#they also provide trigger warnings for every episode they do and are really good at media analysis

[fandomanimatic-tournament]

Fandom song animatic tournament: Bracket 2 Side B

Love Like You - Steven Universe

"I always thought I might be bad Now I'm sure that it's true 'Cause I think you're so good And I'm nothing like you Look at you go I just adore you I wish that I knew What makes you think I'm so special"

Escapism - Steven Universe

"I guess I have to face That in this awful place I shouldn't show a trace of doubt But pulled against the grain I feel a little pain That I would rather do without I'd rather be Free, free, free"

Remember that we're voting on how Iconic they are for ANIMATICS, not for the song itself. In order to make things fair, the tone and mood of the song should not affect how iconic it is (for example, a serious song should not be considered more iconic than a joke song just because it's serious)

Propaganda and animatic links of the songs under the cut:

Love Like You - Steven Universe

Propaganda:

love like you is the foundation animatics were built on tbh steven universe is like the father of like every lgbt artist it’s too classic not to win. it’s also genuinely a good song the simplicity of only piano, voice, and drums does it so well and it really wrenches your heart out your goddamn chest and bites into it like an onion

Animatics with the song:

Genshin Impact

Good Omens

Heaven Official's Blessing Hualian

DSMP

Adventure Time

Escapism - Steven Universe

Propaganda:

Vague enough to be applicable to a ton of characters, but bittersweet and simple and somewhat resigned? My feelings (The vagueness of the song combined with its cover version being released ages before the episode came out led to a TON of speculation as to who might be singing the song, and all of the guesses were good ones)

Animatics with the song:

Hollow Knight

She-Ra

Steven Universe

QSMP Juanaflippa

Steven Universe Pink Diamond

Please be cautious and read the title, description and warning cards on the animatic videos if you decide to watch them. If you've got specific triggers I'd recommend even more caution when watching animatics of fandoms you don't know, since sometimes canon-typical themes don't get warnings.

Please keep in mind that I don't know all the media and fandoms of the animatics provided as examples and I don't have the time (nor the will) to research them all. Don't come into my notes or my ask box complaining about them being included, I will simply block you. If a ship animatic included is about an adult and a minor, do tell me and I'll take it out of the post

ALSO keep in mind that I don't know all the artists submitted; in fact, even if I do know them I do not know absolutely nothing about them as people (I do not have twitter nor tiktok) and I could not POSSIBLY have the time to research ALL of the artists' controversies and what came of them so PLEASE don't flood my inbox with the artists' entire crime list.

#fandom animatic tournament #tumblr poll #tumblr tournament #tumblr tourney

[grimwood-notice-board]

WHEN TROLLS ATTACK! WHEN AUTHORS STRIKE BACK!

By Eldon Macwood

TRIGGER WARNING: For those who know me, I am your Trigger Warning. Some have accused me of being an Edgelord, which sounds like a porn name if you ask me, but compared to actual Edgelords, I'm very disappointing. As my views are my views, period. I'm not here to be edgy, I'm just me, warts and all. But please, don't add warts to me, I have enough of my own. I also don't bend the knee to any political party, I hate them all. They make us fight, instead of using our brains. I am a lover of equality, and I will take whichever side that seems to be in the most right. I also cuss like a motherfucker, not sorry. There will be a disclaimer at the end, because welcome to the Internet. Reader discretion is advised.

Remember, no bitching, I did warn you, I am your trigger warning. I don't provide pacifiers, or Desitin. I'm not responsible for your offenses as you were warned ahead of time. I really shouldn't have to bring this back up again, don't make me. Also, everyone has the right to speak up on their views, whether you’re viewed as a troll or not, you have that right. As do I. Still here? I shall assume you’re not easily triggered, and will read the whole post in proper context. Thank you for sticking around!

On today's episode of the, The Easily Triggered (not an actual series, but would make a cool one), the author, Matt Fucking Shaw, did the unspeakable!!!! The worst fucking thing an author can do!!!! In today's dark, dark, dark world, Matt Shaw went waaaaaay over the rails, man. Are you ready? Here goes, he defended himself against a patronizing troll. YUP. How fucking dare he!!!!!!!!!! THAT'S NOT ALLOWED!!!! HE WAS SUPPOSED TO TAKE IT UP THE ASS RAWDOG!!!!!!!!

Okay, my mock triggering aside, here's what happened:

(This is my subjective take, as she has her’s) Following this patronizing, ignorant "review" (the video is linked, I won't cancel her) of Matt Shaw's book, Roll the Dice, Matt responded by writing a dedication to her in his book, Moist Gusset.

So, here are some things to dive into: Hailey Hughes, in her very sassy, patronizing tone didn't just make assumptions about the author based on the book, she said that a white author shouldn't use the N word in a story.

Why this is ignorant:

As long as it's in context with the character, and not glorified by the author, this isn't a problem. Got news for ya, racist people exist. I have written about them, and killed them off in very nasty ways in stories. I'm a mostly white (most Wokies I know don’t give a shit I’m mixed, like DnD, they ignore mixed races) cisgender male author, AND I'm a pansexual. I also defend the LGBTQAI+, and yet, I have no problems with Shaw, as she claims that authors like Shaw, don't care about people like me. Yeeaaahhh, okay. Matt Shaw has no issues with me, probably because I have never attacked him, just sayin'. PLaying White Savior, and/or Story Police isn't a good look, ya know?

It doesn't matter what skin color you are, as long as the story is in proper context, yes, slurs can be said by the characters. This doesn't make it racist of the author. Please, try using your brain sometime. Same goes for writing outside of your gender, your sexuality, your race, etc. An author writes stories that have some realism in them along with a fuck ton of made up shit. It's fine to not like those stories, it's not fine attacking the author, and making them sound like something they are not. Dear Wokies, please understand this. (Disclaimer: not all Wokies are bad, this is just a common thing among the Wokie peoples)

She has also accused Shaw of not being able to write women. Look, I saw this same thing said about a cisgender woman author I really like, by another woman. Guess what??? Not all women think, and speak the same, SHOCKING!!!!! I'm not saying that male authors haven't fucked up when it comes to writing women, but Hailey, or any other woman isn't the judge and jury on how every woman in the world thinks and speaks. SORRY, doesn't work that way. Stop being a gatekeeper, it's not cute. It's fine to talk about what you don't like, but please, be classy about it. Don't attack.

Now, the book that really got everyone's undies in a wad is, Moist Gusset, and not just because the word, "moist" is in the title. Which surprised me, since the word is very triggering. Matt wrote a jab in the dedication to her. While I wouldn't have done that, it was nothing to sneeze at. Well, she comes back saying that he wrote about her in a book about torture porn. He didn't. The book wasn't about her (sorry your highness, only the dedication was about you, not everything in the world, I know, sad, panda ears), and it wasn't torture porn. She also admitted to not reading the book before she went off. Also, Matt misspelled her name on purpose in the dedication. I guess this review merited not reading a book before reviewing, in her eyes. Yeah, makes perfect sense. Maybe next time, read the damn book before reviewing it. Just a suggestion.

It was at this point many in the author/writing community lost their shit, and went on the warpath against Matt Shaw.

A lot of the hate made fun of him for being a fragile white cisgender man, because, yeah, lets act like the bigoted cunts we oppose! Makes perfect fucking sense! Goddamn hypocrites!

To add to this, many of her fans have also attacked Shaw and his fans because of this matter.

Okay, so while you can tell where I stand on this matter, in another video, Hailey made some good points. When it comes to things like, discrimination, it doesn't get talked about enough. Yes, there has been some terrible people who are authors who need to go. Absolutely. But the reason why many in the extreme horror community speak out when you trash talk them, is because it happens a lot. By people waving Woke superiority in their faces.

The extreme horror sub-genre is like any other genre, characters exist with many different views. Guess what? Not every character is supposed to be glorified, especially if they are racist. And most of the time, when anyone gets worked up over a white author writing about a character using a slur, almost always is it in context to that character, not to the author's character.

This shit is gatekeeping. You're playing Story Police. You're crying wolf when there isn't one. This doesn't help to protect anyone. If anything, it hurts your cause. It makes you look like you can properly discern when there is an actual problem. And while she throws out her credentials as a trauma therapist, so what? Jordan Peterson who's a complete transphobe was a therapist as well. Your point?It clearly didn't make him see reality any clearer now did it? The experience may help to a point, but people can still be shitty regardless of it.

Look, we all have books we hate. Perhaps some authors. There are in fact terrible people who write stories that are cringe city. But lumping innocent authors into the bad ones, isn't the way to go.

Hailey had her say, I am having mine.

Now, as an author, and someone who has been publicly attacked before by Wokies playing the White Savior role, I would have done something very different. First off, no specific dedications to reviewers, especially the bad ones. Yes, Hailey is known for her trollish reviews, but still, it counts as a review. At least on the book she claims to have actually read. I don't count her review of the book she didn't read.

What I would do is monetize my haters. Wanna talk shit about me, and make assumptions based on my stories? I will now use those words to advertise my books. You will actually help me. When people ask me how I cope with the hate, I will take a Loki attitude about it. Yes, it's very sad, anyway...

Because why would I ever take the words of an arrogant troll serious? Are you kidding me? You get your world wrecked over a fucking book, and you do so in the wrong context.

Okay, for now, this is all I have to say on the matter. What I won't do, is go around picking fights on social media. I had my say on my platform. You do you.

Peace.

Disclaimer: This is the subjective opinion of grimdark author, Eldon Macwood. A white-Cherokee-Crow cisgender male who makes snow blush with his bright af skin. He's also pansexual, so he's not all bad. The problem isn't with the sensitive topics, but rather, the crying wolf mentality, and inability to differentiate between real wolves, and imagined wolves. When an actual wolf is present, we should indeed, ring the fucking bell. However, to those who make shit up, nobody wants to believe a liar. But I'm just a fragile man, according to many Matt Shaw haters out there who disregard anything guys have to say, and conveniently ignore the cisgender and trans women who stand with him. In my evil, white male mind, I can't see why this has to be a gender thing. But the Wokies sure think it is. Oh well. Ignore me. I'm a man. I'm mostly white. I'm soooooo bad. Yup. Uh huh.

#authors #Matt Shaw #Extreme Horror #Reviews #Woke

[hous-e-metophobia]

A Guide to the Guide

Warning: This post and blog contain references to vomiting.

This is in order to provide a screening of House MD for viewers with a phobia of vomit. Not graphic.

(this post is also long)

First of, this blog will contain references to vomit and vomiting. They are not graphic and are for the purpose of avoiding it within the show. If you are uncomfortable even reading about that, I do not recommend this blog, and unfortunately, I do not recommend the show to you either.

Personally, a medical show seemed daunting given my phobia but upsetting moments are fairly easy to avoid, in my opinion, if you are prepared. I really enjoyed the show, and I recommend watching it if it seems like something you'd like. This blog is to make it easier to watch or rewatch it.

This blog is also primarily for my own use and reference, but I figured I'd might as well share it. If you don't need it, just ignore it. If you do, this post contains information about how the blog works, but it is not necessary to read the whole thing. If you have questions, however, they very likely are somewhere here.

Disclaimers

Due to the nature of this, there will be very minor episode spoilers. I do not think this will take away from watching the show.

I will be providing timestamps as best as I can. However, as I am emetophobic myself, I do not watch the scenes I know contain vomiting. Typically I will record a time stamp after an instance has occurred. In most cases, it is safe to assume that 30 to 60 seconds before that is a good time to mute and look away.

Please note that posts will warn only about instances that specifically involve vomiting and adjacent scenes. It does not account for gore-y or grotesque scenes that may induce squeamishness. It will also not contain warnings for any other potentially triggering content.

Reblogs are off for all posts to reduce the chance of any potentially upsetting content being added to them, and because I don't see why they would be necessary. If for some reason you would have liked to reblog a post, you are welcome to repost an image of it.

Posts will be as comprehensive as possible but still not completely. If you have a question or an addendum you are welcome to share or ask in the replies of the post or the ask box.

This blog is also a work in progress. I am adding episodes as I watch them. Still, if you would like to request a specific episode that I have not covered, you are welcome to do so in the ask box. An answer will be less comprehensive than a post. I will likely just use my memory and the Fanwiki to give a vague idea.

If i give a content warning in the title section of the post, that warning is for the contents of the post, not the episode. Please do no assume there will not be potentially triggering content (not vomiting related) in an episode because I have not given a warning, as I am not vetting for everything.

Posts

Every post will have the episode number and title, as well as verdict, before a 'keep reading' break. This is to avoid anyone reading the content who does not wish to.

After that will be three sections: Instances, Adjacent, and Mentions.

Instances are occasions when a character or characters vomits.

Adjacent refers to occasions and actions that could be adjacent to vomiting, ie. intense coughing or spitting.

Mentions will be any time vomit or vomiting is mentioned at all. (There may be instances of these that I miss as they are the most easy to overlook.)

Then, the verdict will be repeated and an explanation will be given.

Finally, I will provide a link to the episode's Fanwiki article. These can be useful to know more precisely when instances may take place, or to replace an episode with a summary. The summaries on the Fanwiki are very comprehensive. However, be mindful that the breakdown, while chronological, is not entirely scene by scene. (For example, there may be a clinic patient scene between two main plot ones, and its place is not always listed. Massive shout-out to the Fanwiki and anyone who worked on it. It's great and I could not have watched House without it.

Verdicts

Each episode will be given a verdict, or rating of whether or not there is vomiting, and how severe.

All Clear: Episodes given the All Clear verdict will be marked in green. These episodes will not contain vomiting of any kind, though they may contain mentions.

Mild: Episodes given the Mild verdict will be marked in yellow. These episodes may contain instances of mild vomiting or references to vomit. This might be a visual cue (such as a stain) unaccompanied by any action visible or audible. It may also contain moderate adjacent behavior, such as substances coming out of patients' mouths.

Moderate: Episodes given the Moderate verdict will be marked in orange. These episodes may contain instances of active vomiting that have no visual clue (someone retches offscreen, etc.). They may also contain severe adjacent behavior, typically in the case of coughing up blood. (Note that not all instances of 'coughing up blood' in this show are the same, and I am categorizing them at my own discretion.)

Proceed with Caution: Episodes given the Proceed with Caution verdict will be marked red. These episodes will contain instances where a character vomits on screen. However, these instances are often possible to avoid by muting and looking away.

Consider Skipping: Episdes given the Consider Skipping verdict will be marked purple. These episodes will contain instances where a character or characters vomit onscreen on multiple occasions, in a way that makes it difficult to avoid, or both. It might be better to read a summary of this episode instead.

Please remember that verdicts are based on my own opinions on what is severe. If a verdict is not All Clear, read the explanation to better determine what you are comfortable with.

Tags

For navigation purposes, every post will be tagged with 1) its verdict:

#all clear #mild #moderate #proceed with caution #consider skipping

2) Season: #season 1, #season 5, etc.

And 3) specific episode number: #1.2, #7.6, #5.14, etc

I will not be tagging for House or for vomit warnings. This is the final disclaimer that these posts will contain discussions of vomit and vomiting. I will keep it as far from graphic as it will allow.

I will tag asks or any other post as not being an episode reference.

Thanks!

#pinned post

[yououghtaknow]

NEW CLIP: “Toxic”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31310330/chapters/77412089

#skam brighton #it's once again mashup time besties!!!!! #toxic relationships are only boring to miserable people. i'm having a ball on this bitch. #i'm joking. al and ellie have a very abusive dynamic. but it is very fun to write about. #also you may be asking yourself 'isaac why is one of the songs for this clip on the official playlist the glee version?' #easy answer. the glee version of diamonds are a girls best friend FUCKING BANGS. #it's amazing. it's so fun. also both moulin rouge versions are mashups that aren't in the clip so it makes more sense #unique was very important to me gender wise as a child #when she sang if i were a boy...... that transed my gender so very much #also if you want to listen to a really interesting analysis of how glee tackles gender check out the gleewatch podcast #their episode for 'props' gets into gender and performance in a really insightful way #they also provide trigger warnings for every episode they do and are really good at media analysis #also if you know where the title of this episode is from you know what a ride we're in for :) #genuinely i love writing skambr because i love writing how different types of people react and cope with trauma #i also love writing it because i can write gender moments that are so specific to me #also i'm listening to speak now (the album) whilst editing this clip and just. god. it's literally one of the albums of all time #ALSO someone liked my skambr seasons as ts albums post recently #and i said s6 was evermore before it even came out and i was RIGHT

[damiano-mylove]

Members of Måneskin with a mentally ill/disordered S/O

Illnesses included: Depression, ADD, Tourette's and PTSD (so warnings for that and SH, drug usage, isolation, and heavy topics in general) *Masterlist*

This was a collaborative effort between Nik, Lina, Lute and two unnamed but very appreciated people - all of us afflicted with the varying illnesses above

Vic

Vic would take an empathetic approach to your illness/disorder (relating to you, researching, never pitying)

Depression

Vic would take a more of a nurturing role to your sadness

On the more sad days, Vic would nap with you for a little bit but she'd get to a point where enough would be enough

She would coax you out of bed in ways that appeal to you more than you'd ever care to admit, starting out with just getting you to eat somewhere else than in bed, then eventually moving up to showering, etcetera, etcetera

Vic would be very acutely tuned toward your needs, and she always fulfilled

It broke her heart that you were so sad, but she could relate and that made it a lighter burden on your back

When you first told her, Vic just went silent, then hugged you for a long time

ADD

Vic wouldn't be as supportive in this, but not in a neglectful way

She had a way of getting your attention back on the topic at hand, but sometimes she was just as bad as you for getting away from the main point

The impulsivity, she wasn't the biggest fan of, but you two worked through it like adults

When you'd forget things, Vic wouldn't get annoyed - but she would always remind you when you forgot what you needed to remember

Also, she was the best for finding misplaced things

PTSD

Vic would be very careful to avoid your triggers, however she never felt as if she was walking on eggshells

Before you were able to fully tell her what happened, Vic would never force you to tell her anything you weren't already ready to tell her of your own accord

There was no way she couldn't feel a bit sorry for you, but she never showed it, and she certainly didn't pity you - she just was sorry that something happened to you to give you PTSD

She would be mindful to never act as if she would be able to fix you

Tourette's

It didn't annoy her as much as you thought it surely would - especially since you had been trying to keep the tics at bay in the beginning of your relationship

Vic usually went on like nothing happened when you'd tic, but sometimes she'd laugh if your tics would hit her

Vic would proudly go out with you, even though you were scared about the looks you'd get on the street, but she never minded because she loved you and she wanted to show you that she loved you

Thomas

Thomas would take a supportive approach to your illness/disorder (reminding you to take your meds, making appointments for you if you'd ask, doing anything he could to make you feel better)

Depression

Thomas would always be the perfect person who would just shut the fuck up and cuddle you, but he would only do it if you'd ask because he knew sometimes you didn't feel like being around people

Wasn't really trained in any of this so he just cared for you like he'd like to be cared for

He was doing his best, and it was apparent, but sometimes you'd have to tell him what not to do and what to do

Of course, Thomas wouldn't bat an eye to stop or start doing anything at the raise of your finger - whether it be rub your back or let you be alone for a bit

He understood that he alone could not cure your depression, but he understood that he would be around for the ride, if you would have him

When you first told Thomas, he was silent, just nodding. He asked you a few very respectful questions but would never dream of pushing you. He would rub your knee and assure you of his love for you, no matter what

ADD

Honestly, Thomas didn't know what ADD was, at first

He googled it, then thought better to just ask you for a primary source

During nights where you couldn't sleep, Thomas would be right beside you, not sleeping either, which wasn't healthy for either of you, but it sure as Hell made you feel less lonely

Thomas lost shit and things all the time, so he never judged you for that, and his memory was potentially worse than yours so who was he to speak on that

But he was extremely good at getting you to finish tasks before moving on (sometimes just finishing them himself)

PTSD

Again, didn't exactly know what it entailed at first, but asked you a few questions to clear the air

Thomas would lead you through deep breathing exercises (unless you told him not to) when you were triggered and started losing control

Would always do anything and everything he could to avoid triggers with you

He would he more than patient with you

Tourette's

He would find some of your tics endearing (not harmful ones)

At one point, you'd even developed a verbal tic saying Thomas' name, which he always chuckled at and responded to you every single time as if you'd requested his presence, each time with a new pet name and a smile

If your tics would hit him by accident, you would apologize profusely, but Thomas would always laugh and brush it off

During tic attacks, he knew to just let you be, unless you would stop breathing, then he would certainly step in

He would ask his doctor a "hypothetical" about how to help someone through a tic attack, then used that advice forevermore, and it usually made a helpful difference

Ethan

Ethan would take a companion role (letting you take the lead, showing him what would happen and what to do to help, always listening to you before making his own move)

Depression

He'd dealt with depression before, but thoroughly understood that everyone is different in how they display mental illness

Ethan would recognize what to do, but would ask you for confirmation before acting upon anything that had potential to make a difference

On days where you couldn't leave your bed, he would bring you food (not a steak dinner, but he would definitely bring you soup or toast or a sandwich)

On days where you couldn't shower, he'd either be in the shower with you, or he'd draw you a bath instead, or he'd buy dry shampoo and sanitary wipes (those would be the last case, because he didn't want to throw off your pH)

He would assure you of his love and that you didn't burden him whatsoever

You were suffering, and you didn't make him suffer, but he did take some of that suffering from you

ADD

Certain times, I regret to say, he may get slightly annoyed, but not for long and not to the point of icing you out or anything

Ethan always found things to keep your mind occupied (watching Monty Python (actually a great programme for AD(H)D people), intricate games, new books, etc)

The best at finding lost things, and also has the best memory under the sun

Your symptoms wouldn't bother Ethan, save for constantly speaking (which can get a little annoying during a film or something)

PTSD

Would basically just go one with life - he would avoid all things relating to your triggers and PTSD - but otherwise, it would be business as per usual

If you got triggered, he would be by your side and on your side

He would do anything; deep breathing, distractions, grounding, getting your meds, anything

Ethan would always let you speak about it, when you'd want to, but otherwise treated you the exact same way as he had before you told him

Tourette's

He's always looking for something to joke about, and sometimes your tics provide just the material

He wouldn't dream of taking the piss out of the harmful or mean tics, but if you were laughing, then he was sure to be laughing as well

If your tics involved a bird whistle, he'd call you his 'little red bird' but wouldn't anymore if that upset you

Tourette's are a tough subject to joke about, but Ethan would always listen if you told him it was offensive, unfunny, or just a bad joke and Ethan would always take it in good humour and apologize

Most of the time though, he could make some funny fucking comments

Damiano

Damiano would take a nonchalant approach (not explicitly talking about it, never take the spotlight off you (if he could help it), try his best to help you through any challenges without making you feel like you were an inconvenience to him

Depression

He was your best friend before he was your lover

As such, you were always able to talk to Damiano about your depression anytime you felt it getting bad, as to warn him

Damiano would never leave your side, unless you told him to, but he'd always have a film on in the back, or he'd play with your hair, or distract you by brushing your hair or having you help him pick out an outfit

He enjoyed cleaning, so your bedroom would never become a depression room, and that helped get you out of your slumps most of the time

Dami was also swimmingly good at getting you up, even if it be just for a dance in the moonlight then back to bed, or a walk around the block then on the couch

He understood wanting to cope, but if you were prone to drug usage, Damiano would totally discourage it and stop you from using as best he could

ADD

Not everyday is a trip to Disney, but with Damiano, it is

Damiano always had new records to catch your fancy, he'd always have some home project lined up for the two of you, he'd always let you do extravagant things with makeup on his face

It seemed if you lost something, Dami would find it, but if Damiano lost something, you would find it (good system actually)

Would always have reminders in his phone so he would add reminders for you on his phone (appointments, birthdays, events)

Damiano seemed to always have just the trick to get you to sleep, even when you felt like you physically couldn't

PTSD

After you told him, Damiano would immediately avoid the topic in future conversations

He would support you fully during any trigger or episode, but he never treated you any differently at all just because you have PTSD

It hurt him that something hurt you so badly, but he took it all in a deep breath - after all, he signed up for you, all of you, so he certainly wouldn't give up on you just because of a disorder

Damiano would be in your corner 100%, and you knew it and you knew you could always go to him

Tourette's

Some tics would get that beautiful smile on his face, but otherwise he continued conversations like nothing ever happened

He didn't bat an eye at a physical tic, not a verbal tic

But he was the man to go to during a tic attack

He wouldn't treat you like a science experiment, or like an insane asylum patient - he treated you with love and support, like no one else ever had

Damiano had read about a dozen books on how to support people with Tourette's, and he'd also talked to other people he knew who had Tourette's - Damiano was thoroughly educated on how to help you, the love of his life

headass this was hard to fuckin write and i know its shitty and the cw’s are a bunch and i cut it but im sorry and hope its good enough

#maneskin #måneskin #victoria de angelis #victoria maneskin #victoria de angelis x reader #thomas raggi #thomas raggi x reader #thomas maneskin #ethan torchio #ethan torchio x reader #ethan maneskin #damiano #damiano david #damiano maneskin #damiano david x reader #fanfic #damiano david fanfiction

[harmfulot]

Hi!! Before you read this or try to take this down please just consider reading this instead of being so hateful. I don’t mean to spread hate onto any shippers but I do believe that Inuyasha’s fandom has a major problem that needs to be addressed. Trigger warning for pedophila,child p*rn and grooming.

Why Sessrin is problematic.

Sessrin is a very popular ship among the Inuyasha community. If you are a shipper of this pair you won’t have to worry for lack of content for it. Rin is a injured child character that is introduced in the original Inuyasha manga in issue 14. She meets Sesshomaru in the forest and even though she is going through a lot at such a young age her kind self still tries to help him out. Sesshomaru at first does not care for this child who is tending to him. He tells her to mind her business and has her leave. Soon after Rin is killed by Kouga’s pack of wolves and Sesshomaru with his demon power scented her blood and comes to save her with his Tenseiga. After this Sessshomaru decides to take in Rin and protect her even though he had a hatred for humans. A “similarly” shippers like to compare Inuyasha and Kagome’s relationship with but their relationship is not written with romantic tensions..

The reason why Rin was written and VERY important in Inuyasha is because she is the reason why Sesshomaru became a better person. He no longer hated humans or wanted to go against his brother. This broken human child Rin looked up to Sesshomaru who was a powerful older demon. Sesshomaru grew a soft side and it was because of her caring innocence. You could easily see their connection as father and daughter or Sesshomaru as a guardian for her. Never did he have the thought of getting with her when she got older and Rin never developed a crush on him. Why? Because she is a child who lost her parents and now has this person who protects her like one. People may say that Jaken was the father figure for Rin but I don’t agree because unlike Sesshomaru he did not care for Rin and only handled her to please his lord. Jaken would call Rin many negative things and go off at her. Rin was annoyed by Jaken. He is certainly not a parent figure for her. Sesshomaru provided a stay aside him to lead for Rin which she followed. Rin was no longer alone. She had Sesshomaru’s company now. Even if he was not very good at taking care of her he never wanted her to get hurt or killed again. He is new to this “taking care of people” thing after all especially humans...young humans. Sessrin would destroy the growth of Sesshomaru because it can’t be denyed that their relationship represents this much more than a romance waiting to happen. When Kagura came along Rin told Jaken joyfully she bet Kagura had a crush on Sesshomaru this small moment reminds you she a is a child that lost her parents and could be seeing this as a opportunity for Kagura to become her adoptive mother. And most Sesshomaru cosplayers would use their daughter to cosplay for Rin. Usually making the picture taken seem like Sesshomaru is protecting Rin or having them both share a cute bonding moment. Why? Because that is how their relationship is meant to be established. For a Sessrin cosplay to work people would have to age up Rin and her design or else the cosplayers would receive negative feedback. Now moving on to how aging up Rin is not okay either.

