#It’s angsty and it works for this sequence

[xx-sketchy-xx]

lol, some more thriller

[aza-trash-can]

Chapter one of dream sequences :D

I'll post the next chapter next week, so keep your eyes peeled for the additional angst

What does the strongest dream of in his scant few hours of sleep? What distorted memories play on repeat, changed by the passage of time and the creative twist of a sleep-deprived mind trying (and failing) to make dreams less painful than reality?

[zenkaiankoku]

OH?????

I fucking LOVE this. This is exactly my type of story. My type of Sun. I can't describe how much I love this and how I am gonna be thinking about it.

spoilers under:

Cuz I've thought of this type of situation before. With my own/other Suns. He doesn't want you to go. Can't let you. He won't let you. But of course my Sun can't talk to Moon so he'd do it himself and you'd know. But this, with Moon, you go so long without knowing,,, Sun trying to fix things only for you to find out its all his fault. You thought he was genuinely trying to help. Turns out the monster wasn't the one you though. And then the ending! Does it end there? Or does it all start over again? Oh ho ho~! This is so fucking good your angst is so GOOD

RESTART

My submission for an angst event, and I'm gunning for the win /j

For real though, had a lot of fun writing this! It's based on my promptober day 29 response, though you don't have to read it to get the jist, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2,998

☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙

You double check that there's no one around, and sit back down on the box you were previously moping on. In particular, backstage. Sun wasn't likely to look for you here, not liking to leave the Daycare and all that. Though, he had been getting more comfortable with it lately, which meant you'd have to start finding more hiding places. 

You stare down at your hand, you'd come to accept it as that now. It works just like your original, it flexes, bends, grips just the same. It's just pure white, and completely mechanical now. 

The rest of your body functions relatively similar to how it did before, too. At least, you think it does. You'd like to say it's because you've lost track of time since the incident that you can't tell. In reality, you know it's been seven months, 19 days, 21 hours, and 7, 8, 9-god, you still struggle with getting that to quit. 

No, it's just that you've been like this so long, you don't know what it feels like to be human anymore. Your thoughts are still human, that much you're sure of. Sun doesn't think like you do, from what you understand. He doesn't like to talk about it much, he doesn't like to talk about what happened at all, frankly. 

You get it, he feels ashamed, blames himself for it. But still, you don't think it's fair that you can't even acknowledge how much has changed. Your entire life is here now. You can't never leave the Plex, never go home again. You're stuck here, forever, it seems. 

You want to say that you tried harder to find a way to, fix this? move past it? you don't know. But you didn't. You didn't try to contact your friends, your family, anyone. You just, accepted it. What choice did you have? Besides, as far as you knew, nobody seemed to notice you were missing, so you guess it wouldn't have mattered in the first place.

You sigh, and then laugh at the sound. Your voice is hardly still your own, the metallic ring always noticeable to you despite your best efforts to ignore it. 

To Sun's credit, he had tried his best to make this entire ordeal as comfortable for you as possible. 

No Moon, that much had been established. You think he was also afraid of what the naptime attendant was capable of, if he could so effortlessly kill murder destroy harm you, without a second thought. Though, you were surprised to find that Moon did avoid you when the lights went out from time to time-not nearly as often as before, you're still trying to determine how Sun managed that one-not even sparing a passing glance. 

Additionally, you had your own space, in their room, that is. Still, you treasured the area where you could put a bed, books, and other such items that you no longer had a need for-but they helped. They helped. 

And, while reluctant, Sun allowed you time to yourself when you needed it. You could tell that despite all your reassurances, and the amount of time that had passed, he was still concerned about you potentially, having a glitch, as he called it. You called what happened when you first woke up like this a psychotic break, but you digress. 

Regardless, if you weren't running errands, or helping out in the Daycare, you typically chose to be by yourself. Far away from the place. You could tell it upset him, but to be honest, it was hard to be in there 24/7, you don't know how he did it. 

Besides the obvious fact of the matter that you'd died there, it was just too much. He was just too much. 

The music, the noise, kids running around, screaming, crying. Now that you were a bot, they didn't treat you nearly as nicely. You got beat up on, a lot. More than once having to have Sun patch you up or repair you after a long day. 

And Sun. You, at one point, you think you had loved him. Loved Moon. But that had been a long time ago now. Before this. 

And it wasn't even that you couldn't feel the emotion anymore, or hell, even because of what happened. 

You just, you'd grown hollow. Maybe it was because seeing each other all day every single day got to you. Maybe it was because of his constant attempts to get you to engage, doing crafts together, watching movies together, playing games together. Even a few times where you went out in the Plex on these little 'dates' because that's what they were, no need to pretend. 

Maybe that's what it was, all this, pretending. He always just wanted to move on, have everything okay without putting the effort into making it okay. 

You don't know anymore. But what's new?

You lean back against the wall, eyes closing. Even like this, you still have that damn interface pulled up, unavoidable with its synoptics of your system. 

You see there's a notification in your messages. Opening it, you're unsurprised to find it's one from Sun. 

'Starshine! You've been gone for a bit now, everything alright?'

You answer shortly after reading, 'Fine. Just taking some quiet time.

Doing that meditation thing you suggested.' An obvious lie to you, but he buys it. He always does. 

'Oh! I'll leave you be then. I knew it would be just the thing to help :)'

You scoff, opening your eyes and shaking your head. Resentful. You've grown resentful. And that, that makes you feel ashamed more than anything. 

You send back a quick reply, ':)'

It wasn't his fault. You know it wasn't. You called it 'the incident' but you truly don't believe it had been intentional. Though any attempts at an explanation were shut down immediately. And not in the same, nervous way every other similar discussion was. This was a firm 'No' with no exceptions. 

Whatever had happened to Moon to cause him to act that way, it seemed to scare Sun badly enough that he'd even snapped at you one time. 

"Sunshine, I won't tell you again," Sun warns, "We're not talking about it. It doesn't matter. Moon is fine. Okay?" He shakes his head, "He's just, not feeling so well these days. But I have it under control, do you understand?"

You'd been taken aback by his tone. Too, shocked, and honestly a bit frightened, that he'd lashed out at you like that to say anything. 

He sighs, coming over to where you stand. He hesitates to put his hands on your shoulders when you flinch, and instead clasps them in front of him. 

"I don't mean to sound harsh, Love, but it's for the best if we just drop it. Please."

You find yourself nodding, muttering a quiet "Okay."

"I'm sorry," This time he does initiate contact, pulling you into a tight hug. He doesn't tower over you quite as much now, so it's not as awkward as it used to be. 

"You know I love you, right?" He asks in the quiet, voice low. 

You hum, "I know."

He seems to be waiting. If you still could do so, you'd be biting your cheek to steel yourself. 

"I love you too," You say after a moment or so. 

Sun pulls back, and leans down. Your faces touch and there's a brief, soft, static between the two of you until he stops kissing you. 

"I mean it. I love you. More than you know."

Even though you can't return the feeling, you didn't doubt that he meant it. 

The memory replay is interrupted when you hear voices off in the distance.

That was another thing about this new body of yours, all of your senses were heightened to a degree that was borderline uncomfortable.

You double check your location is undetectable-something Bonnie had taught you early on-and listen in. You weren't a snoop, but sometimes you needed help passing the time. And this was one such example. 

"I just don't know what else to do, Freddy," Sun's voice, you'd know it anywhere, "I've tried everything! I don't know what it will take for things to just..."

Freddy's tone is soft, encouraging, "Just what, Sun?"

"Go back to normal? I, I know it can't be like it was, then, before, but, but surely I can get their old self to shine through again, right?"

You realize they're getting closer to your spot. Shit. You need to hide. 

Quickly, you duck behind another stack of crates, pressing yourself snugly behind them. 

Just in time for Freddy's voice to become clearer as they walk backstage, "I'm afraid it's not that simple, my friend. You still haven't told them the full story, have you?"

You peek just slightly out from your hiding spot, able to just see the two bots standing not far from you.

"N-no. But, I'm going to! I swear I will. I just, I need more time," Sun's hands grip his rays, "I have to win them over again first. That way, that way it won't hurt as much."

Freddy seems to want to say something, but doesn't. 

Instead he puts a hand on the taller bot's shoulder and smiles, "I know you'll do the right thing, Sun. Now, I believe Monty has challenged Roxy to an arm wrestling contest, would you like to join?"

"I would! But, I'm afraid I lack the skills nor the strength to participate myself."

They walk off then, chatting happily, but the conversation sticks with you. What did Freddy mean by full story? What did he know that you didn't about your own, demise. 

A message pops up in the corner of your vison. You expect it to be from Sun, inviting you to watch the match. 

It's from Moon.

You're... more than just surprised. You hesitate, but end up opening it. 

'I can tell you the truth.

If you'd like.'

You panic, you swore your location had been off, you know it had. 

You play dumb, '?

What are you talking about?'

'I wasn't with him, I just happened to notice your signal in the system coincidentally at the same time.

He doesn't know you were there, if you're worried about it.'

'How can you do that?'

'Does it matter?

Do you want to know or not?'

'I shouldn't even be talking to you. I don't want to be talking to you.'

'Aw, still upset are we?

I don't blame you, but I think once you have the full picture, that may change.'

You don't answer, sitting back and looking up to the ceiling. You're debating. You want nothing to do with Moon, especially because he doesn't even seem the least bit remorseful, which, hurts more than you'd care to admit, but still. You do want to know what happened. You want the truth. 

And god do you want someone to talk to. Really talk to. About your death, and just in general.

'Fine. Tell me.'

'Not like this. Later. When he's busy.' 

