in the field that day, a strikingly hot day in the middle of June. The two of them had barely ended up with three hours together by the end of it, and they'd gone out drinking to celebrate what little time was left of his birthday. He'd never been particularly big on celebrating, but Curt had insisted. They were newly married then, and getting used to the idea of sharing a life with someone else. That was one of the first nights following their wedding when Owen truly came to realise that he'd made entirely the right decision, and that there was nobody he'd rather share his life with than Curt Mega.
"My 25th… That was a home ground mission. I was in the state."
"What happened to you?"
Owen smiled, somewhere between fondness and a need to hide the melancholic air that hung about that question. He pushed up the sleeve of his jacket, and huffed a weary breath of laughter. "I was trying to make my exit, but the suit jacket caught on a fence. Here…" With his sleeve rolled to just the right length, Owen held out his arm and pointed out a pale flash just below his elbow— a jagged scratch that had never quite healed right. "That's what happened after the fabric tore. Is that enough?"
Curt had known about the scar. He'd also known about the story. He was pretty sure that nobody else knew, though, so in his head, that had always been his fallback option in the event that he was ever sure Owen needed to prove himself. Those stories lined up perfectly, and while Owen had missed out on some of the details, in the grander scheme of things, he'd gotten it exactly right. He shifted, letting a knowing smile cross his face through the fear that still gripped him.
"It's really you…"
"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"
Curt's approach was still careful, premeditated. Even though he knew the truth now, there was still something about him that screamed a lack of trust directly into his ear, and it made actually reaching out for Owen so much harder. "You… You were trying to kill me."
"What now?"
"I know what I saw…"
"I don't doubt you, but I would never… I swear it on my life."
"I know, that's why it was strange… I— What the hell's happening?" This stage was the only thing connecting the two of them to reality. There was nothing beyond it but the end of the road that Owen had travelled down, and nothing behind it but black, empty space.
Owen let his instinct take over. If the two of them were going to face the unknown, whatever and wherever this was, then they were going to do it together. They always had, and they always would. That was the way things worked, especially for the two of them, because their lives were built so heavily on the idea of distrust that any semblance of the opposite they could get, they would cling to. Normally that was exclusively each other, and so the world wasn't usually much larger than the two of them.
Their hands connected in the middle of the emptiness. Owen pulled Curt Closer to him, and the two of them stood side, performers to an unknown audience, marionettes for something larger than themselves. They exchanged a glance, and Owen registered the warm, homely spark residing in Curt's eyes.
"I think we're trapped in a nightmare, crazy as it sounds," he tried to respond, but he wasn't entirely sure where this was going to go. "I can't wake up, but I remember falling asleep last night."
"Me too. I fell asleep before you did, you were still reading."
"Right, and now there's this. Whatever this is. did you, by chance, see those colours too?"
Curt nodded. "They came before you did, before the- other you. Blue, and purple, and yellow…"
"…Pink, and green, and white..?"
"And then blue again."
Owen heaved a sigh. "Curt, there's something I have to confess. It's safe to do so now, there's little that could get in the way of what I have to admit, but this is one of those things I wouldn't be able to tell you awake, you understand?"
There was a moment's pause, in which Curt tried to work around Owen's phrasing. Both of them felt the incredibly revealing sense that they were being watched, so Curt understood that Owen had gone into the professional mindset— switching off his senses for the sake of making as much sense of something as possible. It was always how he rationalised his way through situations, and it hadn't failed him yet.
Eventually, Curt nodded again, as the words started to sink in and he started to get a sense of what was being said. "This about what you told me this evening?"
"Yeah, I'm afraid there's a little more to it than what I told you, but I suppose that was rather obvious."
A nervous breath of laughter left Curt, only partially voluntary. "I thought there'd be a bit more to it than erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier…. What the hell kinda explanation was that, anyway?"
"One I spent a good hour crafting, thank you very much. I thought it was clever."
"Better than a pretty lady and a box of tricks?"
"And a bear, yes."
"… And the bear. Right. Well, what's that mean? erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier, what're you saying there?"
"I've…" This is not going to get you done for. Those documents were already top secret before you saw them. And if it gets you out of this nightmare prison, then surely it has to be worth it. "I've been uncovering sealed military case files that might explain what's happening to us right now."
Curt's eyes went wide. "Fucking what?!"
"It's all part of the job. I can't… I can't elaborate. Know only what everyone else knows: that the only reason any part of this is disclosed at all is because someone died during one of the experiments."
"What's that got to do with what's happening here?"
"That's what they were researching."
That seemed to click to some degree. At least, Curt seemed to understand a few of the larger pieces, perhaps the more obvious ones. "The colours?" In his head, there was an experiment, someone tried to make sense of whatever that was in their shared mindscape. Someone— a soldier, presumably, had died in the middle of these experiments, and now Owen had gotten tangled in this mess through his agency, and the two of them had been dropped into the same nightmare.
Owen nodded. "The colours."
At the moment he said that, a loud rumble disrupted their moment and forced their attention out into the expanse of nothing. Laughter— multiple sources with varying shrieks and gasps that couldn't be placed to a single source— burst from behind the wings, and from in front of them, and from the endless expanse of black that surrounded them. A loud crack followed, and Curt swore as the stage splintered beneath his feet. For a split second, his grip loosensed, and the next time the ground rumbled, they were torn apart by the growing crack in the stage. He staggered back, and the two of them ended on opposite sides of the stage, the crack between them growing and delving deeper into the unknown.
"Owen!" He called, trying to regain his footing but falling back.
"Curt! Hold on!" Owen yelled through the growing laughter, scrambling back to reach out for the pulley system backstage. He needed a foothold on something, a way to sturdy himself so he could regroup and think. It was too loud, he couldn't think in this kind of heat, with this kind of mess, and Curt, and-
Another crack. The stage was starting to fall away from itself, split not quite perfectly in two. Owen's breath ran short. In the swirls of colour and mayhem and possibilities, he saw a way out. One chance to get this right, and to make sure that they both survived the fall while they were still stuck here. He gripped the rope tight, levering himself further towards the crack, and looked to Curt. "You're gonna have to jump it!" He called, desperation winning over any attempts to stay sane. "Don't worry! You know I'll never let you down!"
"Are you crazy?!" Curt managed, staring into the gap. "I can't jump that, it's too far!"
"Curt, before the whole place splits in half, you have to get over here!"
"What if I don't make it?"
"Trust me! Please!"
Curt backed off a few paces. Owen stood ready, one hand gripping the rope wrapped around his wrist, and the other reaching out as far as he could, waiting for a move to be made. After a singular preparatory breath, he sprinted for the gap, and pushed off from the splintered wood at the edge.
He reached out.
Owen reached out.
Their fingertips connected briefly in the space, and then Curt slipped away beneath his grasp.
Owen threw himself forward, feeling the rope worming itself free and burning his wrist in the process. He'd promised. He wasn't going to let Curt fall. And he was nothing if not a man of his word.
Curt's eyes squeezed shut, preparing for an endless fall through the ineviatble. Something laced around his wrist and he felt himself stop moving. Exerting all the caution he knew to exert, he looked up, and caught a familiar whiskey brown staring back at him.
"I've got you!" Owen breathed, and Curt fought to angle himself so that he could get a better chance to grab the broken stage floor. When Owen started hauling backwards, Curt managed to get a hold of the edge of the stage, and made it a joint effort to haul him to his feet. "You're alright… You're okay…"
Curt essentially fell into Owen's arms. Owen held on tight, like he could lose his partner at any second to the swirls and the crevice. He stared out into the emptiness, ignoring the very real pain that he could feel at his wrist but cherishing the very reel feeling of Curt's shirt underneath his hands. The very air seemed to shift. Owen wasn't previously aware that colours could get angry, but this green that flooded the space behind his eyes was pissed. He could feel it.
So was he. Pissed, and way more desperate than a man ought to be.
"Alright," he muttered once, and Curt drew back ever so slightly. He noticed Owen was staring off into the greater expanse, and hoped for all it was worth that he couldn't see something out there.