People claim they only would like to see these two get together once Rin is older but that is almost as bad as shipping Sessrin while she is a child. Sesshomaru saw Rin grow up. He raised her for a while as his own this needs to stop being denied in the fandom. For Sesshomaru to impregnate Rin is out of character. And seems like a sick fanasty. He is not that kind of character. He wouldn’t touch Rin in that matter. Even if she was in her late 20’s. He respected child Rin and would still respect her older. Sessrin is like if a babysitter got together with the person they use to take care of as a kid. It’s disturbing!! Not cute. Rin does not deserve to be fedished.

It’s actually terrifying how much child p*rn there is of Rin. I feel so ashamed by even coming across one by mistake. Don’t use the excuse that Rin is a fictional character. Enough with that excuse. Let’s throw that excuse away. That excuse of “it’s fictional it does not matter..” only works for certain things like when someone assigns headcanons for their favorite character or ships a non-canon pair that isn’t problematic. Not when we are speaking of drawing nsfw of a fictional child. And fictional or not. Rin is a child and every grown person who has drawn smut of her should be ashamed and even arrested. If you see a fictional child in this matter what knows what could you lead you up to see an actual kid as this too. It’s a big problem because there are so many people who have gotten away with this. It’s so easy to find a image of child Rin without any of her clothes on or being r*ped by Sesshomaru. Sesshomaru would never r*pe anyone. It’s quite sad. Kagome was saved from being sexually assaulted by Mukostu because of Sesshomaru. People has even brought doujinshi comics of Sessrin making love or may I call it child p*rn in disguise? Be honest with yourself. It really is just that.

Everyone finding out would be horrified. Excluding Hanyo No Yashahime which majorly changed the characters. Sesshomaru and Rin being together would make everyone uncomfortable even Miroku who has before asked a child if she would bare his kid. Which Inuyasha,Kagome,and Sango reacted very badly to. And was yelled at for it. They do not tolerate pedos nor grooming. Kagome especially would be against. She referred Rin as the girl many times and puzzled together that Sesshomaru took care for Rin. Many people bring up that Kouga proposed to Ayame when she was a kid but remember that was never in the original. Sunrise created Ayame and added this other plot in order for Kouga to have someone at the end. Which is sad because this could have worked if Ayame met Kouga and gained a crush on him instead. She was a cute character after all. In the manga Kouga remains by himself since Kagome stayed with Inuyasha. Now I am definitely not a fan of Kouga and Ayame. I despise the fact Sunrise only created her to be Kouga’s romance interest but having him tell her he would marry her once she was older was even worse. This was a choice Sunrise made not Kouga’s original character. The reason why Kagome does not call out Kouga on this is because she did not know Ayame was a child at the time he proposed. He never mentioned it but if he did I’m certain Kagome would have not tried to keep setting them up together knowing this information. And just a reminder that even in real life some Inuyasha voice actors such as Richard Ian Cox and David Kaye voice actor for Sesshomaru does not support Sessrin. Adding on shipping Rin with Sesshomaru is like shipping Shippo with Inuyasha or Kagome. Weird right?? In the Manga Sesshomaru’s Mother Inukimi says that Sesshomaru is like his father in the strangest of ways after saving Rin again. No this doesn’t mean that he will soon come to love her romantically because Inukimi did add “In the strangest of ways” and refers to Rin as a girl like Kagome. She means that Sesshomaru had now changed and that he cared about someone who was a human like his dad who also cared for them even though they are both demons.

It’s funny how the sequel claims girl power but does not know how to treat it’s female characters. Kagome and Sango are both introduced as Inuyasha and Miroku’s wives instead of their actual character. Now if you not a woman please do not have a say in this unless you wish to agree but this is very sexist Sunrise. I’m not exaggerating how upsetting and disrespectful it is to see you introduce these strong main female role models like this. Inuyasha and Miroku were not titled as husbands of...so why were Kagome and Sango? I’m sure 99% of audience would know who is married to who. Women are not objects or tools Sunrise. Kagome is the main character of Inuyasha even if his name is on title. She is the reason why got to meet these characters. Sunrise has done female characters dirty many times like making Ayame obessed with Kouga when she could have been a neat character but what they did to Rin takes the cake. Rin is introduced as “The girl who adores Sesshomaru” but apparently now that girl is the mother of his children. Shame on you Sunrise!! We only saw Rin ever as a child even when series ended aging her up to become Sesshomaru’s wife without knowing how she is as a grown person is not a good example for your younger female audience to view. This could have been avoided.

Even though I’m a minor who only been in this fandom for half a year I gather a lot of knowledge of how far this fandom goes. It was definitely most popular around early 2000’s and many say it was their first anime with their first anime crush being Sesshomaru. Inuyasha was an anime I did not look content for till later after finishing season 2. When I discovered Sessrin I was real confused and thought to myself it was just a small part of the fandom but I could have been more wrong. Many accounts I followed that involved Inuyasha shipped Sessrin. Even after finishing many Inuyasha episodes I was very confused on why this was a thing and how could have it gotten so big. I thought something magical would have happened like Rin turning out to be someone much older but that never happened. I was wrong. This ship is just pedophila and nothing else. And I’m sure if Sesshomaru wasn’t “attractive” Sessrin wouldn’t be big. Going back to people crushing on Sesshomaru when they were younger I’m sure the reason Sessrin is not more discussed about for how toxic it is online is because besides people being scared,people like to insert themselves as Rin but this has to stop. Adults should not pair a child and grown up together even if the child is now grown. Especially grown ups with kids. This is not good example to set for your kids. I’ve seen many minors being harassed online for disliking Sessrin by adults. Which is super immature and should be in trouble for. Netruals must know that is not a ship war because there have been people who have gotten horrible hate and were told very graphic things by Sessrin shippers. ( By the way I’m sorry to anyone who has been hurt online even Sessrin shippers. I do not support Sessrin but no one should be told awful things. ) Many Inuyasha fans which dislike Sessrin have left Twitter and Tumblr because of how much hate they have gotten. This is not okay. People should be able to voice their opinion on something without being told to commit s*icide or hoping they get r*ped.

And your point? This sequel is being written in the 21th century. We could write it however we please not everything has to be “accurate” and also this state is just supporting the idea of children being wed with a grown up was okay before because the age of consent was different. Ugh..but this claim is just another excuse. Please stop using it. Many things in the past were allowed which wouldn’t be allowed today. So no this is not a valid reason to ship Rin with Sesshomaru.

Sunrise should not be off the hook for using child Rin clips for the opening as the daughters are shown. It was a wrong decision to make them seem like “moments” since now many actual pedophiles will support this pair as well. Even before this continuing was announced Sessrin was a big thing and “adult Rin” was not. Sunrise should not be supporting Sessrin at all. Nor anyone in the Inuyasha crew. They have many young fans watching and supporting this anime and they are being influenced and will grow up to think grooming is okay when it’s not. Again in 2021 this can not be allowed and it shouldn’t have ever. This sequel was not necessary. The anime ended fine.

If Rin is the mom I will no longer support Hanyo No Yashahime. I’m sorry but I will sadly have to drop it. There are a lot of reasons why Sessrin should not be a thing and Sunrise should know many themselves,because they have joined along these character’s journeys and seen through scripts who they are. And what Sessrin is pedophila and grooming that happened to get a lot of support which is why it is hard to find more people within online media discuss it. I sure do hope it does because I am tired of seeing only few doing it. We need more awareness of how problematic grooming pairs are in anime media. No more portraying children to grow up as romance interests for people they were raised by. Let’s keep Sesshomaru and Rin’s relationship wholesome. There is no need for them to get together. At the end of the day Rin owns Sesshomaru nothing and he knows that. Let’s start viewing them from a different point of view. Let’s see more fanart of them acting like father and daughter. I love that. Thank you and have a good day.

#Anti Sessrin #Inuyasha #Hanyo No Yashahime #Anti Grooming #Sunrise #I EDITED THIS SO MANY TIMES CAUSE OF ERRORS AND PEOPLE HAVE REBLOGGED IT THAT WAY YEE #Don’t encourage this

[beachblanketblacksails]

Welcome to the beach! 🌴

Beach Blanket Black Sails is an 18+ fandom event to appreciate and share our love for Black Sails, Starz’ historical fiction pirate adventure series.

If you’re not familiar with the show, it’s a prequel to Treasure Island (yes, the same Treasure Island you may have enjoyed as a kid, but don’t worry about it). Black Sails is mid-2010’s premiere television, which means many beautiful people do extraordinary and sometimes awful things in expensive ways. There are ships, and cannons, and Spanish gold, and a lot of sex and violence. It also (eventually, we promise) tells stories about greed and power, narrative and truth, freedom and resistance, and about queer love, rage, and grief (and love, again).

Black Sails ended in 2017 and has been an understated but real presence in fandom since it started in 2014. There are about 4,800 fics in the Black Sails tags on Ao3. Lately, Black Sails seems to be picking up speed again in certain fandom circles, and so now seems like a good time for us to start shouting our love for it, too.

Okay, but what IS this?

Beach Blanket Black Sails is made up of two parts, both optional.

The first part is a semi-scheduled rewatch starting this summer. We’ll post a link to our proposed schedule, but you’re welcome to watch whenever it works for you.

(We should also mention that we’ve been calling it a rewatch but first-time viewers are also so, so welcome.)

The second part is a fic (and art, if you like!) fest. This will run throughout the fall, with the window for prompts opening on August 22, 2021 and final fills posted by December 10.

All of this will be supported through a Discord server. There will be a link to our server posted on this blog in the next few days, as we get it set up. We want this to be a fun, relaxed atmosphere; if you have experience modding and are interested in volunteering, please send us a DM or an ask!

Who can participate?

Everyone who is over 18 or the legal age of majority in your country is welcome to participate. Black Sails is emphatically adult content and we can’t endorse or take responsibility for minors (or for anyone, really) for whom that content isn’t suitable.

What are the rules?

A FAQ for the fest can be found here but in general, writers (and artists, if you like!) will fill prompts submitted by anyone participating in either the rewatch or the fic fest. Fills will be posted to an Ao3 collection and revealed around mid-December 2021.

The rules for participating in the event more generally are as follows:

This event is an adults-only event.

Be kind and respectful; remember that every username is a human being.

We shouldn’t have to say this, but this includes not harassing people for their ships, their meta, or their content.

We REALLY shouldn’t have to say this, but this also means that racism, homophobia, transphobia, queerphobia, ableism, fatphobia, ageism, sexism, and the like are not welcome in this event.

Finally, no complaining about pirate puns or silly server names. It gets us through the day!

Is there anything else I should know?

We’ve mentioned it already, but Black Sails is extremely adult content. The show contains graphic violence, torture, explicit sexual content, depictions of enslaved persons, sexual assualt, imperialism and colonialism, and extensive drug and alcohol use. It is also frequently funny, tender, heartbreaking, beautiful, and insightful. If this is your first time watching Black Sails, we ask that you enter into it prepared to encounter and engage with this content and these themes, or to back out or otherwise self-manage if you are not able to watch uninterrupted.

The deeply personal and variable nature of triggers means that we will not be providing content warnings or trigger warnings for each episode. You can find some detail on Does the Dog Die?; others may be found with a google search.

All of this said, we really do want this event to be fun. Black Sails is fascinating, but it’s also wildly entertaining and compelling TV! Please, put on your best pirate fits and grab a glass of your favourite (adult) beverage, and come shout with us about how incredible this absolutely wild piece of television is!

Follow this blog or check back soon for more info! 

#beach blanket black sails #art and fic fest #black sails #know no shame #rewatch august babey

[uwuwriting]

Todoroki, Shinsou and Iida protecting you

Request: Hello can I request todo, shinsou and iida protecting their girlfriend from cat callers or something like that? Basically her being in a really uncomfortable situation and even though she is a fearless hero in the field because of past trauma she freezes up in these situations? Thank you - anonymous

This post might trigger some people since they might have experienced something similar both in the cat calling and past trauma department. I’ve never really written anything so serious and triggering before so this might suck. I’m sorry in advance. So TW beware. Love yaa.💖💖💖

rules

warnings: trauma, PTSD, semi non-con but not explicit, cat-calling, harassment, ends in fluff

Todoroki Shouto

-Shouto is really protective of you. 

-Not an overbearing type of protective, he just wants you to be safe and sound. 

-Also he knew about your abusive past.

-When he shared his family background you shared your own trauma and history with physical abuse. 

-It hurt him to hear you saying that someone you trusted, someone who used to be in his place, betrayed you like that. 

-If he could find your ex and beat him to a plump because of how he scarred you, he would. 

-But you reassured him that you were alright now, that he showed you what being loved felt like even though he himself didn’t really know how to love and that your past is what pushed you to be a hero. 

-Your relationship lasted even after high school and now, one year into the adult world, you two lived together. 

-It had been a tough day for your boyfriend at work, having to fight three major villain attacks and a mountain of paper work to tackle. 

-Fighting along side you was the highlight of his day. 

-He was the first to arrive at your apartment and had gotten to preparing dinner for you when his phone rang. 

-You smiled back at him from the screen as he accepted the call. 

- “Hey, love. I making so-”

- “Sho someone is following me.”

-He heard the panic in your voice and immediately turned off the stove walking to the door to put on his shoes. 

- “Y/N where are you?”

-You gave him your location and he was out the door in no time. 

-He kept you on the phone, talking to you, trying to restrain your panic. 

- “H-he was outside of the pharmacy near the a-agency.” 

-You never stuttered, oh god he was going to kill the man. 

- “I walked past him and he grabbed my arm a-and pushed me on the w-wall. Shouto he tried to t-touch me.”

-He was running now, his rage making his quirk go crazy as flames rose from his left shoulder. 

- “Baby I’m almost there, go into the convenience store on the corner and wait in there.”

-Your weak okay from the other line pushed him further. 

-He knew how certain acts reminded you of your ex, even after all these years. 

-They would send you into a small panic and even though you were one of the top upcoming heroes , you were still human at the end of the day your own past haunting you. 

-He was always there to chase those fears and memories away, never letting them get to close to you. 

-And now that’s exactly what he has set out to do; chase away the man who tried to hurt you. 

-Rounding the corner he was met with a sight he wished to never ever witness again. 

-It seems that you hadn’t made it into the store when he hang up and he slapped himself for not keeping you on the call for longer. 

-He heard your sobs as the man had you pinned to the wall his hand trying to unzip your jeans. 

-Shouto was fuming. 

-Without a second thought he grabbed the man by his jacket and shoved him to the ground, grabbing your elbows to steady you before pushing you gently behind him as the man stood up. 

- “Want a taste of her too boy?”

- “Get the fuck away from her!”

-Shouto kept one of his arms behind him pressing you onto his back as the other activated his quirk frost forming from his elbow to his palm. 

-He could feel your trembling as you clutched onto his shirt, on of your hands grasping his own squeezing it. 

-The man backed away at the sight of Shouto’s ice raising his hands in the air admitting defeat. 

-Shouto however had other plans. 

-Freezing the man on the spot he growled as he fished his phone out of his pocket and called the police reporting what the man had done and his location.

- “If I ever see you again anywhere near her I’m not going to be this kind got it?”

-And with that you two left as the police sirens sounded in the distance. 

-Back in your apartment, Shouto helped you get undressed and then ran you a bath, wiping away the man’s touch and leaving small kisses were his hands used to be. 

-He helped you get dressed in one of his hoodies and a loose pair of sweatpants before setting you down on the couch and ordering your favorite food.

-He heard your small sniffles and sat down beside you, bringing you on his lap and letting you cry it out, rocking you back and forth as he kisses your hair.

-You calm down after some time but Shouto won’t let you leave his embrace.

- “I won’t let anyone else hurt you ever again. I don’t care where I am you will always call me when something happens. I love you.”

-For the next month or so Shouto was at your beck and call, never leaving your side and even going as far to take some days off to spend as much time with you as possible.

-He kept his promise as he kept you safe for the rest of your lives. 

Shinsou Hitoshi

-Hitoshi was there for you when he found out about how one of you family members had hurt you. 

-He was there when you would wake up with nightmares while sleeping in his dorm. 

-Or when you had panic attacks after someone came at you in a way that seemed all too familiar. 

-He was there every step of the way. 

-Hitoshi was really amazed at how you zoned in on your work and those thoughts never held you back. 

-PTSD was hard to battle and even harder to deal with in a work place such as yours. 

-After high school your panic attacks fell in numbers, leaving you to rest peacefully at night.

-Shinsou was sure he had chased your demons away, that you felt completely safe with him and that he would never see your trembles of fear ever again.

-But he was wrong. 

-You two were out on a date, walking along the beach on a sunny day enjoying each others company. 

-Shinsou went to buy you two ice cream leaving you to wait for him on a bench.

-You were minding your business, checking up with your agency to make sure everything is alright; after all it’s not everyday that your main two heroes are out of commission for the day. 

- “Damn girl where’d ya get all that ass!”

-It came from a group of man behind you who were staring at you like a piece of meat.

-You tried to ignore them switching to your messages ready to text Hitoshi.

- “Those shorts look so tight on you sweetheart.”

- “I bet it’s not the only thing that’s tight about her.”

-You had frozen up at the nickname.

-It brought back everything you and Shinsou had managed to scare off, pushing them down your throat making your insides twist in disgust. 

 -He isn’t here it’s just some awful cat callers, Y/N calm down. 

-You tried to calm yourself down using your common sense, separating the two situations and pointing out the differences, a  technique Shinsou had taught you while you were still in high school.

-You were so lost in thought you hadn’t noticed the three men hovering over you, one of them reaching down to grasp your thigh. 

-That’s when you started to tremble.

- “Aw look at her, she’s so excited..”

- “Let’s go have some fun pretty girl.”

- “We’ll make you feel so good you won’t be able to walk home.”

-You shoved the man’s hand away and went to get up only for an arm to snake around your waist  pulling you back down on the bench. 

- “Now now sweetheart don’t be naughty.”

-You wanted Hitoshi. 

-You wanted your Hitoshi so bad right now.

-And as if you had summoned him, purple hair could be seen above the men’s heads. 

-Shoving them off of you one more time you pushed through hitting Shinsou’s chest as he wrapped an arm around you. 

-He pushed you behind his back before scanning the three men, leveling them with a glare so sharp it could slice right through them. 

- “You better leave my girl alone before I get really angry.”

-The men scrambled to their feet before running off, terrified from Hitoshi’s structure. 

- “Kitten! Kitten are you alright? Did they hurt you? Please kitty talk to me.”

-Tears ran down your cheeks and Shisnou just pulled you gently into his chest before telling you that he was taking you home.

-This man will do everything in the house after that. 

-He undresses you and helps into the shower to clear their touch from your skin, then he dresses you in one of his large hoodies and lays you on the couch. 

-He can see you are still trembling so he comes back and takes you into his arms before going back to doing whatever he had in mind. 

-Now this is a scene to behold. 

-Two of Japan’s strongest heroes are walking around their house cosplaying a panda and its bamboo stick. 

 -He orders take out and then lays on the couch, still having you on his lap drowning your sobs in his chest as he says over and over again how sorry he is for leaving you alone and how much he loves you. 

-He knows you haven’t had an episode in what felt like ages. 

-It really shook him seeing you so helpless and terrified again. 

-He swore he would never see that petrified glint in your eyes. 

-That was his new mission. 

-And he was willing to do anything to accomplish it. 

Iida Tenya 

-Iida is well aware about how your ex had forced you to do certain things with him. 

-He also knew how you believed that what had happened had been your fault. 

-He had reassured you that nothing was your fault,that your ex was to blame and to never see yourself other than the victim in this situation. 

-It hurt him to see you suffer so much. 

-He had provided you with a shoulder to cry on and soon enough you two were together.

-When during your last year of high school, his comfort and words didn’t really cut it he encouraged you to see a therapist. 

-And that helped you a lot. 

-It untangled the parts Iida couldn’t reach on his own and coupled with his support you managed to pull yourself fully out of the whole that your ex had dug. 

-Now Iida knew that somethings still triggered you. 

-He knew what he should and shouldn’t do while you two are being intimate and what he should watch out for. 

-So when you two are taking the train to visit Deku in his agency for his birthday and he feels you squeezed his hand a little too hard he knew something was up. 

-You had buried you face in his shoulder, something he wouldn’t allow if you had asked, squeezing his hand as your breathing became uneven. 

-Iida looked around expecting to see your ex somewhere thinking that he was the reason for your small attack. 

-But he found no one he knew in the crowd. 

-Then his eyes fell back down to you and from the corner of his eye he caught movement under your dress. 

-Following the source of the movement with his eyes he was met with the lustful eyes of a grown ass man, his hand under your skirt groping and squeezing you. 

-He saw his hand trying to separate your thighs and that’s when he fully snapped. 

-Grabbing the man’s hand he shoved it in his chest before placing himself between you and him. 

- “How dare you touch her like that? You should be ashamed of yourself!!”

-The whole train was looking at the man at this point and Iida could see how the vein on his forehead popped. 

- “Being an adult, you should know better.”

-Others chimed in insulting and shaming the man while others asked you if you were alright. 

-At the next stop the person got off a chain of angry comments following him out. 

- “Y/N honey are you alright?”

-You buried your face in his chest and he let you stay there for the rest of the ride. 

-He placed on hand on your back rubbing soft circles over your sweater and talking to you not allowing your thoughts/memories to creep further into your mind. 

-He kept your hand in his for as long as you were away from your apartment. 

-You would squeeze his hand every now and then, grounding yourself. 

-Once at home late that evening he pampered you. 

-He ran you a bubble bath and cooked your favorite food. 

-He made a small pillow fort on your couch while you were in the bath and he waited for you to finish. 

-The rest of your day and night was spent in your boyfriend’s arms never letting you go once. 

-He provided his warmth and comfort. 

-Just like when you were in high  school.

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan​ @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​

#todoroki shouto #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #mha todoroki #shouto x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #shinsou fluff #my hero academia shinsou #shinsou x y/n #shinsou x you #shinsou x reader #iida tenya x reader #my hero academia iida #iida x reader #iida tenya #bnha iida #iida x you

[shojo-sylveon]

The Symbolism of Dios - Revolutionary Girl Utena

Okay so this is something I wrote a couple months ago. I didn’t want to post it on my main blog but now that I have this side blog I thought I’d post it. I was really confused on the character of Dios when I first watched Utena, and upon reading other people’s interpretations of him online, I found that I didn’t agree with any of them. So I started making an outline to figure out my own interpretation, which eventually turned into this little mini essay. If anyone agrees or disagrees you are welcome to provide commentary, I most certainly do not claim to understand the enigma that is Revolutionary Girl Utena in its entirety but this is just my understanding of Dios/Akio. I apologize if the formatting on this is a mess, I wrote this in google docs to organize my own thoughts.  Spoilers ahead. Trigger Warnings: abuse mention

Dios means “god.”

Dios represents: childhood fantasies, an idealistic view of men as “princes” which separates them from their wrongdoings, childhood innocence Episodes evalutated: 13, 34, 39

Notable: When the power of Dios assists Utena in each duel, the outline of Dios starts to look more like Akio as the episodes progress. In the short scenes where Dios appears he begins to look more like Akio as the scene progresses. Anthy sees Dios in Utena.

I believe Dios “died” when Akio was “born.” Anthy sealed away “the power of Dios” in order to stop him from using his power to help others which would only result in his demise, and Akio perpetuates this idea that if he were to regain the power of Dios, he would once again become Dios, but this is not so, and he knows that. Anthy did not seal away Akio, only his power, as he continued to exist. Dios changed to Akio, not because he lost his power, but because his own spite consumed him. To blame Anthy for “sealing away this power” along with his “nobility” is simply a scapegoat he uses so he can continue being a piece of shit. Everything Akio does is in pursuit of power. Akio pursues the power of Dios so he can be more powerful, not so he can regain his nobility. Akio knows he may never regain that power, and he is okay with that. Failure just means he can continue “stay in his comfy coffin” where he lives in a never ending timeline where he is in control and profits off of Anthy’s suffering. He uses the promise of obtaining the power of Dios to comfort himself and maintain control of Anthy. 

The power of Dios is not obtainable to Akio. Without his nobility, which he chose to abandon, he can never again hold the power he held as someone with pure intentions. Questions:

1. Is Dios his own person? Is he a ghost or spirit of some sort? 2. Does Dios truly have good intentions? The ending of the series shows us that there are no princes, and there are no damsels in distress. These are all just idealistic fantasies believed in by children. Utena could not become a prince, not because she was a woman, but because the only person who could save Anthy was Anthy. 

 Utena’s First Encounter with Dios:  I believe that this encounter was with Akio, taking on the form of Dios to help perpetuate the “princely” aesthetic, while it is possible that this vision is some fragment of the memory of Dios, as created by either Akio or Anthy (similar to Mikage’s memories creating a reality), I think Dios’s behavior feels much more on brand with Akio and his motives in this scene. Dios eggs on Utena to become a prince and save Anthy, although there is something about his demeanor which is cold and uncaring, it is not that of a loving concerned brother. Akio sees the “nobility” in Utena’s empathy, and thinks she may be one who can help him regain his old power, which is why he manipulates her into becoming his pawn. Episode 13: 

Here we see Akio talking to Dios; himself. He says the seal on the power of Dios is beginning to break. Dios “glares” at him, and Akio, unphased, says it will benefit them both. One question that really weighed on me here was, who is the Dios we see here? The castle itself where Dios is “sealed” is only an illusion, created by Akio himself. Based on this information, I believe this whole conversation takes place in Akio’s head, and the conversation is with himself. Perhaps Akio knows that his old self might claim to feel disgust with his current lifestyle and actions, but it does not bother him in the slightest, and claims that the power of them being one again would equally benefit them both, implying that power is what the old Dios also would have wanted. If this is correct that Dios is simply inside Akio’s head, it explains how Akio continues to have control over every single aspect of everything that has happened thus far. He continues to manipulate Utena in pursuit of her nobility, hoping it will break the seal on the power he desires. He also continues to spark some sort of hope in Anthy, reawakening her memories of what her brother once was, allowing Akio to further convince her that with the power of Dios, he could once again be that memory for her, which obviously cannot happen but it helps to keep Anthy under his control. The Sword of Dios, and the Power of Dios which possesses Utena: 

The power we see in the duels raises another question: Is this truly the power of Dios? Or is this too Akio’s power? Perhaps he is mimicking Dios’s powers by insisting that these duels are noble. If it is Dios’s power, why does Dios eventually turn into Akio? Once again Akio has shown he has supreme power over everything that happens at Ohtori, especially within that observatory dueling arena castle place of his. I believe everything we see is created by Akio.