'He's not busy now?'

'When I'm in control.'

'Why? What's that have to do with anything?'

'It's more fun that way.'

Seems despite everything, he's still got that same cheeky personality. 

'Alright. Give me and time and a place and I'll be there.'

Once that's sorted, you exit your hiding space, going to join in the festivities briefly with the other bots. You'd say it was difficult to pretend everything was fine, but that'd just be lying in and of itself. You try to have fun, at least. Afterall, as far as you can tell it's only Sun and Freddy hiding things from you. 

Right?

When the lights go out in the Daycare, Moon doesn't approach you immediately. Instead, he heads out for his usual patrol. About ten minutes later, you receive a message. 

'Catwalks above Monty Golf.'

You take that as your cue, and head that way. Upon arrival, you spy Moon juggling several golf balls to amuse himself. When he sees you he stops, catching them one by one. 

Something stirs in you, and you clap. He seems surprised at this, but bows anyway. The moment takes you back to-you shake your head, everything is different now, and dwelling on the past won't change that. 

"Alright, let's hear it," You keep your distance, leaning against the railing out of his reach. 

You don't think he'd hurt you, but you'd thought that back then, too. 

Moon notices your choice it seems, and chuckles, "I don't bite, Star."

You stay firm, his eyes narrow at this. 

"It's better to show you than it is to say, and for that, you need to come closer."

"And if I don't?" You cross your arms.

He tsks, "Then you won't get the full story. And that's what you want, isn't it?"

You pause. 

"I won't harm you. Not this time. I promise."

You scoff then, "You've made a lot of promises, Moon-man," You curse yourself for letting the nickname slip, "What proof do I have that you'll keep this one?"

"You don't. But he's also made promises, don't you want to know which one's he's kept?"

If you could, you'd be biting your lip right now. 

"He has everything to gain from lying to you. I do not," He holds out his hand, "What's your choice?"

You consider your options, but you'd already made your choice before showing up here. 

You take his offer, hand resting on top of his, "You break this trust, and you'll regret it."

His hand grips yours and you're suddenly spun around and then lowered into a dip, Moon's other hand on your back to secure you.

"I wouldn't dream of it," He leans in, and as he grows closer you swear there's a flash of purple in his optics, "Now hold still, and watch."

Your vison glitches, and you're no longer on the catwalks. Instead, you're standing in the hallway outside the Attendants' room. Inside, you hear an argument occurring. 

Before you can do anything else, a hand rests on your shoulder. You glance up to see Moon. He puts a finger to his smile, then leans over you and cracks the door slightly. 

Inside, you can see Sun pacing back and forth, and another Moon? Sitting on the dresser. One leg swinging back and forth as he watches the fretting playtime attendant. You take note that there's, an air of static around him. Causing a hazy effect around his entire, otherwise relaxed, form. 

"What do we do, what do we do?" He asks, hands gripping his rays, "They're leaving, they're leaving and they're never going to come back."

Other Moon rests his head in his hand, "They just mentioned potentially moving divisions. It's not for certain, and they'd still be around even if that was the case."

"But they want to go, Moonie. They'd rather a different job than working with us. Do they hate us that much?"

A shrug, "I thought the kisses I got the other night proved otherwise, but maybe I'm misinterpreting."

Sun makes a noise of frustration, "You're no help with anything anymore! Ever since you-"

"Ever since what?" Moon growls, and his visage grows darker, the entire room darkening and glitching.

Sun cowers, putting his hands up and things return to normal, "Since you're, upgrade, you've been, less than supportive, to put it plainly."

Another shrug, Sun goes back to pacing. At that moment, other Moon seems to notice you and waves cheekily, but says nothing. 

His counterpart suddenly stops his movement. 

"What if, what if they, couldn't, leave?"

"You're going to make them stay in a job they hate?" Moon tsks, "How selfish, Sunny."

"Yes, but no, I-" Sun hesitates, really, hesitates. 

This piques other Moon's interest, he sits up a bit, "Go on then, I'm on the edge of my seat."

"What if, what if something happened to them, that made it so they had to stay... Forever?"

Moon pauses, then chuckles, "You're not suggesting what I think you are, are you, Sun?"

"It's for the best," Sun argues, seemingly mostly with himself, "They're not thinking straight. This would, this would help. And then, we'd never have to worry about them leaving ever again."

Moon stands, walking over and putting a hand on the playtime attendant's shoulder, "You can't take this back, you know. There's no do-overs, no fixing things. This is final."

"I know," Sun nods, "And you can, take care of it?"

The edges of the room shift again as Moon snickers, "Can't do your own dirty work, Sunny?"

"You say that as if it doesn't benefit both of us," He mutters. 

"It won't. Not for a while. You can't change their memories, they'll know what happened. It's just the cause that will be, murky."

Sun shakes his head, "They'll never know. I'll make certain of it."

"Are you sure about that?" Other Moon asks, and points to the door where you stand, partially visible. 

Sun's eyes widen, and the world around you starts to crumble. 

With a gasp, you find yourself back on the catwalks, stumbling away from Moon. 

You're shaking, and your system starts sending warning signs of an overload. 

You hear a click. 

Looking up, you see that Moon's reached over to a nearby switch, and the light's start to come on one by one. 

"Good luck~" He snickers, bowing one final time as rays start to pop out from his faceplate. 

Sun's face snaps to yours, immediately starting to walk towards you, hands up, "Starlight, you have to listen to me-"

You can't. You won't. And you don't get a further choice in the matter, either. 

In your haste to get away, you stumble back against the railing. And panicking, trip, and tip backwards. Sun reaches out for you, but it's too late, you're falling. You're about to go through so much pain all over again, and all you can think, the only word you can see, is 'LIAR'.

LIAR. LIAR. LIAR.

☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙

Aw, what a fun twist! Oh, but bummer for you though, yikes, sorry about that one :/ Anywho, thanks for reading!

Tag list:

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @eternal-soup (IT WON'T LET ME @ YOU I'M SORRY)

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

If you want to be added to the tag list, or check out my other stuff, see this post here for more information, bye!

[littlefluu]

𓍯𓂃𓏧 E N H Y P E N F I C R E C S

AUGUST 19th, 2024 RECOMMENDATIONS

WELCOME TO A SMALL LITTLE COLLECTIONS OF RECENT WORKS I ENJOYED (I was really busy with uni so there isn´t that much new material here! For more recommendations check out my main masterlist) ⤷ GO BACK TO THE MAIN ENHYPEN MASTER LIST WITH EVEN MORE RECOMMENDATIONS ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

ALL OF THE MEMBERS

love. f. moments where they realize they are in love or when they fall harder than they did before ᝰ fluff, short scenarios, all members .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Maybe in another universe !? by @leaderwon a. enhypen members texts after you pass away ᝰ sad, angsty SMAU, all members .ᐟ₊ ⊹

LEE HEESUNG

teeth by @gyuuberryy f, sug. you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy. ᝰ enemies to lovers, vampire!heeseung x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

talk tomorrow by @soobnny f. drunken confessions ᝰ best friends to lovers, heeseung x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

predictable predicament by @timextoxhajima f,s. so you're best friends with the campus hottie who happens to be the quietest one in his group of friends. he's different with you though. ᝰ best friend! heeseung, fluff, smut in the least explicit way .ᐟ₊ ⊹

PARK JONGSEONG

7:18 AM by @ashtxrie f. jay surprises a very sleepy y/n with breakfast. ᝰ established relationship, pure fluff, heavy domestic content timestamp, jay x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Naturally by @ikeuverse f,s. ★ jay has always been very private about his love life and physical contact in front of his friends, but a comment from his work colleagues made him rethink some things. ᝰ established relationship, fluff, smut, domestic , chef!jay x fem!reader  .ᐟ₊ ⊹

How you get the girl by @jaylver f, a. ★ Beach parties are supposedly fun and exciting, aren’t they? Wrong. Experiencing college parties is rare for you, but you decided to give this one a go after your best friend’s constant pleas. Things were alright until everything turned sour when trouble found you and eventually you were roped into a fight alongside the campus’ famous hockey playboy. As if that wasn’t enough, the devil himself conjured up an idea that you found yourself being entangled in. It was all fun and games up until confusion arose, feelings being confessed and played, in the end, Jay had to learn how to get the girl, his girl. ᝰ strangers to frenemies to lovers, fake dating au, college sports au, romance, fluff, angst, secret pining, ice hockey player!jay x afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

SIM JAEHYUN

Car rides by @jlheon f. a sequence of events from your and jake’s senior year ᝰ neighbors to lovers, fluff, highschool au .ᐟ₊ ⊹

SOUL SISTERS f. where layla shows how much she cares about the growing life inside you. ᝰ fluff, heavy domestic content, husband!jaeyun x pregnant!reader, .ᐟ₊ ⊹

break the ice by @jaylver f, a. ★ Punching a guy in the club then kissing him not long after at a hockey game wasn't exactly a fairytale, but for you, it was your reality. The worst part of all it wasn't even the incidents that happened, but the fact that you didn't know him or his name. That was until another stir of events that happened which caused you and him to actually meet, so what was the best way to break the ice after a disastrous punch and a shocking kiss together? A date. It could be love at first sight, or more accurately, it was love at first punch, or … kiss? ᝰ strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, angst, ice hockey player!jake x afab!reader.ᐟ₊ ⊹