"Alright!" His voice got louder, and he tried to mask his utter despair in an authorative tone. "I get it. You hear me? I get it!"
Everything fell eerily silent. The only sound that remained was the pounding of Owen's heart in his ears. He took a breath, strangely certain of himself. Glanced at Curt. Spared his attention on the void again.
"That soldier… Wilbur Cross? That was your fault, wasn't it? There's a good reason nobody can get very far into digs like these, and it's because you strive to kill them before they do. Nobody ought to know what's on the other side, and that's why nobody does…"
"Owen, what're you doing?" Curt whispered, but to no response and little avail. Owen was lost in whatever he was about to say.
"… But, I've heard talk of bargains being made here, so how about it?"
"Your desperation speaks for itself."
Owen had to pretend that that— the voice from the middle of nowhere or what it had said to him— didn't bother him in the slightest. He steeled himself, not sure where to direct his attention but knowing he'd probably have it right no matter what he chose. "What do you say, am I allowed to make a deal?"
The air shifted. Owen didn't receive a direct answer, but he knew that he'd been allowed to continue. "If I don't continue— if I go back, and tell my people that it's an impossibility, that it can't be done— would you let him go?" Another quick glance at Curt, as if the green something needed clarification, or as if he knew what he was signing himself up for.
Curt was frozen in place, his eyes wide. He'd heard every word as it echoed in the void, and he hated what it was implying. His gaze was fixed on Owen, fear blazing through his face. "No, Owen—" his voice came out weak. As far as literal interpretations go, that was not a good one. He didn't understand what was happening, but it terrified him to know that Owen was being so calm about this, while he could be selling his life away with nothing more than a few choice words.
Owen frowned, and muttered an apology he was sure only Curt would catch. The green grew angrier, setting a violent fire behind his eyes and forcing him onto his knees as the pain flooded his body.
"You better not be fucking with me."
"No! I— I wouldn't! I'm serious! I'll call it off, I swear on my life, just… He has nothing to do with any of this. It's not his fault."
The thing considered, holding Owen firmly in place while he deliberated. Curt couldn't move— he didn't dare, lest something happen to Owen that put him in more danger than he was already in. All he could do was force himself into keeping his breath steady, and not thinking about what a single wrong move could do to either of them. His eyes landed on the friction burn winding neatly around Owen's wrist, and he decided to focus on that for a while; the only other colour in a void of blackness and green.
"Very well."
That was the last thing Owen heard. Some part of his mind just shut down, and he collapsed to the floor of the stage. He didn't hear the way Curt screamed his name, or the return of the chorus of laughter. His eyes closed, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up with a start, underneath the sheets of his own bed, gasping for breath. He sturdied himself out, and once he was sure that he was real, and definitely in a familiar space, he looked over to Curt, and found him still asleep.
"Curt?" His voice was soft, but his mind was a knife point of tension. If that had gone wrong, then why was he the one to live through it ant not Curt? He tried again, biting his lip. "Curt..?"
Curt groaned. His eyes opened slowly. The relief that Owen felt hit him like a tidal wave.
For some reason, Curt was entirely surprised to see that Owen had made it through to the other side. He managed a weary smile, and tried to get his vision into focus. That was one of those decisions that he immediately came to regret. As soon as he brought himself a little more into the real worls, he noticed that the brown in Owen's eyes was stained with something else, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. Dripping down his irises was a flash of toxic, unsettlingly bright green.
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reareaotaku · 3 days
Text
Maid of the Rich
Inspo: sluttsxphobia [I think they abandoned this idea, but I really like it, so I'm stealing it.] Summary: You were hired as a maid, but the day Miles returns from school, he makes it his mission to make your life a living hell. But one day his idea of you changes, though you wish he'd just continued to hate you Tw: Mean Miles [Obviously], Miles being creepy Taglist: @fxchild, @milesfairchild2, [Make a part 2??]
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You groaned as you put the car into park. You did not imagine that this is where your life would be at peak 20; A maid for some snooby rich kids. You turned off the engine and slammed your car door, mumbling under your breath as you walked up to the main doors.
You're met by an older lady who practically gave you a death stare. It wasn't like you wanted to be there either, so you didn't know why she seemed angry. Besides, she was the one who hired you, so she had no right to be upset.
She let you in and showed you around the mansion while explaining to you what you had to do. It was all just small talk and a waste of breath. You already knew what you were supposed to do and you doubted her showing you around will help you remember where everything is. Let's be honest, the place was huge; It'd take you a while to adjust. A part of you was jealous that someone got to live here and enjoy the lavish life of riches- That was until she, the woman showing you around, reminded you to be patient with the kids, because their parents had just died and the eldest had just lost a close companion. Though, the way she said companion made you think she thought the relationship as something else- Something she didn't like.
In your eyes, it seemed she didn't like much of anything. Besides how hard could it be to watch some brats?
---
You slowly walked into the office, before looking around the room. You let out a breath of relief when seeing it was empty. You walked over to a desk and pulled at some cabinets. You were looking for papers on the man who died? You weren't sure what she was, but you needed to know what happened to him.
You groan when seeing the dozens of unmarked papers in the drawers. You hear a noise behind you causing you to freeze. Imagine your surprised when you turned around and their was a teenage boy standing behind you. You practically jumped out of your skin as your nails dug into the desk. The boy was practically hidden in the shadows, which only creeped you out more.
"Who are you?" You finally got out after a while of silence.
"I'm Miles. I live here. Who are you?"
When Mrs. Grose had said 'Kids' you expected young children- Like under the age of 10. But this kid- Teen, Miles, looked like an older teen, maybe a young adult. But, since he was in a school uniform, you assumed he had to be under 18.
"I'm the new maid."
"No shit," He eyes you up and down. "What's your name."
You wanted to give the boy a dirty look, but something in you said that was a bad idea. With his attitude, you could only imagine the two of you wouldn't be getting along. "L/n. My names L/n."
"L/n? That sounds like a last name."
"Good observation."
"What's your first name?"
You ignore him and turn back around towards the desk, fiddling with the papers. Miles glares at your back, annoyed. He takes a step towards you, but you don't pay him any mind. In fact, you turn back around him and pat his shoulder-
"I'll uhh, see ya... Miles." And then you push past him and leave the room.
Oh, yeah, now he was pissed.
---
You could feel his eyes on you. Every move you make, he's watching. It was like he could sense your anxiety about being watch and liked to watch you squirm. You could hear every breath he took and it was starting to get to you.
"You missed a spot."
"What?" You look back at him, confused.
"You. Missed. A. Spot." He points to a spot next to your hand that you had been scrubbing at for a few minutes. It was sticky and stuck to the counter.
You frown at his smirk and rolled your eyes, "Yeah, well, I also wasn't finished."
"I sure hope not, since you did a shitty job."
You felt your fist clench and you took a deep breath, before shaking your head. You grabbed a cleaning bottle before spraying the spot and finally getting it. You smirked and turned to the smartass boy, "There. His majesty now has a clean spot."
He huffs, rolling his eyes, but doesn't respond. You felt satisfied that you had gotten him to shut up. He turns to leave but you quickly call him back.
"Oh, Miles- Uh, just a tiny favor, trying aiming IN the toilet, yeah?"
He frowns deeply, giving you a stinky eye, before tilting his head, "I'll aim on your grave you fucking whore."
You sigh, clicking your tongue, "I'm not to worried. If you can't aim in a toilet, I doubt you'll hit the grave."
"Fuck you, bitch."
"Oh no, the little mean boy called me a bitch. I'm so sad."
"Laugh it up while you can. You won't be here much longer."
You looked at him confused. At first you thought he meant he would get you fired, but a part of you saw it more as a death threat. Though, it was an empty threat, because a part of Miles liked your banter with one another. It was... Nice. Really nice.