Episode 39: Once again, we see Dios in the mysterious Merry-go-round scene. Dios is supposed to be attempting to comfort her, but this time Dios is pushing her to give up, and he speaks to her in a very patronizing way. This is not a prince who wants to motivate a young noble woman to help him save his beloved sister. I believe this is just another image created by Akio to manipulate Utena.

More on Dios: Dios is always drawn with wide child-like eyes at the start of his scenes, that get thinner and start to look more like Akio’s as the scene goes on. Many abusers start out seemingly kind and loving, and that’s how they rope in victims. It’s fair to note that Dios himself was a child in the beginning, though after losing his power he grew up and became corrupted, blaming Anthy for the loss of his power. Yet, like other abusers, I do not believe Dios was ever the perfect idealistic prince he was painted to be. Perhaps this is what Anthy remembers him as, perhaps what he acted as, but as he grew up the evil surfaced. Dios likely always took pleasure in the power he had and the way women demanded his attention, the position of power he held over those he helped. It was these seeds that completely corrupted him as he matured into an adult. 

Questions Revisited:

1. Is Dios his own person? Is he a ghost or spirit of some sort? No, he is simply a vision created by Akio to further remain in control. 2. Does Dios truly have good intentions? 

No, not only are the visions we see all of him actually just Akio, but I do not believe that even the original Dios was truly pure of heart. Anthy never needed a prince, she needed to love and believe in herself, and to be loved and believed in by others. If Dios was truly a perfect man, he would have been aware of this, but the perfect man simply does not exist. 

#revolutionary girl utena #trigger warning #abuse mention #utena #dios #akio #analysis #interpretation #anime analysis #personal commentary #mine #thoughts #not sure what to tag original posts as on here #my post #(?) #long post

[itsclydebitches]

Hey Clyde, did you check out Wonder Egg Priority at all? The first ep is super promising, but the series as a whole is one of those real fascinating disasters from a story and a production standpoint that might be up your alley as a thing to pick apart haha.

I’d warn that it’s also reeeeal offensive and this generally gets worse as it goes though.

Hi, Phoenix! How are you and Cube doing?

Okay, I hadn't watched Wonder Egg Priority when I received your ask this morning. Now I have. In a fit of intense curiosity I settled down for a rare binge session and tore through all twelve episodes + OVA in a single sitting. It is now nearly 3:00am as I write this because I, oh so clearly, make fantastic life choices.

A question for you: what did I just watch?

The rest is going under a read more partly for spoilers, but more-so because WEP—and the summary I'm about to give, because I feel like I need to try and explain this to tumblr's faceless void for my own, dwindling sanity—comes with about every trigger warning under the sun. Seriously, if you are triggered by anything that we might think of as a "standard" trigger (meaning, not unique to you and your own experiences), best to proceed with caution.

Right! What the ever loving fuck happened in this show? Well, let's work through this chronologically. Two genius, frat boy brothers (I get their names mixed up so I'm not even gonna bother) are locked in their apartment and closely monitored because of Super Secret Science Research. Even though, I think, they're the ones who created this company. Not important! What is important is that they're bored enough to create an AI for funsies, thinking of her as their daughter and letting her name herself Frill. Frill is the perfect, cutesy, also genius child who has a habit of popping her lips — which the camera focuses on in an incredibly creepy fashion. One day Brother #1 (the hot one) falls in love with a random woman we know nothing about and Frill gets jealous.

"Jealous in a general sense?" you ask, thinking this show is in any way normal. "Like, just of her Dad giving attention to someone else?"

"No," I respond, patting your hand. "Jealous because she's in love with him." Which, beyond the subject matter itself, comes completely out of nowhere. Frill has a line about what you'd do if some woman stole your husband away. I, fool that I was, briefly considered that these two guys were lovers, not brothers. Oh no. They're brothers. Frill just considers Dad #1 to be her "husband."

So, in true evil AI fashion, she murders the wife, leaving only her newly born child behind. Who is a daughter.

Uh oh.

Dad #1 locks Frill in a coffin-esque hole in the basement and goes on with his life. Things are great! Until years later when the daughter reveals that she has fallen in love with her uncle (Dad #2 to Frill). She knows (somehow??) that both her dad and her uncle loved her mom, so if the loser uncle will just wait a few years he can marry her instead! He brushes her off, but the next day she’s found dead of an apparent suicide.

Realizing that this was somehow Frill’s doing, he marches down to the basement and confronts the murderous child they’ve had locked up for years. She’s now surrounded by screens in, again, true creep AI fashion. How did she get all this while she was locked up? Oh, just the three bug girls she created as friends prior to killing the wife. They’re devoted slaves, I guess. So the uncle says enough of this insanity and seemingly sets Frill on fire.

OH and Frill’s subtitled dialogue also puts “uncle” in quotation marks, implying that the daughter was always Dad #2’s??

Anyway, both brothers are now super obsessed with death and claim that they think Frill has had a hand in lots of girls’ suicides, even now after her own death. This is brought into question later when it’s revealed that they might have just concocted this scheme to try and bring back their daughter. I’m really not sure. Regardless, they use hand-wavey science to create eggs that I guess contain the souls of young girls who have committed suicide, then they sucker in other young girls who have lost people to suicide to try and rescue their loved ones in a dream world, saving others along the way. A tomboyish girl, Momoe, lost a classmate who admitted to loving her, but who Momoe rejected. Rika, a former junior idol, used and rejected an overweight fan only to learn later that she’d starved herself to death. Neiru, the 14yo president of some science company (yup) was attacked by her sister before she jumped off a bridge. Finally Ai, our protagonist, is a victim of bullying who managed to make friends with a single girl, Koito, who then jumped from their school building for unknown reasons. They’re all given the chance to bring these individuals back to life, provided they protect other victims of suicide by defeating the monstrous traumas that drove them to that act in the first place.

And you know what? That concept was great. However, the execution ranges from “Okay, that was pretty good for an anime. Kudos there” to “That’s the most offensive thing I’ve seen in my life.” Needless to say, unpacking all the battles they fight would take a lot more than this already absurd summary. Basically, if you can think of something horrible to happen to young girls (and one trans guy whose existence in that egg undermines the whole message of the episode), there’s an attempt to tackle it here.

During all this the four girls become friends and Ai works through her suspicions about Mr. Sawaki, a teacher at her school. What’s going on with Mr. Sawaki? Uh… everything! He’s somehow connected to Koito’s death, he’s dating Ai’s mom, and Ai apparently loves him too because her friends say so, even though this is never actually addressed and she barely interacts with him. It’s all quite the complication.

In time though the girls complete their “mission” of bringing their loved ones back to life. Rika and Momoe manage it first, only to find that Frill’s bug-girl lackeys have arrived to kill them. Why? Because that’s what Frill does, I guess. Momoe’s crocodile familiar (cute animals the girls were gifted to help them fight) takes a killing blow for her and the bug-lady then proceeds to carve up his corpse and force feed it to Momoe. Fantastic!! Building off of that, the next bug-lady who Rika encounters kills her turtle too, following in the footsteps of her bug-sister by, presumably, forcing her to eat parts of its head. Ai refuses to sacrifice her familiar to stay alive, but luckily the suicide she was protecting turns out to be herself from a parallel universe (that's a thing now!) and she takes the killing blow herself, which is done by pulling out the eye she’s sensitive about (she has heterochromia.) So parallel Ai passes on (again?) and the three girls don’t work through this trauma at all, instead becoming more traumatized through the realization that the loved ones they brought back no longer remember them. They’re alive, but the relationship they all had with them is dead.

It’s about this point that the main storyline wraps up and I’m relieved that there’s an OVA to finish things off. Surely they can somehow bring this all together in 45 minutes.

…25 minutes of that OVA is recap.

So with only about 20 minutes left, we learn that Neiru, the only one to not complete her mission yet, has mysteriously gone missing. It turns out she was an AI/clone/something all along, made to replace her sister and, presumably, that’s what caused the whole stabbing-suicide incident. She successfully brings her sister back, but stays behind in the dream world because Frill promises her she can become human. How is Frill here when she’s dead? How will Neiru become human? Isn’t Frill the “temptation of death” or whatever? There are no answers. A flashback finally reveals that Koito was having a relationship with a teacher at another school, he committed suicide, she transferred, she tried the same thing with Mr. Sawaki, he kept refusing her advances, and finally while threatening suicide to get his attention, she accidentally fell.

(So why was she in the suicide egg if it was an accident??)

Except, all this information comes through Mr. Sawaki himself, there’s a whole subplot about whether he’s really a villain, or if Ai is just making him into one, and this show might as well be titled How Much Pedophilia Can We Put into One Anime? So make of that what you will.

A dead character randomly shows up, but it's fine because she's actually just a version from a parallel world. How did she get here? Why is she here? Lol, it's cute that you think these are answered.

Rika, the character who cuts and almost committed suicide halfway through the show, breaks down saying how much she misses her dead loved ones, right after her friends refused to let her go on another mission that would surely end in her death and… that’s it. That’s all we get about her.

Momoe too, though she’s hopefully just vibing somewhere with that longed-for boyfriend.

Ai transfers schools and then one day randomly remembers that she loves Neiru and rushes back to start cracking eggs again because that will? Somehow?? Let her see Neiru???

When I say there are too many unanswered questions to possibly list here I really, really mean it.

Finally, in a personal attack on me, the protagonist with a name that is literally AI is not in any way an artificial intelligence.

And that’s it! Congratulations, you now “understand” WEP. And see, the funny thing is that the off-the-rails, bat-shit crazy aspects kind of catch you off guard? Yeah, the first episode is fantastic. In fact, I think I got through about six episodes thinking that this was a solid, if at times really messed up anime, but I was willing to shrug off a lot of stuff due solely to the amount of sensitive material they were attempting to cover (which is always quite difficult to do). Probably the only reason I was able to binge so fast was because the first half of the series was so engaging. The characters are charming. The animation is GORGEOUS. There's actually a ton of good here that is also worth yelling about. But then the plot comes in like a freight train and I was left staring dumbfounded at my screen as more and more insanity kept happening. Having watched the "explanations" I am now more confused about the show I just saw.

Phoenix, if you’ve bothered to read this rambling, 3:00am rant: thank you. I think? Idk if I should actually be thanking you or cursing you for tuning me into this, but it was definitely an experience, that’s for sure lol.

I'm off to bed now RIP the chance of having normal dreams ✌️

#mymetas

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Shadows And Pills - 1

Summary: Some people come away from the Battle of New York with scars and broken bones. Some come away with nightmares and years of therapy ahead of them. Some don’t come away at all. Alexa comes away with a shadow.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Warnings: RAPE, Torture, Abuse, Self Harm, Negative Images of Psychological Services/Mental Health Professionals, Hallucinations, Stalking, Supernatural Horror, Prescription Drug Use and Eventual Abuse, Mental Illness, PTSD, Flashbacks of Violence, Flashbacks of Tragedy, Starving Oneself, Isolation, Physical and Mental Exhaustion, Denial, Self Neglect, Gaslighting, Mental Spiraling, Mental and Emotional Abuse

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: This is not a happy story in any sense, at any point. I could only write this at my lowest places, emotionally and mentally speaking, and I had a hard time coming back from it. This is dark, and it does not at any point get lighter. I relied heavily on my own experiences with mental struggles and took a few pieces here and there from my own experiences with mental health professionals. MY EXPERIENCES ARE MY OWN AND ARE NOT TYPICAL, NOT EVEN FOR ME. If you need mental help of any kind, please DO NOT HESITATE TO REACH OUT TO GET IT. This story was an exercise in mental exorcism, in a sense.

For all the Loki lovers out there, I do not shine him anything like a good or redeeming light here. He is evil incarnate, more or less. I love Loki, I love good Loki and redeemed Loki and misunderstood Loki and just about every incarnation thereof. I needed a villain, and he fit the story.

Above all, please be kind. This was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever written, and it took me years to work up the courage to post it. If you have any questions, please feel free to message me or send me an ask.

Thank you to @thoughtslikeaminefield and @glassjacket . I would not have made it through this story and would honestly not be here today with the two of you. I will never be able to tell you how much you mean to me.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Word Count: 1 - 3785; 2 - 3513; 3 - 1068

In Case You Missed It: ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

...

Shadows and Pills

1

Some people come away from the Battle of New York with scars and broken bones. Some come away with nightmares and years of therapy ahead of them. Some don’t come away at all.

Alexa comes away with a shadow.

In the weeks following the disaster, the public equally lauds and decries the Avengers, but while their opinions are divided over the heroes, the villain is universally denounced as nothing short of Satan himself, and the city throws an actual celebration the day Thor takes Loki back to Asgard to face the justice of their people.

Alexa, having not turned on her television since the day she got home from the hospital, ignores the boisterous celebrants and goes about her shopping, earbuds firmly in place, frown lines now permanently etched between her eyes and around her pinched lips.

“Routine will help you through some of the worst days,” her therapist tells her during one session. “Something familiar and safe to retreat to when the flashbacks are the worst. Just give it a try,” he adds at her disbelieving grimace.

And so she sets a routine.

Morning Routine: wake up. Ignore alarm, lie in bed an extra thirty minutes or so. Shower. Pretend to eat breakfast. Take meds (this one she never skips or shirks). Find something to wear. Stare at it for another ten minutes. Eventually get dressed. Contemplate keys for another fifteen minutes. Leave the goddamned apartment already.

Her routine has varying results, although she does admit to her therapist that life is marginally more bearable with the routine than without.

“It’s nice to have something to look forward to for the next day.”

Her therapist can’t quite hide his grimace at her flat, deadened tone, but she’s not being sarcastic or rude. She finds that going to bed at night is a trifle easier when she knows what’s going to happen the next day.

“So, who are we up to today?” the doctor asks, switching the subject with awkward abruptness. It’s been six weeks since Hell came to New York, and during their twice-weekly meetings, her therapist suggests going through each of the people she saw die in front of her that day, to get closure...or say goodbye...or something.

Sometimes Alexa wonders whether he just wants to hear the details for his own perverse pleasure.

“Brenda.”

Alexa robotically begins to list the personal details she knows...knew...about her floor manager. Unlike the mail room intern she discussed at their last meeting, the list for Brenda goes on for a while. She’s worked with Brenda since she started at the company, learning most of what she knows about her current job from the woman.

Brenda was kind, sharply intelligent, and mothering to everyone under her supervision, and yet she did it in a way that didn’t make anyone uncomfortable. She balanced work and a family long and well enough to both receive regular promotions within the company and also, very recently, become a new grandmother.

The backs of Alexa’s eyes sting as she remembers the photo Brenda showed her not twenty minutes before part of the building collapsed on top of half the department. Her jaw locks as the scene plays before her eyes again, the explosions and shrieks of metal drowning out the shrieks of the people only five feet away.

She closes her eyes, but there’s no pause button to freeze the scene, no power button to shut the images off as she turns in her memory and runs, making it to the stairwell and slamming the door open, turning back and screaming for Brenda, straining her eyes through the smoke and dust and mountains of falling debris. Brenda is running, reaching for Alexa even though she seems miles away, and then one of the file cabinets is thrown over, propelled faster and harder than should be possible, and...and…

And then Brenda isn’t running anymore. Her outstretched hand, the only part of her that wasn't crushed by office furniture, spasms against the ruined carpet, as if it thinks it’s reached its destination and is grasping at its savior.

Alexa’s hand tingles, and her fingers lock into her palm, nails fitting easily into the little grooves she dug there weeks ago. No blood, she only dug that deep once, but the furrows remain as permanently etched there as the frown lines on her face.

Alexa struggles to take in a labored breath as her therapist watches her with the appropriate amount of professional, clinical sympathy and detachment.

“Do your counting,” he reminds her.

How could she forget? She counts to three once, letting a breath out at the end. She repeats the process twice more, ignoring her therapist’s brief flash of annoyance at her departure from his “system.” But, for once, he doesn’t ask her why she has to deviate from the standard one-to-ten method and just lets her do the goddamned counting in peace.

Small blessings.

“Have you had any flashbacks since our last session?”

She stares at him, letting her gaze rest heavy and disbelieving as she turns his question over. She’s been averaging about five flashbacks a day, triggered by everything from accidentally brushing a stranger on the sidewalk (Jim knocking past her to get down the stairs just as the door on the stairwell behind her explodes inward; more shrieking, then falling, then dark) to lifting a carton of cold milk from the shelf at the grocery (that impossibly cold hand grasping hers, pulling her up from the rubble, bringing her face to face with...something...something in the...shadows, it was so dark there, and…).

“Yeah. I’ve had some flashbacks since our last session.”

“What sort of coping strategies did you use?”

He’s not even meeting her eyes now, just getting notes down on that damned pad. The scratching of his pen grates into her bones, and Alexa grits her teeth as she glares.

One, two, three.

Breathe.

One, two, three.

Breathe.

One, two, three.

Breathe.

She slowly recites the list of strategies he suggested during a previous session, none of which have proven particularly effective at lessening the frequency of the episodes, but most of which she grudgingly admits provide some slight relief afterwards and allow her to refocus her mind on the present rather than dwelling in the memory.

“And the shadows?”

How can he get this wrong every time when he’s taking all those fucking notes?

“Still just the one.”

“Has it manifested in any other way? Asked you to do anything? Do you feel different in any way when you notice it?”

There’s a distasteful eagerness to his words that always turns Alexa’s stomach, and she has to physically bite into her tongue to keep from asking what kind of bonus he gets for each symptom she shows of different mental illnesses.

“It’s just there sometimes. I..” She hesitates, feeling vaguely nauseated from his questions, but she has to be honest, right? Because, ultimately, it’s his job to help her, and she’s never going to get through this by hiding symptoms. He can’t help fix her if he doesn’t know what’s broken, and he did suggest the routine, so, okay, he gets a pass for this one.

“I still mostly only see it before I’m falling asleep. I’ve started seeing it in the late afternoon, as well, not often, but sometimes. Always in shadows that are already there. It doesn’t talk or anything, doesn’t really have any face or form except for vaguely person-shaped, but it...it watches me. And it’s...denser than it was last week. More...it’s thicker than it was, like when you see wispy clouds kind of...gather and turn into storm clouds?”

He nods, his pen whizzing over the legal pad he records their session notes on. “So, you feel threatened by the shadow? Like it’s storm clouds gathering to...what? It feels menacing?”

But, like most of the questions Alexa fences in this office, this one isn’t easily answered.

“It feels like it’s watching me, waiting for something. I don’t know what. I don’t...I don’t know if it’s menacing, exactly. Like, it feels potentially dangerous, but I can’t tell if it’s for me. I don’t know. It’s just...darker and more there this week, but it doesn’t do anything, and I don’t feel different, and it doesn’t speak to me. I. Don’t. Hear. Voices.”

She clips off each word at the end of her rant separately and precisely, repeating her counting in her head, and she forces her breathing to even out. The doctor is just doing his job, he’s just trying to help, he’s supposed to ask these questions, it’s how he helps-

“Hmm. I’ll have to consider that between now and our next meeting. In the meantime, go ahead and move up to the next dosage step with your meds, keep it on the escalating schedule we set.”

You set, she thinks mutinously for a moment before internally shaking her head. She nods, biting her tongue once more. She’s going to have a permanent indentation there as well, at this rate.

“Any side effects? Itching, swelling, difficulty breathing? Any unreasonable lethargy or detachment?”

“I mean...I don’t really have anything to attach to at this point, so…”

He frowns at her again, and she wonders if he’s going to crank up her dosage two notches instead of one.

“Are you having what you feel are typical emotional responses to everyday stimuli? Have you laughed or smiled at anything yet? How long has it been since you emotionally felt anything besides the frustration and panic?”

And, somehow, this question is difficult, too. She struggles through, trying to find a balance between honesty and not making herself look like a complete failure who can't function in life. She doesn’t help her case when she admits she hasn’t followed many of his suggestions beyond establishing a routine.

“Not even exercising?” he asks, his disappointment palpable.

When she silently shakes her head, her lips pinched tight against his disapproval, he shakes his head with a sigh that sings of ultimate betrayal. Instead of berating her as usual, the doctor frowns and looks down at his notes, considering them silently. He clicks his tongue against his teeth for a moment before switching over to end-session mode, robotically delivering his closing remarks, his typical reminders to keep her meds on a strict schedule at the exact time every day, to avoid all alcohol and unprescribed drugs, to keep her diet as clean and unprocessed as possible, and to get plenty of exercise. Even this last bit is delivered with a sharply clinical detachment, as if she has driven him to the brink of her own psychoses by stubbornly refusing to accept his help.

There is a short, silent moment between them where they refuse to look at each other, the doctor perusing his notes once more while Alexa examines the wrinkles creased into her jeans from lack of folding. The doctor flips pages over in his legal pad and slaps the cover shut sharply, breaking the standoff with one last, dismissive comment.

“Routine, Alexa. Stick to the routine. If it’s what brings you comfort, if that's the one thing you’re taking away from these sessions that actually helps, then stick with it. I’ll see you Thursday afternoon.”

….

Her afternoons vary, according to her therapy schedule. Her sessions take roughly an hour and a half, so that’s one block of time she doesn’t have to try and fill. On the days she isn’t having her skull cracked open, she can sometimes force herself to work on the files her company sends her way. Grunt work, brainless stuff that any first-year intern could do, but it keeps her on the payroll and covered by health insurance until the doctor clears her to return to the office.

Not that there’s an office to return to yet.

Grocery shopping for food she’ll pretend to eat later, making excuses to stay out of the apartment a little longer each day, watching the shadows of the buildings grow darker and longer until the sunlight disappears from the streets.

And the other shadow, the darkest of all, thick and solid against the brick and stone, pacing her, keeping track as she wanders through the broken city blocks. Sometimes she walks a little faster, pretends to not notice the black spot. Sometimes she pretends it’s keeping her company. With the most conversation she’s had in weeks taking place in her therapy sessions, she occasionally finds the imaginary company of her shadow stalker to be more pleasant than menacing.

Occasionally.

Eventually, though, she and her chimerical companion head back to the silent, encroaching walls of her apartment to begin the night routine.

…

Night Routine: laundry. Pretend to eat dinner. Shower. Finish laundry. Clean already clean kitchen. Another shower (on the bad days, the ash and debris won’t wash off). Rearrange already arranged closet. Braid hair. Take meds, do not skip, no matter how much they screw up her sleep, because they help. They do. Settle into bed. Stare at the wall. Adjust pillows. Re-settle. Stare at the shadow. Start to drift off, slide into a flashback, scream back to full consciousness. Watch the shadow. Doze. Awaken from a fucked up nightmare she can only partially remember. Repeat ad nauseum.

Really, if Alexa could just skip the nights and go straight into morning, that’d be great. Mornings are tedious but tolerable. Afternoons are blurry and tense, especially therapy days, but nights…

Nights just won't shut down.

The drugs are partially responsible, the doctor has told her multiple times. The medicine can either make sleeping more difficult, or it can act like a sedative, dragging and holding her down. Honestly, she’s getting kind of mixed results. It’s difficult to stay awake, easy to slip under, but then she can’t stay asleep for very long, jerking back to consciousness in something close to full panic, unable to figure out if it’s the drugs or the dreams that’s pushing her to the edge.

Because the fucked up dreams...well, that’s all on her and her broken brain. She stopped bringing up the dreams in therapy after the first couple of weeks of sessions. The doctor seemed hell bent on steering Alexa towards the possibility that she was experiencing waking hallucinations, but there’s no way she could possibly be awake for all this shit. Maybe some of the flashbacks, but not…

Not…

Her brain isn’t that broken.

No. No, she can tell from the way she jerks to consciousness afterwards, she knows she’s asleep. Yeah, she’s unstable and has flashbacks, but she’s not delusional. They’re dreams.

Every night.

About…

Something.

Okay, sometimes she can remember. Sometimes the meds dull her down so much she forgets what day it is, but sometimes she can hold on to a detail or two. Cold, slender fingers, impossibly strong. A flash of bright blue that sends nausea racing through her entire body (who knew your toes could feel nauseated?) or a glimpse of bottle green that, conversely, thrills her to her soul. A smooth, velvet voice that penetrates every layer of her being, down to the deepest recesses. Darkness descending...a sense of dreadful awe…

And sometimes she can remember every unhinged detail with a terrifying clarity that she will never even consider mentioning to the therapist. Not if she likes her jacket sleeves to fit properly.

There’s honesty, and then there’s idiocy.

The shadow is larger tonight. Taller, a little broader, definitely denser. She would say looming, even, but it’s not quite that large.

Not quite.

She stares at it openly, no longer trying to avoid acknowledging its presence. What's the point? The doctor knows about it, and it’s not like she’s talking to it. She’s not that far gone yet. And she hasn't lied to the doctor, either. The shadow does watch her, like it’s waiting, gathering. Convalescing. But it hasn't ever talked to her.

She does not hear voices.

She yawns and rolls her shoulders, left then right, sliding a little lower in bed, searching for a cooler place between the sheets. Movement catches her eye, and she looks up as the shadow shifts, leaning left then right, and seems to…

Grow?

No, it’s never moved before. She’s pretty sure she’s never seen it move, but now it pulses and raises up, stretching-

No. No. Sourceless shadows don’t move. They don’t grow, they don’t shift, they don’t-

The shadow stretches upwards abruptly, definitely looming now, and Alexa hits the wall behind the bed, scrambling backwards in a blind panic as she realizes the shadow isn’t growing.

It’s coming closer.

Her breathing speeds up, but her limbs are heavy and dull with narcotic stupor. The foot of her bed darkens as the shadow creeps even closer, and she opens her mouth to protest, to scream, to say something, but her tongue is numb and stupid with the acrid, coppery tang of fear and pharmaceuticals, and she hates, hates this kind of dream where she can’t speak, can't move and she can barely breathe, and...and…

The shadow reaches out, stretches over her foot and slides up her calf in a clammy, viscous caress that tightens on her knee and pulls her several inches down the bed as her throat closes.

Do not shrink from Me. It is not your fear I crave, but your adoration. Come to Me, allow yourself to move past the fear and embrace what I wish to grant you.

Horror, deep and instinctual, floods her veins. Alexa feels the voice more than hears it, and it awakens an ancient fear that finally, though futilely, awakens her drugged limbs. She claws at her sheets uselessly as the shadow moves over her, a freezing oil slick that oozes against her skin as if her blankets and clothes weren’t even there, sending shivers to the very marrow of her bones as her gorge rises, and she chokes on the bile that singes the back of her throat. She can’t fight, can’t move against this intangible force, but neither will her terror let her sink past the fear to blissful unawareness.