Midnight train (back to you) by @jaylver f, a. ★ You declared to the world that this summer will be yours. Ever since you’ve left home to chase your dream further in Europe, you never dared to look back, leaving your friends and family along with the precious memories there, including your silent love for your closest friend. Years passed, you were making a name for yourself and chasing that fame, settling in perfectly fine and eventually moved on with life. All was well until the transfer window came, announcing a new addition to the men’s first team, who also happened to be your childhood best friend, Jake Sim. Summer in Spain wouldn’t be what it is without experiencing lots of rekindling, heartbreaks, fallout but also a shot at love. ᝰ childhood friends to lovers, college/professional sports au, romance, angst, pining, (slight) slow burn, pro-footballer!jake x pro-footballer afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

PARK SUNGHOON

Insatiable by @moonhoures s. your vampire bf suddenly becomes clingy which can only mean he’s hungry or horny . . . or both ᝰ non-idol!au, vampire!au, smut, sunghoon x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Fatal trouble by @gyuuberryy f. your roommate is hot. really really hot. and odd too. really really odd. after a strange experience with him, you slowly start distancing yourself from him. but, it becomes exceptionally hard with your feelings coming in the way. how are you supposed to protect yourself if you can’t resist him? the answer is you don’t need to. your fates are intertwined and there's no letting go. ᝰ roommates to lovers, vampire au, soulmate au, vampire!sunghoon x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

MS. & MR. President by @jlheon f. seeing your ex in public leads to hiding in a small photobooth with your annoying student council vice president park sunghoon ᝰ non-idol!au, frenemies to lovers, sunghoon x freader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE by @jaylver f, a. ★ Having a one night stand wasn’t your forte, but with the help of adrenaline, and most definitely not alcohol, you managed to rope yourself into one. Worst part of all was the fact that you didn’t even know his name! The only distinguishable part of him was his blinding white hair. You figured you will never see him again after, but you were so wrong. Your friend practically set you up for failure after convincing you to take her place on a blind date to try and drive the guy away, only for it to be the one you slept with, who also happened to be your mother’s best friend’s son that you met right before that.  ᝰ strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, comedy, slice of life, angst, (attempted) he fell first but she fell harder, slowburn-ish, ice hockey player!sunghoon x afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

RIKI NISHIMURA

supernova by @star-sim f,a,h. riki was the city's top hero, you were the top villain. when your archnemisis pulls up to your apartment late at night, all battered and bruised, you just sighed and took him in. you were a villain, not a monster! ᝰ hero! riki x femvillain! reader, superhero! au, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, a lil bit of angst .ᐟ₊ ⊹

duck by @jlheon f. you want a sonny angel hipper ᝰ Idol bf! nishimura riki x fem! reader, established relationship, fluff .ᐟ₊ ⊹

MY FAVORITE AUTHORS THIS MONTH @jlheon ★ @jaylver ★ @gyuuberryy

[herecirmsims]

Hurt/Comfort Couples AND Hurt/Comfort Trio

Double posepack day! Last week I put up a poll on my Patreon so that you could vote for the next release; the angsty trio sequence I made for my story won the vote, and I also decided to parcel up the couple poses I made for the same scene.

Important info:

The couple poses were originally made for myself as part of a huge group pose. To make it easier for people to use in their own stories, I've separated each pair into sets and moved them so that they will spawn wherever you place the teleporter. However!! Each set is facing a different direction due to the nature of the original group pose. Rotating them would have been more fiddly and I didn't have the motivation - sorry. I recommend using TOOL or WW positioner to rotate them yourself in game.

Set 4 from the Couples posepack become the Hurt and Very Hurt Sims in the trio posepack. The comfort Sim from Set 2 joins them (just in case you wanted to use both together!).

You will need: - Pose Player - Teleport Any Sim

Hurt/Comfort Couples poses:

Hurt/Comfort Trio poses (no expression overviews this time because I couldn't be bothere lmao. There's a lot of poses here):

TOU: you may adjust for personal use, but please do not reupload/paywall/claim as your own.

I'd love to see them used! You can tag me on Bluesky, Instagram, or Tumblr. I repost. ❤️

Download here (always free!): SFS | Patreon

You can easily browse more of my posepacks using my Ko-Fi gallery, or by browsing my collections on Patreon. Want to commission me and help support my work? Details here! Want to leave a suggestion for poses you'd like to see? Form here!

@ts4-poses @alwaysfreecc

[pmpmyread]

Nanami Kento Masterlist - 2024

Every piece I wrote this year pertaining to our beloved 7:3 sorcerer.

Nanami x f!reader fics

Bento Box Blunder | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Pairing: Nanami Kento x auxiliary manager!reader Summary: You’d always admired Kento Nanami from a distance, even harboring a small crush on him, sentiments you’d only allowed yourself to indulge within the safe sanctuary of your discretion.Then one day, you stole his lunch. Content tags: fluff WC: 2.4k

Nanami Kento & Casual Touches | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Pairing: Nanami Kento x sorcerer!reader Summary: Some casual touching scenarios with Nanami, because you need it as much as he does. Content tags: MDNI, fluff with suggestive themes. WC: 3.6k

Perfect Matcha | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Pairing: Nanami Kento x f!reader Summary: Sometimes, it's tea for two. "A few similar encounters occurred over the next few weeks, distinct scenarios that always rhymed, an unspoken dance that incorporated two fundamental elements: you carefully preparing your tea and Nanami subtly observing you as you did." Content tags: fluff WC: 1.9k

Nanami Kento & Laughter | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Characters: Nanami Kento x sorcerer!reader Summary: From the moment you first shared a laugh with Nanami Kento, you knew you’d want to do it over and over again. Some laughing headcannons with Nanami, because God knows he deserves it. Content tags: MDNI, fluff with smut. WC: 1.4k

Forty Winks | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Pairing: Nanami Kento x f!reader Summary: There's just something about watching your other half sleep. "Perhaps this was just something to take as is; another layer uncovered, another quirk you’d grow accustomed to, a funny bonding joke that would settle between you — that your sweet Nanami had a spontaneous napping habit, and that very few things could come between him and his forty winks." Content tags: fluff WC: 3.8k

Steamy Pretenses | Read on Tumblr

Pairing: Nanami Kento x f!reader Summary: About slow mornings and steamy pretenses. Content tags: suggestive fluff WC: 438

Kneads Assessment | Read on Tumblr

Characters: Nanami Kento x f!reader Summary: On the heels of a long and stressful week at work, Nanami proposed you assist him in baking some bread, as a means to decompress. And decompress you did. Content tags: suggestive fluff WC: 2.4k

New Old Habit | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Pairing: Nanami Kento x sorcerer!reader Summary: You endeavor to comfort Nanami after a mission gone wrong. Content tags: Hurt/comfort, brief mentions of death. WC: 1.2k

Tailor-made | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Characters: Nanami Kento, Reader-insert, Kugisaki Nobara, Gojo Satoru Content tags: SFW, mentee Nobara, mentor Nanami, papamin vibes. Summary: Nanami fills in for Gojo to lead an individual training session with Nobara, and you witness a new bond forming between the two. Content tags: fluff WC: 3.8k

Crimson Vows | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Pairing: Nanami Kento x f!reader Summary: When presented with the opportunity to support the efforts in Tokyo to investigate and stymie the latest surge of Special Grade vampires, you're compelled to leave your life overseas and rejoin the Tokyo Hunter Academy's ranks as a vampire Hunter, only to find yourself paired on a mission with Nanami, a reunion that sets you both onto life-altering paths. Content warnings: 18+/MDNI, blood, blood-drinking, violence, language, biting, mature themes, graphic sexual content. Content tags: Vampire AU, romance, hunting/investigation missions, action sequences, angsty/hurt/comfort plot with smut, comfort sex, mentions of death, processing of grief, power dynamics, brief allusions to mind control, Black!reader. WC: 16k

Nanami-centric (no Reader-insert)

Birthday Reflections | Read on Tumblr or AO3

Characters: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Itadori Yuuji, Fushiguro Megumi, Kugisaki Nobara Summary: Not for lack of trying not to, Kento Nanami often found himself becoming deeply reflective in the days leading up to his birthday. Content tags:Nanami's birthday, introspection, hurt/comfort WC: 2.6k

Character commentary/analysis

I wrote some things for other characters as well, if you can believe it (I can't). You can find those on my "Master" Masterlist.

Thanks for reading! 🩵

[mariasont]

PART II: PORPHYRIA'S LOVER

this is what it means to love in verse and violence

part I -> part II -> part III -> part IV -> part V

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: situationship, canon-type cm violence and case work, allusions to sex and intimacy, self-destructive behaviors, unhealthy relationship dynamics, angsty tone, mental health struggles, intense imagery, isolation and loneliness, dark themes wc: 2k

His coffee’s lukewarm again. Third cup this morning, though labeling it as coffee feels overly generous. At this point, it’s more sugar than substance, a thin attempt at stimulation that never quite lands. You’d scrunch your nose at the taste, make some comment about the sugar neutralizing the caffeine and rendering the whole thing pointless. He’d probably argue, lightly, just to keep you talking.

He drinks anyway, savoring the mild film it leaves on his tongue that expects nothing in return.

You’re not so different. You dissolve into him without protest, smoothing over the rough patches, sweetening the harsher aspects of himself. 

Too much of you, though, and the careful balance he’s cultivated tilts into oversaturation, saccharine overpowering. Too little, and he’s left choking on his own bitterness.

There was a time when Spencer shared your perspective. Your sweetness. Glass half-full, always leaning into the idea that cracks only existed to welcome in the light. Back when he still believed that love, if real enough, was self-correcting. But optimism has a shelf life. Eventually, even Spencer had to reconcile the math — that some men speak tenderly of love even when their own fingers pull it apart ruthlessly.

He’s made peace with the withholding. With absence. He’d rather starve quietly than risk feeding something that might sour and decay.