---
The garden was nice, much nicer than any place you've ever been. You looked around the many rose bushes that surrounded you. Miss Fairchild seemed to have an eye for pretty flowers. Maybe it was a way to hide the tragedy of the Fairchild family. You sighed, leaning back and pushing your hair out on the fluffy grass. It was so peaceful- Until it wasn't.
"What are you doing?"
You groan when hearing the voice and rubbing your eyes. "You've got to be kidding me," You mumble under your breath.
"Shouldn't you be cleaning? Or something."
"Or something... I'm on break."
"You get breaks?"
"Yeah, it's called Worker's Rights... I think- Well, it's a law."
He walks towards you, before towering over you. He leans his head over you, displeasing you. His face was blocking the sun and right in your line of vision.
"Do you even know what you're talking about."
"Well, I'm working a shitty job for shitty pay, so you tell me if I know anything."
"Shitty job?"
"Yeah, that's what I said. I'm glad you can hear."
"How much do you get paid?" He tilts his head, watching you sit up.
"Enough to come back, I guess. I mean, I haven't quit, so..."
"So, it's not shitty pay."
"I guess not. But no amount of money would make this job bearable."
He doesn't respond and you're thankful. You run a hand through your hair and yawn. You push yourself up and brush off your clothes.
"You should get back to work. Mrs. Grose wouldn't like to see you relaxing. She hates anything fun."
"Yeah, I've noticed..." You turn back towards him, giving him a suspicious look. "You're being weird. Why are you being weird?"
He rubs his chin, giving you a confused look. "Weird? What do you mean?"
"Don't play dumb... You're being nice..."
"Is that illegal?" He asks with an attitude, making you roll your eyes.
"No, but I don't like it. I know you're up to something. I've got my eye on him." You hand gesture the 'I'm watching you' before walking away from him.
---
You kept your eye on the boy, but... Everything was fine. He wasn't ruining your life and wasn't making you feel miserable. In fact, he went out of his way to make your life easier. He'd wash his plate, take out the trash, etc. You wished he'd go back to normal- something you never thought you'd say.
---
Miles stood over your bed, watching you closely. He lightly hums to himself, as he sits on the edge of your bed. He feels it dip, before sighing to himself. You looked so peaceful- Like nothing could hurt you. It was nice to look at. He wanted that; Peace.
His hand felt your body through the blanket. He wished he could touch your bare skin, though this would have to suffice. It wouldn't satisfy him for longer, but for now you were safe.
---
You awoke in the middle of the night feeling strange. You looked around your dark room, but nothing... It's not like you could see though. You hear a bang, causing your eye to turn towards your window. It was just a tree branch. You sigh in relief, before closing your eyes. Doing this, you missed the sound of your door opening and slowly closing.
You didn't sleep for much longer, but this time you were awaken by something more pleasant. It was a nice tune playing throughout the house. You slowly sit up, heading towards the before opening it. You look around the dark halls, deciding to find where the noise was coming from.
You slowly walking down the hall, following the music. You finally stopped in front of a familiar door. The music was still soft, but louder than when you were in your room. You push your ear up against the door, listening. It was nice, beautiful even.
Though, you must have been leaning to hard, because the door pops open, causing you to fall to the floor. You quickly stand up, frozen as Miles turns towards you.
He had known you were out there. He had purposefully played the song that Quint had told him you liked. He planned this.
"Sorry- I uh... Heard you playing."
"Yeah... It's an echoie house."
"Yeah. Uh, you're really good..."
"I know."
You look around the room at the instruments. "Pretty late."
"I guess- Uh, is there something you want, Y/n?"
You quickly shake your head and hands, "No! No, I just heard the music and wanted to see what it was."
"Well, if you close the door and come in, I can play you something."
"Play me something?"
"Yeah. That's what I said. Glad you can hear."
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rainbowonice · 11 hours
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I'm barely hanging by a thread with this show.
The amount of PR that Oliver has done about Bucks storyline and Buddie has been overkill. To the point, where of Buddie doesn't happen after talking about it so much that headlines and clickbait have been created, they're going to look like they've just been shipbaiting to pull in the viewers!
Tommy and the homophobe/transphobe need to go. Lou's weird "thriving" video gives me the impression they're deffo not thriving! And the other one needs to go for obvious fucking reasons!
The whole Bi storyline would've been better coming from Eddie. They could've had Buck single and Eddie discovering himself like it was originally going to be. It would've been so much more interesting to watch!
But I do think the fact that the season only has 10 episodes has put a damper on things, too!
oh i agree with everything!!! it's definitely giving shipbait (for now) i feel like Oliver is saying unhinged Buddie stuff because, in his prospective, they can't really call him out for queerbaiting anymore, since Buck is canon bi now. But I really hope I'm wrong and that he actually knows that Buddie is endgame or something!
I'm still conflicted about Lou video to be honest, I'd rather if he wasn't there at all lmao but if he's there just to make things awkward and they are really NOT thriving then i Could be ok with it. for the Edy situation... idk how she even got in s7 to begin with, i know it's because Natalia actress wasn't available and Tim didn't want both of them to start off as single but they could have just went with a replacement and no one would have noticed 💀 big hope is that she will be bones before the season finale tho! No one likes her and the foreshadowing about them breaking up has been crazy (never date someone you met on a call, bobby convo etc)
Anon you have no idea I've been terrorizing my bestie about EddieTommy for WEEKS i still wouldn't like Tommy as a character but it would have made so much more sense and it would have been way more groundbreaking than BuckTommy! if episode 100 have zero haters I'm dead I REALLY HATE the whole execution and how they switched characters and keep making Buck and Eddie interchangeable cuz that will never be right and it will never sit well with me for various reasons (racism is the racism). And I've been wanting Buck to be single for the longest time let the man be alone and get to know himself for the love of God!
This season worst problem is that they are writing it as they go and they are really rushing things and you can really tell that they have no idea where the plot is going and the season being only 10 episodes make it so much worse :( hope season 8 will save us from this hell but if the last 5 episodes of the season don't get any better idk if i will survive to watch season 8 they are really making it hard for me and I've been watching the show since 2019!
Also i want to thank you for sending me your thoughts! I got so excited when i saw an ask in my inbox 🥰 this is a safe space for hating! I'm a yapper and a hater!!
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destinygoldenstar · 19 hours
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Ninjago Dragons Rising Season 2 - Is It Good Or Nah?
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So, I'm late to the party, aren't I?
Well I've had so much work that I think I'm having an existential crisis. So I had to wait till I had a free day to watch this season because I wanted to watch it with my GF.
We got to Episode 6, and then what did my boss do?
Slap me in the face with long work hours several days of the week.
I feel like I'm in a spiral of work after work after work with no purpose to life besides failure cause I can't trust myself to be capable at anything-
ANYWAY. We finished it now.
You know what the insane part about the season is? That it got the show trending on Tumblr.
That's an INSANE level of hype right there.
So I seriously had to ask myself "What the actual f**k happened in the show that caused THIS much hype?!"
So... here are my thoughts on the season.
SPOILER WARNING
Okay, so this may be a factor of my judgement, but due to my schedule, I was forced to watch only 6 Episodes one day, and then the last 4 Episodes today. Keep that in mind.
When it came to the first half of the season, was it good?
Yes. Obviously.
Was it living up to the insane level of hype?
Uh... not really for me??
Now, don't take that as a negative. This season is still REALLY good.
After the first season took awhile to get started as it needed to set up its characters and this new world, it makes sense for this season to throw the punches immediately.
The season gets started with its main plot right away with Ras immediately putting his plan into action, and by Episode 2, it's very clear the threat level he opposes and it's believable that we should be intimidated by what he wants.
Even though in Episode 2's fight, while AMAZINGLY choreographed, I was just screaming at the screen "HIT THE PERSON HOLDING THE GONG."
Like seriously, more than one of the characters in this fight can use projectiles with their powers AND they have a blaster in the Bounty, and the show never says that Ras has some sort of armor defense preventing him from getting blasted. He's literally standing out in the open. And the gong is clearly what's giving Cinder power. So HIT THE PERSON WITH THE GONG.