Give over. Let go of your stubborn fear that tethers you to this useless reality. Allow Me entrance, and I will grant you the relief you seek. Release your grip on the world that cares nothing for you, and I shall bestow upon you the peace you so desperately crave.

Her skin raises in gooseflesh everywhere the shadow crosses, and her stomach turns as it squeezes its way up her torso, her chest, her throat, slipping over her lips in a sick parody of a lover’s caress. She opens her mouth - to scream, to breathe, to do something - and the shadow plunges inwards, invading her mouth, her throat, coating her inside and out with a thick, glutinous sensation that leaves her mouth hanging obscenely open, tongue thrashing, while her mind screams useless denials.

Submit to Me what you see I can easily take, give Me My due. Give over, drown in Me, and I will save you from this miserable existence.

And she is drowning, the air pressed from her lungs as a dark heaviness settles solidly over her. Her arms are forced over her head, and she is strung out on her twisted sheets, writhing under the weight of the shadow as it presses over every surface, against every entrance. No matter how she strains, her legs are gradually forced apart. The darkness’s lack of speed is affected, some barely functioning bit of her brain whispers to her; it could take her as swiftly as it cares to and is only moving slowly because it wants her to suffer, wants to taste her anguish. She has no chance against the shadow, she can’t even touch it, really she could just save herself the anxiety and fear and just-

NO.

She twists as hard as she can, but the shadow simply moves with her, flows over her, waits until she takes another breath, and then surges between her thighs, driving her torso off the bed with the force of its thrust. Every cell in her body locks, not in pain, but in complete revulsion. And then again, and again, cruel in the thoroughness of its violation, covering and saturating every crevice of her being, coating and tainting everything it touches.

Wrong, can't...stop, stop, stop, wrong, can’t...God, please…

You cannot rely on yourself, on your own mind for proper guidance. Let Me protect you. Let Me save you from yourself.

How long...minutes...hours...years...just stop, please…please-

The alarm clock shrieks right in her goddamned ear, and she can breathe and move and scream and goddammit, she fucking hates those dreams that send her careening onto the floor, scrambling for cover when she can’t even remember what she's running from.

Her morning routine is already in shambles. There’s no ignoring the alarm clock today. A morning shower maybe, to wash off the sticky aftermath of night sweats, definitely, but no lying about, staring at the walls in a sleep-daze. Definitely washing the sheets tonight, too.

She surveys what she can see of her bed from her crumpled position on the floor in front of the closet and sighs. Must’ve been a hell of a nightmare to tear up the covers that badly. She thinks for a moment of trying a little harder to remember, to recall some piece of the dream, but then her stomach flips over, and she summarily rejects that idea in favor of caffeination and medication.

She allows herself another few minutes on the floor, waiting until her respiratory and heart rates return to a less alarming pace before climbing to her quivering knees. The shadow darkens the far corner of the room, as innocuous as always. Though she doesn’t know why, she can’t help an involuntary flinch when she first sees it. It’s not normally present in the morning, at least, she doesn’t think so...well, she can't remember the shadow being so dark in the mornings, at least. But...

She clears her throat against the thickness that seems to coat it suddenly, and readjusts her plan to include a glass of water before she starts in on the coffee. She realizes after another long moment of staring that her hands are trembling along with her legs. Her jaw clenches, and she knows she’s being ridiculous. It’s a damned shadow. It just sits there. It’s a minor manifestation of a mild psychosis secondary to major psychological trauma. It’s just a damned dark spot; it doesn’t change, doesn't want her to do anything, and it definitely doesn’t fucking talk to her.

She. Does. Not. Hear. Voices.

…

Up Now: 2

#mcu #mcu fic #loki #dark loki #rape #torture #abust #self harm #negative portrayal of psychological services #negative portrayal of mental health professional #hallucinations #stalking #supernatural horror #prescription drug use #prescription drug abuse #mental illness #ptsd #flashbacks of violence #gaslighting #physical and mental exhaustion #denial #self neglect #isolation #mental spiraling #mental abuse #emotional abuse #original chracter #original female character

[joontella]

achromatic.

Yandere!Kim Namjoon x Female Reader

Word Count: 11.1k

Genre(s):  Angst, Slight Fluff, (HORRIBLY WRITTEN) Smut

Trigger Warning(s): Mentions of religion or lack thereof, blood, murder, idk how the human body works, (unknown) consumption of blood, manipulation, stalking, male masturbation (again, horribly written), Namjoon is an asshole, and musical terms because i play music rip, minor character death, slight gore. it gets really shitty towards the end. i’m sorry

Merry Merry! It’s Peppermint! Your gift is finally here, @exhausted-joy​! I’m sorry for the wait. I had to make sure that it was perfect. This is my first time doing this, and I really wanted to give it my all. Please forgive me, and thank you for putting up with my antics in the server. I hope you enjoy it!

I also want to thank Saniya (@smeraldos-blog), Mari (@joheun-saram), Hannah (@spicykoreantatertots), Ley (@pars-ley​), Avery (@ksmuttherapy​), and everyone else who tolerated and/or helped me out! I love you all and thank you so much for the help and support! I’m so happy to have met you all!

ach·ro·mat·ic /akrəˈmadik/

adjective

without color.

“Damn. There goes my chance of starting my winter break with a passing grade.” One woman groaned.

“What the hell are you talking about? You have a solid ‘C’! I’m literally failing everything!” Her friend responded, as her arms waved in a cartoonish rendition of exasperation. “And whose fault is that?” “Not mine! This semester was nothing but a months-long depressive episode. How could I focus with everything that’s going on?”

He so desperately wishes that they would shut up, or at the very least, take their obnoxiously loud conversation elsewhere. Namjoon twirled the ink pen in his hand with a practiced precision only years of being hunched over paperwork could provide. However, those were nothing but pipe dreams as the two students turned their attention over to him. “There’s Kim Namjoon! He’s had the top spot for years now, way before he was enrolled here.” One began babbling quite loudly whilst pointing to the man in question. “I bet he came out of the womb with high marks. I heard that he scored in the 99th percentile for his newborn screening tests.” The other swooned in response to her own musings.

Obviously, these two were much more idiotic than he had originally thought. It didn’t take an expert to read his body language: the way that he twirled his pen faster, as if that could speed up the agonizing conversation he was being forced to bear witness to; the way his jaw clenched so tightly that it could easily break a metal wire; and the position his shoulders held, resembling an animal coiling in preparation to strike or flee. He pleaded to gods he didn’t even believe in for the duo to be quickly eradicated with a swift strike of lightning. According to the calculations he made swiftly in his head, the chances of something like that happening were infinitesimally small. How unfortunate.

Deciding that the best course of action to take would be to leave the two neanderthals to their devices, Namjoon did just that. He quickly snapped his book shut with one hand and a loud, meaningful clap as the pages suddenly collided with each other. If that didn’t make the nuisances jump in surprise, his words would.

“Although I’m a source of inspiration and wonder to many, it’s degrading to hear someone so openly refer to me in a way that one would to an exotic zoo animal,” He began. Namjoon’s tone was cool and even, carrying an air of regality all the while retaining a bitter edge of contempt and disdain for both the conversation and the mere existence of the two original party members. 

Finally, the two felt the brunt of the consequences their crimes on Namjoon’s ears had to offer. They both visibly wilted, reminding the tall man of his mother’s daisies being roasted and withering under the dry summer heat. Normally, this would have been more than enough to diffuse the situation and lift him of his auditory burden. However, his heart ached for more. His brain so desperately yearned for more stimulation and a rush of dopamine.

He decided to twist the knife, so to speak.

“Also, you too could rise to the top.” Namjoon said as he began to turn away.

Out of his peripheral vision, he could see the two wilted flowers gain new life and their faces brighten with newfound hope. The loudest of the two even had the audacity to whimper a pathetically optimistic, “Really?”

Twist. Twist. Twist!

“Of course~.” Namjoon purred, deciding to turn to face his victims’ satisfying demise. His heart threatened to beat in double time in anticipation.

Although their anxiously awaiting smiles made his stomach turn, he couldn’t deny the mirth swirling alongside the disgust in his belly.

“First off, instead of blaming your inadequacies solely on the tumultuous events of this year, take responsibility for your shortcomings. Only children avoid blaming themselves.”

He could hear the glass shattering as their faces fell in a tandem that most would find heartbreaking. He found it utterly amusing. Now, he would take his leave. After receiving the reaction he desired and more, Namjoon wanted nothing more than to leave the duo to stew in their humiliation. Yet, one last thing lingered. He had yet to land the finishing blow that would ensure that he wouldn’t be bothered by these two pieces of scum ever again.

Twist. Twist! TWIST!

“Before I forget, avoid talking so loudly. As you may or may not have noticed, I was trying to study. You know, one of the things that facilitates good grades? I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but your incessant bantering made it increasingly difficult to do so. Might I suggest that you follow my example and do the same? Maybe then, one day, you could take my place at the top.”

Namjoon wasn’t even facing them anymore. His back was to the two women, further solidifying his dismissal of them. With a simple and curt wave of his hand, he simply uttered,

“Ladies.”

And he was on his way.

“Exam results will be posted this afternoon. I trust that you all scored high enough marks to keep our university in high regard.” Your professor droned from the front of the lecture hall. “I know that many of you despise the fact that a standardized test is still administered in college, but so far, it is the only way to ensure that Mugunghwa National Academy is churning out bright students worthy enough to contribute to society!”

The students in question couldn’t care less about their scores or the school’s prestige. All they were worried about was getting the hell out of there after two hours of examination and stifling silence. They all stood from their seats and slung their bags across their bodies. A disgruntled murmur rang throughout. Quite frankly, you were no different.

As you hugged your notebook close to your body, your professor stopped you as you reached the lecture hall door.

“Ah, Miss (L/N). A word, please.”

Surprised, you let out a soft, “Sure.” and walked over to the podium where your professor started to neatly stack and organize his papers.

“As you know, Miss (L/N), you are one of the two best students we’ve had at this academy recently.”

You shifted your weight awkwardly at the sudden praise. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you began to speak. “I mean, I guess? I wouldn’t go that far, but I suppose that records and the numbers do suggest that I’m performing quite well.” Your professor scowled at your response. You were a bright young woman. You deserved to flaunt it and soak up the praise every once in a while, right? He folded his arms and sighed deeply causing your brain to go into overdrive on how you could rectify the situation. “While pride does come short of a fall, you should learn to take compliments when they’re given, (Y/N). I promise you that you won’t become an egomaniac anytime soon as a result.” He said gently, causing your nerves to subside. Right. Maybe you should just accept compliments. A little self esteem boost never hurt anybody, right? “Thank you, professor, but may I ask why you’re telling me this?” You asked, trying to move the conversation along as politely as you could. You had an hour before you were due to go to the college’s radio station and prepare for this evening’s broadcast. Hopefully, your professor would get to the point so you could quickly grab a bite to eat before you started airing.

“Oh yes, of course! I’m sorry! I said all this to tell you that I have your exam results already. Seeing as how you are the brightest in your class, you finished early, giving me enough time to grade yours while your peers were working. I think that you’ll find the results to your liking, Miss (L/N).” He grinned, handing you a white manila envelope with the school’s insignia printed on the front.

You quirked a brow and opened it. You were then greeted by the name of the school, its motto, and yet another print of the school emblem on the header. Your (E/C) eyes scanned the page until you found what you were looking for:

𝑴𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒘𝒂 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝑨𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎 

𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆: (𝑳/𝑵), (𝒀/𝑵) 

𝑴𝒂𝒋𝒐𝒓: 𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒎 

𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎: 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 21 

𝑺𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆: 98/100 

𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒌:

1 𝒐𝒇 300

You stood there, dumbfounded. The paper you once held gingerly and timidly was wrinkling and threatening to tear under your now iron grip. You were now number one. Somehow, some way, you managed to best Kim Namjoon. Mugunghwa’s already carefully balanced and fragile ecosystem was crumbling around you. What have you done?

“I take it that you’re in shock. I’ll leave you alone to celebrate.” Your professor said smoothly as he slung his coat over his shoulder. “Congratulations, (Y/N). Please enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Uh huh… Will do…” You uttered dumbly.

Mugunghwa National Academy ran on strict rules, but most of them were unspoken. For the sake of your sanity and that of the rest of the student body (and let’s face it, staff, too), you intended to follow those sacred and silent rules to the letter.

Rule Number One: Don’t look in the janitor’s closet near the athletics facilities. You may not come out the same way as you came in.

Rule Number Two: If the cafeteria serves meatloaf, avoid it at all costs. Only eat it if you want to get sick and purposely miss class.

Rule Number Three: Kim Namjoon is the best at everything. He is to be number one until Hell freezes over.

Rule Number Four: In order to keep peace and balance between the nations, (Y/N) (L/N) must always come in second. This is the natural order of things.

You were content with being in second place. To be frank, you preferred to leave the pomp and circumstance of being the top dog to Namjoon. He was more equipped to bear the burden, after all. Besides, it wasn’t like your future career was depending on you being the best. You could skate by with a silver medal and leave Namjoon with the gold. You preferred the look of silver, anyway.

Now look at what you've done. There’s no doubt that the records have been updated by now. Your professor did grade yours early, and it’s reasonable to assume that Namjoon’s was as well. You’d inadvertently torn a hole in the gossamer fabric that was Mugunghwa National Academy. With one exam, you signed the collective death certificate of every other person besides Kim Namjoon himself. 

May God have mercy on your wretched soul.

“Young Master, your father would like to have a word with you in his study.” The head butler of the Kim mansion stated simply.

For the second time that day, Namjoon clenched his jaw tightly. He shrugged off his coat and handed it to the older gentleman who was automatically waiting at his side to collect the article of clothing. He hadn’t even gotten through the door and already his father wanted to speak with him. This didn’t bode well.

“Seokjin, did he mention why he’d want to see me?” Namjoon asked dryly. Seokjin simply shook his head and hung his coat on the nearby rack. 

“He only mentioned that it was urgent, so I suggest that it would be in your best interest to make it there expeditiously.”

This certainly did not bode well. Kim Joonho was a man of few words. Most would say that he’s the very definition of “actions speak louder than words”. Whenever the CEO of Kim Industries did something, people watched in equal parts starstruck awe and fear. However, when the CEO of Kim Industries deemed something important enough to speak on, there was no choice in the matter. You either listened intently or you perished in more ways than one. This was no different for Joonho’s family. In fact, he was worse to them. Working under the guise of caring for his family, Joonho was more stoic to his wife and children.

Regardless of his debatably righteous intentions, it sent the Kim family into delicately managed dysfunction. Simply put, Kim Joonho never spoke to Namjoon out of wishing to connect with his son on a more personal level. Namjoon was the next heir to Kim Industries. Being his son was an unfortunate side effect.

“Sir, I know that I did implore you to hurry, but-”

“What?” Namjoon growled. His nerves were shot to shit today. Anything that impeded his meeting with his father and his goal to quickly get it over with was met with hostility.

Seeming to understand this, Seokjin cleared his throat and motioned a gloved hand towards the mansion’s threshold.

“You know better than to walk in the house with your shoes still on,” The Kim butler began smoothly as he made his way over to Namjoon to collect his shoes. “I do understand that you are upset, but you shouldn’t let your emotions cloud your judgement so drastically that you forget such basic cultural conventions.”

Namjoon sighed sharply and bit back a retort that was bubbling in his throat. Arguing with Seokjin was pointless. As per usual, he was correct. Engaging in such petty conflicts would only worsen things.

“Right. I suppose I was quite hasty. Thank you.” Namjoon sighed whilst peeling off his shoes.

“I do believe that an apology is in order, Young Master.”

Namjoon was already halfway across the foyer, about to ascend the grand staircase leading to the upper floors when Seokjin’s cheeky remark reached his ears. He felt his blood begin to simmer in his veins and his muscles stiffen.

“The fact that I haven’t fired you by now and ruined any chances of you gaining any further employment should be enough of an apology. You’re treading on thin ice, Seokjin. Remember your place in this world.”

With that, he continued his journey to the final boss room within the Kim family mansion: his father’s study. The last he heard of Seokjin was a sly chuckle and the clicking of his polished leather shoes against the floor. Staff were not guests. Therefore, they were not allowed the privilege of removing their shoes. They were expendable. They needn’t get too comfortable.

Despite how much he detested it, Namjoon couldn’t deny that cold chill of anxiety that frosted his entire body. His father never wanted to talk to him. Ever. He could count on his hands the times that Joonho requested his presence. He could count on only one hand how many times Joonho requested his presence to celebrate his son’s successes. Their relationship was solely professional. There was no love to be found, no matter how hard you read between the lines. Even in as high of a position as Namjoon is in, he is still subservient to his father.

That’s the natural order of things.

“Come in, Namjoon.” Joonho’s voice rang from behind the large mahogany doors.

Almost cartoonishly, the hinges squeaked like Namjoon was uncovering the entrance to a haunted crypt. Namjoon decided long ago that was an eerily apt way of describing his father’s study.

Naturally, Namjoon obeyed his father and entered the room. Dead center, there sat Kim Joonho on his throne. Sitting with perfect posture behind the large oak desk, Joonho stared his son down with cold eyes filled with disdain. How Namjoon desperately wished he could gouge them out with his father’s prized letter opener.

“Don’t waste my time. Have a seat. I don’t have all day.” Joonho snapped.

“Of course. How are you today, father?”

The CEO’s eyes narrowed at his son’s inquiry. “Spare me the niceties, boy. Sit down. We have business to discuss.”

Before Namjoon could interject, Joonho was already reaching into a drawer and produced a white manila envelope. Upon closer inspection, one could see Mugunghwa National Academy’s insignia emblazoned on the front. Once Namjoon was properly seated, he reached out and grabbed the parcel.

“May I ask what this is?” “You may not. You have eyes, boy. Read it for yourself.”

The frigid chill of anxiety was soon being replaced with the molten heat of fury. Some tiny part of Namjoon’s mind was concerned that he would develop a fever at the sudden and constant shifts in his body temperature. That wouldn’t do. He couldn’t afford for his health to decline. That would be another thing for his father to berate him for.

“Of course. My apologies, father.” Namjoon whispered as he undid the envelope’s fastening. Once he did so, he pulled the paper out with an air of nonchalance. Surely, it must have been another letter from the school to congratulate him on some academic achievement he didn’t even realize existed. However, in his eyes and in the eyes of his father, it was the exact opposite.

 𝑴𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒘𝒂 𝑵𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝑨𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎 

 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆: 𝑲𝒊𝒎, 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏 

 𝑴𝒂𝒋𝒐𝒓: 𝑩𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 

𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓(𝒔): 𝑩𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚, 𝑬𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 

 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎: 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 21 

 𝑺𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒆: 96/100 

 𝑪𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒌: 2 𝒐𝒇 300

For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon’s world fell apart before his very eyes. Suddenly the sturdy and imposing columns holding up the large study appeared to crumble around him. The fire that crackled in the fireplace was reduced to nothing but pathetic cinders. He felt the ground split beneath his feet and his father… His father grew to a monstrous size in comparison to his surroundings, suddenly hunched over his son in preparation to strike.

“This must be some mistake! The results must have gotten mixed up! I-”

“Enough!” Joonho boomed. He swiftly slammed his hand down on his desk, successfully frightening his son into silence. “Only children avoid blaming themselves. I thought I taught you to accept responsibility! How dare you blame your inadequacies on the people who made them apparent?!”

Namjoon clenched his fists tightly in his lap and pushed down the urge to go through on his original plan of plucking his father’s eyeballs out.

“Can’t you see? Whoever graded my exam was clearly incompetent. If they had a brain stem, they would know that I am only capable of producing top-class work! Just like you should not be blamed for one measly employee’s mistake, I should not be blamed for the mistake of someone beneath me!” Namjoon exclaimed. Once he finished his spiel, he found himself standing up, but he didn’t remember willing his muscles to do so.

“This entire conversation is pointless. It’s inefficient at best and mind-numbing at its worst! For someone who values time and money more than his own family, I find it quite curious that you’re willing to waste both so frivolously.”

Now, it was Joonho’s turn to clench his jaw and his fists. Despite the utter disdain he felt for the situation, the patriarch had to admit the merit in his son’s retort. His pride would never let him express the sliver of admiration that stirred within him at Namjoon’s courageous display.

Nobody dared talk back to Kim Joonho. That was the natural order of things.

“Regardless of who’s truly at fault, find this (Y/N) (L/N). She usurped your throne, Namjoon. She deserves to be punished for her transgression.”

“Of course. She’s public enemy number one, but she won’t be number one ever again.”

With that, the young master of the Kim household turned his back on the old master and shut the door to the crypt behind him.

“Aaaaaand now, we’re back after our break!” Your co-host chirped from beside you.

The red on-air sign glowed warmly overhead, creating a sense of coziness and heat in the otherwise cold station. You wrapped your cardigan closer around you before adjusting your mic.

“And we’re about to go into our winter break soon. How fitting!” You posited, trying to match your co-host’s energy.

“That’s right! Mugunghwa exams are finally over, and the scores and ranks have already been updated for some! Care to talk about that, (Y/N)?” Taehyung, your co-host, wiggled his sharp eyebrows in his quest to prod for information.

Normally, his rectangular grin and bright eyes would warm your heart. Today, however, you wanted to punch that devilish smirk right off of him. You should have known that Tae would have suddenly caught wind of your latest academic achievement. He’s the university’s most involved (read: nosiest) student. 

“Not really… But you won’t shut up until I do, so…” You sighed as you spun around in your swivel chair. Once you stopped your cycle, you scooted closer to the microphone and cleared your throat. “I got a 98 on the exam. My professor stopped me after class and told me the news.”

Not that anyone but you and the sound director, Yoongi, would see it, but Taehyung’s impish smile turned into a disappointed pout. “Ah, listen to our (Y/N). Always dodging the important questions. Such a tease!”

You shoved him gently and laughed at his comment before shaking your head. “This guy… To everyone who dreams of dating him, work with him first. You’ll see how much of a horrible person he is.”

“Yah! That’s slander! Aren’t journalists supposed to avoid that?”

“I’ll kick your ass.” You licked your lips and began to answer the original question in further detail. “Yeah, so… Anyway, I got a 98 and I guess that warranted me becoming number one…?”

Both Taehyung and Yoongi’s faces dropped. From his booth, you could see Yoongi grimace and in your peripheral, you saw Tae stiffen.

“Up next is Still With You by our resident golden boy Jeon Jungkook. We’ll be back soon. Stay tuned.” 

Suddenly, the on-air sign was turned off. The song began to play and Taehyung immediately gripped your shoulders.

“You what?!” Taehyung nearly screeched. “(Y/N), do you have any idea what this means?!” “That I took Kim Namjoon’s place and sent the fragile society of Mugunghwa into ruin? Yeah, I do.” Tae blinked for a moment. “No… Although, that does make sense. That seems way more important than what I was gonna say. Huh.”

You were actually going to punch the shit out of him. “Dude, what?”

“Listen, this is your chance! You can finally get recognized as the top-tier person that you are! As long as you were under Kim’s big, goofy shadow, you were going to be pushed aside! Now you can show everyone here how cool you are!”

You felt your throat tighten. That all-too-familiar sensation of a goose egg being lodged in your esophagus rose. You were going to cry. How you desperately wished that you could view the world like Taehyung did. How you longed to see the silver lining of every situation just like he did. All you saw was destruction and despair. All you felt was guilt for damning the entire student body to some cruel fate that only Kim Namjoon could dish out.

“Tae, I love you, but you don’t fucking get it! I’m screwed! We’re all screwed! I broke two of the sacred rules of this school! Kim Namjoon must always be first! I must always be second! I just sentenced everyone to death!”

Taehyung raised a brow, as if what you were saying were the incoherent ramblings of a mad woman. “You describe my cousin like he’s some heinous demon.” Even the usually passive Yoongi had to straighten his spine and widen his eyes at this revelation.

“He’s your cousin?!”

Tae leaned back in his seat with yet another smirk. This time, you couldn’t put a finger on the emotion this specific lift of his lips held. “Isn’t the resemblance obvious? The Kim line has some strong genes. It’s been that way since the Joseon era, I’ve been told.”

Ignoring the historical implications for why such strong genes would still be present thousands of years later (assuming that Taehyung was actually serious), you hurried the conversation along. Jungkook’s silky voice had faded away a while ago, leaving the two of you with little to no time left before it was time to open the floor to callers. This was your last chance to get some useful information about Namjoon before you were dragged into what you knew was going to be a relentless storm of phone calls and incredulous screeches at the news.

Like you had said before, you’d damned everyone. Who wouldn’t want to yell at the person that had the audacity to send an entire population into ruin?

“Get to the point, Taehyung. You’re telling me that you’re related to Satan himself? And I’ve been your co-host for how long?!” You near screeched.

Tae’s ambiguous smirk was now replaced with a blank expression. “I didn’t think it mattered, (Y/N). Why does it even matter now? If there’s a bigger issue here, I think you’re dodging it.”

You froze. He was right. For as long as you knew him, Taehyung had this uncanny ability to pick people apart and leave them vulnerable in an instant. This was especially effective on you, you’ve come to realize. The funny thing was that you hadn’t realized that you were employing tactics to postpone the inevitable inundation of accusatory and furious phone calls being thrown your way. Deep down, you always hated confrontation. Until Taehyung uttered those words, you hadn’t realized how deep that hatred and aversion was ingrained.

“Damn. You’re...good… I guess I am avoiding things. Let’s just get this over with. If we hold it off any longer, things will get worse.” You muttered as you looked towards Yoongi’s booth, motioning for him to put you both back on air.

Taehyung placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and flashed his signature boxy smile. “You don’t even know what they’re going to say. Who knows? News of your latest accomplishment may have brought the (Y/N) (L/N) Official Fanclub out of hiding. I bet that there are going to be several callers professing their undying love for you!”

“Their what now?” You asked dumbly.

Taehyung placed a hand on his heart and slipped into a persona reminiscent of the male protagonist of one the many romance dramas that were plastered on television nowadays. His deep voice rumbled the soundproof padding on the walls and wrapped you in its velvety embrace.

“(Y/N), I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I’ve struggled with these emotions for so long, but news of your success has given me the courage to confess them. I can’t quite make heads or tails of them, but I want to explore them all with you…” Not that anyone but you and Yoongi could see the exchange, but Taehyung gently cupped your chin with his large hand and looked longingly into your eyes. “That is, if you’d let me.”

Silence. Then raucous laughter from you and Taehyung. (Yoongi was visibly cringing in his booth.) You expected nothing less from the theater major, but you couldn’t help the delicate fluttering that began in your stomach. Was this the fabled Taehyung Effect at work? The two of you turned to your microphones and opened the floor to callers, as per usual for this segment of your show. What was highly unusual, however, was the heartfelt “confession” that was unwittingly broadcasted to everyone tuned in. Unbeknownst to everyone, the red on-air sign shone above your heads, serving as a beacon or perhaps an unfortunately ignored warning. A warning that your lighthearted joke wasn’t going to be a joke to some.