Spencer arranges the photos again, this time chronologically, even though he already knows the sequence. 

Strangulation, by nature, is a frenzied act, all instinct and survival reflected in torn skin, bruised wrists, evidence of a fight. But the first victim is almost pristine. Just a clean line marking her neck. She’s positioned by a fireplace, hands arranged on her lap, hair smoothed down one shoulder. 

The second victim was found in an office building — drowned, of all things. No signs of forced entry. Water everywhere but no source. Just a shallow tide spilled across the linoleum like the room itself had been weeping. Her shoes were placed beside her, toes pointed in. No one removes their shoes unless they’re prepared, perhaps resigned, to stay.

Different weapons. Same result. Same… message, maybe. Not a signature, not yet. But he’s beginning to resent the word posed. It’s misleading, making the victims seem complicit, like they participated willingly in their fates.

He pressed a finger to his temple. Maybe the pressure might shape his thoughts into something useful. By now, he should have been able to fortify his mind, sharpen it into a blade capable of slicing through ambiguity. Three crime scenes should be enough to construct a profile, at least a skeletal frame.

Instead, that same mind slips sideways, spiraling off into peripheral shadows. Fluid, slippery, resistant. 

Water, again — not from the ominous puddles beneath the victim, but from your shower, beading down your legs. 

You might have been laughing then, or something close, lips parted, eyes still half-lidded and misted with a post-coital softness that made everything feel slowed as if submerged in dreamlike currents he can’t quite surface from.

He had smelled like you. Still does, most days, though he pretends not to notice. Your shampoo permeated his skin, settling insistently into the dips and hollows around his collarbone, the shallow depression at the base of his throat, soaked into the towel strung low on his hips. His hair had responded to the humidity of your bathroom, small wet coils clinging to his forehead, collecting in shapeless halos at the edge of cotton.

He remembers you standing at the mirror, brushing your hair, towel sliding carelessly off one shoulder, bare skin blinking in and out of visibility like candlelight flickering through a crack in a door. He felt an odd impulse surge through him, an urge to take the brush from your fingers, to draw it through your hair himself. 

Not because it was romantic or tender, not really. Curiosity is what he had told himself. He wanted to see whether you’d permit it. 

You had paused just once when the comb snagged on a tangle at the base of your neck. One he’d unintentionally created. At the time, he thought that’s what stopped you. Now he’s not sure. Maybe you were just gathering nerve for the question that followed.

“Do you think people can love too much?”

It wasn’t the kind of question he wanted to hear, not while the water was still spinning down the drain, slow and reluctant, refusing to take the evidence of your bodies with it.

But it was early then, early enough that your question felt more whimsical than anything, a coin carelessly flicked into the murky depths of some emotional wishing well. You weren’t declaring love, he reminded himself, you were just inquisitive, endlessly prying, as though your very existence depended on the answers you coaxed from him. 

Spencer remembers feeling compelled to offer an answer. Said yes, of course. There’s clear precedent. Love can become pathological. It happens when boundaries dissolve, when the self erodes. When affection quietly turns corrosive, eating away at identity until you’re nothing but reflections and reactions, indistinct edges bleeding into one another. When you no longer know where you end and they begin, and the very essence of who you are seeps quietly, insidiously, into the cracks of someone else.

You took it as calmly as if he’d explained weather patterns or historical trivia. Filed it under things he knows. 

And maybe, just maybe, he had let himself believe, just for a moment, that the scenario wasn’t self-referential, that you didn’t see him reflected in his own explanation.

The question hadn’t mattered then. It shouldn’t matter now.

He folds the recollection methodically into quarters, presses down the corners, and files it deep in the cluttered mental drawer where dangerous ideas sit silently, gathering dust, too risky to revisit.

Focus.

Eventually, every theory and hypothesis the team offered became a messy swirl of symbolism, murder methodology, and microexpressions blending into confusion. Spencer jotted down most of it, cramping his writing smaller and smaller, margins overflowing on the yellow legal pad until the page felt claustrophobic. What didn’t land on paper lodged he remembered anyway. 

The others slowly filtered away. Spencer moved toward the break room though guided by some invisible force — coffee, always coffee — no thought required. You hovered close enough behind to stay in his peripheral awareness but far enough back to let him pretend it wasn’t intentional.

Settling into your customary places, you take a distracted bite of your sandwich.

“Do you ever randomly crave food you hate?” You glance sideways at him. Spencer arches an eyebrow just enough to let you know you have his attention. “I mean, I hate tuna. It’s objectively evil. Fishy and suspiciously moist. But today, I stood in line actually considering a tuna melt. Why would I do that?”

Spencer sees your words for what they are. An attempt to untangle his thoughts from themselves, and maybe untangle your own in the process.

He shrugs, coffee number four precariously balanced in his grip. “Neurological misfire, probably. Or you’re subconsciously punishing yourself. Guilt manifesting in questionable lunch choices.”

You stare at him. “Jesus, Spencer. Would it kill you to eat a fruit snack or something? Maybe your blood sugar is low.”

He takes a slow sip, looking at you pointedly over the rim. “You asked the question.”

You smile at this deadpan, biting off another piece of your sandwich. Automatically, stupidly, he smiles too. 

“Okay,” you say, wiping your fingers on a napkin, “if you had to eat one thing you hate every day for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

He blinks. “That’s grim.”

Hypocrite. You see it, he sees it. You generously keep quiet.

“I didn’t say you could also hate me for asking.” You poke his arm. He doesn’t feel it. 

He knows you’re joking. He understands that much. But paradoxes never sat well in his mind, especially when you were the variable causing contradictions. It would be impossible to hate you. He tries to engage in some detached intellectual exercise, constructing scenarios in which he might. A thought experiment. Replace your face. Alter your behavior. Force the conditions until dislike becomes plausible. 

But each attempt crumbles before completion, breaking apart as easily as wet paper.

Even in the iterations where your fingers don’t tap nervously along your collarbone when you’re uncertain. Even when he pictures your hip without that faint scar he’s mesmerized — traced with his fingertips, lips, tongue — or when your voice doesn’t lower just a little when you’re sleeping, murmuring things into your pillow. Worlds where you don’t absentmindedly draw constellations on the back of his hand with your fingertip, tracing patterns he knows from old astronomy texts.

Every imagined version of you remains stubbornly beyond his capacity to reject.

“Oatmeal.” 

He recognizes how inadequate it sounds, evasive and superficial. He was, after all, accustomed to cowardice, skilled at sidestepping sincerity. But sincerity wasn’t what you needed now. You needed something simple, an innocent distraction from a case filled with victims who carried a resemblance to everything you saw in the mirror.

Oatmeal, then. Bland, devoid of flavor, with a texture he quietly loathed despite its obvious nutritional value.

Survival was like that, rarely compatible with real desire, something he didn’t want to share aloud. 

So you both pushed through the drudgery of evidence and paperwork until reality became abstract and numbness set it. Routine anesthetic for minds that couldn’t afford anything else.

He checked his watch when the final file was closed, 11:47 PM. Late, but not unusual. You fell into step beside him, something comfortably habitual.

In the parking lot, he asked you to come over. You nodded. No reason to explain. Not at this hour.

It had been a few months earlier when you first stepped into his apartment, an impulse decision born entirely from anxiety the second your feet hit the tarmac after a long case.

He remembers deep puddles pooling unevenly over the cracked pavement suggesting sustained rainfall, likely three or four hours’ worth, judging by the water accumulation near the storm drains. Branches twisted in the wind, illuminated for seconds at a time under jaundiced streetlights, gusts easily over thirty miles per hour, perhaps more.

It’s ridiculous, really, how quickly his mind could picture your car hydroplaning, slick pavement robbing you of traction in seconds. 

His place was closer, less time navigating through storm-soaked roads, less opportunity for the worst-case scenarios he couldn’t stop picturing. 

So he’d blurted it out, awkwardly offering for you to come to his without fully processing it. Now, in hindsight, it’s strange how one unfiltered sentence had reshaped the trajectory of everything between you.

His apartment had always been intentionally solitary, crowded with details he preferred to keep private. A haven filled with half-read novels dog-eared in places he didn’t want to explain, a chess set he usually only played alone, coffee mugs accumulated from various cities.

Inviting you in was like handing over a map marked with all his hidden spots, giving you access to parts that felt vulnerable. If whatever you shared was supposed to stay purely physical, then he’d made a reckless miscalculation.

And it was instantaneous, the shift that occurred when your body met his mattress, an internal fracture that made your familiar contours feel foreign. How that night, the sex had felt different, colored by an intensity he couldn’t quite parse, emotions unfolding beneath the physical sensations in a way he hadn’t anticipated, still didn’t entirely grasp.

He still feels the rush of your breath blending onto his, can picture shadows spreading across naked skin in restless waves of ink-black darkness, but he obscures the small details — how long he held you afterward, or exactly what color your eyes became beneath the lamp light. 

But what Spencer remembers in almost startling clarity, is how perfectly the storm ended, thunder quieting as if timed to the exact moment your bodies fell apart, undone and intertwined in synchronicity.

And later, when you slipped out around one, he absorbed the deafening silence, baffled by how something so intangible could feel louder than the storm had ever been. 

Tonight, you didn’t leave. Shoes discarded by the door.

Again, Spencer lay awake while you slept, suspended uncomfortably between vigilance and awe. He couldn’t bring himself to look away from you, anxious that if he blinked, you might vanish, evaporate like a delicate mirage from the safety of his sheets.

This wasn’t part of the plan. You weren’t supposed to be here. He’d promised himself boundaries, a clear line where your bodies met without emotional entanglement.