GOSH.
Anyway, that's not important. What's important is that this season's fight choreo is genuinely AMAZING. I am obsessed with the way the camera moves with the characters in these fights you have no idea. I was genuinely blown away by the last episode's fight in particular. But more on the ending later.
What also shocked me was how BRUTAL some of the stuff that happens here is, which caught me off guard.
I mean, Episode 2 has Euphrasia getting ambushed and crashed off the Cloud Kingdom with clear injuries, and Wyldfyre getting her leg SHATTERED. Like, WHAT?! HOW OFTEN DOES THAT HAPPEN?!! (Even though the latter's healing was unrealistic. Like, it would realistically take months for an injury like that to heal. Not a critique, just saying.)
Ras body slams Jordanna at one point. He puts Arin in a CHOKEHOLD. And also beats him up so brutally... like OMG this guy does not mess around.
The Fear Cave Trial also REALLY got me tripping. Not only was it such a visually appealing moment, but it also, as the same suggests, showed several character psyches that were insane.
Except Kai for some reason. That's gonna drive me NUTS until I get an answer. WHAT DID HE SEE-?!
Then we get to the dragon mentors, and...
Yeah the season kinda loses me in the middle.
Don't get me wrong, I love the character bits here as much as anyone. But with how dyer they made the threat of Ras before, Ras and his forces take a backseat in the middle portion of the season and we're mostly just sitting at these training grounds talking. And for four episodes of it? It's a little grating, even if it is important.
The middle is mostly where most of my issues with the season stand. And here's where I get all my negatives out of the way:
Like I said, because this season is so long, there's an awkward pause in the conflict on the dragons plotline to learn this Rising Dragon Technique. Which I wouldn't mind if it wasn't FOUR EPISODES of it.
With the exception of the attack at the Land of Lost Things ONCE, Ras's army doesn't go after the ninja at all. I can kinda get the dragons group since they didn't have Bonzle, but he has to know that they ARE a threat, right? They're obviously trying to figure out how to stop you.
And even with the group that has Bonzle, what they NEED, the forces that go after that group is the Administration and the one off magician man villain, the former really didn't need to be in this season even if it was for a compelling Jay cameo, and the latter has overstayed his welcome at this point and I just rolled my eyes when he showed up on screen.
I'm all for Cole being a badass as much as the next guy, but WHY this magician man, who at this point, is so disconnected with the main antagonistic forces that he serves no purpose?
Why not, I don't know, use this screen time instead to explain what in the world happened with Cole when he left?
Seriously, the first season had this huge cliffhanger with Cole's character and him going after Wu's ghost. I wonder what's gonna happen to him and what he's gonna find out-
Oh. He's just back.
That to me is a huge disappointment. What was the point of him leaving the Lost Family in the first place if this journey was basically nothing? He doesn't even talk about it! COME ON NOW.
Also I think Zane should get slay pass on the Administration guy that called him equipment. What do y'all think?
I don't like Egot. Or whatever his name was. He's very condescending and cryptic and talks down to his only hope of the world being saved. But I think I'm supposed to dislike him for it, and there's gonna be more of his characterization revealed later, so don't take this one as a critique. The female one is great though.
The sorceress lady was... a choice in the narrative. My one critique for the ending was the potion shenanigans. Not because they were bad, but because they just felt so out of place among everything else. Like, "Oh, this finale is too dark and intense! We need to occasionally cut to wacky shenanigans with this sorceress's magic to prevent kids from feeling too much dread!"
I don't know, for me, I would've placed this stuff with the Administration instead, and instead have the group fight Jordanna, lose, and have her get away and flow that to Arin getting to her. Especially since the Administration posed such little threat to them and they even say such.
(I also have a theory that this sorceress is Wyldfyre's birth mom. I have no evidence to back this up besides "They both have red hair and similar facial structure")
With Cloud Kingdom getting taken over and Euphrasia captured, I thought she would have more of a role to play in this since this is, you know, her HOME and she's their guardian.
But nope. She does next to nothing up until the very end and plays prisoner and waits for the ninja to save her.
For gosh sake girl, you're the master of wind. FLY.
And finally, my last critique, Cinder.
Yeah I'm sorry, I'm not buying this character so far. Not that I don't think he'll have anything to do in the second part, but for how threatening he was in Episode 2, that threat level kinda vanishes in the middle and only comes back at the end. He does next to nothing and we learn nothing about him other than "He likes power". Jordanna is probably more unlikeable, but at least she has conflict going on with Ras and her magic, and she still serves more of a role in the plan besides being a foot soldier.
And... yep. That's all my critiques for this season. Which all seem pretty minor.
You know what this season is real good at? Characters.
As though that wasn't obvious already.
I did NOT expect Bonzle to play any major role at all, I thought she was just gonna be the dry and cynical side character. But no. She has a history. She has a life. She has emotions. All of which REALLY shine through at the end when you hear her voice have more range in it. The VA killed it. I ended up feeling so bad for her.
Especially considering what happens to her.
They're also not even hiding it anymore with Geo x Cole. They're just NOT. I love them and I hope we see more of their relationship in the future.
I genuinely don't understand the critique of "Geo is so selfish referring to him as Cole's family when it's obvious Cole has other people in his life."
Well no shit, you ever heard of a character flaw?
But it's also a completely understandable flaw. You guys aren't forgetting the part where Geo was abandoned for being a mixed race, right? Of course he's gonna cling to someone as compassionate and encouraging as Cole.
The Jay cameo was nice. I expect him to play no role in this season, but it's really compelling what they showed and I was satisfied with it.
Lloyd's conflict was handled very well in my opinion.
What's it called when it's PTSD, but it's about future events rather than past events? Foresight Traumatic Stress Disorder? FTSD? Yeah let's go with that.
For a kids show that glosses over trauma, (That's not a Ninjago problem, that's a kids show problem), it was really refreshing for them to not do that for once. It's actually explored and talked about and Lloyd is given advice on how to cope with it, and he freezes up in panic attacks when these visions happen and-THANK YOU. THANK YOU FOR NOT IGNORING HOW HARD SOMETHING LIKE THIS IS.
Seriously, as someone who is going through stuff like this, minus the magic element, it spoke to me a lot. It really shows that this show grew up with me, and I both love and hate that.
I do think this sort of arc is going to hit hard for adults much more than kids.
Are kids constantly terrified of the future and getting paralyzed with these fears and finding it difficult to cope with the traumas that is time and human life?
No?
Kai is also a standout in this, especially towards the end. This is by far the best Kai has been in a long time in terms of quality. I love how one of his most significant flaws gets addressed here, that being his overreliance on himself and his own abilities over the others, who he feels responsible to protect.
And the way he grasps with that and learns to let loose like he did as a child back in the old days through what he loves the most, that being his family. And the flashbacks with him and his sister. And the whole sequence of him learning Rising Dragon - AUGH ITS SO GOOD.
How poetic is it that the character most devoted to family since childhood is only cocky and angry because of his own desire to be the one with power to keep them safe, gets power by letting that go, being a kid again, and joining the same roots as his own family?
AND THEN HE GIVES UP HIS LIFE FOR THEM-
And finally, Arin.
Oh you poor sweet, sweet child.
First of all, yes, I am completely subscribed to the theory that the show is building up Arin turning on the ninja and becoming a villain. It's all there. It all fits. The amount of times they say how sweet he is as though that's gonna get lost. The dragons, the creators of the world, the gods basically, telling him he's not good enough. Ras confronting him. Sora's stunt even after she's been the most encouraging of him, like the BETRAYAL there. It's all there. And I will be posting my theory scenario on this don't you worry.
BUT, I don't think that's the route they're gonna go. Kids show and all of that. They wouldn't do that to one of their main characters. Unless you're Star Wars. At most I think Arin will be tempted by Ras's master's power in an episode and even do it, but then with the power of love and friendship, it'll get fixed.
So instead I'd rather say that Arin, by far, has the BEST power crisis arc of the entire show so far.