A warning that the harbinger of doom himself was listening in… A warning that he had now collected leverage over his new enemy… A warning that he was going to destroy you, even if he had to use his own relative to do it. He would surely add this to his rapidly growing arsenal of schemes.

The next day, the very air at Mugunghwa was different. Somehow, despite being the enigmatic second-place student, everyone instinctively knew to distance themselves from you. Biologically speaking, humans were still animals, despite the staunch separation that was created over time. There was still a basal instinct to survive. In this case, that instinct screamed, “Get away from the brainlet that dared to tip the scales and anger Kim Namjoon.” You didn’t blame anyone for their decision. You couldn’t. You’d be the world’s biggest hypocrite if you did, and you didn’t want “hypocrite” to be engraved on your tombstone next to “cold-blooded killer”.

Everywhere you walked, people watched you intently with eyes filled with either fear, confusion, or disgust. You could hear thinly-veiled whispers as you passed your fellow students. 

“There she is.”

“She’s surprisingly pretty. I expected some ugly broad to be under Namjoon’s shadow.”

Ah, yes. You had forgotten your previously fairly secretive life before the shoe dropped. You were content with living under the radar. After all, it kept the vicious rumors of the poor girl who by hook or crook got her way into an elite university on a full-ride scholarship at bay. As long as you held the number two spot, nobody cared about you. News of your arrival and subsequent theories surrounding it were just a fad that most people shortly moved on from. The drastic and sudden change from peaceful irrelevance to hostile notoriety made you nauseous.

The cold air nipped at your flesh while you made your way to the library. Fresh snow made its satisfying crunching sound as you sped towards your destination. Wait. Sped? Only when you looked down at your feet did you realize that your steps were quicker than usual. Needless to say, you were confused at this revelation. Were things really this bad? Why was your body subconsciously hurrying you along when no danger was immediately present? Then, it hit you: If the Kim Taehyung Effect caused your insides to flutter and your heart melt with glee, the Kim Namjoon Effect caused everyone to cower and hide in pure horror. Maybe it ran in the family. After all, the two were related. How that crucial detail managed to slip past you was beyond human understanding.

Soon enough, you made your way into the campus library. Warmth enveloped you and thawed your chilled skin with each step into the large building. The tall bookshelves that towered over you and the other patrons made you feel safe. The walls of knowledge served as barriers from the predatory glares that were shot your way anywhere else. Here, while not entirely forbidden, hushed insults and remarks were more so. The library was your sanctuary when the dormitories weren’t, and with all the girls and even your RA avoiding you like the plague, it was safe to say that your dorm wasn’t very inviting right now.

Whatever it took, you needed to get your mind off of the Namjoon business. Sitting down in the warm silence served to do just that. You absentmindedly wandered through the various sections of the building. The nutty scent of someone’s morning brew filled your nostrils on your journey, easily putting you at ease in an instant. The rhythmic click-clack of someone's fingers against a computer keyboard kept your body grounded to the Earth. It served as a nice tether and protection from your thoughts that threatened to whisk you away into the stratosphere with every step you took.

Your feet took you past the reference section, the nonfiction section, and even the genealogy section before making its final stop at the fiction section. When you first started college, you found it odd that a library carried such books, but you soon came to realize that an escape into another world was appreciated by everyone. A love for fiction did not have an age limit.

You found yourself engrossed in a high fantasy novel by one Bang Sihyuk. (A very talented author, you decided. You made a note to look into some of his other works when you weren’t staring death in the face.) The sweet sound of yet another page turning and revealing more of the lore slowed your racing heart. The subtle smell of ink and glue softened your muscles, willing them to relax into the plush chair. The floor lamp next to you glowed softly and turned the usually stark clash of pitch black lettering against white pages into a mellow brown against cream parchment.

Even if you knew you had to face the wolves outside your sanctuary eventually, you still savored the solace you had in that moment. What you never considered was that those halcyon days were going to soon fall into utter ruin and despair with a singular human-shaped silhouette.

Everywhere Namjoon went, eyes followed. The air around him crackled with apprehension, but he couldn’t care less if he tried. This was natural. The pitiful prey animals around scrambled away for dear life, functioning solely on the fleeting notion that sticking around would spell their demise. Most of the people here were college students beginning their prime. They couldn’t afford to wither away… Not yet, at least… And certainly not here.

Stifled gasps laced with fear and admiration threatened to strangle the poor Kim heir. How he so desperately wished that they would all shut up! The constant buzzing murmur felt like mosquitoes tiptoeing across his skin during the hot and balmy summer months. It was highly annoying, to say the least.

His piercing mocha eyes landed on a target. A mousy figure was dwarfed by Namjoon’s taller and muscular frame. Pair the size difference with his steely and—arguably murderous—gaze fixed on the piteous male before him, both parties were surprised that the smaller student didn’t go into cardiac arrest.

“I would stay to chat, but I have important business to attend to,” Namjoon began. The timbre of his voice seeped into the small man’s bones and rattled them with each syllable. “You obviously know something, or else you wouldn’t be so pathetically fearful.”

The other male gulped audibly. His dull brown eyes stared into Namjoon’s vibrant cocoa ones. His pupils contracted as a cold sweat formed on his forehead and neck. Deep down, he knew that one wrong move would send him spiraling into horrors unimaginable. This was Kim Namjoon he was dealing with. He only had one chance. 

“I don’t know w-what you’re talking about…” He squeaked.

Namjoon narrowed his eyes with clear annoyance and disgust for the situation and the animal shivering before him. This caused the mousy man to gasp sharply.

“Tell me where (Y/N) (L/N) is. It’s a simple request. Even someone of your calibre should be capable of such a mundane task.” Namjoon stated simply. Disdain bled through his words into his tone and seeped into his prey’s already paper-thin psyche.

With a trembling arm, the rodent (as Namjoon decided to call him) pointed in the direction of the campus library. Of course you would be there. It made his blood boil to think that you’d already be in the library after receiving news of your latest feat. Anyone else would be a fool to risk losing such an honor. Studying was the only way to cement your new station as Mugunghwa’s new number one.

Without so much as a half-assed utter of thanks, Namjoon strode off in the direction of the large building. He was so hyper-focused on cutting you down and ensuring that you wouldn’t be a problem again that the signature thud of a body against snow missed his attention completely. The concerned and shocked gasps of onlookers didn’t affect him either.

Soon enough, he was at his destination. The same book-filled shelves and walls that greeted you greeted him at the entrance. Upon seeing his figure, the librarian at the circulation desk straightened in order to greet Namjoon properly. ‘At least one person here knew their place.’ He thought to himself.

“I’m looking for (Y/N) (L/N). It’d be in your best interest to point me in her direction as quickly as possible, Jimin.” Namjoon stated coolly with a tinge of nonchalance. Although he was painfully aware of the importance his little scouting mission served, his seemingly apathetic tone was the result of having said the same thing over and over like a broken record. The sooner he found you and got you to bend the knee, the sooner he could return home to his own studies.

The librarian, Jimin, nodded and swiftly pointed towards the fiction section. His mug of hazelnut coffee threatened to spill at the sudden and crisp motion. “She went that way, towards the fiction books.” He stated plainly. Namjoon couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his features. Jimin was always such an attentive servant. 

Ever since that little incident before Mugunghwa’s annual recital, the dance major felt a deep sense of allegiance towards the older male. He had to. Namjoon was the only reason Park Jimin was able to continue his dream of becoming a world-class dancer, and it was made abundantly clear that what Kim Namjoon giveth, he can just as easily taketh away. Poor Jimin had no idea why you were being sought out by the most powerful student at the university, but he couldn’t help but suppress the gnawing sensation that he was leading you to a painful end.

Once again, forgoing a thank you, Namjoon began the final stretch of his arduous journey to find you and finally set things right in the world. The only issue was that he had no idea who he was looking for, exactly.

Oddly enough, despite your status, you had managed to keep a low profile. Very few people actually knew what you looked like. Hell, your student profile didn’t even have an image of you posted. In fact, the only way people outside of your direct circle of cohorts started to gather what you looked like was because the web connecting (Y/N) (L/N), radio show host and journalism major and (Y/N) (L/N), former number two was finally starting to weave itself. As far as most of the student body was concerned, you were nothing but a faceless placeholder image against a drab gray background. It wouldn’t have surprised Namjoon if you actually walked around with the words, “NO IMAGE AVAILABLE” permanently marked on your body. What he saw, however, was beyond his own comprehension.

There you were, his enemy, his prey. You sat idly in the large cushioned chair with your book nestled delicately in your hands. For the moment, you were blissfully unaware of the danger that loomed nearby. This was almost too easy. Almost as if your presence unlocked a vault to all his plans to destroy you, you looked at him.

And then his world changed. He almost felt sick at the sudden rush of sensory input his brain was forced to parse through. The previously unsaturated hall roared to life with colors he hadn’t even seen before. Warm browns, reds, and hues of every other name shot into Namjoon’s retinas upon gazing at your graceful form. This was (Y/N) (L/N)? This hidden gem? He was meant to demolish this?

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He wouldn’t. For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon was rendered speechless. His heart began to beat in double-time. If his biological functions were a musical piece, this specific section’s tempo marking would be prestissimo. Beyond vivace, beyond presto.

He couldn’t take it, so for the first time ever, Kim Namjoon ran away.

You didn’t dare move. Fear wrapped its spindly fingers around your heart and clutched it in its icy grasp. You didn’t have to move your eyes off of the page to see who the shadow cast onto it belonged to. Deep down, you knew. 

Goddamn it.

You just knew.

Just when you gathered the courage to face your doom head on, he was gone.

“What the fuck…?” You whispered. Your fantasy novel fell to the ground on its spine with a soft thud. Was this it? Were you officially losing it? Was stress causing you to hallucinate and see literal shadow people?! That was it.

Not wanting to have a literal breakdown in the middle of the library, you honed your senses in on the now cold-smelling coffee nearby. The faint hazelnut blend managed to at least tether you down to reality once more. You took a deep breath. Everything was now in focus. You had to leave, you decided. So that’s what you did.

If the library’s other patrons noticed the shocked, glazed over look in your eyes, nobody said anything. You had just come in contact with the menace. You were lucky to be alive. There’s no need to add insult to injury by inquiring about your current situation. Wordlessly, you ambled out of the library door. Jimin’s small eyes followed your every movement until you were finally out of his line of sight.

Soon enough, you made it to your dorm room. Oddly enough, it felt like you’d walked through a wormhole and warped to the private space. It appears that moving effortlessly through time and space was an eerily common theme that day. Not wishing to dwell on it any further, you plummeted onto your bed and let a dreamless sleep whisk you away from all your troubles.

A month had passed since your clandestine encounter with Namjoon. Surprisingly enough, after the first week or so of living in terror, the foreboding feeling of doom had all but disappeared. Like a colony of ants rebuilding their anthill after a sudden rainstorm, so too did Mugunghwa National Academy rebuild anew. As Thanksgiving rolled into Christmas, the student body had learned to accept that you were now at the top of the food chain. The status quo had shifted in your favor. Students that would previously mutter curses after you passed by would suddenly wave amicably once they noticed your presence.

While the sudden lack of hostility was appreciated, you couldn’t help but notice how shallow the whole situation was. A faint sense of disgust settled at the pit of your stomach. Or was it foreboding, after all? After your encounter with Namjoon’s shadow at the library, the Kim Industries heir had disappeared suddenly. He had disappeared without a trace. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. His scores were still updated regularly; his name was still in the mouths of every man, woman, and child that walked across campus; and you swore that you saw his tall figure slither like a snake behind buildings and shrubbery one time after class. While there was solid proof that he still (at the very least) resided within this plane of existence, Kim Namjoon had achieved cryptid status. Just a month ago, he was the dark overlord that ruled Mugunghwa with an iron fist. Now, he was merely a relic of the past, a name synonymous with the Boogeyman. Kim Namjoon was now used to scare freshmen like tales of a monster under one’s bed were used to frighten young children.

The truth, like all things are, was much more complicated than that. After he met you, his goddess, at the library, Namjoon spiraled out of control. Nothing was the same for him. At first, it was a fleeting rush of endorphins, he had decided. Perhaps the sense of victory he felt after finding his long lost rival caused his brain to go into overdrive with glee. With that in mind, he returned home to lick his wounds and rewrite his battle plans.

The next day, everything seemed normal enough. His world was in grayscale once more. Individuals who weren’t of direct importance to him retained their distorted, blob-like features. His senses were mostly dulled once again… Until you appeared. You walked across campus with grace that put the supermodels that his father regularly “worked with” to shame. To be honest, they looked like pitiful crows with snapped legs when put up against your stork-like elegance.

His previously unsaturated world regained its color. His heart rate increased, warmth filled his veins as a result. Everything was crisply in focus when it came to you. For the first time in a long time, Kim Namjoon was terrified… But that’s what intrigued him all the more. Once you left his sight, however, the blooming colors vanished. Everything was blurred again. The warmth had died and left him empty, hollow, and cold. After a few days of this occurrence, Namjoon made his biggest realization yet: he was in love with you.

He was quick to write it off as pure lust. After all, remaining at the top didn’t leave much time for him to indulge in more carnal pleasures. Hell, the only thing he could remember slamming on a table on doing all night long was homework, as old and pathetic as the joke was. Namjoon was a dashing, intelligent young man beginning to reach his prime. Abstaining from such a primal and basic need wasn’t good for him. With that in mind, he immediately began his conquest.

First, it started with the models his father would fuck behind his mother’s back. Despite how carefully manufactured their appearances were, they didn’t quench his thirst. In fact, they enraged Namjoon to the point where it wasn’t uncommon for the women to leave his bedroom bruised the next morning. This charade went on for much too long until he’d had enough.

No other woman could set his heart aflame without even trying. No other woman could bring life to his distorted and achromatic world like you could. So he tried a man. Several men, in fact. He got so desperate that not even his little Park Jimin was safe from his ravenous clutches.

Nothing. Nothing had worked.

Now, as the clock struck midnight in his grand bedroom, Namjoon sat in his bed with his hand wrapped around his cock. He’d been so on edge for the longest time, yet nothing he did could stir him. So, he did the only thing he knew how… Thoughts of you filled his mind as he ghosted a finger across his limp member. The warmth he felt was returning once more…

“Namjoon! There you are! I’ve been so lonely… Don’t you know that I’ve missed you?” 

There you were in the Kim manor’s living room. A black silk robe hugged your form perfectly as you bounded over to him. Golden sunlight filtered through the curtains and cast you in its heavenly warm glow. Your (E/C) eyes peered up at him with such admiration, lust, and most importantly, love. Before he could even properly process the scene, you had him enveloped in the warmest hug imaginable.

Namjoon felt a rush of lust and blood shoot straight to his dick.

“I know, darling… But I’m here now. We can be together. I’m all yours from now on.” He replied smoothly.

Namjoon didn’t even think it possible for your eyes to shine any brighter, but they did. And they were all for him. Your eyes, your beautiful eyes, for his eyes only… He gently caressed your cheek, careful not to mark it. The time for leaving marks and bruises would come later on… 

“Really?” You asked. Your entire face lit with hope and wonder. “You mean it? Please don’t tease me, baby~. I don’t know what I’d do if you had to go so soon…” 

You buried yourself into him, as if you knew that your home was within his embrace. He relished in it. He really did…

Namjoon felt feverish. His hands got to work immediately. Visions of you nestled against him, starlit eyes gazing into his, your form undulating beneath him as he pounded into you with everything he had. Your ecstatic moans and gasps filled his ears and mind, creating a carnal symphony only you could compose.

Sweat beaded on his temples, his arms beginning to burn with exhaustion as they continued to bring him to completion. Musical, “I love you, Namjoon”s and “Please! I’m so close, baby! Fuck me!”s began to crescendo rapidly. The world around him went from a gentle warmth to a blazing inferno. Colors reached their maximum saturation. Namjoon’s heart began to beat erratically. This was it. This was it! This is what he needed!

“Yes, (Y/N). You’re so good to me! Take it! Take it!!”

With an animalistic roar, Namjoon shot his seed. It coated his body and even his blanket that he pushed aside in his lustful fever. The fireworks came to a close. His jagged breaths began to even themselves out. The angels stopped singing. He was alone once more… But he wouldn’t be for long.

Tears filled Namjoon’s vision as he looked at his clock. Time wasn’t important anymore… But you were. He was going to have you, and he was going to become number one again. Kim Namjoon was going to be your number one.

Just like that, the year of terror had come and gone. Now, a new year was upon you and another December along with it. You stared up at your dorm room’s ceiling with a dumb smile etched on your face. After all, that was the only expression you could possibly muster, given the circumstances. 

“Damn… What the hell happened to me?” Was all you managed to say as you turned onto your side. Your phone in hand, you scrolled through your photo gallery almost absentmindedly until you reached one particular photo. There you were at a carnival with the Devil incarnate, Kim Namjoon. Your eyes bright with glee at the large plush you held in one arm as you posed with Namjoon for a selfie.

You chuckled and zoomed in on the image with a wistful smirk. While you stared ahead at the camera, Namjoon stared at you with an expression that you didn’t even know that he possessed: pure, unadulterated admiration. You were almost inclined to call it love.

The past year and some change was a whirlwind. Your earliest memory of it consisted of finally coming to terms with the ecosystem at Mugunghwa, only to be faced with Namjoon and your whole world coming down. Students and staff alike scurried away from the dining area, not wanting to be a witness to a crime. You had gained new friends over the course of these months. They simply couldn’t stand to see your last moments on this earth in complete agony.

However, your death never came. Namjoon stood proudly in the now empty cafeteria, as if he relished in the fact that he could clear a room without uttering a single word.

“(Y/N) (L/N). It’s so good to finally put a name to a face… And what a lovely face it is…”

If Namjoon wasn’t going to kill you, the water lodged in your windpipe at his words would. You sputtered, hands waving as you choked on your water. Suddenly, Namjoon came behind you and swiftly patted your back. Once you could breathe again, you wiped at your tear-filled eyes and peered up at him. “I’m sorry… What?”

Namjoon returned to his original position in front of you with a smirk. Pulling out a chair, he sat down with the practiced air of a businessman about to make a deal. “I called you beautiful. I do hope that wasn’t too forward.”

Now, you were suspicious. Satan himself had saved you from choking and was now calling you attractive? Were you dead? Did you imagine Namjoon helping you as a last-ditch effort to survive somehow? Was that the image your brain created as you slipped away into the world of the dead? But this was reality. Something deep down told you that you weren’t dying or dreaming.

“Forgive my skepticism, but I highly doubt that you came to exchange compliments. What do you want, Kim Namjoon?” You asked icily. The male in front of you visibly recoiled at your tone, as if he didn’t factor in the possibility that you could speak with such a tone. He quickly recovered, however, and he began his pitch.

“You’re half right, (Y/N). I didn’t come here to only compliment you, but I came here to have a discussion that is long overdue. At my core, I am a businessman. I make deals, I negotiate. That’s what I’m here to do.” Namjoon stated simply. Looking deeply into his eyes, he didn’t show any signs of insincerity, but that’s to be expected. He’s been trained his entire life to hiding his true intentions behind an amicable facade, regardless of how nefarious his plans may or may not be.

“I see… What is it that you wish to discuss? I’m afraid that I’m not as well-versed in business etiquette as you, so please forgive me for any mistakes or slip-ups that I may make. That being said, this is not an invitation to walk all over me. I may be inexperienced, but I am by no means an idiot.”

Could you be any more perfect for him? A beautiful face and body, poise and grace, and the courage to hold her own in a negotiation? Not to mention, the colors were swirling around you and blooming delicately in such a comforting fashion. He was absolutely smitten.

“I wouldn’t dare make the mistake of calling someone who replaced me as top dog an idiot. Give me some credit. I’m not as vile as the university’s tall tales make me out to be. I’m sure that my cousin, Taehyung, could vouch for me.”

You bristled at the mention of Taehyung. What had he done to him? Did something happen? No, that couldn’t be. You had just finished your show with Tae only a half hour ago. Surely, that isn’t enough time for him to get into any trouble, right?

“Calm down, (Y/N). Nothing’s happened to him. I can see the wheels turning in your head. My cousin is safe and sound. I can even call him up for you, if you don’t believe me.” Namjoon said smoothly, already fishing his phone out of his designer coat’s pocket.

“No, that’s fine…” You swallowed and regained your composure. Once you were calmed down, you returned Namjoon’s gaze. “I’m sure he’s alright. If anything, I’ll call him later. Right now, this is more important.”

Namjoon put his phone away and leaned back in his chair whilst giving a dismissive wave of his hand. Hopefully, the display of nonchalance would mask the sheer excitement and feverish nervousness he felt from being so close to you. Hearing your voice was like hearing the soothing melodies of birdsong in the morning. His heart soared at the mere act of being in your presence.

“Very well. I came here to apologize. You see, I’m well aware of the distress to you and everyone here at Mugunghwa that I’ve caused, and for that, I’m sorry.”

You could have died right there. Kim Namjoon? Apologizing? And apologizing to you, no less?! The infamous heir to Kim Industries, known for the downfall of any and everyone who dared impede his goals was apologizing to you?!

“Please, (Y/N). Forgive me. It’s just that losing to you has put my life into perspective. Yes, I was the head of our class, but what did that mean? Why was I fighting so hard to keep a title that in the long run, means so little? What was the point if I had no one to share it with?”

“What the hell are you getting at, Kim? I fail to see what this has to do with conducting business.”

As precious as you were to him, Namjoon despised your tone. If you were to be his, that sharp tongue would have to be dealt with. Besides, in that instant, you reminded him of his lowlife father. That certainly wouldn’t do. His queen should never adopt the mannerisms of Kim Joonho. Never. Ever. You were to whisper sweet nothings into his ear while he reciprocated. You were to never take such a tone with him ever again.

“I was rambling, so I’ll forgive that insolent remark of yours just this once. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Namjoon stated darkly.

Not wanting to push your luck, you relented. You were actually talking to Kim Namjoon. You couldn’t afford to ruin an opportunity like this.

“Right.” He resumed “The truth is that I’ve been watching you for quite some time. Honestly, that’s all I can ever do anymore. You’ve occupied every inch of my mind, and I just wanted to ask if you’d be mine, (Y/N).”

You sat there, slack-jawed. Was he serious?! What was happening?

“You’re joking… There’s no way that you could be serious. There’s no fucking way!”

“I am. I’ve done some soul-searching recently, and I’ve come to the conclusion that you are what I’ve been fighting for all this time. Not a damn class rank. I’ve been fighting for love, affection, understanding… And I believe that I can find all of that in you.”

“You… What…? I- How?”

“February 14, a dozen red roses were waiting for you on your desk in your dorm. With them, was a card addressed to you from a secret admirer. March 14, a diamond necklace was gifted to you for White Day by a secret admirer. And now, these.”

Namjoon produced a stack of envelopes bound by a black silk ribbon from his jacket pocket.

“These are from me. You’re a smart girl, (Y/N). Can you tell me who your secret admirer is?”

That was April. After a few talks with your co-host and having to sit through embarrassing stories of their childhoods, you finally took the leap and went out on a date with Namjoon… And you were the happiest you’ve ever been. The large stuffed animal that Namjoon had won you sat on a bookshelf, next to several other trinkets he had given you over the months you had dated.

You chuckled to yourself at the memory and closed your photos app. After which, you opened up your messaging app to shoot a quick text to Namjoon. That was until, you got a notification reading,

KIM INDUSTRIES CEO, KIM JOONHO FOUND DEAD IN HIS WINTER ESTATE.

Without thinking, you dialed Namjoon’s number and was greeted by a somber moan answering the phone.

“Namjoon, baby, I’m so sorry… I just saw the news.”

A sniff. “Hey. So the news outlets already published the story, huh? I should have known that it wouldn’t take long… They could at least have the common decency of letting his corpse grow cold first before they publicize it.” Namjoon chuckled humorlessly.

You didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t imagine going through the sudden shock of losing your parent, only to deal with the press soon afterward. You sensed that Namjoon needed some time to himself to grieve, and you were more than willing to give it to him.

“Yeah, it’s shitty what they’re doing. And to think that I’m going into that profession. It’s crazy.”

“It is what it is, (Y/N). Besides, I have faith that you’ll be one of the good journalists that don’t try to weave everything that they hear into lies and defamation.” He said earnestly.

Something about the way Namjoon spoke was unnerving. He didn’t sound like someone who was mourning their late father, but then again, he might have been in shock. His apathetic demeanor on the matter must have been a coping mechanism. After all, losing your father so suddenly is a lot to process.

All you could do is hum in response. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I know so, dear.”

A pregnant pause.

“Hey, (Y/N). I know this sounds horribly insensitive, but, can we still have our dinner date at my mansion? It’s just that I can’t bear to be alone right now, and you’re the only person I’ve been able to trust lately. It doesn’t have to be a date. I guess I just want you to come over.”

Your heart shattered into smithereens. He was alone and scared. Namjoon had no one to trust or turn to in his time of need, yet he found it within his heart to ask you. Who were you to refuse?

“Alright. I’ll go. Same time?”

He didn’t have to say a word, but you could hear his dimpled smile some out to play.

“Y-yes, yes, of course! Same time! Thank you so much, (Y/N). You don’t know how much this means to me. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“Alright, see you soon. Bye.”

You hung up the phone with a sigh and faced your closet. You had exactly two hours to get ready for dinner. You had two hours to prepare…

And so did Namjoon.

Once again, Namjoon was summoned to his father’s study. He was expecting it sooner or later. His class rank hadn’t improved since his father sent him to take his top spot back by any means necessary, but you were number one now. Namjoon wouldn’t dare dethrone his goddess from her rightful pedestal.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was upon opening the large doors a swift slap coming across his face.

“You useless, useless brat! You can’t even eliminate a simple girl?! You can’t even reclaim your title?! How am I supposed to leave my estate and company in such incapable hands?!”

Joonho was fuming. His once pride and joy had betrayed him and disappointed him. How dare he? Namjoon sat on the floor, gingerly rubbing his cheek. He was sure his father’s handprint was burned into his flesh.

“I swear, you’re incompetent just like your brother! He disappointed me, and look at where he is now! I should have known that it was too good to be true.”

At the mention of his brother, Namjoon’s body stiffened.

“All of this. You’re ruining your life and your career all for some girl?! You’re willing to throw away what I’ve essentially bred you for, all for some lowlife pussy?!”

At the mention of you, Namjoon began to see red.

“I suppose I’ve been too lenient on you. I should have known that you would flounder. Maybe I’ll get rid of (Y/N) myself. It’s clear that she means a lot to you. Maybe you’ll get back in line once she perishes.”

That was the final straw. With pure rage fueling his every cell, Namjoon sprinted over to his father’s desk and grabbed his letter opener.

“Say it again, bastard! Say it again!”

Now, Joonho’s figure was dissolving into a crimson blob. All of his human like features were gone in a furious red haze. Kim Joonho wasn’t his father anymore. He wasn’t even human. 

He was the enemy.