At exactly 3:02 AM, he swallowed two advils, bitter on his tongue, washed down by tepid water that tasted of stale resignation.

And all night long we have not stirred, / And yet God has not said a word / Porphyria's Lover.

part III

[le-trash-prince]

Tag Game: Scenes I will never forget

Rules: Share 5-10 scenes you can't forget. Not your favourites, the ones that got stuck in your brain for any reason.

thanks for the tag @befuddledcinnamonroll!

These are not in any particular order

Bad Buddy kiss: probably a cliche but it's iconic. Everything here is just timed so perfectly.

2. VegasPete torture scene: I don't think I'm particularly quiet about my electrokink. I watched KP for the first time with my bestie and was basically just frothing at the mouth and shrieking ELECTROCUTE HIM ELECTROCUTE HIM ELECTROCUTE HIM and then they did it. For me.

3. Pit Babe Dean's Betrayal: literally everything about this scene was so visceral. One of those moments that you could see coming years before the characters did, and yet it was so full of raw emotion I couldn't help but be torn apart. (I couldn't find a gif of this scene but just look at this silhouetting)

4. "I never saw you as a son, I raised you like a dog." a truly lifechanging moment for me tbh... anyone who knows me knows how much this scene is everything to me.

5. Ayaka is in Love With Hiroko: no notes.

6. Shen Wei on his knees in the rain. You see this clip in the OP and it's like "oh okay angsty rain scene" and then you see it in context and it's like oh- oh my god my fucking heart

7. Ossan's Love 2016 final scene. When this first aired, Haruta was a completely unknown character, and it was a short-form story, so it felt like I wasn't completely sold on Haruta or his feelings for Hasegawa for most of the story, but the final punchline hit so perfectly and had me laughing and reeling, and it just felt so perfect. This is one scene that I absolutely missed when they made it into a full series, but it just doesn't work outside of this format. The "maybe just one more time to be sure" and then cut to credits will always be iconic to me 😭

8. KimKenta drift sequence. Already seared into my brain permanently. Is anyone else doing it like them? Yes Pit Babe is on here three times, is anyone surprised tho

10. Given - Fuyu no Hanashi. idk the whole anime was building up to this one moment. Mafuyu spent so long trying to find the words to express what he was going through, and they leave you wondering until the very last moment if he'll finally be able to find his voice onstage. And then it just pours out of him, and his voice is so raw and unpolished and you're hit with all of this kid's grief. I remember starting Given bc it was like "oh a music BL!" and then from the first shot, I got punched in the gut with frankly the most poignant potrayal of grief after a loved one's suicide that I've ever seen. This clip doesn't even fully capture how loaded this one scene is bc it cuts out the build-up prior to Mafuyu finally opening his mouth, and it also like. doesn't finish the song lmao. but gifs just don't cut it for this one.

tagging @toptensupakorn @autisticbokutoenthusiast @cosmicmoonwhisperer if y'all want to!

[sepublic]

"And even if there was a bit of white favoritism it was at least towards female characters and wasn’t damn near [as?] disproportionate." Right yes I agree with this!!! It's about the patterns in behavior across fandoms. Staring into the camera as I watch this unfold again and again

People always swear the white guy favoritism is different and justified this time and then it’s the exact same. Each and every time.

S1 TOH fandom feels almost idyllic now because at least the white favoritism was towards female characters and it felt a lot more justified at least. That isn’t to say there wasn’t a problem but in hindsight? Yeah even those white female characters had to earn it on some level. It’s like people only stuck with them because they were all we had, but fandom was otherwise just waiting for a white guy to show up to really latch onto.

I remember feeling an increasing sense of dread when we learned more about Hunter in the buildup to S2, when we learned he was that angsty white blonde guy with anime red eyes and not only that but a teenager too!!! And I was concerned because it felt as if we were doing fine with Bump and Edric, both of whom were appreciated but still in their lanes; Edric, for example, was the least discussed of his siblings and it was refreshing when you compared it to his sisters! So when all my fears came true about Hunter taking all of the fandom attention it was just. Uuugggghhhh.

Likewise, as someone who was paying attention to Belos since Covention, it really felt as if people didn’t care about the character until Eclipse Lake; The episode where we saw his face, where we saw he was a white guy. It felt as if people suddenly were head over heels for him, and sure you could attribute it to Belos being shown in a different light, but after everything, we all know the increase in focus was because he was depicted as a White Man and not this masked thing.

Again, I just. Did not see where all the energy for Wittebanes after Yesterday’s Lie was coming from. I get speculating but people were writing entire fics and elaborate headcanons and the like. I didn’t want to feel alienated so I tried once or twice to get into it, but I just couldn’t. All I could think of was how this energy felt disproportionate to what we had, unprecedented even, like the Clawthorne sisters didn’t get this!

I couldn’t help but think, we don’t know enough to really work with but we also know it’s going to be clarified, so it felt as if people were just setting themselves up for disappointment for when canon inevitably didn’t go the route they wanted and that’s exactly what happened. And then people blamed canon for their mistake in hyping up something that canon wasn’t ever really focused on.

People try so hard to make TOH into Gravity Falls or Over the Garden Wall instead of acknowledging it isn’t and appreciating it for what it is. Or at least attempting that with Eda and Lilith. I remember once when someone said they liked Wittebanes over everything else because it was just the simple story of two humans trying to fit in together in Gravesfield… And all I could think of was how we never see this dynamic onscreen, but we DO see it with Luz and Camila plenty. I haven’t seen people adapt the iconic scene from Turning Red where the protagonist of color realizes she and her immigrant mother are quite alike for Luz and Camila, but I have seen it for Luz and. The white supremacist Belos.

Similarly, I think it’s really funny and great that Hunter didn’t play a role in the finale, after everyone hyped up Luz’s nightmare sequence being about Belos and/or Hunter’s baggage. Because it wasn’t about Hunter’s glory or revenge. He was just there to make Luz feel bad for a scene but he wasn’t even the only dynamic for her to consider, and it was about Luz’s feelings, first and foremost.

It’s a strange interplay where Hunter fans are so much more prevalent but Wittebane fans are so much more egregious about it. Both are annoying as fuck. Specifically Caleb fans as well because why the hell are we rehashing Raeda but objectively less interesting, and why does he get all this energy but Manny Noceda gets jack shit? We know why. There’s something beyond parody about people seeing the show about the weirdoes and latching onto the colonial white man and the angsty white boy, the most status quo of all.

Genuinely, this entire experience has taught me to avoid having white guys in my stories. I’m gonna try hard to avoid them, I’m going to redesign any white guys as anything but, unless I feel it’s necessary and/or they’re minor enough, or have something else about them that’d make them unappealing to fandom. I could also make them fat to at least balance out everything else being milquetoast, and it’d sort the wheat from the chaff when it comes to fans.

[ghostbc-headcanons]

any headcannons on how copia deals with the grief of sister suddenly dying (I don’t care how angsty they are, make me cry if you wish)

wow what a great ask to come back to! (said with a cheery disposition (i love writing angst))

i think, unfortunately for copia, his main coping mechanism is utter dissociation. this displays itself really well in the movie, with the whole hot air balloon sequence until he suddenly comes crashing back down to reality.

so a lot of his time after sister dies is spent distracting himself. being promoted to frater imperator gives him more of an excuse to not think about the fact that his mother is dead. this is not healthy, this is not good, and he is aware of that but he would rather be unhealthy than be met with a devastating truth.

but sometimes, despite being swept up in all the hullabaloo of the church, he is met with things that remind him of her. a place, a smell, a phrase - it could be anything, and it flips a switch in his head that just ruins him. he'll be having a formal conversation and the person will say something that reminds him of sister, and he has to excuse himself because he will start fucking bawling. and that would suck to do in front of a random ghoul!

he really tries to put on a brave face. he tries very hard to disregard any foolish feelings because he knows that she wouldn't want him to linger on her death like this, not when there's a whole church to run in her absence - but by satan, is it fucking hard.

eventually, it comes to a crux. certain ghouls and siblings notice he isn't doing well, that he seems disheveled or out of it, like he isn't all there. so he starts to get asked if he's okay, and at first he brushes them off but if one more person asks-

he just cries. he cries.

after this event, certain members of the clergy work together to get him help, and he works on gaining better coping mechanisms. the dissociation was definitely getting bad, so as embarrassing as the whole ordeal is, he is silently grateful that he has such caring followers.

...

and then she shows up as a ghost and it's totally ok and he never has to be sad again the end!

[humbledragon669]

Lockdown Episode Write Up P2 – dialogue

Introduction

I don’t think there’s much linking the dialogue with the images (apart from the cake sequence), so I’ve broken this write-up down into tableaus and dialogue, because there are just as many Easter eggs (maybe more) to be had from the tableaus as there are from the script. This part of the write-up will address just the dialogue, with the tableaus addressed in a separate write-up. Right, housekeeping done, let’s get stuck in shall we?

Dialogue

So Crowley picks up on the second ring, sounding very irritated. Considering he’s about to tell Aziraphale how bored he is, you’d think he might actually be relieved about the prospect of somebody calling him. And poor Aziraphale; the brusque greeting clearly puts him off, presumably because he was hoping for a more enthusiastic response, particularly given that Crowley openly tells the angel he knows that it was him calling in the first place.

AZIRAPHALE: Uh… Hello. It’s me! CROWLEY: I know it’s you, Aziraphale.