I LOVE that he doesn't get powers. That's something the original show would've done. I LOVE that he doesn't figure anything out in the end and his inner doubts get proven correct. That's something the original show would not have the guts to do.
I liked Arin in the first season, but he didn't interest me too much. Mostly because Sora had the lion share of focus in the first season. Here though? He might just take the crown for THE most relatable character. And I both love and hate it so much.
Like, seeing everyone else succeed in mastery while you can't even figure out your own thing. You get told you have a natural talent and a lot of potential and that you're good at a lot of things, only for that to be put to the test in the real world and you end up letting everyone down. Even when your loved ones encourage you that you are good enough and you're special in your own way, you can't get those voices out of your head and you mess up again and again and again to try and meet the world's expectations. Then those in charge tell you you're not good enough and wasted potential. Then you try everything out in the real world anyway and you FAIL, and those that doubt you and your own insecurities get proven correct as you're left a broken mess of a young child who doesn't know what the hell they're doing-
I'M IN THIS SHOW AND I DON'T LIKE IT.
I probably love Sora more as a character, but I will admit I grasp towards Arin more right now. Sora's a great trans allegory in a world that hates trans people. But I'm not trans so I relate to it a bit less. Arin's a great autistic allegory in a world that doesn't know how to help autistic people. And I am autistic so I relate to it more. That's just a me situation.
I am so invested in where Arin's story goes from here. Evil or not.
So yeah, the season was good, but didn't completely live up to the insane hype, which, to be fair, is a high bar.
UNTIL THE LAST FOUR EPISODES.
And then all of a sudden, I AM SHOCKED AND SHAKEN TO MY CORE.
These last four episodes are an absolute emotional roller coaster that left me shaking and screaming the whole time.
I actually SCREAMED at multiple occasions.
I actually screamed so many times watching this that I am now HOARSE.
THAT'S how hard it hit me.
The story goes from 0 to 100 the moment the Blood Moon shows up. Which was what the whole season was building up to. And it did NOT disappoint.
The race to try and protect Bonzle. The intense visions and paralysis Lloyd suffers from. Ras and the army coming back to the plot to be absolute powerhouses. The last episode of DREAD the entire time to desperately try to stop this ritual.
HUMAN SACRIFICES?! AM I WATCHING A KIDS SHOW RIGHT NOW?!?!
I was begging for Arin to succeed at getting Bonzle to safety, even though I knew he stood no chance against Ras. "Come on Arin! You got this!! YOU GOT THIS, SWEETIE!!"
And then Ras just goes to TOWN on the poor boy and taunts his utter failure, which HURTS SO BAD MAN.
The entire fight with the army, Cinder, and Ras. The destruction of the mechs which knocks them unconscious for a bit. Kai figuring out Rising Dragon again when his family gets put in danger. The way Nya avenges her brother afterwards.
When Bonzle was getting morphed back into spell form, BEGGING, I was begging too.
But they still do it!
And KAI?!?!
I couldn't even process what happened other than me screaming. From the moment Ras alluded to sacrificing Kai against his consent, I was screaming "NO. DON'T DO IT."
AND THEN THEY SACRIFICE HIM.
LIKE HOLY GOSH THIS FINALE DID NOT MESS AROUND.
I predicted a while back, in the first season actually, that Kai was gonna get sacrificed at some point. Who's laughing now? I DID NOT WANT TO BE RIGHT.
Like, usually in Ninjago the character would be willing to sacrifice themselves for the others. But here? This is without Kai's consent at all. Ras might as well have killed him right here.
It definitely felt that way with the way the others react and BEG for his safety. The way Nya avenges him.
And Kai giving up his shot at escape for the sake of his family? BRO. WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
It hurts even more when you realize that when the Merge happened, Lloyd was ALONE thinking only he survived. He only gained hope again because of his reunion with Kai. His beloved surrogate brother!
AND NOW HE'S GONE.
NYA AND LLOYD LOST THEIR BROTHER.
WYLDFYRE LOST HER SURROGATE FATHER.
THEY THINK HE'S BASICALLY DEAD.
BRO. THAT'S SOUL CRUSHING.
And then Sora?! Why you gotta betray Arin like that?!
The most encouraging friend towards Arin, the person who held onto hope and praises for him the most, betrays that hope and doesn't trust him enough to get the winning blow himself. Then LIES about it.
GIRL. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!
That's going to be SO compelling once that gets outed. Like, morally, that was messed up and she was definitely in the wrong, BUT it led to the best possible outcome for them at the moment. They WON because she did NOT believe in Arin's abilities. Which only proves that the doubts about Arin's said abilities are correct.
And I have a gut feeling she's gonna learn Spinjitsu on top of that. And once that happens... double ouch.
Again, Evil Arin Theory.
I really hate to say it, but this reminds way too much of Arcane. If you know what I'm talking about.
I am totally imagining a situation similar to that in my head, that being a rescue mission for Kai, they decide to leave Arin out of it because of the lack of faith in him, he tags along anyway and he ruins their plan and Kai stays trapped there, Lloyd and Sora lash out on him for it, and before they can apologize they get thrusted back by something and Ras and Ras's master find Arin and take him in-
Again, I'll make a post about that.
The finale was by far the best part of this season. It has been a long time since Ninjago has made me HOARSE from being too invested.
That has not happened to me since Sons of Garmadon.
Because, yeah, I actually have NO IDEA where any of this is headed. How are they gonna save Kai and Bonzle? Why did some of Lloyd's visions not come true? What in the world is going on with Ras? Will the Administration help with that? Will the source dragons help with that?
What I probably do know is that Part 2 of this season is going to turn this into the best Ninjago Product since Tournament of Elements. Maybe even top it depending on my rewatches if my problems are still problems.
So... yeah. Good or Nah? Good. Obviously.
The hype is a little overblown to me, but it still deserves the hype.
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alcazarofthestars · 2 days
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More brainrots<3
I KNOW THAT I'VE BEEN INACTIVE FOR LIKE A WEEK BUT HEAR ME OUT:
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THIS
THIS BEAUTIFUL MAN
SO I GOT THIS IDEA WHEN I WAS WALKING BACK FROM SCHOOL
SO IMAGINE:
Casper with an angel reader in an enemies to lovers situation where the reader's job is to help people in near death scenarios so they would fight/bicker a LOT but this bickering slowly turns into flirting and then they started dating BUT heaven doesn't allow this so the higher angels try to separate you two by locking you away in a tower in heaven where no one can reach you. Heartbroken, he went on a rampage and burst into heaven to search for you and went on to kill quite a lot of angels before being sealed away for a thousand years or so. When the reader wakes up she doesn't remember anything besides her job. When Casper broke free the first thing he saw was you with another man.
OR
A reader who's the angel of death and collects the souls of people who belong in heaven while he collects souls of people who belong in hell. Usually they shouldn't collide but every once in a blue moon there will be someone who has an equal amount of sins and good deeds. This led them to get to know each other better and even develop feelings for each other but the reader knows that they just can't be because of their jobs and tried to distance themselves from him but ended up failing. Your heart just can't take it! But one day you overheard some gossips from the elder angels that they knew about your relationship and were planning on "taking him out" so he wouldn't interfere with your job. When they were about to do it, the reader put themselves in front of him and ended up getting reincarnated as a human with no memories. Casper found out about this and started stalking you. You still had the same personality and charisma, it's almost as if nothing happened. He took on a more human form and started to talk to you and make you trust him, after a while he found out that you were already in a relationship with someone else... This can't be right. You promised to be with HIM. You are HIS partner. No no, you're just not in your right mind, yes, that's it. Don't worry, he'll knock you back to your senses<3.