Without giving his father a chance to speak, Namjoon plunged the letter opener into the older man’s eye sockets. After that, it was a blur. Hours had seemingly passed and Kim Joonho was nothing but a human pincushion. Stab wounds littered his body, and blood was oozing out of every one. With a satisfied grin, Namjoon stood and cupped a crimson hand to his face.

“Seokjin! Seokjin! Come down here!”

The head butler rushed in the study and into the carnage. The older male was mortified at the bloodbath before him, but he couldn’t help the relieved smile and tears of joy forming in his tear ducts.

“Brother, come help me clean up father. Unless, of course, you have some words for him?”

Seokjin carefully approached his father’s corpse and smiled wickedly. He placed a gloved hand on his eyeless face.

“You’ve disappointed me, Joonho. And now look where that’s brought you. My transgressions against you warranted that I were to be stripped of my place in the world as your son, only to become your servant. Your transgressions warranted your death at the hands of your prodigy. Isn’t that poetic justice? Sleep well, father.”

“Master Namjoon will be down in a moment.” A maid stated as she had you seated.

A white cloth napkin was folded and placed on your lap while you got comfortable in the antique dining chair. Staff hurried to and fro to finish preparing for your meal, and it was almost amusing seeing them rush around like busy worker bees instead of the esteemed staff of the Kim Manor.

A few moments ticked away before Namjoon made his appearance. He was elegantly clad in a designer Armani suit, giving a regal and princely appearance as he made his way over to you from the grand foyer.

“Please forgive me, dear. I had some business to attend to.”

Namjoon outstretched his arms, motioning for you to give him a hug. You happily obliged.

“Namjoon! There you are! I’ve been so lonely… Don’t you know that I’ve missed you?” You cheekily giggled. If you ignored the whole dead dad situation, the whole scene would appear wholesomely domestic. You decided to indulge in that notion.

Namjoon’s breath hitched.

“I’m sorry that I’ve kept you waiting. I hope that we can make up for lost time during dinner, yeah?”

You nodded and sat down in your chair. Namjoon was seated right beside you. As if on cue, the staff brought in your dishes. A classic Christmas dinner, consisting of turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, ham, and vegetables was placed in front of you. On a small dish nearby, some cranberry jelly sat. You tried to hide the grimace at the red jelly. You were by no means a fan of the garnish, but you didn’t want to appear picky or ungrateful, especially considering the reason why you were having dinner with Namjoon in the first place.

Ever the attentive partner, Namjoon was keen on noticing your inner turmoil. “Is something not to your liking?”

“Uh, it’s just… I don’t really like cranberry jelly… That’s all.”

Namjoon looked utterly dumbfounded before letting out a joyful, booming laugh. “That’s all? Oh, (Y/N). You had me worried! I thought that I’d ruined the whole meal for you!”

His fork stabbed into a piece of turkey and he dipped the meat into the red gelatin.

“But, please do try the jelly. My brother and I, we made it for this occasion. I promise it’s nothing like the canned slop they sell in grocery stores.”

Namjoon made this? Now, this you had to try.

“Alright. Since you went through the effort of making it, I’ll give it a shot.”

You copied Namjoon’s actions of taking a slice of turkey and dipping it in the cranberry jelly. With the expression of a chef on Chopped, Namjoon eagerly watched as you placed the food in your mouth.

“Mmm! This is delicious! Namjoon, you should sell this! This is amazing!”

Another laugh came from Namjoon, although, this one had an arguably maniacal lilt. “Why, thank you, but I’m afraid that this specific batch is one of a kind. Besides, cranberry jelly isn’t the most profitable market out there.”

Little did you know that you had just ingested Kim Joonho’s coagulated blood. Perhaps that was why his cranberry jelly was one of a kind.

Merry Christmas.

#bwcssy2

[pradaksj]

7 Rings | 01

♛ pairing: taehyung/reader

♛ genre: richboy!taehyung | blackmailer!reader | infiltration au | slow burn | eventual smut | angst | fluff 

♛ rating: mature

♛ word count: 12,000+

♛ warnings for this chapter : explicit language, terminal illness, this chapter basically just sets the foundation of this story up so sorry if it’s a little boring 

♛ summary:  In need of money for your mom’s medical bills, you and your best friend come up with a plan to infiltrate one of Seoul’s richest families, the Kim family. The plan was simple, blackmail, get your money, and disappear, but of course things don’t always go as planned. Especially not with someone like Kim Taehyung.

━ ❝ Whoever said money can't solve your problems, must not have had enough money to solve 'em. ❞

♛ chapter index/masterlist || series masterlist || next chapter 

Chapters⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08

“Why Y/N?” his voice cracks, the look of betrayal evidently on his face. 

"I never—" you sobbed. Your throat felt swollen and you stuttered, pitifully trying to speak the words in your head. "I never meant for it to go this far," you said at last. 

How did you end up here? Where did everything go wrong? When had the rabbit hole simply become too deep? The sounds of several voices echoed in your head. 

You could hear him calling your name, begging  no demanding an answer, but all you could do was stare off into space, thinking of everything that led up this exact moment. 

If only you could turn back time. 

3 Months Ago.

Friday Morning.

“In today’s news, the Kim family’s multibillion dollar deal has been officially confirmed. Their partnership with Hyundai is estimated to bring in at least seven billion in revenue to Korea’s economy over the next 5 years. Both parties have agreed to terms that will lift…”

Oh the irony.

Sighing, you turned off the radio of your run-down 2006 grey Hyundai, which every morning you had to cross your fingers and hope that the engine wouldn't burn out on you. The rumbling sounds of the engine starting up never failing to catch the attention of pedestrians walking by. 

After several frustrating minutes of struggling to parallel park, you sat in your car and allowed yourself to sulk for a moment. Another day, another dollar to make. Even if it meant having to deal with rude and entitled customers all day, your school loans plus your bills just weren’t going to pay themselves off anytime soon. 

“One day at a time Y/N, just one day at a time,” you reassured yourself, placing on your mandatory logoed hat, and mentally preparing yourself for another day. If only you were rich.

Friday Night.

Despite being tired from work, visiting your mom was something you always felt like you needed to do every so often, plus her homemade meals were quite often a bonus considering how lazy you’d often get to cook food for yourself. In fact, the pizza shop near your apartment not only having your order, but voice completely memorized for whenever you called. The young employee quickly interrupting your greeting with a, “Pepperoni pizza, half sausage, half Hawaiian, and a pink lemonade?” surprisingly no longer offended you as much as it would back in the beginning. 

Your mom certainly didn’t mind the company as it inevitably got quite lonely living by herself, but she knew she couldn’t smother you forever as much as she would love to. College was a necessity for you in her eyes, a ticket to a better life that wouldn’t require you to scrub the floors of the rich as she did. 

And maybe it was because you were more mature nowadays, but conversations with her had now also seemed to be much more meaningful. Well that and the two of you didn’t butt heads as much as you used to compared to when you were nothing but a temperamental teenager whose biggest life crisis was whether your crush glanced at you in the hallway or not. 

Of course the boundary and respect of a mother-daughter relationship was always there, some of your jokes sometimes garnering a “I’m not your friend, I’m your mother” speech from her, but nonetheless your relationship with her in a way was very much like a friendship. It seemed as if with every visit you learned new things about her, the different stories she shared with you from her youth always having an underlying lesson that you could apply to your own life.

“I really needed this,” you said while chewing on a mouthful of bulgogi. Small stains of sauce at the corners of your mouth, as your mom’s cooking never failed to make you feel like a little kid. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her now twenty one year old daughter who in her heart was always going to be just a little girl.

She got up from the small wooden dining chair, picking up any leftover dinnerware as she prepared to start washing dishes, all while at the same time listening to you as you babbled on about work.

“I mean really, how hard is it to say thank you,” you rolled your eyes, dramatically sticking your chopstick into your bowl, as you were recalling one of today’s customers who kept snapping their fingers at you as if you were their very own personal servant. 

“Well it’s a good thing it’s summer, you don’t have to worry about college so mu—” The sound of glass shattering on the floor abruptly caught your attention. You looked up at your mom who was now dead silent, her face which was now extremely pale, and her breathing which had suddenly became erratic. What you didn't know was that your mom had suddenly felt as if the world spinning, the feeling of disorientation becoming too overwhelming.

“Mom? Are you okay?” you quickly got up, grabbing your mom by the forearm in a means of trying to redirect her from the kitchen to the couch at an attempt to get her to relax. You unlocked your phone, fingers slightly trembling as you called the ambulance. 

“Just breathe okay. You’re gonna be okay,” you kept trying to reassure your mom as you waited for them to pick up which at the moment felt like an eternity. Your leg was bouncing up and down in anticipation as you kept glancing at your mom who was trying to keep her breathing in control and her eyes open. “Do not close your eyes on me, you hear me?” your voice began to feel shaky, eyelids brimming with tears, the pulsating feeling of panic flowing through your veins.

“Hello, what’s your emergency?”

You hated hospitals. Who didn’t? The smell, the yellow-toned ugly lighting, and the feeling of anxiousness the whole place gave people. For you though, the hospital was a reminder of tragedy, a reminder that whatever comes in here never walks out the same whether you’re a patient or not. Fifteen years ago, it made your mom a widow left having to pay remaining hospital bills all while having to raise her six year old daughter.

So here you were now, fifteen years later sitting at her bedside waiting for her to wake up, stuck in the same position she once was. You stared up at the ceiling counting each time the overhead lights flickered as you tried not to get so lost into your thoughts. Everything had happened in what felt like was the blink of an eye, guilt was beginning to seep in. Why hadn’t noticed anything earlier? Maybe in some miraculous way you could’ve prevented this, you thought to yourself. 

You turned on the small TV that the hospital provided in every room, flipping through several channels hoping you'd find something that would be able to distract you.

“Shut up and kis—” K-drama. Next.

“Watch ou—” Action movie. Next.

“Kim Taehyung gets physical with paparazzi, the heir to Kim Enterprises spotted —” but before you could place your full attention to the entertainment newscast you turned your attention to your mother who was now beginning to shift in her sleep, her eyes now slowly opening, clearly in a daze as to where she was and how she got there.

“Hey ma,” you softly whispered, giving her a warm smile as you held her hand tighter, beginning to rub small circles on her palm.

“W-what happened Y/N?” 

“You fain-”

“Ah you’re finally up,” you turned towards the door, seeing who you assumed was the doctor in charge now walking in. 

For a doctor she appeared quite young, her petite figure and wrinkle free skin a defining factor in her appearance. You formally greeted her, a wave of anxiousness now overcoming you. “Dr. Whitney Han'' is what her name tag read, but it was what was in small font beneath her name that made your heart feel as if it feel down to the pit of your stomach. “Oncologist,” meaning doctors who specialize in the study and treatment for cancer.

Faintly clearing her throat, “Hello, I’m Dr. Han,” she introduced herself, reaching her hand out for you to shake. She smiled at your mom who was still in a slightly groggy state, but aware nonetheless. “So Ms. Y/L/N, you seemed to have suffered from what we call a syncope, meaning an episode of passing out, it’s usually caused by insufficient blood flow to the brain, a result of hypotension,” you nodded following along with what she was saying,

“When episodes such as these occur, it tends to mean that there’s an underlying cause and so we decided to run some tests on your mother to cross out any possibilities, and well there’s never an easy way to tell anybody this...” her gaze lowered for just a slight moment until she quickly regained her composure, but it was just enough for you to just know. She continued with what you assumed she’s told hundred’s if not thousand’s of patients in her career. For her it’d be just another day of work, but for you it felt as if the world stopped.

Whatever she had said after couldn’t be heard because the only thing you could hear was the sound of your blood pounding in your ears, and an intense beating against your chest. You could see her mouth moving, but nothing seemed to be coming out, everything suddenly becoming a ringing noise to your ears. 

Fight or flight is what they call it. When a stressful situation triggers you to either run or stay, and at this moment you just wanted to run, but you knew you couldn’t. You knew that at this exact moment, everything was going to change because whether you liked it or not, the carousel never stops turning. 

You slowly glanced at your mom who seemed to be in the same paralyzed state as you, her face stoic of any possible emotion. 

“With treatment chances of survival are of course immensely improved, the treatments are harsh, but taking your mom’s age and clean medical history I think she can definitely handle it,” Dr. Han tried to give you a small smile, but even she knew situations like these were always tough. No matter how many years of experience she had, the countless tragedies and rare miracles she’d witnessed in her career, every case was different. Her job as a doctor was to make people like you and your mother feel more comfortable with their situation, but never make any promises. 

“Now treatments are done in intervals, and will probably have to be done starting from now until about three to six months which is when we usually see improvement, meaning you will have to permanently stay here for that time. From what I’ve seen with past patients is that treatment can be very costly  without insurance, and well I know a lot of physicians don’t like to talk about expenses with patients, but—”

“My mom doesn’t have health insurance. I know,” you harshly broke the deafening silence, interrupting her before she could continue, not wanting to hear anymore of her pity. You had no reason to give her attitude, no reason to direct your anger towards her, it wasn’t like she caused any of this to happen, but you just couldn’t help it. The atmosphere in the air was stiff, any next word out of her mouth and you’d probably go ballistic. “C-can we just have a moment alone? So we could just um process everything,” you stammered, lacking to make any eye contact with her. 

“I’ll be right outside in the hallway, let me know if you have any questions,” she gave you and your mom one last tiny sad smile before making her way out.

Once the door closed, you thought that you’d be able to breathe properly again, but the same heavy feeling on your chest remained. It wasn’t until you felt a grab at your hand that you were brought back to reality.

“Hey we are going to be just fine Y/N,” your mom whispered to you as it was now she who was rubbing your hand in an effort to comfort you. A weak smile appearing on your face, of course your mom would be comforting you despite it being her who's sick. “Come on lay down with me,” she then began to scoot to the side in her already tiny hospital bed, trying to make space for you.

And for a small everlasting moment you felt like a little girl again as you hugged your mom, tears silently falling from the corner of your eyes, the soft sound of her humming comforting you. You let your head relax onto her shoulder, your breathing somehow finally under control. The question of “What are we going to do?” slowly disappearing from your mind, letting yourself drift off to sleep in the arms of your mom.

Sunday Morning.

In the following days after, you had helped your mom move her necessities into the hospital room that she’d be staying in until her treatment was over and she could be discharged. You had contacted your landlord informing him that you’d be cancelling your lease as you now had plans to move back home. The only reason you had your own small apartment in the first place was because your mom thought it’d be better to live near campus and not waste so much money on gas going from campus to your job and then back to your moms place. Despite her protests on the cancellation of your lease, you had done it anyway.

“Ma someone has to live there, or else it’d just be useless to continue paying rent. We can’t just leave it empty for the whole year, someone could break in or even try to live there for the while that you’re not there. I mean imagine walking in on some strang—”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want you living there, and move the decoration a little more to your right,” she says while making a motion with her hand as a way to guide you. For the past hour you had been putting up flimsy removable decorations all across the beige hospital walls at an attempt to make her room look less depressing than it already was. 

“I already told you, I’ll be just fine. I already asked Yuna to help me get my stuff, and you’re acting like everyone in the neighborhood doesn’t know who I am, and it’s a lot faster to get here from home. I just need to start looking for a second job in the meant—”

“Ah about that,” your moms sudden interruption causing you to stop what you were doing , now tilting your head in confusion, “I called Mr. Choi and told him about me no longer being able to work for the meantime that I'm here and well that’s when he mentioned something about going on vacation, and needing a temporary assistant… and that he needed someone to run some business like errands for him and well I may have mentioned you and that you’re majoring in business and how you’d love to work for him…” she tried zooming through the last part but you had heard it all.

“Wait what!”

Mr. Choi was your mom’s boss, having been his housekeeper for as long as you could remember. Endless long nights of making sure whatever multimillion dollar penthouse he or his other snobby friends owned looked squeaky clean, just to be paid like any other minimum-wage worker minus the tip.

You could still vividly remember the nights when you were younger being babysat by your neighbor, anxiously waiting for your mom's knock on the door signifying that she was back home, and just how exhausted she’d look as she took off her housekeeping shoes, too tired to even look at the pile of sealed letters on the sturdy coffee table. A constant reminder that she was going to be working for that man for a very long time. 

For a long time you had wondered how she was able to do it all. Were there nights where she felt like just giving up and simply letting everything she’d work so hard for to collapse? 

Your mind flashing back to the night before you moved out for college. It was about 3 in the morning and anxiety had been keeping you up the whole night, the fear of moving somewhere you were unfamiliar with creeping into your mind. The sound of muffled tears coming from the living room snapping you back into reality. Slowly you had gotten up from bed, opening your door wide enough to leave a crack that you could visibly see through, desperately trying to avoid having the door loudly creak. 

And so there she was with a wax stick candle in her hand, quietly whispering to herself a small recital, the sound of several wailed “thank you’s” coming out of her mouth, grateful that she had made it this far. The old framed picture of your dad on the coffee table making it hard for you to fight back your own tears. 

Nights where she was sure your landlord would knock at any moment to kick you guys out because the rent was going to be late, nights where she’d silently cry herself to sleep because it killed her to say no to something you desperately wanted from the store, and nights where she merely missed the love of her life. Doubting herself as to whether she was doing a good job in raising you, simply wishing she could have someone give her some reassurance. And having to hide those feelings because she didn’t want her daughter to find out that the person she had once given a “Happy Mother’s Day to the Strongest Mommy in the World” card with a colorful doodle of herself in a cape was in fact not strong at all, but acted like she was because she simply loved her daughter too much. 

And so that night instead of going back to sleep, you slowly made your way into the living room, silently enveloping her in a hug, no words having to be spoken. Promising yourself that you were going to work hard in college, and get each other out of the small cramped apartment to which you guys called home. Life of course had different plans, which brings you back to one of the causes of your stress and worries: Mr. Choi. 

Oh how you despised that man. One would think a rich man like him would’ve offered by now to pay for all of your mom’s expenses considering the years of servitude, but no. He only fed into the stereotype you already had of the rich, the only people they cared for were themselves.

“So you’re basically telling me I have to quit my job by tonight, and do something I have absolutely no experience with?”

“Yes! You need to start getting all the experience you can get in the world of business, and him being on vacation is perfect. Less stress, and I assume it’ll be better pay than that restaurant you’re working in.” Oh how you hated how naive your mom could be sometimes, it always led to Choi taking advantage of her and her kindness.

“Mr. Choi lives—”

“In the city which is not at all far from here, the only reason you work at that lousy restaurant is because it’s near campus, yes or yes?”

“And when school starts?”

“Mr. Choi should be back by then and he can find someone new to replace you,” you dramatically groaned, the fact that she had reasonable answers to your questions bugged you. 

“But-”

“But nothing! You’re a hard worker Y/N, who knows you may even meet someone who could change your life around in that area. You’re young, about to be a college graduate, you need to start printing out resumes and Mr. Choi is a big name in the indust—”

“I get it, I get it,” you said chuckling at your mom’s enthusiasm, “and who's going to keep you company then?”

“Ah well the nurse was telling me last night about the events they throw here every week for people like me who are staying here for a while and trust me I’ll be just fine,” she winked at you which raised a laugh out of you. Who knew your mom could be so… social. “Just try and visit hmm... at least once a week.”

“Once?”

“I’m telling you Y/N, we will be just fine. Stop acting like I’m dying anytime soon.” she said, “now what do you say? It’s just until the end of summer.” You began to consider your options, money was definitely the weighing factor here.

Sighing once you had made your decision, “When do I start?”, a giant grin now appearing on her face. 

Sunday Night

“Well that’s the last of it,” you sighed in relief as you finally were able to close the trunk of your car after several minutes of struggling to compress your things in order for everything to fit in your small car and not make any double trips back. 

“Finally! You know for someone who claims they need to save money, you sure do like spending it on such small useless things,” your best friend, Yuna, complained.

“Oh because you were so much help,” you huffed, she had no right to complain considering all she did was loudly munch on her chips, watching the pitiful sight of you nearly fighting your trunk after several failed attempts of it not closing. She raised her hand in defense. 

You and Yuna had met in the 8th grade after the two of you were assigned as partners for your geometry class, casual conversation about latest idol debuts and fashion trends had blossomed a beautiful friendship. For a while you thought that college was going to cause the two of you to grow apart, but in fact you two became even closer. It had become a friendship where you didn’t need to see each other everyday, nor talk about absolutely everything all in one moment. Everything was always at its own pace between you two, the boundaries having been silently set.

You had told Yuna of your situation and rather than try to get you to cry about your feelings and awkwardly comfort you, she instead agreed to help you move out, letting her actions speaking louder than words. Of course Yuna’s definition of help differed from yours. but it was the thought that counted. She knew that when you were ready you’d talk to her about everything. 

“Well apartment D2 you’ve been... “ you paused, recalling the amount of times you’ve nearly burned something, now scratching your neck,  “...decent to me, but it’s time for a new chapter,” you whispered to yourself, anxious for the weeks to come. 

The drive home like almost all of them had the two of you singing to both current and childhood songs without a care in the world even though you two weren’t exactly what people would consider “good” singers. Occasional voice cracks seeping through the bass of the speakers, garnering a laugh from the two of you. 

By the time you got home and finished unpacking, you were not only exhausted but extremely hungry.

“I’m gonna go get us take out,” Yuna announced, getting up from the couch and grabbing your car keys from the rack, almost as if she read your mind. 

And so while she went to get that, you laid on your small childhood bed, staring at the ceiling. You laughed at the multiple glow in the dark stickers you had crookedly placed onto it several years ago, and cringe at the posters of second generation idols you had sloppily posted up on your walls when you were fifteen, now unaware that you were subconsciously grinning. 

It surprised you that your mom for the most part hadn’t moved anything around from your room, for the most part it looked almost exactly as how you left it years ago. The same old baby blue duvet covered your metal twin-sized bed frame, decorated with grey fluffy throw pillows which at the time you thought made you a professional interior designer. Your fingers grazed over the framed pictures you had on your small desk (minus the ones you took to college) of past memories including a photo of your dad piggy back carrying a five year old you who had the biggest smile on her face. A small reminder of what life once was. 

You could feel your eyes getting watery as you continued to stare at the photo, and so you quickly snapped yourself out of it, deciding that you already had enough emotional turmoil on your plate. Instead you plopped back onto bed, unlocked your phone and began to scroll through Twitter occasionally laughing at some memes.

A certain retweet had caught your eye causing you to let out a scoff, “Kim Taehyung NASTY fight with girlfriend Sunhi. Click here for more.” The Kim family were almost insufferable, their names practically plastered everywhere across Korea. Especially Mr. Kim’s son Taehyung who somehow always managed to get his name across the headlines whether it be on TV, magazines, or social media.

“Famous for being a brat,” you muttered to yourself, but ironically before you could click on the link you had heard the door open and close, resulting in you locking your phone and immediately getting up from bed, your stomach desperately ready to stop growling. 

“Im baaaack!” Yuna dramatically squealed, placing the foam takeout containers on your small kitchen table. The scent of the warm food making your mouth water. “I know it’s chilly right now, but the stars are out tonight, so I say we go eat at the top,” she then gave you the puppy dog eyes.

“You don’t need to make such… disturbing...faces for me to agree, you do know that right?” you teased, trying to hide your smirk. 

“Fuck you,” she responded to you while playfully hitting your shoulder.

Despite it being summer, when you had walked outside you immediately felt the crispy cold weather, but it was something you and Yuna had grown accustomed to. The countless number of late nights climbing up your metal ladder to get to the rooftop and watching the small tiny stars had made you two somewhat immune to the nightly cold. Your mom sometimes would even climb up herself to bring hot cocoa, rightfully worried that the two of you would freeze yourselves to death. 

You see your apartment, like the rest of your complex, wasn’t in the greatest condition. The infrastructure of it mostly relying on a mix of cement and brick, rust engulfing most things along with metal bars on each complex’s windows in order to prevent break ins. Crime was not something uncommon in your area, but something that you were used to hearing about as you got older. 

What made the whole situation more ironic was that the rich were separated by a simple six way motorway, acting almost as a bridge between two completely different worlds with their skyscrapers and condos looking down upon you guys. It was only at night when the stars were out and you looked up at the navy blue sky that you felt like for a small moment none of it mattered. The warm milky glow of the moon never failing to soothe you, reminding you that even in the dark there was light. Reminding you that even now which felt as if was one of the darkest hours in your life, there was going to be light. At least that’s what you hoped. 

“This view just never gets old,” you whispered, amazed at the moonlight’s reflection, the speckle of stars only adding to its beauty. Your eyes had once again become watery, a sudden state of reflection washing over you, but you quickly composed yourself before Yuna could notice. 

“What time do you even go in tomorrow?” Yuna asked, her eyes still primarily focused on the view above. 

“Well their flight is at 1PM so my mom told me I should get there by at least 11AM so he can explain everything to me, show me around, and all that other stuff.”

“I don’t see why you have an attitude about it, you’re acting like it’s the worst job in the world!” she scolded you. 

“I know I know, I’ve heard it all already,” you rolled your eyes recalling your mom's lecture and that she expected your attitude to be fixed come Monday morning.

“Well you gotta do what you gotta do,” Yuna mumbled while shrugging her shoulders and continuing to eat her food. 

“You can say that again.... ” you acknowledged her remark, secretly scared for tomorrow, silently hoping that all went well, “and I thought I was a slob,” you snorted, watching how sloppily Yuna was slurping her noodles. She raised her hand, smacking you on the shoulder. 

“Hey, watch—” 

Monday Morning.

“Where you’re going, you asshole!” you shouted over your window, your irritation fixated at the man who cut you off without signaling. God how you hated driving in the city. All the one way signs, the assholes who called themselves drivers, and the narrow streets which were hard to maneuver in. It all caused unnecessary stress, but here you were nonetheless. 

“Turn right in 1.2 miles,” you let out a snide scoff as you entered the parking lot, there was nothing but car of the year models ranging from Mercedes Benz’s, BMW’s, Range Rover’s, and more. All making your car look worse than it already did. 

Making your way into the lobby, you were in complete utter awe of the place. From the giant diamond chandelier hanging from above to the sparkly interior design which screamed Hollywood glam. The ivory colored double staircase reminded you of Titanic, the color scheme of the whole place was overwhelmingly beautiful. You could only imagine what Mr. Choi’s condo could look like as you made your way to the front desk. 

Ding. 

To your surprise a boy, a very handsome one to say the least, appeared from what you assumed was his office. He looked no older than you, his hair dyed a crimson-red color giving him a youthful appearance accompanied with a face that had both sharp and soft features. Before you could ponder on why such a good looking person was working and not living at a place like this, your thoughts were interrupted. 

“Hello, welcome to The Oaks condos, how can I help you?” he asked, sounding eerily similar to a robot. It reminded you of yourself at your old job, something you certainly would not miss.

“Um I’m Mr. Choi’s new assistant,” you looked for his name tag which coincidentally he didn’t have on, but you could immediately see his shoulders relax once he had heard the words “new assistant”. 