My thoughts about this exchange? I strongly suspect Aziraphale is the only one that ever calls Crowley. Not only that, I think he’s probably calling the demon multiple times a day at this point. I mean, think about it – neither of them work for their respective agencies anymore. For the first time in 6000 years they can be open about their friendship, no more hiding. And for the first time in those 6000 years something other than Heaven or Hell is making it impossible for them to see each other. I know, they really could have formed a “bubble”, or just ignored the rules completely, given their otherworldly status, but they didn’t because don’t forget – this is a PSA film at heart. Everybody had to STAY AT HOME. Besides, it makes it so much more angsty if they can’t be within physical proximity to one another during this time.

AZIRAPHALE: Just calling to see how you were doing in Lockdown.

Aziraphale actually says makes it sound like this is either the first time the angel has spoken to Crowley during Lockdown (which had been going on for almost two months by the time this minisode was released), or that they don’t speak very often. Personally, I don’t buy this, not least because the demon openly says he’s incredibly bored. And what does Crowley like to do best when he’s bored? Hang out with Aziraphale. Be his personal nuisance.

CROWLEY: I’ve decided that if I can’t think of anything to do within the next two days, I’m going to have a nap and I’ll set the alarm clock for June.

I *think* this is the first time we have confirmation that he does sleep, at least as far as the show is concerned (I’m not counting cut/missing bits from the Script Book, or from the original book). There’s also proof here that he’s actually an optimist, despite his efforts to convince the world at large otherwise – he’s convinced that everything will be back to normal by June. Interestingly, the UK’s really strict national regulations had actually been eased by the time the minisode was released, allowing those who could not work from home to return to work (yeah, we didn’t really know what that meant either, considering those of us who were classed as key workers never stopped going to the workplace), but June was still a very optimistic estimate – whilst restrictions were eased as we went into July, local governments were given the authority to impose local lockdowns where necessary. And boy, did they.

AZIRAPHALE: Oughtn’t you to be out and about doing things?

It's interesting to hear Aziraphale actually encouraging Crowley to be more demon-like. And he doesn’t just encourage, he gives him very appropriate suggestions for things he could be doing to fulfil his demonly duties. To my mind, it suggests his preference for Crowley in a demonic state. Or it could be an opportunity to emphasise the STAY AT HOME message, seeing as (for once) Crowley seems keen to stick to the rules. Take your pick. I know which one I prefer. Either way, there are two pieces of information here that I find noteworthy – firstly, confirmation that Crowley can’t get sick because he’s a demon. I think it’s interesting what human weaknesses the angel and demon are susceptible to, and which not. Alcohol, for instance, albeit in larger quantities than a human could imbibe, has the same effect on their human bodies as it does to humans. Illness and disease on the other hand, it would seem not. Laudanum, as we see in series 2, has an entirely different effect on Crowley than it would do to an ordinary human, but Hastur informs us that ordinary fire would easily discorporate a demon. Makes me wonder if the effect that a Heavenly or Hellish being has on its hosting body is one to do with constitution – where the body has an increased resistance to toxic substances but is unaffected in its ability to deal with trauma.

The second piece of information in this little plea from Aziraphale is that he says Crowley still has a job to do. Which, given the outcome of season 1, he doesn’t. I don’t think it was made blatantly obvious that neither of them report to their respective agencies anymore, so perhaps this is just a slip of the pen, so to speak. It might have been a bit more difficult to slip in this blatant reminder to people that leaving home was a BAD thing to do and that staying at home was the GOOD thing to do otherwise, and this little speech is very clear about listing certain things that were being actively discouraged at the time.

CROWLEY: I could do that. I mean I could… but if I did then… well…people might follow my bad example and get ill. Or even die.

Crowley’s response is… less than enthusiastic. It’s funny to hear him say that people might follow his bad example – surely that’s exactly what he’s been contracted to do for thousands of years? But again, I am forgetting – the whole point of this piece of media is to remind them why we should all just STAY AT HOME. So, with that reminder, let’s look a little more about Crowley’s actual feelings on the subject, shall we?

CROWLEY: I know I ought to be making people’s lives even worse but everyone’s so miserable cooped up right now anyway I just… don’t have the heart for it.

And therein lies the problem for Crowley and his existence as a demon – he actually doesn’t like to make people miserable. He loves to cause mischief and make trouble, but not with the sole intention to bring misery into people’s lives. Ultimately, he’s just too soft at heart to be a very good demon, which David himself has described beautifully.

AZIRAPHALE: I’m not miserable. CROWLEY: Really?

I really love this little exchange. Crowley sounds genuinely shocked that Aziraphale is so certain in his proclamation that he’s not miserable. And it’s hardly surprising really – I strongly suspect the reason that Crowley is feeling so down in the dumps is because he’s not getting a regular fix of his angel, so it stands to reason that he would expect Aziraphale to feel the same way. He’s probably had a little bit of his heart broken to hear that his angel is seemingly coping without him so well. It’s a good thing we go on to hear that basically the reason why Aziraphale is so happy at this time is because he’s not getting any customers in with the threat of trying to buy one of his books, although the angel’s speech does present the writer with another opportunity to remind us of our obligations at the time – social distancing and STAYING AT HOME.

You have to be paying attention, but Crowley doesn’t seem too pleased with the idea that Aziraphale might have needed rescuing from some errant youths that he wasn’t able to help with; there’s a quiet groan from him when he hears the retelling of the story. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think there was some sort of double entendre going on here with Aziraphale’s tease of there being “a few young lads” who “broke in through the back”, so that groan could actually be one of relief rather than frustration. What is interesting is that Crowley openly mocks the only potential rescue scenarios that Aziraphale would have had available to him – he’s obviously smarting that he didn’t get to be the white knight for once.

CROWLEY: Did you smite them with your wrath?

I’d be very interested to know if the script had been finished and handed to David and Michael at this time, because that particular line feels like a very obvious reference to the smited/smote/smitten exchange. And if the reference is a genuine one, my double entendre idea doesn’t seem so outrageous, given Crowley’s tone – could he be a little bit jealous?

What now follows is the only time that the images in the minisode link directly with the dialogue going on at the time, and they’re all to do with cake. Trigger warning, what follows is a lot of pictures of cake. If, like me, you are inclined to go out and buy cake as soon as you see a picture of one, I would suggest you look away now.

What I love about Crowley’s reception of the knowledge that Aziraphale sent the little vandals away with cake is that he uses the same expression that Anathema uses when she asks about the name of Newt’s car.

CROWLEY: I’m going to regret asking…

His tone shows just what he thinks of the angel’s method for rescuing himself. And if you consider Aziraphale’s tale to be a truthful account of what took place, it does seem odd - that somebody could just have a little chat with some wannabe robbers to change their minds, and then send them away with some excess cake. There is however a missing scene in the Script Book where several thugs enter the bookshop and start to make a mess in an attempt to get Aziraphale to sell the land the shop sits on. In a somewhat “miraculous” turn of events (see what I did there?), they change their mind, clear up the mess they made, and leave without a fuss. I suspect the same sort of turn of events occurred to the lads that turned up to steal the cash box.

AZIRAPHALE: It turns out I have a whole cookbook section here in the bookshop.

I love this idea, that the bookshop is so sprawling and diverse that even Aziraphale doesn’t know what it contains, despite the fact that he must have stocked it in the first place. And I love it because that’s the how every second-hand bookshop feels to me. I’ve spent my fair share of time in Hay-on-Wye and its multitude of bookshops, and I genuinely feel like I could get lost in some of them. There are another couple of lines from Aziraphale that suggests that he does not think it possible to eat anything unless it comes from an eatery.

AZIRAPHALE: Well all the restaurants and cafes are closed […] and I got peckish.

Because he couldn’t just go to the supermarket and buy some cake, could he? Like the rest of us were doing (and were allowed to do). He even goes on to say that he had to miracle the cherries in for one of his creations – quite why it was only the cherries he miracled in I don’t know, I mean he must have gotten the rest of the ingredients from somewhere. Which leads me on to another question – where is the kitchen in the bookshop? There must be some facilities somewhere, otherwise he couldn’t make all of those delightful looking goodies. He’s got to have a kettle or a stove for boiling water/milk at the very least for making his cocoa, so where is all that stuff?

Aziraphale then goes on to reel off a list of cakes that he’s made (another nod to the domestic activities that were going on up and down the country – for those not based in the UK, you might not know that during Lockdown it was virtually impossible to get hold of flour or eggs, largely owing to the huge increase in home baking people did), which includes angel’s food cake (you could argue that all of the cakes he makes is angel’s food cake, hahah. Hah. I’ll get my coat). I don’t know whether it’s interesting, whether it’s an oversight, or whether it’s deliberate, but there’s no devil’s food cake on the list that he gives. I’ve made and eaten devil’s food cake before. It’s awesome. I don’t think that he wouldn’t have made this particular recipe because of its lack of deliciousness. I actually wonder whether its absence is an indicator of Crowley’s eating preferences (and as a reminder, I’m someone who is of the mind that he doesn’t enjoy eating – more on this shortly).

 AZIRAPHALE: And then, once I’ve baked them, I have to eat them all myself.

This line makes me properly snort with laughter, because he simultaneously manages to make it sounds like eating all the cake is something he definitely doesn’t want to do whilst also expressing sorrow that he has no-one around to eat them in front of with. The idea that this angel would ever not want to eat food is laughable. Crowley takes the bait on the sub-text though, employing some his tried and tested temptation techniques to try to get what he wants.

CROWLEY: I could hunker down at your place. Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle of- a case of something… drinkable?