OR
MAYBE A SOULMATE SITUATION WITH HIM WHERE HE'S AN IMMORTAL AND YOU'RE A MORTAL WHO IS CURSED TO DIE SOON
Idk if someone made this before tho
Maybe I'll continue this Brainrot sometime... But my motivation is at an all time low rn...
so have this badly written Brainrot to wait
-With love, Lythia <3
P.S. feel free to write a fic with this plot(s) but PLEASE credit me
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frownyalfred · 2 days
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How do you do your writing? Start writing the story and figure out world building aspects after? Or deep dive into world building than write the story? Personally I write the story then take breaks to write down world building as it comes
Was curious, cause your abo au is very thought out with world building
I think it definitely comes easier with the a/b/o AU since there's a lot of pre-established options within the trope, so I'm usually just mixing and matching the ones I like most, or subverting the ones I don't.
My biggest goal when worldbuilding is to avoid the "this is the world I live in and here are the rules" monologue that sometimes pops up in published novels. I only want stuff to come up that's actually being discussed and thought about by the characters in the scene -- and unless it's being used as a device, they're not usually narrating the rules of the world they live in to themselves at any point. (Again, it depends on the book and if it's being used as a literary device)
So Bruce, in a given scene, wouldn't necessarily be thinking about the fact that omegas use scent blockers to conceal their scents, and wouldn't be thinking about how that works (such as application preference, etc) but he would, theoretically, be thinking about how the new scent blocker he just bought isn't working right, and that he might need to use more than normal. So we get some slightly more subtle worldbuilding within the vein of the scene.
People go back and forth on the "show don't tell" advice in writing, and I know it's contentious. But I'm a proponent of showing worldbuilding whenever possible, instead of outright telling. Whenever I find myself writing a thought/piece of dialogue that seems like it would benefit the reader more than the characters, I take a second to check if I'm telling instead of showing.
Sometimes that means not explaining something until it pops up in the story. An example of this would be in my Mandalorian/Star Wars batfamily AU, where we really don't learn a lot about the batkids' positions or the hierarchy of the Wayne compound until Clark has a chance to talk with various family members and learn.
I think there is definitely an instinct to overexplain off the bat, and it's not always wrong. But if our first scene with Bruce was spent with him thinking over the hierarchy of his own compound, that wouldn't make a lot of sense -- he already knows what it is. He's got other things to focus on in that scene.
If it's helpful, I also put together lists sometimes of worldbuilding ideas that don't necessarily make it into the work itself, but help add context while I'm writing. I did this a lot with Borderline, when I was trying to write the Court/LoA into the fic. A lot of those details didn't make it in for the reader to see, but they affected what I wrote.
That's just my take on it, and like I said, there's a lot of conflicting ideas about this. And exceptions, of course.
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spotsandsocks · 4 hours
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Tease Tidbit Tuesday 💜🖤🩶🤍
Tagged by @tizniz with the cutest buddietommy fic and @diazsdimples with an amazing gif set. This is from next chapt of
How can we dance when I silenced the song
Eddie is starting to think about things… and working himself out
(I think this makes sense? Lmk if it doesn’t (but gently ☺️) Eddie’s pov)
He can however see it’s not entirely his fault, mostly because the world puts ideas in your head before you can even talk, because you see the world the way it was made to look, probably somewhere around 1950, no before that even, long before that, and then you just assume you're the same as everyone else. Except everyone else isn’t like everyone else either, except all the beautiful differences are hiding in places you can’t see yet and the words you need aren’t in the dictionary or at least if they are no ones telling you about it.
How can you know you don’t know about something if you don't know it exists in the first place. Which is a shame especially if what you don’t know exists is you.
Tagging @elvensorceress @loserdiaz @underwaterninja13 @shipperqueen6 @rogerzsteven
@bi-buckrights @daffi-990 @monsterrae1 @hoodie-buck @wikiangela
@hippolotamus @shortsighted-owl @the-likesofus @stagefoureddiediaz @thekristen999
@bidisasterevankinard @exhuastedpigeon @ronordmann @spaceprincessem @weewootruck
@eddiebabygirldiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @rainbow-nerdss @lover-of-mine @watchyourbuck
@loveyouanyway @saybiwithme @honestlydarkprincess @thewolvesof1998 @wildlife4life
@thewolvesof1998 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @pirrusstuff
And anyone else out there
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demonslayedher · 9 hours
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What if nezuko and tanjiro were raised by Obanai and Mitsuri?
Whoa, I have never considered this. Let's assume an altered timeline, so, say, itty-bitty Tanjiro hid with almost-walking Nezuko in a closet when a demon killed their parents. Mitsuri and Obanai, who like one another and have sort of figured that out by they are awkward about where to take it from there (since Mitsuri doesn't want to make the first move but can't figure out why Obanai won't), arrive on the scene, and Kaburamaru finds the hiding children.
Mitsuri is instantly attached and wants very badly to make it up to these orphaned children whom she failed. Obanai is trying to tell her why that idea is irresponsible, but Kaburamaru has already become fiercely attached to the terrified children who find comfort in the cuddly snake. It's not as if Obanai can't relate to that, so he gives in, on the caveat that they will take care of them only until they can hand them off to someone more qualified.
They're first thought is Shinobu, but she already has her hands full. They ask the Kakushi, but the Kakushi insist that this is out of their skill set. They think of asking Ubuyashiki but don't want to bother him by setting a precedent. No luck at Wisteria Houses they come across, who are already doing all they can. Wishing to find someone with experience to adopt them, Obanai makes a desperate visit to Shinjuro, who yells at him to take responsibility and get what was coming to him by so idealistically becoming a swordsman. He announces to Mitsuri (who is already very attached) that they'll see their responsibility through.
Since the Kamado children stay at the Kanroji estate most of the time, this is what gets Obanai to finally meet her family, which pressures them more into considering the state of their relationship, especially they Obanai spends time with the children out of a sense of responsibility and Mitsuri, once the decision to keep them was made, wants to spend as much free time with them as possible. Being in a coparent relationship also forces them to confront Obanai's issues.
Both toddlers take to Mitsuri readily, and they like Obanai too, but they both (especially Tanjiro, who can talk better) are sensitive to him being sad. Obanai is nice and tries to be child-appropriate but answers very plainly and honestly when Tanjiro asks why he's sad, thinking that this is out of respect for a child's intellect. Poor Tanjiro wants to help but is often confused. Obanai is a little annoyed how buddy-buddy Tanjiro and Kaburamaru are but he allows it. As Tanjiro grows up and the snake gets older, Kaburamaru spends less and less time in battle with Obanai. Tanjiro is a dutiful son whom Obanai figures pucked up a lot of traits from being raised by Mitsuri, but he reminds Tanjiro to always be grateful to his original family who loved and protected him too. This makes him supportive (albeit concerned for his safety) when Tanjiro says he wants to fight demons too. Tanjiro eventually picks up Snake Breathing, though Obanai points out that he's not totally suited for it. (If it weren't for how annoying he finds Giyuu, he would suggest Tanjiro try Water Breathing.)
Mitsuri is less supportive because she worries about Tanjiro's safety. He is her wonderful son whom she loves very much, after all. But if he's sure he can accept the risks, she allows him to try.
Nezuko has grown up babied by her unckes and aunts and does not know the responsibility of being an older sister. She always wants to be just like her mom (but Obanai sternly put a stop her dressing up like mom, which made little Nezuko cry because she didn't understand why he was angry). She wears fancy kimono and makes sweets and wears long braids and goes to school, and is a dutiful and sweet daughter as she grows up. Despite having riches, this does seem to go to her head, and she still practices humilty and thrift, which really endears her to Obanai. He originally was a bit more standoffish from Nezuko, but Nezuko feels secure in his care for her even if it's nothing like the open, loving, huggy relationship she has with her adoptive mother. When Tanjiro picks up the sword, she insists on learning too, but Tanjiro and Mitsuri don't want this. Obanai lets her give it a shot, but she's too fiery for Snake Breath, and not physically capable of Love Breath, despite how much she has always done her best to imitate mom.
So Nezuko finally does something a spoiled brat would do and she runs away to ask Uncle Kyojuro for Flame Breath training. This causes a brief argument between Hashira but it is soon settled, and Tanjiro sort of wishes he had thought of that before getting so deep into making Snake Breath work for him. Tanjiro & Kaburamaru and Nezuko eventually go through the Final Selection together and begin a sibling journey to avenge their birth parents, with their adoptive parents giving them their blessing and watching over them from afar.