“Ah yes! You’re Ms. Y/L/N’s daughter right? Y/N right?” you nodded in agreement, a smile now appearing on his face, causing the corner of your lips to turn upward. Wow was this guy handsome, you only hoped that the heat you felt on your cheeks wasn’t visible to the eye. 

“Your mom called me to give me a heads up. I’m Hoseok, I’m what you can consider the receptionist around here,” he said, reaching his hand out for you to shake. 

Hoseok. The name sounded so familiar, you could’ve sworn you'd heard your mom mention the name a couple times. 

A light bulb then went off in your head, as you remembered the countless number of times she had tried setting you up on a date with him, but wow did she fail to mention that Hoseok had the literal face of a GQ model. 

An awkward cough brought you back to reality as you had realized that Hoseok’s hand had been stuck out for quite some time, you were now certain that your face must’ve resembled a ripe tomato. You quickly returned the handshake, internally scolding yourself for making yourself look like an idiot. Here you were, a grown woman, acting like a teenager again. 

“So um, you seem um ... pretty young to be working here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he teased, “I replaced my aunt after she retired and the owner of this place trusted her to teach me well, and well I guess I’ve been doing a pretty good job if I’m still employed,” he explained, playfully winking at you, confirming that he knew the effect he had on people. You stood there in silence, deciding that it was just best to say nothing, look pretty, and nod. Thus causing him throw his head back and laugh, making small claps with his hands. With the way you were acting, you couldn’t blame him. He must’ve thought you were some kind of walking circus act. 

“You’ll get used to it, you know...” you now had a look a look of confusion on your face which only made him laugh harder, but before you could ask him any questions, he changed the topic. 

“Well I assume your mom gave you Mr. Choi’s key pass, correct?” you shyly nodded no in response. “Ah I see, let’s go ahead and get that set up for you then,” you watched him as he began to type some things onto the computer in front of him. Compared to how fast his fingers were moving across the keyboard, he made you like a complete newb on the keyboard. The boy was clearly now in his own zone. 

“First name, Y/N?” 

“Yes.” 

“Last name, Y/L/N?” 

“Yes.” 

“You see where that X mark is on your left?” he pointed at the microscopic mark on the floor to which you followed, “Okay now look at where that pretty gold flower is on the wall, and say cheese!” Before you could even properly prepare yourself you heard the sound of the shutter go off, immediately causing Hoseok to begin cracking up. 

He turned the desktop computer to face towards you, showing the horrendous picture the camera took of you. One eye had come out mid-blink, your mouth slightly agape from fixing your hair in the moment. “Hey that’s not—!” Before you could start complaining, Hoseok had quickly interrupted. 

“Don’t worry, don’t worry! It’s only for the program’s database which only Rachel and I see? Ain’t that right Rachel?” Rachel? Who the hell was that? 

Glancing around to see who this Rachel person was, you were surprised to see a very old woman seated behind the front desk seemingly caring less about what he had said, a permanent scowl on her face along with a small groan coming out of her mouth as a response. “That’s my girl,” Hoseok jested, “Now you,” he dramatically pointed at you, “come back over here.” 

You muttered a quiet “Whatever,” peeved by his little antics. Maybe it was because Rachel was old but you could slowly see why she had that look on her face.  

“Place your index finger on the small machine when it lights up,” he pointed to the small biometric scanning machine, similar to the ones used at the DMV. Following the simple instructions you allowed the machine to scan your finger, assuming it was going to be used for something important around here. 

All you could do was observe him as he finished typing who knows what. You observed how his eyebrows quirked as he continued to type, a satisfied smile gracing his lips once he was done. 

Too caught up in his appearance, the sudden tug at your hand had caught you by surprise, yanking you from where you were standing. “I’ll be back Rachel! I’m going to show little Ms. Y/N here around,” Rachel as before. only grunted in response. 

“So here of course we have the lobby, this is where all the..” he glanced around making sure no one was around before whispering, “snobby folks come in and out of every day. Them and their visitors of course, so hopefully you don’t have to interact with any of them.”

“I don’t think all of this will be neces—” before you could continue he pulled your hand again now guiding you towards another area. You glanced at the time on your phone, hoping this so called tour wasn’t going to take too long. 

“Right here is the entrance to the patio and pool area, which is what you’ll use your fingerprint for as well as entering Mr. Choi’s condo and any other amenities we have around here,” he reached into his pocket pulling out a laminated card, “but if for any reason our system’s down then this right here should do the trick for amenities only, you’ll have to come up to the front desk if the finger pad in the elevator isn’t working. For precautionary reasons of course,” he explained, most of it pretty self explanatory, except the elevator part but you assumed he’d get to that soon.  

“So the entrance to every apartment is through the elevator which is right there on your left,” You followed him as he began to walk towards it, placing his finger on the elevator’s finger scanning pad, “The stairs are really only here for decoration considering no one uses them, I mean unless of course you want to climb up 7 flights of stairs everyday,” You quickly nodded your head no, “Only resident’s and employee fingerprints allow the elevator to open but,” the two of you stepped into the elevator, “the fingerpad inside the elevator only allows certain people to access certain floors. Since Mr. Choi’s going to be out on vacation with his vacation, you are currently the only person with access to his floor,” you raised your finger, slightly confused. 

“Don’t you technically—” 

“I do, but let’s say I were to enter a resident’s condo without their explicit permission, they’d immediately be notified through their phone as I’m also under strict contract.” Your mouth made an “O” shape, impressed by how everything was ran around here. Another question then popped up in your mind as he clicked the elevator’s 7th button. 

“Well what if there’s more than one person in the elevator? What then?” 

“Ah good question! Since you don’t know any of the residents here yet, I suggest you always try to go into the elevator by yourself, and if the situation arises where you feel uncomfortable or paranoid about who's in the elevator with you then just go back down to the lobby of course and wait it out, but we’ve never had any cases of break ins or anything like that. Especially not in an area like this. Things around here are ran very smoothly,” he shrugged, “I mean around here the burglars don’t wear black ski mask and carry scary weapons. In fact the real criminals live on these same floors,” he deadpanned, slightly catching you by surprise. 

1.

“I know what you’re probably thinking, who the hell makes an elevator an entrance to their home? I thought the same thing when I first started, but for some reason they see it as some kind of luxury feature around here...”

2. 

“Mm it’s expected if I’m being honest,” you chuckled, slowly finding the confidence to make small talk with Hoseok without getting so flustered. A pregnant silence had made it’s way into the elevator. 

3.

“I’m sorry about your mom by the way...” though he had said it out the blue, you could feel the sincerity behind his words. All you could do was give him a small smile of acknowledgment, feeling as if it was too early to feel someone’s pity. “She talks about you a lot...” he said, causing you to smile. 

4. 

“My Y/N is going to one of the top schools in all of Korea! My Y/N is going to become a successful businesswoman! My Y/N is so pretty Hobi, a boy like you should take her out some time!” he mimicked your mom’s voice, now causing you to genuinely laugh. 

5. 

“That definitely sounds like her,” you giggled, your cheeks now becoming a tinging shade of pink at the mention of her trying to playing matchmaker. 

“You should’ve seen her face when I told her I was gay,” your eyes immediately felt as if they had bulged out of your eye sockets, your face now completely red at his previous words. He on the other hand was now laughing as hard as ever, his hand clutching onto his stomach from laughing so hard. 

6. 

“I told you you’d get used to me,” he said in-between laughs, tears now welting out of his eyes from his laughing fit. Things definitely started to make sense, especially now that you were inconveniently remembering how your mom had completely stopped mentioning Hoseok in any romantic way to you. You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment because here you were already fantasizing about the dude. 

“You're also probably wondering why I’m working at a place like this, that’s what most people ask me when they visit round here, but...”

7. 

“I’ll have to answer your questions some other time Ms. Y/N because well here we are! I’ll have your parking pass ready by the time leave but for now just place your finger on the scanner and off you go,” you followed his instructions, opening the doors of the elevator, stepping out, and waving a small goodbye watching him return the wave as the doors slowly closed. In all honesty you were genuinely happy at the fact that you had made a friend around here even though you were still slightly embarrassed about the moment that had played out only minutes ago. 

But before you could dwell on it any longer, you heard a voice call out your name, “Ah Y/N, good you’re here right on time!” You formally greeted who you presumed was Mrs. Choi, slightly surprised at the fact that she even knew your name. 

“You don’t have to be so formal. Muah. Muah,” she pulled you in for a hug and giving you a kiss on each cheek like the French do. “I’m so sorry to hear about your mother, tell her I send my condolences.” You returned her fake smile, not expecting yourself to despise her this early on. Oh were you glad she wasn’t going to be around.

Mrs. Choi in a way reminded you of Regina George’s mom despite not having any kids. Needles and plastic were definitely her best friends, and her attempt to try and act younger than her actual age was quite cringe to watch. 

Soon after greeting each other, two pomeranians began to circle around you barking. You bent down trying to pet them, but you guess they picked up the snob’s attitude because all they did was continue barking and one even tried to bite you. 

“If it isn’t Y/N, I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!” you snapped your attention to the man himself, Mr. Choi, who was coming down his stairs with a thick black luggage case in his hand. The last time you saw him was around 9 years ago when he had lived on the other side of the city. Your mom had to take you to work with her that day because your neighbor was unavailable to watch after you and you were still too young to be home alone.

Mr. Choi had definitely changed in appearance, his once full head of black hair was now clearly balding, he had gained some weight, and overall looked like a man who had long been worn out. You couldn’t help but think that this vacation was probably needed, especially with a wife like his.  

“I’ll wait for you in the car my love. It was nice seeing you Y/N, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks!” she squealed, waving goodbye as she stepped into the elevator, the dogs following right behind her.

You could hear Mr. Choi sigh, probably already mentally preparing himself for the next 10 weeks. So this is what a pretentious marriage looks like, you thought to yourself. You theorized that Mr. Choi must’ve only married her for her looks and she for his money, and well no wonder there were no kids in the picture. It’d be the ultimate death of both of them. You actually felt pity for the man, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have a choice in marrying her.

You brought your attention back to Mr. Choi who must have been rambling on for some time now, “My most recent assistant just quit on me for no reason,” a genuine puzzled look on his face, “something about me being too overwhelming for her, as if I'm supposed to know what that means,” he scoffed. “So when your mom mentioned you well I knew I could trust her!”

Your mom truly never failed at mentioning you to whoever and whenever she possibly could, it was both a blessing and a curse. 

“So… what exactly am I going to be in charge of?” You blurted out, the question had been lingering in your mind since the night prior.

“Good question, I’d show you around, but time is on the essence. I basically just need you to organize my office, file paperwork, organize Amelia’s closet, go run errands for me, pick up documents, but most importantly I’m going to need you to attend certain events in place for me, but of course just introduce yourself as my assistant, apologize as to why I couldn’t be there, and most importantly keep your eyes and ears open. In my world we like to keep… tabs… on one another,” your eyebrow quirked in curiosity, “and since I won’t have any signal I expect to have a report ready for me when I come back so I’m caught up with everything of course,” he grabbed something from the coffee table, “I made a planner for you with everything that needs to be done on a day to day basis,” he then proceeded in handing you the bulk gray planner, “It includes passwords, data sheets, and all that good stuff.” 

You were amazed at how his demeanor had changed from clumsy-like to serious businessman in the blink of an eye. It was actually quite intimidating.

“Finances need to be kept in check, investors need to be accommodated, and well I just want to come back to everything being normal,” he began to gather the remainder of his stuff, “also your money is going to be wired to your bank account on a weekly basis and well that’s really it. I’ll see you in 10 weeks Ms. L/N! Good luck!”

“Good luck..” you quietly repeated his final parting words back to yourself, watching as the elevator doors closed. You could see why his last assistant quit, you didn’t even know where to start. You took a deep breath deciding to make your way up to his office, your day was just getting started.

The condo may have looked like it came out of a show from HGTV, but Mr. Choi’s office looked like it came out of an episode of Hoarders Buried Alive. There were scattered papers everywhere, his desk was practically hidden by all the stacks of papers. Food wrappers and aluminum soda cans thrown around like the slob he was, the stench making you want to throw up. 

“Oh my God…” you said to yourself, this man was just a mess. 

You skimmed through some of the papers all of them having to do with different things ranging from firm performance, finances, legal forms, and much more. You could already feel a headache coming, but at the end of the day this was your job. You grabbed some storage boxes and began to label them with a black marker.

Your plan was to separate the papers into two sections: Important and Unimportant. Once you finished separating, you’d then shred what you deemed unimportant, and further organize what was important by date and then transfer them to his filing cabinets. It would take time, but it was the only method you could possibly think of. Your goal was to stop by 3 and then start working on Mrs. Choi’s closet.

You put on your earphones and began to play some music so that you wouldn’t be so stressed while organizing everything.

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s and bottles of bubbles…” you hummed to yourself and before you knew it, it was already 3. You had thrown out all of the trash in his office, and for the majority part most of his papers were organized. 

You sighed, now to get started with her damn closet.

Mrs. Choi’s closet was its own giant room, marble shelves stacked with bags and shoes, racks full of clothes, jewelry sparkling under their display showcase. The sparkling glass chandelier on the ceiling adding an extra oomph to the room. 

Hermes. Gucci. Chanel. Versace. Burberry. Balmain. Louis Vuitton. Saint Laurent. Fendi.

Any brand you could think of was in this closet, it was unbelievable. The closet had to be worth several thousands, no millions. So many questions were running through your head. How could someone just have so much? What do you even do with this amount of clothes? You were truly left speechless.

Shaking your head, you began to pick up all the clothes on the floor deciding that it was best to organize everything by color, your day almost done.

By the time your alarm went off it was already six which is the time that Mr. Choi had said you could leave, and it wasn’t like he was paying you extra for staying any longer and doing more work. For the most part, you had finished with both the office and closet and were just ready to go home, jump into bed, and watch some Netflix.

You went down the elevator,  satisfied at your first day on the job. This was going to be easy, you thought to yourself.

Just as you were leaving the lobby you heard Hoseok, “Hey I had your parking permit printed out!”  You stopped dead in your tracks, turned around and walked towards his desk. It wouldn’t hurt to make a little bit of conversation, right?

“Ah I had forgotten about that, thanks,” you chuckled.

“It’s no problem! The parking officer loves giving tickets.… so how was your first day?”

“Um not bad actually, a little boring to be honest,” you pondered at his question, for the most part you were being truthful, “Tomorrow I’m supposed to go and get Mr. Choi’s Mercedes Benz checked out, and then from there go and pick up some paperwork from some legal firm, transfer it onto his computer.”

“Well at least he’s not around to be over your shoulder, he practically had his last assistant going nuts,” he responded, laughing at the memory.

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow,” you yawned, giving him a small wave goodbye.

“Hey well let me know if you ever need anything, and I’m being serious,” and to that you nodded, taking note of what he said.

Monday Afternoon.

[Incoming Facetime from: Ma 💞💗💓💕]

Immediately you clicked “accept”, having just gotten home and tidying up a couple things around the apartment. 

“So how was your first day?” your mom immediately questions you, clearly eager to know. 

“It was pretty decent ma, nothing I can’t handle,” you chuckled, “but wow was that man’s office practically a pig pen,” you complained only causing your mom to start laughing. 

“Oh I know,” she comments, only causing you to roll your eyes. 

“I think these 10 weeks should go by quite smoothly if I say so myself,” you sounded genuinely optimistic, “I met Hoseok you know,” your embarrassment had long subsided, instead finding it hilarious.

“Ah my Hobi!” your mom sounding delighted at the mention of the young boy, “a hard worker that boy is I'm telling you.” 

“He seems like it,” you had long concluded that he was when he had been explaining everything about the residency to you. He seemed like one of those people who even though they disliked their job, still put in their absolute everything into making sure they were the best at it. “You shoud’ve seen me giving him the googly eyes earlier,” you joked around. 

“Hobi is—” 

“Gay, yeah I know. I had to find that out the hard way,” you covered your face with your hands, playfully sulking. 

“Why do you think I stopped trying to set the two of you up,” your mom laughed. 

“Mm really ma? I would’ve never guessed,” sarcasm dripping from your words. 

“Hey remember who you’re sp—” 

“Anywayssss, how are you holding up out there?” you took a sip from the cup of juice you had served yourself earlier, your mom’s dismissive expression returning back to a smile. 

“Well the food around here is horrible! I told my nurse that they should let me in the kitchen for a change, but all she did was laugh!” You grinned at the idea of your mom actually working at the cafeteria for the sake of it. 

"Ah well I’lll make sure to bring you something on Wednesday.” 

“Did anything arrive in the mail today about the invoice for everything?” your mom asked, a look of worry now on her face. 

“No ma, and don’t even worry about anything like that okay? Focus on your treatment, and you let me handle the rest alright?” your voice now becoming stern, leave it to your mom to start worrying about finances. 

“I know, I know, but I know some fees were coming up and well—” 

“And I’m telling you to leave it to me, okay?” 

“Ah okay then, well I'm going to sleep already,” she yawned, “they’ve been prodding needles in me all day,” she tried to say it as lighthearted as she could, but she quickly regretted it as she saw the sudden sad look on your face. 

“Goodnight ma, I’ll see you Wednesday alright?” 

“Okay then Y/N, I love you.” 

“I love you too,” and with a small pressured smile, you clicked “end call”. An immediate sigh coming from your lips as you glanced at the several unsealed envelopes on your coffee table, many of the scattered papers stamped with a red “PAST DUE”. 

School, rent, the water bill, the light bill, the gas bill, your phone bill, the old hospital bills, the new ones, all due in such small amounts of time with almost no room in-between dates to rest. 

And so that night you laid in bed staring at your ceiling for what felt like hours unable to go to sleep. The only thing on your mind was how you were going to get the funds to pay for everything because well if you didn’t then you’d be left in hospital debt with an eviction notice right at your door and a whole bunch of other problems that you didn’t want to think about.

Deciding that it was best to get a breath of fresh air, you made your way to the rooftop, watching as the scattered stars glimmered in the sky. You sorta wished that life could be like those childhood TV shows where a shooting star would pass by and make your wish all come true, but the fact was, is that your life isn’t a movie or a tv show. This was your reality, and you were just going to have to suck it up.   

You unlocked your phone and texted the only person you possibly could.

[To: Yuna 🤍]

[10:09] you up??

You tapped your foot, waited for her to reply.

[From: Yuna 🤍]

[10:10] i'm offended that that’s even a question tbh

[you]

[10:11] you think you can come over? pleaseeee 🥺

[10:12] ik it’s late and you’re probably tired and work tmrw but i just rlly need some company rn

[From: Yuna 🤍]

[10:13] i’ll be there in 10, don’t judge how i look

[you]

[10:14] when have i ever…

Soon enough you heard a knock on your door.

“I brought your favorite snacks,” Yuna had a giant grin plastered on her face to which you couldn’t help but smile at. Her makeup-free face and bright Hello Kitty pajamas told you that she was probably in bed when you texted her. 

Once she slid off her shoes, she was quick to make herself feel at home by jumping onto your couch. Hell, this was basically her second home.

“Do you work tomorrow?” you asked her.

“I called off, I’ve already accumulated a lot of hours anyway and well I might as well start putting them to use,” she stated, as she munched on a freshly opened bag of barbeque chips. 

Yuna was a retail clerk at the local mall, attending fashion school at night in hopes of landing herself a future internship, but like you was currently on summer vacation. Even in middle school, becoming a world renowned fashion designer had always been her dream, having gone to the the principal’s office a countless number of times because she added some kind of tailor to the plain old school uniform whether it be bedazzles or embellishing some kind of bizarre pattern onto it. 

Yuna though was sadly a case of a prodigy without the resources, accepted to one of Seoul’s top fashion schools when the two of you had graduated high school. You were there the day she opened her letter of acceptance, the two of you along with her family celebrating by going to one of Seoul’s most expensive restaurants. But just as you were there the day she was accepted, you were also her shoulder to cry on the day she realized that the money she had saved up wouldn’t even cover a quarter of tuition costs, and her applications for scholarships had all fallen through. 

What you admired most about Yuna was that disappointment didn't stop her from trying. Her designs were truly one of a kind, and you weren’t even saying that because she was your best friend and had a bias towards her. You could only hope that one day she’d be recognized for her talents. 

You grabbed your blanket from your room and sat next to her on the couch. She stared at you while you flicked through different channels on the TV, sensing that something was wrong. 

You could practically feel her burning a hole through your head and so you decided to answer the question you knew was looming in her head, “I’m not okay,” you mumbled, letting out a sardonic laugh. “I’m trying to act like I am, but I'm just not,” you stared off into the TV not wanting to make eye contact with her, “it’s just not fair,” you whispered, confused with yourself as to whether you were sad or angry.

Yuna could feel her heart wrench as she listened.

“My mom’s been nothing but a kind person, I’ve been nothing but a kind person, and so I can’t help but ask why? What did we do to end up in a situation like this?” you hadn’t even realized that tears were falling from your eyes until you felt the salty drops of water make their way onto your lips, dripping from your chin, “The whole time I was in Mr. Choi’s condo looking around at the million dollar paintings, and organizing his wife’s thousand dollar outfits I kept thinking to myself how can a man like Mr. Choi just not care? He didn’t even bother to ask how she was...” you seethed, the emptiness in your voice had now become anger.

Yuna scoffed, “The rich are always looking down on us like we’re just nothing but money makers to them, demanding their respect like they deserve it for free.”

“I just,” you paused for a second, “I just don’t know what to do, I think I might have to start looking for a second job or something, or maybe even take a gap year...” you breathed out, running a hand through your hair in distress. 

And maybe one could call it fate with what you and Yuna had seen on your TV that night. Destiny perhaps. Whatever it was, it was going to open the doors to a brand new world. A world that you had only ever caught small glimpses of.

“Kim Taehyung is officially Seoul’s most eligible bachelor, our sources have confirmed that he and on and off again girlfriend Sunhi have called it quits permanently this time. The reason you may ask? Rumor has it that she was caught cheating on him,” the entertainment reporter had a giant grin on her face, “That’s right ladies, the heir to Kim Enterprises is back on the market.”

Pictures which you assumed were recent showed Taehyung partying, drinking, flashing expensive cars, and at red carpet events for major fashion brands. “Tweet us using hasht—” you changed the channel on the TV, bored of the topic at hand.

“I swear he’s the only person they talk about nowadays, I mean literally he’s everywhere!” you chuckled, turning your attention to Yuna who for some odd reason now had a look of disbelief on her face.

“Y/N… how did I— no how did we not think of this earlier?” Yuna got up from the couch like an excited toddler causing you to tilt your head to the side in honest confusion. 

“What the hell are you talking about now,” you said, laughing at how childish she looked. She was now pacing herself back and forth across your living room, her adrenaline practically visible.

“You know I don’t normally believe in this stuff but holy shit this has got to be a sign!” At this point you were convinced she was talking to herself considering she wasn’t even making direct eye contact when she said that. She frantically ran her hands through her hair, “I mean you have the quote on quote resources, the clothes, my fashion expertise, the car, the events, and he’s single now. Oh my God how did we not think of this,” you carefully listened to what she said trying to piece everything together. Resources? Clothes? Was she talking about Kim Taehyung?

Your eyes immediately widened when you put two and two together and realized what she was so excited about, and it was now your turn to get up from the couch.

“You’re literally insane you understand that right!?” you stared at her, completely baffled. You thought stopping her from pacing around would bring her back to reality and get that grin off her face, but if anything it did the opposite.

“Y/N! What are the chances that as we’re talking about your finance issues and then something like that comes up! What are the chances that you literally work for a millionaire who's going to be gone for several weeks and expects you to attend his events! You can’t tell me that this isn’t hmm…  I don’t know… Fate!” All you could do was stare at her in disbelief as she began to mumble something about this being something “straight out of a movie”. You were waiting for her to laugh and tell you this was all some kind of joke, but you soon realized she was being serious.

“The fact that you’re actually being serious about this is ridiculous!”

“And the fact that you think it’s ridiculous is what’s really crazy!” you shook your head refusing to accept what she was alluding to.

“Yuna! Let’s be rational he—”

“No, just listen to me Y/N. Please,” you looked at Yuna who had now calmed down, her face completely serious, “I know it seems out of the ballpark…” you nodded in agreement, “You have the opportunity to infiltrate the rich, and not just anyone but the Kim family! You know how many rumors there are about that family and their business!” she shouted while adding extra emphasis on the word infiltrate as if this was some kind of spy movie.

You sighed, “And how exactly would I do that? How could I not get caught up in lies? Why the Kim family? Why not not just steal some of Mr. Choi’s belongings and sell them on Ebay or something? Just what exactly are y—”

“You didn’t let me finish!” you grunted in annoyance. There were just so many questions running through your head, did she not realize the risk in what she was proposing? The consequences?

“You’re a stranger in their world, a brand new person … a brand new identity! You already have to go to these events as it is, and you can’t steal anything from Mr. Choi and sell it because I mean clearly he knows who you are. They, as in the rich, do not,” Yuna knew she had managed to grab your attention based on the look of skepticism on your face, “And technically you’re not going to be stealing Mrs. Choi’s clothes, you’ll be um ... borrowing them.” she flashed a giddy smile, “10 weeks Y/N, 10 weeks to get Kim Taehyung to fall in love with you, blackmail money out of that family, and then poof you disappear without a trace!”

“You have no idea how many questions are running through my head at this very moment.”

“And I think I can give you answers to them all, but please Y/N just think about it! It would solve all of your problems, financially at least,” you jokingly hit her shoulder as she teased you with the last part of her sentence, “you wouldn’t be doing it for yourself, you’d be doing it for your mom.”

“For my mom…” you mumbled to yourself. Yuna stared at your blank expression. She could only assume that you were letting everything sink in before making a decision. On one hand you’d be able to pay for all of your expenses while still getting your job done, but on the other you'd be using someone under a false pretense in order to blackmail money out of them. You’d literally be infiltrating the rich. You were scared. What if you got caught? Would you go to jail? What would happen to your mom?

You had made your decision.

“I trust you Yuna… I really do…” she now had a worrisome look on her face, “and so..” without even realizing it Yuna had been crossing her fingers, “I’m in.”  

“Oh my God,” she let out a sigh of both relief and disbelief, a beaming smile on her face.

“But!” her smile quickly disappeared after hearing your tone, “we need to plan this thoroughly, like a solid proof plan by tonight on pen and paper, you got me?” she nodded in agreement, “and I think there’s someone we need involved in this... “

She tilted her head in confusion.

“Who?”

Tuesday Morning.

“Yuna this is Hoseok, Hoseok this is Yuna,” the two shook hands giving one another a warm smile.

Yuna began eyeing you in a way of saying “Are you sure about this?”. You understood why she was skeptical of Yuna whether or not she’d agree to everything, hell you had your own doubts. What if Hoseok said no? Worse, what if he completely snitched you out? Then you’d be stuck with no job, no money, and probably blacklisted from all major companies in Seoul by Mr. Choi himself with the label “thief” over your head. You had to reassure yourself that everything would be just fine, “So what brings you guys here?”