This is my favourite line of the whole thing. The throwaway reference to his serpent form is delightful, and who’s to say he wouldn’t transform for his trip over to Soho to avoid being stopped by humans? There’s  the idea that he would very much like to get drunk with Aziraphale again, and this time without an impending Armageddon to spoil the mood, and with the knowledge that he wouldn’t be going home at the end of their binge. But most of all there’s that line about the cake. He doesn’t say he can help Aziraphale eat the cake – he says he can come and watch the angel eat it. Which would not only go some way to confirming my suspicions that he doesn’t like to eat but would also help to cement the popular theory that watching Aziraphale eat is a pleasurable experience for him. The whole line is said with such longing too, it’s impossible not to hear it.

AZIRAPHALE: I’m afraid that would be breaking all the rules.

If you listen carefully to Aziraphale’s rejection of Crowley’s (quite frankly, adorable) suggestion, you can hear another little bit of the demon’s heart breaking with disappointment. I suppose he probably shouldn’t be surprised that his request of Aziraphale to go against protocol wouldn’t have gone down well and besides we were all supposed to STAY AT HOME, remember? What sort of a PSA film would this be if people just went around to other people’s houses for some flirting nookie company when there was a Lockdown in place?

AZIRAPHALE: I’ll see you when this is over.

So of course, Aziraphale says no thank you very much (quite a lot of Tory party members could have learned a lot from the angel’s morals, and none of them are half as likeable as he is), but how incredibly sad does he sound at the prospect of not knowing when he and Crowley will see each other again? Crowley might have quietly voiced his disappointment multiple times during the conversation, but Aziraphale’s own disappointment here is stated loud and clear.

Crowley’s upset can be heard again after this very final sounding line from his angel (and this time it breaks my own heart a little bit) but he rallies well, changing his planned nap end time to July, rather than June as declared earlier. It’s a pretty perfect way to get out of missing someone, isn’t it? Just go to sleep until you can see them again; I’m sure there are a lot of people that would definitely be on board with that approach. He doesn’t leave any further room for discussion either:

CROWLEY: Good night, angel.

It’s very definite – conversation over, nothing more to say. My thoughts are that he’s just too depressed to carry on talking on the phone to the one person he would much rather be spending time with in person, and now that he’s found a quick and painless solution to the problem (a nap), he just wants to get on with it. Charmingly though, this parting line sounds nothing like the dismissal it seems like it is when you see it written down. The delivery of this line conveys the familiarity and comfort that exists between the two of them, and actually makes it sound like this is a regular conversation that they have, despite the dialogue suggesting otherwise. As it turned out, July wasn’t really long enough to get completely clear of the restrictions that would see our heroes united freely, but who can blame him for being optimistic? And at least if he’s asleep, he’s definitely STAYING AT HOME.

Well I think that’s the lot for this write up. So much for this being such a short episode that it wouldn’t need a lot of time devoted to it. It was a fun little thing; in truth I think it serves more as a PSA that as an additional source of storyline/character development but that hasn’t dampened my enjoyment of it. Time to move on to season 2 now (which I am both excited and a little bit nervous about – there is so much to say!), so for the meantime, questions, comments, discussion: always welcome 😊

[drsteggy]

Get to Know Your Author

Thank you for the tags @amelias-calamity-quintet and @hurricane105 !! I love tag games!

1 How many works on AO3? 44

2 Total AO3 word count? 278,273

3 Top 5 fics by kudos?

- the original version of Uneasy Lies the Chosen of Farore

- Reunion

- Eternal Shipwreck of our Hopes

- the revised version of Uneasy Lies the Chosen of Farore

- (Nothing but) Flowers

4 What fandoms do you write for?  Legend of Zelda, a variety of games

5 Do you respond to comments? YES. Posting fic is an invitation to play. So if you come in, I’m joining you.

6 Fic with the angsty ending? Tempest this tells the story of Urbosa right up to when she fell in Naboris

7 Fic with the happiest ending? The Dragon at Lanayru which ends with a proposal

8 Do you get hate? Lol yes, it has gotten served to my tumblr in box and it’s why I dumped Fanfiction dot net

9 Do you write smut? YES. I enjoy writing it even though I find it very taxing. I currently have two smut pieces that are in the whole editing stage which is remarkable for me and I really can’t wait until they are ready to be read. At least one ought to get me some anon Tumblr hate lol.

10 Have you ever co-written a fic? I have not.

11 All time favorite ship? All time hmmmm. It’s currently ZeLink Fever here but man I adored Mulder/Scully

12 WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I don’t want to say doubt but my existential crisis “ but who was Mipha to me” thing. Like it has a good start but it’s been sitting on a burner forever. Oh and the food truck thing. Every time I see food trucks I think about that one.

13 Writing strengths? Action sequences. I do good combat and I think my smut is solid- I write them similarly.

14 Writing weaknesses? I am not super sure. My grammar skills are relatively weak, I think. I don’t really think about writing formally so I get lost when people start talking about the meta of making stories sometimes.

No pressure tags toooo…. @unmaskedcardinal @st0rmyskies and @portraitofalinkonfyre since that was a fun bunch of reading last time

[owepossum]

I love your story of kid Viktor growing up with Vander and Silco. I've read other messages and your responses to people who ask if Silco and Vander are going to reconcile, but I wanted to ask if we're going to have a scene like in Arcane where in another universe Silco finds the blister and bedrock letter Vander leaves him in the mines. I just had to ask because only Felicia(?) seems to work in the mines.

Also like another ask pointed out, Vander tries so hard for Viktor to like him I feel that after the river scene even if Viktor finds it in his heart to (maybe somewhat 50%) forgive Vander he'll never fully trust him again and can say really biting stuff to Vander that pierces his heart become Viktor was his son/boy 😢 (And maybe an angsty teenage Vik calls Vander a piece of shit surrogate dad that tried to kill his "real" dad, whenever Vander tries talking to him)

Okay, that was all. Again love the story and Jayce is such a puppy! 🐶

Also, have you noticed in the show Silcos eyes look like the shade of Robin Shell blue?

thank you anon!! I’ll put the spoilery answers under cut. But yes, trust is going to be shattered at the river (and understandably I think). Viktor and Vanders relationship post river will be fully explored 👀.

Re the Letter — I have many Feelings about how the show portrayed this / how fandom often views the letter as a panacea or a sufficient apology — so Devotions will definitely explore the letter aspect. I don’t want to spoil the plot sequence as there’s a lot happening around it but yes. It will be on screen! The letter is … found. 🙃

[partially-controlled-chaos]

Snippet Sunday

Still plagued by the Lucanis brainworm and it's angsty this time. I'm absolutely obsessed with his line of "I thought I lost you. All I had left was the fight." So, because we're not given a canon sequence of events that eventually got Rook out of the Fade prison, I've got my own little take on it. Angsty Lucanis completely shutting down and focusing on murder while Rook is gone. This isn't edited and may change as I write more for it, but this is what I've worked up so far. This is a Lucanis and f!Rook piece, but there's nothing descriptive about the Rook other than being female. So origin and appearance are a complete blank slate.

The knife sliced through the throat of a Venatori mage cleanly, the fresh wound spurting blood as the body hit the ground with a muffled thump. The magic the mage had begun to cast fizzled and died with the host, the residual magic lingering in the air made Lucanis’s eyes burn and itch. He ignored the feeling as he wiped his blade clean on Venatori robes, inspecting the sharpness with a quick glance before sheathing it back in the holster strapped to his hip. The soles of his boots squelched against the various pools of blood that had begun to mix with mud as he stepped over body after body, each step heavy and purposeful. 

He was quickly slicing his way through the remnants of Venatori soldiers that lingered in Arlathan Forest after so many had been sacrificed for Elgar’nan’s archdemon, not that he minded. The only good Venatori was a dead one and he had plenty of knives and revenge to go around. No blood mage would leave this forest alive as long as he still could take a breath and the promise of watching each members of this demented cult gasp and die by his blade was the only thing that kept him going lately. The toe of his boot had just touched the first stone step in a winding staircase when he heard a small sound caught his attention. 

Lucanis stopped as he heard the gurgle of another Venatori, eyes glancing the field as he searched for the soon to be corpse. He quickly spotted the dying man clutching at patches of grass in an attempt to escape, slowly crawling towards a discarded mage staff. His fingers wrapped around the hilt of his blade as he stomped towards the dying mage, preparing to drive the dangerously sharp blade through the base of his skull when an arrow zipped through the air from the direction he was heading. The arrow struck the Venatori in the temple, quickly ending his struggling as he died with a sigh.

“Not fair!” Spite’s voice mixed with Lucanis’s in an irritated snarl, “Took. Our. Kill!”

“Sorry, Lucanis!” Bellara shouted as she jogged across the battle field to join him, also stepping over fallen bodies, “I didn’t know you were going for him. You know, you don’t have to kill them all. Everyone here is also capable.” She gave him a sympathetic smile, but was only met with a cold, emotionless glance.

“It’s my job.” Lucanis said cooly, clicking the knife back into place. 

“O-oh, right.” Bellara stuttered as her smile broke, “Master assassin, of course.” 

Lucanis stood in silence next to Bellara as she pulled the arrow from the corpse, slinging the blood from the tip before dismissing the weapon with a wave of her hand. Both bow and arrow disappeared in a shimmer of magic, further irritating the sensation that never seemed to leave the backside his eyes. He screwed his eyes shut and pressed against his eyelids firmly with his forefinger and thumb, hoping the bit of pressure would be enough to alleviate the discomfort until he could return to the Lighthouse.

“You should get back to Emmrich.” He said while pinching the bridge of his nose, “Don’t worry about me.”