And then, having seem that through, Obanai is finally ready to get married.
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kimmiessimmies · 10 hours
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📩 Simblr question of the day: Do you have a process for making your simblr posts?
answer in whatever way is most comfortable for you and feel free to share this SQOTD around, make sure to use the hashtag SQOTD and tag me in separate posts ~ 💛
This question was contributed by an anon in @simblr-question-of-the-day !
Thank you SQOTD Anon or forwarding Anon for this question!
I have an extensive process for my story posts.
Timeline. The whole story is set out in a timeline. This is an Excel document outlining what is happening when. The timeline is very much a living document in the sense that I change it constantly. Things happen as I go that spark new ideas, and then new chapters are added to the timeline. But there's an outline, I know where I'm going. 😊
Writing. My story (and the timeline) is divided into chapters. First, I write a chapter. Very much like a book. I write all the dialogues, all the narrative and I make notes about things I want to add in image later.
Pose selection / scripting. I take my written chapter and go through it scene by scene pre-selecting poses from my database (a folder system) I think will fit what I want to tell/show in this scene.
Setting up. Downloading things I need for a scene, setting up the location, dressing Sims, getting everyone where they need to be.
Shooting. I shoot my chapter scene by scene. Pose, shoot, pose, shoot. It takes a while...
Adapting. While I shoot, I adapt my chapter. I change things depending on the shot I could get. Sometimes something unexpected happens in a shoot which prompts me to rewrite a large chunk of my chapter. I don't mind that, I like when the unexpected influences the story.
Select and edit. I go through my pictures and select and edit the ones I plan to use. Most edits are minor, just adapt light and frame the shot. But sometimes I need to do some drawing to make up for clipping. Most of my shots never make it into the story. 😄
Combine text and image. I go to WordPress first and put the chapter together; image, text, image, text, etc. I don't publish yet.
Simblr. Finally, it's Simblr time. I cut up the WordPress post, deciding which points are good places to do this, add tags etc and queue it all.
Coming Up. I put up my "Coming Up on A Taste of Honey" post a day before my chapter starts running.
And we're off! When I have a running chapter, my first story post of the day always goes live at 13:00 / 1pm (GMT +1) and then every half hour. Usually three posts a day, sometimes two, sometimes four. Depending on the flow.
For all non-story posts I don't really have a system. I try to plan replies to asks, taggames and random character posts in the same time-rhythm as the story posts, but sometimes it's more random.
Thanks for asking! Sorry for the essay, I hope it was at least somewhat interesting. I'm curious to see other answers to this question. 😊
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vsaintsin · 2 days
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Writeblr Re-Intro
Yo! I'm V Saintsin. Or V or Vin or Saintsin or whatever you want to call me that sounds right on your tongue. I'm a self-proclaimed Social Media fumbler who got a late start to the party and has never quite figured it out. I hate how hipster and edgy it sounds to say "I'm bad at social media" but like I used to work with some people who actually managed the social media accounts for the business we worked for and there were rules and whatnot and damn, I think online media is just not my medium. That being said, here I am! Hah
I'm an author and general mess who's hoping to be the miracle man (somebody who makes a living writing silly little stories). I do use a pseudonym but please hear me out when I say I didn't realize how edgy it sounds, it just has some sentimental value to my personal life. I'm so sorry that I sound like I'm in my emo phase HAHA
About me -
He/Him Transguy from the American Midwest (arguably the south, depending on who you talk to, but the older people still say "Sodi-pop" and "ope").
I'm dysautonomic, bendy, permanently sleepy, and a survivor of Crappy Doctors Who Suck At Doctoring.
I like DnD, Pathfinder, Baldur's Gate 3, Cyberpunk, Dragon Age, and other things in that vein.
I do make art of my stories and characters (Tablet is currently not working so I'm in a dry spell).
My writing background is predominantly ancient, dusty RPs from as far back as the foopets days and fanfic writing on Quizilla - I am an old and wizened elder of the net.
My formal education was music performance and behavioral neuroscience, I don't really know how I got where I am.
This is not my first rodeo with tumblr but it is the first time I have anything to SAY instead of just lurking.
In the event of malfunction, you can put me outside for 5 minutes and I'll probably factory reset.
My existence as I know it hinges on a massive number of sticky notes plastered throughout my room.
What I'm lookin' for -
Idk, whatever? I'm down for most things. Did you write it? Cool, let me see. I'm not too bent on genre or anything, just fascinated by the art of storytelling.
A bit tentative with fanfiction but that's just because if it's not a fandom I'm familiar with I am rather clueless about what the hell is going on and if it's a fandom I am familiar with I HUNT DOWN THE DEEP LORE.
I like art a whole lot, including fanart. Also art advice, love seeing things from different perspectives and learning something new.
Mutuals, really, for any reason. Building better connections on here, getting to know people. I am hideously bad at this but I try.
What I write -
Science Fiction with heavy subjects that matter to me - trigger warnings on a story-by-story basis.
High Fantasy (eventually books I think?) characters and their backgrounds for DnD and Pathfinder - I have been tempted to share these to help people get ideas or just for free use?
Things that I delete because I have crippling imposter syndrome and publishing makes me nauseous (doin' it tho).
Stories that I hope will make people feel less alone or that people could relate to, stories that I wish I had when life was worse and I was reaching out for anything I could find to keep me afloat, stories that try to be critical of things that SUCK in a way that's any helpful.
Lots of curse words and cussing (that's just how people talk 'round here), dubious science, things that I hope might make you cry but in a good way though.
Character-Driven stories that revolve more around the development of the person and less around the plot itself if that makes sense.
I've put blurb things below for my primary project/series which features a grumpy, queer, 37-year old chain smoking Frenchman and his misadventures with life and love and unbridled rage. If any of that sounds cool stick around and hang out? (This part is a plug bc I did a thing and I'm proud of it) And if my books sounds interesting the first one is 99 cents on Kindle and you just need a phone and a free app to read it!
THE SECRET OF LIFE (Published) - Sci-Fi/Psychological Thriller, Bi M Lead, Lovers to Enemies, AI but the oldschool cool kind not the real world thing that's stealing our future
Carlisle-Trystan Antoinette is a mercenary on a hard road, navigating life and death itself in an infinite cycle started by powers above his understanding. He has one mission - warn The Dianican Space Station of the coming threat and put a stop to a war that would encapsulate the whole of the Sol System before it can ever begin. Unfortunately for Carlisle, reality is a tenuous thing, made up only by our understanding of it. At least, according to his Psychiatrist, who tells him that there is no war, that he was never a mercenary, and that what Carlisle is experiencing is a severe but manageable psychotic break. Stripped of his combat enhancements, his bio monitor, and everything he's every known, Carlisle has a decision to make. Does he give in to the thoughts and memories, so real that he can almost taste them, or does he live a life of comfort and ease, returning to a husband and daughter that he left behind?
TWs: Domestic and War Violence, suicide, rape, medical trauma, grief, drug use
THE SILENCE OF ANGELS (Due July '24, TSoL 2) - Betrayal and Rage, Learning how to love again slow-burn romantic subplot, Learning how to Dad, A general inability for any one thing to just go right
(Quick Rough Blurb that offers no spoilers for TSoL) Making connections isn't easy for somebody who's accustomed to burning bridges. Isolation has always been Carlisle's mantra for surviving his life. Playing a role comes second nature, pretending to be the man that everyone else wants to see in him. When an old friend is murdered Carlisle finds himself as the primary suspect with all evidence pointing to him so clearly that even he calls to question what he is capable of. Unwilling to believe that he could commit such a heinous crime, Carlisle sets off to find the truth of his friend's death - was Carlisle framed or does he truly have the capacity to bring such harm upon those he loves? Old and new bonds will be tested, faith broken, and the future of everyone called into question as lines are drawn and sides are picked.