“Well I was hoping I could talk to you um…” you glanced around, “somewhere private,” you whispered giving him a shy smile, “maybe up in Mr. Choi’s condo,” you offered remembering that Rachel could possibly be hearing (though you highly doubted she’d care).  

“Oh um… sure, let me just tell Rachel to cover for me,” he awkwardly dismissed himself to the back.

“I don’t know Y/N … he seems like the type of person to not want to risk his job..” Yuna whispered to you, she was clearly on high alert.

“He told me I could ask him for anything, and well I know I’ve only known her for about 24 hours, but I don’t know… something about him just seems reliable, I can't explain it. It’s just better to have him on our team than to be suspicious of us. I can’t do this whole infiltration thing being paranoid that the receptionist is going to snitch on me when he sees me walk out with clothes worth thousands of dollars,” you replied, “And if this really is playing out as a movie like you say, then we need someone whose tech savvy.” 

“You have a point,” she chuckled, “wait how do you know he’s good at computers again?” 

Your mind flashed back to the night before, while Yuna was asleep you had gone full stalker mode on Hoseok to get to the bottom of who he was. After hours of looking through different social media platforms you had ended up finding both his Twitter and Instagram @/junghsk, where he had pictures of his college graduation from 2 years ago. Major? Computer Science. It explained why he looked like he was in some Matrix movie the other day, and though of course it didn't mean automatically he was an expert, he definitely must’ve been better than both you and Yuna combined when it came to programming which is something (based on your plan) you were going to need for future endeavors. 

You also came to find out that he was an avid animal lover, taught cardio dance classes on morning weekends, likes to live tweet show series such as Games of Thrones, and is in a committed relationship with someone named Min Yoongi. What could you say? You liked to do intensive research. 

Once Hoseok returned the three of you went up to Mr. Choi’s condo, the elevator ride up was definitely awkward compared to the day before. 

Yuna was in clear awe of the place. You could tell she wanted to give herself a personal tour, but you shot her a look dismissing the idea as she could easily do that later.

“We should sit,” you suggested pointing to the kitchen’s island, "Yuna can make us all some instant ramen,” she immediately shot you a look of annoyance, but didn’t argue with you making her way to the pantry.  

“So...” he quietly mumbled at an attempt to break the ice, making small tapping noises on the island’s surface with his fingers. 

Flashing him a pretentious smile, you awkwardly glanced around trying to think of something to make small talk with, “Um do you like Games of Thrones?” 

Immediately he grinned, you expected a “yes” to come out of his mouth but instead he said, “Ah so that was you yesterday!” 

The color drained out of your face , wait what? He began to laugh, making small claps as he threw his head back, “You were stalking me,” his face scrunched up as he began to tease you. 

“What are you talking about?” your tone becoming defensive along with your eyebrows furrowing, only causing his fits of laughter to become louder. His index finger wiping the tears that began to form in his eyes. 

“Don’t act like you didn't like and unlike my picture at like 3 in the morning!” He suddenly pulled out his phone, showing the notification which he hadn’t cleared from his phone, showing your username and the words “liked your photo” following right after. You had forgotten about that... 

It was already 3AM and you were beginning to doze off, eyelids barely even open. You saw the white heart on Instagram appear on a 56 week old picture which you immediately unliked, also causing you to jolt out of your comfortable position in panic. 

Damn you Instagram. “Whatever you need must be pretty important if you’re up at 3AM instastalking me.” 

“Oh shut up—” 

“Well since you were on there, what hair color do you prefer on me: red, brown, or black?” You scowled before muttering a quiet “brown”. “Really I’ve been told red looks best on me, hmm...” he pondered, pressing his index finger onto his bottom lip. "So are you going to tell me what this is all about anytime soon or ...” he said, his tone coming out more demanding than he intended, but Hoseok was the kind of person that didn’t like to beat around the bush, rather preferring to be told things straight up as they were. 

“Okay..” You started, explaining to him of your situation starting from your mom, to the bills you needed to pay, why this job just wasn’t enough, why you needed to go ahead with your plan, why you needed him to be in on everything, and emphasizing that you weren’t doing this for yourself but your mom. By the time you finished explaining, Yuna was already done making the noodles.

Hoseok sat there in silence, you could hear your heart from your chest, your fingers getting slightly sweaty as you thought of the different possible outcomes. The deafening silence had made you feel like you guys were there for hours. Honestly, you could have heard a pin drop. 

It wasn’t until you saw his signature smile beginning to form on his face that you could’ve sworn you felt bricks actually fall off your shoulders.

“Okay let’s do it,” he stated as he began to slurp on his noodles.

“You’re in?” Yuna asked in complete shock, eyes completely widened. He nodded in return clearly enjoying his food, “You don’t have any questions? No concerns?”

Hoseok shrugged, “Mm well of course I’m curious as to what exactly the plan is, which I’m sure you’ll be explaining to me soon, but nope. I’d probably say no if the cause wasn’t for something important,” he looked at you giving a warm compassionate smile, “and this has got to be the most interesting thing that’s happened on this job for the past 2 years so there’s that,” his brows knitting remembering past situations with residents, “and lastly these snobs deserve what’s coming to them,” he finished off causing all three of you to laugh. 

“Well then cheers to mission… ummm... “ Yuna placed her finger on her chin, causing you to facepalm yourself as she was trying to think of a name for something so irrelevant.

“7 Rings,” Hoseok interjected , “like the Ariana Grande song. I want it, I got it!” 

“You like my hair gee thanks just bought it!” you guys simultaneously sang at the top of your lungs, clinking each other’s drinks.

And so that was how mission “7 Rings” came into fruition, but of course like everything else in the world, nothing ever goes as planned. If only you had realized then that things were going to change, whether they were for the better or for the worse… well that was for you to find out on your own.

author’s note 🧚🏻 : SK has universal health care but for the sake of the plot we’re going to have to pretend they have a private healthcare system so please don’t attack me lmao. Also please like & repost as it keeps me motivated to write and update faster !! Thank you in advance if you do 💞

#btswritingcafe #bts fic #bts smut #bts angst #taehyung fic #taehyung/reader #taehyung fanfic #tae fic #tae fanfic #bangtan fanfic #bangtan smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung series #7 Rings #kim taehyung #kth #kth fanfic

[carromeaway]

Dazai is a Sociopath

Dazai is a Sociopath

A Persuasive Essay About Why Dazai is a Sociopath

By @carromeaway

Dedicated to @/bsdthoughts on Twitter

Created to annoy said user

Also, I thought this would be a good way to practice how to write arguments

This may contain spoilers! Read at your own risk.

Also trigger warning! Mentions of suicide and self-harm!

Oh, also here’s a PDF version if you don’t wanna read it here: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1aNYWMTb8wNEaoZGb9277_UcsUzNQjoHP/view

The definition of a sociopath, stated by the Oxford English Dictionary, is “a person with a personality disorder manifesting itself in extreme antisocial attitudes and behavior and a lack of conscience.” In this essay, I will be explaining the personality disorder and how it correlates to Dazai Osamu’s character in Bungou Stray Dogs. I will be focusing on four key points for my argument; how Dazai fits the attributes of a sociopath, why I do not consider him a psychopath, how it affects his relationship with others, and how it may explain his past and his actions. Keep in mind that this is only a theory and I will be including both assumptions and speculations to support my argument. 

Let us begin with the point how Dazai fits the attributes of a sociopath. Common signs of a person with sociopathy, or an antisocial personality disorder, include lying or deceiving others for a goal, being charismatic and manipulative, criminal behavior, lack of empathy and/or remorse, struggles with forming good relationships, recklessness for his and others’ safety, and irresponsibility among other things. Dazai has exhibited behavior with all of these symptoms. I could give a variety of examples where Dazai has lied or manipulated someone for the sake of achieving his objective. For the sake of keeping this shorter, I’ll provide only a couple of situations.

    Dazai had been caught by the Port Mafia, albeit on purpose, and came across his old partner from his days in the mafia, Nakahara Chuuya. This happens in the tenth episode of the anime and the tenth chapter of the manga. During his interaction with Chuuya, Dazai manipulates Chuuya by blackmailing him using the fact that Chuuya was the one who released Dazai from his chains. He also blackmails the mafia by sending them a threatening letter containing a simple statement, warning the mafia that if he were to die, then all their secrets would be exposed. Another example of his manipulative behaviour would be when it is insinuated that Dazai deflates Sakaguchi Ango’s airbag in his car so he would sustain multiple injuries when another car rammed into theirs. This was to force Ango, a government agent, to cover up the 35 murders that Izumi Kyouka, an Armed Detective Agency member, had committed. This takes place in episode 19 (episode 7 of season 2) of the anime and chapter 26 and 33 of the manga.

    Dazai has also displayed recklessness, irresponsibility, and a lack of empathy and remorse. Using the same example as before, Dazai showed no remorse for Ango when he was severely injured by the car accident. Dazai is often irresponsible, pushing his work on to others and lazing about when he should have been productive. This is a repeated pattern throughout the entirety of the manga and anime, so I’m sure if you’re reading this, you have no need for any examples. Additionally, Dazai has always been very reckless with his actions, his plans often include someone being thrown to the sharks. You can see this in episode 21 (episode 9 of season 2) in the anime and chapters 30-31 in the manga when Chuuya is forced to use Corruption to defeat H.P. Lovecraft as planned by Dazai. 

    I could go on for a while about Dazai’s sociopathic traits, but that is not the focus of this essay, so let us move on to my second point. Dazai is not a psychopath. Psychopaths and sociopaths have many similar symptoms. Every trait I listed previously are ones that both types of people share. So, why would I not consider Dazai a psychopath? There is a very simple reason for that. One of the biggest differences between a psychopath and a sociopath is the ability to be attached to others. While psychopaths may be able to fake a relationship, whether it’s platonic or romantic, they are completely unable to form real bonds with other people. On the other hand, while it may be difficult for them, sociopaths can have genuine relationships with others. 

    My biggest piece of evidence for this section is the bond between Oda Sakunosuke and Dazai. Dazai in the Dark Era, when he is in the Port Mafia, and Dazai when he joins the Armed Detective Agency are two very different parts of the same whole. Dazai in the Port Mafia is quite a bit more serious and emotionless, while Dazai in the ADA is much more lighthearted compared to his former self. There is a huge fact to point out, though. Dazai with Odasaku was strikingly dissimilar to how he acted without Odasaku there. Dazai acted a lot more childish with Odasaku around, exhibiting their comfortability around each other. They had a close bond and Dazai was a lot more vulnerable around Odasaku than around anyone else. That was the reason Odasaku was able to understand Dazai better than anyone else.  

    In chapter 4 of the light novel, Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era, and in episode 16 (episode 4 of season 2) of the anime, Odasaku talked about Dazai during his fight with Mimic’s leader, André Gide. He stated, “I still have one unfinished matter. I didn’t say goodbye to my friend.” He later goes on to explain the difference between Gide and Dazai, who were both actively seeking death. This displays their closeness, and it is canon that only Odasaku was able to get that far into Dazai’s mind. Dazai also showed sorrow when Odasaku passed away, which is an emotion that is difficult for sociopaths to feel unless they have a bond with someone. As a side note, I would also like to point out that while there is no certain proof, Dazai does seem to feel a little remorse for some of his harmful actions. That is another trait unique to sociopaths in comparison to psychopaths.

    My third point is how Dazai’s possible antisocial personality disorder may affect his relationships with other people. While you may argue that Dazai can feel sympathy for others, especially when he is the one who saved Nakajima Atsushi from starvation, I believe that that was only for Odasaku. In episode 16 (episode 4 of season 2), Odasaku explicitly tells Dazai to “protect the weak and save the orphans.” It would make sense if Dazai only saved Atsushi because he felt as if he had to carry out his friend’s orders. 

I would also like to point out his relationship with Nakahara Chuuya. Before I begin explaining, I feel the need to mention that this is mainly speculation and is very likely to be proven wrong. Dazai and Chuuya seem to have a deep hatred for each other, as you can tell by the multiple times they have stated that they despise each other. An example would be episode 21 (episode 9 of season 2) in the anime and chapters 30-31 in the manga. While I do not want to put words into their mouths, I would like to point out that their actions contradict their statements. In the same episode, Chuuya expressed worry for Dazai when he is thrown into the tree and nearly loses his arm. In another scene, Dazai cleans up the blood on Chuuya’s face and neatly folds his clothes after Chuuya passes out from exhaustion as he had been using Corruption (or Tainted, whatever you prefer). While he does abandon him, it goes to show that Dazai has, at least, a little bit of a conscience. 

This may be a long shot and you are free to argue (respectfully) with me about this, but I believe that Dazai does not really hate Chuuya. There are three emotions that are the easiest for sociopaths to feel. Hatred, anger, and fear. I think Dazai has some conflicting feelings about Chuuya (I swear I’m not insinuating anything), but he resorts to hatred to define those feelings because it was simply the easiest emotion to feel. On a similar note, Dazai doesn’t really have any good relationships with the people he interacts with, like his coworkers at the ADA. While they may care about him and vice versa, the relationship with his coworkers doesn’t seem to go deeper than mutual respect and common decency. 

My fourth and final point in this essay is how Dazai’s sociopathy correlates with his actions and his past. Now, I warn you, there isn’t a lot of evidence for this theory, but I hope you can still hear me out about it. I think Dazai understands that he is a sociopath. You could argue with me that Dazai isn’t a sociopath, that he feels sympathy for the innocent people who get caught up in their business, but I don’t buy that. While this sounds quite harsh, I don’t believe that Dazai has a sense of empathy, especially when Dazai continues to inconvenience others despite knowing what he’s doing. But if Dazai knows he’s a sociopath, why doesn’t he change? Well, that’s simple. He can’t. There’s no way he can force himself to feel empathy and adjust his actions. His brain doesn’t work that way. He can pretend to be sympathetic, but what’s the point in that? 

Now, how does Dazai’s acknowledgement of his sociopathic tendencies affect him? Let’s begin with Dazai’s past and build from there. In episode 26 (episode one of season three) and in the light novel, Fifteen Years Old, when Dazai is asked why he wants to die, he replies, “Let me ask you, then. Do you think there is any value in the act of living?” Throughout this light novel and the light novel, Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era, Dazai continues to show a pattern of hopelessness. All he longs for is to view the world differently than he already does, but if he cannot achieve that, he would rather die. But I think, as he grows, Dazai’s mindset changes. His desperation for death becomes a joke, something he doesn’t take as seriously anymore. I believe Dazai realized his sociopathy, and while he couldn’t change how he experiences his emotions, he began to think differently. What if Dazai believes that he doesn’t deserve to live, that no one would want him around because of his sociopathic tendencies? But he wants to live. After Odasaku’s death and after he’s experienced the light, he begins to realize that there is something worth living for. He just doesn’t believe he deserves it. I do not have any solid evidence to prove this theory, but it was something interesting that I would want others to consider.

For anyone who has gotten this far, I congratulate you. It must have been difficult to read my scatter-brained thoughts. Before we end this, I would like to clarify something. I am not a medical professional. I do not have a degree in psychology, but I am studying it. Please take that into consideration if you decide to debate my theory with me. For anyone who didn’t feel like reading through this, I won’t even bother with a summary. Trust me, it’s not worth your time. Thank you for reading and thank you to my friend who has put up with my dumb theories. You can message me on Instagram @carromeaway if you would like to discuss my theory or the show in general. Also, ask me any questions in the comments, whether it’s to clarify something or to ask me to analyze another character or to even elaborate further on Dazai’s character. I could talk about this for hours.

Citations:

Antisocial personality disorder. (2019, December 10). Retrieved November 29, 2020, from https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/antisocial-personality-disorder/symptoms-causes/syc-20353928

Bungo Stray Dogs Wiki. (2020, December 03). Retrieved November 29, 2020, from https://bungostraydogs.fandom.com/wiki/Bungo_Stray_Dogs_Wiki

Duignan, B. (n.d.). What's the Difference Between a Psychopath and a Sociopath? And How Do Both Differ from Narcissists? Retrieved November 29, 2020, from https://www.britannica.com/story/whats-the-difference-between-a-psychopath-and-a-sociopath-and-how-do-both-differ-from-narcissists

Grohol, J. (2020, May 20). Differences Between a Psychopath vs Sociopath. Retrieved November 29, 2020, from https://psychcentral.com/blog/differences-between-a-psychopath-vs-sociopath/

Robinson, K. (2014, August 24). What's the Difference Between a Sociopath and a Psychopath? Retrieved November 29, 2020, from https://www.webmd.com/mental-health/features/sociopath-psychopath-difference

#bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #oda sakunosuke #psychology #sociopath #this is my first post and it's an essay #please help i don't know how tumblr works #bsd #character analysis #nakajima atsushi #i feel like i over analyzed #i put so much effort into this #andre gide #did i write too much? yes

[uncloseted]

I wish people weren’t so black & white in their view of skins. Yes teenagers do go through these issues and it needs representation but you can acknowledge that and also see the show does glamorise some aspects of serious topics. (Drug abuse, eating disorders) it’s kind of evident in people’s anonymous confessions that I see a lot. People seem to wish they were more like Effy/Cassie or feel like they missed out if they haven’t had drug filled teenhoods. The Cassie ones are sad because a lot of people seem to echo the statement that Cassie worsened their ED’a or encouraged it because they wanted to be like her.

So I think there's kind of a larger question in here that a lot of media has been struggling with recently- should media portray life as it is, or as it should be, and what should media do to protect those who may be vulnerable?

It might not be obvious to people who are newer fans of Skins, but Skins was incredibly groundbreaking and controversial when it came out. Up until then, shows that dealt with "teen issues" were basically like Degrassi; ones where "real life problems" were discussed, but the "bad thing" the character did was always punished, and there was always a lecture about why the Bad Thing was Bad and they shouldn't do it ever again. That rang hollow to a lot of people who had seen the people around them do Bad Things without any serious consequences. So when Skins came out and started showing things as they are (albeit in a heightened kind of way), it was huge. I don't think they knew what would happen, or really had any guidelines for what "safe depiction of dangerous activities" might be. They were trying to tell stories that were authentic to the teenagers they knew, and all the writing was informed by actual teenagers' experiences. I bring this up because in retrospect, I think it's very easy to say that they should have known better. But there wasn't really any point of comparison for them to learn from. They were going into this blind, and I think one can make the argument that mistakes were made because of it.

Back to the original question I posed, I'm honestly not sure if there's a good answer. Maybe we need both Skins and Degrassi, to show the ways in which things arguably should be (a person tries drugs, immediately gets in trouble, never does them again), and the ways things actually are (sometimes people try drugs, use them in party settings, and nothing particularly bad happens), to provide a balanced look at the issue. Maybe we should be trying to mimic real-life statistics as much as possible in our representation. We certainly need to be thoughtful about which stories are being told and which are being left out of the conversation, which in a weird way, brings me to my next point.

Eating disorders are an especially complicated thing to show on screen. By and large, media representation of people with eating disorders is a Thin, Pretty White Girl who just doesn't eat. Usually at some point, someone will tell them that Not Eating is Bad, or they'll faint, and then they'll recover and it's never talked about again.

Cassie was groundbreaking, because she was a Thin, Pretty White Girl who just didn't eat, but she talked about how she got out of eating, was shown putting weights in her pants to pass a weigh-in, and was hospitalized for her eating disorder (although we never really saw what that was like for her). Instead of telling her Not Eating is Bad, Allen told her You Want to Eat, Actually, and even after that, she struggled with her eating disorder before eventually recovering (I guess??) and then never talking about it again. There's not actually a huge difference between Cassie's portrayal of anorexia and the "very special episode" portrayal of anorexia that we were used to before that. But she was (and still is) controversial, because her portrayal shows some of the (less graphic) ins and outs of what life is actually like for someone struggling with an eating disorder.

My issue with the approach the Skins writers took with Cassie is that it's simultaneously too much and too little. It shows just enough of her life that some people tore it down for being an "instruction manual on how to have anorexia" (which, 🙄, in my opinion), but it didn't show enough of the grossness of the reality of actually having an eating disorder, which would help people to better understand what having an eating disorder actually looks and feels like. Other eating disorders, like bulimia, almost never get shown on TV, because there's not as pretty to show, and I think that's a real problem. We also rarely see men with eating disorders, or fat people with eating disorders (or even average weight people with eating disorders), or people of color with eating disorders, or LGBT people with eating disorders, which reinforces this idea that eating disorders are just anorexia, and anorexia is a Vain Straight White Girl Problem.

The reason I find the concern around Cassie's character a bit eye-rolly is that I think it's not an honest depiction of what's actually happening. I do absolutely believe that Cassie's character acted as a trigger for some people with eating disorders, but I think that's the key- some people with eating disorders. Cassie's character wasn't inspiring anorexia in perfectly mentally healthy teenagers as some sort of social contagion; she was impacting people who were already struggling.

And that's where this becomes complicated, because some people with eating disorders will purposely and compulsively seek out triggering material in order to further their disorder. I don't think removing Cassie from the equation would have actually made a difference in that regard, because triggering material is easily accessible and literally everywhere. I think the argument can be made that Skins should have added a trigger warning to episodes where Cassie is explicit about her disorder eating habits (and I do think they should have), but I think on the whole, she created more good than she did harm. She helped people who don't struggle with eating disorders to understand some of the internal logic of the disorder and to see what it's like to actually live with, and she helped people who do struggle see themselves represented in a way that they hadn't been before.

I guess I just think that instead of wringing our hands about what we can and can't show on TV, we'd be better served by adding warnings so that people can avoid potentially triggering content (and so that, in turn, that content can be more honest in its discussion of eating disorders), and providing support for people who are struggling so that they can recover. We should make it mandatory that any image that has been retouched must acknowledge it, and we should show more diverse body types in media and in advertising. But it's easier to wring out hands in a "what about the impressionable children" kind of way than it is to make systemic change to support people who are predisposed to mental illness. Instagram influencers are a much bigger culprit in shaping body image issues than Cassie ever could have been.

I feel kind of similarly about the drug usage of the Skins kids. Should Skins have shown teenagers doing illegal drugs at parties? Probably not. It did definitely make doing drugs look cool and fun. Did Skins need to show that kind of thing for realism, or to get its target demographic to tune in? Maybe. At the end of the day, I think teenagers would be (and are) doing illegal drugs with or without Skins' influence. It's not like we saw a giant spike in teenage drug usage from 2007-2012 that immediately disappeared after episode 10 of series 6 aired. Art imitates life and life imitates art. To me, the bigger questions here are, "what other factors (home life, peer pressure, curiosity, a need for novelty, anxiety, depression, etc) are leading teenagers to want to do drugs?", "if teenagers are going to do drugs, how can we make sure that they do drugs in the safest way possible," and "how do we help teenagers who struggle with addiction recover in an evidence-based way?"

I'm not trying to say that media plays no role in people's life choices and perceptions. We know that it absolutely does. But I think Skins as an individual TV show has a tiny, tiny impact, even if it's your favorite show and you watch it constantly, when compared to all the other factors that contribute to eating disorders and drug use. We absolutely need to be thoughtful about how we tell these stories, and we have to make sure that they're tailored to the audience who's watching them. But we also need to be thoughtful about our media consumption as a whole- which stories are being reinforced over and over again, which stories are entirely missing from the narrative, and which forms of media we're being exposed to all day, every day. We need to be thoughtful about the way we talk about and teach about difficult issues in our day to day lives. We need to have comprehensive support systems for people who are struggling. Those types of actions will do much more than taking even the most graphic portrayals of drug use or eating disorders off the air ever would.

[i-was-a-teenage-eldritch-horror]

Thoughts on Rei and Shinji? I’ve always been confused about their dynamic and if I’m meant to read them as romantic or not. I’ve personally never seen them in that way, or at least the implications that interpretation presents make me uncomfortable. Was hoping you could provide some clarification since you seem to have a really good grasp at Rei’s character, and what her thought process might be toward Shinji.

Hi! Firstly, it means a lot that I’m considered something of an authority on Rei’s character, lol.

Content warning for mentions of csa.

Rei is very complex in that she’s arguably the most empathetic character in the entire show, yet also wants to suplex everyone into hell. Beneath Rei’s cool exterior lies a bottomless pit of rage stemming from her mistreatment and abuse. Remember that the dummy system runs on Rei’s subconscious + her decision making process, and that the result is something merciless and violent. Yet Rei explicitly states that she feels bonded with the whole world/humanity, and that’s her personal reason for piloting. She also makes several attempts to understand and help her peers, namely Shinji, Asuka, and Toji. So before I get into Shinji specifically I think it’s important to take note of this duality inside of Rei: she is all at once cynical yet hopeful, and innocent yet scarred.

Rei clearly sees Shinji as an extension of Gendo. Besides being horrifically abusive in every single way towards Rei, he is also incredibly familiar. Rei knows Gendo, perhaps better than anyone else in the show. She has spent an untold number of hours trying to understand him so she can understand her own existence. Rei is loyal to Gendo, yet she hates him (remember in Episode 23 when she started twisting his glasses like she was trying to break them?). In Episode 6, she sees a vision of Gendo smiling overlayed onto Shinji’s face. In Episode 23, when the mini-Reis pop up on Shinji’s hand in the director’s cut, they’re saying “It hurts, Ikari! It hurts!” which imo is an obvious reference to the csa that Rei has endured, and the omission of a first name is intentional as well imo. And let’s not forget the Lilith-thingy that forms from Armisael and starts hugging Unit 01 while Rei asks if her true desire is to be with Ikari (again, the first name omission works to this scene’s advantage imo, because it’s expressing a parallel, although it should be noted that Rei usually calls Shinji by his last name in the ADV dub & sub.) Finally, in eoe she transfers her loyalty from Gendo to Shinji.

So much like with Gendo, Rei simultaneously hates + feels a fondness for Shinji. She bitch slaps him and gives him death stares when he insults Gendo or says something that reveals his naivete about her situation. Yet I don’t think it’s inaccurate to say that she’s more fond of him than any other character, because bearing in mind that Gendo is familiar, it would make sense for her to feel drawn in one way or another to someone who is similar to Gendo. It’s not at all uncommon for abused people to seek out friends, romantic partners, etc. who remind them of their abuser. It’s all about the familiarity. Gendo and Shinji are both very stubborn, willfully ignorant, and neglectful. Both use Rei for a specific purpose (to trigger 3rd Impact & to get info about Gendo.) Both have no use for her beyond this purpose, and she knows this. Yet this kind of attitude is all Rei knows, so Shinji ends up seeming familiar, too. This is Rei’s comfort zone.

No, I don’t think it should be read as romantic, nor do I think it was intended to be. Rei certainly isn’t imagining Shinji bending down on one knee and giving her a ring, lol (rebuild is another conversation entirely.) There would have always been a connection between Rei and Shinji no matter what, given her status as a clone of his mom and him being so similar to Gendo.

I hope this answered your question. If not then feel free to send another ask!

#originals #ask #answered #anonymous #gendo ikari #shinji ikari #rei ayanami