“He’s just up ahead,” Bellara said softly, “but we shouldn’t get separated. We can’t afford to lose anyone else.” He bit back the urge to argue with her. Instead, he gave a curt nod and extended his hands towards the stone staircase, ushering her to lead the way to the necromancer. 

Bellara took the lead with quick steps, her hands folded neatly in front of her as she marched her way up the stairs. Lucanis followed begrudgingly, not ready to face the false sense of hope they desperately clung to. Although he hated to admit it, Bellara was right. The team had already far too many members already and he couldn’t shake the guilt that ate away at his heart each night. 

Harding was dead; pierced and impaled on the disgustingly blighted tentacles of Ghilan’nain and thrown into an oozing, pulsating pile of blight because he’d tried to strike against the god too soon. Neve was gone and more than likely dead at this point. She’d been snatched by Elgar’nan weeks ago in an attempt to break down blood magic wards. He should have sensed the trap. He should have been able to save her. Lucanis shook his head at the thought. He couldn’t afford anymore mistakes. He couldn’t allow his emotions to get in the way of completing the contract.

Think nothing. Feel nothing.

“It’ll work this time, Lucanis.” Bellara said once she reached the halfway point of the staircase, her voice breaking though his brooding, “It has to work.”

“Bellara.” He said sharply, not wanting to hear yet another attempt at an uplifting speech.

“You just have to keep the faith.” Bellara ignored his warning and continued anyway, although he had a feeling it was more for her sake than his, “Have faith that this time we’ve found the right route. Faith that the dagger will work and not just fizzle a little bit like the last time and that we can pierce the Veil just enough and in the right spot and at the right time and that we’ll find Ro-” She was rambling. She was always rambling.

“Bellara!” Lucanis shouted, stopping in place on the steps and forcing his eyes closed at the surge of emotion, “…Please.” The last word came out as a broken whisper, his voice threatening to break and crack at the simple mention of that name. Her name. Bellara stopped as well, taking a step or two down until she was close enough to reach. She placed a single hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“I know it’s hard, Lucanis, but you can’t give up hope.” Her voice was strained as if she was holding back tears of her own, “We’ll find her. We’ll find Rook.” He took a deep inhale through his nose, holding his breath for a long while before finally releasing.

“Emmrich,” he said after taking a moment, “we need to get to Emmrich.”

[oddeyecir-cle]

 ✶ ˖  ࣪  📹 .  ぅ

lee donghyuck enemies to lovers fic ideas (all fics are haechan × reader)

haechan who is your rival coworker + secretly deadpool

for the sake of this story, lets assume deadpool does hide his identity. he works at a tech company and is constantly beefing with his coworker that he's lowkey attracted to. and the plot could maybe be something like you accidentally finding out his identity and then using that information to slightly/ kind of/ in a non-toxic way blackmail him. eg: making him run errands for you, asking to tag along on his quests as deadpool. then the pair gets closer through all the time they spend together etc etc.

✶ note : hyuck HAS to be the sassiest, funniest, most sarcastic, cocky human being ever. also include some spidermark maybe

haechan as the prince of the neighbouring kingdom

historical au. very basic ik but hear me out. your kingdom's glory and power is gradually draining and it's threatened by multiple rivaling kingdoms. that is when your mother, the queen, tells you there is no choice but to turn to hyuck's kingdom for help. you hate the idea but you know everyone's counting on you so you go through with it anyways. (this is historical so there could be a very cool scene of the reader riding on a horse in battle armour to neighbouring kingdom's palace themself but whatever). they're good, kind people so they agree to help you. they send over a part of their military along with some weapons and of course haechan himself, their most prized possession who, like you, is skilled with a sword and is a wise leader. there's lots of quarrels between the both of you when it comes to the topic of which one has more power over the other and about who should be leading the troops. but you soon put your animosity aside when you realize that you have to work as a team to win. (insert dramatic battle sequence with swords and arrows flying around. at one point, you and haechan lock eyes and suddenly he drops to the ground. the world starts to blur around you when you realize he's been stabbed in his back. you frantically rush to his aid but he falls limp in your arms. its now upto the writer to kill him there itself and end the story. very angsty, i love. or they could also save him somehow and give main characters the happy ending they deserve).

 ✶ note : sloooooowwwww buuuurn. i mean this should be a long ass series with 7k+ words per chapter. should be so heavy on the angst and the hate that it makes you wonder if they do actually end up loving each other in the end. please include sword fighting scenes with sexual tension i beg you. (im big on bollywood, can u tell).

haechan as a stranger/ tour guide you meet on a family trip

you've just gotten out of a 3 year long relationship after your boyfriend cheated on you with your best friend. things get worse when your family, unaware of your breakup, forces you on a 2 week trip to *insert destination of choice" . here you meet the annoying, sarcastic, a-little-too-happy-for-his-own-good donghyuck. he is with the group your family is touring with (him being the tour guide is a pretty cute plot too but it could kind of complicate things later) and instantly wins everyone over with his charm, except you of course. in classic hyuck fashion, he tries to keep getting your attention and eventually succeeds. his company helps ease the pain of the heartbreak he didn't even know about. its bittersweet when it's time to part ways. you realise after you come back to your college dorm that you never exchanged phone numbers and you fail to find him on social media as well. but fate has strange ways of bringing people together. which is why you cant stop smiling when crash into a certain someone during a regular grocery run.

✶ note : more on the fluff and less on the angst for this one. and maybe a dash of slice of life as well.

haechan as captain of the football team.

there is no actual plot for this other than the fact that you're a cheerleader and also his academic rival (there is no trope i love more than this). my vision for this is very 2000s romcom. ik this isn't a lot to work with but there could be some sub trope like fake dating mostly.

✶ note: nothing much just make it cute

+i have a few more ideas, will probably make a part 2

++if in the future, by some miracle, people do find these interesting enough to use, please dont forget to credit me!!

[coolmanjohnny]

SAW: (unrated) rant

Okay. I just watched the unrated version of Saw (2004) in theaters. So for some reason, they alter the ending for the unrated version of Saw. I have no idea why they chose to do this. I didn't see much discussion going over the details so I thought I'd go over it and why I think its inferior to the original cut. (Forgive me if I seem nitpick-y, I just love the original film so much haha. Totally fine if you like the unrated ver., I'm just sharing my thoughts here.)

To start, the unrated is advertised as a version with more gore/blood, which it does fine on that part. There are a few extra seconds of shots, for instance, the scene where Amanda is sifting through organs, some of the crime scene photos, and the wire trap maze is slightly longer. Here is a good article that goes over the Director's Cut with more details if you are interested. (I believe the Director's Cut is the same, if not very similar, to the unrated version? Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.) Also, I think the colors are also less blue? I can't confirm this though. I believe there may be a few other details changed as well, but they're not super relevant. Feel free to share any ones I'm missing just for fun though.

These extra shots are fine, thumbs up emoji. My problem starts and ends with the final moments of Saw (unrated). This is Tumblr. You all know the ending to Saw and are probably obsessed with it. It's incredibly impactful and angsty. Its one of my favorite ending sequences of all time. I still think about Adam being left to die alone often. RIP.

Now, lets go over what's changed in Saw (unrated)'s ending:

Some of the final lines are cut out. (Why???)

For some reason, they cut the line where Adam asks, "Am I gonna be okay?" and Larry turns back and says, "I wouldn't lie to you." Why would they do this? I don't know. I can only speculate. Maybe they thought that it contradicted with Lawrence's character, since he is in fact a liar/adulterer? Maybe they thought it was too "hopeful"? Homophobia? (joke)

I think that it's really a shame, because it makes Larry much more likable imo. This one moment is representative of his character development in the film. There are a lot of complex emotions tied with that one line. For once, Lawrence isn't lying to Adam. He truly does want to help. At the same time, you can tell that he feels uncertain. He doesn't know if he actually will be able to make it back in time (if even at all).

Notice how he responds to Adam's question in a roundabout way. He doesn't know if Adam will be okay.

In a way, Jigsaw's trap did work. Lawrence learned empathy. LMAO. It is also makes Adam so much more tragic, any last glimmers of hope he had left get ripped away as soon as he realizes that Jigsaw isn't who he thought it was. They are both fucked. (Ignore that Saw 3D exists for a second here, lol. I definitely think that the original implication here was that Larry is screwed. Either Kramer gets to him, or he bleeds out.)

Here is the original scene for reference:

2. The end credits are changed.

Saw ends with Adam's haunting screams bleeding into the end credits. There's about 20-30 seconds of silence/very subtle music. Then, it leads into the song "Bite The Hand that Bleeds" by Fear Factory. I just LOVE the angst.

Now, lets see what the unrated version is like. (I had to really dig to find this lol.) Obviously, there is no longer licensed music. It instead plays the "Saw theme". (I believe Hello Zepp/Overture is the official name of the song?)

It's...fine. (Once again, forgive me for nitpicking. I'm starting to think that I may be overreacting a bit, lol.)

I sort of understand why they would change the licensed music. It makes the first film feel more "connected" with the sequels; now they all have matching theme songs. (Another idea is that they simply didn't get the rights back to the original song for the re-release. I'd have to do more research on this.) However, it still makes me sad, lol. I just love how edgy and aggressively 2000s the original end credits feel. It matches the film's tone so well imo. The filmography of Saw reminds me a lot of early 2000s nu-metal music videos (unique colors, over-edited to hell, etc.).

I want to really emphasize the importance of film preservation in this post. Thankfully, the original theatrical cut of Saw is pretty easily accessible. (However, this isn't the case for all films. Star Wars is probably the most famous example.) I am just a little saddened that some first-time viewers will end up watching this version of the film without being aware of these changes. I love Saw so much you guys