TWs: Violence, mentions of SA, graphic character death, more grief, more death
I don't know what else to say... Later!
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meridiansdominoes · 2 days
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Hi! I've read Dominoes and Espirit D'Corps (probably butchered that, but it's French, so) like. At least a dozen times each. I love both so much. I always cry at the part where Kyber and Hevy meet--its just. It's so good!!!
Can I ask how you came up with the plot? If you want, feel free to rant about your creative process, I'd really like to know how your brain works
Hi! I'm so so glad you've been enjoying them! Thank you so much!
Oh my, about how I came up with the plot, haha... hm. Well, for Dominoes, it was back when I was in high school and clone wars was in full swing, so I was reading a TON of fanfiction. I had noticed that there were tons and tons of fanfiction where Jedi are thrown back in time or given a chance to try and fix the timeline, and many of them were very good! But there were very few that dealt with clones in that situation back then. I noticed this because of my clone obsession, haha, I really wanted one, but I couldn't find anything to satisfy me. As I thought about it more, I realized it could be really interesting to see how non Force-sensitive characters would deal with such a situation, especially ones that don't have nearly as much authority as a Jedi. Figuring out that dynamic was fascinating for me, and so rough drafts of the first chapter began! In the beginning I didn't even have a reason for how or why they time traveled, either. I just wanted it to happen, so I wrote it! It's been fun putting things together to make the plot more coherent now. Of course, this was before we got news that season 7 would be released, so I had no idea we would get more Echo content, thus his involvement with the bad batch and survival past the techno union nonsense isn't included, but it's still been fun!
For Esprit de Corps... I remember it was new year's eve several years ago and I was having some serious writer's block with Dominoes, so I decided to pull up a blank document. I had just watched the Force Awakened again and was mourning the lack of Finn character development, and started to brainstorm how his interactions with the clones would have gone. That led me to remember the term 'esprit de corps', which basically refers to a sense of kinship or loyalty felt between members of a group... and then 'esprit' looks a lot like 'espiritu', which is spirit in Spanish... so then I thought it would be really fun if ghost clones were helping Finn throughout his adventure. It really evolved from there!
Thanks for the ask haha! It was fun to remember how these fics began! Keep an eye out for updates in the near future ;)
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peccaberry · 2 days
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Pecca i want you to know that your interpretation of Volo as an angsty teenager is groundbreaking. His course of action in pla makes so much more sense when you read him as, like, 16 having his first religious crisis
THANK YOU FOR UNDERSTANDING ME 😭
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I feel like a really easy thing to forget is that we don't actually know how long the events of PLA go on for
We tend to think of Pokemon characters as locked in on one age I think instead of being actual people who live and grow. I've never really liked that bc it kinda feels unnatural to me. I wanna see these characters live their lives and not be trapped in a timeless bubble of "the narrative".
It's pretty ambiguous how long exactly you're out surveying and given the day/night cycle I don't think it would be ridiculous to say you could be at it for a year in game time before you actually fight Volo depending on if you take your time trying to complete the Pokedex or not.
So to me I think Volo was a 17ish year old teenager who got too lost in the sauce and as he got older his plans got bigger and his Pokemon got stronger and eventually he felt ready to take you and the world on.
I think the idea of a post-pla Volo is so fascinating to me because I want to be able to explore the impact of how something like that would affect such a young guy. He's not like Cyrus who was canonically 27 with his own established organization to help him, he was a younger guy with a dream that he could make the world better that had his own delusions of grandeur crushed at their highest point. The only people he had to fall back on were his Pokemon.
Idk I'm pro Volo learning and maturing somewhat in the years after that. I'm not saying he immediately realizes the error of his ways or anything, especially with his attitude, but I want to believe he could find peace eventually because at some point we all have to or die trying, you know?
Using context clues about how he feels the world is a bad place (and even if we wanna reach into Pokemas and analyze "use people before they use you") he's probably not had very good relationships with the world around him.
I feel like a lot of teenagers especially can relate to feeling like the world is suddenly a lot worse of a place than they thought it was. It's scary and frustrating and relationships with your peers get a lot more complicated. Wanting to put an end to it isn't an uncommon feeling, most of us just aren't given access to powerful Pokemon and the ability to fight god irl at that age.
But that's why the Pokemon world is better 🙏
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phantom088 · 3 days
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Just a light hearted rant
In other words, things in Danny Phantom that make absolutely no sense.
First off is the on button to the portal being on the inside the portal.
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Who's idea was that?Jack, Maddie, I'm looking at you.
Like seriously, Jack and Maddie gave up because the portal didn't work when they plugged it in. In reality they just didn't hit the on button, which was inside the damn portal! How does that even work?
In order to turn that thing on, someone would have to sacrifice their life to push the button...and would you look at that, Danny walked right into that and now he's half dead. Skill issue I guess, but still.
At least it seems Jack and Maddie fixed the issue as in later episodes its shown that there's a on and off button on the outside of the portal, either that or they built 2 sets of buttons in the first place which then makes me wonder why they didn't hit the on button they had on the outside when they plugged the portal in.
The next thing is questioning how Danny got the thermos working.
Yeah, it seems like he transferred some ghostly energy into it as pictured here:
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But the show doesn't actually conform that or tell us how Danny got the thermos working. He basically asked the thermos to work and it went "No worries fam, I got you." And it worked.
No explanation, just a "it works now...yay!" Kind of vibe.
My third thing skips quite a few episodes, even a full season and that is the existence of Danielle or Dani.
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Here are the questions that come to mind.
How is Dani a female when she is supposed to be a clone of a male? Yes I've heard the trans theory, or maybe to make her stable Vlad had to mess with the XY chromosomes, or even Vlad added some female DNA into her for some reason (probably to make her stable). But non of those ideas completely follow up.
Why is she 12? In cloning cases, the clone doesn't end up a set age, when someone is cloned, their clone starts as a fetus/baby. It should have taken Dani 12 years to you know, become a 12 year old kid. So unless Vlad decided to start cloning Danny when he was 2, I don't see why Dani is 12.
How is she even stable in the first place? Yes, the other clones Vlad made weren't very stable, but it still makes no sense that Dani is stable because cloning is a very delicate process. Usually a clone of someone doesn't end up healthy like Dani, there always has to be some birth defect, and in real life most clones don't even live that long, and that's 2024 talking. Mind you, Danny Phantom was made in the early 2000s, cloning technology probably wasn't as advance then, meaning Dani isn't even supposed to be alive.
Fourth and final thing, and that's the asteroid.
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Just the fact that the asteroid is made of a material called ecto-ranium says it all. This material was never mentioned before Phantom Planet, meaning it was made up on the spot, rushed per-se just like how the final episode was rushed!
Even worse is the fact Vlad managed to send the fucking thing hurtling at earth, and the best idea that wveryone could come up with was send two middle aged man to space in a rocket ship, one being half ghost and the other being a inconfidant ghost hunter, both dumped on bad terms, and hoping for the best.
Who would have saw Vlad not being able to make the asteroid intangible coming? Who would have thought his plan failed, and Jack ended up leaving him out in space. What a shocker.
Then instead of building a laser or something that would destroy the asteroid everyone decided to put their trust on a teenage ghost to fix everything. Sure he was successful, making it so the asteroid could phase through the whole ass planet even though it's made of a material ghosts can't manipulate (meaning it should be obvious a ghost can't phase through the asteroid or get objects such as a whole planet to phase through it as well but to each your own).
Let's just hope the moon or sun or any other planet weren't in it's path when it passed through earth.
And don't even get me started on the crappy relationship we all know Danny and Sam are gonna have. It was rushed, and frankly knowing Sam is someone who wants things to go her way, and Danny is someone who's too stubborn to follow that, the relationship isn't going to last.
Also, why were Sam and Tucker being such assholes to Danny through the whole episode until he restored his powers. Like bro, he got rid of his powers to specifically protect you two, why be asses to him?
And that ends my rant lol.
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